大象传媒

By Ernest Richard Cooper
1940 = 1945

C R O N I C L E

131. FIELD AMBULANCE R.A.M.C.

March 1940 ISLE of MAN
Packet Boat (mail boat) 鈥淏en McCree鈥�

ROLL OF HONOUR

Killed in Action

Private Harold. Driver Piddington.

MY POEM

From Courtrai to Dunkirk, nasty all the way,
Bombed and stuka鈥檇 most of the way,
Off the beach and up the mole onto a ship,
From there to Folkestone, quite a fast trip.

Forty out of three hundred 鈥淏lighty鈥� bound,
Old Jerry had the rest, and put them in a pound,
Sent us off to Oxford, and made us up to strength,
Then lectured us on soldiering at very great length.

Caterham to Glasgow, there we boarded ship,
A few among five thousand, for a very long trip,
Formed up in a Convoy, headed for the Cape,
Cooped up on a trooper, and with no escape.

Three days off at Capetown, what a delight,
And saw the Table Mountain, Oh! What a sight,
Up the Indian Ocean, and on to Port Said,
Unloaded onto barges, very flat and wide.

Then off to the desert, what an awful place,
Populated by Arabs and what a thieving race,
A few weeks at Khatatba, then up to the blue,
Hardly seasoned soldiers, and that was very true.

Now an operational Field Ambulance, learning all the way,
Treating lots of wounded, rarely a quiet day,
Bullet and shrapnel wounds, are common place now,
Not so hard to cope with, given the know how.

Then Alamein was on us oh! What a fight,
Nine hundred guns were firing and the sky was alight,
Ambulances were back and forth, lots of work to do,
As the battle thundered, way up in the 鈥渂lue鈥�.

Those were the days of the side gun tanks, Lees and Grants,
And against the German 鈥淭iger鈥� they hadn鈥檛 got a chance,
But then we got the 鈥淪hermon鈥� to the tankies delight,
Which could trade shells with the 鈥淭iger鈥� in an equal fight.

There was other life in the desert apart from the Foe,
And some of those things, I鈥檇 rather not know,
Creepy crawlies, with stings in their tails,
And believe it or not, there were thousands of snails.

There were dung beetles and scorpions, horrible pests,
And millions of flies that weren鈥檛 welcome guests,
From daylight, to dark they buzzed round your head,
And on all our food, the filthy things fed.

There were lizards and chameleons the odd snake or two,
Desert dogs and camels, way out in the 鈥渂lue鈥�,
Kite Hawks a circling, snatch your food and gone,
And hardly a day when the sun never shone.

We went up there as the 44th Division, the red egg was our sign,
At Alamein we got mauled, and with-drawn from the line,
Then we struck rich and joined the Rats division,
And proudly wore the Jerboa sign, it was a good decision.

Famous names like Mersa, Matruh, Barrani and Tobruk,
The happenings there have been in many a book,
They came and went as we swanned on,
Jerry paused and licked his wounds and once again was gone.

With Monty as our general he was really quite a man,
He outshone Rommel and then the fun began,
He explained the plan of battle, to all in his command,
You will take it by a stated date, and that is my demand.

1942
Christmas outside Banghasi and the rains came tumbling down,
It over filled our Bivvy Holes, and tried the 鈥淩ats鈥� to drown,
Three days manhandling our transport, to the road,
Most of them were heavy, and really quite a load.

By then Jerry was retreating and heading for Tripoli,
And Monty said 鈥淕et after them, for that鈥檚 the place to be鈥�,
Through Homs and Misurata, we chased them all the way,
And Jerry did not stop there or even turn at bay.

We took an Italian hospital and treated all the sick,
What a change from desert, the time went far too quick,
Two months respite to rest and relax,
Then off again to the desert, and on the way to Sfax.

But first came the Mareth Line, which was a nasty fight,
Poor Guards armoured Division suffered there alright,
Eventually the line was broken, and we were on our way,
Still plenty of Jerries left to fight for another day.

Then at last we got to Sfax our first French town,
鈥楾was here that our Colonel said, that we had let him down,
For the wine did flow like water and we all got tight,
Staggering and reeling Oh! What a lovely sight.

From Sfax and on to Kairouan, they said the Holy City,
But we had no time to linger there, and more is the pity,
The fighting up north was rough and the 1st Army needed assistance Old Jerry he was cornered now and putting up stiff resistance.

So 4th Indian, 51st Highland and the Desert Rats did go,
To show the 1st Army how to fight this Foe,
Enfidaville, Medjex el Bab, St Cyprien and Tunis bound,
All fighting together, it was Jerries last round.

Now I must mention the 11th Hussars,
Known as the 鈥淐herry Pickers鈥� and their fast armoured cars,
Also of the Desert Rats with fame both far and wide,
No matter how sticky the wicket they took it in their stride.

Amongst the first in Tunis, and riding very proud,
And received the acclamations of the French crowd,
To them the honour and sweet Victory,
And to restore to the French their final Liberty.

Now all this time, we had cared for the wounded and the sick,
Operations and nursing had really done the trick,
Tend their wounds and comfort them, then evacuate,
That鈥檚 how a Field Ambulance has to operate.

From Alamein to Tunis is a mighty long way,
Coastal road and desert tracks most of the way,
The food was atrocious, and the water just as bad,
No option but to consume it, for that is all we had.

Bully Beef and biscuits, soya links, rice puddings and prunes,
Most of the soya links were tossed amongst the dunes,
Then there was McConochies, a kind of greasy stew,
But it made somebody a fortune, that is also true.

Then the top brass said 鈥測ou can鈥檛 stay here鈥�
鈥淵ou鈥檙e going back to the desert鈥� and that is very clear,
so back down the coastal road a very long haul,
And just how long it took us I surely can鈥檛 recall.

We ended back at Homs again and camped along the beach,
Where Leptus Magna was in easy reach,
There were the remains of an old Roman City,
And E.N.S.R. came and gave us shows with song, dance and ditty.

We had to learn then all about landing ships,
The Navy was there to teach us and give us many tips,
Then one day we loaded up and off to Tripoli,
To start another journey across the bright blue sea.

We sailed by Mount Etna and the coast of Sicily,
Knowing not then what was soon to be,
Till we got to Salerno, and all the screaming steel,
Heigh ho! We thought, here鈥檚 another raw deal.

Down with the nose doors, and up that hellish beach,
Going round in circles till we found a breach,
Now to wait for the forward troops to open up a way,
And this they did without to much delay.

Off on our travels, and working as we went,
鈥楾was a pleasure to work in a building and not a rotten tent,
We sailed by the infantry and got a huge cheer,
I guess thought to himself 鈥淲hat am I doing here鈥�.

We turned back to Pagani, a civvy hospital to boot,
But the beds were riddled with bugs, as lousy as a coot,
They had to be blow lamped, to kill the stinking pests,
A nice hot flame is something a bed bug really detests.

Stayed a while there and then moved on,
Scoffati the next stop, to try our skills upon,
Well I remember the soul searching here,
Little children machine gunned, some were dead I fear.

Its鈥� tough to lay out soldiers heartbreaking with a child,
Shot by the Germans their little lives defiled,
I cursed that night, for the job I had to do,
And was not the least bit sorry, when the night was through.

From Scoffati to Agricola, and a school that was run by Nuns,
Made us really welcome, like long lost sons,
Here we got some prisoners of war, glad to be free,
So we gave them plenty of cigarettes and hot sweet tea.

One was an Air force Pilot in a badly burnt state,
The Italians had been sheltering him, now wasn鈥檛 that great,
They had saved his life, and that was really brave,
Certainly the type of Italians we readily forgave.

Evacuate and pack up, and on the move once more,
On to Averma we continued with our tour,
A Fascist school, was to be our next habitation,
Very large and airy, converted well to hospitalisation.

鈥楾was here that the Colonel was awarded the 鈥淒.S.O鈥�,
And said 鈥淚t belongs to the unit, it鈥檚 not mine you know鈥�,
There was truth in his words, for a good job was done,
Months of hard work, caring for the wounded, hardly any fun.

Whilst we were here and on the grapevine 鈥榯was said,
Rumour upon rumour amazing how it spread,
The plaintiff cry 鈥渨hats the griff鈥� was on everyone鈥檚 lips,
And the rumour concerned was 鈥淏lighty bound鈥� troopships.

Thus the Rats had reached the Sangro then pulled to the rear,
It seemed that the story was true and departure very near,
So we had a few weeks rest at a village called Seiano,
Across the Bay of Naples looking at Verarrious Volcano.

The Canadians took over our transport, left us high and dry,
And no one cared we were going home that鈥檚 the reason why,
There were day trips to Naples, Capri and Popei,
Whilst we waited to get on our way.

December the 20th 1943 the day was here and the ships awaited their load,
And with a song on our lips, up the gangplank we strode,
We sailed that day from Naples and started on our way,
And 鈥榯was off Oran that we spent Christmas Day.

The ship was short of provisions I guess the larder was bare,
Our Christmas Day dinner was bully beef and biscuits and still we did not care,
We passed the Rock of Gibralter, clothed in night attire,
Going through the Bay of Biscay I saw St.Elmo鈥檚 Fire.

So back to dear old Blighty arrived at Scotland in fact,
Took a fortnight to get there and the convoy arrived intact,
A grey winter鈥檚 day, when off loaded ship once more to dry land,
And the cold did not bother us for we were home, you understand.

From troopship to troop-train and travelled through the night,
And detrained in Norfolk it suited me alright,
Then home at last to Hampshire for a well earned leave,
From the duties of war a very welcome reprieve.

I enjoyed our stay in Italy and liked the people well,
Though I鈥檓 glad we did not go to Amlio a veritable hell,
In a way we were fortunate to come back from the line,
And rest upon our laurels, that to us was fine.

The Italians were a friendly folk, their standard of living was poor,
But wherever we went there was always an open door,
They had no love for their Tedesci allies, that is what they said
By listening to Benito Mussolini鈥檚 ravings they has been mislead.

The countryside was pretty and fruit grew everywhere,
Oranges and lemons thrived in that climate fair,
Grapes grew by the roadside and passion fruit trees as well,
So what had been their heaven the Tedesci had turned to hell.

New lorries and equipment arrived at the camp,
And rumours spread, our ardour to damp,
It seems that an invasion was due to take place,
So once again a landing stared us in the face.

They took us up to Wanstead Flats, and put us in a cage,
Though we did not know, the Colonel did en wage,
When we arrived at the docks it was but a dummy run,
And the invasion well! It had not begun.

Embarkation leave had come, enjoyed and was spent,
A few short weeks respite and back to London we went,
This time we knew that the trip was for real,
We had to bring Jerries to heel.

June 6th 1944 鈥擫iberty Ship.

D.Day it was as we boarded ship, loaded on like cattle,
Into the hold of a Liberty Ship, what a way to go to battle,
For anyone viewing the Channel, it was an incredible sight,
The invasion Fleet proceeding, the quantity, the power, the might.

We arrived at Arromanche next morning, and took our place in the queue,
Had to wait to be unloaded, that wasn鈥檛 healthy 鈥榯was true,
At last it was time to get mobile, the coast in landing craft reach,
Our destination was 鈥淛uno鈥�, that was the name of the beach.

When we arrived things had quietened, the troops forging ahead,
And still the beaches were crowded, but I didn鈥檛 see any dead,
That night was a little bit noisy, with big guns making a din,
The noisiest of all was a Monitor, hurling its big shells in.

For a few days the front was unstable and erratic,
So while this was the case we remained static,
Once again we stood in France it bought no pleasure to me,
I had no love for the country, but there I had to be.

With the troops moving forward, we followed up behind,
Back into action and we really didn鈥檛 mind,
We steered clear of Villages and usually picked a field,
Wherever we went the results of R.A.F bombing, was instantly revealed.

Bayeux was the first town, not so badly harmed,
So the French folk living there, were not unduly alarmed,
It鈥檚 famous for its tapestry but that was not on view,
No doubt safely stowed away until the war was through.

Forever moving forward not staying in one place long,
Not staying in one place for we were strong,
Now far away from the beaches heading well in land,
Occasionally a hiccup as Jerry made a stand.

There鈥檚 no doubt now who had the master of the skies,
With Typhoons Hurricanes and Spitfires, swarming round like flies,
The Typhoon with its rockets was an awe inspiring sight,
Diving into a German tank and setting it alight.

Those rockets had a mighty sting as Jerry soon found out,
They could remove a tanks turret without any doubt,
Many times we watched them as they went into a dive,
We were very sure those 鈥淛erries鈥� would never stay alive.

The Lancaster鈥檚 were over and flying very low,
With the master bomber underneath, showing the way to go,
No peace for the Jerry now, bombed and strafing all day,
It must have been heaven for those who got away.

Then came a time I did not enjoy as I packed my kit and went,
On detachment to the R.N.F as a doctor man I went,
Machine guns and mortars their job, and never been in action,
Though this was a fact, it was not to their detraction.

They soon got a taste of this as we entered the garden of a chateau,
We had not been there five minutes when Jerry鈥檚 guns gave us what ho,
They knocked out a lot of the transport and critically injured one man,
If they had never been blooded before, this is where it began.

Now with my adopted unit, we stopped on the outskirts of Caen,
Whilst waiting for our bombers we sat about for a yarn,
A thousand bombers flattened that town and to everyone鈥檚 dismay,
It was a wicked thing to do for Jerry had gone away.

Away from Caen and upon the plain a tank battle was raging,
And 鈥淟ong Toms鈥� with twenty five pounders were also engaging,
The crack of the guns the scream of a shell,
All made that day, a veritable hell.

After sundry skirmishes we got to a place called Falaise,
Where they has several divisions surrounded, bombed them for days,
Never was a scene of so much carnage and death,
For the bombing was continuous, Jerry had no time to draw breath.

We arrived at Molt Pincom and Jerry decided to shoot,
The second time the R.N.F were blooded by 88鈥檚 to boot,
The cry rang out for 鈥淭he Medic - Man Wounded鈥� so I went,
No Hero me, but I had to attend to this gent.

Bandaged his wounds and consoled him, and loaded him into a truck,
And took him back to our M.D.S, wishing him the best of luck,
This was not a healthy spot, was glad to leave that place,
I have no love of flying steel or the stench of cordite in my face.

More bombing and strafing and Jerry went back in confusion,
If he had thoughts of winning this war, then he was under a delusion,
From France to Belgium, he sped in much haste,
And keeping in touch behind him, forever onward we raced.

Now I was back on familiar ground that I鈥檇 seen in 1940,
The Germans then were an arrogant crowd so cocky and haughty,
Back through Steen Weike, the place where we had given up hope,
When Jerry had destroyed our transport, so we were unable to cope.

contd.,

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