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This contribution to People’s War was received by the Action Desk at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Norfolk and submitted to the website with the permission and on behalf of Mr Frederick Jude
24th December, 1943.

Aboard the L’ Cadora an Italian battle cruiser of 8,000 tons, this old ship is totally unfit for carrying passengers, all six hundred sleep on one square yard allocated to us. As our men slept so the Italian crew took advantage and ransacked our haversacks for cigarettes, chocolates or anything they thought to be valuable.

A month ago my Daughter, Annette Mary Jude was christened by our family parson at St. Andrew’s Church, Great Ryburgh and today at last I’m in Italy! Naples harbour littered with wrecks of ships, disembarking we clambered over the upturned side of a Red Cross ship. I wonder how many patients met their end here, knowing the rules of warfare prohibit the attack of any sign displaying the Red Cross, we ask ourselves how could this have happened?

Christmas Day
I went into Naples with mates where we were pestered by children requesting us to go with them to visit their sisters or mother, saying they were ‘Bono signorina’s’. V.D. flourishes everywhere here, it is reported 40% of the American and British armies are suffering from the disease. Here women hawk their bodies as if they were the wares of a vendor, men arrange contracts for their wives, here sex is no longer the gift of our Creator.

15th January, 1944. At last I am firmly re-installed in my old unit, the 56 London Infantry Divisional Ordnance Field Park and am back with so many good friends.

24th February, 1944. Vesuvius was always one of nature’s landmarks that held a fascination for me with a desire to climb to the summit. We understand that only yesterday an American soldier risked making the visit without a guide and had a piece of white-hot cinder land on his ear and nothing could save it.
14th March, 1944 Since 1st March I have been stationed at Pontecagnano, 8 miles south of Salerno and within a stones throw of the blood stained beaches where the 56 Div made their landing at the Salerno beach head with a tremendous struggle. My job is to act as liaison NCO between 557 AOD and the Ordnance Field Parks of the 56 London Infantry Division.

My latest mail has produced photographs, they are of course of Annette and Grace. Is Annette anything like me? I think not, she resembles her Mother.

23rd March, 1944. ‘Tis a month since I was at the top of Vesuvius when guides were forecasting a colossal eruption at any time and it all happened four days ago. The intellectuals of the area are saying this is the largest eruption since Pompei was completely swallowed AD 180. All roads around Vesuvius are blocked and I have seen no-one from my unit for a week.

26th March, 1944. At mid-day I encountered Timber Woods from our unit, he had come to fetch me back to the unit, this entailed crossing the Appennines and a speedy trip to Southern Italy. Overnight we stayed in a small village called Lugana almost completely cut off from the rest of the world and we wondered what they could possibly know about the War.

29th March, 1944 Crowded on to a truck bound for Taranto we joined the vanguard of the Unit. At Reveille there was the dog shooting incident, our respected Capt. attempted to shoot the dog he had adopted and loved, feeling this to be the only possible solution as we were about to embark for Egypt. The billet for our voyage is the Polish ship Batore, some 14,000 tons.

20th April, 1944 With mates I spent four days leave in Cairo and really found the true Cairo. What a place, what swindlers these people are!

24th April, 1944. With effect from today my stripes become ‘established’ and this means I can’t lose them unless I am stupid enough to offend the rules of good army practice. I felt my services hadn’t been appreciated by our unit commanding officer Major Garner, but perhaps I was wrong.

Saturday, 15th July, 1944. We now know that tomorrow night we are due to disembark at Taranto, the ‘Britannic’ a ship of the 27,000 ton class, built in 1927 and is really not fit to carry the quantity of troops we have on board, but I did meet Jack Gant. Prior to call up he worked at Wyman & Sons, the large printing establishment in Fakenham and was also an active member in the Church. Small world!

20th July, 1944.What a journey! 42 men with full kit packed — no squeezed — into one cattle truck for a journey of some 250 miles lasting three days and two nights.
21st July, 1944.This is a truly lovely country, but there is much devastation in the towns and villages.

In Rome though little or no evidence of battle scars, one has to question whether this was a calculated ‘favour’ sought by Mussolini during his alliance with Hitler.
As they say ‘Rome was not built in a day!’ The significance of this old phrase is now quite clear to me.

I went to St. Peter’s for the visit of Pope Pius Twelve who had invited the British, American and other allied troops to his visitation in the Sistine Chapel. The ceremony and pageantry accompanying his entry and exit is just like stepping back at least two centuries. The Swiss Guards, Beef Eaters, the Ushers with pointed helmets and swords in red plush Plus Four suits, and the carriage bearers in black frock tailed coats. The Pope, clearly a distinguished scholar addressed us in English and French, he gave us a heart felt welcome and finished with his Blessing. The greatest thrill was to follow when he moved from the podium to speak to those of us who were close by, no doubt he felt we were all Roman Catholics. I noticed those to whom he spoke me, kissed his ring so I was prepared to do likewise. When it came to my turn and he asked ‘where is your home’, I said ‘one hundred miles from London, close by Walsingham’ knowing he would be well aware of our local place for pilgrimages. I can’t think why I mentioned London! He touched my head and said ‘you have my special blessing,’ There was much criticism of the welcome he had given to the Germans, but what else could the man do?

2nd September, 1944. I am more than grateful for a parcel I received from Grace just before we left, it contained soap, tooth paste, fountain pen, boot polish, shaving soap and tooth brush, all of these are unprocurable here.

4th September, 1944 Last night we were directed to our new position, it reeks with danger as we find ourselves two miles short of the Gothic Line. Tomorrow we are off again, speeding toward the Hun with Venice as our final objective.

25th September, 1944. So much has happened since I last made notes of our doings. Living within the so-called Gothic Line, often less than five miles from the Hun is not to be compared with a holiday at Blackpool. The German defence is so inclusive that every house, Church, Monastery or cowshed capable of housing their enemy is obliterated. We see lots of dead Germans and British soldiers referred to by the tommies as ‘stiffies’

Now that the 168 Brigade are to be disbanded I have fears as to where I may be drafted.

It seems the 1st London Scottish Battalion, the London Irish together with the Welsh Brigade, whom we served as their OFP have suffered severe casualties and it proves necessary for the remnants to be amalgamated with the 167 and 169 Brigades.

4th October, 1944. Saint Arcangelo was certainly the most terrible experience I have had so far, we were parked on a large meadow and throughout the five days there, we were under constant shell-fire.

On the same meadow there were cows and horses that were hit by the Gerry 25 pounders and it was the lot of our chaps to bury them.

Poor Dick Brown took a direct hit and lost a leg. When I went to see him at the CCS (Casualty Clearing Station) I found myself looking into the saddest eyes I had ever seen, distress and disappointment embossed upon that solid face, for him the war is over. He asked me to write to his Father.
Tonight, thank goodness, we may get a few winks of sleep, three miles retreat is like being the recipient of a Nuffield fortune. How can I write home, I try, but it’s tough, mighty tough! I can’t relate any of our present circumstances as all correspondence is vetted and those at home wish to hear good news.

1st November, 1944. Here at Tolentino the Division are refitting and resting. Exactly what is to happen to our famous 56th London Infantry Division seems, at the moment very uncertain. Today I notice on part II orders of H.Q. that O2E has approved of my promotion to Staff Sergeant, damn decent of them!
The greatest thrill of my stay here in Tollentino, to attend a concert of the classics at the home of Gino Brandi. He is 14 and had composed music since the age of 6, before the war known throughout the world and had played before the Pope, given charitable concerts throughout Italy and played before Mussolini. After shaking each of us by the hand he tip-toed toward his grand piano where he launched into Beethoven’s Pathetique. I expect great things of Gino, with this ability at 14, whatever world fame will he achieve by the age of say, twenty?

(Ten years later when Grace and I were on holiday in Italy I enquired of Gino and was told the sad news; he died soon after the war)

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