大象传媒

After taking part in the D Day Landing at Arromanches in Normandy, progress was halted about 20 miles inland by the stubborn resistance of the Germans. It was a further 2 weeks or so before the towns of Bayeux and Caen were secured. Only then was it possible to move into France and along the coast. On the cliffs overlooking the town of Boulogne a battery of German naval guns had made life unpleasant for the townsfolk of Dover and Folkestone, by cross channel bombardment. Attempts to put a stop to this by the RAF had come to nought, as the bombs and shells just skidded off the surface of the concrete dome shaped housing, which protected the guns. If the guns could not be silenced from the sea or air then an assault from the land would have to be tried. This task was assigned to the 200 Canadian infantry soldiers, to whom at that time I was attached. For lightly armed foot soldiers without benefit of artillery or armoured support the task ahead appeared nigh on impossible. The Major in command of the Canadians was undeterred however. He advanced to within hailing distance of the enemy and called on them to surrender or face the consequences. He stated that he could call upon the most enormous firepower, which would reduce the concrete bunkers to rubble in no time. This was of course sheer bluff, as no such weaponry was available within miles if at all. However the bluff seemed to work, as within a short while a German officer holding a white flag came forth to surrender and state terms.

We were informed that the senior officer commanding the guns, together with his second in seniority, had elected to stay behind after the garrison had given themselves up as POWs. It was the intention of the C.O. to set a charge off in the breech of the main gun which would blow that gun to bits and also the tons of ammunition stacked inside the dome. Provision had been devised for the explosion in the main gun to spread to the rest of the guns and ammunition, which made up the battery. The spokesman for the POWs strongly advised a complete withdrawal of all personnel to a distance of at least a mile, due to the danger presented by the magnitude of the expected explosion. The Major would hear of no such thing. He made the German POWs lie down in front of us where we awaited the 鈥淏ig Bang鈥� with our hands over our ears and our hearts in our mouths.

When the big bang did erupt it was certainly a whopper. However the explosion was confined to the number 1 gun and did not, as expected, spread to other emplacements. Just as well for us as we could have been too close for comfort, to say the least.

After the Canadians and their German prisoners had departed it was decide to explore the inside of the blown up main gun emplacement. Within it was very dark. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of cordite. Advancing to the gun platform, it was clear to see that it was kaput and no longer a threat to the people of Dover and Folkestone. There was no sign of the two gallant men who had chosen death rather than surrender. The floor around the gun platform was thickly covered with debris and inadvertently my foot came in contact with something, which to my horror was a human head. Hampered by the darkness and the rubble we managed to find and assemble the scattered remains of the two naval officers. These were placed on makeshift stretchers with two of our men acting as bearers. The atmosphere was grim and pretty spooky. As we made our way towards the exit I was directly behind Bert who was the bloke supporting the rear end of the stretcher: Uttering a blood curdling ghostly cry I placed my cold fingers across the back of Bert鈥檚 neck. To say it gave him a fright was putting it mildly; his reaction caused the rest of us to laugh at what seemed at the time a great joke. Not so funny now, but then a good laugh helped to relieve the tension we were all feeling.

Once we had made it to the open air, we set about burying the corpses with as much dignity as was possible. We also made sure that their identity and details of their demise was available for whosoever may have the task of giving them burial honours in the future.

The next day we progressed along the coast to the outskirts of Cap-Gris-Nez. There we were to witness, at close quarters, a daylight raid of four hundred bombers flying in a square-shaped formation, the 400 passed over their target dropping their bombs, they then turned round and still in the same formation crossed over their target for the second time, again unloading their bombs.

Ack-Ack fire at first heavy gradually faded away, as the raid progressed to next to nothing. From our viewpoint it was evident that the destruction was tremendous. The air was filled with debris, smoke and fumes. It was hard to believe that anyone of the German garrison could have survived in that inferno.

In fact when our troops moved in the Germans came up, full of fight, from the cellars in which they had sheltered, furthermore the streets were so full of masonry as a result of the bombing, that support from armoured vehicles was not available. All fighting had to be of a hand-to-hand nature, not for the first time my sympathy and admiration was with the PBI (poor bloody infantry.)

As we continued to advance through France, Belgium and Holland, it was strange to know that to our left German forces still held the Port of Dunkirk and Knokke, which our forces chose to bypass. The island of Walkcheren on the River Scheldt was, however, a very different matter. As long as Germans occupied this island we could not use the Port of Antwerp to land supplies. Our only source of supply still stretched as far back as the Normandy beaches. (Incidentally supplies to our antagonists on Walkcheren, were being delivered by midget submarines.) It was now November 1944 and bitter winter weather had set in to make matters worse 鈥楯erry鈥� had breached the Dykes causing flooding widespread. The only way to travel by vehicle was on top of the Dyke, were the sea water was shallowest making sure to use the shattered tree trunks lining the road as guidelines. At one point at the end of the road was a bandstand, in which had been placed a tiger tank with its gun aimed up the Dyke. Happily it had been put out of action prior to our arrival.

It was necessary to clear a large area of any mines, which may have been sewn, before we could site our artillery. This entailed standing in icy cold sea-water and probing around with a bayonet until you found a metal object about the size of a dinner plate, then very carefully loosening the soil around it before gently lifting out of the ground. It was also prudent to be alert to the possibility of booby traps being attached to the larger anti-tank mines. These were known as 鈥榮hoe鈥� or anti-personal mines, designed to blow your foot off. After clearing up several anti-tank mines, none of which had been booby trapped, the Lieutenant in charge (who shall be nameless, unless you decide otherwise), gave the order 鈥� not to waste time looking for shoe mines as 鈥楯erry鈥� usually booby trapped all the mines, or none at all鈥�, after picking up a few more mines without incident, what was feared by the rest of the squad happened to our great dismay. Lance Sergeant Freddy Smee dug up a mine which was booby-trapped, it blew away one of his legs below the knee and caused damage to his eyes. Coloured tape had been laid upon the surface of the water to indicate where we had cleared mines. In his anxiety to get back to the jeep upon the Dyke, (no doubt to summon help) the Lieutenant ran outside the tapes showing the area cleared of mines. He was blown up and died instantly. Freddy Smee lay where he had fallen, in spite of his injuries, he remained conscious throughout, as the area around him was cleared, making it safe to move him. During all this, a Sergeant Major of a scots regiment (The Black Watch if my memory serves me well) appeared on the scene to volunteer his help.

I very much regret to say that his kindness was ill rewarded, as a shoe mine went off in his face as he bent over and it blinded him. Later I heard his bravery was rewarded with a top medal of honour.

In one week the battle for Walkeren was won at a cost of 30,000 casualties. The Canadian losses were so heavy they were withdrawn from the fray, to be replaced by men who had been trained as mountain troops in the Highlands of Scotland. No doubt they didn鈥檛 find it funny that their first taste of action was on flat terrain, flooded with sea water and not a mountain in sight anywhere.

During the one week previously mentioned November 5th 1944 would remain in my memory as the biggest display of fireworks I have ever seen. The night sky was ablaze with the light from tracer bullets and bursting shells.

After the misery of enduring wet boots and socks for so long we were delighted to receive the issue of gum boots and the prospect of the luxury of dry feet. We were doomed to be disappointed, the wellies had bee in store for so long that the rubber was perished and took in water.

At the final surrender the German POW鈥檚 were placed in the town square of the island. At each of the four corners of which was a bren gun and it鈥檚 two man crew who guarded the hundreds of prisoners squatting there.

After leaving the town of Middleburg I was able to visit, briefly, Freddy Smee in hospital. The hospital was in fact one captured from the Germans, it was a one storey former school building used by 鈥楯erry鈥� to treat their wounded.

There were no beds, the men lying face down on palliasses on the floor. The reason for their prone positions was the majority had wounds to their backs and buttocks. Due to them taking cover face down behind the cover of the dikes. For our part, our guns had rained down from above shrapnel shells as the best means of attack. Freddy Smee was the only British patient among the scores of enemy also there.

He had been operated upon by a German surgeon, who had made a first class job of amputating his leg below the knee. This Lance Corporal 鈥楧octor鈥� had also cleared up the damage to Freddy鈥檚 eyes and face. The 鈥楧oc鈥� was clad in what appeared to be a blood stained rubber apron over his soldier鈥檚 uniform. The ward was the school hall, with the strange sight of two orderlies chopping up wood for the pot-bellied iron stove, the only means of heating. The thought occurred to me that our boys would have chopped the wood up outside in deference to the dead and dying all around. Freddy Smee, shortly after our visit, was flown to Blighty where he had a false limb fitted and rather better hospital accommodation. For the rest of us it would be a further six months advancing through the Netherlands and into Germany for the final surrender in May 1945. After which an extra stint serving in occupied Germany, until January 1946 when I received my 鈥楧emob鈥� suit (courtesy of Burton) and 拢90 discharge payment for my 6 years and four months war service.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.