大象传媒

Part Two:

Cambridge Rowing Blue Never Gave Up.

BATTLE OF RUSIT RIDGE

My arrival back at the Battery HQ was quite memorable. The Battle of Rusit Ridge was in progress with the Germans attempting to force their way along a depression to the south of El Alemain Ridge, where sand was soft and 鈥榞oing鈥� bad. Thanks to 鈥楿ltra鈥� the 8th Army knew their plans in advance and were ready to take them on from well-prepared positions.

Major David Welch, our Battery Commander 鈥� a regular- greeted me very cordially. He looked at his watch 鈥攏oon- 鈥淎h a good time for a shoot before lunch. Come with me鈥�. So we got into his Jeep and drove the 800 yards or so to the Battery OP 鈥� dug in. There, in front of us was a panoramic view of the depression, full of German tanks, trucks and infantry, many already disabled or on fire, the mobile ones creeping across our front from right to left, struggling with the soft sand.

He told the OP officer he wanted to take over, ordered two or three ranging shots and then ordered a few rounds of gunfire and had the satisfaction of seeing several direct hits on trucks, the tanks being left to be dealt with by anti-tank guns.

Then he turned to me and said 鈥淟et鈥檚 go back and have a sherry before lunch鈥�, which we proceeded to do.

The battle was over after another day with the Germans extracting what little they could from the once formidable force.

BATTLE OF EL ALEMAIN

We were soon withdrawn from our positions, back about fifty miles to train and prepare for the Battle of El Alemain due in five to six weeks time.

In due time we took up our positions for the battle taking two days to do so and each night concealing our tanks, guns and transport under imitation trucks which the camouflage people had created some time before. Then the battle started with a massive barrage from all guns available at about 22:30 hours, and our guns were in action most of the night.

The next day we had to move to a different section of the front for a further night attack. The move took a long time owing to a lot of congestion in the rear areas. This procedure was repeated during the next two days and nights. Then, during the afternoon of the third day I was out on my own reconnoitring for an OP for that night鈥檚 operation. I had taken a Jeep as far as seemed sensible, then started up a gradient with the German positions on the other side of where I was walking having only very recently been taken from the enemy.

Suddenly a string of six or seven Germans clambered out of a 鈥榝ox hole鈥� in front of me with their hands up! I fumbled for my revolver and motioned to them to start walking down the slope. As soon as I found some British infantry I handed them over and returned to my job in hand.

Eventually I found what I thought was a safe and suitable observation position and started taking in the picture of the enemy positions ahead of me. However my work was soon disturbed by an explosion a few yards behind me. I guessed rightly that it was a mortar bomb and that it would soon be followed by another. I decided it would be best to wait for it to land, praying it would not be too close, then make a run for it down the hill to cover. In seconds the next one duly exploded a little in front of me and I was off at the double, doubled up but hotly pursued by a hail of bullets. Unfortunately one went through my left shoulder but very luckily only a flesh wound. There was no point in my returning to the area so I got back in the Jeep and went to the Regimental aid post for a dressing.

The MO examined and decided that I ought to go back to hospital once more otherwise it would become septic. So back with other walking wounded by train (I seem to remember) to a hospital in Alexandra, then the next day to the 14th General near Suez.

About twelve days later it was healed and I returned to the Royal Artillery Base near Cairo where I told the OC I was sure that my Battery wanted me back and the next day I was on my way again.

WESTWARDS TO LIBYA

The Battle of Alemain was by then over and I found my Battery on the shores of the Mediterranean about fifteen miles west of the battle area, resting and swimming. But not for long as we were ordered forward to take over from the First RHA in the 7th Armoured Division which they remained until they got to Berlin. We travelled across the desert in a south westerly direction for several days before we caught up with the Division just east of El Agheila (Libya) where the Germans had formed a defensive line that evidently they intended to hold.

However General Montgomery had sent the 1st New Zealand Division into the desert to out flank them whilst we peppered them with our guns. Apparently they got wind of the New Zealand manoeuvre and decided to withdraw right back to Wadi ZamZam, about 250 miles east of Tripoli. The foremost three divisions of the 8th Army continued to follow them west for about 100 miles, and then we all halted except for a covering force of armoured cars that kept an eye on them.

We relaxed and celebrated Christmas, 1942, where we were with extra rations but not much water (most of the time it was half a gallon a day for all purposes including cooking). The break also gave time for the transport 鈥榯rain鈥� to catch up. Until the costal ports could be brought back into use everything for the army had to come by truck over hundreds of miles from Egypt.

Then we started moving forward again with no opposition until the 15th January. That morning my tank M3 鈥淗oney鈥�, which had come all the way from Egypt and was long overdue for an overhaul, refused to start and then back fired starting a small fire. We quickly put it out but had to wait for REME to catch up and make a repair. This they did quite quickly and I set off to catch up with the Battery that we did about noon.

Soon afterwards I was told to accompany and support a squadron of Sherwood Rangers in their Sherman tanks which was to find a way across the Wadi ZamZam which is a depression about 3/4 of a mile wide with a fairly high bank on the western, enemy side.

FINAL CONTACT

Here follows a letter I wrote to Lord Butterfield, chairman of the Hawks Club, who had asked me the circumstances of my wounding in this operation.

Manor Garden
Henley-on-Thames
Oxon RG9 2NH

24th September 1992

Dear John,

That was a very good send-off for the new home of the Hawks last Monday evening and it was very pleasing to sense the happiness of the 鈥榡unior鈥� members.

After our dinner, which was a good start for the steward and his team, you asked me for the circumstances of my wounding in the 鈥�39/鈥�45 war. It occurred with the 8th Army in the Western Desert on January 15th 1943 about two pm. I was commanding my Troop of twenty-five pounder guns of the 5th RHA in support of the Sherwood Rangers in the 7th Armoured Division.

Their task was to find a way across the Wadi ZamZam, a depression about 3/4 of a mile wide. I was in my light tank 鈥� a General Stuart- and we were making steady progress with very short range of vision because we were in the depression when we were attacked by a superior force of German (Panzer) Mark VI tanks with their 38mm guns, which had had suddenly appeared hull down on the brow of the wadi.

Although I attempted to counter with my four twenty five pounder guns it was a hopeless situation and very rapidly all our tanks were put out of action. My own tank suffered a direct hit through the front from an armour piercing shot which spun round the inside and set the tank on fire.

At the time I was standing with my head out of the turret and, unbelievably, I did not appreciate I had been wounded until I got out by doing a 鈥榟and stand鈥� from the rim of the turret and fell over hitting the ground 鈥� one foot mangled and the other with over one hundred pieces of metal and debris in it.

I crawled round to the front of the tank and helped my wireless operator to get out. He had a smashed knee, was burned about the face and hands and his cloths were smouldering. I stopped his cloths burning and together we crawled away as far as our strength would allow because our tank was fuelled with high-octane aviation fuel and they usually blew up (ours didn鈥檛). My tank driver, John Abbot, had been beheaded, poor chap.

After a time my wireless operator, John Levy, heard English voices, coming from others who had lost their tanks and were sheltering in a hollow, and started crawling towards them. Two of them got up to help him and all three were killed by machine gun fire from a nearby German tank. I remained still and lived.

It was quite a time after dark 鈥� I remember I was exceedingly cold- when a search party found me and took me back to the Regimental First Aid Post, and so on.*

As you can imagine I had lost an immense amount of blood, not having been able to put a tourniquet on myself, my wounds became septic and I was accidentally given an overdose of morphia. But I survived thanks to some dedicated care and nursing at the New Zealand Casualty Clearing Station. They held me there for three weeks after which I was considered well enough to survive the arduous journey to Egypt. The adjacent landing strip was no longer being used, so it was two days in an ambulance followed by one in a DC3 cargo plane 鈥� nearly one thousand miles in all. I did survive 鈥� just.

Having arrived in Egypt the previous May and had two other minor wounds resulting in short stays in hospital it cannot be said that I contributed much to the active war effort. However after sixteen months in various hospitals in Egypt, South Africa and England I was eventually fitted out with a false leg and did a useful year鈥檚 service as G111 Training at GHQ Home Forces.

This is the first time I have written this down but it is still all immensely clear to me, except for the three or four days after I had been picked up which were filled in for me by brother officers on their various visits to me in hospital.

* At Alan鈥檚 funeral we met the driver of the truck that took him to the aid station.

In April, 1943, I went by hospital train to the 14th General Hospital, Suez, to await boarding the Hospital Ship 鈥極range鈥�, a brand new Dutch liner which had been converted with a minimum of alteration for use as a hospital ship complete with mainly Dutch crew and staff. We were hoisted aboard, one by one, by crane and had a very pleasant voyage to Durban, where we boarded a hospital train for the journey to Johannesburg. 鈥榃e鈥� were a party, a few hundred, who were unlikely to have become fit again within three months.

The final few miles were by ambulance to Baragwanneth Hospital, quite new on the outskirts of Johannesberg, and which is now in the black township of Soweto, the largest hospital for blacks in the whole of Africa.

There followed a very boring six months - on the medical side the occasional operation to remove septic odds and ends from my left foot or to attempt skin grafts on the end of my right leg which proved futile. On the social side the monotony was relieved by 鈥楲iardice鈥� in the morning, poker in the afternoon and Bridge in the evenings. I also did a little occupational therapy, but the only thing I can remember making was a pair of sheepskin shoes to take home for Rosey.

I was lucky to be invited to spend two or three weekends with Mr and Mrs Napier at Vereeniging.

They were the parents of David Napier, number four in the Blue Boat of 1937, who had been lost in a submarine in the Mediterranean a few weeks before. I also spent one or two weekends with people called Blackwood-Murrray who were very hospitable.

On a memorable occasion a Scot, who I partnered at Bridge quite often, and I were invited to a Johannesnerg Bridge Club. To our great surprise and relief we did very well, including bidding and making a little slam, and returned to the hospital with quite sizeable cheques.

Curiously enough although I was in the same ward as about twelve others of similar age for some six months I did not make any lasting friendships.

Then to our great relief we were repatriated 鈥� train to Durban, 鈥極range鈥� hospital ship to Suez, train to Alexandria and hospital ship, Atlantis, to Liverpool, to a hospital nearby. This was three days before Christmas 1943 and to our dismay all train travel for service personnel had been cancelled for the Christmas period. However somehow I managed to wangle a rail-pass to London and on by taxi to rejoin Rosey in the flat she had taken in Wildcroft Manor on Putney Heath, arriving about 5 pm on Christmas Eve.鈥�

Soon after the New Year I reported to Roehampton Hospital where I was examined by the orthopaedic surgeon who took a look at my and said 鈥� 鈥淲hat do you want to do?, it still not quite healed. I replied 鈥� 鈥淒o whatever you think necessary so that I can wear a false limb.鈥� So into hospital for the third and final amputation. It healed quickly and I was soon being measured for a false leg.

Alan continued a very active life rowing and working but never let his disability prevent him from trying everything. Snow skiing was very difficult but water skiing seemed to be no problem on either one or two skis and he even tried windsurfing. The parent鈥檚 running race at school was always a challenge but he still beat many other Dad鈥檚. Although I had frequently asked him about all the grisly details I did not feel able to read his war storey until after he died.

Alan died in July 2002 leaving three grown up children, he was predeceased by Rosey.

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