大象传媒

This story was written in 1997 by my father Edwin (Eddie) Longworth of Ramsbottom, Lancs - born 1915 and died 2002:
I was asked by a gang of men at the mill to join the Territorial Army along with them. This was in April 1939. So I joined the "Terriers". After many rumours the Terriers were called up on Friday 1st September 1939 and war was declared on Sunday 3rd. So on a sweltering hot day on September 1st, I walked out of Stubbins Vale Mill in the afternoon and reported to Ramsbottom Drill Hall. I became a full time soldier of "C Company" 1st/5th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers, No 3450178.
I had been to camp with them the previous June and drill every Thursday night, so by now I had a good idea of what soldiering was all about. I had 拢3.10s. 0d bounty to draw from the army and used it to buy a bike. We were billeted at the Co-op Hall in Ramsbottom but early in October we were taken by train to Rothbury in Northumberland, and then a couple of miles up Coquetdale to Great Tosson and Tosson Mill. This was out in the wilds. Tosson Mill was an old woollen mill, but it had been well cleaned out and became quite comfortable. The River Coquet was in the valley below, with a village called Thropton on the other side. We walked to Rothbury some evenings to a cafe. We trained on the lower slopes of Simonside, but never got the chance to climb to the top. Within weeks we moved to the village of Doddington, near Wooller.
On the first Sunday, three of us went to church and were invited to tea by an elderly couple from Nesbit, hardly a village, more a row of houses. I don't remember their name, just their kindness to us and a good tea. The three, Tom Lord, Bernard Lilley and myself had become good friends. But it wasn't to last, for in the New Year, we moved down to Newbury, Berkshire, the race course. Then I was transferred to 125 Brigade Anti-Tank Company. We were formed at Lord Caernarvon's Highclere Stud Farm. I was put in charge of the canteen, where I sold beer and cigarettes and chocolate; I had the local golf club-house to myself, and the lady who lived at the gatehouse nearby brought me my breakfast so I never had to get up in time for breakfast in camp, which was about 10 minutes walk away.
On the 15th April 1940 we sailed from Southampton to Cherbourg, and then travelled in goods vans by rail to Laval in Mayenne, France. We finally arrived in a village called Monte Serrat. After about a week we left there going northwards. I remember going through Alencon, and Evereux then Amiens to Wervique Sud on the River Lys. Whilst there we exchanged one of our platoons of Territorials with a regular platoon of the Border Regiment. I still had the canteen, but the store of cigarettes and chocolate was soon sold out and that was the end of it. So I became the number three to a gun crew. As I look back it seems a great shambles now. After a couple of weeks we took up position outside Tournai in Belgium. Again I was left in limbo, and making coffee and getting meals for the Platoon Commander, Lt. Ron Cudd. In the evening, he sent me to this section for information - when I got there, there were only troops from another unit who said a shell had landed there and the driver was killed. Numbers one and two, Joe Bradbury and Bill Brown were wounded, so I had to go back and report. As spare man, I together with the Platoon Sergeant had to take the place of the wounded men.
We pulled out of there soon after, and lots of refugees started coming through, blocking all the roads. Confusion reigned, I think. Then we were on the move again, again we stopped and the officers were burning all the papers etc. It was then passed round that we were on our way out. A while after, there was some firing and we stopped and jumped into a ditch. I was right next to Fred Scholes from Ramsbottom - he had been on guard at Brigade HQ and he told me that Joe Seaton had been shot and killed in the shooting. I knew Joe at school, he was from the Hazelhurst area of Ramsbottom. After that there was slow progress along that road. We went through Poperinghe and Ypres, the former was on fire. I thought of my Dad who was here in these places only 22 years before. Eventually we were told to head for Dunkirk. Dates and times were lost now - we came up behind a long line of parked vehicles, this was the end of the road and Dunkirk was across the fields.
There were four of us, Lt. Ron Cudd, Walter Entwistle his batman, driver Walter Uttley and me. I had my small kit, rifle and overcoat, having got rid of my valise. We had gone some way and we met a man who said he was an ambulance driver, and had a loaded ambulance way back and would we help to carry the stretchers to Dunkirk. Ron Cudd said he wasn't giving any orders and we all looked at each other, then the man turned away and we walked on. If you ever have a conscience, try living with that for the rest of your life. We finally arrived at Dunkirk and reached the beach. There were hundreds there. Many had stopped in the town. By this time I tagged along with Walt Uttley, the officer and his batman had disappeared. We weren't left long in peace for the Stuka dive bombers were always on the prowl. They came screaming down to drop their bombs on a likely target. I know we spent at least one night on the beach trying to sleep in the respites from the bombing. We had scraped a hollow in the loose sand and just flattened ourselves to the earth. Once as the planes were machine gunning the bullets were kicking the sand up only three feet from my head. About mid-day on the second day, we were ordered to form a queue as a destroyer, HMS Penelope had come alongside the quay. A pall of smoke hung over the docks from burning oil storage tanks. They must have taken hundreds of men on to the ship and I lost Walter there. I sat down by the rail on a log type float. We had not washed or shaved for ages. After we had set sail, a sailor pushed a mug of cocoa, a packet of biscuits and a big chunk of corned beef in my hands. But it wasn't over yet. A bomber came over and dropped more bombs. I don't know what was hit but I got a terrific jolt.
We landed at Dover, and went by train to Reading and the barracks there. We just lay down and slept the day round. At Reading there were more members of our Anti-Tank Company. We were ordered to hand in our arms (rifles etc) the following day. Within days we entrained again and travelled to Durham. In the village of New Brancepeth we were taken in by the people and given our tea and a great welcome home. We spent the night in the school at New Brancepeth, and the following day moved to nearby Tow Law. It must be realised, troops were arriving in small groups to reform their units and at the same time be near to the east coast in case an invasion by the Germans occurred. Tow Law was only a few rows of houses and colliery spoil heaps. Within days we moved again to Stanhope and were billeted at the castle. I made friends with a lad called Ross. We went to a dance there and also to a pub up Crawleyside. Crawleyside had existed on the local lead mining but the mines were almost worked out.
Within weeks we moved again to Bywell Castle near Stocksfield on Tyne, Northumberland. 125 Brigade, part of the 42nd Division, was now reformed and stationed around the Newcastle on Tyne area. We were now supplied with what had been Bedford 3 ton trucks, fitted with an armoured body. Friend Ross had wanted a transfer to the Royal Navy and was granted his wish so I lost him. We were now into September 1940. It is a fact that throughout the campaign in France and even back in England we were starved of news because we had neither newspapers nor radios. We were under canvas at Bywell, but a room in a house at the castle was set aside as a reading room and we could hear the radio from the house. There we got the news that the RAF had shot down a record number of German bombers that day. I went to a dance at Stocksfield. I was not very elegant in my army boots but it was most enjoyable.A cinema at Mickley was well patronised, it was a bus ride from Stocksfield.Some time later we moved back to Highclere Stud Farm. I learned to drive there with Len Parks. I was in a section with Len Rigby and one other, and learned map reading as well. Our stay this time was notable for the guard lighting the cook's fire with petrol and burning three rows of stables down. I was on leave at the time.
We later moved to Kelsale Court near Saxmundham, Suffolk. It was said that Samuel Cunard built Kelsale Court. We went weekly to Halesworth for baths, and moved to Rendlesham Hall near Woodbridge in the winter and a sea of mud. I learned to ride a motorbike on the golf course there, a Royal Enfield 250. On again into barracks in Colchester - Kirkee Barracks. I'm lost in time here. I went for a walk in the town with Bill Whatmough, and saw a Congregational church, and I said I used to go to Congregational. He said "Let's go then on Sunday", so we went.
Through the summer of 1941 we were under canvas at Chadacre Park, near Long Melford, Sufolk. We had now become 42nd Division Reconaissance Battalion (42 Recce). Chadacre was the home of Earl of Iveagh of the Guiness firm. We started retraining here, and I did radio operating, then a driver mechanics course. We also did an intelligence test. The best were picked out for radio operating, but not me. I got a first class Driver Mechanic certificate, and another 2/9d per day pay. Weeks later I went into the transport office for a work ticket to take out a vehicle and Cpl. Burgess who was in charge, said "Longworth, you were second in that intelligence test. I was first and you were second". It included all the officers, NCOs and men in the Battalion of 800 men.
When we left Chadacre Park in the late autumn, we were provided with Nissan huts, after six months under canvas in the summer. We had to go on courses to change again to armour at Tidworth Barracks, Hampshire. While we were at Chadacre I had been refused leave for my brother's wedding as the company would have been under strength over the weekend. The course at the Royal Armoured Corps Training Depot at Tidworth lasted 6 weeks and covered driving and maintenance of tanks etc, as well as physical training.
We rejoined our unit at Streatlam Camp, near Barnard Castle in the New Year, 1942. We all had to go for interview before the CO and then had the results of our course, and told who was being retained or transferred. Len Rigby left and went to Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, and was later killed in Italy. Harry "Tex" Bamford went to 2/5 Lancashire Fusiliers.
About June 1942 we left Streatlam camp, and went to Carlton in Lindrick, near Worksop, Notts and this was a long stay of 15 months, so we became part of the village. Two or three of our lads married village girls.
We had now become the 10th Tank Brigade, Royal Armoured Corps, and instead of Fusilier I was now a Trooper, and we were issued with black berets in place of the Glengarries which we had worn since the beginning. The black beret was adopted by the Royal Tank Regiment in the First World War because the RTR was first formed in France and most Frenchmen wore it, and in a tank you needed a hat that would stay on. I became bosom pals with a lad called Jack Travis, always called "Jock". We did most things together.
We were to be equipped with Daimler Scout Cars and the drivers were transported to Crowborough in Sussex to collect them. One day down and one day back. In October 1942, I went on a course to Daimler works in Uttoxeter for a week, along with the NCO in charge of the Scout Car Troop. The first night there in civvy billets, I had severe pain in my right leg, absolutely unbearable. I went to the bathroom and on the way I knocked a china doll ornament off the mantleshelf and broke it. I found a bottle of iodine in the bathroom and swabbed it over my leg, and massaged it. The following morning my leg was useless. I couldn't get my boot on. Capt. Brabin, OC Scout Cars was with us and he arranged for me to go sick, but the Army Medical Officer said"Get a big stick and get on parade". Capt. Brabin then got me an appointment with a civvy doctor and he taped my leg from ankle to knee. The pain had gone now, but I was wearing a gym shoe and dragging my foot sideways behind me. It was two weeks before our own MO got me to a specialist at Mansfield General Hospital, who said "You should be in hospital with that". It was diagnosed as dropped foot and I spent a month in Mansfield,then a month in Winwick, near Warrington, then another month at Witton Park, Blackburn Convalescent Depot. I had galvanism electrical treatment to get my foot working again. I apologised for the broken doll. The lady said "That's alright".
Whilst I was in Mansfield Hospital, the battle of El Alamein started, and we were cheered by the news of its success. I returned to my unit at Carlton after New Year 1943, and was excused duties for many weeks, until Sgt. Mitchell discovered that my name wasn't on the duty roster. I was put down for guard duty right away. Jock Travis said one day that I was invited to a house for Sunday dinner with him. He hadn't been inactive while I had been away. So we went for Sunday dinner to Mr and Mrs Ray Cooper's house.