On 3rd September, 1939, we all listened to the B.B.C at 12 noon and heard the Prime Minister say that Germany, Herr Hitler, had not replied to our ultimatum that they would not invade/take Danzig, the Polish port, and that therefore we were at war with Germany. Although expected it was a sobering blow and if we had known what horrors were to be endured during the next six years it would have been more sadly accepted.

Life went on normally and Joyce and I were married in Wadhurst church on 23rd October 1939, at about 11 a.m. the Rev. Mannering officiated. Joyce's Mother had some help from her friends and gave us and guests an excellent reception, and we caught an afternoon train and got to Huntingdon early evening. We knew we would not be together very long as I was sure to be called up so we lived in my grandmother's house as she only occupied the ground floor front room. When I went out for orders to the Papworths, Offords, Riptons and Woodwalton (on different days) everything seemed very normal and it was in fact what was called the 'phoney' war period because nothing seemed to be happening - it was in fact the lull before the storm.

I went to Cambridge for my 'medical' and passed A2 vision as I had to wear glasses (and had since I was six) so I had no choice but Army. So I waited to be called up and it was then the German Army swept into France and Belgium going round the so called 'impregnable' Maginot Line and the British Army was overwhelmed by superior equipment, tanks and aircraft, and retreated as orderly as they could to the channel Ports - mainly Dunkirk. I got my notice to report to the Pioneer Corps at Yarmouth on 6th June 1940, and went to Wadhurst to see Joyce and family before joining up. On the way down on the train from Charing Cross I saw trainloads of soldiers, dirty and tired looking coming from the south coast and the W.V.S. (Womens Voluntary Service) served them tea and sandwiches at some stations. We had a few nice warm sunny days walking over some of our old walks and  we  could  hear  the  rumble of bombs and guns across the Channel as our Army was evacuated from Dunkirk by every boat and ship that could be mustered and many private volunteers saved thousands of soldiers while the Germans strafed the beaches and bombed and machine gunned the ships and boats; most of our Army was saved but a lot of equipment and arms were lost - it was a depressing time and we had our backs to the wall. Mr. Churchill made his now famous and historic speech to the Nation saying we would fight them on the beaches and in the fields and in the air and on the sea but would never surrender. Well - we knew where we stood and that's how things were when I joined the Army at Yarmouth on 6th June 1940. Men of about my age converged from all over the Midlands, Nottingham, Leicester, Derby areas and we had inoculations and vaccinations and a month's training: marching, P.T., route marches etc. Sergeants and Corporals   were appointed and we were formed into Sections i.e. 25 privates, 1 Sergeant, 2 Corporals and 2 Lance Corporals. There was a Lieutenant in charge of 2 Sections. The whole Company consisted of, as far as I can remember, a Major, a Captain, 4 Lieutenants, a Sergeant Major, a Quarter Master Sergeant, and 12 Sections such as above.

When we had air raids we were all marched out of the camp (at night) and paraded in a field not far away as I suppose this was considered safer for us rookies. There was a Lewis machine gun on a tripod for shooting at low flying aircraft which sometimes machine-gunned such camps. One of the unpleasant things at this time was getting used to army boots - blisters were common.

Cpl. C.W.Clarke (Pioneer Corps)

We were all entrained one July day and after several hours found we were in Scotland and eventually got off the train at Tam  (on the south side of the Dornoch Firth). We were billeted in the town, four of us in a nice large house with Mrs. Hurd who treated us very well, always biscuits and tea in the evening. Our kitting out and training continued and then two sections under a Lieutenant were sent to Dornoch to put obstructions in the form of long poles in a pattern upright in a huge area of sand which could provide the enemy with a good landing ground for gliders or planes at low tide. This was very hard work as the poles had to be carried out and put in holes dug for them. In some places round boulders had to be dug out. We worked as soon as the tide began to leave until once again it became too wet to work. We also put poles in many large flat fields in the area. As we had only one pair of boots it became difficult to ever have dry feet. We also did a patrol guard on the coastline. The people of Dornoch, nearly all female of course at that time, were extremely kind to us, they opened a canteen and ran dances. Leslie Fice a Cornishman, and I were provided with tennis raquets and balls and given permission to play on the Club Court. Owing to our Army duties we could only play on Sunday afternoons and some of the older inhabitants were a bit shocked at that. On Sundays we had Church Parade, marching to the little Cathedral and then some marching drill after and usually the afternoon free. One Sunday the Laird invited us all to his grand house set in magnificent gardens.

Sgnt's Mess, Coast Defence Arillery (rear centre)

After about six weeks we returned to Tain, this time Leslie Fice and I were billeted with the Gas Works manager and his wife at the Gas Works; they were also very nice, plenty of hot water etc. I got ten days leave about this time, 23rd September 1940, and went from the peace of this part of Scotland to the turbulence and excitement of active war in southern England. On going out of Kings Cross Station to get a bus to Charing Cross I realised an air raid was in progress and the bus conductor said 'Be quick there's an air raid on’ I didn't argue but I couldn’t see what being quick or slow had to do with it. The railway line from Charing Cross was running a bit slow and I saw a lot of damage and planes that had been shot down; we had to wait an hour at Tonbridge and went into the town for a drink. All seemed reasonably normal at Durgates but at night it was 'crump! crump!' most of the time. Then the next day the air raid warning and looking up, high in the sky we could see little silver butterflies going towards London and we heard the heavy ack ack at Tonbridge. We later had a film-like view from the front of ‘Melbourne’ of aerial combats, planes being shot down in flames, parachutes floating down and the rip, like tearing cloth of machine guns which now and again seemed to come a bit low and make one step hastily back under the cover of the porch. That night we heard on the wireless that we had shot down 183 German planes - the highest number so far - and so it went on and I felt a bit like cheating when I had to return to the peacefulness of Scotland after calling to see my parents at Huntingdon which was also comparatively quiet.

First leave 1940: with Dennis, Pa and Mother

Soon after my leave I was transferred with two others of the 147 Company Pioneer Corps, to the Cameronions (Scottish Rifles) Hamilton Barracks, Glasgow. We were put with others into fairly rigorous training - I can't remember all the times but - first thing in the morning P.T. stripped to the waist - then breakfast - rifle drill - marching with rifle at the trail - Bren gun training - firing on the range and so on. It eventually came to target shooting with respirators on and I had to leave my glasses off and I couldn't see the target well enough so from being one of the best shots I was the worst. Soon after that several of us had to parade at the medical centre for eyesight tests by an optician and I was graded A2 vision and was soon rejoining my old (147) Company in Tain.

On reporting back to Tain on 1st October 1940 I had been given a different billet, Mr. & Mrs. McDonald, he was a local train driver and they were very nice and knew before we did that we were going to the Orkneys just before Christmas (1940) and they gave us a Christmas dinner before then.

In the meantime it was out in small Sections putting poles in any large flat areas which would possibly be used by the enemy to land gliders or planes. Sometimes we had cycles and carried out exercises for trapping and destroying with Molotov cocktails, enemy tanks which would try to subdue resistance in the area. We cycled to Invergordon, a very important Naval base, on one of the exercises. We also worked round the coast and I found the little fishing villages interesting: Port Mahomack and Tarbatness particularly.

About 20th December we entrained at Tain for Thurso, we were marched to a camp and given a meal etc. then marched to the pier at Scrabster and boarded a medium sized boat named ‘The Earl of Zetland’ for the Orkney Islands. I shall always remember that first crossing as it was the roughest sea I had ever known and we were high in the air looking over everything including another boat (and Dunnet head in the distance) one minute and deep in a trough looking up at the sides of the waves the next:  it was really quite thrilling. It was only a short journey and a good thing too, the Pentland Firth is noted for rough seas and strong winds and this was a good introduction to our eight months stay. Our camp at Long Hope on Hoy, a small harbour with a post office and a small cluster of houses, was up a short distance above the harbour and was not completely finished - we had Nissan Nuts with one tortoise stove in the middle and I think thirteen beds  on  the sides with the head on the outside and foot pointing in and the gangway between. Our only ‘facilitie’ were large buckets, one outside each hut door for night use and a row with a rough seat of sorts in a separate Nissan Hut in about the centre of the camp. The cookhouse and dining hall were also Nissan huts next to each other. The Officers' Mess was farther along and the guardroom beyond on the camp boundary, the Company Office was near.

We had in our turn to do guard duty and when I was on sentry at the farthest outpost from the guardroom it was very quiet and peaceful most nights and the aurora borealis was marvellous, a huge multicoloured sheet across the sky. Of course it was not always so peaceful and when the 'Iron Duke' fired their Pom-Poms there was quite a din and whenever the odd plane came over our part of the Islands and all the guns opened up it was very noisy. Once the planes shot down a barrage balloon in flames. We did everything - unloaded coal boats at Lyness, gunbarrels, once at Long Hope - very heavy and difficult to load on to lorries for the Artillery. Repaired the causeway with stone, I was labouring for two R.E. stonemasons, even broke stone in the quarry with a heavy long handled hammer. I was on a Detachment for several weeks on a wild part, Tor Ness, of the Island near the lighthouse, we had to lay a light railway from the hard area at the end of the road as that was the only means of transporting everything to the site where we were building a RADAR station  - all under camouflage nets. All this area was thick heather course and bouncy. The odd bright green flat grassy looking patches we learned were bogs - we helped a farmer pull a cow out of one. There were high heather covered cliffs and below one I saw the remaining steel frame of a ship jammed into the rugged rocks below and the waves pushing and pulling it continuously. There were many kinds of gulls and cormorants, also seals in the sheltered areas. The sunny days in summer though never really warm were very pleasant with the fresh salty wind giving smarting sunburn on exposed arms when working.

The Navy invited us to look over various ships in Scapa Flow and at weekends those not on duty were allowed to draw cards to be taken by drifter or naval motor boat to be guests of the Navy. I visited a ship whenever I got the chance and I see by my diary I visited  'H.M.S. Suffolk' on Saturday, 19th July 1941, and the 'Prince of Wales' on 26th July 1941. The battleship was in for repairs to its superstructure. I remarked to a friend that was the ship to be on,  as I couldn't  imagine it could ever be sunk. I went on several other large ships including a destroyer in which I was shocked by the lack of space for the crew. It was always a good chance to buy chocolate, cigarettes and tobacco at the ship's NAFFI as everything was duty free.

I was also lucky to draw a card to go to Lyness to see Gracie Fields, among others, at a large Garrison Theatre; an Admiral gave a little chat and thanked the stars of the show.

Whenever we went anywhere far afield it had to be by drifter; when I went on leave on 17/2/41 I had to wait several days because the sea was too rough but it was still pretty rough when I got the drifter from Long Hope to Lyness at 9.30 a.m., where I had to leap to the ladder on the side of the quay, this was not an easy job as I had on my back my large haversack pack and battle order equipment i.e. rifle, fifty rounds of .303 ammunition and respirator, and wearing my greatcoat. The timing was important - to leave the drifter as it rose to its highest point - grab the ladder and climb quickly up to the deck of the quay. Then another small boat was used to take me (and the others going on leave etc.) to the St. Ninian at 1 p.m. which took me to Scrabster. It was very rough and the St. Ninian was full of others like myself and I found a resting place on the foredeck area. The spray came over the bows and we got a little wet. We were met on landing by the garrison personnel that managed leave from Scapa Flow and taken to 'rest' huts at Thurso at 4 pm. where we were fed etc. and had to stay until the train left at 9 p.m. on 18th due, we were told, to snow-blocked railway lines and then York Station was bombed and the lines damaged. We left Edinburgh at 10 a.m. on 19th arriving Peterborough at 10.20 p.m., where I walked down to the canteen for something to eat and then caught a train to Huntingdon arriving at 2.30 a.m. on 20th, which was two days after I had left Long Hope. The next day I got a train to Kings Cross and went across London for Charing Cross but it had to be London Bridge, I can't remember why, I expect it was bomb damage because I couldn't get a train to Wadhurst and had to spend the night in a serviceman's canteen/shelter at London Bridge and was told I could travel on the paper train leaving at 4 a.m. which I did. The journey was slow and there was considerable damage along the line particularly in the London area. Wadhurst was pleasant and I realised my rifle would need a thorough clean - it most certainly did  - the sea spray had made the barrel rusty so I put the gauze on the pull-through and it was so hard to pull through that the cord broke. I had to go to see Joyce's Uncle Jack, the blacksmith, who got the gauze out for me, 'thank goodness!’ That done I had a fairly good time except that my vaccination hurt my left arm and I didn't feel as fit as I would have liked. I expect they thought that to vaccinate just before ten days leave was a good idea. The journey back to Long Hope was not too bad, on 1/3/41. 1 did however get told off by the C.O. as I had bean reported by the M.P. (Red Caps) for being in Tunbridge Wells, we had been to see Joyce’s Aunt Alice, without my respirator whilst on leave; he let me off. We used to do field exercises and shooting competitions etc. on Sundays sometimes and I usually won the shooting - I put my good shooting down to having an airgun at home as I grew up and we shot at match sticks. My eight months on Orkney were very mixed and sometimes extreme from unloading a coal boat at Lyness all day sometimes starting at about 7 a.m. in bitter weather, a flurry of snow in an icy wind, to a few times of real enjoyment on sunny comparatively warm days in the heather helping to build a RADAR station in a completely uninhabited part of the Island not far from the lighthouse, there were only about a dozen of us there with a few R.E.s.

We were quite thrilled when we got to Duddingston, a few miles from Edinburgh, it was civilisation with a vengeance after the Orkneys. I enjoyed walking down to Musselburgh to swim in the warm sea-water pool there, it was quite cheap, and must have been for me to be able to afford it and a glass of beer with a few of my friends in a nearby pub. I also enjoyed walking up to the top of Arthur's Seat (700 ft. I think) and looking out all round the Firth of Forth - the Forth Bridge and the islands one way and Edinburgh itself and countryside the other. I often walked across the park to Holyrood Palace and through the yard and up to Edinburgh sometimes getting the tram, which clattered up and down between Musselburgh and Edinburgh. I sometimes walked through the tenement area; rather dull streets up to the better parts of the city. I enjoyed fine Sunday evenings watching Scots Guards Band - marching and playing near the Scot Memorial in Princes Street. Soon after getting to Duddingston I was told to report to Company Office at 9 a.m. and thought I must be on a charge for something or other but it was for Major Freeborn our CO. (nicknamed Bimbo) to tell me that as I knew he had to censor letters and noticed I wrote well and wanted me in the Company Office, I didn't fancy that  as I was happy enough with the rest of the lads so I said that my eyes were not really suitable for office work - he said I was to report next morning and he would arrange for me to go to Edinburgh Castle, which was the Army health Centre, to have my eyes tested and Army glasses supplied (I still had only my own glasses which as earlier mentioned could not be worn with a respirator). I went to the Castle in the morning of 15th September ‘41, and came out later in the afternoon with two pairs of Army glasses, which fitted perfectly, and I've still got one pair. Anyway that put paid to any objections that would be acceptable and I started as a clerk in Company Office under Sgt. MacConnall who was quite a nice enough chap but as one would expect a stickler for having everything done properly and by the book. It was not long however before I was loaned to the Q.M. to do the pay which was quite a job for the 300 plus other ranks (and we also had part of the Scottish Command Orchestra, many of them German Jews attached to us for rations etc. and we were given some lessons by them in the German language). I was very successful at the pay job and eventually got a single stripe, lance corporal, to go with the job; for the money for the pay I dealt directly with Capt. Greenup, a very nice chap who was always friendly to me. I went out to Detachments in the area with the paying officer. Joyce came up to Edinburgh twice for a few days in the summer of 1942, and we went around Duddingston, Edinburgh, and Portobello etc.

    I came back from leave on 22nd October, 1942, to be told that I had been posted to 150 (Welsh) Co, Pioneers at Peebles which was being made up to go overseas and they apparently had no-one able to carry out the duties I was good at - assistant to the Q.M., in particular - pay. I didn’t have much time to bid my old friends in 147 Co. farewell and there were only a few English in the Welsh Company. I had to report to the ‘Hydro’ Medical Centre on 23rd October 1942, to check my fitness including teeth, to go abroad. I had to send personal things to Joyce etc. and get prepared for whatever was to come. Early November, ‘42, we knew we were being sent overseas but had no clues as to where. We entrained and arrived in Glasgow Docks on 10th November then boarded a large ship; I think it was named ‘Orano’ or something like that. The difference between officers and other ranks was more pronounced now than ever, ‘they’ had cabins 'we' had hammocks slung under the ceiling along the mess tables on ‘E’ deck near the rear end of the ship. We soon got fairly adept at managing the hammocks. The ship moved down the Clyde the next morning and we all went up on deck - the banks seemed to be a hive of industry and the shipyards hooted us and the workers, many of them seemed to be young women, waved and cheered us - it turned into a thrilling and exciting journey; the shipyards gave way to open areas and a few dwellings. One soldier jumped overboard from the rear of our boat probably hoping to swim to shore but was picked up by the following ship. The river became very wide and we anchored off Gourock along with a lot of other ships, this was obviously  the  gathering of a large convoy - to where? A long way and a huge operation - but - India? Africa? Not much good speculating or worrying - nothing to be done about it. We stayed there a day or two and other ships moved about as far as we could see. Then at last it was happening and we awoke to feel the roll and heave of open sea. Up on deck there was only sea in every direction with ships scattered almost as far as could be seen. I soon realised I was seasick as I got dizzy and did not want anything to eat. There were, however, the lucky ones who were glad enough to eat the extras left by myself and a few others also affected. I had to write the acquittance rolls for the Company to be paid at sea, then take them and the summary of cash required to the purser's office in the middle part of the ship. I slowly got better and began to enjoy being at sea - we had boat drill every morning on the open deck where a naval officer accompanied our own, he suddenly punched from beneath the lifebelt in front and it jerked the head back like a punch on the jaw - 'Get that tied up tighter' – ‘That’s nothing to what the sea will do if you have to jump over the side if we get hit, it could break your neck’. We also had drill for surface attack - we had to lie flat on the mess deck with our feet pointing to the side. I think it was around the forth or fifth day when we were told we were going to Algiers etc. and in the evening we saw lights of towns on shore someway off on the starboard side. It was Morocco and/or Algiers as we knew when we passed Gibraltar on the port side sometime later on a clear sunny morning. We saw the Algerian coast with white buildings all seemed to be jumbled together on the slopes up from the coast. The ship berthed on 22/11/42 and we disembarked - we all had our large packs, fifty rounds and rifle. Our kit bags were stacked separately and we did not see them again for a long time. We were then marched to the botanical gardens up in the town just above the docks area where we were allocated a site among the trees of a small wood and a small open area where our 'Lewis' gun was set up on a high tripod as some sort of air defence (pitiable though it was - it was fired at by a plane that flew low with its guns blaring).

That night as soon as it got dusk the evening planes were over, diving at us to bomb the dock area and ships. Of course all the guns protecting the docks and ships fired at the planes as they came over our positions and the shrapnel from the shells fell on and around us causing some casualties though none fatal that I knew of. One thing I shall always remember was Guards Band, a little way off, which played for a time and it was cheering. We were allowed to walk into Algiers the following late afternoon and had a glass of wine in a cafe; then the air raid warning went and the proprietor shooed us out and pulled his metal shutters down as did all the shops etc. We declined the offer to visit Arab girls in the narrow back street nearby and went back to 'camp'. We had no shelter and it rained so heavily that it seeped over my groundsheet and it became impossible to sleep so I decided to explore for shelter. I found a group of large glasshouses, as had a lot more chaps, and we decided to chance it and I did in fact drop off to sleep for a while on the dry earth. Next morning was bright and comparatively warm; I had to see about boxes of compo rations as I was considered by the Lieut. as Q.M.s staff. On 26/11/42 we were marched to the dock area and had quite  a  long march, we had to carry all our supplies but  found an old two-wheel cart to help. Eventually we arrived at the right ship, not very big, and embarked only about fifty of us – we were an advance party. There were small numbers of other Corps and Regiments and we were a very mixed lot. We were allocated a small area below decks and sat around on the deck for some sustenance as the ship moved out from the dockside, there was a sudden noisy clatter (which I immediately knew was the anchor being dropped) and a lot of the men not far from us made a panic rush to the stairway and blocked it because they thought we’d been hit - it soon calmed down. The Tannoy whistled and a voice said “Shut up! This is the Captain, we shall not be far from the coast and if we are hit there are plenty o rafts on deck, if there are no other orders make for the shore - that's all - good luck”. We then learned we were bound for Bone, which was the nearest port to the front, and the enemy was trying to drive us out by dive-bombing and torpedoing ships on their way to and from and in the port.

We docked at Bone on 27/11/42 late morning or early afternoon and marched through the streets to a school, which had been allocated to us, it stood a bit apart from the town proper and had a walled courtyard. We had just got settled in and the Lieut. asked me if I could find my way back to the docks and I said I could as I usually take notice of where I am going. So he asked me to take the bicycle and see what had happened to our 15 cwt. truck which the driver had to wait for as we had gone before it could be unloaded. I got to the docks and looked around for truck and driver - Pte. McGinley - I couldn't find them and asked around and was told it had left just before I got there so I started back - I must have taken a right turn before the one I should have and found myself in a narrow road with a lot of Arabs some of whom turned and looked at me! I did some quick thinking and kept going and got a bit worried as it was getting dark. I thought if I turn left at the end of this road I should get into the end of the road I should have been on; there were no other soldiers about and I had my rifle slung across my back and we had been told the Arabs were not all friendly etc., anyway when I had gone a short way after turning at the end of the roads I saw an outline in the distance which looked familiar and made for it. The Lieut. greeted me at the gate as he had been looking for me and said “Thank goodness, the truck arrived some time ago and I was about to send out a search party for you as it is very dangerous here after dark”. We had been told that before and that the stukas would be over and it was inadvisable to even show a cigarette end. That proved to be correct - we put our groundsheets up at the windows and got candle light to see and get a place on the floor to sleep. We had only just put the candle out when the first plane came screaming towards 'us' and a bomb whistled down and exploded very close shattering the windows and our groundsheets - all the time a bofor's ack ack was banging away also close to us. Anyway in spite of all the glass fragments no-one was injured - we were lucky - we had already heard a section of Pioneers had been killed in Bone just before we got there. Our job was preparing a site for a Field Hospital just outside the town - we  passed the  airfield which was scattered with damaged/wrecked planes. We jumped out of our transport (three tonners) when a plane was spotted - the drill was to run away from the truck and crouch in the ditch (if available).

We only had three or four days in Bone and entrained  in  cattle trucks - I think it was 20 hommes (men) or 5 chevals (horses) on the side or   the   trucks.    We   passed   through   varied  countryside - flat  at  first then becoming more varied with some trees and hills, in the afternoon we stopped at Souk Ahras and were taken by truck to a racecourse on higher ground outside the town.

We were settling in as best we could, turned some chickens out from one part under the grandstand that made a place in which to sleep under shelter; even if it was a bit dirty and smelly it was better than nothing. We then sorted out some rations and tried to heat them with our solid (paraffin?) fuel when a platoon of American trucks, green, smart looking and large rolled into the area, within a few minutes the chap in charge shouted to us to come on over and bring our dixies for hot stew, so we lined up and from one of the trucks which was a mobile kitchen we were all given a generous ladle of hot stew and a handful of fruit drop sweets  - that was our first contact with the Americans at war and we were very impressed and felt rather like very poor relations. We did not stay on the racecourse, we were trucked into Souk Ahras to a large three storey block of modern flats which the Army had taken over and we were given the top flat - we were still on compo rations and I was in charge of seven men in two rooms and sharing out of compo rations - i.e. two men shared one tin of steak & kidney pudding and a tin of treacle pudding or fruit, and seven cigarettes and five sheets of toilet paper each. We worked in various jobs - unloading the first Bailey bridge parts from the goods train among other things) ammunition etc. Hospital trains straight from the First Aid Dressing Station stopped at the station sometimes for a short time and it was sobering for us to see all the wounded from only a very short distance. The hospital antiseptic type sweet pungent smell when the carriage doors were opened also lingers in my memory. I had to patrol a long railway tunnel at night with two men in case parachutists tried to blow it up - it was a rough job but the tunnel remained open.

One of my subsection had a great desire for bread AS WE ONLY HAD HARD BISCUITS in the compo rations. He was short of good teeth so I decided that when I went into the town to get the post etc. I'd try to get him some although it was forbidden. I kept a sharp eye out for Red Caps and got him some. One morning a day or so later I saw on the Company Notice Board, which I always checked before going anywhere in the morning that we were allowed to buy local bread so long as the shop had it to spare and the local customers did not have to go short. That day I didn’t worry about Red Caps and saw two out of the corner of my eye as I came out of the bakers. They stopped me and said “Can I look in that sack Corporal, have you got some bread?” I said I had, they asked if I knew it was against the law and I said that the order was changed that morning. They took my name and number and Company etc. as I don't think they believed me - I heard no more of it. One night I shall never forget we awoke to planes zooming close to the flats - bombs and machine gun fire  - our Sgt. came and ordered us to get down to the basement immediately, I had to make sure everyone had gone and one man ‘Pte. Diggle’ for whom I had bought the bread would not go and asked me to go without him as he was not afraid to stay up there (on the top floor). Eventually I got him to go as I said, and he knew, I could not leave him there. As I got near the outside door at the bottom of the stairway there was a huge blast as a bomb was dropped close to the building and it blew my tin hat off my head. I heard later that a sergeant was killed outside, the area seemed at last to quieten down, it was about dawn and we were told to go back to our room and get ready for work. On the journey downstairs next morning I noticed the walls pocked and pitted by gunfire or shellfire. We were taken to the railway station, which was a shambles - trucks blown apart and ammunition, mortar bombs and shells littered the lines and surrounding area. We had to collect all this, but I was taken off with a pte. to stop anyone from using a road the other side, well above the lines, which was covered in shells and mortar bombs etc. Two French officers had to take a car out and gave us a bottle of wine. There was an American manned anti-aircraft gun at the station but they didn't hit anything - it was the most horrible dangerous mess and we were all relieved when it was cleared up. We pulled some girders out of a bombed building/house in the town. We were not sorry to be set on road building as an urgent job for tanks to be brought forward on transporters, so much quicker than under their own power. It was the road edges that would spread and fall away on sharp slopes that had to be strengthened.

Christmas day 1942 - we had now been joined by the main part of the company and had a sergeant Major to contend with again, he was a smallish man who relished his position and wore his revolver low on his thigh, I thought - who does he think he is - Wyatt Earp? We were treated to a kind of Christmas celebration or a meal for almost the whole Company together including a small bottle of beer. Then it was back to work. Soon after Christmas we were moved from Souk Ahras to a small village high up in the Atlas Mountains. Our Company Office was in a single storey building over an open cellar and the office manager Sgt. Williams, and Company runner Pte. Winter, and myself - pay, rations and general Q.M.'s dogsbody, had to sleep in the office. There were severa] other Corps and Regiments represented here, it was a small holding and reinforcement camp and when the Germans made their big effort at Tebbessa Gap where the American armour was savagely beaten the camp almost emptied overnight. We received orders to destroy any German tanks that broke through and to stay and fight - ‘there would be no withdrawals':-

''''224           SPECIAL ORDER              22/2/42

The following message has been received from the Army Commander:

     
IT   IS  ABSOLUTELY  ESSENTIAL  THAT  ALL  INDIVIDUALS UNITS AND FORMATIONS STAND FAST TO THEIR POSTS AND DO NOT WITHDRAW WHEN BEING ATTACKED DIRECTLY OR OUTFLANKED. THERE IS TO BE NO FURTHER WITHDRAWAL UNDER ANY EXCUSE (.) IF ENEMY INF OR ARMOUR BREAKS INTO A POSITION OR AROUND ITS FLANKS THE GARRISON WILL HOLD FIRMFIGHT TO THE LAST AND DO ITS VERY UTMOST TO PREVENT FURTHER ENEMY TROOPS OR TRANSPORT IN REAR FROM FOLLOWING THROUGH (.) THE POST WILL NOT BE ABANDONED (.)

IT IS THE DUTY OF THE INDIVIDUAL TO HOLD ON (.) BY DOING SO WE HAVE THE CERTAINTY OF INFLICTING VERY GRAVE DAMAGE ON THE ENEMY WHO IS TAKING VERY GREAT RISKS IN THIS THRUST HE IS MAKING AND OF DEFEATING HIS MAIN OBJECT (.) ALL REARWARD INSTALLATIONS AND SERVICES WILL BE ATTACKED DEFEND THEIR VEHICLE DEPOTS ETC TO THE LAST (.) NO PETROL MUST SE ALLOWED TO FALL IN ENEMY HANDS (.)”

I later took the above notice to that effect from our notice board and still have it. Tanks and trucks passed through the camp from the Souk Ahras direction towards Tabbessa and of course we had to be alert and ready for anything  - when I made my regular trip by 15 cwt. truck to Souk Ahras for rations etc. the town which had lately been full of American soldiers was almost deserted. We usually popped into a cafe for a glass of wine &/or a small cup of strong sweet coffee. The road from Souk Ahras to the camp was hazardous to say the least  - a continuous climb on narrow roads cut out of the side of the hills and in places the corners were very tight and the edges loose with a steep fall on one side and the stony side of the mountain on the other  - one got very dizzy and almost seasick in the back of the truck with the rations etc. while anyone of higher rank who was with us sat in front.

We all got very unpleasant diarrhoea and some dysentery about this time; the cause was uncertain as we all used only our water bottles treated with one blue and one white purifying tablet for drinking apart from cookhouse tea - it was probably the poor hygiene-latrine buckets; some holes dug - few and distant and washing facilities - cold water tap even further and I can remember only one for the camp. I consulted the doctor casually, as the medical first aid station was at the far end of the Company office building, and he said he could do nothing. My Section got sent on a special job to Oued Keberit. a railway village where the Algerian  and Tunisian railway connected but as they were of a different gauge everything from Algeria to Tunisia and the more forward areas had to be unloaded and loaded again - this was mostly disposable petrol cans which were not very strong and could not be treated roughly. We were billeted in houses; there was one squat lavatory (basically just a smelly hole in the floor) in the middle of the village. A dispatch rider came each day with orders/letters etc. and one day he did not come as usual - he had struck soft sand and been thrown off and hurt his leg and crawled along the railway line until he had been found and brought into the village. The land on the side away from the village across the railway was a kind of 'waste' like a raised jigsaw puzzle with irregular and disjointed very low and high parts. No vehicles of any kind could negotiate it and it was extremely difficult and slow going on foot. One day two Germans landed by parachute in the area and we went out and they put up a white flag and surrendered to us without any trouble. The Section was recalled to the main camp and the front moved a bit further from us. When I was out with our Captain in the truck on some business I cannot remember we went into the walled Arab town of Tebbessa through a huge gateway. The roadways were narrow and really unsuitable for trucks and we did not go far. There were quite a few camels on the plain in the valley between the hills.

Our next move was for the whole Company to go by train from Souk Ahras to near Souk El Aba timed so they told us to arrive in the dusk and very slowly as the enemy popped shells at the train if they heard or saw it. We were then taken by truck in the dark for what seemed a very long way on bumpy roads and up and down etc, to a small town Teboursouk. We were able to get a sleep and were sorted out properly next day into various houses. The town seemed to have been abandoned by almost all civilians, Arab and French, even the French Army Foreign Legion barracks at the end of town. The Company office was quite a nice house beside a road which ran along a high ridge with fields and olive groves below and towards Medjes El Bab where the front was. The Company did several jobs, mostly handling ammunition, loading the shells at night to go to the guns. The enemy flew over at night and gunned the roads with cannon shells; they dropped flares to try to find their targets and bombed the village in daylight. Two or three of us were standing outside the office after lunch one day when we saw two planes over the olive grove diving towards us and thought they were ours until we saw the bombs falling from them towards us - we dived back inside the doorway and heard them go over us and explode a short distance away - we found out later that the 'Town Hall’ in the centre of town had been hit and destroyed. It was due to our C.O. Major Hart that we were not in that building. Though it had been allocated to us he refused to occupy it as he said it was too prominent. Major Hart was a middle aged very steady and reasonable Commanding Officer (C.O.). A peripatetic dentist visited us there and I had two temporary fillings; also a mobile laundry dished out clothing on an exchange basis. I walked around as much as I was able usually with a friend though it was not safe to go far on foot. We visited a small cemetery and found there some graves with a German helmet on a roughly made cross, also a kind of sepulchre nearly full of bones and skulls, which were smallish, and we thought of children. We also visited Douga, a Roman settlement with remains of stone buildings, even a seated toilet very well crafted. We captured a German parachutist  in that area. 

We were all paraded to take an anti-malarial drug mepacrine tablet which had to be swallowed in front of supervising officers and the C.O. Later in the night I awoke feeling ill and managed to get to the latrine which lucky for me was quite near, and sat down just in time for the most violent evacuation from both ends at once. There were a lot of others there and coming, most who did not make it and nearly all were in a dreadful state and helpless and weak. I eventually felt well enough to go back and get a little sleep. The next morning I could not eat and had to go 50 miles to the railhead Depot for rations over shell pocked roads and having to keep a look out for planes, and we loaded the trucks with great difficulty – I remember feeling that a case of corned beef seemed to weigh a ton. We were told to persist and would get used to it - I think one had to be dead before being allowed to stop the tablets in spite of the effects though becoming less were very unpleasant – always bouts of diarrhoea and nausea at odd times. There were now crude notions on straight stretches of road saying: Famous last words – ‘It's one of ours’ or ‘It's only a spit’, ‘Keep a Sharp lookout’, ‘don’t get caught in the rear flyproof cookhouses and latrines’ etc. I went with our Captain one day to a monastery in the hills to buy some wine for the Officers' Mess. There were vines all in neat rows covering a huge slope and looking incongruously neat and cared for so near to areas of war - a tented Field Hospital not far away and closer to our billets, I often had to pass a First Aid Hospital and saw the many bodies wrapped in blankets laid in rows. The day came when part of the Eighth Army joined us and scores of ambulances poured through. The big push for Tunis was on. I remember going over a Bailey bridge over a river near Medjes El Bab and seeing the destruction and mess left. I remember, not very clearly now, going in the truck with one of our officers to a high area in a desert like area. And seeing burnt out trucks, earthworks which had been blasted, rough holes and rubble of war. It was obviously a position which had been vigorously attacked and stubbornly defended.

The day came when we heard that Tunis had been taken and we were to go there. A few of the smartest from our Company were picked out to march in the Victory Parade in Tunis, a grand show with Generals etc. Montgomery and Alexander. Major Hart and his driver Private Prout (a Cornishman) went in the utility truck and I went in the 15 cwt. with driver Pte. Clark. When we arrived in Tunis we learned that the Utility hit a land mine and was blown to a complete wreck. I was lucky not to be in it as the back where I would have been was blown to bits. The reason Major Hart said I should not go with them was because the Utility had been playing up a bit and he wanted some office supplies and me to be sure to get there and take possession of our allocated billet before the rest of our advance section could be moved. In the event I was dropped at this ex-German workshop and left on my own, I was told to be careful of possible booby traps though it had been cleared. Tunis was well known to be littered with booby traps - such things as toilet seats, typewriters, doors etc., and there were plenty of German steel helmets to be had for anyone prepared to take the risk. When I looked round I saw there was an air raid shelter in the back garden which we were warned had not been cleared and could be booby trapped. Under a fig tree near the back door was a green ammunition box with a lid just ajar so I found a length of rope and gingerly tied it to the handle of the box and got round the corner with the other end of the rope and gave  it  a  sharp tug - half expecting an explosion but nothing happened. I could see inside the box now and it was empty. The rest of the section arrived with our kit and other stuff. The main part of the Company were at Carthage, a short distance away. I visited them for some Company reason I forget, probably pay. One of their number had been stung by a scorpion and taken to hospital and another had drunk too much of the farmer’s wine and died of alcoholic poisoning.

The latter case caused quite a lot of discussion because, and I can't remember the details, it was believed that as he had died through his own fault rather than by enemy action his widow would not get any Army pension. I remember seeing a huge aqueduct in the area but nothing much more of any great interest. I also got down to Hammanet, the seaside of Tunis, some shot up German tanks here and there and part of the port area had been heavily bombed and part flattened with some buildings leaving steel frames standing out. The main streets and centre of Tunis was completely untouched by war and the main wide street with date palms along the pavements was impressive as were some of the smartly dressed, though with yashmaks (face masks), young women. A French photographer came and took our section photo in the front yard of our billet and one of any individual who wanted - I still have one of each. In the evening when the wind blew across the cemetery towards us the air had a sickly/bad but sweet smell.

In Tunis - soon after arrival, Advance Section

We only had a few weeks in Tunis and were then taken in trucks to some olive groves just outside Souse and were issued with bivouac tents and we had a marquee for Company Office and Q.M. stores etc. One of our chaps picked up an old tin as he thought, and it exploded and blew his hand off. We knew we had to be careful of such things but it’s easy to be off guard.

I think I may have got the timing wrong but one day we were all paraded and one of the officers walked along and put his arm across a point he had counted to and all those to the right were told to 'right turn and quick march'. The rest of us were dismissed - I suppose I was lucky because I was only just on the left and we didn't see or hear anything of the other approximately half of our Company for some weeks. Then there was a pleasant reunion for some of us who had friends among those marched off. We learned then that they had been in the Salerno landing and had a pretty rough time as the Germans had strenuously opposed this landing on the south west coast of Italy and they were shelled and bombed on the beaches. I think it was three of our Company killed there - I didn't like the officer (Lt. White) in charge of the detachment when he said it was their own fault because he said they should have stayed under cover instead of going to try to help some others who had been buried by earth thrown up by a bomb burst.

Some of the Company was also sent to the Island of Panterlarea invasion, which was a fairly easy - so they said when they returned - occupation of the Island. We had to take over some large number of Italian prisoners in a large area surrounded by a high barbed wire fence. I had to go in to try and count them - the guarded gate being shut behind me. I was called out after a time and I never found out quite why I was sent in unless it was to test my nerve and it certainly did that as I was completely surrounded by the prisoners and could not really communicate with them. We also had to mount a slipper night guard on a huge petrol dump to deter Arabs from pinching the tins. It was mostly in thin non-returnable 2-gallon tins. The tins were useful for water when emptied of petrol; we also used them as small fires by filling the tins with sand soaking with petrol and lighting.

I was lucky in my duties as the C.O. often took me in the back of the 'pick up' Utility or the 15 cwt. truck, sometimes when he didn’t really need me. I went down to Sfax and to a religious Moslem town Kairowan inland, we also stopped and looked at El Djem where there were some ancient ruins a picture of which appeared on the 50 Franc notes.

Quite close to the camp was a farmer's garden with pomegranate bushes etc. and he had a large concrete water tank for irrigation in the evening. He opened a little sluice gate to a series of channels. We used to swim in the tank when it was full when we had the chance. This made a nice break as it was very hot there and the flies were so thick that if you were eating rice pudding it soon looked like currents all over it and they had to be wafted away with every spoonful. Major Hart left us about this time and Major Coventry, an ex-guardsman took his place and he tightened up the discipline a bit but he was very fair.

I developed a kind of fever and went sick one morning - I was the only one that morning and I walked (with my small pack) to Souse Hospital where the sick had to first report at a small outbuilding used as a First Aid Post. The duty doctor gave me a quick examination and asked me if I could manage to walk across to the main hospital. When I got there the Nursing Sister took my temperature and had a look at me and found me a bed in a long ward which was about full of patients  - a doctor examined me later and couldn't be sure what I d got - malaria or sand fly fever or just heat etc exhaustion. I had to stay in bed and our Captain came to see me and said I must try and get better before three weeks as they wanted me back in the Company. If one is in hospital for three weeks one is put on the ‘Y’ list and on discharge from hospital can be sent anywhere. I had a letter from Jack Wilkinson of Huntingdon (Wing Commander I think) whose wing was a little out in the desert. Anyway I improved enough to return to my Unit just before three weeks. I also did not lose my full corporal status which I may have done if I had got on the 'Y' list. On arrival at our camp I found the Sgt. Major had put me as guard commander for that night (he was an officious unpleasant type - a small Scotsman who had not been long with our Company). It was a 'slipper' guard that had to patrol the camp area quietly and I was supposed to go out and check on my patrols etc. but these chaps were all friends and knew I had barely recovered and was not really fit enough to stay up all night. I knew I could trust them and slept most of the night - I dimly heard the orderly officer come to the tent and ask if everything was OK and someone answered him quietly - nothing was said about me sleeping and I had the comfortable feeling that I was among friends and the Sergeant Major was the outsider.

We were pleased to be allocated a school in the town a short time before Christmas and I was sent with a few privates to occupy the building ready for the Company to move in. Our meals were delivered to us by 15 cwt. Truck having been prepared in the cookhouse in the olive groves. Someone banged on my door and one of the privates opened it and before I saw anyone I said “About bloody time – I thought you had forgotten us”, thinking it was our hot meal but I was most surprised when a voice I recognized as an old friend, Dick Saunders of Huntingdon, said “Hello – you’ve changed a bit – how are you?” He was a R.A.S.C. driver and he had been on a job in the vicinity and found out where I was. So we had a chat and I think it cheered us both up.

The lads formed a choir/song group and I was invited to join and at Christmas we gave a concert of sorts. I also on Christmas day 1943, with one other keen swimmer like myself swam out to a half sunken small ship which rested on the sea bed with the superstructure sticking out clear of the sea, the sea was cold but quite bearable.

..........................................4 To Italy...