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Thread: On this Day |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Saturday, 12th August 1944
Now we were driving along that road. The first few miles we were able to move rapidly, but then began to slow down. The cause of the congestion was not obvious at first, as the whole road was in our hands and we did not need to follow the armour but as we entered what had been the Falaise pocket, the reason became clear. Both ditches were now overflowing with wrecked enemy vehicles, leaving only the centre for one way movement. We kept stopping, presumably to give the bulldozers a bit of leeway. At one point we stopped abreast of a burnt out amphibious Volkswagen. This had been made mostly of wood, so all that was left were the wheel hubs, the engine and transmission and the skeleton of the seating, with the skeleton of the driver in the driving seat. All that was left of him were calcined bones and the contents of his rectum. There was no sign of an ID, so I did not call out the ghoul squad. We left him in the vehicle to be identified as its driver. Eventually, we arrived at our overnight stop, a row of slit trenches alongside the hedge of a meadow, with a wheat field on the other side. The wheat was already in stooks, which some of the men raided to make bedding for their trenches, until the farmer arrived and offered us dry straw instead. Sunday, 12th August 1945 After sick parade the M.O. introduced me to the Education Officer, who had a second job for me. He showed me a message from ABCA (the Army Bureau of Current Affairs) which the War Office had set up to prepare soldiers in advance for civilian life. I was to be the unit instructor and received a one day cadre course for this purpose. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Sunday, 13th August 1944
This time we stayed at a spot that was not so much a field as a piece of waste ground. The O.C. had received an order that all alcoholic drinks were to be cast away and this seems to be a suitable place for it. The place was somewhat fly infested. I felt, nevertheless, that the order came somewhat late. Anyone who misused alcohol would not have kept it until now. Dr. Kilpack agreed, but “orders is orders” and the whole lot had to be consigned to the flies, including my own bottle, which I had carried, untested, all the way from La Martiniere. I was considering using the cork to replace my water bottle cork, with its rusty ring bolt, but Capt. Kilpack dissuaded me, saying “The old stopper may be rusty, but you always know where it has been”. Monday, 13th August 1945 For my first session I introduced myself and steered the discussion to the subject of “The Newspapers,” which was at that time the only medium of information. The general opinion was that the press was political – The Times, for example, was Tory. This had been near to the truth for about ten years, because that organ was dedicated to giving the world the government opinion, and we had had an all party, or Nationalist, Tory dominated, coalition for many years. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Monday, 14th August 1944
Off we went, past the newly captured Mont PINÇON over the Odon and the Orne, to another wheat field. This one had much wider and untidier stooks, which aroused my curiosity. Taking a comrade with me, I went off to examine the nearest stook. On the side away from the gate, the stalks were separated enough for a man to pass through, doubled. Inside, there was a slit trench with an unmistakeable whiff. This was unoccupied, of course, but had other traces of past occupation, including a kidney shaped can, containing a sloppy off-white food mixture. The smell of real cooking told us it was time to return. After the meal, a small group, apparently a family of refugees, stopped by to ask, “Avez vous des conserves pour nous?” I translated and Angus shook his head, sadly, but firmly. Tuesday, 14th August 1945 I could now listen to the Forces Programme of the B.B.C. and reacquaint myself with the antics of Tommy Handley in ITMA (It’s That Man Again). Vera Lynne had left Ambrose’s Orchestra and was very much the star in her own programme. Big orchestras were now becoming scarce, being replaced by smaller bands like Oscar Rabin, who had a cute little girl as a vocalist. Her name was Petula (“Pet”) Clarke. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Tuesday, 15th August 1944
----------------------------------------We moved on to another anonymous field, recently vacated by enemy troops. The same smell hung over the slit trenches, but either it dissipated or we became accustomed to it, as the day wore on. In more or less the same way, we recalled, new recruits find their uniforms not only stiff but also smelly because of the anti-gas chemicals impregnating them, but this seems to wear off, or we become used to it. I found a copy of the German army newsletter, entitled “Die Wermacht” and an allied flyer entitled “Behr: Behandlung deutcher Kriegsgefangener”. These are now in my scrapbook Wednesday, 15th August 1945 HQ 3rd (Br.) Div. had leased a local theatre in Ghent for two or three days to put on a show for the whole of the division. There was nothing memorable about the show. We did appreciate it, as stage shows were pretty rare; not as rare as bananas, however - none of us had seen one for five years, but now one performer walked onstage and took one out of his handkerchief pocket, unzipped it, took a bite and zipped it up again, putting it back in the same pocket apparently untouched. We had been expecting an explanation of our presence here in Belgium, and now it came. A senior member of the Div., (probably the Forward Observation Officer who, having no other function, was now the P.R.O.,) gave us full details of a cancelled strategic plan. Together with a Canadian Division and an Australian one, we would have formed the British Empire Corps of the Allied army of invasion of Japan. What was the rest of Plan B? He did not reveal that, but I learnt later, from another source, that they had scheduled troop planes to the Far East. [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Aug 15, 2008 8:29:21 AM] |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Wednesday, 16th August 1944
Farmer and I were now off to join Dr. Makin in the Royals R.A.P. This was in a vacant house, on the ground floor. At meal times, the regimental piper, in kilt and full ceremonial dress, played “Polly, put the kettle on”, or something that sounded like that. The RAP did not need the reinforcement that our presence provided but the same held true for the field ambulance. Everyone was in good health and spirit; there was no sign of any enemy shelling or other missile for us to dodge; no sniping or other need to dig in. Everyone walked around with unaccustomed ease, singing or whistling Scottish ballads or whatever was new during the last spell of leave, six months or more back. The sun was shining, and warming. We had a happy battalion. Thursday, 17th August 1944 If it had not been for the flies buzzing around the latrines (which were near the house) this would have been a pleasant spot. The latrines were not up to standard, but, here in the house, everything was clean and friendly. R.M.O.s always made us feel welcome, like a part of the unit and Dr. Makin was one of the best. Friday, 18th August 1944 We now returned to B Coy., which was in a field somewhere east of Caen, still in Normandy, but only just. The atmosphere was hot, close and sweaty. I was feeling somewhat weak and queasy. Was this due to the hot weather or could it be the result of too much of that delicious, salty, Scottish porridge? Saturday, 19th August 1944 I rose before dawn. I could not wait for the completion of the latrines, so made a little one of my own. Later I needed the latrines urgently. They were now complete, but fully occupied, so the other men urged me to use the officers’, which I did. Mr. Coe turned up, looking very embarrassed, but had not long to wait. I went off to help Farmer load the 15 cwt. for the next move. When we got to the small medical pannier, I opened it, hoping to use the clinical thermometer, as I was feeling flushed. Farmer took one look at me, saying, “close it, you’re going sick”, and accompanied me to Dr. Kilpack. Dvr. Fairbanks had already reported sick with the same condition and Dvr. Dorfman took us two back to C.C.S. (Casualty Clearing Station). Sunday, 20th August 1944 I received a dose of Magnesium Trisilicate, which was the only treatment for gastric disorders there, and went off in a truck to Field Hospital for 24 hours bed rest, fluids and starvation. The latest treatment for dysentery was Sulphasuccidine or Sulphathalidine, but I did not receive either of these. Presumably they were in short supply and were only used for severe, or confirmed bacterial, cases, and I had had no bacteriological or other investigation, as far as I could tell. Whatever the reason, I was lucky not to be getting these advanced forms of treatment, as they tended to cause blood dyscrasias. Monday, 21st August 1944 What is memorable about 24 hours’ starvation? Soldiers in the know, like generals and MOs were probably getting those primitive “antibiotics”, which were poisoning their bone marrow, while the common soldier was recovering on a starvation diet. The same would be happening in Britain in years to come. NHS patients would be dying of blood dyscrasias, while Africans would recover on glucose saline drinks. Tuesday, 22nd August 1944. I, pronounced cured, moved to the convalescent ward, where I received a small, brown correspondence card with spaces for my name, rank and number and a few, well chosen, short sentences to describe all possible reasons for not writing (but the real reason was to save the field censor’s time), and instructions to delete what does not apply. The next move was to an R.H.U. (Reinforcement Holding Unit) to await transport. Wednesday, 23rd August 1944. I arrived at RHU and awaited transport. The RHU had no transport of its own. All other logistics were required for “The Great Swan”- no, not a Chinese calendar term, but the rapid advance across northern France. “Swanning” was an unofficial term for making rapid, curved inroads into enemy held territory. Ambulances full of casualties had ceased arriving, and the only way forward was by hitch-hiking. Thursday, 24th August 1944. …and I waited, while de Gaulle and his forces entered Paris, and they took the Left Bank, with the aid of the Communist Resistance. Meanwhile, there were no logistics, and generals were blaming one another for the deficiency. Eventually they would all agree to blame General George “Blood and guts” Patton. They say he received this nom de guerre when talking about the Salerno and Anzio landings; “There was Jerry, all blood and guts, and me without a spoon”. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Friday, 25th August 1944.
…and I waited, while French forces, with American backing, were taking the rest of Paris. On 25 August the 43rd Wessex Division forced the crossing of the Seine at Vernon. This allowed Brian Horrocks, commanding 30 Corps, to assemble an armoured striking force on the east bank for a massive surge north east to Brussels and Antwerp. I was lucky not to be a senior officer. They were succumbing to blood dyscrasias, caused by these new sulphonamides, while the other ranks were recovering nicely on a diet of sterilised water. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Saturday, 26th August 1944
…and I waited, while in Paris, French and American troops were marching in for the Victory Parade. People were dancing in the streets and small bands were quickly learning to play the old swing and dance music. More serious events were taking place, too. Collaborators were in fear of the Nationalist and Communist resistance movements, who were even denouncing each others' members. Some apparent collaborators had been reporting German movements and plans to Col. Buckmaster of SOE. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Sunday, 27th August 1944
----------------------------------------I, returning from my spell in hospital, was hitch-hiking across the north in a DUKW, (pronounced “duck” and meaning Dual-drive, Utility, All wheel drive, six Wheeler) left over from the landings and not the best vehicle/vessel for logistic work on land. Thumbing seemed to be the only way for personnel left behind to return to their units, as the Yanks had all the logistics for their mad dash to the Rhine. The vessel/vehicle was the height of a 'bus, and I was level with the upstairs windows of the houses, from one of which a female voice called "Q'est-ce que c'est que ca?" I replied, "C’est une Canne; elle marche et elle nage". I was looking forward to crossing the Seine in a "duck", but failed to achieve that experience, as the driver/helmsman had spotted the formation sign of A Company by a chateau on the south bank. The transport problems had left the company with short rations, which they had managed to eke out by lobbing a grenade or two into the river and netting the stunned fish. We did have a rather comfortable billet, as the chateau was the property of M. Renault, a prominent French motor manufacturer. [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Aug 27, 2008 8:54:35 AM] |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Monday, 28th August 1944
The Elbeuf pontoon bridge was now available, so A Coy now proceeded across the Seine to a new location, dropping me at B Coy's location - a schoolhouse - in passing. It was Capt. Kilpack's policy to send any returning personnel forward to one of the R.A.P’s. I went on to the Royal Scots' R.A.P. They now had a new R.M.O., Captain Hooper, as Captain Makin had gone back with the same condition as I had had. It looked as if all the regular members of the R.A.P. had left, presumably with the same infection, as I did not recognise any of them. There was no sign of enemy artillery, so we no longer said, as we did in Normandy "We believe in luck, in God we trust, but the Hun still fires at a cloud of dust", so it was now hell for leather and "Belgium, here we come". |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Tuesday, 29th August 1944
On this day, 11th Armoured Division was leading 21 Army Group in the “Great Swan” to Brussels. The coast roads were for the Canadian and Polish forces and the main roads to, round and from Paris were in the area allocated to French and American forces, so we had to use local roads. Our battalion was close behind the tanks, and tanks were slower than infantry are, so we could afford to stop for sleep and meals. What our armoured support did at mid-day, when our piper plays "Polly put the kettle on" I could only guess. In the absence of logistic support, we had left behind 1. Artillery - except for one Bofors gun. 2. Signals - except for one HF radio coaxial cable which could carry 90 separate conversations at a time. 3. Ordnance - so we had no spare ammo. 4. NAAFI - so we had no news, foot powder, stationery, “Mars” bars, cakes, sweet biscuits or other comforts, and only the sweets and cigarettes in our daily rations. For me this meant no pipe tobacco and I now handed my cigarettes round to my comrades, who had already smoked all they had, so the children we passed, who kept calling, "Cigarettes pour Papa" were disappointed not to have that sneaky smoke they were looking forward to. It also meant that none of us could buy fountain pen ink for writing home - cartridge pens did not yet exist and only divers and “frogmen” had Biros. My favourite ink was “Quink”, a portmanteau word for “quick ink”. It dried quickly, did not clog the nib and had a pleasant smell. 5. Mobile bath unit - so it was now a little more difficult to recognise a German’s recent presence by his smell. 6. R.A.M.C. - So I could not go back to 194 Field Ambulance, even if I wanted to and the Regimental Aid Post had to carry its own sick and casualties (luckily few and minor) along. I now had only a little Quink left in the bottle, so it was fortunate that we stopped for the night in another schoolhouse, where there was some ink to spare. This was red ink, but mixed quite well with Quink acquiring a sort of rose-pink magenta colour, so from now on I wrote my letters home in "the pink ink with the Quink stink". |
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