Friday, February 25, 2005

A New Life in Berlin & Hamburg. (part 10)

Berlin was built to impress and despite the fact that half the buildings were demolished on a massive scale there was still much in the very wide thoroughfares and open spaces that was to exhilarate me for the rest of my army service.

It was only just a year since the conquest by the soviet army and the population were rapidly trying to get back to normal so that with allied cooperation and supplies most of the main services were operating already including local transport and underground and entertainment.

I suddenly felt transformed into a more civilised world as I arrived in a tree lined cul da sac of houses that could have been one of our better UK council estates. There was no unnecessary red tape as I was ushered into a front room that passed for the COs office at 56 Graves Concentration Unit after having been given a meal that was more like eating at home. Before me stood two officers both of whom looked different to the usual types and I sensed that I had made a good move by volunteering to come here.

However I had little idea of what was ahead in terms of duties and I was just pleased to be in such a relaxed atmosphere.

There were several others with me from all over Germany and I don't think they realised either in their youth that they had elected to be part of a team that many would not want to be a part of.

It was that sense of boyish adventure and a change of scenery that really kept us happy, not an awareness that upon our shoulders would be the responsibility of giving peace of mind to many families at home.

Major A J E Lange Royal Tank Regt stood all of 5 foot 3 inches and was earlier from North Africa where being so small in a tank was a distinct advantage. He was soft of speech and educated with his printing firm background and a gentleman's home in Surrey and I at once felt I was more in the company of an uncle, rather than with a commanding officer. His 2nd in command Capt L C Fitzgerald Royal Irish Fusiliers was just as old and just as civilized and also spoke to me as if if I was a normal human being and not just a sapper under command to do a bit of dirty work. Both were in their 50s and this made them command respect from a mere lad like myself without all the military carry on.

The first thing you noticed was the number of sergeants and NCOs to the small total of about 50 souls in all who came from every branch of the service and every part of the UK.

There Highlanders, Paddies, Taffys, Cockneys etc. all from different regiments and kinds of units blended together as a team to do a special kind of work. There were few units like it in the services.

The cook was a real chef called Lazeretti from South Wales clearly with Italian blood in his veins and to crown it all after years of sleeping on floors and worse, here I was with a room of my own with hot and cold running water and a proper bath to hand and there were not too many of them in Berlin at that time.

To my surprise I was quickly promoted to corporal and given charge of some of the office work and specially the map room which was a real thrill because geography had always been one of my top subjects, This excluded me from the outside activities and the military cemetery for several weeks in May and June, instead of which I was helping to plan the journeys for others going all over eastern Europe looking for the fallen RAF.

The weather was so kind at that time and it seemed impossible to believe of all the carnage that had gone on here just over a year previous, but for the fact that a few rusting knocked out tanks still lay around spoiling the beauty of the forest of the Grunwald that lay all around us down to the Havel See.

Can you imagine what it would have felt like if you ever had had a free pass to go around London and London Transport and to enjoy all its entertainment, bars, cafes free of charge. To travel all around on the Berlin transport system without ever having to pay and to be able to buy almost anything with your cigarette ration which was worth many times more than your actual pay was just amazing. Well in fact it felt even much better than that because it was as if Berlin was trying to make up to us a little for the complete breakdown of our normal lives.

In actual fact one didn't need to spend much money at all because of the cheap facilities at the services clubs as well.

Then came a complete surprise as I was moved with a small detachment in July to a large country house next to a small lake at Ohlsdorf on the outskirts of Hamburg, a city I never thought to see. We were to support similar work here for couple of months where a large civilian cemetery here also enclosed one of ours.

The fallen from the RAF were brought in from outlying areas where they had been exhumed and it was my job to try and identify many of them. I wondered how I would feel the first time round, but it was OK. The next time you explored a corpse it was easier and it all felt so unreal and you felt sort of detached.

There were no real faces to be looked at as they had been in the ground too long and all I could say to myself was "There but for the grace of God go I".

But for these guys I would be living in slavery or dead. In the evenings I had to catalogue all the belongings I had found and I strung up all the money that they had carried to dry it out pretending I was a millionaire. It gave me a warped sense of satisfaction. Then we would all jump into a truck and explore Hamburg at night and feel human again except for one of the drivers who caused a real bother.

He had got himself really blotto and was supposed to drive us back.

Although only a corporal and with no experience of these matters I had to order him into the back of his truck and get someone else to drive else I would have called the military police.

When we got back he attacked me and pushed me into the large plate glass door at the front of the house. I fell and my hand went through the glass with a bad cut on my wrist and a medical officer had to be called. He told me I was very lucky it had not cut into my main vein for I could have bled to death.

The driver would have to go on a charge but in the morning he made such an emotional apology that I let him off with a severe caution myself, thankful once again to be alive and I didn't report him in the end. He was one of the chaps who had already been posted to the unit, as a sort of punishment for bad behaviour in the past in the hope that contact with the casualties of war would make him pull himself together! It had the reverse effect and he was soon sent on his way. My dear father never drank even when he was very low and for that I am truly grateful.

I will never forget him as it gave me a scar on my wrist that can be seen today and I jokingly still refer to it as my only war wound.

A few days later I was standing by a graveside and had an uplifting experience.

I turned round startled when I heard a female voice as this was no place for a woman in those days to my mind. It was a lady from New Zealand working for their press and she was on a assignment reporting on one of their heros who had been shot down .

We found him because he had the NZ next to his wings.

I should mention that most of the time we knew who we were looking for based on careful reports sent to us from RAF intelligence and I always had an airforce officer by my side to help me with all their insignia.

Quite often I took myself into what was left of Hamburg by walking to the local station and catching the electric train which just went through one station after another without stopping because there was simply not a building left intact.

My generation had grown used to such devastation but even then it was a spooky experience.

I had won a camera in an army raffle and it made me feel very happy and my old pal Billy Ward had managed to get over as he was still in this part of Germany and we had a good laugh. He had been very keen on dancing before the army and we chuckled about the way he had tried to get me to dance in the boat house back at 508 Coy. It was just as well that no one saw us and got the wrong impression and I did actually learn a few steps.

Coming back one night I had to pass through this vast cemetery late at night and I found the high gate on our side was locked up so I had to struggle over it in the darkness trying not to spear myself on the spikes 8 foot up and with visions of having to spend the night in the wrong company.

During this spell we had a Sunday trip to the sandy beaches of the Baltic resort of Travemunde which was very relaxing in glorious weather playing with local children and we were also joined by some British army girls which seemed quite strange at the time.

This was because I had just decided not to keep the same loyal girlfriend at home any more after 4 years, as the fraternisation ban had just been lifted in Germany and there were too many temptations all around me and life seemed too uncertain.

Typical of the man Major Lange came with us to Travemunde twice and looked such a mere slip of a man in his swimming trunks but always with a smile on his face.

We were not an army unit as such but just a team doing a job.

10 day privilege leaves popped up every 4 months or so and as my spell in Hamburg came to an end I went on a very welcome one, the first time as an NCO.

This article is repeated from http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-10.htm. The next chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-11.htm and the previous chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-9.htm

All the Best

Robin

Monday, February 14, 2005

Occupation Forces. (part 9)

Only a few days after the war's end 508 company was moved to a static location into the centre of the narrow arm of Germany that leads to the border with Denmark called Schleswig Holstein. We occupied huts along the side of the Einfelder See which is a large lake a few miles north of Neumunster on the main road to the German port of Kiel. This area was relaxed and picturesque being full of lakes and downland but it was a bit of an exaggeration to find on the map it was known as "Little Switzerland" .

The main road was in good shape and was entirely cobbled with a high camber which made it tricky to both march along and drive .

I knew it was no good thinking about getting out as soon as it was all over as there were so many millions due for release who had suffered from the war much longer than I but I used to get depressed at times at thinking how I was going to start my real life.

But for a rather nasty Sgt Major who was keen to make barrack square soldiers of us again the village of Einfeld could have seemed no worse than a rather rigorous holiday camp.

Here we were to stay for a very long time with myself being the youngest at still only 19 and a half. Little did I know that in fact my army service was going to extend itself for another two and a half years , longer than I had just served to date and it had seemed a long-time at that early stage of ones life already. Of course there were people all around me who had served far, far longer and the situation was slightly relieved that I was going home on 10 days leave in July.

So many people had kept in touch with me for the past 10 months that I had been overseas that I had much to look forward to. My humble sappers pay of 21 shillings weekly (105 pence today!) had swollen my savings to the princely sum of £60 and I stood to attention on the quayside at the Hook of Holland to receive it in amazement.

I had never held more than a couple of pounds in my hand before and notes as thick as they were made then made a real wad. I bought a brand new Raleigh cycle for £12 so I could get round my friends and proudly put the rest in the local village post office at Eddington by my home just outside Herne Bay.

Once back again I felt pretty useless and the spit and polish seemed a pain and I did my best to keep out of trouble.There were still very few southerners in the unit but luckily there was my old friend Billy Ward and another from Canterbury called Eric Dixon and another older chap from Bromley called Willy Whitehead who at about 40 was like a positive grandfather to me. The worst chore to be detailed on morning parade was to clean and look after the huts themselves mainly due to the boredom. You were expected to go right up on the rafters and dust them down as well just like we used to have to do at Chatham.

There were no bunks as we slept on the bare wooden floors with mattresses with our weapons by our sides and the buildings were much the same as many in the UK and probably occupied by enemy forces shortly before we took over. One day the Sgt Major picked on me and said there was dead meat around those windows by which he meant there were still a couple of dead spiders. It will always stick in my mind because unbeknown to us at the time he was currently involved in a far worse crime and among other things he was later caught selling army supplies to the German black market.

He went missing and search parties including myself were hunting for him all around for hours. There were plenty of nasty characters around still on the run who could have done him in. I can't really say why but when he was found hanging from a tree in a nearby wood I was not all that surprised nor sorry. After all 1000s of starving people all around were dying daily in displaced persons camps for no fault of their own.

One of the other duties was infact to keep an eye on such a camp to prevent any riots or disorders if possible. We quite often went by truck to some shattered railway sheds that passed for shelter for near corpses and again there was nothing really intelligent to do so we played with the derelict locomotives on the bombed out railway lines and pretended we were going on crack expresses. I don't think I ever understood why continental steam engines had to have twice as many pipes around them as ours at home and look untidy at the best of times. They compared very badly to my own favourite King Arthur class that plied from London to Ramsgate and Dover.

On afternoon pass Billy Ward and I would go to the local town of Neumunster and browse around what was our first experience of a local town. It was just wonderful to be on the loose for a while although there was very little to do and very few people to be seen due to the extensive British bombing. You didn't really say anything to locals at that stage as no fraternisation ruled for the foreseeable future. Every now and again we had to clamber over piles of rubble to get down a street and we would have a quiet giggle to each other and say "We will have to report this mess to the Burgermeister" .

It was a very fine summer and the atmosphere by the lake became a bit more relaxed when we were off duty. Within the compound we had a boat house and a small pier with canoes and these we took out frequently exploring all around the lakeside which was vast and at least a mile across and many more around, with lots of inlets and bulrushes.

Those who took the risk of fraternising with girls from the local farm buildings had every opportunity to do so. I was a non swimmer really and in retrospect can't believe I took such a risk on the water but it was usually like a millpond and you felt quite snug on your own as the canoes were well made. I only once went straight across and stuck near the sides and you could hardly feel scared when you had had so much wet bridging training behind you on the river Medway and elsewhere. In addition to that I had done quite a bit of rowing on the sea at home and on local Kent rivers with my girlfriend, not to mention with my mother on the Serpentine in London.

It came as quite a shock then when we suddenly heard that my favourite Sgt Olgivie had fallen out of a canoe and been drowned. Those that knew him better told me that a few years later his sister was killed in a car crash and it was hard to believe that so much tragedy could strike one family without the help of the war.

There was welcome relief from the waste of time when educational classes were started and though it was mainly about current affairs and not linked to any qualifications, it was quite enjoyable. Not so good was the fact that I got a very sore face through shaving in cold water and my mother used to send me cream to put on my roar face. It was not well shaven one morning and I should have reported sick with it but instead I got on my 2nd charge of my service and landed up with a week of potato peeling and being confined to barracks for a week.

All our equipment and transport lay nearby in a big parking area and so it was very necessary to have a very alert guard at night two hours on and four hours off. As the winter came on they were a real pain of course and the quarter hours used to ring out far too slowly from the local village clock as we stood out there on the main road. No civilian traffic came by at night but every evening about 11 the small cycle light of a musician returning home from the local public house in the village used to approach and every time I had to challenge him just as if I had never seen him before. There was still a notice in German ironically from the old days telling everyone not to stop by the barracks and we were telling them just the opposite!. I still have a photo of that entrance reminding me of many dragging hours and cold nights.

Winter 1945/46 was severe and even though this was the mildest area of Germany being near the sea on two sides it was even harder than the previous bad one in the UK 1939/40. The entire lake was frozen solid for two months and it was quite safe to drive a truck on it as far as the eye could sse. The snow was always there but not all that deep so it didn't become a problem but the temperatures did. Truck drivers had to run their engines at least twice in the night to prevent them from being unable to start in the day although nothing like it had been necessary in the war.
I got hold of a pair of ice skates and kept myself amused and exercised for hours at a stretch. I also had a old box camera which took some good pictures still going strong today. We didn't go far at night from the big stoves in the huts. There were no cinemas or anything like that in this rural area. Someone noticed that I could put two and two together and I was lucky to find I had a new job when the stores office was expanded. There were two local girls and our corporal clerk Cpl Freak and an older German man who used to go on about how we should be fighting the Russians like so many did and how he went on such long walks every Sunday. I would have given anything to know what he had done in the war and he struck me as a typical ex Nazi.

One of the girls was quite the opposite and only about my age, and as she was my first contact with a local female and pleasant at that I always remember her name as Anneliese Hahn. She unexpectedly asked us both home to tea with her mother and I have to say so soon after the wars end I felt a touch guilty sitting there with the ban still on and with my long term girl friend at home who had lost a brother in the RAF. It was remarkable that the army took on German employees so soon and of course they were jobs much sort after in the days when hardly anybody had anything.
I actually wrote to her several times afterwards as she reminded me that this country still surprisingly had a future. It was amusing though to realise that the translation of the name Hahn was Cockerel. I had another 10 days leave to the UK in February 46 to remind me that all those loving friends and family really still existed and that sometime in the future another world awaited me now that I was 20. Demob had already begun for many but I didn't allow myself the luxury of looking forward to it yet. I only tried to find ways of sorting out my frustration.

We did have some laughs but not enough to make you feel you were living a worthwhile life. A typical incident that I will never forget was the time a rather lazy member of our section failed to get up smartly one morning even though reveille was now as late as 7am.

Two ncos transported him mattress and all outside and down to the end of the jetty from where he had to walk back in the freezing cold amid the laughter of the rest of us.

One day next May 1946 after a year in Einfeld I saw my chance when volunteers were advertised for to help a special unit in Berlin deal with the casualties of war. All I could see before me that mattered was the chance to go to the one place that symbolised the final goal whether you were British or Russian or whatever and the big change in my existence that would entail. I went on a special course involving basic educational tests and it was a great feeling to know that even though my education had effectively finished when I was only 15, I could still figure it out enough to get through.

I left behind some good friends at 508, the unit I had served with since Oct 1944 in the mud of Holland and which seemed a whole world away.

Robin Brown the tourist took over again as I joined the train to go through the Soviet occupied territory to Berlin. I knew no one where I was going but I knew that life was going to be far more interesting from now on and I would have a lot to tell the folks at home when I could sit by my favourite fireside again and toast my crumpets.


This article is repeated from http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-9.htm. The next chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-10.htm and the previous chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-8.htm

All the Best

Robin

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

The Final Conquest. (Part 8)

508 Field Park Company was not one of those army units that could just pile into a column of tanks or trucks at a moments notice and be off.We kept and maintained much equipment used by all kinds of other royal engineer units, specially those dealing with bridging and road clearance and were always a few miles behind the action. I was very grateful that so far I had never been in as much danger as those sappers for instance who had to clear the minefields right up front or build bridges over canals and rivers to allow the main battle groups to advance.

Although the enemy had been only about 20 miles away all through the winter he was now almost completely thrown back behind the river Maas which formed the boundary of the 3rd Reich and there was only one time I felt in real danger, although no more so than many incidents I saw as a young boy in Kent which became known as "Hell fire corner". This was when I was out in an open field near Deaurne and I got noticed by a single unusual enemy aircraft. One of the few jets that had just come out, it swooped down to pepper us all with its guns and I was just lucky to rush behind a small brick fodder building to relative safety.Then it turned and came back the other way and so I tore round the other side and I laid low for quite sometime. Fortunately for us the luftwaffe had very little fuel, and although the allies had not made any jets it didn't matter as the enemy had too few to make an impact.

Because we had to carry so much equipment in the form of road making and clearing vehicles the main stay of a field park company was its large 5 ton Canadian Mack trucks towing large trailers. Onto these every thing had to be driven, using ramps up the back and before doing this the trailers had to be jacked down to a lower level. This was a very physical task and required two strong lads on each side and in the course of loading and unloading many times my stomach muscles grew a lot. When my tractor was loaded I would actually sit up on top of it and no one seemed to care that it was high enough up there to bring down a few telephone wires.

Our drivers were very skilled to my mind that they could take such wide heavily laden vehicles over the bailey bridges with only inches to spare on either side. One of them had won the military medal earlier in the campaign in France by pushing a mine off a bridge with his front blade without setting it off. His name was Arthur Brown the exact name of my father and he was a good mate. Another good mate at least 15 years older than myself was Freddie Slack a tractor guy from the potteries.
Now was the moment we had waited 5 years for as we drew away towards the border 20 miles away. About 25 miles further north in swampy forest land around Goch the entry into Germany was very bloody right into March but the defence could not hold due to the lack of strength of the weakened opposition at many other points.

Let us not forget that but for the nazi struggle against even larger soviet forces entering Germany on the eastern side, we would have been lucky to have advanced out of Normandy at this time let alone be finishing the war.

So began another long journey full of apprehension and excitement at what we would find over the border. For the next 2 months we were never static just living out of the trucks and averaging about 5 or 6 mile daily and sometimes, maybe 20 miles if we had stayed put somewhere on Sunday.
The way had been made easy for us at first and we soon slipped through Venlo over the Maas river into Germany. Geldern was the first halt and then we soon went on to Wesel and onto a massive bailey bridge over the Rhine river built by one of our bridging units a few days before under fire with the amphibious assault going in all around them. It had not only been dangerous but those guys would have puffed their hearts out carrying those panels which require 6 sappers, 3 on each side to move, not to mention the skill of holding the pontoons in place against the current. The Rhine in flood at that point is a formidable sight but just for a moment thanks to the sweat and blood of others I could sit up on my tractor and ride across and admire the view.

Wesel was deserted and we stayed for the night with my first confrontation with the remains of a local house.

We had not yet caught up with a field kitchen and had to make do with pack rations and our portable petrol stove to brew up. In some ways it was superior because of all the tins of fruit and bacon and plum pudding and also spam and bully beef. Devastation lay around us as far as the eye could see and one wondered if anyone locally had survived and this house was one of the few that was shattered but not down. There was no clear space on the floor covered with plaster and rubbish so I managed to bag the top of the grand piano for a little rest. It was marginally better than sleeping in the truck on top of the jerry cans full of diesel fuel. Everyone laughed when I turned over as I struck a big base note.

For every fighting soldier there were at least two more handling all the backup and support. We didn't know at that time but we had 350 miles to go to the Baltic coast and many many jobs to do in support of the British 2nd army over the next two months. We still had regular baths and meals and medical checks and post and change of clothing and I was even told to go to the dentist one day to be told I had very good teeth.

I would like to have my 19 year old teeth today as only 3 have survived!!

One day my army glasses fell out of my pocket onto the road behind and the next truck ran over them. As a result I had my eyes tested and was highly pleased to be told I didn't need any more. They had been to correct a squint but you only need one eye to fire a rifle anyway!

After we left Wesel there were no more houses safe to go in and we decided to stay in the trucks and stay in the country as much as possible.

My section were just having breakfast on the verge of the road watching streams of others go by, and as I noticed a staff car or two approaching I bit off a large piece of sausage before I would have to stand up and salute. We had all seen so many pictures of General Montgomery in the past that I froze when I realised who it was at once. There was Winston Churchill with him in the open car determined to be in at the kill of Germany and Monty was showing him around where the main advance had been. Monty was renowned for his care about the moral and welfare of his troops and specially for keeping casualties down to a minimum.General Mongomery stopped the car and waving a newspaper asked me if I would like one and told me in a friendly manner we were all doing a great job. I couldn't believe what had happened but this man although hated by other generals for his cocksure behaviour was a hero to us lads. He could have been knocked out by a shell just as easily as myself at that time.

Despite the stop start progress that now added up to about 50 miles into Germany there were pockets of resistance that the main army and paratroops had simply bypassed on our flanks. These were still firing powerful 88mm shells at us at random not knowing they were beaten.
We had stopped for a tea break in the small town of Coesfeld and I was just walking back with a mugful when one acted automatically. It had that certain whine about it that sounded ominous and I threw myself down against the side of my tractor and lost my tea and the shell hit a building on the other side about 50 yards away. I was lucky that even the shrapnel missed both my vehicle and me by a few yards.

There were quite a few who died within weeks of the wars end after having survived much more than I and I always thought was as unlucky as you can getWe carried on day after day wondering where the civilians were and if any were left and hadn't fully realised that there were some down in the cellars . Although most of the houses were badly damaged the cellars had survived much of the time so unlike what it would have been at home.

The most interesting thing for me was when buildings were still standing in a very dangerous condition, two of us with our armoured bulldozers would get one each side with a thick wire rope in between. We would both rev up and bring the whole lot down between us like a couple of kids .
The hard bit was if you felt you had to go inside and see if anyone was still alive first of all. Suddenly I was up front and saw this bundle on a bed under the covers. Was it dead or was it alive and going to jump out at us. Ready to fire I gave it a kick and happily he was dead.

It was nice to park out in the countryside again for a spell and in the early peaceful Spring morning with a mist lying around it was hard to realise that here in the sleepy farmhouses were members of the so called super race that had declared they were to be masters of most of the world. Some one said it would be nice to get some real eggs for breakfast and I volunteered to find some as I didn't reckon the hens would consider themselves any different to British hens.

The inmates were clearly peering at us through the curtains and were already finding out that the British did not plunder and rape like the soviets or indeed as they had done themselves invading other countries.

We had a mighty fine breakfast that morning and others too and although we were not allowed to fraternize with civilians until a year after the war there was an understanding between us that we all had to try and move ahead in most cases.We did have some rough elements in our unit as anywhere and the worst I got to know about was when a sapper wanted to relieve a lady of a ring and threatened to cut her finger off if she didn't give it to him.

However others interrupted and he was dealt with. Of all the occupying forces the British did set a good example most of the time, and at that time I was very proud to be who I was however small my contribution.

One more misty morning we found ourselves on the banks of the river Weser near Minden and we could not see the opposite bank but we could hear German voices. Even though the war only had a month to run we didn't know that and whether or not they would be hostile so not wishing for trouble we withdrew and didn't wait to find out.

Lives did not need to be wasted.

And so we went on sweeping up the debris of war with our circus of equipment and wondering what the next day would unfold.

508 company trod through areas so familiar to generations of future Rhine army such as Munster, Osnabruck. Minden, Hannover, Celle, Luneburg and Lubeck. Had any of the current youth of our country been able to join us they would have been stunned at what was achieved without the need for computers although later on as a clerk in the army myself I have to admit some of those army forms were baffling.

Lubeck still had a charm despite bombing, and as I sat with my old pal Billy Ward on a seat over looking the long sandy beach not far away I could not believe what I had lived through.

It was early May and the peace had just started and there were civilians strolling over the sands as if there had never been a war.

I was to be suddenly reminded what it was all about when I was detailed to go to a field and keep an eye on over 1000 prisoners soon to be processed into peacetime.

You never knew if one or two officers could still be behaving badly and at 19 almost on my own I don't think one rifle would have helped much if they had.Now the big check up was on for the main culprits and I never heard a single German apologise for the war. In the years ahead the nearest anyone would get was "Your royal family was related to ours and we are all very much alike and we should have never been at war". It all sounded like" we can make war with others but Britain was a pity."IN ACTUAL FACT IN 1938 BRITAIN NEEDED A GEORGE BUSH BY ITS SIDE AND WE WOULD HAVE SNUFFED OUT NAZI GERMANY IN TIME TO SAVE MILLIONS but we did our best and I'm proud of that.

This article is repeated from http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-8.htm. The next chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-9.htm and the previous chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-7.htm

All the Best

Robin

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

1944/45 The Last Winter Of The War. (part 7)

It was hard to imagine that all around us in an area little larger than Kent hundreds of thousands of British and Canadian troops were massing for the final assault on Germany itself with a million and more Americans poised for 100 miles to the south.

I never even thought about the enemy unless you thought of the enemy as our NCOs and officers and all the dirty jobs we had to do in foul weather. We felt secure in this new location as everyone had a roof over their head and all our equipment lay in front of us on the waterlogged square. Six weeks earlier Deurne had been still occupied by Germans but now it could go about its daily business.

One thing for sure was the faith the population of this area had in their catholic religion and it was pleasant to see so many people walking past to the local services where no doubt a little prayer was said for us as well.

Some of us joked that you could tell the time by the direction the people were walking to and from the church.

I knew that there were lads even younger than myself out there in the German forces, forced into a tragic start to their lives in circumstances far worse than mine and I prayed for them in an unconventional way.

Aftr a few nights spent on the floor over a terrace of one time shops, life really improved for me when I was sent to live with the family of a small farm round the corner along with a pleasant guy from Manchester who was a couple of years older than I.

Billy Ward and I spent 3 months together up in this other Mr Claasen's hay loft from mid November to mid February and it was the Ritz to us being part of the family and sleeping in the 2 makeshift beds that they had built for us. Bill was a very friendly guy who stayed my friend right to the end of my service and we are still in close touch today. By coincidence his birthday is the same as my eldest sons born in 1949 so I could never forget it.

Every morning at 6.30 Mrs Claasen would give us a shout up the ladder and so we were never late on parade at 8.00.

Bill was a Coles crane driver which was really specialised whereas I could be given any dirty job that the day demanded. The worst was to clean the tracks of the D7 armoured buldozers after their days work clearing the roads up near the front. The best was driving a dumper to and from the railway station bringing in supplies off loaded from a train.

Once I had to work with a road roller and they were not meant for such rough chewed up surfaces full of slime. I skidded into a rut and couldn't get out and nothing would grip and it just got deeper. One of my pals came up behind me with a tractor to nudge me out, only it was more than a nudge.

The bump cracked the sump and I limped back to base which was fortunately not far away with oil pouring out.

Regardless of the circumstances I was given a week up the front with a road grader as my punishment and I had to sleep in a small hut used for drying tobacco leaves. The artillary was firing most of the time thankfully from our side and one night the leaves that were drying on wires over my head couldn't take any more and shook all over me in the night. I woke up almost suffocated in a sweat for it would have been a sad way to die.

It was worse for one us as his tractor came right off the road into a dyke as the sodden road gave way and even with tracks you needed to be very careful not to end up in a muddy grave such was the state of the terrain before it froze in December.

It was good to get back to the farmhouse in the evening and read all the mail and magazines that I received. I would lie on my bunk and see the frost glistening on the inside of the roof and still feel warm.

We didn't have have to sing anymore in the evening to keep our spirits up as we had done in Mill out in the open looking at the stars.Then we could see flares going up all around us on 3 sides and we were always in danger of being cut off as someone would sing "catch a falling star" and other melodies from the "Inkspots"

Above all it was good to be part of a family and to play with the children who all were very polite and shook our hands when they went to bed.

In the rural areas at least standards had not dropped after 4 years of occupation.

In early December I got a wonderful surprise. We were so sure of our position that it was possible to send troops on short leaves to Brussels and to my amazement my name was down to go there over my 19th birthday for 72hrs on the 16th December. The tourist in me took over again and it hardly seemed possible that I was going to be let loose in a capital city in the middle of a war.

I was taken to a large flat in a smart area and such was my lack of experience of the world, I had never seen a security system on a block of flats where you pushed a button and a voice came back way up top.

I was spending 3 nights with a family whose son was in the RAF having escaped and I thought of him doing a real job of work while I was tucked up in his bed.

At that time unbeknown to me Hitler launched his own birthday present for me in the shape of the Ardennes offensive some 200 miles to the south in an effort to turn the war in his favour by cutting through the country with tanks to cut off everyone in Holland and even reach the coast.

It took everyone by surprise and thousands were killed for a bloody 3 weeks but noone disturbed my weekend of window shopping, and all the great meals and entertainment during the time the offensive had started.

I wondered if they would allow the little boy pissing statue in London and much other rudery that I saw. I wondered what the German troops had looked like as they had been told 3 months earlier we were coming to get them. It must have been wonderful to be one of those who liberated Brussels. Most of all I enjoyed that bed and lie ins after 4 months without one.

Getting back with one of our maddest drivers was much more scary than the war as he was showing off and skidded, nearly landing us all in a canal.

The snow came down and it was a hard Winter for the rest of December until early February which made the movement on the roads better with care and perfect for getting over the countryside. I took a tractor out onto the peat marshes with a trailer to bring in the peat for the locals and had lots of fun trying to back it round corners without loosing it.The locals were extremely undernourished by now and had little energy.

The only things I hated, being rather a sensitive lad, was when they had to slaughter a animal on the cobbles at the back of the house and even going to the loo which was open to the herd who stared back at you.

One day a lone man wandered into my arms over the marshes and it was evident he was a German who had taken himself off without being seen and he must have walked at least 10 miles so the only prisoner I took in the whole war myself was not a very heroic venture.The nearest I can describe that area where we were, would be like the fenlands of Cambridgeshire, and because I like woodlands I would not want to live there today, but the people are sincere and honest and I will never forget them.

Saying goodbye later to our hosts was a hard thing to do.


This article is repeated from http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-7.htm. The next chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-8.htm and the previous chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-6.htm

All the Best

Robin


Monday, February 07, 2005

Into Holland! (part 6)

We were all relieved when at last orders came through for many of us to join various units and our bit of the war could begin.

We knew that the enemy had been pushed back far and wide very quickly and we were not expecting to get into any real trouble but we knew nothing of the actual circumstances with "market garden " ourselves. Considering the very heavy fighting that had just taken place to occupy only a small part of Holland it was just as well as we sallied forth in our trucks one dark evening that we were really kept in ignorance of how hard it had been just to the north.

The tree lined straight roads looked sinister in the headlights and I marvelled that the drivers knew where to go.There were lots of little signposts pointing towards one unit or another and the correct one must have been easy to miss. We saw no real faces for mile after mile nor sign of habitation and I begun to realise how scenic our own little island could be even in the south east.

Although it was still only 2 months since I had seen my cosy home I wondered how long it would be before I would see it again. Yet at the same time I thought my tour of Europe was going pretty well as here I was crossing the border into my third country in a matter of a few weeks.

Suddenly we all pulled into a village square and here was the equivalent of a motorway stopover except it was the local school and there were no beds.
Somehow I felt that we were welcome guests in this new country and not just military, as they had already brought out pictures of their royal family that had been hidden away from the occupiers for over 4 years.

I could hear excited children laughing somewhere in the background and we could actually use normal toilets.

You wouldnt think that putting two school desks together to make myself somewhere to sleep would be comfortable but it made me feel great not to be on the ground . It was almost homely and I thought of the children who would sit here not having to listen any longer to nazi lies.

The following morning I crossed to the pump in the playground intending to get a few drops on my face and to my surprise a nun came over and pumped away for me while I managed to get a better wash and so did others.

I saw the name of the village was Beek en Donk and that has always stuck in my mind as the first moment when I realised that my experiences to date were more than just a big adventure.

I found it easier to forget about my lost education as the Dutch people seemed so much more ernest and like our own and made me feel here in the whole world was the most important place to be. Just like liberating part of your own country really except that the real work was being done by my older and more experienced colleagues up ahead of me.

It was a short ride to Mill that morning where I finally was serving with a unit in the field. What an apt name for a dutch village. This was a previous territorial field park company from Newcastle and the powers to be there were far less hospitable than the local population. The geordy accent was totally foreign to me and along with my mate Hedgecock there were hardly any others from the south of England and we were considered to be real softies, which we probably were.

We were all totally under canvass in orchards and as I walked to report in from the vehicle park there was a loud bang. More by bad luck than good management on the part of the enemy the very lorry I had just left behind was now in flames and I realised I had a guardian angel .

Most of my gear went up with it and so it was not a very good start to have to get the quartermaster sergeant to kit me up again. There were rows and rows of mechanical equipment here used to clear up the debris of war and but for the supremacy of the RAF would have been sitting ducks but the odd shell was all that could reach us although the front line was never more than 10 miles away on three sides.

It was terrible weather that October and November with constant rain and hail and to walk anywhere with the waterlogged state of the ground required extreme caution. Someone in our tent was intent on often lighting a small fire at the entrance which nearly choked us all as the smoke came inside and it was necessary at times to lie with your head out of the side under the flap.

There was decking put on the ground in some places but it soon got chewed up and the hardest thing was to carry your full mess tin from the cookhouse without losing everything. It was not easy to keep a rifle in a clean state and to prevent it from being stolen. This was a unit full of tough northern navies and if they had a problem with their weapon they would not hesitate to pinch another. I did in fact have a sleepless night when I lost my belt and I was lucky to get another without being put on a charge.

Many nights were broken by a sudden snap of the wooden apple trays from under one that we adapted to sleep on to keep us from lying on the bare sodden mud. When you lay on one to support you a few inches above the ground it simply did not take your weight more than a couple of nights.

Its amazing how few people ever went sick.

One day I saw a boy Pieter Claasen of about 12 or 13 sitting on a gate waving to me at the end of the field by the road which was lined by a few small houses.
I didn't have a word of Dutch but it was easy to understand that he wanted me to come over and meet his sister who was called Netty and his parents. I had a month of their hospitality in the daytime and we played many card games and gave them a lot of my chocolate. After the war I kept in touch for several years until Pieter himself went into the Dutch army and his mother used to write to me in easy Dutch.

Such friendships sprung up everywhere with the troops and although I lost touch for 50 years, with the help of the internet I have recently found the family again living in another house in the same area and I am planning to have a reunion in the spring of this year. Thanks to them what would have been a miserable rather boring 6 weeks in Mill became something really worthwhile.

In early November part of our unit moved a little further on with me to a larger town called Deaune and life became more active.


This article is repeated from http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-6.htm. The next chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-7.htm and the previous chapter is at http://www.findanoldfriend.co.uk/brief-life-story-5.htm

All the Best

Robin