Sword Beach to Bremen., A Veterans tale. Sapper

One memory of the war North of Caen, was a very bad headache, caused by the constant sound of guns, Not only from our own arty, but from the big battle wagons out at sea. The sound of heavy shell could be heard high overhead. The intensity of the British arty was something to behold…. Another impression; was of the accuracy of their enemies mortar crews. They had done the defence measurements exceedingly well, They knew exactly where we were.

There is one sound that remains with me all the days of my life, and that was the constant drone of the Auster artillery spotter. Constantly flying up and down, non-stop. Always the same monotonous drone……! Comforting was the backing of our arty. They had names foe their Barrages. I cannot recall the names, except that there was one barrage that concentrated everything in a selected area….. and made it “Boil”

There was also a barrage of such powerful intensity, that it was reputed to need government cabinet approval, as the cost was said to affect the National debt,. That was called “Pandemonium” I don’t think it was ever used….

One memory that stood out was the crack of the 88s. For this was a gun that is still talked about by the veterans in awed tones,. Every vet knows about the 88s.. No deviation for wind speed… just aim and fire ….. Very high velocity.

Talking about the RA spotters. One poor pilot was hit by our own shell, and just vanished. I just happened to be watching at the time.

But the one great memory that stood out above all else… was MINES The Enemy had by his long experience of war perfected his mine warfare. Principally the “Teller” antitank. The “Schu” mine. Made of wood and undetectable by mine sweeping That mine was designed not to kill but to maim., The idea was to jam up the enemies fracilit6ies with casualties. Finally the S mines.

The “Teller” was anti tan k and had an anti handling device underneath. The shu entirely made of wood and with the usual German thoroughness, the box was well made. and dovetailed… The effect of the Schu was to blow off one, or both legs. It also had a more dangerous aspect in that you hope and pray that your legs were not open when the thing blew, you were in danger of not being able to father children.

Then the S Mine…. That sat in that ground as metal tube full of steel ball bearings, on setting it off the charge underneath sent the cylinder to about head height, where it then exploded with devastating effect as the steel balls radiated outwards over a wide area. S Mines had several methods of detonation. One of my disappointments was that having reached Caen, and one of the first into the city, we then had to leave to prepare for operation “Goodwood”
More later

 

4 9 11

Now the whole atmosphere of the war in Normandy was to change once again. On the 15th of July the company moved quietly over the Orne, where we were immediately shelled and lost a three tonner. This move was accompanied as soon as we arrived at Heronvillette by avenging swarms of mosquitoes that caused a great deal of damage to the assembled troops.

The operation was also unusual, in that we were briefed on what was to happen.. A rarity! Good God ! they have realised we are here!

It was also different in its ferocity. The assault started with 2000 bombers soaking the ground ahead, with the support of some 750 guns. Here the effect was catastrophic. The path forward was a moonscape with little good ground for the armoured drive that was to hook around Caen. The bombing had the effect of a monstrous traffic jam. So sever, that not even wounded were allowed back…
.
It was also a time when we were pounded from all sides. Harboured in an orchard, the incoming was intense with nebelwerfers, mortar, shelling, and Spandau fire coming from all quarters. What scared me the most, was a barrage of air bursts. For there is no protection from overhead shrapnel. The severity of the incoming fire caused a man to go berserk …running around trying to stab everyone with his Commando knife. He was tackled and tied up. There we experienced the phenomena of “Green rain” as the leaves from the orchard were shredded and rained down by the intensity of the Mc gun fire.

We cleared the routes to the Chateau de Escoville. Touffreville. Sannerville and Bannerville. Our aim was to reach Troarn. We never got there, and even today, that name still has the power to bring feelings of uneasiness. I talked to an old Colonel and mentioned the word Troarn, he immediately snapped “Don’t mention that place “

Several odd incidents, while we waited in our holes for the incoming to abate, our officer was striding about saying “fire back at them men” That was until a lump of shrapnel took half his hand off ..he then joined us in our holes. It was also made worse by some of the lads that captured a nebelwerfer turned it around and fired it back. The reaction was ferocious in the extreme, accompanied by the message “Very good lads. But would you kindly desist from using that blood moaning Minnie“…

It was a time when I knew real dread and fear. In that orchard we were straddled by several nebvekwerfer bombs…. During that onslaught Jock and myself unloaded a three tonner loaded with boxes of explosives and put them in foxholes. And lived to tell the story.. And it RAINED AND RAINED.

I recall Goodwood with genuine fear, specially when we left. Our little convoy of a Bedford, with halftracks and carriers came under heavy fire . When we got back, the mines I had been sitting on in the Bedford, were hit by shrapnel with the yellow explosive running out over the back of the truck…….

The period of that operation was marked with the loss of sleep, we just did not get any…the intensity of the shelling. we had very little time to get our heads down. Bugger Goodwood and Troarn….. And bugger unloading a Bedford full of explosives under heavy fire… Today for that, we would have been invited to the Palace for our bravery award.
Ah ! Once a Sapper always Sapper.
Big Grin...
More later

 

5 9 11

Having now harboured back over the Orne at Benouville. We got the company up to scratch after our Goodwwood drubbing.. A thorough clean up. Surplus explosives and kit disposed of.

Then on August the third, the company moved across Normandy. We left the terrible destruction and the stench of death behind, and moved South of Bayeux.

Again everything about the war changed once more. A great change. Gone the devastation of the Caen front. We even saw girls in summer dresses! We moved on to Caumont……St martin des besaces…….Mont Bertrand. Arriving at Iven. North east of Vire This abutted the American sector. What a difference.. No war, green fields and people.
We prepared for the attack on Vire.

We mine cleared for the 44 tank regiment and on August the 9th we joined the attack on Vire. The Vire vaudrey Ridge was taken without loss….Except for three casualties from mines…. Me and my two mates in the three man clearing team. Well documented previously in this thread. Sufficient to say; I still have a S mine steel ball buried in my skull.

Now deep into the Norman country side. The attack on Vire began. Third Div with 185 and 8th brigade up, advanced on the Vire Tinchebray axis. Alongside the Americans.

What stood out like a sore thumb, was the huge difference in how the Allies tackled the enemy. The Americans seemed to think that saturating an area with shells and bombs would subdue the enemy, They seemed quite surprised when they popped up and fought back. While the British used standard battle practice of move and fire, supported by arty. “A go get them outlook!”

Here I must say the Yanks could not do enough for us. They were a very friendly lot and we got on very well. This was a time when there were a great many odd things happening All documented previously on this thread. Our advance was with the company of the 3rd Recce regiment and the Coldstream Guards.
Now was the time of the dreadful scenes of Falaise. Once again the stench of mass death spread across the Norman countryside….. What a bloody awful mess, men and machines. Panzer commanders still stood up in the tank turret, but burnt black and frozen in that position as the flames overtook them. Bodies…bodies and more bodies. A rolling wall of flame and death had swept through the area leaving behind scenes of devastation akin to a vision of hell… Or worse……..This poem seems to encapsulate the scenes

Onward led the road again.
Through the sad uncoloured plain
Under twilight brooding dim
And along the utmost rim
Wall and rampart risen to sight
Cast a shadow not of night
And beyond them seemed to glow
Bonfires lighted long ago
And my dark conductor broke
Silence at my side and spoke.
Saying “you conjecture well:
Yonder is the gates of Hell”
A E Houseman.

More later…

 

Cheers. This Battle description is brought to an end. Reason? Little interest shown for the amount of time spent on my renowned one fingered typing
Sapper

 

Brian, please don't stop recalling your Normandy memories.

I for one am most grateful that you have taken the time to do this and wait with bated breath for the next installment.

I also appreciate your one fingered efforts, which are a lot better than mine!

 

Brian, Please don`t stop. I`ve not been able to be on much for several months, and this was the first thread I opened - as it always is. You have the ability to describe the places and situations so vividly that it seems that I am seeing, smelling, and feeling what you did 67 years ago.

Re your comment about the name for artillery concentration names : on a single target, "Mike" all the guns of the regiment 24 guns, "Uncle" all the guns of the division 72 guns, or "Victor" all Corps guns within range (150 – 250 guns)

Your entries are always valued. I suspect that many of us don`t add comments as we don`t want to interrupt the feel of what you`ve written with what may appear to be inane remarks compared to the depth and significance of the history you are telling.

 

I check your posts every time I log on, which is usually daily. I don't always feel I have something intelligent to add so I just enjoy reading your experiences. Please continue as you have an amazing ability to remember it how it was and can describe it in great detail. Thank you for the time you put in here.
Krystal

 

OK. I had no idea I had readers. So fine lads and lasses...
6 9 11

Once more the whole war had changed completely.
The cauldron of death and destruction…Falaise. I will leave that behind now. Now we moved to Tinchbray where we got across the stream, 100 Churchill tanks and Sps. The Company then moved to Montsecret and on to Flers, where we set about preparing for an assault crossing of the river Seine, ferrying tanks and storm boat training on the reservoir. Bridges weee built all in preparation of what was to come. At that time, I was busy with explosives settings so that a tree could be brought down exactly where we wanted it.

That was followed by another move. Everything was dismantled, the bridging, the FBE storm boars loaded up for a journey to the Seine. We arrived at Saint Andelys…To a green countryside with the peaceful river meandering War ? What war?

Then under the banks of the Seine, I found something rather odd. Together, two British service graves, two Jewish folk. I don’t know their sex or their age, as it was written in Hebrew language… It did seem very unusual to find two obvious service graves all by their selves under the bank of a river. Not enclosed… I have tried to find out about these graves from the CWG. They could find no trace of those two individuals… very odd.

Our stay at Les Andelys and Vernon were moments when we came back to the reality of civilisation…The summer days alongside the Seine.

This short period of peace was to come to an abrupt end… Sadly Recce were sent out to Brussels. Followed by a move at night of the Third Div in convoy, via Gisors /Arras leaving at 10.45 hours to Brussels. Company arrived at Theilt, where more training for what was to come took place…. for the possible assault crossing of the Rhine.

Then we all enjoyed the life of Brussels for one day and one night. Under the official pretext of “raft training on a lake in Brussels”

My time there is well documented previously on this thread.
Moe later.

 

PS... Although I am known for my bravery!!! On my way to bed last night, on the wall of the stairs was a spider. At first it looked about 6" across but on further inspection, it was about an inch and a quarter. I fled, yelling out to my wife "Sheila! There is a bloody great spider on the wall"

In a blind panic, my elbow crutches were working overtime, I stumbled and hurt myself. Meanwhile Sheila arrived with a chair and a whip like a Lion tamer. and rescued me. She could not reach it, so she got a long cobweb brush and attacked it. It dropped off the wall and the Saintly one chased it down the stairs, thumping away merrily.

Meanwhile I cowered in fright. To be reassured that the monster was dealt with..... accompanied by gales of laughter.
Brave Lass the Saintly Sheila....
Big Grin!

 

I am late coming into your war history but have more or less now caught up - please don't stop.

You really need to publish this in one set\book and I only hope that somewhere it is being preserved for posterity.

 

Here we go then....


7 9 11

Yet again the nature of the war changed, as we journeyed across France and into Belgium. The company had now harboured past Brussels, in a pine tree area. Ready for the next move Northwards. Meanwhile the company recce had been forward to look at an assault crossing of the Escaut canal…. Bugger ! …We are off to war again. Then things began to accelerate and moved fast. We moved North of the village of Peer in readiness.,

The attack was due to start as soon as the equipment arrived. Time was running short for those far to the north of us…. At one in the morning that assault crossing started… on a pitch black night. The battle took on scenes reminiscent of Dante’s inferno….. But worse. The assault boats got across in the face of a determined rearguard from a group of young SS officers. Quite frankly; it was horrific, as the battle was waged in the light of mortar and shelling, and from a house on fire on the enemy bank.

Eventually the infantry were across and spreading out, we then built “in rapid time” an assault bridge across the folding canvas boats, to provide a light crossing, (that would be bridged properly by the follow up Sappers) In the beginning we were bombed, shelled and mortared, with a Spandau firing down the canal. The FBE boats were holed and had to be replaced, A night of great fear with confused fighting. Where we captured the captors of one of our sappers. Where sadly, we again left behind great and heroic Sappers.

A night of flickering flames, of the swirling smoke of cordite and Spandau fire. One of the worst actions that we took part in… The night assault across the Escaut canal. Bloody misery! Never to be forgotten…….

We crossed with the infantry and made our way North, stopping at a Convent at dawn, where at last we had a rest on the cobbled stone entrance . We advanced further with the Recce towards the town of Weert. The advance was held up by the attentions of a well placed 88. With 8th brigade, our habitual home, we advanced along the North side of the Canal towards Weert. Captured the town amongst the Dutch freedom celebrations…..

More later

 

"Freedoms Bells".
Normandy. 6th of June. 1944
Hermanville sur mer Church.
The broken Church Bells rang out on D. Day.
The first joyous Bells of freedom to ring out
in France since the Nazi occupation.

Veterans! Now that we are old and frail.
Our gift of Freedom, still prevails.
On Englands green and pleasant land
No foreign troops have laid their hand
Listen! Hear the Bells of Hermanville?
We who fought there, hear them still.

Across the years, our memories saved.
Of fine young men, who's lives they gave.
No song of lark, there, in darkened sky.
In front of Caen, we all came to die.
In high golden corn, our wounded fell.
Then burned to death, for Freedoms Bell.

Pegasus Bridge, came under fierce attack.
Our friends are dead, No! don't look back.
Listen? Is that the English Bells we hear?
From across the sea, to drown our fear?
For Mother Earth claims those that fall.
With soft Norman earth, to cover all.

For what lay ahead, fear gripped my soul.
For the guns must be paid, a human toll.
Pounded in our Norman orchard here,
While men went mad, and died in fear.
Tell me? is that the call of Freedoms Bell?
Or is it the harsh strident chimes of Hell?

Time will not heal, the wounds of soul.
Nor still the Bells of Freedoms toll.
For young men that died, are waiting yet.
Across the years, their hands outstretch.
"Forget me not, just speak my name.
And call me back, from where I've lain".

For Freedoms grace, is valiant won.
Fought for, by Brothers, Fathers, Son.
Unfurl the flag, that they died to save.
Then fly it high, and recall the brave.
Now Freedoms Bells, are muted, still.
Our hopes and dreams are not fulfilled.

On darkened, late, Mid-summers night.
With restless dreams, before dawns light.
Familiar faces gather, call my name.
Come! for Freedoms Bell, lets fight again!
Then into battle, with troubled dreams.
Watch men die, scream, curse, blaspheme.

For we, who are old, the guns still roar.
And long forgotten, young voices call.
Searching mortars, for humans seek.
To maim and kill, and wounding's wreak.
Hear the screams of men, in mortal pain?
Are those the Bells? That dread refrain?

How short the Countries memory yet.
"You who fought, we'll not pay the debt.
Your dream of England, we still rebuff
Your life of pain, is still not enough.
The sacrifice paid, that we might thrive.
"Good Lord man! Why? You are still alive"!

Now, Freedoms Bells no longer ring.
The debts not paid, and greed is King.
We, still live the years of mighty deeds.
And grieve for our fallen, our wounded bleed.
Who will ring the Bell of Freedoms song?
When we are gone? When we are gone?

Brian.
Sapper! Veteran! Old Buffer!
246 Field Company R.E. Eighth Brigade.
Third British Infanrty Division. Monties Ironsides!

 

Had to salute the spider description as me and the children (now adults) would react just like you did! Thank you for the chuckle.

 

8 9 11

Weert ! The feelings of this place, (once more very different). were of constant danger, and of normality. On our advance towards Weert, we had got ahead of the leading Recce and Infantry. Not unusual! to be accompanied by the usual complaint from the higher echelons nof… “Those Bloody Sappers again”

At one point we reached a position were the sound of tanks revving up could be heard.
A dusty track with a bend, On that bend, dense green bushes bending and fluttering in the wind, that concealed what was ahead. Near the bend was a dugout, just enough for one person. This was the outpost ! Where I was sent with the purpose of taking out the leading panzer should they come, with a PIAT .. The company had stopped further back. So I was alone in this isolated outpost, knowing full well that if the panzers had come our way, I had no chance, None! If I managed to get the leading tank. Very unlikely, with that abortion of a weapon like the PIAT. I knew that the moment I fired, the panzer grenadiers would get me. Suicide!

I can recall thinking Oh Bugger!… That’s me done….. Waiting fearfully, but determined, the sound of panzers revving up. Then they went the other way. Sheee ! What a relief. I was going to live after all..

After that savage wounding I sustained back in Normandy, I had this daft idea that I had my share, and that now the odds were in my favour; what a bloody Idiot!

Back to Weert .The enemy had blown the town bridges that crossed the canal. A canal that went straight through the centre of the town, dividing into two. We quickly made it possible for the folks to cross before building a bridge across.. There is a photo of the bridge with the Dutch folk celebrating as they crossed. At the time, I was under the bridge in a row boat, checking that it was safe to use.

The atmosphere of Weert stood out for me for several reasons. One, the water wagon took the wrong road and was never seen again, two, the enemy nicked a few of our men taken prisoner by a enemy patrol. Three, the very real danger of a counter attack where we were thin on the ground, The flags and celebration suddenly came to an abrupt end, as they realised that I and my fellow sappers were preparing explosive charges, to blow the buildings to slow the counter attack.

Fortunately, the attack never materialised…..We had also, in preparation for an attack built road blocks on the South side of the town…Thankfully, and for the Dutch folk that impending attack fizzled out, and came to nothing. The drive to reach the Airborne at Arnhem was a two pronged affair, with our drive North on the Eastern side of the main thrust North. Bloody dangerous as we had no protection on our flanks.
The company now running short of everything, advanced to the area of the “Evil Way”

 

Pics of Sappers Bridge Weert 1944.

 

9 9 11

The company now moved on to the monastery at Euvelwegen; translated as “Evil way” Here for a short while we relaxed, while the company was restocked ready for the next drive North. Now here we enjoyed the company of the “White Brothers” They wore long brown habits, tied with a thick white cord around the waist. While there: they challenged our mob to a football match. (It was a training college for the Brothers, run by Nuns.).

During the match, this brown tide swept down the field, and beat us 7 nil ? During the evening we provided the food, and bought drinks ready for a social evening, where we all did our little bits, including the Nuns. My platoon Sgt. Sgt Rees had a particularly fine Welsh voice. (The Company was created in Cardiff) The brothers had a plentiful supply of cigars… Odd that !

Inside the main building were cubicles where the brothers slept, each had a single bed. They insisted that they would give up their beds so that we could have a good nights kip… Oh Dear Oh dear!

We had become so used to digging a hole and sleeping in it, come rain or shine, that none of us had any sleep, we were definitely not used to beds….But we dare not say so.. Bless them!
To thank these kind folks for their hospitality. we built them a bridge over a stream in the grounds.

All too quickly this moment of normality came to an abrupt end. Back to war. We moved on. Northwards again, building bridges and all the tasks of an RE field Company. On to Marheeze,. Zomeren, and Helmond, and many places I cannot name. Later to move N/E of the river Maas near Mook, East if Grave, near Linden. In preparation for the attack on the Reichwald..The very name strikes terror ! The thought of fighting our way through a dense forest, with prepared defences in depth, did nothing for our peace of mind. We advanced with the company of 11th armoured div. While there, we came under considerable fire from German guns. We built a bailey at Heunen. It seemed the Enemy wanted to discourage any advances in that area.

Meanwhile our supply line had been cut off and we were reduced to living in captured German rations. No cigarettes. Nothing, except the bloody great round tins of herring That resembles an anti tank mine. YUK Dying for a cigarette and decent grub……

All of a sudden a change of plans, and we set off in a South East direction for operation “Aintree” around the area of Overloon and Venraij. Now the war turned into something quite deadly. A fearsome time amongst the pine woods and the deep mud and sand tracks….If ever there was an operation that deserved a battle honour medal? it was operation Aintree, the taking of Overloo and Venraj…For here we were to suffer what was for me, the very worst that war can throw at anyone.

For here that peculiar “surround sound of war” had changed once more. But this time into something very nasty indeed….. A deadly fight with no quarter asked or given. The names of Overloon and Venraij are engraved on my very soul. for my war was shortly to come to a very sticky end.

 

10 9 11

So here we were, nearing Operation Aintree. The Americans had made it known that they would throw out the enemy from Overloon and Venraij, and would then drive through to take Venlo……
Something went wrong !

For after the Germans set about them, and they suffered some losses, they departed for the South never to be seen again
Thanks a bundle ! So we were brought in to do the job where the Americans had failed.
We arrived in rain storm, with the roads covered in mud, rather like driving on ice. The operation had an atmosphere all of its own. This was to be a real horror. And as it happened, that is just what it was; A bloody horror…..

So with not a little apprehension, we took over from where the Yanks had hastily fled.
The first attack was on Overloon, That looked like it had been trampled on by an enormous weight. Literally! .Devastated….Amongst the mud and deep sandy tracks mines were everywhere, thousands of them…Schus took a daily toll, with men being brought back on an army stretcher with a bit of muddy khaki blanker, and a bit of blood streaked ivory bone sticking out the side where once a foot had been.

S mines also took a sever toll. Everywhere mines and more mines. Then we discovered a new mine. R mines, long rectangular and coloured light brown. Shelling and mortar fire was very heavy. One section of my 2 platoon were wiped out by a direct hit. .We set about our task of making mine free passages through the pine and sandy tracks for tanks and infantry.
After lifting huge amounts of R mines. The lot exploded (See my previous posting) we lost everyone there,. This was described as an accident. Being I was there a minute or two before the explosion, we had been under mortar fire and I am sure that is what set the mines off.

This was a two brigade attack supported by the tank lads. Of 11th armoured div, This was the time of the “Garden Roller man” (previously posted)

Overloon was taken where the Americans had failed. We lost more men. But in the end it lay safely in our hands. But this was just the start, for now before us lay the stream known as “the Molen Beek”
Next Venraij..

 

Thank you for sharing your experience with all of us, Brian. I link to this page every time I visit the site. I will read more about the "R" mines.

 

11 9 11


In this bitter war, we continued to lift mines as though there was never to be an end to them.
Having taken Overloon, or what was left of it., We now concentrated on Venraij. The first problem was the Molen Beek. Mines infested everywhere, even under the water and on the banks of the Beek.

Under very heavy fire, we got three tanks across using a AVRE, but they immediately bogged down in the mud and blocked the path. Eventually the RE managed to get a trestle bridge over. We lost the CO, wounded crawling along the mined banks of the Beek. Where we got the 11th armoured div across. During that battle we lost men when mines blew up.. All the time under a heavy barrage of shelling and mortaring.
This was a real bugger to deal with.. It was one of the very worst of times. The mud and the deep rutted sand. The continuous rain. And the mines! always the mines! For this really was the very worst of battles, and we lost some very good friends in that ghastly battle for Overloon and Venraij.

Now the company moved to a rather battered hutted camp N /E of Venraij. This was a camp built for the Dutch Youth that wanted to join the German SS. A training camp for them. We laid protective mine fields and road blocks around the place. The road mined and covered in camouflage nets.

We built Baileys and took on all types of Sapper jobs. The we started offensive patrolling using the deserted villages out on the wet lands in the vicinity of the river Maas. Those that have read the previous postings will recall the small band of us that penetrated deep inside enemy territory. Right up on to the banks of the Maas, with a flaming gramophone. Playing plastic type record discs. Laying in the stinking Dutch mud all night. Bloody frozen stiff and under the very noses of the enemy…..And to think that my boss did not want me to join the army!

Next we are out on fighting patrols. And my final wounding draws near

 

Try to get there first.
Night patrols out on the wet lands of Holland, amongst the deserted villages, now became a regular practice, there were lots of these villages out in the vicinity of the Maas, all deserted, we never saw a soul, it was best to get there before the Enemy if you could. Sitting in the open windows waiting for the appearance of the Enemy, Bren gun cocked ready. I had the impression that the war had subsided for the winter and that neither side was much interested in fire fight.

Fresh food was becoming quite a problem, or lack of it! we were still living on soup, biscuits, and canned foods. I remember that we were all beginning to feel very tired, far to quickly, we heard that some units had been issued with real bread, but so far none had come our way and it was 4/5 months since we landed, one day, (glory be) we were issued with a half pint of beer, I shall never forget it, it was Tennants beer.

There was a lot of discontent at that time, we felt that our rations were being fiddled and pinched by those in the rear echelons, precious little reached us! As the Winter began to draw in we were issued with a navy rum ration every night, I liked mine with my tea, still being drunk out of my one single billy can.

Out on patrol in this "No mans land" all the locals had long departed leaving everything as it was, and all their animals to fend for themselves. Many chickens, all of them skinny and white long legged things, they could run a fit young Sapper off of his feet. "Shades of the road runner" My old friend Spud and myself spent a great deal of energy chasing these very elusive hens, even in the confined space of a chicken run they managed to avoid us, more than once I threw myself headlong at these hens, only to come up empty handed, accompanied by loud squawks as they flew by at 90 miles per hour.

. So it continued, night patrols, some times with casualties, some times all you ever saw was a German patrol dog, one minute the dog was there, the next, as you turned your head, he would vanish. Miserable, cold and featureless, not my favourite place or time. Holland in Winter? no thanks. So once more the whole feeling of the war had changed. Normandy was a li9fw time ago,and a World away from this flat featureless watery land of Holland.
Next BUGGER! they got me again! But this time for good!…..