Bulldog Spirit Chapter 5 Italy to After the War

ITALY

I could go into much more detail but I wish to condense my story, I have got such a long way to go and who knows when my last train is due. Anyway we eventually leave Sicily for Italy around the heel by sea our destination is Barry. (The whole company this time and I have got my mate Douglas with me now). Our entrance here was very difficult, enemy planes diving at us out of the Sun, we continually had to take cover (as we were taught, across the line of fire).

I must tell you a special story here, to point out what a terrible thing war really is. In my squad there was a cockney, we will call him Bill. Not much less than a year before he had received the news that his Mother and Father had been bombed and were both killed. Bill was also one of the 20 sappers with me on our entry into Syracuse and just before that exercise he had received a message that his wife and two children had also been killed. Therefore is it more than just understandable that he was a very heartbroken and bitter man. Can you begin to imagine how he must have felt? Especially where enemy planes were concerned. We were under cover and you could not see a thing, but Bill jumped up ran out into the open shouting, “I’ll get one of the bastards!” It was my duty to fetch him back under cover and by all rules and regulations it should not have been left at that, but I am only human.

Once in Barry we commandeered a school as the unit headquarters because we had to control the railways. Douglas and I took charge of the locomotive depot to organise the servicing and preparation for our requirements. We were getting along quite well with the Italian engineers and we had the best office accommodation. A lot of the respect that we received was due to the fact that Douglas spoke Italian fluently. As a matter of interest the valve gearing of the Italian locomotive was totally different to the British Walchart Gear, theirs was a Poppet Valve that was extremely efficient and silent. It was a Caprotti valve gear, it was very complicated to engage the reverse motion. Douglas and I became real experts on the subject. We had to make sure that men and ammunition reached their targets Foggia, Ancona, Rimini, Taranto, Salerno and so on. Our American allies were on the opposite side from Salerno, Naples, Rome to Bologne and Milan. During one period I was ordered to take 12 sappers to Rome as American diesel electric locomotives, at least 50 of them, were in the workshops. We had to become efficient as to their overhaul, both mechanically and electrically. Eventually, thank the Lord, the war was at its end.

We were on the move again, this time to Naples, then by sea to Marseilles, across France into Belgium and our journey ending at Essen, Germany. This overland journey was by railway in goods wagons not in coaches. There is an interesting episode here, about something that happened during this journey. Have you ever wondered about our eating and personal hygiene throughout this story? It was very difficult on many occasions, at one point I went 3 months without a proper wash and shave. This small episode has a connection with this. Our train had stopped to take water I believe every soldier was endeavouring to get a drink and fill his water bottle, have a wash etc. We were all so busy when someone happened to notice one of our oldest N C Os, he was a regular before the war, Old George we all called him. He was seen to be a fair distance across a field, he was desperate to relieve himself but what had been noticed that at the side of the track near the field was a sign which read, ‘KEEP OUT — MINED’. Of course several men shouted “George, you silly bugger, you’re in a mine field.” George had his trousers below his knees by this time but he stopped what he was doing, having already forgot what he was there for. He slowly pulled up his trousers and everyone was completely silent as he endeavoured to return, putting his feet in exactly the same spots as when he went out. Yes, thank God, he did make it.

GERMANY - ESSEN

We eventually arrive at Essen, on this occasion we are allocated Krupp’s mansion as our billet. Krupps were a large German engineering family. This house had been a beautiful country home and was still quite pleasant.

I was off duty and decided to go for a walk, armed with a Tommy Gun and we were not allowed to fraternise with the Germans. Another soldier, who I knew quite well, he was a sapper and I believe the Colonel’s Batman,was going for a walk also, so we decided to walk together. All the buildings around had been flattened, we talked of home, his name was Stan and he was a Fellow of the Royal College of Organists, for over 4 ½ years he had so missed his music. How we longed to be home. ‘Look Stan, a big Church over there, it doesn’t look as though it has been touched, let’s go and have a look, there might be an organ.’ The church was large, clean and intact, we clomped in, our boot making quite a noise on the block floor. As we got so far down the Church a figure in black emerged and came towards us, I spoke and used signs. ‘Music? Organ?’ He understood and replied ‘Ya, ya.’ And pointed behind us and upwards to what was the organ loft. He led the way to the loft, quite a large balcony with a wooden rail at the front overlooking the main body of the Church. At the back and at the highest point was the organ, Stan walked over to it, his eyes alight and a smile all over his face. I said it was a five manual organ, I cannot remember the name. I turned to the priest and said, ‘Electrics?’ His answer again was, ‘Ya.’ and he turned it on. I turned to Stan and said, ‘All yours mate.’ He removed his army boots, sat at the organ, sorted out some music and he was away. He was lost in his music. I stood at the lower end of the balcony, my Tommy Gun over my shoulder, listening. Suddenly the door onto the balcony opened, and German youths began to enter, I began to be a little on edge as one can imagine, watching every move very carefully. Eventually about 20 youths, male and female were present, it became apparent that one female possibly in her 30’s was in charge, it must be a choir. Eventually I decided a move must be made, walking slowly towards them, I beckoned to the woman and made signs, ‘Do you want music?’ Again the answer came, ‘Ya, ya.’ I went over to Stan who as yet did not know we had company, I said, ‘Have you seen all these Germans?’ He took my eyes from the organ, he was astonished. I said, ‘You’d better get off for a while.’ After a while the woman went over to the organ, gave the correct key and it was choir practice. I stuck this for some time then I beckoned the woman again, opening and closing my hands as though it was a mouth, I said ‘Comrade music?’ The woman understood and nodded. ‘There you are Stan, you’re on again, find something they can sing.’ He sorted through the music and started to play Gounod’s Ave Maria. The woman started to sing the rest occasionally backing her up, without a word of a lie, it was absolutely beautiful, something that I can never forget. The tears were streaming down my face, at the end I gave a little clap and a smile of appreciation, then turning to Stan I said, ‘Come on, it’s time we were away.’ As we left they all acknowledged Stan’s efforts, of course Stan had enjoyed himself and so had I, after all I’m only human.

Hostilities being over now, our engineering skills were no longer required, just training, polishing, marching and being a soldier. I was spared most of that because the Colonel, in his wisdom, chose me to be in charge of recreation facilities and allocated me three large rooms. The centre one I utilised for taking liquid refreshment, the carpenters constructed a bar for me along one wall. The room on the right was used for games such as darts, table tennis, cards etc. The other room was for writing and reading. I had over 300 men to cater for with beer and cigarettes, whisky and wine for the officers. The army had already taken over a brewery at Dortmund. When my supplies needed replenishing I put in a request to the army vehicle pool for a vehicle and driver. On one such occasion we were travelling along the autobahn and the road was slightly wet. At this stage I was not aware that my driver was a new recruit from England and only recently passed as a driver. In front of us were several large German trucks. The driver asked my permission to overtake. This, of course astounded me, I said ‘OK, if the conditions are right, you’re driving.’ We overtook and were about to pull back into the nearside but the vehicle went into a four wheel skid and it was as we were approaching a bend. We hit the kerb with both near-side wheels unfortunately on the other side was a 25ft (at least) drop. We completed several somersaults coming to rest upside down, beer barrels were scattered everywhere. When we hit the kerb I did have the presence of mind to lean forward and switch off the ignition then I pulled my knees right up under my chin and waited for it. Both the driver and I climbed out of our respective windows, I asked him if he could feel if any bones were broken. He thought he was alright, so I told him to stay with the vehicle while I got help. We eventually had to go for a medical inspection, the driver had sustained 4 broken ribs and all I had was a headache. Before leaving this section there is one more little experience I would like to relate.

DRINK UP!

A number of sappers were allocated to me, some on bar duty and various other jobs. It was Christmas Eve (I can’t remember the year), the war was over anyway, and it wasn’t long before my demobilisation. My staff wanted to know if we were going to lock up because the RAF who were not far away had sent invitations to join them at a party. I thought about it and said ‘Well, you chaps go, I think I’d better keep the place open, someone is bound to come in requiring something, anyway what time do you think you’ll be back.’ They thought about 11pm, so I said I would keep the bar open until they returned. By 11.15pm I had not been required for anything so it had been a boring evening, but on the back of the bar I had an old radio playing. I didn’t think they would be much longer so decided to draw a few pints so they could have a drink on me when they arrived back. I had filled at least a dozen pints but still no men arrived and the beer was going flat so I thought I’d better down a couple. Eventually the men did return, they found me with the stick I usually carried under my arm thrashing the radio and saying “Sing, you bugger, sing!” After all I’m only human.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.