Memories of Frank Yates Chapter 35

Memories of Frank Yates CHAPTER 35

After the ‘s Hertogenbosch campaign, we were moved down to a town in south Holland called Weert.
The Canadian Army was just finishing the arduous task of clearing the approaches to Antwerp, but to hold up the British advance to the Rhine, a strong German force had established itself on the west bank of the Maas, north of Roermond, between the Wessem and the Zig canals. 12 Corps was given the job of clearing this German salient. 7th Armoured div captured the strongly held Wessem lock and 15 and 53 Divs did their usual assault across the water barrier. It was a difficult crossing, in constant rain and approaches flooded by the enemy. 15 Div. made much use of flame throwing Crocodile tanks to clear the other bank whilst crossing, 53 Div built several bridges and the 3 Welsh Brigades duly established themselves on the Maas, opposite Roermond. A tenacious pocket of retreating Germans had occupied a farmhouse on the east bank and were making themselves a nuisance to 160 Brigade, facing them. By this time we had acquired an RAF. Liaison Officer who was asked to “Winkle them out” At a prearranged time, which ensured appreciative spectators, 3 Typhoons appeared and, diving on the farmhouse, launched their terrifying rockets. It seems that the German troops emerged and scattered wildly in all directions, two of them even diving into the Maas. A bit chilly in November! When the planes departed, there was no farmhouse left to use as a strong point! It was patently clear that the building could have been easily taken out by artillery, but the boys in blue liked a bit of fun and the troops enjoyed a bit of spectator sport! After the clearing of the German troops from the West bank, we moved down to a large village near the Maas, rejoicing in the name of Heijhuizen. This redbrick place was in the marshy, depressing area of S.E. Holland, a vast area of peat bog, flat and featureless, known as the Peel Marshes. Heijhuizen itself was the largest of the villages west of the River and was host to a large religious establishment and I got the impression that there were more black clad priests in the place than ordinary citizens!
Three well remembered events happened in Heijhuizen. Firstly I carelessly left my gun belt in my unattended jeep and it was duly stolen. The belt contained my Webley revolver, complete with its loose firing pin, ten rounds of ammunition and a prismatic compass. I very well knew that losing my firearm was a serious offence and spent a worrying time until the camp sergeant major, produced, for me, from that mysterious store, open only to ex quartermasters, a beautiful, shiny Smith and Wesson .38 revolver. No questions asked about its history as I gratefully accepted this Rolls Royce of pistols. As I shall recount, later in my notes, Harry the Camp, the other half of the dodgy duo, produced a jeep, when Donald Phelps and I had abandoned one in an unattended ditch where it was completely stripped and cannibalised.
Secondly we were buzzed by an ME 262. This was our first sight of a jet powered aircraft. We viewed it worriedly as it swooped around the houses but it was probably on a reconnaissance mission and disappeared without incident.
A visit from the Supreme Allied Commander, General Eisenhower, was the third notable event. His staff car arrived in the middle of a convoy of ten jeeps, each armed with twin mounted .50 calibre machine guns, or a 20 mm. cannon. “Ike” was keen to avoid suffering the same problem that Rommel encountered at the hands of the RAF. As the Luftwaffe was seldom seen at this stage of the war, perhaps the procession was more ceremonial than practical! We, on parade, were, inspected by the General, who shook the hands of all the officers, looking, I thought, somewhat bored and keen to get away, and who could blame him? We looked to see if his car was chauffeured by his English lady friend, but were disappointed to find an American sergeant at the helm!
November stretched into December and we were still on the west bank of the Maas, the Germans on the other side of the great river content to stay in a quiet defensive role
Eventually, on the 17th of December we were able to say good bye to this Dutch riviera and were ordered to the area around Herenthals, back in Belgium for a divisional break. Our H.Q. was in Herenthals itself, a small town situated on the Escaut canal, and quiet pleasant. We were ensconced inside buildings in those days; after all, it was almost Christmas and very cold. In view of the Division being withdrawn from the war zone, the General sent most of the key officers, in the various units, on Xmas leave to Britain. Disappointingly for them, the weather became very misty and the Dakotas could not fly, so they were waiting impatiently in a Brussels hotel for an improvement in the visibility. At the same time, the weather conditions became perfect for Von Runstedt who launched the surprise offensive from the Ardennes.
Ominously, on our ops map, the blue bulge grew and grew as the Germans pushed back the thinly spread Americans through the icy, snow covered, beautiful uplands of southern Belgium. On the 19th I was told to go, hot foot, to the hotel in Brussels and tell our chaps that their holiday was over before it had started. I had a small map board, showing the latest situation, and when I arrived, they crowded round as I delivered the news. The newspapers had carried the news of the “Bulge” and, no doubt, there had been telephone conversations, the result was that they were packed and ready to go. I informed them that arrangements had been made for transport to be sent from all the units involved. Our blokes piled into my jeep and we were soon back in Herenthals, preparing for the move to the eastern side of Brussels as a “Long Stop”, should the German attack prosper.

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