Ken Bush's War Part 2 - Wounded in Action

I think we took a train down to London, somewhere near the Dagenham area to this big sort of tented permanent camp.

Well we eventually got down to the dockside. I find it very hard to describe the ship because all it was a pile of paving slabs bolted together. There was no keel or anything, it was just a big box and there was a dozen tanks inside and terrible smell of diesel fumes, there were motors going all the time, we had no funnell so it seemed that all the fumes were going through the boat and I felt as sick as anything. The boat began to vibrate and I thought oh god we’re starting. After about two hours I turned to somebody crikey we’ve been going two hours now and I haven't been seasick, that’s quite good.He said don’t be a chump, we haven't even left the dockside yet. When we did get outside the break waters it was really rocky and someone quickly reported that two of the tanks had broken loose from their moorings and were bashing against the sides of this thing they call a boat. So it was call skipper, get the infantry down to sort this out, you know and everyone else disappeared and I thought well the best thing to do here is to get on the tank and if it crushes against the side it won't get me. Eventually we had some chains and one or two naval people came and helped us aswell and we lashed these, they weren’t our tanks, British tanks yes, but nothing to do with us, lashing the cargo down. The only means to get on top deck was through a manhole, which was just about; well you couldn’t get your shoulders through. You had to turn your shoulders to get through it was so narrow. You’d pop your head up and god the seas were rainy, it was a terrible day out in the channel and boats were swinging past us, bands playing, ATS girls all dancing, all the latest stuff and there was us in this stinking thing, crashing against the waves, no buoyancy. It was a nightmare. And eventually we got within sight of Ostend, didn’t know it was Ostend at the time and we all felt quite relieved and then the captain turned round and said it’s too dangerous to moor up here, we’ll have to go back, so we went all the way back to England. Then the next day we set sail again.

When we arrived eventually at the dockside at Ostend I’d got a terrible throat, it really felt rough and the smarmy blokes were standing on the quayside, anyone want to report sick you know, all this business, so I said yes I do, I’ve got a terrible throat, so they produce a big bowl of purple liquid, said here are, which I probably drunk the whole lot. You’re supposed to gargle with that lad he said. Too late mate, I’ve drunk it! And yeah, it made me feel a lot better.

Well then come to the 21st of February 1945, we seem to be messing about going from town to town and I never knew where we were, I don’t think any of us really knew where we were. We were occupying Belgium in the main, little bits of Holland, and we were just sort of following the crowd until the 21st when we were officially transferred to the Royal Welch Fusiliers. That meant that we had to go to the tailors and get new flashes on our jackets including the black five strand flash for the back of the collar. This is the only regiment to wear this fashion and it can be most awkward at times. Give you an incidence where we were on parade and the RSM have called us on this parade at half past six in the morning and that included all the officers, everybody and there was a rumpus and nobody liked this business of this parade. Anyway we all got lined up and the officers lined up in there proper place and he stamped his feet and went up to him — company ready for inspection sir — and the officer turned to him and said dismiss the parade, take yourself off and get properly dressed. Poor chap. He was absolutely flabbergasted, he didn’t know what’s wrong and he marched us all up, we all go off and we’re all laughing, not out loud, you could tell there was mirth all around and somebody said to him you’ve got shaving soup on your ribbon sir, and that’s what had happened. He’d been geeing everyone along and he got into the sergeant’s mess to gee him along to get on parade and as he walked past the chap with the shaving brush had dubbed him onto his black tapes that we had from your collar. And because he hadn't seen it. Anyway that’s the use of these things. On the other hand of course you can easily identify with them. I was the only person in Rugeley, the only soldier who was wearing these tapes, you know and the sort of thing oh I see that girl is going out with a soldier. Which one’s that? The one with the black tapes, oh I know him. It was like wearing an iron mask.

Anyway on the 21st February 1945 we officially joined the Royal Welch Fusiliers and we were now Taffy’s. I suppose somebody in the war office, you know somebody had said we’re short of men on the front there sir, well send my Royal Welch Fusiliers. Are they trained, trained, they can march through a line of cups and only break one, that’s how trained we were.

As I mentioned before we were moving around Belgium, bits of Holland and we didn’t know where we were half the time. And we didn’t really know what was happening in the rest of the world. We never saw newspapers; we never had a radio, I mean a public radio, giving us some news broadcasts or whatever. And we were in complete ignorance of what was happening. Until this one day, 1st March 1945,it was when we were heading out in the Royal Fusiliers, they seemed a bit brisker then normal, we lined up and nothing said, and off we went and gradually as we walked down the lane or the road we hear gunfire. We were walking towards a battle. Nobody had told us, nobody told us where we were going or what we were going to do when we got there. We were just walking and this gunfire got louder and we just kept looking at each other. We had with us the Piat Gun which is an anti-tank gun supposedly used by the infrantry to blow up tanks. It was passing down the line and gradually it handed to me to carry it. It was a damn heavy thing, awkward, and the marching pace was getting brisker and brisker so we were almost into a trot and I’ve got this damn thing on me. I slowed up a bit to adjust it on my arm and Sergeant said, keep going, keep going, so I said where’s the shells for this gun and he said further down the line, and I said, how do you load it, anyone got any instructions for it. Don’t be stupid, carry on, carry on. And eventually after about half an hour of my turn of carrying it I passed it onto the next person, I said no instructions with it, I don’t know how you fire this thing. He said no, and you know he carried it and by this time the shell, we would have been shelled as we were walking down this road, and shells were sort of exploding in the air, throwing around bits of shrapnel, and a bit hit me on the tin hat, if you like a comic boing, it all shattered and at the same time I went blind because the camouflage netting that we wore on the tin hat had been severed and it just fell down over my face like a veil. So I had to stop and adjust it so I could see where I was going, again I got a prod, keep going, keep going, and we kept going and that was it. It was all right but it was getting darker and we had no idea really of time, I don’t think I had a wristwatch in those days, when I was in the forces anyway. We kept pushing on and this shellfire’s getting more intense, followed by little bits of machine gun fire, we’re looking at each other, keep going, keep going, and we come across, found ourselves in a field. It was an enormous field, about the size of five football pitches and one side of this field was a very high fence, I'm talking about 12 foot tree fence, and we could see no way out of it, it was so thick, but just tucked in one corner was a five bar gate so we all made for this gate, well I mean the instructions always say keep spread, don’t bunch, and we’re running towards this gate and I remember thinking crikey, one shell here and he’s got the lot of us. Eventually they got this gate opened and it had been chained you see, and we got it open and we filed through it and it was like going through the turnstiles at a football match. We were just lining up and going through one at a time through this gap that it made, just like a turnstile and again I was worried sick I though crikey, you know, one of these shells burst over there has got the lot. But anyway we got through it, spread out and we came to a wood and here they decided that we would dig in. Luckily it had been a wood of many years but the ground wasn’t hard, it was mainly leaf mould really so we dug our trenches, I’ve never dug a trench so quick in all my life. So we dug in and we decided to get settled in and a pause in the shelling I got out the trench and we were tidying up and making a bit more secure and the shelling started again and I dived into my trench, you now a real deep water dive and as I dived I got hit on the back and I knew that was it. I fell in a heap on top of the other chap who was helping me tidy up this trench. His reaction was a bit strange, he went a bit berserk because I’d landed on top of him and it put the wind up him. So he lashed out, get out of my trench you know. My bloody trench.

Anyway I hadn't mentioned that I’d acquired a leather jerkin jacket. I don’t know why I got it or how I got it, by honest means. But anyway so I felt my back, run my hand down my back, and could feel nothing except the pain, I couldn’t feel blood or anything. What had happened was that the shrapnel that had hit me made like an L shaped tear in the leather jacket and as I run my hand down to feel the extent of the wound it flattened out. And so there we were. After a little while the sergeant and the corporal came round and said I understand you’ve been hit, I said yeah, they said lets see it so I mean I couldn’t see it because it was in my back, but I sort of half turned and you can tell by peoples faces can't you that they looked and there eyes met, one nose curled up and they said, that’ll be ok lad. So I said yeah. They said well I can’t afford anybody to help you back to the medical and I certainly can't spare anybody to go with you, which is a bit strange. So I said oh and they said well could you find your own way back? I said well I expect I can find my own way back yeah. So I said cheerio lads and wondered off into the wood to find my own way back. Finding your way out, it’s a bit different. With the light it was difficult to tell whether it was nighttime, what the time was, but I eventually came across a building, it looked like a bungalow.

I’ll go back to when the corporal and sergeant said can you find your own way back. You know me being me, oh yeah I’ll do that, yeah. You take six steps in a wood, absolute pitch black darkness and you’ve got a vague idea your heading that way but your frightened your going to go round in circles, furthermore your frightened your going to end up behind their lines. Anyway I pushed on, Id say it took about two hours because everytime there was a burst of gunfire I had to stop and check my mind, check where I was and I was heading in the right direction and so it went on. Eventually I sort of broke clear of the woods and more over the field and the skyline became more discernable, but I could see a flagpole. It was a gigantically high flagpole, it was the Red Cross flag. But during this time I hadn't met a person, hadn't been challenged by anybody, I was completely on my own, and when I got nearer the first aid point I began to wonder is it ours, you know because, it’s a bit worrying. Anyway I went in and there was about a dozen or so chaps sitting on the benches round the outside of the room, about half a dozen laying on stretchers on the floor and was greeted with complete abruptness, yes, is this where I report, yes, sit over there. I thought he's not a very friendly bloke. Supposed to be on our side so I went and sat over there on the bench, one of the blokes shuffled up a bit and made a bit of room for me and sat there. And blokes kept breaking into welsh so I couldn’t always understand what they were saying cause the army always gives the big sportsman these sorts of jobs and so half of them were all rugby players or whatever. And eventually the door opened again and in came a stretcher with a chap on it who I happened to recognise The point is i'd only been in this regiment for about a day, how we were supposed to know people and comradeship and all that I don’t know. Anyway this chap came in and I recognised him as Blacky and I said how you doing and I could see, you know it was a silly question, I could see he was in a really bad way, I said how you doing, he said oh I'm freezing to death I ain’t going to be much longer and so I thought I could do something charitable here, I took my leather jacket or jerkin off to wrap round him. And at that moment that I took it off, 8, oh no 6, I was exaggerating, a few of the orderly charged me like a rugby tackle, pinned me to the floor and onto a stretcher. I would have gone voluntarily, there was no need for this violence but anyway that’s what they did and put a few bandages on and then the sergeant came in and said how did you get here, who sent you. The sergeant. Where’s the stretcher-bearers, there weren’t any, you walked? Yeah. Can’t believe that. So I said why wont you believe it, he said well all those lot sitting there they’ve all run out the line, there all from the firing squad and he said that in a loud voice to shake them a bit I think. Anyway I'm on this stretcher and I'm beginning to freeze and lying next to me was Blacky on a stretcher with my leather jacket on. I let it go. But I wasn’t there long, talk about National Health Service and all that, only a few minutes and they said right and they lifted me up and I was in an ambulance leaving the others behind. So I don’t know the reason for anything, I was just taken and put in the ambulance. As it pulled away I heard a noise from the bunk below me and I peered over, it was a young, I say young, I wasn’t old was I, German soldier. He was wounded and he had the fear in his eyes. I suppose I would have been afraid if I was in a German ambulance. Anyway I gave him a thumbs up sign, which sort of broke the ice. I never saw him again, what happened to him I’ve no idea.

I found out in later years that the fighting took place near the town of Weeze in Germany and that 32 soliders and officers were killed that night, with many more wounded, which explains why no stretcher bearers were available to take me back to the first aid station

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