Part 1: July 1942 - January 1943

Wednesday 9th July 1942

“Today I received my call-up papers. I had already been deferred once and could have been deferred again, as I was working in the building trade and we were kept busy because of the bombing. As all of my pals had already gone to war, I said I’d rather go too. This was also the day I met my future wife, Nancy.”

16th July 1942

“I was told to report to Chesterfield Sherwood Forresters barracks for six weeks training, and as I’d been in the Home Guard, to wear that uniform to travel in. There were a couple of others in uniform like me when I arrived. I had done a lot of basic training in the Home Guard which helped me a lot, especially with marching and rifle drill.

The first week I was on parade I was made a Marker. There was one for each platoon of about 30 men, and five platoons in all. Each morning about 150 troops stood on the edge of the parade ground, and the RSM would call for the Markers. The five of us had to march onto the parade ground and halt at a specific point for each platoon, spaced out, a bit like Trooping the Colour. We were like five lone statues standing to attention. Then the RSM would shout “On Parade!” and all the troops would march onto the parade ground, each platoon lining up in three ranks off the Marker. There was then the usual inspection of uniforms and rifles.

The next six weeks I thought were the hardest of my life, but I didn’t know then what lay in store for me in Burma... At Chesterfield we did 20 mile route marches, assault courses every day, and rifle drill. One day we did rifle drill without wearing shirts. We had to bang the rifle butt against our bare shoulders. I was a bit bony and I must have hit my shoulder too hard, as next morning it was very red and swollen like a balloon. I had to go sick and have hot fomentations on it for about a week.

We had to finish our training on the rifle range, and there was a competition to see which platoon could score the most marks. I was a good shot with a rifle, and the Sergeant asked me if I’d be able to fire the rifle with my shoulder bandaged up. I said I didn’t know, but went with them to the rifle range. After all the platoons had fired, mine was about 40 points behind the leader. The Sergeant asked me to have a go, but stop if I was in too much pain. I said I’d try, and got down on the ground with my rifle; this in itself was agony. I fired the first shot and the pain wasn’t too bad, except for the jolt of the rifle. I continued to fire and scored 45 points out of a possible 50. We only needed 40 to win, so I was the hero of the platoon!”

August — September 1942

“The last day at Chesterfield our postings came up on the board. Everyone thought I would go in the Infantry, but I was posted to Aldershot, Royal Artillery after only 48 hours leave.

When I got to Aldershot I knew there would be parades etc., and thought the training at Chesterfield was the same for everything. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The Infantry get the order “Halt!” on the right foot; the R.A. get it on the left foot. The R.A. march slower than the Infantry. We had to dubbin our boots in the Infantry but polish them in the R.A. Imagine trying to get a polish on your boots after putting dubbin on them for six weeks...

We started training on Bofors guns, 40mm shells. There were 9 men on a gun: 6 Gunners, 1 Bombadier, 1 Lance Bombadier and 1 Sergeant. After a months training I was made Lance Bombadier (1 stripe), in charge of the actual firing of the gun.

Every Sunday we had Church Parade. The second Sunday I was Orderly NCO. When the inspection of all the troops on parade was over I had to march them to church — shout them all to attention and give the order to right turn and march off. Of course I had to remember when facing them that my left was their right, and also remember to give the order to halt on the correct foot.

I had a mate at Aldershot from Liverpool whose name was JACK SENIOR. We were in the same gun crew, and were both posted to the HQ of 129 Regiment Light Anti-Aircraft, at Hythe, near Folkestone after just seven days leave. When we got to Hythe there were six of us waiting to be told which gun sight we would be posted to. The Sergeant told us we would be going in to see the officer-in-charge two at a time. There were three of us from Liverpool, and Jack said we would go in together and get on the same gun. But I had to go to the toilet, and while I was away Jack was told to go in with the other Liverpool bloke. So we ended up on different guns.

We were sent to defend Hawkinge Airfield in Kent. It was called Hellfire Corner; we could see France which was only 20 miles away. The German coastal guns were firing day and night. The shells would sometimes whistle over our heads onto the airfield, sometimes they would land in front of us. The gun Jack Senior was on was in front of us, and received a direct hit. They were all killed, so if I hadn’t have gone to the toilet that day...”

November 1942

“Moved to Woodbridge Airfield in Suffolk. We were attached to the R.A.F. and had a dugout in the gun pit like the old First World War trenches. We did 24 hour guards, 2 hours on and 4 hours off. We had a dog — a Chow — used to come every night. He would lie on the sandbags at the top of the dugout and stay there all night. He was a smashing guard dog. He knew if anyone was coming long before we saw or heard anything. He never barked, he just used to give a low growl and we would know to be extra alert.”

December 1942

“We were then moved to Harwich Docks and Felixstowe. It was freezing cold. We had overcoats and leather jerkins which we had to wear all day and night. We had no hot water so we couldn’t have a shower, in fact we couldn’t wash or shave properly.

We had to build a brick road up to the gun sight. I was laying the road with four other blokes, and the others were throwing the bricks from the lorry to where we were working. I had my back to them, and someone threw a brick which hit the back of my head. I went flying and nearly passed out. I was taken down to a café and given a cup of tea, but after about an hour it was back to laying the road. I had a sore head for several days afterwards.”

January 1943

“After Christmas we moved to Woolwich. I was put on a draft to go overseas but I hadn’t been in the Army long enough, as you had to be in at least six months before being sent abroad. I was told I’d probably be in the next draft. I was again lucky as the ship I should have been on was torpedoed off the coast of West Africa. I was sent on embarkation leave for two weeks.”

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