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Category: Community
Forum: Chat Room
Thread: On this Day |
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Thread Status: Locked Total posts in this thread: 716
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Friday, 17th November 1944
We, (Hartog and Harold) had been corresponding over the last fortnight or so and learning about each other, showing each other's photograph to comrades who mistake each for the other. We were of about the same height and build, were born the same year, had the same surname, were both known as "Harry" and could pass for twins. Nevertheless, there is no apparent family relationship between us. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Saturday, 18th November 1944.
For the previous fortnight B Coy had been resting in Tilburg, with occasional trips to Turnhout or S'Hertogenbosch, for no reason apparent at the time, but hindsight suggests that we were kicking up dust to make the enemy think we were preparing for action. His retort takes the form of what the local folk call doodlebugs - V1’s most of which were no bother, though one did land very close to the Voltwerke while we were there. Now we were going back to Gemert, while the infantry took another strategic town (Helmond, I think) without much difficulty. Our spearhead tactics were now producing dividends. We had transverse communications between flanks, while the enemy had to use a long route to match our movements. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Sunday, 19th November, 1944
Corny welcomed us back to the farm. It was my birthday, but there were no celebrations. In fact none of us had celebrated anything personal since the start of the pre D-day quarantine. The only celebrations I could remember before that were: Passing-out day, 1942, when they allowed us out to visit the local hostelry, Cambrai day, 1942, when, instead of queuing at the cook house, we troopers sat down to our meal and the officers served us, as do infantry officers on Boxing Day. Christmas Day, the same year, when we ate turkey with cranberry sauce. The next year, after my transfer to the R.A.M.C., the Londoners invited some of us, members of 163 Field Ambulance, to Christmas dinner. In between, a couple of us celebrated Burns’ night in Hawick, when the barmaid at the Crown Hotel found a cobweb encrusted pre-war bottle of Drambuie. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Monday, 20th November 1944
----------------------------------------I taught myself how to play scales on the harmonica, but had not mastered the art of playing tunes by ear. Nobody seemed to mind the odd sounds I could create, so I went on to teach myself a tune or two. I found the learning process swinging between relaxing and frustrating but with a little application the results would relieve the boredom of traveling half blind in the back of a truck, seeing nothing of the scenery ahead until we were well past it. [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Nov 20, 2008 12:05:39 PM] |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Tuesday, 21st November 1944
----------------------------------------Back to the comparative comfort of the farm, letters and newspapers begin to arrive and we have time to answer the former and read the latter. We also have the chance to keep ourselves neat and tidy, which is just as well, as I have a Brussels leave in the pipeline. [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Nov 21, 2008 5:43:54 PM] |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Wednesday, 22nd November 1944
I continued with my writing, which was becoming a hobby for me. I had been producing an article, a short story and even a poem, all of which I had sent off for publication at one time or another to such magazines as Men Only (whose editor replied, "No verse! Sorry.") Penguin New Writing, Leader, The Opus Press, Lilliput and Illustrated. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Moascar, 23rd November (approx.), 1945
----------------------------------------Moascar is very close to Ismailia, on Lake Timsah, a very short walk in fact. There was a Services Club there, where men could enjoy evening snacks and drinks. Men who were not keen on cleaning their own boots could have this done by itinerant bootblacks who hung around outside. The resultant shine, however, did not last very long; there were even stories of men who had a shine at one end of the street and need another at the other end! For newcomers it was not advisable to leave camp in daylight. The Cliff T.Waller could easily identify them by the colour of their knees. Meanwhile the old hands encourage them with shouts of “Get your knees brown”. After dark, however, all personnel wear long trousers to reduce the chance of mosquito bites, and the days were spent sun bathing, as there was little else to do. We should of course be training for our next mission, but nobody admits to knowing what that is. There was no sign of the canal being in need of defence, except possibly against the Egyptians themselves! [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Nov 23, 2008 11:54:04 AM] |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
The Moascar Adventure - continued; 24th November, 1945
As far as I could remember, there was no active duty at Moascar, only sentry duty, fatigues, morale and cooking. The men were not interested in current affairs except the local ones, and I was not conversant enough with those to lead a discussion. In fact, I was having no contact with the locals until I had learnt some of the rules, such as: - Always go out in pairs or more, and watch each other’s brass buttons. Do not imbibe enough to impair your judgement. Never kill a praying Mantis - its favourite food is the mosquito. Do not accept offers to introduce you to someone's sister. Do not buy a watch that you have not personally handled and carefully inspected. Keep away from the bootblacks, unless you want something blacked (not necessarily your boots). If someone seems to be trying to sell you a newspaper, which he waves in your face, keep one hand on your money and the other on your A.B.64 (document book) |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
Moascar, 25th November, 1945
My knees were now brown enough, so I organised a swimming party. One of the old sweats led the party to a lagoon-side spot where swimming trunks were on sale. I change into my new dark blue trunks, to join the bathers in the water. Meanwhile, those who were sunbathing looked after the KD uniforms, including the wallets and documents. When I came out, with my trunks dripping, they were light blue, and there were blue streaks down my legs. These I soon washed off in the lake after squeezing out my trunks to minimise recurrence. After the final drying off and changing back into KD's, I and another squaddy who claimed to have yachting experience, joined Nefisha Lagoon Yachting Club and booked a sloop for another day. My body was now light tan, without blue streaks, but my towel was khaki with bluish streaks, which, no doubt, would come out in the wash. |
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Former Member
Cruncher Joined: May 22, 2018 Post Count: 0 Status: Offline |
The El Kantara Adventure; 26th November 1945
----------------------------------------I was fed up with inactivity, so committed an indiscretion and broke an unwritten rule – “Volunteer for f*** all”- and was posted on attachment to El Kantara General Hospital as operating room assistant, but warned that I was liable to recall at any time if the field ambulance was put on standby for a further move. The job proved simple but demanding. Routinely, or during normal hours, the theatre nurse performed it while I watched and received instruction from the Theatre Sister. When there was an out-of-hours emergency, the guard woke me, and I dressed and went to theatre. I opened up the theatre, set the steriliser, loaded the instrument trays with appropriate instruments for the expected operation, an appendicectomy, and put them in the steriliser to boil while I prepared the theatre, checked the anaesthetic gases, put on a sterile gown, mask, gloves and cap and covered the trolleys with sterile towels. I then placed the instruments in the appropriate places on the lower towel. When I rechecked the instruments to ensure there was none missing, Sister arrived, took over and dismissed me, and I went back to my bed, which was below ground level in a bell tent. [Edit 1 times, last edit by Former Member at Nov 27, 2008 10:12:26 AM] |
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