Part 11 Back to North Africa Again

We set sail from Naples harbour, and headed south for North Africa. Before we came into view of the coastline, we ran into a swarm of locusts, which must have been blown off course. The sea was covered with them, and on deck they snapped and crackled underfoot.

Our disembarkation point was Djidjelli, a small port on the east side of Algiers. Transport took us out to a small camp about 2 miles from the town, and we were given tents in which to live. The camp had been vacated by its previous occupants but in each tent they had left their beds which consisted of pieces of wood driven into the ground and stretched across the top was a Summerfield tracking. This tracking was like reinforces wire netting which was put down on beaches to stop vehicles sinking into the soft sand. They made comfortable beds, and it was a comfort to get above ground level, on which to rest.

After a few days I took a walk into Djidelli, but it was a small town and there wasn’t much to be seen, so I went into a barber’s for a haircut. I asked for a short back and sides, and the old Frenchman eventually understood, as he had a smattering of English, and I remembered some of my schoolboy French. He asked me where I had served, and when I told him I had just come back from Italy, he told me that his son was in Italy fighting with the Free French forces. He then told me that he was looking after his grandson and his daughter-in-law while his son was away.

I had a few squares of chocolate of my ration left which I had meant to eat on my way back into the camp. I gave them to him for his grandson and the old chap was quite overcome, as chocolate was very hard to come by. He then told me that he was shutting shop soon, and that he would be delighted if I would stay and have tea with his family. The house was over the shop, and he took me up to meet his wife, and grandson. His daughter-in-law was out at work somewhere, and I didn’t meet her.

The meal was bread, with salad, and cheese, with wine, and it made a nice change from our usual fare. He invited me to come back and visit him the next time I was in town, and I went on my way back to the camp, thinking I had done a little bit towards the Entente Cordiale.

My rank had been upgraded from ordinary telegraphist to telegraphist at Naples, and we were told now to get into the Naval barracks at Algiers and take the exam for leading telegraphist. When we got into the barracks one of the petty officers told us that those who passed for the leading rank were to be sent out to the far east to fight the Japs. I obtained sufficient marks in the exam to get the leasing telegraphist grade, but I declined the offer with thanks, and took the telegraphist trained operator grade which meant getting an additional star on the telegraphists badge, instead of two which it would have been for the Leading Tel’s grade. I preferred to go back home instead of going out further east, even at the expense of promotion.

My pal A.J. Godfrey passed the test for Leading Signalman, and some time later he was instructed to get out to the local airport, and catch a plane to take him further east. He was limited with his weight of luggage, and gave me his boot brushes to reduce his amount. These were very good brushes and are still in use more than forty years on. They have his name stamped on them so they have been good souvenirs.

After the exams were completed, we were allowed out of the Algiers barracks to have a look around the place, but were warned not to enter the kasbah (the native quarter). A few of the lads did, and when they came back to camp, they told us stories of exceptional things a woman had done with bottles, and with a mule, in a club they had visited. We saw one of the official red lamp premises, and the women were sat on a bench just inside the door which was open, as it was very hot. They had on so much makeup plastered on their faces it would have been difficult to identify their features. We carried on to the bazaars, where everything was done by haggling over the price, but we didn’t get very much as we didn’t know how we were going to be fixed for transport in the future.

A few days after the trip to Algiers we were all turned out of our tents, and they were all searched for an officer’s missing bedroll. It was never found, and it was believed that Arabs must have sneaked in, and out with it, although how they did it was a mystery, as the camp had a guard at the gate, and the perimeter fence, which did not appear to be cut anywhere, was continually patrolled.

Part 10 Back to Naples

We were allowed to keep the jeep, and used it to travel down south, back to Naples. We went to the fort in Naples harbour, but were redirected to a big house on the outskirts of Naples which was to be our unit’s base.

As the drinking water was obtained from wells, we had been given a supply of tablets to put in the water before it was drunk. The tablet gave the water an unpleasant taste, but most of us followed instructions. One of my friends, John Liggins, wouldn’t use them, and to my sorrow I heard that he had been taken in to Naples hospital, and died of typhoid fever. I wrote a letter to his mother, and she wrote back inviting me to visit her when I got leave. She lived at Irthlingboro, near Wellingborough, but I never did go and see her in case it reopened old wounds.

Living in the house was good, but it meant that we had to assume greater responsibility for our safety and equipment, and had to take turns at doing guard duty. Everything was in such short supply, including food, that it had to be watched or it disappeared.

After about a fortnight we were told to leave the jeep, were given a white scout car, which is a half-track, armoured vehicle, and make our way very quickly up to Rimini on the North East coast of Italy. There we were to link up with the Princess Patricia Canadian Light Infantry. They had run into strong German resistance and had asked for Naval bombardment support.

We drove up almost non-stop, and we each took a turn at the driving. I had only driven my father’s Morris 10 for a few months before being called up, but I consoled myself with the fact that if we hit anything they would be worse off, as we were heavily armour-plated, unless it was a tank.

We arrived at Rimini safely, and contacted the Canadians, who we found were right into the town.

They told us that a warship had appeared off the coastline the day previous, and shortly afterwards the Germans had packed their bags and left, so that our services were not required. They kindly shared their rations with us, and then we returned back south again to Naples in a much more leisurely fashion, to report back to base.

After returning to the unit at Naples, and getting everything straightened up, a few of us decided to explore the surrounding countryside. Vesuvius had erupted some months previously and we were told of a village called Pollena Trochia, which had been almost completely buried under the lava. We went to have a look, and most of the houses were buried, but the top of the church was still sticking up through all the ash. I thought it rather symbolic, the cross above the fire, and brimstone.

Even although the visit was made several months after the eruption, the heat from the ash could be felt through the soles of the boots.

Shortly after this trip we were directed to pack up all our gear, make our way down to Naples docks, and wait for a small merchant ship to take us back to North Africa

Part 9 The Battle of Anzio

We spent a few days in the comfort of our foxhole waiting on our orders to make our way triumphantly up to Rome, when suddenly there was a mighty big thump, and earth and grass flew all over the place. So did I down the foxhole. This was the first of many.

There was a range of hills overlooking the place where we had stopped, and the Germans had brought up their heavy artillery and now were going show us what good gunners they were. Somebody took pity on us, gave us a jeep and told us to move down to the town of Nettuno, which was also in the beachhead. We found a big house, mostly occupied with American military police, but there were two rooms spare on the top floor which they let us have.

We very soon found out why the rooms had been left empty, as Nettuno was also being blasted by the German artillery, and it was safer on the ground or first floor, than on the top floor. I found a single bed on the top floor, abandoned by its owner, and it was luxurious to get on it at night, securely wrapped in my single blanket even if the house did shake occasionally. (Friendly with American M.P. Tin of sardines for army blanket.)

We were ordered to use the jeep and get ourselves, and equipment up to a two-storey farmhouse which was on the front line, and use the upstairs as an observation post. The captain gave us map references which we transmitted back to the supporting warship, and soon the shells were screaming over our heads towards the Germans. They must have realised that the farmhouse was being used as an observation post, because they started shelling it with great fury, and everything started to shake and rattle, including my knees and teeth. We hurriedly made our way downstairs, and there was a unit of the London Scottish, newly arrived in there as well. One young soldier was in a corner crying for his mother, and scraping at the wall with his fingernails. A sergeant took him out the back but I don’t know what became of him, as we had to go back upstairs again when there was a lull in the shelling, and carry on with the bombardment.

We did this intermittently as required using different observation posts, and eventually contact was made by land with the 5^th Army on the 25^th May. The frigate “Penelope” was sunk off Anzio on 18/2/44 by a radio-controlled bomb from a German aeroplane, and some of the survivors stayed at our house until taken back to Naples by sea.

Part 8 Pompeii and Anzio

After a few days we ventured further afield and went on a trip to the ruins of Pompeii. Pompeii had been a retreat for the rich, the houses were elaborate with murals, gardens, and pools, and was sited about 12 miles from Naples at the base of Vesuvius. In 79 AD there had been a violent eruption, and the place was buried under ash, and white-hot lava, with the loss of about twenty thousand lives.

Legend had it, that the city had been destroyed because of its sinful ways, and a close look around the properties exposed, could lead one to understand the reasons for this suggestion. On street corners where relevant, the house walls had a penis carved on the walls pointing in the direction of the brothel. Inside the brothel there were several little cubicles, and above the entrance door to each cubicle, was the painting of a girl in the position in which she practiced her art.

Various shops, the Forum, Temple and museum were also on view, and the streets were straight and narrow. The grooves left by the chariot wheels could still be seen along the roadways. Our guide took us into one big house where a large painting was kept hidden behind a locked door and he told us it was for viewing by men only. The drawing was of a man who had a very large penis which was resting on one side of a pair of scales, and on the other side he was placing gold bars.

In the museum were several plaster casts taken of people whose bodies had left spaces in the ash and they were all in hunched up positions, with their arms over their faces, no doubt for protection. It must have been a horrible death.

We spent several more weeks at the fort, and then one day we were told to be ready to leave at short notice. This meant checking all our equipment, writing any letters that were due, and getting our smalls washed.

Marching orders came, and we were taken to the docks to embark on a troopship, where we found we were going to serve with the Scots Guards. I wandered around the permitted parts of the ship, and I found two lads whom I knew, both from Kelloholm, Kirkconnel. They were called Andrew McMinn, and Jimmy Boyle. I had been at school with Jimmy’s younger sister, Lizzie and Andrew’s younger brother, Jim. The McMinn family were keen bagpipe players and we could often hear them being played in my family home, particularly by the father who was in the local pipe band.

The troopship stopped a few miles from the coastline and we were told that our landing was going to be at a place called Anzio. We scrambled down the nets into the landing craft, and set off for our destination

When we got to the beach everything was silent, and in the darkness appeared to be completely deserted. We marched a few miles inland and then were told to dig ourselves in. Fortunately the ground was fairly soft and soon we had a foxhole that no fox would have been ashamed of, made by using a trenching tool with which we had been supplied. This was on 22-1-44.

We learned that this beachhead had been made to try and get the Germans to leave Monte Cassino which was an abbey on top of a mountain, further south, so that we were now behind it, and the Germans’ line.

The Germans had made the abbey into a fortress, and despite repeated bombing raids by the R.A.F. and assaults by the Allied troops, held grimly on. They were not dislodged from this position until the 18^th May 1944.

It was an American general who was in charge of the Anzio beachhead, and instead of dashing north to take Rome a few miles up the road, he decided to stay in the beachhead and build up supplies of men and arms before moving any further.

This cautious attitude may have been caused by a landing which had been made at Salerno, a few weeks previously, and it very nearly was a disaster. It was because of air force superiority that they were able to break out of the beachhead, before the Germans had pushed them back into the sea. A member of one of our bombardment teams was killed in the operation, by one of our planes dropping its bombs on our lines, instead of on the Germans, as the operations were changing so swiftly.

Part 7 To Africa and Back to Italy

We disembarked at Sousse, a port on the North African coastline, which was very much shattered by the recent fighting. On the way into the port, there were ships’ hulks sticking out of the water, and the harbour installations appeared to have been devastated. There were teams of naval craftsmen working on repairing the damage, and it must have been a hot and sweaty job as the sun was blazing down.

We were billeted in a ruin of a house, the roof of which was open in parts, and there was no furniture about the place at all. We each picked ourselves a corner in a room, in which we dumped all our equipment, and at night wrapped up in a blanket, and lay on the beautifully tiled floor, and admired the heavenly constellations, and thought of home.

We got a lot of mail sent to us at the time, which had been building up in North Africa, while we were in Sicily, and amongst letters from my mother, and Helen, there was also a gift parcel from the W.V.S. Inside there were socks, and a recorder, which was much appreciated. I was able to squat in my corner, and tootle on the recorder, rather quietly in case any of the local snakes accepted it as an invitation to come into the house.

For many years afterwards I astounded my family with my rendition of “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine”, which up to that time had been a wartime favourite.

After a few weeks in Sousse, we were put on a tank landing craft, which was a big landing craft capable of carrying several tanks, and their crews, and we headed across the Mediterranean once again for Italy. About halfway across we ran into a violent storm, and the ship shook and trembled so much, we were afraid it was going to split, and sink. This had happened to several of the so called “Liberty” ships, which ships had been made up by prefabricating the various parts, inland in America, sending the parts to a Naval shipyard, and sticking the parts together, for launching.

We were very glad when the Italian coastline came into view, and the peak of Vesuvius was prominent on the horizon. The volcano had been in eruption, but appeared to be quiet when we arrived in Naples harbour.

A large fort called Fort Delloro, projected into the harbour, and was linked to the mainland by a long causeway. We collected all our gear from the ship, and marched into the fort. Sentries at the gate examined all our identity chits and paperwork, then let us pass through to take up quarters in what appeared to be a semi-dungeon.

There were various bits of metalwork, and hooks projecting from the walls but it may possibly have been used as a storeroom in the past, as it was a very old building. The flagged floor was not so comfortable to sleep on as the tiled floor at Sousse, but we eventually got used to the ridges, by sleeping on our sides, and letting them fit into the bodily contours.

We were allowed out the fort the following day, and took a walk in to have a look around Naples. The main street was very busy and looked impressive, but this was just a façade. The back streets were filthy, and the houses mostly appeared to be run down or derelict.

Several times little boys came up to us and said, “You want a girl Johnny, me got nice sister, very clean, very cheap”, but we declined all their offers.

We had been warned before leaving the fort that the Germans on their retreat Northwards had injected some women, who thinking it was for their benefit, to prevent disease, had been injected with venereal disease. This had been effective in disabling a lot of troops, and caused as many casualties as a regiment would have caused in battle. When news reached England a woman M.P. asked Parliament (Reported in the Forces newspaper) that it be made a law that men returning from the Middle East should be made to wear some distinguishing mark, so that everyone would know that they were possibly affected by the disease. This was turned down, but it was agreed that any man who caught venereal disease should stay abroad until he was cured. This was a big incentive to stay celibate.

On the way back to the fort we found some people rummaging amongst the bins which were waiting for collection on the causeway. Food was so desperately short that they were trying to find something to eat amongst the troops’ leftovers.

Part 6 Augusta

After some days encampment we were told to get kitted up again for some more action further up the coast. We boarded a ship called the Ulster Monarch, and headed for the town of Augusta. This town should have been taken by the Durham Light Infantry, but they had met fierce opposition, and had been pushed out again, by German troops.

When we got into Augusta harbour, all hell was let loose, and we were subjected to heavy gunfire from the roof tops of the houses, on the occupied side of the harbour. The boat couldn’t stop but moved slowly backwards and forwards, firing at shore targets.

We scrambled down the nets on the quiet side of the ship on to a landing craft getting protection from the ship.

The landing craft couldn’t go all the way into the beach, as there were a lot of slippery looking rocks sticking out of the water. I took the wireless set off my back, and carried it in my hands, as I didn’t fancy being weighed down by it if I slipped into the water. I did slip into the water, but was able to place the wireless on a rock above water level as I went down. Several of the lads nearby were picked off by snipers bullets, and I did not see them again.

On landing on the shore, we were mustered together, and then the soldiers started fighting their way around the town from house to house. My wireless was set up on the flat roof of a house, and progress messages sent to the ship. Opposition was a lot stiffer than previous, as in this engagement, we were fighting Germans.

The town was cleared by the following morning and the troops did a bit of searching around in the premises for anything they fancied. In the previous engagement at Syracuse, a pianolo had been found, which was thought to be suitable for the officers mess on board ship. It had been pushed down to the harbour, but when it was found to be too big to be ferried out to the ship, it was just pushed off the harbour wall.

Admiral Troutbridge, who was in charge of the operation, and on board the “Ulster Monarch”, congratulated the troops on their success in capturing the town of Augusta. We returned to the ship, and shortly we found to our dismay that we were sailing back towards North Africa.

The Germans were driven out of Sicily by the combined forces of the British, American and Canadian troops by the 7^th August 1943.

Mussolini, the Italian leader, had believed that Hitler was a certainty to win the war, and he had declared war on the Allies on the 10^th June 1940.

Churchill regarded him as a bombastic hanger-on, and called him “the bullfrog of the Pontine Marshes.” Mussolini was eventually to find that he had made a very big mistake.

Part 5 Operation "Husky" - Night 9/10 July 1943

On 8-7-43, we set sail at night and slipped out of port in darkness, and the buzz soon got round that our destination was Sicily. When the officers had been briefed on the master plan, they got their own men together, and told them what their part of the operation would be. We were ordered to land at Cape Muro di Porco, which is a little cape that is on the bottom right hand side of the island, near Syracuse. We were also given wireless frequencies, and call signs, and told that three gunboats would provide navel bombardment if required. Our allocated gunboat was called “the Scarab”.

Gliders containing troops had been sent in before the main seaborne attack, and some of them had come down in the sea. It was dark, when we came near the coastline, and we could hear the troops shouting for help, but the landing craft just carried on to the beach head. I heard later, that the glider pilots had taken evasive action to avoid all the flak being shot up at them, got lost, and came down in the sea. The pilots who survived were returned to America, and courtmartialled.

Our particular part of the beachhead was very quiet and there was not a soul in sight, much to our great relief. We had landed at H-4, meaning four hours before the main assault, and the L.R.D.G. troops had to march inland, to create a wide safe beachhead, in which the main force, with armament, and stores could be landed. It started to get light, and we started to encounter opposition. The captain gave us a position to transmit to the ship, but to our horror the shells landed behind us. We quickly sent them a signal to stop shooting, and the captain rechecked his figures, and said they were correct, but for safety’s sake he added a few hundred yards on, and when the ship started firing again, the shells roared over our heads towards the enemy. The captain said that we were shooting at a concentration of troops and transports which appeared to be Italian. When the ranging shots came close to the target the captain ordered us to send a message to the ship to fire broadsides, which it did.

The devastation which this caused was too much for the Italians, and they were surrendering in large numbers.

We marched a lot of them to a prisoner of war camp which had been put up near the landing point, and some of them kindly offered to carry my wireless set. One of the Italian soldiers told a British soldier guarding them that the safety catch was fastened on his rifle, and it would slow him down in firing if he tried to escape. They all thought it was a great joke. A lot of the Italians could speak English with an American accent, as they had been to the States, got some money, and then returned home. They were glad to be taken prisoner.

It was a rural area, and the housing left a lot to be desired. They were two storey but their animals were kept on the ground floor, and the family lived above. There was no running water, and drawn, as required from wells. All bodily functions were done in the vineyards, which no doubt helped the crops.

Two women wearing Red Cross armbands were seen hanging around the camp, and we assumed that they were Red Cross workers. We heard later that they had set up business in a barn, as comforts for the troops, and that the badge was a sign of purity. The story went round that a queue had formed, amongst them the padre but this may have been a soldiers joke. We had gone fishing using captured Italian hand grenades.