The Wartime Memoirs of William Bonner
In 2011, my Grandfather Bill was asked by my Aunt Glynis to write out his experiences in the Second World War, which he did in a small black notebook. Grandad sadly passed away in March 2012, aged 90. Below I have transcribed his memoirs word for word complete with all of the photographs which he included in his tale. Please enjoy...
I. Hard Training and Harder Beans...
In the summer of 1939, the apprentices in the Cromwell Road garage decided to join the army, the branch being the Royal Artillery, a wise move we found because the government was starting to call up for military service and that meant a good chance of finishing up in the Infantry. So 6 or 7 of us decided to go to the recruiting depot in the Bullring.
The recruiting sergeant in the doorway waiting for us with his medals from the First World War and wearing a broad grin on his face. “Now then lads, what can I do for you?” We then explained to him that we all would like the 239 field artillery to be our next home, providing ALL of us joined the same Battery. “Of course”, he replied, “of course” – So we did – and we never met up again, only when the war was over. So that was the start of my Military Service by being mobilised for action and put on the train for Boarder very close to Aldershot.
The whole regiment wend down there and this was the place the under 19s were removed from the Reg. The reason for this was that the 239 Reg. was going to France. That’s why I and a few with me were left behind when the 239 Reg. sailed away.
My first meal in this huge dining room must have held 3 to 4 hundred squaddies all sat at tables arranged in squares with wooden frames against all 4 sides, which meant that there were 12 chaps to a table. After about 5 minutes into the meal two men, the orderly sergeant and the orderly officer appeared in the opposite corner standing to attention. The sergeant yelled “Eyes front- Orderly Officer!” There came an utter silence. The officer then said with a little squeaky voice “Are there any complaints?” Not one voice answered. So Silly Billy Bonner stood up and waited for the sergeant and officer to tread their way through all the tables and forms, must have been 10 minutes to reach me. “What’s wrong lady?” the sergeant said. “The beans are hard sir” With that the sergeant grabbed my fork and pressed hard on one single bean down on the plate. With that the bean shot off the plate across the table and shouted at me “they’re supposed to be like that!!” At that point I decided never to complain again.
II. ‘You’re in the bloody Sea!’...
After a week or two at Boarden I was transferred to an Ack Ack Regiment on the South Coast. I found myself in a Regiment that was a relief unit giving the gunners a break from being on duty night after night trying to keep the Luftwaffe at bay that covered most of the South Coast. There was one exception and that was when we found we were going to Spurn Head. The chaps in the mob were found in little groups saying “Where the hell is that?” When we came up here it was thick snow. The one thing I remember was a rabbit running around the area we were standing, but not for long. Two or three chaps built a file whilst the remainder caught the poor rabbit, and next an ex builder skinned it. There wasn’t much to go round but never the less it was nice!
After a few months I became 18 and this Regiment was chosen to be involved in the invasion of French North Africa. We had a lot of training to do for this job and this Battle unit was the 110 force. We went up to Loch Fyne in Scotland and spent quite some time in invasion barges practicing the art of getting off a TLC Tank landing craft without getting shot. We started practicing in the school playing field with a ship marked out with white wash on the ground. If the sergeant found you on the wrong side of the white line he would say “Are you feeling wet lady?” – Long pause – because the guy couldn’t answer the question the sergeant continued – “because you’re in the bloody sea!!” and so it went on. They also painted a ramp at this ships front and if you stood on the ‘ramp’ before the so called ramp had been lowered down the pretending skipper of the barge i.e. the sergeant went “Bananas” – the sergeant was a complete nut case. But for use it was not short of a first class West End Comedy.
After all this training we weren’t foot soldiers – we drove off in trucks and tanks! I was driving a gun tower – well back I might add, as Mamma would say when I was returning to my unit – “Don’t forget Bill Stand well back”. And so I did!!
In the summer of 1939, the apprentices in the Cromwell Road garage decided to join the army, the branch being the Royal Artillery, a wise move we found because the government was starting to call up for military service and that meant a good chance of finishing up in the Infantry. So 6 or 7 of us decided to go to the recruiting depot in the Bullring.
The recruiting sergeant in the doorway waiting for us with his medals from the First World War and wearing a broad grin on his face. “Now then lads, what can I do for you?” We then explained to him that we all would like the 239 field artillery to be our next home, providing ALL of us joined the same Battery. “Of course”, he replied, “of course” – So we did – and we never met up again, only when the war was over. So that was the start of my Military Service by being mobilised for action and put on the train for Boarder very close to Aldershot.
The whole regiment wend down there and this was the place the under 19s were removed from the Reg. The reason for this was that the 239 Reg. was going to France. That’s why I and a few with me were left behind when the 239 Reg. sailed away.
My first meal in this huge dining room must have held 3 to 4 hundred squaddies all sat at tables arranged in squares with wooden frames against all 4 sides, which meant that there were 12 chaps to a table. After about 5 minutes into the meal two men, the orderly sergeant and the orderly officer appeared in the opposite corner standing to attention. The sergeant yelled “Eyes front- Orderly Officer!” There came an utter silence. The officer then said with a little squeaky voice “Are there any complaints?” Not one voice answered. So Silly Billy Bonner stood up and waited for the sergeant and officer to tread their way through all the tables and forms, must have been 10 minutes to reach me. “What’s wrong lady?” the sergeant said. “The beans are hard sir” With that the sergeant grabbed my fork and pressed hard on one single bean down on the plate. With that the bean shot off the plate across the table and shouted at me “they’re supposed to be like that!!” At that point I decided never to complain again.
II. ‘You’re in the bloody Sea!’...
After a week or two at Boarden I was transferred to an Ack Ack Regiment on the South Coast. I found myself in a Regiment that was a relief unit giving the gunners a break from being on duty night after night trying to keep the Luftwaffe at bay that covered most of the South Coast. There was one exception and that was when we found we were going to Spurn Head. The chaps in the mob were found in little groups saying “Where the hell is that?” When we came up here it was thick snow. The one thing I remember was a rabbit running around the area we were standing, but not for long. Two or three chaps built a file whilst the remainder caught the poor rabbit, and next an ex builder skinned it. There wasn’t much to go round but never the less it was nice!
After a few months I became 18 and this Regiment was chosen to be involved in the invasion of French North Africa. We had a lot of training to do for this job and this Battle unit was the 110 force. We went up to Loch Fyne in Scotland and spent quite some time in invasion barges practicing the art of getting off a TLC Tank landing craft without getting shot. We started practicing in the school playing field with a ship marked out with white wash on the ground. If the sergeant found you on the wrong side of the white line he would say “Are you feeling wet lady?” – Long pause – because the guy couldn’t answer the question the sergeant continued – “because you’re in the bloody sea!!” and so it went on. They also painted a ramp at this ships front and if you stood on the ‘ramp’ before the so called ramp had been lowered down the pretending skipper of the barge i.e. the sergeant went “Bananas” – the sergeant was a complete nut case. But for use it was not short of a first class West End Comedy.
After all this training we weren’t foot soldiers – we drove off in trucks and tanks! I was driving a gun tower – well back I might add, as Mamma would say when I was returning to my unit – “Don’t forget Bill Stand well back”. And so I did!!
Digging in the photos I thought this one is a must. Cribbs Causeway Gunsite near Bristol, guarding Filton air strip and Blenheim Bomber Factory. Never mind my bum look at the furniture- home made bed and table. The bed was made from wood to burn on the fire. I made a rectangle frame from fire wood in fact! Put 4 logs- one at each corner and nailed empty sandbags across the frame and that was my bed. Without me and millions of others like me we’d all be in sh*t street – think on all you yong’ens and be thankful!
Oh I forgot – I’m stood in a biscuit tin to give my feet a once over! I washed out the tin, dried it thoroughly and put the biscuits back, nobody knew the difference. I had to explain that my mum sent me the whole tin – “which stop did did she use?” “come on” I said, “how should I know?” and so it went on!
Oh I forgot – I’m stood in a biscuit tin to give my feet a once over! I washed out the tin, dried it thoroughly and put the biscuits back, nobody knew the difference. I had to explain that my mum sent me the whole tin – “which stop did did she use?” “come on” I said, “how should I know?” and so it went on!
Of all the time we spent firing our 3.7 Ac Ac guns night after night we never hit one. Mind you we frightened a lot of ‘em off so I was told!!
Just remember while I was at Cribbs Causeway my officer came to me and said “I’ve got you a posting to the Far East, you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
It was an R.A. mob and a Liverpool Regiment at that. I carried all my gear in a kit bag, full marching order, and my bedding etc. Oh and rifle. The Reg, was going to the Far East, Singapore in fact. The very next day they found that I was underage – so they sent me back to Cribbs causeway. About two or three weeks later we British found that Singapore had been over run by the Japs. Wasn’t I one lucky boy!
Going up to Liverpool I had to change trains at Coventry. I remember passing Coventry Cathedral and noticing how magnificent it looked. When I made the return journey I passed the same spot and the Cathedral had been flattened. The German Blitz was responsible for that, still there is another one there now. But what a shame, I thought as I passed by a heap of rubble.
Just remember while I was at Cribbs Causeway my officer came to me and said “I’ve got you a posting to the Far East, you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
It was an R.A. mob and a Liverpool Regiment at that. I carried all my gear in a kit bag, full marching order, and my bedding etc. Oh and rifle. The Reg, was going to the Far East, Singapore in fact. The very next day they found that I was underage – so they sent me back to Cribbs causeway. About two or three weeks later we British found that Singapore had been over run by the Japs. Wasn’t I one lucky boy!
Going up to Liverpool I had to change trains at Coventry. I remember passing Coventry Cathedral and noticing how magnificent it looked. When I made the return journey I passed the same spot and the Cathedral had been flattened. The German Blitz was responsible for that, still there is another one there now. But what a shame, I thought as I passed by a heap of rubble.
Badge Butler. He became bomb happy while we were at Nursling on the outskirts of Filton Air Craft 60 Ltd – Now Bristol Airport. They made twin engine bombers – Blenheim bombers was their name. Badge was taken away, to hospital I think. I never saw him again.
III. The Tamborine Lockers...
In 1942 we boarded a Polish Liner – this ship was brand new and it happened to be in the UK when the war broke out. There wasn’t time to convert the ship to carry troops so we were in cabins. Just fancy that, 1st class cabin was where I was sleeping – all this ship had done were 2 or 3 trips to the states – it was heaven. We spent 2 or 3 weeks sailing round and round in circles at the mouth of the Med. Waiting for all the ships to muster ready for action. How we never got torpedoed I will never know. When it was time to go, the whole lot of us set sail for Algeria. There we transferred to two ex Dutch mail boats (Half of our unit one- half in the other). They were named the Queen Emma and the Princess Beatrice. These two ships had certainly seen some action the whole of the superstructure was peppered with holes from machine gun fire. Our destination was Bougie further along the coast. It must have been 80 to 100 miles eastward. Did we shift- I’d say.
Luckily the port had been captured by the ground force. We sailed into the port and stopped off just as if we had been on a pleasure trip. The front line was further eastward nearer Skikda. Lucky me!
The two ships had carried us from the Cylde to Algiers were the Battory (that was the ship i was on) and the other ship was named the Narkunda. The Narkunda went down AFTER it had discharged all the troops. In fact it was hit by plane and then sunk by torpedoes, in the Bay of Biscay going back home – sod it! As I said earlier all the troops had disembarked so the other half of the regiment was saved. One crew member on the Battory could speak fairly good English so I asked him where the toilets were. He said what do you want, to pee or do you want to use the Tamborine Lockers? How’s that for a new name to describe to have a number two!
In 1942 we boarded a Polish Liner – this ship was brand new and it happened to be in the UK when the war broke out. There wasn’t time to convert the ship to carry troops so we were in cabins. Just fancy that, 1st class cabin was where I was sleeping – all this ship had done were 2 or 3 trips to the states – it was heaven. We spent 2 or 3 weeks sailing round and round in circles at the mouth of the Med. Waiting for all the ships to muster ready for action. How we never got torpedoed I will never know. When it was time to go, the whole lot of us set sail for Algeria. There we transferred to two ex Dutch mail boats (Half of our unit one- half in the other). They were named the Queen Emma and the Princess Beatrice. These two ships had certainly seen some action the whole of the superstructure was peppered with holes from machine gun fire. Our destination was Bougie further along the coast. It must have been 80 to 100 miles eastward. Did we shift- I’d say.
Luckily the port had been captured by the ground force. We sailed into the port and stopped off just as if we had been on a pleasure trip. The front line was further eastward nearer Skikda. Lucky me!
The two ships had carried us from the Cylde to Algiers were the Battory (that was the ship i was on) and the other ship was named the Narkunda. The Narkunda went down AFTER it had discharged all the troops. In fact it was hit by plane and then sunk by torpedoes, in the Bay of Biscay going back home – sod it! As I said earlier all the troops had disembarked so the other half of the regiment was saved. One crew member on the Battory could speak fairly good English so I asked him where the toilets were. He said what do you want, to pee or do you want to use the Tamborine Lockers? How’s that for a new name to describe to have a number two!
IV. Africa...
We assembled and advanced East towards Tunisia, the whole unit together. After several days and closer to the front we decided to make camp near another RA Regiment which were using 4.55 m field guns, huge things they were and they were sighted along the side of a farm in front of a barn. Every time they fired several tiles would slide down onto the floor and around the gunners I heard one say to the other ‘we’ll be breaking some windows if we aren’t careful. By the day was out the complete barn was one heap of rubble without being Hit!
Spike Milligan was in this Regiment!
All the action was along the coast and we were going nearer to Tunisia – Eastward, nothing ever happens Southwards, Why you may ask? Because it was the Sahara. That’s why I was gobsmacked when this officer came to me and said, ‘Bonner, I want you to do a job for me. Will you just nip down to Camp Robert with this, and at that point he brought his hands from behind his back and presented me with a mass of pipe work and valves. “I want you to go to Can Robert and in the centre of town (By the way – all I had to defend myself with was a 303 rifle which I carried on my back) you’ll find a garage, go in and give them this” At that point he gave me this mass of tangled junk. The officer realises that that what it was, a load of junk. And that’s what I did. In fact it was part of a trucks air brakes mechanism I found later. It had been hit by a small shell! Evidently this guy must have known I was coming so he gladly took it off me with just half a smile! During the time the welder was repairing it quite a number of staff came up to us to see what was going on, French and Arabic!
That was quite something. I couldn’t speak French nor could they speak English – What a gabble! On the way back, that didn’t run very smoothly either, they gave me a rifle to carry round my shoulder, not a side arm life a revolver. Having gone some miles I noticed some fresh mud on the road but before I could apply any caution my bike slid from under me – there I was sliding on my back with my bike following me. My rifle took most of the damage.
I hadn’t gone very far when a woman waved me down to stop and to my surprise, gave me a pat on the back and a glass of Banana wine, nothing else – No kidding, al I wanted to do is to get back to my outfit. No matter where I stopped within a few minutes a small crown of Arabs crowded around me and my bike, tightly touching me and my uniform as if I wasn’t real – probable they hadn’t seen anyone dressed like I was – ever! Or was it my bike? The French woman who gave me the wine just came from no where all I remember was seeing a farm house in the distance. She must have been the farmers wife. The place we were looking after was an Airstrip
V. A cuppa with Jerry...
Our next stop was a series of small advances. Don’t forget whenever we were travelling, my truck was the last in the convoy just in case any vehicle broke down. Also, it carried the six cylinders toilet and since we slept in our vehicles – so it had to be unloaded and guess what –the Tamborine lockers or the six cylinders toilets had to come off. When the six cylinder toilets came off they were dumped anywhere to be erected in the following morning. Unfortunately some dim wit would use tem before a pit had been dug, so when the proper site had been agreed upon four chaps would go to the four corners of the six cylinder toilet and march of to the newly dug pit. Guess what? You’ve got it! Six piles of ‘you know what’ Desert Roses (turds) were shooting up all over the place. So before anything was done all the s**t had to be buried. ‘Will they ever learn?’ It was a well known law amongst us all out there that you never had a poo without taking a spade with you! Another trip was interesting, the coastal road had been mined so we had to go over the Atlas Mountains. I was driving an AEC Materdor (Gun towing vehicle). Some distance up the mountains we noticed young children hanging from under the back of the trucks in front and what they were doing was cutting the mud flaps to make footwear. Kind of sandles so by the time we’d got over the mountains the four gun towers had all lost – in total – sixteen mudflaps. Now explain that to the Sergeant Major!! In fact, I did. He said to me “Why didn’t you clear ‘em off? I ask you going up mountains – no white lines & sheer drop one side of the road and children running and swinging from under the truck in front. Never mind – nothing was said or done.
Dashing from the west, we – the 110th and the 8th Army from the East pushed Jerry to Cap Bon. Into the sea, well nearly. Take a look at a map and you’ll understand. We were parked up and Jerries came towards us exhausted, one particular young lad came to me. Before he said a word I just stuck a mug of tea in his hand, he was about 15. Why can’t we just sort these disagreements out by talking instead of killing each other?
A chance in a million!
V1. Sweet as arseholes...
Because we did so well, the big wigs gave us a break by driving to SOUISSE, a very nice resort to have a wash down and a swim. While we were swimming, 10 to 20 Yanks walked along the prom, they were all girls giggling like heck!! They certainly took their time passing! Just imagine the commotion – lots of rude remarks I’ll say!
On that coastline we boarded invasion barges to invade Sicily – I remember we had to delay the action for 24 hours because of the weather. The sea was far too rough. We were in TLCs, these things were ok at full speed in deep water, but sailing in deep water so many of us were sick. Anyway we got on the beach and under cover but after 24/48 hours I caught Malaria, a mobile generator wouldn’t start, we dragged it into a ditch and I worked on it where it was but I couldn’t start it. The next thing I knew I was on a stretcher on an air strip with a label attached to my collar. I couldn’t read it because it was under my chin! That worried me because all I could see was lots of other guys on stretchers with labels attached! Eventually a DC3 plane came close to us. Within 5 to 10 minutes it was loaded with wounded chaps ready to fly to Malta. That was my contribution to the invasion of Sicily! Incidentally Malaria was written on my label.
*You must understand, as I’m writing this book, I suddenly remember things that happened and said. When we sailed down the Med to invade the Bugie we were equipped to invade the place but when we got there the infantry had already taken the place and as we ‘invaded’ the place for the second time there were young boys with handcarts filled up with fruit shouting “Orangie! Orangie!’ - sweet as arseholes!. The infantry evidently had ‘got’ to them before us and told them what to shout!!! It was one big laugh!
The Hospital was under canvas at St Peters bay, I was here quite some time. Malta was absolutely flattened hardly a building standing/. That’s why the hospital was under canvas. I got well enough to get released from Hospital and they put me on a ship at Valletta which took me back to Sicily – the port of Catania to be exact! And then on a trail to Messina. The drawing of me on a box car on the previous page is the truth: The train was creeping along and at this crossing I saw one of our trucks standing there. I promptly gathered up my gear and leapt out of moving train right in front of our trucks. The truck driver nearly had a fit!! And that is how I got back to my Regiment.
Nobody asked me where I had been for the last few months…
Here is another interesting thing that happened as we disembarked in Algeria to board the two Dutch sail boats. We were ordered to put in our kit bags everything that wasn’t needed in the front line as an active soldier. I had thermal clothes (not knowing what climate we were to expect), plenty of general clothing and one prize model of a Formula 1 Auto union car – if I had it now it would be valued at well over five hundred quid – it was beautiful. That went into by kitbag as well. Never being in this situation before, I was not to know that I wasn’t to see my kitbag again. All those kit bags were left on the quayside as we sailed away. Each time I see the Formula 1 races I think of this beautiful car and nearly cry! I also wonder who the hell got hold of all that gear,.
VII. – Spaghetti, Scots and fixing the leaning tower...
Our next project – getting over to Italy was a piece of cake. Remember I told you there were four Batteries to a Regiment. Well it wasn’t our turn to invade the next country in the war, it was one of the other three. So because of that we just sailed into Taranto on the heel of Italy. But there was one job to do and that was to defend Foggia – the Airport. The Yanks used it as an air base and flew to Germany on bombing raids.
Because we did so well, the big wigs gave us a break by driving to SOUISSE, a very nice resort to have a wash down and a swim. While we were swimming, 10 to 20 Yanks walked along the prom, they were all girls giggling like heck!! They certainly took their time passing! Just imagine the commotion – lots of rude remarks I’ll say!
On that coastline we boarded invasion barges to invade Sicily – I remember we had to delay the action for 24 hours because of the weather. The sea was far too rough. We were in TLCs, these things were ok at full speed in deep water, but sailing in deep water so many of us were sick. Anyway we got on the beach and under cover but after 24/48 hours I caught Malaria, a mobile generator wouldn’t start, we dragged it into a ditch and I worked on it where it was but I couldn’t start it. The next thing I knew I was on a stretcher on an air strip with a label attached to my collar. I couldn’t read it because it was under my chin! That worried me because all I could see was lots of other guys on stretchers with labels attached! Eventually a DC3 plane came close to us. Within 5 to 10 minutes it was loaded with wounded chaps ready to fly to Malta. That was my contribution to the invasion of Sicily! Incidentally Malaria was written on my label.
*You must understand, as I’m writing this book, I suddenly remember things that happened and said. When we sailed down the Med to invade the Bugie we were equipped to invade the place but when we got there the infantry had already taken the place and as we ‘invaded’ the place for the second time there were young boys with handcarts filled up with fruit shouting “Orangie! Orangie!’ - sweet as arseholes!. The infantry evidently had ‘got’ to them before us and told them what to shout!!! It was one big laugh!
The Hospital was under canvas at St Peters bay, I was here quite some time. Malta was absolutely flattened hardly a building standing/. That’s why the hospital was under canvas. I got well enough to get released from Hospital and they put me on a ship at Valletta which took me back to Sicily – the port of Catania to be exact! And then on a trail to Messina. The drawing of me on a box car on the previous page is the truth: The train was creeping along and at this crossing I saw one of our trucks standing there. I promptly gathered up my gear and leapt out of moving train right in front of our trucks. The truck driver nearly had a fit!! And that is how I got back to my Regiment.
Nobody asked me where I had been for the last few months…
Here is another interesting thing that happened as we disembarked in Algeria to board the two Dutch sail boats. We were ordered to put in our kit bags everything that wasn’t needed in the front line as an active soldier. I had thermal clothes (not knowing what climate we were to expect), plenty of general clothing and one prize model of a Formula 1 Auto union car – if I had it now it would be valued at well over five hundred quid – it was beautiful. That went into by kitbag as well. Never being in this situation before, I was not to know that I wasn’t to see my kitbag again. All those kit bags were left on the quayside as we sailed away. Each time I see the Formula 1 races I think of this beautiful car and nearly cry! I also wonder who the hell got hold of all that gear,.
VII. – Spaghetti, Scots and fixing the leaning tower...
Our next project – getting over to Italy was a piece of cake. Remember I told you there were four Batteries to a Regiment. Well it wasn’t our turn to invade the next country in the war, it was one of the other three. So because of that we just sailed into Taranto on the heel of Italy. But there was one job to do and that was to defend Foggia – the Airport. The Yanks used it as an air base and flew to Germany on bombing raids.
Foggia Air Port, Italy. EX R.A drivers learning to drive a Churchill Tank
I was minding the Tent!
These photos you see are of the air base and the remains of German air craft. We used part of the base to practice driving armoured vehicles. Since we belonged to the 40 RTR (Tanks).
I must point out that the war office decided to disband our regiment and put the gunners in the infantry, but me being a tradesman was drafted into the 40th Royal Tank Regiment to repaid armoured vehicles. Can you imagine how hot a tank can get left in the sun all day and then having to work inside it? – Yes it sure was. By the way my title was Trooper.
The American 5th Army, advancing up the West coast of Italy asked for tank support so the 40th Tanks crossed over from East to West of Italy passing through Aquila and Rieti and hitting Rome. We made up a vehicle workshop and employed civic motor mechanics who were lots of laughs. It was a break from fighting. Bu the way the Italian government decided to change sides so at this very time we were in Roma they were on our side!! How thoughtful of them wasn’t it?
I must point out that the war office decided to disband our regiment and put the gunners in the infantry, but me being a tradesman was drafted into the 40th Royal Tank Regiment to repaid armoured vehicles. Can you imagine how hot a tank can get left in the sun all day and then having to work inside it? – Yes it sure was. By the way my title was Trooper.
The American 5th Army, advancing up the West coast of Italy asked for tank support so the 40th Tanks crossed over from East to West of Italy passing through Aquila and Rieti and hitting Rome. We made up a vehicle workshop and employed civic motor mechanics who were lots of laughs. It was a break from fighting. Bu the way the Italian government decided to change sides so at this very time we were in Roma they were on our side!! How thoughtful of them wasn’t it?
Us being in Rome didn’t last very long, the front line was moving North rather quickly now within a month or two we weeks at Lucca and Pisa. Now this is what one would say beautiful countryside. It was superb. We took over a new school in Lucca and people were pleasant and appearing with a smile on their faces. One day I was on my own at the front gate of the school when a woman stopped in front of me and asked if I would like to go to her house with her family and have a meal with them. ‘Yes’ was the answer as quickly as I could possibly say the word. She was 60 years old about, her husband was a POW somewhere in Europe.
The Meal was cracking! Spaghetti with boiled chestnuts, naturally with tomatoes and all the trimmings. She was a Scot! And married an Italian before the war started. How nice of her, I thought – cooking the meal, I mean. Lucca was a lovely place – it had a huge central square and after their evening meal it seemed all the inhabitants came out to stroll leisurely around the square in slow time, smiling and chatting to each other – how civilised it all seemed amongst the war that we’d been through?
Since Pisa was fairly close by I had to take a shafty at the Leaning Tower which we had spent an afternoon trying to square it up, but to no avail. But to say again, this area of Italy is very Beautiful. But strange as it may seem, Mussolini was strung up feet first up a lamp post close to Lucca, He chose a nice spot to snuff it, I must say!
A wonderful video of Bill in July 2007, describing his experiences in Italy can be seen below. Many thanks to John Wakefield for the video.
The Meal was cracking! Spaghetti with boiled chestnuts, naturally with tomatoes and all the trimmings. She was a Scot! And married an Italian before the war started. How nice of her, I thought – cooking the meal, I mean. Lucca was a lovely place – it had a huge central square and after their evening meal it seemed all the inhabitants came out to stroll leisurely around the square in slow time, smiling and chatting to each other – how civilised it all seemed amongst the war that we’d been through?
Since Pisa was fairly close by I had to take a shafty at the Leaning Tower which we had spent an afternoon trying to square it up, but to no avail. But to say again, this area of Italy is very Beautiful. But strange as it may seem, Mussolini was strung up feet first up a lamp post close to Lucca, He chose a nice spot to snuff it, I must say!
A wonderful video of Bill in July 2007, describing his experiences in Italy can be seen below. Many thanks to John Wakefield for the video.
This is inside a rest camp in Rome, 43/44? It had an outdoor swimming pool and round it, it had statues all around the pool of Roman dignitaries. I had my photograph in front of one of them posing exactly the same as the statue was posing. Somebody within the family either forgot to return it or nicked it! The Rotter!! It could have been Mamma! If so, you’ve every right to have it! Bless Mamma!
VIII. Home, war and home again...
I don’t think we went much further North in Italy before a Civil War (whilst the Germans were there) broke out amongst the Greeks. In Greece with a common enemy, the Germans amongst it all. What a tatar that was, you didn’t know where you were half the time. You just learned to keep your head down most of the time.
Piraeus is the port of Athens, and when we landed by ship, we still had TLC’s with us. So in all our vehicles, we drove right to the top of Greece to the borders of Bulgaria to Salonika. This was mainly used as a holiday resort, so we billeted in holiday homes, very nice too!
Me – now in a tank – had very little to do. No tank battles to contend with and troops were going home and we were getting the feeling that this flipping war was coming to a close. But first troops who had been out here and were due for some leave, and by now we came into that category. So Bill Bonner, who had won the war for you lot was due to be flown home from Via Rome from somewhere in Greece (cannot remember) in an American Liberator four engine bomber to Rome, Italy – change to a four engine Lancaster Bomber and drop down close to Norwich, came down to Cleethorpes by trail, walked down Blundell Avenue, saw Mamma washing the windows along with Nancy – where all three of us started crying.
I spent a month at home and then went back to Naples. Where my mob was, then onto Greece – Salonika where we kept the peace between the two factions. Nothing worth writing about because us being there quelled the uprising.
In the end it was my turn to go home and get discharged. We left Greece and sailed to Marseille, France where trucks were waiting to pick us up and drive to Calais to catch the ferry to Blighty and home. The journey across France was horrific. The young filler must have broken every speed limit that he came to. I thought of everything that I had gone through in the last few years and survived, and here I was going to die. But no, we got to Dover and were driven to Woking and then discharged.
I don’t think we went much further North in Italy before a Civil War (whilst the Germans were there) broke out amongst the Greeks. In Greece with a common enemy, the Germans amongst it all. What a tatar that was, you didn’t know where you were half the time. You just learned to keep your head down most of the time.
Piraeus is the port of Athens, and when we landed by ship, we still had TLC’s with us. So in all our vehicles, we drove right to the top of Greece to the borders of Bulgaria to Salonika. This was mainly used as a holiday resort, so we billeted in holiday homes, very nice too!
Me – now in a tank – had very little to do. No tank battles to contend with and troops were going home and we were getting the feeling that this flipping war was coming to a close. But first troops who had been out here and were due for some leave, and by now we came into that category. So Bill Bonner, who had won the war for you lot was due to be flown home from Via Rome from somewhere in Greece (cannot remember) in an American Liberator four engine bomber to Rome, Italy – change to a four engine Lancaster Bomber and drop down close to Norwich, came down to Cleethorpes by trail, walked down Blundell Avenue, saw Mamma washing the windows along with Nancy – where all three of us started crying.
I spent a month at home and then went back to Naples. Where my mob was, then onto Greece – Salonika where we kept the peace between the two factions. Nothing worth writing about because us being there quelled the uprising.
In the end it was my turn to go home and get discharged. We left Greece and sailed to Marseille, France where trucks were waiting to pick us up and drive to Calais to catch the ferry to Blighty and home. The journey across France was horrific. The young filler must have broken every speed limit that he came to. I thought of everything that I had gone through in the last few years and survived, and here I was going to die. But no, we got to Dover and were driven to Woking and then discharged.
This was sent to Peter, my brother via Mamma at 76 Blundell Avenue. She sent it to Iceland where the 4 Lines Regiment was stationed. It was a skiing Regiment and you are skiing all day and every day. They told me he was pretty good at it too! Peter is underneath the jeep – see him?
I think that one Infantry invaded Norway when Jerry occupied the country – so we occupied Icelend just for the hell of it.
I think that one Infantry invaded Norway when Jerry occupied the country – so we occupied Icelend just for the hell of it.
Things weren’t looking very rosy at 40/41, here’s a mixture of drivers, cooks, batmen and me listening to the BBC news at the time of the evacuation of Dunkirk. The gun site we were on was Nursling- somewhere around Bristol.