Lance-Corporal Godfrey A. Yardley

Unit : No.18 Platoon, "B" Company, 2nd Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry

Army No : 14654596

The following is Godfrey Yardley's account of his experiences during the War, Godfrey's Memoirs: A Village Lad Goes to War.

Airborne Forces

Comrades

You belong to an exclusive club - unique in every sense

None can buy a place in the membership - that list was closed long since

And vacancies will not occur (although your ranks will thin)

As time's own "reaper" plucks out random "founders" from within.

Dedication

I dedicate these memoirs to all my comrades with whom I served during my four years service, they cover many who were close friends, and to me in my mind were indeed "A Band of Brothers". I am proud to say it was an honour and privilege to have known them, I am also proud to have been given the privilege to have worn the maroon beret of British Airborne Forces.

It would be remiss of me not to include the RAF pilots who converted to glider Pilots, to the RAF Tug Pilots, and last but not least, the Glider Pilot Regiment whose members so gallantly flew us into battle - at what a cost!

Acknowledgement

My wife who patiently listened to the many stories told over the last sixty odd years, who has spent hours deciphering my writing and finally typed it all out - my most sincere thanks.

Hugh Clarke. M.C. for his friendship over the years, who contributed photographs and documentation contained.

G A Yardley

Introduction

Since the conclusion of WWII I suppose many thousands of memoirs have been written, so 62 years afterwards why should I decide to do that also - it really started some 25 years ago when after some three or four days nostalgic meditation, following a T.V. programme featuring some of my Regimental comrades, I decided to try and trace some of my close friends, survivors of operation Varsity, I was successful and as a result decided to record my memory of ONE DAY ONLY - MARCH 24th 1945. It would appear I was the only one of my Regiment to do so at the time, 35 years after the event, although not intending to do so at the time I was persuaded to submit it to the "Pegasus" magazine for publication. This came to pass and became a part of the regimental and Airborne history, appearing in several history books later on.

For the following 25 years nothing else was done until about four years ago when I joined a team of volunteers dedicated to building a WWII Horsa glider at RAF Shawbury, Shropshire, similar to the one which I had flown in during the latter part of the war. It was a few months after the 60th anniversary of Varsity that an article appeared in the Station Magazine recording the remembrance service conducted there at the time - I commended the editor on the article but pointed out that as I had participated in Varsity a follow up article in my opinion be published to acquaint readers what the Operation was about. This was accepted and I was given the job as a veteran of the event and as a member of the Glider Project team. I submitted a part of my original account, adding a few bits and pieces which had come to light in recent times; this developed into other stories taken from my past, many readers finding them interesting, and it was suggested I write a full account of my service life. I had to give the suggestion much thought - much "burning of the midnight oil" would take place as I found that late at night with a drink at my elbow was my best recall time, and so after a few false starts and doubtful thoughts I finally got started, cheating a little by including the already typed previous articles, so for what it is worth here is my story as I recall it; it is as accurate as memory can recall and perhaps lacks some detail, it is only meant to be a broad account of what happened, with some reference to historical accounts.

The Story Teller and Others

This narrative is not necessarily to tell stories, but to try, amongst other things, to create a reader awareness of the story tellers' and what may be going through their minds at that moment in time of telling.

Wartime memories are very personal and are dealt with in various ways, the individual mind does not always conform to the normal accepted practice of the psychologist.

When you listen to a wartime story try to remember that the narrator may, under certain circumstances, deep in his mind, by reliving the event, occasionally being under considerable mental stress at that moment. Some recall events, scarring of the mind may occur with tragic results, or may blot most if not all of what happened, or a recall so vivid that a severe disturbance of the mind could have a long term effect, be patient with the narrator, there may be more to the story than first appears. On the other hand a person may not be interested in the past for other personal reasons and does not wish to discuss it; one must respect that decision. After many years of thought on the subject and the maturing with age, under the right circumstances find a relief in talking things through, especially in the company of comrades and other ex-service men and a pint or two. Families have been raised and time is available to reflect on past service life, especially wartime, which brings most to one level comradeship.

Some ex-servicemen and women secretly yearn for the past bond in later years, a bond which is quite apart from family in the normal sense. This is a 'family' quite unique, your life may depend on the next man to you and one tends to give thanks to those comrades whose love and bond is far greater than blood brothers, known today as 'Brothers in Arms', and believe me in reality is no T.V. or movie gimmick but a fact of life.

For my own part I have various reasons for free discussion of the past, with one exception. Amongst my small band of wartime comrades we have an unwritten understanding that we never discussed our involvement in the taking of lives - "him and me" situation is an act of war and is necessary, but we felt that it was unnecessary to discuss details, especially with friends and family; taking a life is nothing to be proud of, even when there is no option. Being airborne we were comparatively few in numbers, our losses heavy, this was accepted by the nature of our job and in consequence our bond was very tight (see issue August - September '05).

I am not an over religious person, but feel there is more than good luck involved, one tends to ask oneself, why have all but one of my old comrades passed on, so few of us survived Varsity and WWII. I have a thing regarding talking about events because very soon these historic personal events and WWII will be lost - another thing is that the children of today are under rated in their interest in this subject. Unless we pass on our experiences they will lost out on this part of our military history - British airborne forces had a short but unique position in WWII history. The Horsa project at R.A.F. Shawbury, has done much to raise awareness on this matter by inviting parties of school children from all ethnic groups to see the project. I have taken great pleasure in being invited to contribute my experiences on these occasions - the look on their faces says it all - wonder and pleasure at seeing the aircraft and being told its history and construction. The children of today are interested, given a chance, and it is up to us to pass it all on to them before it is too late. I have myself brought in two parties of children - Adams Grammar and Burton Borough from Newport, but feel more effort should be made to encourage the school authorities to cooperate more on this subject. My other reason is that the Parachute Regiment, with all due respect, always seems to get the larger part of WWII publicity - that is until Ray Conningham started the Horsa project - the glider force was all but forgotten; "Comrades in Arms" apart, one has to stand up and be counted - well done Ray!!

In addition to the footnote (issue August - September 05), after we few survivors left the crash site one incident took place which did not come to light until I once again met S/Sgt Bill Rowland, G.P.R. He was left amongst the wounded but informed me he recalled seeing two ladies walking towards him, they were dressed entirely in white, they spoke to him (obviously in English) and for some minutes did their best to persuade him to leave the site and go with them; they were most insistent, but Bill declined the offer saying his comrades would soon be advancing forward and would pick him up and did not want to lose contact with his own force, also he had a baby boy back in England. Bill still declined after more persuasion and eventually they accepted his refusal to go with them and also walked away and disappeared in a small cloud of mist!!!! Shortly after our own artillery put down a barrage onto and around the wood, shells bursting on the Horsa wreckage, we believe killing some of our wounded. Bill subsequently had a leg taken off and an arm almost off which was finally removed by our R.A.M.C. In todays parlance "friendly fire" but what of Bill's ladies in white? It is for the reader to decide - a premonition? We advanced two days later on a journey of some 300 miles to the Baltic coast - most of this on foot.

It is not the intention of this narrative to give a blow by blow account of that journey, suffice to say that 6th Airborne did its share of leading the 2nd Army to the coast, however, there were a couple of events during that journey which I will relate as best as my memory will allow. During the leapfrog journey, on one occasion we got involved in one of several such engagements, to take a farm village, we had just lost one of our section leaders, shot dead by a sniper from a farm building so death was very close to each one of us, this promotes several reactions, one of which is a dry mouth; it was always advisable not to drink from your water bottle if possible - that was for emergency, always look for an alternative supply. The British "tommy" thinks - farmhouse - water and milk - so we approached the nearest farm, made sure the building was clear of the enemy, then the kitchen - remember outside a battle is in progress but of course we had our priorities right! During this time someone finds a radio, switches it on, twiddles the tuner, and a B.B.C. voice says - "This is the Light Programme and Music while you Work is played by Melville Christie and his Dance Band" - this being none other than the band whicch we regularly danced to at Amesbury, just down the road from Bulford Camp, Salisbury Plain - everyone went mad dancing to the next couple of numbers, chaps in full battle kit attempting to jive together until a senior NCO opened the door and ordered us out in typical army manner, reminding us in no uncertain terms there was a war going on outside. Just think of the situation and the odds of switching the radio on seconds before the hour of transmission and our own local dance band to boot - strange things do happen even in battle!

Another small but joyful incident was to set free several young women from a farm - slave labour - however they had obviously been treated well and the greeting from them was wonderful, if a little embarrassing, for a few seconds - lots of hugs and kisses - a pleasure to be greeted so instead of bbeing shot at. Our stay in the farm was short but restricted by military anti-frat cautions. The rest is history.

Remember the story teller.

Fate or Lady Luck be your Friend

My father died when I was seven years old, which meant I had to grow up without the benefit of a father. We lived in a little village in Shropshire - poor, but like so many families between the wars; this situation made things very difficult for my mother as she had split with my father's side of the family, which denied me of small benefits in the future. Mother re-married and my stepfather was very neutral towards me, this was O.K but as I have already mentioned, this left me without fatherly guidance. We were poor by today's standards, which meant only the barest essentials of clothing, i.e., one of everything in some cases and nil in others, but we managed, we had to in those days, this was 1933 onwards. Mid 1939 saw the end of my meagre education and within a few days World War II was declared. I was employed until I reached the age of 18, which I was called up - this was the most traumatic point in my life, like many other teenagers. I remember so well that Sunday morning in September 1939. I stood outside 173 Trench Road with some of my mother's family and listened to the Prime Minister, Mr Chamberlain, speaking to the nation on the radio - his famous declaration of war against Germany.

I lived my early teenage years between the village of Tibberton and Newport, where I worked most of those years, the only entertainment being the radio, the local village dance halls, and of course girls! This is where I met my first girl friend, a daughter of the local butcher. In the meantime at the age of 17 I joined the local Home Guard, Edgmond Company. For me this was a slow introduction to the ways of army life and it was to stand me in good stead in the near future. By 1943 I received my call up papers to report to Norton Barracks, Worcester.

For anyone who has not gone through this procedure they have no idea what this means, like thousands of other young lads to be ordered by military law to leave the tranquil life of the village and report to an unknown army barracks was traumatic to say the least. Having said my adieu to my family and girl friend I embarked on a period which was to stay fixed in my mind for the rest of my life. The following four years, which included the last two years of the war, and another two years of post war life supplied me with many aspects of life as a young innocent youth of that period, unlike the youth of today. The usual introduction into army life was made easier by my period in the Home Guard, nevertheless was traumatic to say the least - training - (N.C.Os were not noted for their finesse and compassion towards rookies) however I decided to pay attention, do as one was told and "keep my nose clean" as the saying goes, and all might be well, and so for the next 16 weeks I did just that, and it paid off for the next four years.

At the end of my first six weeks I received a letter from my girl friend informing me she was engaged to her sister's boy friend - a farmers son - reserved occupation and all that - I suppose he had more to offer than a soldier in war time! What made things worse - I had told my girl friend I was going to join the Paras; this did not go down very well with the threat she would dump me if I did, but of course she did before I could do so. I accepted the situation and moved on. During the past 64 years I have seen my ex girl friend once, although she lives not far away, at the time of writing I have been married to a wonderful wife for 57 years - we do argue but I know I got the best of the bargain in the end.

I was eventually posted to the Worcestershire Regiment, 10th Battalion, stationed on the shore of New Romney, but soon moved to the Duke of York Royal Military School, a little distance east of Dover Castle, unfortunately in line with the radar masts and the German cross channel coastal guns, right on top of Dover cliffs. The radar masts are still there I believe. Joining a battalion was like joining a new family, company platoon or section brought you all closer together, it was always a 24 hour day, seven days a week, everything was done together so that eventually you knew every man like a brother within your section or platoon.

Life in the vicinity of Dover was never dull - air raids, passing enemy aircraft, doodle bugs, and worst of all, cross channel gun fire; they were of large calibre and were very destructive to say the least, sending people into shelters or the numerous caves and tunnels which had been excavated many years ago; quite often a weekend visit to the cinema would end up in the tunnels due to shell warnings or raids until the all clear sounded. You were supposed to stay put, tea and cakes were usually available at a small charge and everyone was very friendly. This was everyday life and accepted as such covering most of the war years for the locals and military who were stationed in the area.

Military training continued until one day on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, I can't remember which, we caught the bus down to Dover town as we had done on many weekends, true to form during a visit to the cinema the shell warning came on screen - out we went and into the tunnels as usual, only on this occasion I think it developed into a gun duel across the channel as it lasted all evening, by this time it was dark and we were getting fed-up and agreed that as it was dark we would bend the rules and make our way back to camp on foot - nothing in those days. Having walked up the hill and just past the castle we could see the gun flashes across the channel, start counting the seconds, I can't remember to what number, and at that point got down on the ground and waited for the explosion of the shell or shells.

Somewhere between the castle and our camp main gates was a camp for the R.A.F. men and women who manned the radar station, we just got into camp when a shell exploded in their camp killing a number of personnel. We were lucky and also got away with breaking the rule to stay put until the all clear sounded. It was a regular job first thing in the morning to walk the roads in the camp picking up pieces of shrapnel from our overnight anti-aircraft guns. This area of Kent was known as "Hellfire Corner" as enemy aircraft passed over this part of the coast, consequently it was heavily defended by A.A. guns. What goes up must come down, the wartime history of Dover, Folkestone, etc, is well documented and worth reading. This is just my short memories. I was to spend one night in this area again just before Christmas 1944 on our way to the Ardennes in France and Germany as members of the 6th Airborne Div. to join the "Battle of the Bulge" but that is another story, later.

During the autumn to Christmas 1943 period while waiting for a posting to Norton Barracks, Worcester, as previously mentioned, I volunteered for the Paras, this meant presenting myself at Clay Cross, near Chesterfield. The military depot where all volunteers were sorted out into groups, i.e. - no chance perhaps, and acceptable? This is where I met a fellow comrade from the Worcesters who came from the Yardley district of Birmingham, Ralph Eagles, who was to remain a friend for the rest of my army service and for many years afterwards until his death some years ago. We were in fact opposite personalities. As previously mentioned, I decided to follow orders etc, Ralph was laid back at all times and for the following four years and onwards "got away with it"? During the Clay Cross period, which was several weeks, my medical acceptance was in question, I had a cast in the left eye, I had 10/10 vision but it was stated that I did not have a normal 180 degree of vision. This was a blow, but after being kept waiting and generally being messed about at Clay Cross during November and December, I was not in the mood to contest this decision, however, one day I was instructed to report to the Colonel Commandant at the depot who expressed his regret of the medical report, but said as this was a questionable point and as a result of my keenness to be an airborne soldier, would suggest I join a famous glider regiment with his personal recommendation - the Regiment suggested was the 2nd Oxf & Bucks. I declined the offer but little was I to know I would be joining some months later at the end of Operation Fortitude.

Operation Fortitude

This is a story on its own and covers the period roughly from Christmas 1943 up to D Day. As with the rest of my army life and experiences it is recorded as short stories, meant as contributions to R.A.F. Shawbury (where we built a wartime Horsa glider over a period of about six years) Station Magazine, Channel 19, which started out as a follow up of the report on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of Operation Varsity - March 24th, 1945, in which I took part in one of the lead glider elements of the 6th Airborne Division.

D Day Deception

I have great respect and admiration for all those who took part in the Normandy invasion, in no small measure due to the fact that my own future regiment - a glider regiment of the 6th Airborne Division, was to land, literally by moonlight, to take the Pegasus and Horsa Bridges. These were the first two objectives of the invasion.

Operation Fortitude was the codename for the deception operations used by the Allied forces in connection with the Normandy landings. It was divided into Fortitude North and Fortitude South, designed to induce the Germans to believe that the main invasion of France would occur in the Pas de Calais rather than Normandy. Fortitude South was one of the most successful deception operations of the entire war, and arguably the most important. Both Fortitude North and South were related to a much wider deception plan known as Operation Bodyguard. This story is related to Fortitude South (Codenamed 'Quick Silver') in which my colleagues and I were involved.

At no point were the Germans fed false documents describing the invasion plans. Instead they were allowed to construct a misleading order of battle for the Allied forces. To mount a massive invasion of Europe from England, military planners had little choice but to stage units around the country with those who would land first nearest to the embarkation point. By placing the First US Army Group (FUSAG) in the South-East, the Germans would (and did) deduce that the centre of gravity of the invasion force was opposite Calais, the point on the French coast closest to England and therefore the likely landing point.

It is almost unknown to the general public that in the invasion planning of the 'Second Front' deception was to be a considerable consideration. Its use by military forces goes back into the dim and distant past with considerable success and so it was to be on D Day and continued for many weeks later. This operation was a very closely guarded secret for obvious reasons, it was activated many months before D Day and consisted of false military radio communications within all services, dummy aircraft and guns, all types of dummy lorries and cars, airfields, supply dumps and of course boats to convey General George Patton's (Ghost) FUSAG was to attack in the Pas de Calais.

The middle of 1943 saw myself as a member of the Worcestershire Regiment, 10th Battalion, stationed on the South coast. By the beginning of 1944 we were installed in the Royal Military School at Dover which was to be our H.Q. until just after D Day when I, along with others, would find ourselves in the 6th Airborne Division.

In the meantime we were split up by Company and sent to various coastal towns where over a period of time invasion craft were moored in preparation for the Second Front, as it was generally known at the time.

First of all we were to go on a course, a common enough event, as any ex service chaps will know, only in this case whole companies at a time. My Company found itself at Waldringfield near Woodbridge, in a field with piles of metal tubes welded together to form a type of assembly kit, each sub-assembly had to be memorised and broken down time and time again until we could do it all blindfolded. At this stage we practiced in the dark until we could do it perfectly. We were then shown drawings of the completed job, which was a full size 'Landing Craft Tank' (LCT) - a dummy! One was built in daylight and launched, the flotation units were empty 40 gallon drums strapped together in pairs at various points and the whole vessel covered by canvas panels, pre painted with guns, ports and general naval 'bits and bobs' in such a way that they looked like the real thing.

The dummy landing craft: we nicknamed 'Big Bobs', they were certainly big but why 'Bobs'? This was because in the world of old school ties men knew that at Eton you were either a 'Wet Bob', someone who rowed for his house or school or a 'Dry Bob', someone who played land based sports, thus 'Big Bobs'.

We returned to Dover sworn to secrecy until about April when the Battalion was again split up and sent to various sea side places, in my case Ipswich, in fact the Orwell Park alongside the River Orwell where we found rows of LCTs moored. Tents were pitched in the woods and we settled in, but no rest, as very soon long artic lorries arrived containing the now familiar bits and pieces to build dummy boats. Everyone was quickly put under the trees and covered with camouflage nets away from the prying eyes of enemy reconnaissance planes which were active all along the coast. In fact we were later to depend upon their interest over the following weeks in order to fulfil the deception plans.

At last we started work in earnest at night - no lights, every night, sleeping through the daytime, for the next six or eight weeks or so. The Navy moved four real boats each night and we replaced them with dummies before dawn - come daylight all the boats were still there. This was happening at a number places along the East and South-East coast, the real boats were being moved a few at a time by night to the invasion ports.

When the last boat was completed we spent all day every day doing maintenance to keep up the orderly appearance of real boats, and generally be seen as boat crews. Fortunately all this activity was blessed for the most part with good weather, a period we enjoyed until it was announced one morning that the invasion had begun, within a few days we were recalled to Dover, our job completed.

So what was the effect on the invasion? History records that the enemy expected the invasion to come from the South-East, to strike further North around the areas of the shortest crossing points. As such their reserve armour was held in these areas; reserves Hitler refused to release because he still believed the real invasion would come further north. Our dummy invasion boats were still moored along the East and South Coast were they not? Dummies! Hitler did not release his reserves until it was too late - and the bridgehead was complete.

Operation Fortitude

The History

Operation Fortitude was the codename for the deception operations used by the Allied forces during WWII in connection with the Normandy landings (Operation Overlord). It was divided into Fortitude North, a threat to invade Norway, and Fortitude South, designed to induce the Germans to believe that the main invasion of France would occur in the Pas de Calais rather than Normandy. Fortitude South was one of the most successful deception operations of the war, and arguably the most important. Both Fortitude North and Fortitude South were related to a wider deception plan called Operation Bodyguard.

Objectives

The principle objective of Fortitude was to ensure that the opposition faced by the troops invading Normandy would be weak enough to ensure its success. Equally important was to delay the movement of German reserves to the Normandy beachhead, and prevent a potentially disastrous counterattack. The plan therefore aimed to persuade the Germans that additional assaults were planned - specifically in Scandinavia and in the Pas de Calais.

Organization

The overall strategic plan for deception by the Allies in 1944 was planned by London Controlling Section and laid out in Operation Bodyguard. However the actual conduct of such deceptions was the task of the commanders in the theatres in which the deception was to occur. The execution of the deception 'cover plan' for Overlord was therefore the responsibility of SHAEF [Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Forces] under General Eisenhower. A special section called "Ops (B)" was established at SHAEF to handle deception.

Means

It was initially envisioned that deception would occur through five main channels:

Physical deception: the creation in the mind of the enemy of non-existent units through fake infrastructure and equipment, such as wooden tanks or landing craft.

Controlled leaks of information through diplomatic channels: that might be passed on via neutral countries to the Germans.

Wireless traffic: the creation of non-existent units through simulation or wireless traffic that such units would generate, which would be detected by the enemy.

Use of German agents controlled by the Allies to send false information to the German intelligence services.

Public presence of notable staff associated with phantom groups such as FUSAG (First U.S. Army Group, most notably George S. Patton, the best known Allied tank commander).

During the course of fortitude the almost complete lack of German aerial reconnaissance, together with the absence of uncontrolled German agents in Britain came to make physical deception almost irrelevant. The unreliability of the 'diplomatic leaks' resulted in their discontinuance. The majority of deception was carried out by means of false wireless traffic and through German double agents. The latter was to prove by far the most significant.

Although Fortitude was controlled from SHAEF, London Controlling Section retained responsibility for what was called "Special Means": the use of diplomatic channels and double-agents.

Double agents

The Germans had about 50 agents in England at the time, but B1A (the Counter-Intelligence Division of MI5) had caught and recruited many of them as double agents. In fact, although they did not know it, MI5 controlled all of the German agents in Britain at the time. They planned to feed German Intelligence a misleading picture of the invasion preparations via their own agents. Reports sent by these agents were carefully controlled in order to support the view of forces in the UK which the Allied deception planners wished to present.

The three key double agents for Fortitude were:

GARBO: Juan Pujol was a Spaniard who had got himself recruited to German intelligence and then offered to work for the British. He created a huge network of false sub-agents by the time of Fortitude. He was awarded the Iron Cross after D-Day.

BRUTUS: Roman Garby-Czerniawski was a Polish officer; captured by the Germans he was offered a chance to work for them as a spy. On his arrival in Britain he immediately turned himself in to British intelligence.

TRICYCLE: Duško Popov, a Yugoslav lawyer.

Fortitude North

Fortitude North was the fictitious assault on Scandinavia. It consisted of two parts: first a plan to re-occupy any parts of occupied Scandinavia that might be weakened by withdrawal of German troops; second an assault on Norway.

The (fictional) unit assigned to this operation was the British Fourth Army, which was located in Scotland. Since German reconnaissance was never likely in Scotland the primary means of deception were the use of double agents, though the radio traffic of the imaginary units assigned to the Fourth Army was simulated by radio operators.

British diplomats also began negotiations with neutral Sweden in order to obtain concessions that would be useful in the event of an invasion of Norway, such as the right to fly reconnaissance missions over Sweden and the right to refuel planes that made emergency landings. These negotiations were made not in the hope of obtaining the concessions but with the intention that news of the negotiations would reach the ears of the Germans.

The units making up Fourth Army varied throughout 1944. Some were real units whose actual role and organization was disguised by agent reports; some were entirely fictitious. The order of battle at the peak of the operation was as follows:

British Fourth Army fictional - HQ Edinburgh

British II Corps (fictional - HQ Stirling)

55th British Division (Northern Ireland)

58th Division (fictional, Aberlour)

British 113th Independent Infantry Brigade (garrison for Orkney and Shetland Islands)

British VII Corps (fictional - HQ Dundee)

British 52nd (Lowland) Division (Dundee)

U.S. 55th Infantry Division (fictional, Iceland)

Three U.S. Ranger battalions (fictional, Iceland)

United States XV Corps (Northern Ireland)

2nd US Infantry Division

5th US Infantry Division

8th US Infantry Division

Fortitude South

Fortitude South was conducted with the intention of convincing the Germans that an invasion would come to the Pas de Calais - a logical strategic choice for an invasion since it was the closest part of France to England. While it was hoped that this would reduce the number of troops in the Normandy area at the time of the invasion, even more important was to dissuade the Germans from reinforcing the Normandy battleground in the days immediately after the invasion. To this end the Allies hoped to convince the Germans that the Normandy invasion, when it occurred, was a diversion, and the main invasion was still to come near Calais.

Operation Quicksilver

The key element of Fortitude South was Operation Quicksilver. It entailed the creation of the belief in German minds that the Allied force consisted of two army groups, 21st Army Group under Montgomery (the genuine Normandy invasion force), and 1st U.S. Army Group (FUSAG) (a fictitious force under General George Patton), positioned in southeastern England for a crossing at the Pas de Calais.

At no point were the Germans fed false documents describing the invasion plans. Instead they were allowed to construct a misleading order of battle for the allied forces. To mount a massive invasion of Europe from England, military planners had little choice but to stage units around the country with those that would land first nearest to the embarkation point. By placing FUSAG in the south-east, German intelligence would (and did) deduce that the centre of gravity of the invasion force was opposite Calais, the point on the French coast closest to England and therefore a likely landing point.

In order to facilitate this deception additional buildings were constructed; dummy vehicles and landing craft were placed around possible embarkation points. A huge amount of false radio traffic was transmitted, commensurate with a force of that size. A deception of such a size require input from many organisations, including MI5, MI6, SHAEF via Ops B, and the armed services. Information from the various deception agencies was organized by and channeled through the London Controlling Section under the direction of Lieutenant-Colonel John Bevan.

Results

The Allies were able to easily judge the effectiveness of these strategies. ULTRA intelligence - that gained from the breaking of German codes and ciphers, such as the Enigma machine - was able to provide an indication of thee German high command's responses to their actions. They maintained the pretense of FUSAG and other forces threatening Pas de Calais for some considerable time after D-Day, possibly even as late as September 1944. This was vital to the success of the Allied plan since it forced the Germans to keep most of their reserves bottled up waiting for an attack on Calais which never came, thereby allowing the Allies to maintain and build upon their marginal foothold in Normandy.

Reasons for success

Some of the key reasons why this operation was so successful:

The long term view taken by British Intelligence to cultivate these agents as channels of misinformation to the enemy.

The use of ULTRA decrypts to read ENIGMA coded messages between Abwehr and German High Command which quickly told them the effectiveness of the deception tactics. This is one of the early uses of a closed-loop deception system.

R V Jones, the Assistant Director Intelligence (Science) at the British Air Ministry insisted for reasons of tactical deception that for every radar station attacked within the real invasion area, two were to be attacked outside it.

The extensive nature of the German Intelligence machinery, and the rivalry amongst the various elements.

Training

I may well have touched on the subject of training previously but did not appreciate the meaning of hard training until I joined the 2nd Oxf & Bucks. The Worcestershire Regiment was one of the many "heavy line" Regiments, which meant my previous twelve months training was the "heavy" slow marching pace etc. This was to change, we had to learn the Light Infantry drill procedure - on parade you normally stood in the stand easy position, i.e. - feet apart, hands behind back, you could then get the command "Light Infantry", quick march; you come to attention and stepped off on the left foot and march off. On the command "halt" you reversed the sequence, i.e. - halt and stood at ease in one movement, all this and much more at 140 paces per minute. I always thought the Light Infantry drill very crisp and very smart; done properly it had to be as our Regimental Sergeant Major (R.S.M.) was from the Coldstream Guards - big - loud - very smart - gave the officers no quarter. Quite often on a Saturday morning Regimental drill parade his orders were - "Stand fast the officers, 52nd dismiss" as a junior N.C.O. I always found him very fair and understanding when necessary.

It was about at this stage we had a young chap join our platoon (14), although he walked like a country farmer he was obviously educated well above our average level; his name was John Thorn. In due course he told us his father had been a major in the Regiment and had been killed on his way back to Dunkirk. We asked him why he was not commissioned, his reply was it would restrict his movements and he wished to be in the ranks until the war was over, in the meantime, he could if he wished, go out on his own and kill Germans in revenge for his fathers death. His family were farmers and trained racehorses near Cheltenham. Many years later, John was the oldest rider one year in the Grand National - years later he was thrown from his horse and killed - fate!

Weapon training, field craft, etc, was never ending, long fast marches at Light Infantry pace, double march one hundred yards, march one hundred yards, all this in normal battle order. In addition to normal battle dress we wore "Dennison Smocks", very good, lined, ideal for airborne troops, all airborne forces wore them, I still have one. Now worth their weight in gold I'm told (ex W.W.II). This constant fast hard training would periodically culminate in weekend field firing exercises on Dartmoor or Exmoor in the most horrendous weather, nothing stopped for the weather, war had to continue so did our training, failure to do so resulted in being returned to your parent Regimental Depot (RTU) a shameful event. Over the years in telling of these conditions my words were (unknown to me) described in a letter dated February 18th 1946 by Gordon Cross from Palestine, where the 6th Airborne Division were - 1945/1948 - I quote - "There is a Brigade exercise coming off next Wednesday in the Jordan valley, somewhere which, if the present weather continues, promises to be in the "nightmare" tradition. Unlike the Children of Israel, we shall probably not make the trip dry-footed."

"Exercise Nightmare" was one of many such training exercises we had to endure, again I quote - "Many Fifty-Second men may remember - and will probably never forget - Exercise Nightmare - held on or around mid-December 1944, just before the 6th Airborne was rushed out to the Ardennes. No operation ever came within miles of the frightfulness of Exercise Nightmare when it poured torrents all night on the icy steppes of Exmoor. Transport became bogged, six-pounders stuck in the mud and men vanished into the pitch black, never to be seen again until daybreak. Truly, no exercise was never more aptly named."

In my telling of this particular exercise, I recalled our Platoon Mortarman trying to fire parachute flares into the pitch black torrential night storm, this was found to be impossible as by the time the bomb had reached its normal altitude and ignited the storm had blown it down wind and out of sight in a few seconds, even attempts to fire the bomb directly into the wind with a few degrees of angle also failed, attempts to dig in were found impossible as each spade full of earth removed was immediately replaced by earth and water. If my memory serves me right my Company was lost until daylight. I can confirm the letter quote - confirmation of my [memories] of that night was received in an email December 2006. This has happened several times during the last two/three months, much to my delight.

On return to camp soaked to the skin, cold, hungry, and like all soldiers, moaning - his privilege - but recovery was soon affected - good teamwork soon got the weapons cleaned and oiled, that was always the rule amongst combat troops, if weapons failed it cost lives - your life - this was never in question. Following this a personal cleanup, dry clothes and food - we were always raring to go; this was the result of high physical fitness. Usually transport was laid on to the nearest town where the local dancehall would be located, for some a pub, I was always one of a small band of dancers, preferring that to the pub, not that we neglected the beverage altogether, some chaps did neither, mostly married ones, I had two in my section who always cleaned the Bren and my personal weapon, allowing me time to get ready to catch the transport, good comrades, the "Band of Brothers" in all respects. Tragically the Bren gunner in my section was later killed in our glider crash on Operation Varsity; strangely he was the one out of three of us who accepted the third light when we had our last fag before take off that morning. From this moment all our training would again be put to the test. The exception to this was a weekend in Birmingham's bombed out areas for street fighting techniques, booby traps, demolition, etc, a change from the winter wilds of the moors.

So far I have not mentioned glider training. As the glider is our means of transport into battle it is important that each man knows what it expected of him in military terms and as an individual, not everyone takes to flying and flying in a large Horsa is not an experience for the faint hearted. It is towed behind a Dakota or a bomber - Halifax, Stirling, etc, on the end of a large tow rope, being subjected to weather conditions, wind and turbulence caused by the tow plane and other preceding aircraft, causing the glider to pitch, roll, yaw and porpoise, the result can be imagined. I was always fortunate in this respect - I was never sick - sick bags were supplied. If I remember rightly two flying exercises which stand out in my mind are - flying in the Waco with the Americans, these gliders are half the size of the Horsa and only carry about fifteen men against the Horsas total man load of thirty, as a result of this two gliders were towed side by side so far apart behind a Dakota, and being much smaller and lighter could result in a rough ride, but good experience made one more appreciative of the more stable Horsa. The other outstanding flying exercise was the largest mass flight we had taken part in; all the Brigade gliders were airborne for over three hours, flying to and from various points across the country, during this time from the take off fog had come down on our home airfield and so we were diverted, my group landing at R.A.F. Sywell, near Northampton, just in time for the airmens tea, after which we were transported back to Bulford. Later we learned it was an exercise for Varsity.

The Ardennes Offensive

This was commonly known as "The Battle of the Bulge" or "Rundstedt Rush". The Germans had broken through the American lines in the Eifell region of the Belgian Ardennes at the beginning of December 1944, the critical point came a few days before Christmas when the 6th Airborne Division was rushed out at twenty four hour notice to back up the Americans and prevent the Germans crossing the River Maas in the Dinant region. Within twenty four hours on December 22nd we embarked by rail from Bulford station to Dover where we spent the night in a transit camp. The next morning (23rd December) we sailed from Dover to Calais on the ferry "Shepperton" being the first allied troops to use the port after liberation. Another night in a transit camp then onward by road in freezing cold lorries to Olsene where we spent the night, being distributed amongst the local houses, my Bren gunner and I sleeping in a bed!! On the 25th December we were soon off again by road; after travelling all that day and night we arrived in Givet on the River Maas at about 04.00 am - the coldest journey I have ever experienced in my life - snow, ice and freezing temperatures - ever since I have hated snow, ice and cold weather, and will do so for the rest of my life.

We were soon allocated defence positions, my Platoon No.14 at the time, were given a small hill, just outside the town, where we found a cave in the hillside, it was so cold outside that to go into the cave was heaven, it then became our Platoon H.Q. Outside the ground was so deeply frozen that it was impossible to dig slit trenches, we tried blowing the ground with Hawkins anti-tank grenades with no effect, in the end we had to call in the Royal Engineer sappers with pneumatic drills. We soon found ourselves amongst the American Paras manning anti aircraft guns. It was during this period I was suffering with neuralgia which was very painful due to the temperature change when first going outside and then back into the cave I reported sick and was given aspirin and sent back up the hill, however, my Platoon officer, Bob Preston and Sgt Mick Evans gave me some of the whisky ration from time to time to ease the pain it tasted good. From then on we moved about every couple of days until the crisis was over. During this time we carried out lots of patrols, day and night, in and around several villages. The civilians were very friendly but very poor, the houses etc being in very poor condition. During this period of movement our billets varied from houses to cattle buildings, the best was a hay loft over the cattle, which were kept indoors for obvious reasons, and this provided dry and warm accommodation. On one occasion B Coy had the job of reconnoitering a certain area and finding a route for the rest of the Regiment to follow, this was done but someone had to go and lead them in; John Thorn and I had a mine detector and started to check the road for mines, this proved too slow for the corporal in charge, bearing in mind everywhere was covered in frozen snow he decided the ground was safe to walk on so off his party went, in the meantime John and I continued our mine sweeping, suddenly we picked up something and carefully checking for a booby trap - and it was - underneath as it happened. At the side of the road close by was a pigsty, also the telegraph cables were down, so we cut off a good length and carefully threaded under the pressure plate, paying out the cable behind the pigsty, making sure there was no one about we pulled the wire, the booby trap was live and of course the mine exploded blowing a goodly hole in the road. A few seconds later Major Ballard, the company commander, came dashing down the road to find out what had happened and he congratulated us on our procedure and caution.

C Company was not as fortunate as they had to join a company from the 13th Parachute Regiment to fight what was known later as "The Battle of Bure". It was at this point that the Germans reached the end of their advance westwards; this is a story on its own. However, the success of this battle cost the lives of several men of C Company and 13th Para, plus many wounded. It is interesting to note that the Commanding Officer of 13 Para was Lt. Col. Luard who was commissioned into the Ox & Bucks before transferring to the Parachute Regiment. We eventually moved north to Grubbenvor in Holland, still in very hard weather, again this was on the banks of the River Maas, the ground on both sides sloped down to the river which meant during daylight the area was a no mans land. During this period we were on one side and the enemy on the other and a certain amount of respect existed for each other - discreet movements during daylight as we were in full view of each other. On our side of the river was a small deserted village which we had reached just after last light in Platoon strength; just before first light we handed the position over to a couple of snipers, this was the routine day after day, we also sent a number of patrols across the river.

A number of small incidents occurred which are worthy of note. One night I was called to accompany the Platoon Sergeant and a couple of other chaps on a patrol along the road which ran alongside the river our side, we had not gone very far when suddenly there was a "plop" quickly followed by a brilliant light, a trip flare, we were totally exposed to anyone within a radius of half a mile, needless to say we hit the deck in two seconds flat and waited to receive gunfire from the enemy side of the river at least. Nothing happened, when the flare burned itself out we stood up and the Sergeant said "Sorry chaps, I forgot about the trip flare" Can you think of what we might have said to him, Sergeant or otherwise! The patrol was terminated at this point with much ribaldry on arrival back at Platoon HQ.

I should point out that everywhere was still covered in snow so for those on patrol or other warlike activities we were issued with white snow overalls; as they were in short supply they were passed on to others for their use, needless to say they were very rarely dry.

Another occasion went something like this. It was normal routine to "stand to" half an hour before first light and half an hour during last light, always considered to be the best time for an attack. During the first light period and for some time afterwards we used to watch a number of Germans around their dugout having a wash and shave etc, plus a cyclist who appeared about the same time. One day someone had the idea we ought to put a stop to this blatant arrogance, so an artillery shoot was laid on. An artillery observation team came forward and when the man on the bicycle got to a certain point the order to fire was given. This had to be timed correctly so that the shells arrived at the right point at the right time, and so it was, a lot of 25 pound shells caused a lot of smoke and dust, after a few short minutes this cleared and out of its midst arose the cyclist, got on his bike and rode away to the cheers of everyone. We did not repeat the event, everyone thought he deserved to be left alone in future. We often wondered if he survived the war. I hope so.

One morning after we had handed over to the snipers at the deserted village, we had arrived back at our Platoon daytime positions. The normal procedure was to have our rum ration, which was slightly diluted with hot water, I have to say it was a generous portion, consequently within a short time it began to take effect, and unfortunately we were suddenly called back to the village as the snipers had been confronted by some enemy soldiers. I cannot remember more details but no casualties resulted from this encounter, it could have turned nasty as we had to rush down to the village and rush back before it got too light, not that this worried us as by this time we were in high spirits literally as a result of the rum. Normally after a night standing patrol we would be tired and sleeping off the rum.

I should mention food. The British forces, particularly the army, lived on "Compo Rations", in a box for seven men, it consisted of prepared tinned food, in the main pretty good but it could be monotonous, in addition a box would also contain such things as cigarettes, matches, chocolate oatmeal blocks, bully beef, etc. For a time in the Ardennes we had some American "K" rations, in our opinion totally inadequate under such weather/action conditions, whatever may be said about British compo rations it was good sustaining food, which a reasonably trained cook could make better, even today much good food is made unacceptable by the cooks. One high-light was the self heating tins of cocoa or soup; this had a heating element down the middle - remove the cap on top and ignite with a lighted cigarette, but before this it was VITAL to pierce the top face of the can, otherwise the heat generated within would turn it into a bomb - the contents were delicious. One can was issued to each man when going out on night patrol, especially in very cold weather.

Unknown to me at the time, the Regiment was arranging for a limited number of men to go on forty eight hour leave in Brussels. I was informed I was one of the lucky ones and to be ready to leave at a minute's notice, needless I was. I well remember the night journey, going along, closely followed by V1 doodle bugs also heading for Brussels and like targets. This is true, you could see them flying a few hundred feet above and alongside us; I guess they had been launched not very faraway and had not yet gained height. After Varsity we were to over-run many V1 and V2 launching sites. My leave was greeted with massive near explosions, in fact I looked through the window of our accommodation and saw one explode - they were in fact V2 rockets, you did not hear or see their arrival, only the explosion, nevertheless, despite the danger, leave was very enjoyable and soon ended; I cannot remember anything except the warmth and drink!

Some nights were very clear, the sky being full of stars, it was not unusual to hear our bombers flying into Germany, and on a number of occasions to witness them being shot down in flames, also we saw V2's being launched; their propellant blast lighting up the launch point. Another daylight phenomenon was to see German artillery shells passing through the sky a few hundred feet up, seconds before they lost velocity and fell to earth and exploded. We reckoned they were long range guns from the Siegfried Line, firing on their extreme range. We witnessed this as a blur, but without doubt, shells.

On arrival back at camp I was greeted with the news that an American unit was taking over the next day. The Americans did not observe the discretion we exercised in relation to day light movement, consequently we moved out O.K. but of course they drove up in their transport into their allocated positions; we had just got clear when the enemy opened fire on them with artillery etc. I don't know the result of this indiscretion but lives must have been lost? We had to fly back to Bulford within forty eight hours, travelling to Brussels airport and then to England on 28th February 1945 - what of the future?

Our hasty return was of course in relation to the crossing of the River Rhine, we guessed we were in line for another airborne operation and as the 1st British Airborne Division had been badly depleted at Arnhem it was taken for granted that it was our turn again - it was just a matter of when. After seven days leave extensive training followed and finally ended with a three hour mass divisional flight - this was as expected a rehearsal for the Rhine crossing operations - Varsity. One British, the 6th, and one American, the 17th, were to fly side by side across the Rhine into the heart of Germany in one single lift, the largest of WWII. On the 19th March 1945 we moved to Birch airfield and flew from Gosfield on 24th March.

Operation Varsity

24th/25th March 1945

This report was recorded some 25 years ago and was verified by other members of the Regiment as a true account of that date, being one of many such events during a short period of time, during which the 2nd Oxford and Bucks lost some 60 per cent of its strength - killed or wounded mainly due to enemy anti-aircraft fire.

This account was never intended to be more than a private and personal account of that fateful date. However it was later found to be one of the few records and maybe, as such, found its way into print as part of a Regimental and Airborne history. Much water has run under the bridge since then and more details have become available, too late to be included in the original text.

This story is in two parts, the first is about two glider pilots and a platoon of well trained airborne soldiers of the British 6th Airborne Division. The time span is a few hours longer than the flight time from Gosfield/Birch to Hamminkeln, Germany, by which time most of them will be dead.

It started in March 1945 when the 6th Airborne Division left England en route for Germany. Great numbers of Halifax and Dakota tugs with Horsa glider in tow gathered in the darkness of the morning of the 24th March and set course for Brussels, then east to the area of Wessel, just across the River Rhine.

Once again, the 52nd Light Infantry, better known as the 2nd Oxford and Bucks were leading the 6th Airlanding Brigade and right at the tip of the flying sword were the gliders carrying 'B' Company in numerical platoon order;

Number (1) 17 Platoon: Lt J Cochran MC

Number (2) 18 Platoon: Lt R Preston

Number (3) 19 Platoon: Lt H Clarke MC

And so on.......

I flew in No 2 glider as a member of Bob Preston's 18 Platoon, piloted by S/Sgt Bill Rowland and Sgt Geoff Collins of 'E' Squadron, the Glider Pilot Regiment. I was not to know the names of these pilots until 40 years later.

Some three hours flying time passed uneventfully; as many such flights had done in the past, except that this one was for real. Darkness turned into a lovely morning with a clear sky and the promise of good weather, now and then the sight of the escort fighters brought the feeling of some security against attack by the Luftwaffe.

At last the river Rhine came into view and as we approached at about 3,000 ft the order was given to open two doors, one forward on the port side and one rear on the starboard. As I sat on the starboard side forward I watched Ginger Belsham pull the forward door upwards. At that precise moment flak burst under the port wing banking the aircraft over to starboard and almost throwing Ginger out of the door only for him to be pulled back by the platoon commander and sergeant. This all happened in the space of two seconds but it only allowed this man to live for another few minutes as he was one of the 60 per cent of the platoon soon to die. The drop zones and landing zones were shrouded in smoke which must have made target identification difficult for the pilots. I felt the gentle jerk of the tow line being cast off and next thing the nose of the glider dipped down as the landing procedure began. We all linked our arms together for landing and offered a silent prayer. The enemy were prepared for us and waiting with a concentration of Ack-Ack guns and being the first gliders in our Regiment we took the full weight of the attack.

We descended through a heavy barrage of flak. Many lives were lost during these first few minutes including one of the pilots, Sgt Geoff Collins, while S/Sgt Bill Rowland was wounded. One chap by the name of Shrewsbury who sat opposite me in the glider got a burst of machine gun fire through the back, the bullets passing through a gap of about eight to ten inches between the heads of myself and Ted Tamplin who sat on my right.

Some of the glider controls had been damaged and there was no compressed air to operate the landing flaps, consequently we flew right across the landing zone over a railway and the river Issel and crashed head-on into a wood at ground level.

Whilst all this was going on Number 1 glider carrying 17 Platoon had also been badly hit by flak and was breaking up in mid air spilling out men and equipment. It finally crashed as we had done although in this instance there were no survivors.

I was one of the lucky ones; having been sat in the centre of five men I was sitting in one piece of seat with my harness on. With the exception of a few cuts and bruises we five were ok. I remember going over to the pilot S/Sgt Rowland who had been wounded by the flak and hurt by the crash and asking silly questions like what speed we had been doing and what happened to the break parachutes. A conversation he was to recall 40 years later. Several other chaps were alive but wounded, but most were dead including the platoon commander, sergeant and two corporals, leaving only a corporal, myself and another L/Cpl and seven others unhurt.

The wounded were attended to by the platoon medic, L/Cpl Greenwood, and Ted Noble who did sterling work during the following few hours during which time a reconnaissance patrol reported a tank at the west end of the next wood and large enemy troop concentrations in the area.

I took compass bearings on artillery fire, assuming that it was our own firing according to plan, and established our position on the map (which I still have). From the information we had on the enemy strength and their position it was agreed that the best plan would be to try and link up with the nearest Allied unit which was the 1st Ulster Rifles at their objective on one of the two bridges over the River Issel. As the shortest distance between two points is a straight line we had to run like hell over 1000 yards to reach it.

There were eight of us capable of making the dash. However Ted Tamplin had an injured ankle and offered to stay behind with the wounded knowing that he would probably be taken prisoner or maybe even shot. He was captured but escaped some days later however and managed to rejoin the regiment. Bill Rowland remembers coming round to find himself looking up at a German Officer demanding to know whether he was English or American. Bill was convinced that had they have been American they would have been shot - I wonder why? By the grace of God they were allowed to live and were told that they would be left to their own devices as they would soon be picked up by their own side which they were some 48 hours later.

The moment of our hasty departure was indicated by the sound of the enemy sweeping the wood from the other end and so with the old saying in mind "He who fights and runs away (may) live to fight another day" we ran like bats out of hell. A line of bobbing red berets waving across an open field must have appeared an easy target to the enemy who promptly opened up from all angles, but either we had been trained very well or the Germans were a bad shot as none of us got hit - or maybe we were very lucky?

Fortunately the Royal Ulster Rifles had taken the bridge and the sound of a rich Irish voice shouting 'Halt, who goes there' was the most welcome of sounds. We crossed the bridge between bursts of machine gun fire and reported to an officer with a request for some stretcher bearers and some help to go back to our wounded. The request was denied and was coupled with an order to stay put. We eventually rejoined our regiment the next day - March 25th - my birthday.

Friendly Fire

I believe it was a planned "stonk" on the wood, unknown to us at the time, and the reason for the refusal to allow us to return to the wounded.

What happened at the crash site after we and the Germans had left, was explained by Bill Rowland at one of our meetings. Ted Tamplin and another chap by the name of Parker (I think) were taken prisoner, but escaped a couple of days later and rejoined the regiment.

The following details were told to me and Ted Noble in the presence of our wives - he swore it was true - he said 'Godfrey I don't care what anyone says, I saw two ladies approach the wreckage, they were dressed in white, they spoke to me in English and explained that it was dangerous to stay there, they did their best to persuade me to go with them but I declined and explained that my comrades would soon be advancing and would pick me up. I also said that I was married and had a baby son back in England and did not want to leave with them. After some 5-10 minutes they said very well we will leave you but you should come with us.' They turned and walked away and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Bill swore this is what he saw. Very shortly after the wood and crash site was hit by English artillery shells, some exploding close to Bill, resulting in a leg being severed and an arm almost completely severed. Bill put his one hand down amongst the grass and leaves and found a piece of hessian sacking, dirty with grass, leaves, oil and tar, he shook the loose debris off and wrapped it around his stump. He wrapped a shell dressing round his arm. He was picked up about 48 hours later and taken to a Field Dressing Station (RAMC). He said he told the army surgeon this story who said not to worry about it, that he was lucky, the dirty hessian stemmed the blood flow and luckily was not infected. His arm was finally removed. These are the facts as verified by Ted Noble when recalled and discussed between us.

What about the ladies in white? Bill swore that is what he saw and I had no reason to disbelieve it. A trauma of the mind presenting a premonition, or what? Draw your own conclusions. Don't forget the conditions surrounding this event.

What actually happened was not disclosed until I met Des Paige during an open day at R.A.F. Shawbury, Shropshire, during the summer of 2007. Des was one of the pilots of Glider No.3 flying behind us and to our left, following No.1, he witnessed what actually happened to Nos.1 and 2. It was in general as I have described, except that the flak hit our left wing and blew half of it off - with only the right wing ailerons workable, with full ailerons on to keep the right wing up and level, any attempt to change course would have dropped the right wing, with this in mind Bill Rowland had no alternative but to fly straight and level with disastrous results as described.

Low and Slow Mission No.26

The time was approximately 13.00 hrs on 24 March 1945, some three hours after the first paratroops and gliders put down in the area of Hamminkeln / Wessel east of the river Rhine.

I lay in the wreckage of my glider, amongst my comrades, both dead and alive, we had been shot down and crashed into a wood about a mile from the centre of the village of Hamminkeln. The sounds of battle, which had raged since about 10.00 hrs that morning had begun to recede, but in the distance a faint buzz was heard growing by the second into an enormous crescendo of aircraft engine roar, the ground shook into almost earthquake proportion, the trees shook and whipped about, branches and twigs rained down upon us for a few moments frightening the life out of us, it was so sudden and unexpected that on top of our traumatic experience of the previous few hours to say the least was - what the hell is going on. Battle was what we were trained for and took for granted, but this was totally unexpected and with such violence.

During the following 60 years the storyteller had described this scene many times, referring to the flypast of bombers at 'tree top height' (please remember this) - this being received by most listeners with great scepticism - rubbish was many a reply, bombers do not fly that low. I held my counsel in silence over many years knowing the truth of the situation. Some aircraft reported as being as low as 50 ft, one aircraft lost 3 ft of wing tip, at least 'tree top height'.

Approaching 60 years after the event I picked up a copy of 'Fly Past' an aviation magazine dated January 2002, No.246, which featured a two-part account of the 30 missions of B24 M-5-FO 4450600 - 'Wee Willy', Crew No.5294. On reading through each mission account I came to No.26 - I quote 'After some close calls and watching the Hamminkeln church steeple go past at about the same height as the wing, Allen turned around and regained altitude'. It had taken 60 years to prove my point. Mission 26 was the supply drop at very low altitude on the morning of 24 March 1945.

A total of 240 B24s were committed to Mission 26 in order to drop supplies to the 6th British and 17th US airborne divisions, flying in low to avoid scattering the supplies outside the drop zones, this tactic, however, had a serious draw back, flying low and slow exposed the aircraft to a concentration of automatic anti aircraft fire, i.e., light high rate of fire up to 20mm calibre, 14 B24s were lost on that mission. On the suggestion of my wife, who, over the years had heard most of the stories, I wrote to the editor of 'Fly Past' informing him of my participation in connection with the event - published December 2002, issue No.255:

I read with great interest the account of B-24 M-5-FO Wee Willie, flown by crew 5294 on Mission No.26 - The Rhine Crossing, March 24, 1945 (Fly Past January 2002). I was one of the 6th Airborne Glider troops involved, and flew into battle in glider, chalk No.2 (that is a story on its own).

In relating this story many times over the years, I would refer to American Liberators flying over us at tree-top height. I have often wondered whether the listeners believed this statement - now at least nearly 60 years on I have the documentary proof!

Due to enemy flak my glider crashed into a wood outside the landing zone, killing over two thirds of the platoon, for the next hour or so we were confined to this wood, during which time various things happened, including the supply drop by the Liberators. They flew directly over us, so low that the earth shook, branches and leaves were swept down upon us. It happened so quickly we wondered what the hell was going on. Despite the planned run-in altitude of 250 ft, I feel this was not adhered to, as the crew description of flying over Hamminkeln level with the church steeple speaks for itself.

I am one of only two survivors of the crash site, the other one being my senior glider pilot who is in his eighties and only lives a few miles away.

A summary of that day had been published in Airborne history, but without the detail of Mission 26. It just goes to show that old soldiers do tell the truth without stretching it sometimes! Crew 5294 really completes the story, which has made me a very happy man.

One of my pastimes is being a member of RAF Cosford Aerospace Museum Restoration and Preservation Society, which does allow me to be involved with various aircraft. I do find 'Fly Past' the best of the bunch, this view is also supported by other enthusiastic readers at Cosford.

A few weeks later I received a letter from one of the air gunners of 'Wee Willie'. A couple of weeks following that I received another letter, this time from Ed Allen the pilot, this led to a long period of letters and emails, both men were amazed that after 60 years the publication of the event should bring together both airmen and airborne soldiers, each recalling the circumstances of the operation quite clearly.

Ed Allen sent me a copy of his full account of Mission 26, entitled 'Low and Slow', which gives full details. As there is too much information at hand to include in the full story, anyone interested in the full story, could on request, be supplied with a copy.

B 24 M-5-FO-4450600 - 'Wee Willie' Crew No.5294. A lead crew of this mission, No.26, consisting of nine bomb groups, a total of 240 aircraft participating, 14 aircraft being lost to enemy anti aircraft fire, additional crew members were added for this operation to a total of 14.

There are old men

And

There are bold men

But

There are very few old bold men!

March 25th 1945 - Rejoining the Regiment

I personally reported the presence of the few survivors of 18 Platoon B Company to regimental H.Q., which was in the railway station at Hamminkeln. The Colonel and R.S.M. were present and welcomed us back to the Regiment with the sad news that as B Company had in fact suffered high casualties, 17 and 18 Platoons being shot down, leaving the Company down to two officers and about forty five men, the Regiment had in fact had about one hundred and sixteen killed and many more wounded and missing as the records were to show.

The Colonel and R.S.M. led us to B Company positions at the T junction at the end of the station road, reporting to C.S.M. Bridges near the railway signal box that had a weapon pit dug under the tail of a glider. The road to the right passed over a bridge which had had to be blown the previous night by Lt. Hugh Clark, who the previous day had won the Military Cross for leading a bayonet charge across the bridge, but that is his story.

The road between Regimental H.Q. and the T junction was constantly under sniper fire. That morning I witness Cpt. Moncrieff of S Company drive a jeep up the road and turn left at the road junction, he then came back, turned right and was killed by sniper fire a few feet from where I was in a shell crater. As my rifle had been destroyed in the glider crash I replaced it from the jeep. Later that morning tanks were heard approaching the bridge, so rocket firing Typhoon fighters were called up from the "taxi rank" and dealt with them. That day the main ground forces had reached us so the pressure was off, they took over our positions that night and the next day we moved forward to a position where we could lick our wounds and take on board much needed replacements etc. It was at this time we few survivors of 18 Platoon joined Lt. Hugh Clark's 19 Platoon and remained with them until we got back to England.

Speaking of wounded, I took a few knocks - a damaged left shin bone and a bash in the face which split my nose, covering my face and the upper front of my flying smock with a copious amount of blood, which looked worse than it was. In fact I also had, unknown at the time and which did not become apparent for several years, suffered whiplash which was caused by the crash in a side to side motion. This also affected one of my close survivor friends and unknown to each at the time applied for war injury pension. We eventually did get it but that is another story. When we advanced I was allowed to ride in a jeep for a few days due to my leg injury, and then rejoined the Platoon. For the rest of our journey up to the Baltic coast, roughly three hundred miles, a lot of this being on foot, was a series of leapfrog movements, taking our turn to lead the Brigade on the advance, some times without action, other times clashing with pockets of fanatic young Nazis.

Our next main event was the crossing of the River Wassel - I believe the second largest river in Germany - this time to be in the old fashioned wayy, collapsible assault boats, heavy and cumbersome. Our approach to the river was greeted by airburst shell fire from a flack train in the village the other side of the river. I was in the lead Platoon which was taken unaware and took several casualties. Our artillery quickly put down smoke on the other side which eased the situation and allowed us to approach the river, launch the boats and paddle like hell to fight the strong swift current in order to get to the other side as quickly as possible. Again B Company led the assault across and attacked the village. One young replacement had been given a PIAT anti tank weapon to look after prior to the crossing but in the confusion left it behind; I was detailed to take him and another chap back across the river, find it and bring it back. I can't remember the details now but we went back and found it; by this time the day was getting on and it was important that we got ammunition and other important equipment across before darkness. The C.S.M. who was in charge of all this spotted me with these two soldiers and asked what we were doing, I told him and his reply was you only need one to carry the PIAT one stays here to help with the job in hand. I was informed later that the other one had been killed later in the day.

We stayed in the village a couple of days, during which I had to take a small standing patrol out one night with instructions not to take chances on being taken prisoners as we could or were up against S.S. troops. At some time during the night we heard sounds we could not account for, being one to follow orders we quickly retreated from our position and reported back. As I recall it the Regiment was aroused and stood to, the mortars stonked the position given, came daylight it was found to be cows! My name was mud, not because of the cows but for the sleep lost - I was only obeying orders.

We left the village the next night and completed a twenty five mile march which seemed never ending; on reaching our destination a replacement officer had such damaged feet he was sent back and we never saw him again. Care of the feet was always a priority, I never suffered with foot trouble, they were my feet and I took care of them.

It was obvious that the war would soon be over, the British and American armies were told not to approach Berlin much against the wishes of Marshal Montgomery, so we headed north east towards the Baltic coast. The last few days or so we travelled quickly in this direction in order to cut off the Russian advance, we used every kind of transport we could lay our hands on, the last lap across the River Elbe I took on a German fire engine; to reach our final destination Bad Kleinen on the shore of Lake Schwerin. During the following two weeks we witnessed the total collapse of the German forces fleeing from the Russians.

On the 6th May there was a Divisional Thanksgiving Service at Wismar, the next day the Regiment provided a Guard of Honour consisting of Major R.A.A. Smith, M.C., and Lt. H.R. Clark, M.C., plus one hundred men, when Marshal Montgomery met Marshal Rokoscovsky.

A certain amount of recreation was allowed during our stay in Bad Kleinen; a visit to Wismar and general relaxation including swimming in the lake which was very inviting after the long slog across Germany. We discovered a large pile of weapons on the bed of the lake, a few feet below of the surface. It would appear the locals had a yacht and a shooting club. The pile consisted of sporting rifles and shot guns - we took our pick, mine being a 16-gauge shot gun, the idea being to conceal them in our rolled up sleeping bags, we knew they would be returned to Bulford by overland transport. At the last moment I decided not to do this; little did we know at the time that when we arrived back all the booty had been stolen - poetic justice or dishonour among thieves?

One sad incident before we left for England was that one of our young lads was killed by one of his mates while messing about with a Loot pistol - a misfortune of war.

The 6th Airborne Division was suddenly ordered back to Bulford on 17th May, flying from an airfield near Celle in U.S. Airforce Dakotas. I believe we flew very low over the Varsity battlefield, to land at Greenham Common and back to Bulford camp.

The reason for our early return was to regroup and train for the Far East where the war was still being fought, we were to take part in Operation Zipper. Fortunately for us the atom bombs were dropped so we were not needed.

Old Friends

Over the next two years we were demobbed and all went our various ways. Though some chaps kept contact, most never saw each other again or at least not for many years. In my case I had one friend in the Regiment, though not from my own Company, with whom I kept in touch. As for the men I lived and nearly died with I never saw them again................ that is until the spring of 1985.

Due to the high losses of glider pilots at Arnhem in September 1944 (Operation Market Garden), it was decided to supplement the glider force with surplus RAF pilots to fly Horsas, with mixed feelings amongst the participants. This was implemented with great success and the privilege to wear the Airborne maroon beret was bestowed on them - and rightly so!

The glider pilot's statistics for Varsity, as I understand were:

Killed:          RAF 61     GPR 38

Wounded     RAF 60     GPR 42

POW           RAF 21     GPR 21

RAF Tug Crews Killed       18

RAF Tug Crews Wounded   5

Our thanks go to the RAF for their participation on Varsity, without them the 'brown jobs' would have found it difficult to carry out a 'one lift' operation.

On Tuesday 14th June I received an email from Peter Collins, the nephew of Geoff Collins, who was one of the pilots of the Horsa I flew in on Operation Varsity. The text reads as follows:

'Hi Godfrey,

I've just had lunch with Geoff Page who, as I'm sure you know, was the second pilot of glider chalk mark 3 with Hugh Clark on board. Des was right behind glider No 1 and saw it being shot down, later to find that some of its undercarriage had hit and damaged their glider. Des was to the left of your glider, flying due east and about to turn south to lose altitude before turning 180 degrees back to the left for the final run in northbound for the bridge. Before they set off, the coup-de-main were debating the plan for the final descent and most of them thought it was too long a flight path and that they should try to descend more quickly. However, the authorities insisted they should stick to the plan. Just before glider 2 turned south, it was hit.

What you may not have known is that one half of your wing was actually blown off and Des remembers seeing it fluttering away to the ground. With one flat missing together with half the wing, Bill would have had to apply full right aileron to stop the glider from spiralling to the left (which would have been unserviceable). With full right aileron keeping the glider from banking left, Bill would have only managed to keep the glider flying straight.

Des and his first pilot observed your plight and decided to disobey orders and start an immediate spiral descent. They took the flaps and set up the highest possible rate of descent to best avoid the flak. They followed your flight path east, turned north just before the motorway and made their landing without flying the southbound leg. There is no doubt that Bill displayed an amazing level of skill in handling the situation. So, I think it is definitely three times lucky!'

Assault Glider Trust

It has been a privilege and a pleasure to be a member of the Assault Glider Trust, so many years after Varsity, to take part in the construction of the only true copy of a wartime assault glider is something that all members of the team can be proud of.

The project is due to the foresight and courage of Ray Conningham, ex-glider pilot GPR, who has made a dream a reality. With still so many months of work to go before completion we are proud of what has been achieved; without the hospitality, generosity and co-operation of RAF Shawbury it is doubtful that this would have been possible.

My Tribute to British Glider Pilots

The Glider Pilot Regiment raised during WWII, or short duration, brought about by wartime necessity and to fulfil a military innovation, although German and Russia were ahead of G.B. [in] this field of warfare, it was soon evident to Winston Churchill that this deficiency must be dealt with quickly. In 1940 he ordered a force of 5,000 parachute troops to be formed, however, it was also realised that a glider force must also be formed, which would also require a large number of glider pilots.

My first encounter with the G.P's was late in 1944 after transferring to the Oxf & Bucks - a glider regiment of the 6th Airborne Div. We accepted the rather dubious "volunteer status" - i.e. on arrival at Wing Barracks, Bulford, Wiltshire, we had the option of leaving the ranks and return to our previous regimental depot, or, standing fast, in which case as I recall one technically became a volunteer potential glider soldier.

After many weeks of rigorous physical training, the high standard of airborne forces was reached, trial glider flights took place and after three flights a small blue glider badge was awarded, worn on the right forearm sleeve. Further training in many subjects followed, eventually to become a self sufficient A/b soldier within the company, platoon, section, etc. I explain these points as the platoon will become the glider combat load, which is where the G.P. Regiment takes over, their story is well documented, but for this narrative I must make a few important points. The potential glider pilot must be a fully trained soldier, rank is no barrier, private to senior officer, providing the necessary requirements are met and able to fight to defend himself on landing alongside his glider load, however, he may be withdrawn from the combat area as soon as possible as his training and individual importance for future operations as paramount, as the losses at Arnhem were to show.

Great feats of airmanship were often displayed during WWII - i.e. D Day, when six Horsa gliders were put down within a few yards of Pegasus and Horsa bridges in the early hours of 6th June 1944 in almost total darkness, perfect planning, timing and the results of first class training; this of course would not have been possible without the skill of the navigation and airmanship of the glider pilot, it has to be the first time, no going round again, remember the saying - "Wot no Engines". In my own experience as a glider trooper on Varsity, with half the port wing shot off, Staff Sgt. Bill Rowland (glider No.2) brought the glider under control sufficient to fly straight and level until a head on crash was inevitable, he could only keep the starboard wing up, no manoeuvre left or right was possible, skill, training and devotion to the task, remember he had 28 airborne soldiers aboard - I was one of them and owe my life to the highly trained pilot on that day.

To sum up who but the British glider pilots would fly a fully loaded Horsa glider in darkness and land within a few yards of the original target area as they did in the early hours of D Day. Who would guide tired hungry battle weary fellow airborne comrades through enemy lines on a dark rainy night, be the tail end charlies, the last to leave the battlefield and cross the river under enemy shell, mortar and machine gun fire as they did at Arnhem. Who would fly into a through heavy A.A. fire in broad daylight from 2,500 feet down to ground level, being blown up, on fire with large portions of the glider shot away, as they did on Varsity, I can vouch for that.

The Glider Pilot Regiment motto, "Nothing is Impossible", is only achieved by airmanship, skill, dedication to the job, despite battlefield conditions, and concern for his soldier comrades whose job is just beginning.

The Story Teller.

Palestine 1945 - 1947

September 31st 1945 we departed Bulford by train for Liverpool and embarked on the troopship Duchess of Bedford, sailing on October 1st at about 08.30 hrs. All was well until we reached the Bay of Biscay, notorious for its temperamental mood, from glass calm to raging seas; we experienced the latter, it is bad enough flying in a glider but this was terrifying, however, we eventually sailed through it and soon got down to army life aboard this large ship - P.T., drill, lectures, boat drill, film shows, church parade on Sundays. October 10th we sighted Haifa and docked but did not disembark until the next morning. So began a new, interesting and sometimes dangerous life, but after WWII what is new?

A most uncomfortable 115 mile train journey took us south east to a tented camp set up just outside a little town called Gaza some twelve hours later. The world was to hear a lot about this town over the next sixty years or so. We were in this camp perhaps only several days, then moved about sixty miles north to El Ein, another tented camp. By this time we were beginning to get acclimatised, sand in everything, flies and Arab children, what a change from Europe. It was on this journey that our commanding officer, Lt. Col. Mark Darrell-Brown was injured in a jeep accident - I never saw him again.

The last night at El Ein saw the beginning of winter rains - snakes, scorpions and other nasties came out of the many cracks in the earth. Everything had to be carried to the nearest tarmac road for our move to Camp 22, near the Settlement of Nathanya, near the coast on the 19th November, a much better camp with hardstands for tents and many permanent buildings. Here life began to settle down and we became involved in the activities of internal security work, details of this situation are well documented, but suffice to say we hoped to calm the troubles between Palestinian Arabs and Israeli Jews, a very dangerous and highly political situation. We soon became "pig in the middle", although our relations with the Arabs were good, I feel with sympathised with them unofficially, whereas the Israelis were aggressive and supplied the terrorism against Arab and British service personnel alike.

During the two years I served there, although there were many good times, you always lived well aware that anything could happen at any moment. Our main duty was to support law and order by backing up the Palestinian police when required, i.e., when security service indicated that arms and explosives etc were suspected to be hidden in a given Settlement. The police would organise a raid and we would follow them up in order to prevent interference from occupiers of the Settlement. In some cases the object of the raid would be to seek out terrorists, in raids such as this the Israeli women would be very hostile and violent towards us and could and would inflict injuries to the troops. These situations had to be handled with care and diplomacy. British personnel were kidnapped and in some cases shot or hung. We wearers of the maroon beret were very vulnerable in these circumstances - we were sometimes referred to as the Briitish S.S. The 6th Airborne Division lost a number of men in this way.

On a more personal note, apart from the above mentioned conditions, I quite enjoyed being there, visiting the many biblical sites etc. Military life was very eventful; we were stationed in Jerusalem, several times for fairly long periods, guard duties at police stations, Barclays Bank in the city, etc. I was selected as a member of a guard of honour to the Emir of Jordan at Haifa docks, supplied by the 52nd - we were lined up in guard formation, he inspected every man in turn, tragically he was assassinated shortly afterwards; he was a small man with a neat close beard who looked you in the eye, he impressed me and I never forgot what I saw. On another occasion I was special escort to General Montgomery along with Captain Dennis Fox and two other members of the Regiment.

I witnessed the blowing up of the King David Hotel in Jerusalem which killed many people - a Jewish terror act. I had not long arrived back at Alamein Camp on the Bethlehem road after 48 hour guard at Government House, the residence of the British High Commissioner. I quite by chance slipped out of my tent which faced the city and saw the explosion. On another occasion the Goldsmith Officers Club was also blown up - again Jewish terrorists. Sometimes we had to search parts of the city looking for terrorists or kidnapped senior personnel.

While all this was going on training continued, either by Platoon or Company, individual courses for N.C.Os were often on the board; I did several and after a month training at the Middle East Training Centre at Gaza qualified as a sniper instructor, all of which added to my promotion. I was also a member of the Regimental cross country team which sometimes got me off various duties. Cross country often had to be done under escort due to the possibility of kidnap or assassination by terrorists.

Guard on Government House was a 48 hour stint and if I remember rightly a full Company event being split into various guards. The main one being the main gate with a full Corporal or Sergeant as guard commander, dress had to be on top line every minute of the 48 hours; fortunately this guard did not come round very often. On the occasion of my duty my guard got a commendation from the High Commissioner, General Sir Allan Cunningham, on their turn out after his inspection; I was informed of this by my Company Commander on our return to camp, with the rider - don't let it go to your head as I should be going on that guard again shortly - not the best liked officer in the Regiment. John Thorn has now returned, commissioned into the Regiment as a 2nd Lieutenant at last.

During the latter months we were joined by a number of officers who appeared to be very inexperienced, they were posted as Platoon Commanders; at the time I was acting Platoon Sergeant of my Platoon, the officer in question was honest enough to admit the shortfall, the suggestion was that I carried on as usual but to keep him informed of what was going to happen, etc, this worked very well with us but was not always successful with some Platoons.

Having been back to England after eighteen months, on leave for a month, my service was coming to an end, like so many young men, in my case four years of my early life had been spent serving my country, I was thankful to have survived, made and lost many friends and found myself very unprepared for the future; fate had, on reflection, been very good to me, or was it Lady Luck?

Conclusions

I refer the reader to my introduction explaining the circumstances surrounding the compilation of these narratives, a simple village lad going to war.

My village pre-war education did not provide me with the academic ability to write a book, not that I wished to do so, in any case I never felt I had sufficient background material to provide an interesting read.

I have been fortunate to have had a fairly varied and interesting military life during which time I have been lucky and it is only over the last few years, on reflection that I have come to appreciate this, at the time of writing I approach my 82nd birthday, a long time since the trauma of "Varsity", all my close comrades of that event have now passed on, to name the last few - Ted Noble, Paddy Anton and recently Tom Packwood; these brothers in arms have become very dear to me over the last few years and tend to leave one feeling very sad at times.

There is a saying which I believe in, which is - "any man who feels ashamed to or cannot shed a tear for his fallen comrades has no soul".

I have recently been back to the Salisbury Plains area which was our base training area and in military terms our home, it was also where my last three friends lived, the visit although brief left me feeling very sad after a wonderful friendship of many years standing, however, we must all accept totally that for each of us there is a time to be born, a time to live, and a time to die.

FATE?

or

LADY LUCK?

G. A. YARDLEY

After Thoughts

The writing of these memoirs has at this stage almost come the end, but not quite the end, as in doing so had stimulated some after thoughts, maybe too late to be included in the main text, but which I feel should not be left out as they were an important part of my life, the enjoyment of occasions, but more important, the memory of the friends involved.

I may have already mentioned that a little group of us were keen dancers in those days, memories of the "Big Band" music, highlighted by the presence of the American Forces, provided us all with an enjoyable and innocent pastime, the swing music had meaningful lyrics, always telling a story or feelings - not like the repetitive loud noise of today, this is proven by the continued popularity of swing music and accompanying ballads, this opening explanation is to set the scene for the following memories.

As previously explained, our base camp for the 6th Airborne was Bulford on Salisbury Plain, the 2nd Oxf. and Bucks occupying "Wing Barracks", about two or three miles from the village of Amesbury, quite close to Boscombe Downs R.A.F. Station, and Stonehenge. Amesbury boasted a few pubs, shops, and more importantly, a dance hall, which was our usual port of call whenever possible. Myself, Slim Cohen, Joe Driscoll and Tom Burleigh to name but a few were quite well known to the extent that when there was room we often got a lift back to camp with the Red Caps - not under arrest I might add! A few of us had regular dancing partners mine was an Irish W.A.A.F. corporal from Boscombe, which often meant a good walk back to camp after seeing the girls safely back to their base - a mere stroll for us in those days, however, I remember on one occasion a Humber staff car pulled up and offered us a lift, in the car were two A.T.S. officers, which did not put us off on this occasion as the car swung left off the Andover road towards Bulford the headlights illuminated a couple unashamedly making love against a gate - needless to say this brought a banging on the car horn and loud whoops from us all. Such were the diversions from warlike activities!

One tragic aftermath of this time was that a chap out of our Company had a local girlfriend from Salisbury with whom he became really serious, despite our efforts to dissuade him as both were married. He was a tall ginger haired chap, smart, and a first class dancer, he came from somewhere in Lancashire. When we had been in Palestine some time he decided to write and confess his relationship, shortly after posting the letter he was taken ill and was on his way to hospital in Jerusalem in an ambulance when the driver decided to race a train over an open level crossing; he did not make it and was killed, but the driver was lucky. How cruel fate can be; how much difference it would have made to his wife if he had not confessed we shall never know, certainly "Lady Luck" was absent on this occasion.

I did not return to Bulford / Amesbury for many years after my demob in 1947. The first time was on my return from a business trip south with a work friend and we decided to stay the night in Amesbury. We booked into The George Hotel for the night; in my wartime days The George was officer territory; what a difference from those days - it was quite dingy but because of nostallgia it was acceptable. After checking in, too early for dinner, we walked down the street to look for the old dance hall, what a disappointment, it was now a car showroom, what did I expect, was I looking for ghosts? Some years later we made several trips south to visit some wartime friends, I made a point of going into Tidworth, turning right across the ranges into Bulford Camp, Amesbury, Boscombe Down, into Salisbury. On one trip I decided once again to go into Amesbury - now the old dance hall was a car park - end of story - only memories are now left, soon they may also disappear like my friends.

END.

Godfrey Yardley retired to Lilleshall, Shropshire. He passed away on the 21st November 2015.

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