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Private Rodney Albert Hall
Unit : Support Company, 2nd Battalion The South Staffordshire Regiment
Army No. : 6104442
Awards : Military Medal
Writing about his arrival in North Africa in the months before Operation Husky, Rodney Hall wrote: "We were taken under the wing of the Americans, moved by them lock, stock and barrel into the area of Mascara where we were shown a rough 'field' of stand, stone etc. and were told 'make yourself comfortable'. And so, in this seeming wasteland, the 'North African Adventure' began. If there was one good thing that came out of our predicament, it was the American 'K' rations': thank God for the Americans, they saved our bacon'. If there is one thing I remember, it was the daily C-47, which flew away to return a few hours later loaded with ice cream. For the poor British serviceman this was an absolutely unbelievable luxury (not that we got any!). Another matter, which concerned me at the time, and I suppose, now, was that the reservoir for the largely Arab town must have held at least 500,000 gals of water and, which I am sure they must have had a special plant to clarify their water, the largely Arab population was perhaps unaware that our (about 1000 South Staffords) were using their reservoir as a daily bathing area (none other existed). We were allowed two minutes in which to jump in, wash ourselves down and climb out, timed by an officer whose duty it was to keep a stopwatch and who meticulously observed the time limits. This was, of course, very much to the amusement of the Americans who carried with them all the ablution equipment essential for their armed forces. The essential equipment for us was an entrenching tool and instructions to 'dig a suitable hole' and cover it with earth. Toilet paper was rationed to four sheets per man and came up with the rations and became largely known as one up, one down, one across and one for polishing."
For the duration of the invasion, Private Hall was a part of "Simforce"; an ad-hoc unit commanded by Captain Simonds, cobbled together 36 hours before take-off when a few additional gliders became available. His glider, "Z", reached Sicily but at some distance from the Landing Zone: "On landing we hit a stone wall which in Sicily, at that time, appeared to be commonplace. There was not sufficient light to see clearly where we were or to sort out the uninjured from those still able to stand. I do not believe that anybody became unconscious because of this crash-landing and as far as I am aware, the only casualty was Sergeant Caulkin who, I later learned, had broken his ankle. After we had gathered our thoughts, which did not take very long, it was decided that we would try to find a road or lane that would lead us to the 'Waterloo' bridge. We made our way towards the odd flashes and bangs that indicated some sort of action was taking place. At some stage, we met up with a group (I think from B Company), lost like ourselves, but making towards what sounded like activity. Later, I found myself in the middle of the road with my pistol while (I think) Lieutenant Reynolds accompanied me, walking along the edge and carrying my Bren gun. We had not travelled very far when we were stopped by remnants of another platoon of Staffords whose progress had been halted by a machine gun, mounted on fixed lines, covering a cross-roads a little way ahead. I was ordered to fire a burst of machine into, what we thought was, a concrete pillbox which was immediately answered by a burst of machine-gun fire down the road, not in my direction at all. Sometime after dawn, our thoughts were directed to loud hailing from an area not too far in front. Together with a few others, we made our way to the area, passing on the way, and entirely on his own, a man in British uniform with War Correspondent flashes, who introduced himself as we ran past, as Roddy McDowell. He wanted to ask us various questions but we did not have time to stop, our destination at the bottom of the road and with shouts of 'come on Staffords' we arrived at the bridge."
Later in the day, 10th July: "As the detonation explosive had failed, the enemy began shelling the bridge, very accurately. The gun was situated between five and ten miles away and was firing on fixed lines. Lieutenant Reynolds brief was to take his section over the canal, under and out in front of the bridge. A narrow ditch, some 2 ft 6 in deep gave scant but suitable cover as we ran along the ditch, parallel with the road. On the bridge, there appeared to be a small delivery lorry with a man, long dead, sprawled over the front. A bend in the ditch brought us directly in line of fire with a blockhouse; one window type hole gave adequate vision of our presence. We stopped to consider the next move. Lieutenant Reynolds decided that our force of five was not sufficient to mount an attack on the blockhouse and he sent two back to the safety of the canal bank. The shelling had, by this time, become spasmodic but just as accurate. Unfortunately, the missile had arrived and exploded before you knew it was coming. This is one of the most terrifying aspects of being under shellfire, not knowing when the missile was to arrive but, being well aware that the missile must be within inches as it passes over your head. The little advantage we had was that the gun, mounted on the railway, must have been fired from a set position and each time it was fired the puff, puff, puff, of the engine, put the gun back into position but gave us sufficient time to retreat to the canal bank and safety. It was decided that we would return to the bank two by two. The puff, puff, puff of the engine to a large extent, gave us the knowledge that the gun would fire immediately it was in position. Private Blakemore, Lieutenant Reynolds' batman, and another man were the first to leave, they had run no more than 50 yards down the ditch when the next shell arrived killing them instantly. This was no time to consider what would have happened, or what could have happened, we were now under intense small-arms fire as well as shellfire. I must here note that the shellfire was not directed at us but was intended to destroy the bridge. The small-arms fire was, however, intended for us and evacuation from this very inhospitable point was resumed with Lieutenant Reynolds and one other, making their way back to the canal bank while I gave covering fire. When they arrived at the canal bank, a suitable signal brought me running to join them as fast as my legs would carry me. At this point, there was considerable confusion. Hidden from the enemy by the canal bank, there was quite a welter of orderly retreating soldiers across the canal, assisted by Danet style (the round stuff) barbed wire. Having reached the comparative safety of the island in the middle of the bridge, and just before the sweet water canal, which was only about 6 ft across, I came across a wounded Italian who by pushing his helmet and making a scooping motion, showed me that he wanted some water. Some of our men had been killed jumping this narrow stretch to where we had set up a kind of HQ on the bank between the canal and the river. Having given the Italian his water, I then jumped the canal and took up position trying to face the enemy who by this time were engaging us by heavy gunfire and in this situation, surrounded by dead and wounded, an Officer whom I did not know, said the position was untenable and wished everybody good luck, suggested we surrender and the remaining ten or so of those left alive, surrendered to the Italians having been ordered to throw all arms and ammunition plus anything else of a descriptive nature into the deepest part of the river."
"We then surrendered to the enemy and were marched to a small hut adjacent
of the bridge where we were searched and anything of any consequence was removed
and the march back into the interior began. Our Italian captors were decidedly
'jumpy' and after two, perhaps three miles of rough terrain, we began to walk
along a Tarmac road heading, it would seem, towards Syracuse. We came to a
clearing at the side of the road close to a field of maize and while sitting,
standing, sprawling, in this very small lay-by (by then we were all dog tired,
including the Italians), there was a sudden burst of firing from the roadway
some ten foot above us and a section of the British Army came into view. One or
two of our Italian captors attempted to engage the British soldiers and were
immediately shot for their trouble. We persuaded the remaining Italians to hand
over their weapons, which they did, and the captors became the captives and were
handed over to the advancing British troops."
"Believing that having been rescued by the British Army we would be taken back to their HQ where we would be generally feted, welcomed, treated as heroes and given then inevitable 'char and wads' when somewhere through this mist, or dream of good times to come, I heard our Lieutenant thanking the Officer leading the section of our relieving troops and adjusting my ears, I heard him say 'we will now return and finish the job by recapturing the bridge'. Arming ourselves with the Italian weapons, we made up a force of about twenty men and we set off, most of us half asleep, to return to the bridge. Ducking and diving through the countryside, expecting to be shot at any minute by the enemy or, as we were pushing our way through no-man's land, the British army would have been justified in 'polishing us off'. Later, that same day, the bridge came into sight and I have a dim recollection of storming the bridge or whatever the expression may be used, but quite what we did or how we did it, I cannot recall. Mr Reynolds had a fairly short up-to-date modern rifle, (by modern, Italian style issued I would have thought in the closing months of the First World War). My own weapon, some 6 ft maybe 6 ft 6 in long and advancing as if in the fashion of bayoneting anyone who stood in my way. The next thing I remember is going to find the wounded Italian that I had left earlier that day with the hat full of water. He had managed to crawl into a sandbagged position on the seaward side of the island in the middle. He was terrified and the other man and I tried to persuade him to come out. During the interim period, the East Surreys had come up to the bridge and taken over. I ran back to the parapet of the bridge and asked for a stretcher. Within a few moments, (it seemed like a few moments) two Medics appeared with a stretcher and with considerable difficulty the four of us got him back to the bridge. I say with considerable difficulty because in moving him from the blockhouse, he had grasped the hand of one of us and refused under any circumstances to release it, which made the job of the remaining three all the more difficult because although getting across the narrow waterway (the sweet water section of the river) was difficult in the extreme, getting him, the stretcher, over the parapet which must have been six or seven foot higher than the bank was a monumental task for even at this stage he refused to release the hand he was holding and in this fashion, he was taken to an ambulance where a suitable drug was used to relax him. On climbing the parapet and reaching the bridge, I remember so many bodies, soldiers, English, Italian, even civilians all around me. I was beckoned back to the bank by Lieutenant Reynolds who, together with others, was retrieving our weapons from the river. I remembered at that moment where I had thrown my Bren gun and in the same vicinity, my revolver. Stripped to the waist, and wearing my underpants I jumped into the river and pulled out all the weapons I could find, all the while fending off the bodies of my one time comrades in arms. A most objectionable job. Fully dressed and complete with my weaponry, plus a couple of magazines full of unused rounds, I was then taken into Syracuse where a roll call was taken and only 72 out of the 800 who set off, responded. At this time, we were also asked to report anybody killed, wounded etc. that we might have seen and were informed at that time that men were coming in from all sides where their gliders had crash-landed in out of the way places. After three or four days (it seemed) guarding the Italian prisoners, quartered in the Railway station, we left Syracuse in an LCI and arrived a few hours later back in our camp at Sousse, North Africa. Only then did we learn of the horrendous loss of life suffered by casting off the gliders over the Mediterranean before Sicily was in sight. Apportionment of blame I leave to people better able to judge than I. The hands that wrote of the dead 'Killed in Action' or "Killed on Active Service' (there is a difference!), also sorted out the medals for the survivors. I thank God it was not a task for me."
For his actions during the invasion, Private Hall was awarded the Military Medal. His citation reads:
South East Sicily 9th/10th July 1943. This soldier was the only Bren gunner in a small force of ten and was ordered to cover their withdrawal across the River Anapo. This he did successfully although under heavy machine gun, shell and mortar fire. During the remainder of the operation his behaviour was exemplary and despite overwhelming opposition he kept his gun in action until he ran out of ammunition. He then continued to fight with his rifle. His personal bravery was an inspiration to his comrades.
In September 1944, Hall took part in the Battle of Arnhem, then a member of the Staffords' No.21 Platoon of "D" Company. Like so many of his comrades, he was taken prisoner here, most probably in the heavy fighting around the Museum and St. Elizabeth Hospital area on Tuesday 19th September. He was sent to Stalag XIIA at Limburg, but was likely transferred to another camp after only a short stay.