27/06/41
… During the moon periods Jerry and sometimes even the Italians honoured us with frequent visits. Our hospitality was such that he often came to stay. No, Jerry definitely didn’t like Malta and he was only too pleased to jettison his bombs as soon as he possibly could…
I had a friend in Malta, a kind hearted, contented orange grower, a man with ill-feelings towards no one, yet a low flying Messerschmitt thought otherwise, he dived on him, as he was working and machine gunned him. A few days later he showed me the holes in the wall and a bullet; fortunately the pilot’s aim was bad. The following day I saw the charred, mangled remains of a German pilot; the awful sight did not make me sick. I had very little pity towards him, the unmerciful. Sorry to have kept to one subject, but there are plenty more letters following.
Your loving son
Geoff Stillingfleet’s squadron was evacuated from the island in 1941 after suffering high losses, although in his opinion his subsequent posting to North Africa was no easier with the trials of desert warfare. But it was to prove a brief sojourn and he was soon back on Malta. In April 1942 King George VI awarded the George Cross to the island ‘to bear witness to the heroism and devotion of its people’ in the face of the sustained assaults by the Axis forces. The siege itself would not be over until May 1943.
148 Squadron
RAF, H.Q., M.E
19/8/41
Dear Mum and Dad,
A friend of mine will very shortly be returning to England so I am writing this special letter for him to take with him. I say ‘special letter’ because as this will not be censored I shall be able to give you a good deal of information which otherwise I could not write.
In a letter written previously (it’s enclosed with this) I have described the Malta air raids. Well these air-raids eventually drove us from the island; our squadron suffered more from air-raids than probably any other squadron in the war. It has been estimated that over 600 tons of high explosive was dropped on our tiny aerodrome. Anyway, March 26th saw us embarking on HMS Bonaventure bound for Alexandria, incidentally this was the last voyage she completed before being sunk.
We had six or seven days in which to settle down at Kahit which was to be our main base shared by 10 Squadron. On April 5th a squadron detachment was sent out to form an advanced base in Libya. Eight lorry loads were sent out on the 100-mile journey; we followed several days later by air. I soon discovered that desert life was no picnic, drinking distilled seawater, which was hot and salty; it didn’t quench our thirst but just kept us alive. There was nothing we could get that would quench our thirst, in fact we had a perpetual thirst which at nights almost drove us crazy. Thirst is a terrible thing, but the imagination is the worst; we would lay awake at nights thinking of milkshakes, lemonades, cider and ice cold water from mountain streams. In the day time we were nearly driven crazy by the terrific heat and thousands of flies. At night the lice, bugs and cockroaches tormented us and the sandstorms arose covering our mouths, noses and hair with fine sand… Our worst experience was when we force landed at El-Adim. El-Adim was an Italian aerodrome situated in a no-mans-land somewhere between an advancing enemy and retreating British forces. Actually most of the fighting was going on further north, but nevertheless there were plenty of Jerry patrols active. The situation wouldn’t have been so serious but for the fact that we had smashed the tail wheel on landing. We stayed there two days, and a night, before we were able to get our kite in the air… We spent the time doing as much destruction as possible, shooting at the mess crockery with Italian rifles, and spraying the windows with machine gun bullets. We also painted rude pictures of Hitler and Mussolini on the wall.
After a week’s rest we again went on detachment but this time back to Malta. We first flew to Alexandria where we spent the night. The following afternoon we flew via Crete and Sicily to Malta. We spent a very enjoyable fortnight in Malta, during which time we were raiding Tripoli. Tripoli was an interesting target inasmuch as it had as much A.A. fire as any place in Germany. A great deal of it was tracer; there was so much of it that one marvelled that anyone could fly through it and not get hit. On our first visit we bombed too low and we came back more in the nature of a flying pepper pot.
On May 8th we started and are still doing what must be the longest operations in the war; the operations I refer to were those on Benghazi, they were over four hours longer than the famous trips to Venice, Milan and Turin. These Benghazi trips took twelve hours flying broken by a brief halt at an advanced base for re-fuelling.
Just before the invasion of Crete we did a number of long operations to concentrations of enemy aircraft in Greece. These trips were ten hours and another two hours returning from the advance base. During the Crete invasion we were particularly busy, each night would see twenty heavy bombers over there. We had a terrible mission, to bomb then machine gun the enemy positions and also to drop medical supplies and ammunition to our troops. Of course these were not our only targets, we have raided Searparto, Rhodes Island, Derna, Gazala, Benino, Bardia, Bairut [sic], Allepo. Since leaving England I have flown over fourteen countries.
I am in a new crew at present, and it’s one of the best crews in the squadron. Our captain has done 40 raids and has a DFC for a low level attack on the Kiel Canal. His speciality is dive-bombing. Slowly flying over a target is not so much a thrill as a strain, you just sit, make yourself as small as possible and watch the ‘flak’ coming up at you. Dive-bombing, however, is not such a strain but is just one minute of intense action and excitement. After dropping the flares, we approach the target at say 10,000 feet; the pilot suddenly shoves the stick forward and we hurtle earthwards at between 300 and 400mph. We pull-out of the dive at about 2,000 feet, sometimes much lower, and of course its then that we meet the trouble, every gun in creation seems to be firing at us. In a bright moon they can see us [at] the bottom of the dive so we gunners retaliate by firing at these ground defences and if they are Italian gunners they immediately stop firing and dive for shelter…
Operations are like many other things, when going out or over the target, I feel a little uneasy and I make up my mind that I hate it, and that I will give up the whole game as soon as I can, and yet on the return trip and when on the ground I decide I want to continue doing ‘ops’ as long as possible. Actually they must have a certain hold on me, they act rather like a stimulant or drug for when-ever I am on the ground for a few days, I start getting irritable, depressed and discontented…
Just a few final words, don’t worry, it’s not half as dangerous as it sounds. On the Corinth Raid, which was considered an exceptionally dangerous one, there were forty aircraft operating, thirty-two were dropping bombs and making low-level attacks to draw the fire away from the mine-laying aircraft. Total casualties, two people slightly injured by shrapnel. Remember also, if we ever should get hit, I can bale out in twenty seconds. Another thing, should I be reported missing the chances are I shall be a prisoner of war, or at any rate safe.
Well I don’t think there is anything more to say. I hope you are all as well and happy as I am.
Your loving son
Ever since his arrival in North Africa in February 1941, Erwin Rommel, later known as the ‘Desert Fox’, had sought to go on the offensive against the British and Commonwealth forces. At the end of March 1941 he made his move. The Afrika Korps drove the British back and isolated and surrounded the Libyan port of Tobruk, starting what was to be an eight-month siege. Captain Gordon Clover served with the 149th Anti-Tank Regiment, Royal Artillery, and recorded life under siege in a detailed letter to a friend.
149 A. TK. Regt, RA
M.E.F.
14 Oct 1941
My dear Bill,
Your letter dated 5th September arrived safely. Thank you so much. It is grand to hear from you at any time and especially so under the present circumstances of my existence. I was very glad to hear that you and Rosemary are well and happy. I’m in the same condition of body and mind myself as a matter of
fact!
Every condition of one’s life that I have experienced so far has its [redeeming], amusing and enjoyable parts. I have come to find it a rule of life. Every time that things get worse life still remains humorous and even enjoyable when you think it is not going to be! Experiences such as this damned well help you not to dread anything.
Let me describe shortly my immediate surroundings. I am sitting at a [rough] table in a deep dugout built of sandbags and old ammunition boxes and covered with a great variety of scrap… It is dark. There is a hurricane lamp on the table giving a dim light and throwing strange, dark shadows on the walls [of] the canvas, indeed nothing can be seen clearly a few feet from the lamp. Rats are scurrying around the sandbags, sending trickles of sand down the earth walls… I am warm (winter is beginning)… Jerry Jones (who sends you his love) sits on the other side of the table playing what he calls ‘golf’ with a pack of cards. I have a packet of ‘Woodhams’ beside me (I have had a weakness for ‘Woodhams’ since about 1920 when I used to smoke them…) and my rum ration. The rum is good and strong and makes one tingle all over. Now doesn’t that describe a happy situation for a fellow who is making himself live from day to day without worrying about the future?
We are ‘in action’ somewhere in a desert (I mustn’t say which!). There are a variety of explosions – not near enough to cause any anxiety – there are machine guns going off intermittently. When things ‘hot up’ a bit, as they probably will in an hour of two, I shall pop my head out of the dugout to watch the streams of flames and coloured lights and tracer bullets. The firework display is often worth seeing and it is interesting to know in which sector it is happening (if not in one’s own!) and then speculate what, if anything it signifies.
Now let me reassure you, if it is necessary, this may all sound alarming, but it isn’t really, even to me, and I should know! It is amazing how few casualties there are, even when things are hottest. You are as safe in a dugout as slit trench as anyone can expect to be, and (I have seen it happen as well as heard of it happening numerous times) shells and bullets can be all over the place causing a great deal of noise, and yet no one [is] even hurt…
The things I do find a bit alarming, especially at night, are the landmines. They are everywhere and no one [here] knows exactly where they are. The anti-tank ones are not supposed to go off if a man treads on them. The British ones are probably fairly safe in this respect. But there are a lot of fancy ones which our troops hid in haste … and if you are near them they say it is unwise to breathe heavily!… Another of our lads volunteered to guide a truck loaded with some of our ‘foreign allies’ through a minefield close to us. He led it straight into a mine which exploded. He was knocked flat on his face, the truck was blown up and all the ‘foreigners’ jumped out, shouting and cursing in about six different languages!… Well, old boy, you know the rest…
All the best Bill, old man. See you both, I hope, before too long. The war can’t last forever and we are bound to win! Cheerioh!
Your ever,
Gordon
While the British position remained perilous in the Middle East, a new threat arose in Asia: Japan. Manchuria was occupied in 1931, followed by the outbreak of war with China in 1937 and border clashes with the Soviets in 1939. Following the outbreak of the Second World War in the west, Japan sought to take advantage of the colonial powers’ weakness by occupying all of French Indochina in July 1941. The relentless Japanese advance had provoked an American embargo on supplying oil to Japan, a position followed by the British and Dutch authorities in the region. Japan had been pushing aggressively outwards in the region in search of the natural resources needed to maintain her growing empire and, deprived of access to vital raw materials, decided to take what they needed by force and launched a concerted attack on the US naval base at Pearl Harbor and Dutch and British colonial possessions in the region in early December 1941.
Lance Corporal John Wyatt served with the 2nd Battalion, East Surrey Regiment, as the British struggled to contain the Japanese invasion of Malaya.
L/C J. Wyatt
D Coy
British Battalion
Malaya
Dec 21-41
Dear Mum & Dad & Elsie,
Hope this finds you as safe & as well as I am at present… Well mum before I start I would like you all to give thanks to God at church for the mercy he has shown not only to me but to the whole Battalion. 3 times I have just waited for death but with God’s help I am still here. I have felt all along that with all your prayers God would keep me safe. I will only give you one instance of it. 10 of us were in a trench in a little … village in the jungle, we were told last man last round, for we were surrounded by Japs and as they were closing in on all sides some of the chaps were saying good-bye to each other, and I was really frightened at the thought of dying but as the minutes dragged on I resigned myself to it, then all of a sudden 3 aircraft came over, was they ours?…
Down came the bombs all round us, all we could do as we crouched there was to wait for one to hit us, but that good old trench saved our lives for it swayed and rocked with the impact, about one minute after they flew off believe it or not 4 tanks rumbled up the road, and [gave] our position hell. They flung everything at us, grenades, machine guns, but still we crouched in that little trench. We could not return fire for if we had showed our heads over the little trench the advancing Japs were machine gunning us, all of a sudden we heard a shout ‘run for it lads’, did we run, but the last I saw of the brave officer who said it, I shall never forget him, as we ran past him I saw him pistol in hand pointing it at the Japs holding them off while we got away. I haven’t seen him since.
Anyway we waded through about a mile of padi, bullets whistling past all the time, but we reached the jungle and safety, then on to find the British lines, we tramped 30 miles that day living on jungle fruits. The fight started at 7 in the morning, we reached safety at 5 at night. Then for sleep, food, clean clothes, shave, for we had been at the front for 8 days without sleep or clean clothes, for we have lost everything, the Japs have got everything, all my personal stuff, photos, prayer book, everything, but thank God I am still here. Most of the Battalion reached safety but a lot of poor chaps are still missing, some of my friends too… Excuse pencil as this is the first chance I have had to write in a fortnight, so please make do with this. Keep smiling Elsie & I hope to see you next year xxxxxxx.
Well mum our worries are over, we have just been told that we are moving back, and our job is to stop looting so all our fighting is finished… We certainly knocked the old Japs about while we [were] there did we, we are miles better than them and we are sorry we wont be able to get another smack at them, I will have to hurry as the candle is burning out. So I will say good-bye for now, Dorrie xxxx. Jimmy, George, Mrs Ward, Church, rest of family and neighbours, please don’t worry, God bless you all and keep you safe.
Your ever loving son,
John
xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxx
xxxxx
The Japanese steadily advanced down the Malayan peninsula until they came to the city of Singapore, the ‘Gibraltar of the East’ and a major British naval base. The city came under siege on 8 February 1942 and fell to the Japanese on 15 February 1942, described by Winston Churchill as the ‘worst disaster and largest capitulation in British history’. Lieutenant Colonel Tim Taylor was one of the lucky few who managed to escape just before the fall of the city.
Colombo
10 March 1942
The thought of how much I have to tell you rather appals me. You know that I want to tell it to you and I love writing to you, but this will be a volume before I finish. I’ll say straight away very briefly how I got here and then I’ll go into details of the story.
I was ordered away, quite unexpectedly, on Friday, 13th February, heading for Java. We were bombed at sea next morning and made for the nearest land… We crossed that by slow stages, in various forms of transport and left the [censored] in a wa
rship, and arrived at Java on the 22nd February. We had a few days there and then came on here – were ‘torpedoed-at’, but they went underneath! and I’m now awaiting orders for the next stage. A month ago I was resigned for what seemed inevitable – being a prisoner of the Japs – and now things are altered completely.
That’s the bald outline and I’ll try and fill in the details. I’d better start way back when I moved out of the Adelphi and went to share a house with Braithwaite and Shean…
We were getting a fair amount of bombing at night just then as there was a moon out and there again we were well off, as the town was the usual target and we could lie in bed and feel that we were reasonably safe. By day the bombing was increasing and they had an almost daily visit to the docks area. I spent many an hour in the Railway Station shelter waiting for things to clear.
Those evacuations! The more I saw of them the more I was pleased you got away when you did. As soon as I had finished my job of getting people off ships we were hard at it putting women on, usually by night to avoid what raids we could. The scrum of cards and people in those docks was indescribable and when an alert went I had many anxious moments before all was clear again. Bombs in those crowds would have caused absolute chaos, but we were fortunate and nothing happened till the last afternoon I was in Singapore, when there were some casualties unfortunately. Three of us were on a big ship when one went right down an open hold, but again we were lucky and merely felt a bit shaken…
Letters from the Front: From the First World War to the Present Day Page 13