February crept on and every day seemed more and more unreal with the Japs getting closer and closer to Singapore. Soon we had to leave the house as it was getting near the front line and we all lived in our offices after that. Shelling started then and the war was right on our doorstep. Our batteries fired all day and night from positions around Canning and the Jap used to bomb and shell them in return… Meanwhile my job was slowly closing down as all ships were getting away and if you ever got a couple of letters I wrote hurriedly and sent to you in those last days you’ll have realised that it looked as if I was going to put people on ships until there were none left and then sit down and wait for the Japs. I didn’t expect to go myself as there had been no talk of any of us leaving up till then.
Lieutenant William Leefe Robinson VC, famed for shooting down a Zeppelin over London during the First World War. © IWM (Documents 200)
Corporal Laurie Rowlands, 15th Battalion, Durham Light Infantry, experienced his ‘baptism of fire’ on the Ypres Salient. © IWM (Documents 2329)
Company Sergeant Major Milne, 1/5th Battalion, Seaforth Highlanders, who fought in the Second Battle of the Marne in July 1918. © IWM (Documents 1635)
Sergeant Francis Herbert Gautier, who wrote a heart-rendering letter to his daughter, Marie, after he’d been wounded. He sent similar letters to other family members. Courtesy of the family of F. Gautier.
Reverend Canon Cyril Lomax, a Church of England Army chaplain, served with the Durham Light Infantry in France from July 1916 to April 1917. He illustrated his letters from the front line, providing his family with an insight into the first tank attack (top) and the arrival of post in a billet (bottom). © IWM (Documents 1289)
Men and horses from the Cavalry Division, British Expeditionary Force, retreat from Mons, August 1918. © IWM (Q 60695)
Front line trenches during the First World War. © IWM (Q 4649)
A Company, 11th Battalion, Cheshire Regiment, occupy a captured German trench at Ovillers-la-Boisselle on the Somme in July 1916. One soldier is on sentry duty, using an improvised fire step cut into the slope of the trench. The more established fire step facing the other way was used by the Germans before the trench was turned. © IWM (Q 3990)
The trench system was often very confusing due to the sheer number of trench lines and the ziz-zagged pattern they followed. As a result, the different trenches often gained their own names, as seen here. © IWM (Q 4180)
This letter, written in the shape of a kiss, was sent by George Hayman, a private in the Lancashire Fusiliers, to his wife in June 1916 before he was sent to France. He died two months later. © IWM (Documents 1647)
Captain Samuel Gordon served with the British Army as a doctor during D-Day on an American Landing Ship Tank (LST) which was later used to evacuate casualties. © IWM (Documents 774)
Lance Corporal John A. Wyatt, 2nd Battalion, East Surrey Regiment. He fought to contain the Japanese invasion of Malaya in 1941. © IWM (Documents 8531)
Bob Connolly, an NCO with 8th Battalion, Rifle Brigade, on his wedding day. Connolly landed on Juno Beach on 13 June 1944 and took part in a number of battles around Caen. © IWM (Documents 13168)
Lieutenant Brin L. Francis, 8th (Belfast) Heavy Anti Aircraft Regiment, Royal Artillery, served in the Far East, while his brother, David, was involved in fighting around Caen in 1944. © IWM (Documents 8240)
‘The Withdrawal from Dunkirk, June 1940’ by Charles Ernest Cundall. The troop-filled beaches, evacuation attempts by the Royal Navy and bombing by the Luftwaffe are all clear to see. © IWM (ART LD 305)
In a posed propaganda photograph British pilots are seen ‘scrambling’ to their aircraft during the height of the Battle of Britain. © IWM (HU 49253)
The Blitz: a Heinkel He 111 bomber flies over London on 7 September 1940. © IWM (C 5422)
Captain Christopher Cross of 2nd Battalion, Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry, is shown here relaxing and writing. He took part in the glider landings across Normandy in June 1944. © IWM (Documents 771)
The 5th Cameron Highlanders prepare Christmas puddings in the Western Desert, December 1942, illustrating the fact that there were sometimes periods of light relief. © IWM (E 20598)
Pilot Officer Michael A. Scott photographed here wearing his RAF wings. Like many pilots and servicemen during the war, Scott wrote a final letter home, to be delivered if he was killed in action. © IWM (Documents 431)
Reverend Don Siddons, Staff Chaplain at Eighth Army HQ, conducting a communion service in the desert during the Second World War. © IWM (Documents 9143)
Defence of Tobruk: the Royal Artillery utilise their guns to repel the Germans in the desert, 1941. © IWM (E 2887)
In a posed photograph, British infantry are shown rushing an enemy strong-point through the dust and smoke of enemy shell fire at El Alamein. © IWM (E 18513)
El Alamein, 1942. A mine explodes close to a British truck as the infantry move through an enemy minefield to new front lines. © IWM (E 18542)
Support troops of the 3rd British Infantry Division assemble on Sword Beach, 6 June 1944. The soldiers pictured here include engineers and, in the background, medical orderlies preparing to move wounded men off the beach. © IWM (B 5114)
Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke, Winston Churchill, Field Marshal Sir Bernard Montgomery and Lieutenant-General William Simpson walk across a Bailey bridge over the Rhine on 26 March 1945, marking the success of the Allied sweep across Europe. © IWM (EA 56602)
Men of the 1st Battalion, Dorsetshire Regiment, with South Korean soldiers during the hand-over of the ‘Lozenge’ position to the 4th Republic of Korea (ROK) Infantry Division, c.1954. © IWM (CT 1908)
During a lull in the fighting in Korea, British soldiers enjoy a game of football, c.1952. © IWM (BF 10081)
A trooper of the 8th Battalion, King’s Royal Irish Hussars writes a letter home while serving in Korea. © IWM (BF 522)
Lieutenant Robert Gill, photographed with Doreen, his then girlfriend. He wrote letters to her from Korea, detailing his movements. © IWM (Documents 13204)
A Bren gunner pictured here in a concealed ambush position while on patrol during the Malayan Emergency. © IWM (MAL 171)
British troops from 1st Battalion, King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, are shown here on patrol through a Malayan jungle, c.1952. © IWM (BF 10387)
HMS Sheffield on fire after being hit by an Exocet missile fired from an Argentinian aircraft. © IWM (FKD 64)
Heavily laden British troops during the land campaign on the Falklands. Here they are waiting to board a helicopter in 1982. © IWM (FKD 2124)
3rd Battalion, Parachute Regiment, pictured here with the battalion flag in Port Stanley after the Argentine surrender on 14 June 1982. © IWM (FLD 364)
A British Army M110 self-propelled gun in action during the first Gulf War in 1991. © IWM (GLF 1280)
An RAF Tornado F3 in flight over the burning oilwells of the Gulf in the 1990s. © IWM (GLF 762)
From a vantage point at Basra Technical College, a sniper of 1st Battalion, Irish Guards provides covering fire for Royal Engineers as they attempt to extinguish an oil well fire during the battle for Basra City in 2003. © IWM (OP-TELIC 03-010-34-003)
Four British soldiers of 3 Division Headquarters and Signal Regiment conduct a foot patrol on the outskirts of Basra during Operation Telic 2, September 2003.
© IWM (HQMND(SE)-03-053-009)
Then on Friday evening at six o’clock Brig Lucas sent for Palmer, Brown and me, the three A/Qs, and said, ‘the hunt is nearly up chaps and before it all ends I want to thank you for your work and help. I’d like to get decorations for you, but I can’t do that, but what I can do is to order you away.’ I’ll always remember that. The suddenness of it and the ray of hope that it brought. One felt that it was unfair for some to go and not others, but we couldn’t help feeling that a chance was there for us to take and the thought of all it meant was simply wonderful. Anyway he went on to say that it was the General’s order. Certain
people had been selected, mainly specialists and some staff officers, and there was no question of refusal and we were to tell no-one else anything… We were only to take with us what we could carry ourselves, which meant leaving practically everything behind, but that mattered very little in the circumstances. I already had my kit packed, ready for incarceration!…
Leaving Canning without being able to explain one’s orders to those who were staying were very difficult… Poor Janak… He would arrive next morning to clean my buttons and find me flown and of course he would feel that I had hopped it and left them to fend for themselves. Only that morning I had gone round to the troops’ camp near the station to talk to them, as the camp had had a stick of bombs on it that morning and some of them were feeling shaken and wanted to leave the camp and I had told them to stay put and that I would tell them if it was necessary to leave – and what must they think now?…
We assembled at the rendezvous in the Harbour and a party of us were sent on board a motor launch… The last sight of Singapore was unforgettable. For days the sky had been covered in a black pall from the burning oil tanks on the island and that night it was handing low for miles about. All around was the glow of fresh fires, some in the harbour itself, making the scene as light as day, and here and there were the sudden flashes of our guns firing, or enemy shells bursting.
Java was our destination and there was conjecture as to how long our little boat would take over the journey. Our skipper later told us that he intended to run by night only, and to lie hidden by day, and that he thought we should be seven days on the trip. Water and food were limited and we should have to lie down where we could on the ship, so the trip looked like being anything but a pleasure cruise.
We slept somehow that night… In the morning we felt quite cheerful and enjoyed our coffee… Not long afterwards we saw the first planes and realised that we were far from being out of danger yet. We were amongst some islands, but showed no signs of lying up to hide, as the captain had said. Several more formations of planes went over us, but all left us alone. Soon, however, we realised from sprouts of water that our nearest neighbour in the convoy was getting it and after a while we went alongside to take off her casualties.
While alongside another formation came for us and we had the nastiest fifteen minutes I hope to experience. We cast off and went off from the other ship as fast as possible and thereby missed the first packet dropped by yards only… We were all ordered below to the cabin and there we lay on our tummies … listening to stuff coming down and feeling the boat zig-zagging as hard as she could… There [were] no life jackets on board and one hit would have put our cockleshell right under us, but we came out unscathed…
Back in the Middle East, a British attempt to relieve Tobruk in November 1941 proved successful, but the exposed British positions in the Gazala Line proved a tempting target for Rommel and he attacked once more at the end of May 1942. This attack broke the British position, sending them in a headlong retreat towards the Egyptian border; Tobruk fell on 21 June, and the whole British position in the Middle East appeared to be under threat.
Reverend Don Siddons was the Staff Chaplain at Eighth Army HQ during the retreat and this letter home to his wife, Edith, reflects his fears for the future.
From Rev V.D. Siddons C.F.c/aA.C.G. Eighth Army M.E.F. to Mrs V.D. Siddons
No 61. 25/6/42
Dearest,
Things are looking pretty serious here, and no-one knows how things are going to turn out.
It seems quite possible that at some stage or other I might become a prisoner. I hope it won’t happen, and there may come a turn of the tide, or a stabilisation of the position, but we have to face possibilities.
If it does happen I shall do my best to stick it out and come home to you all in the end. If the enemy get Egypt and especially if they get Baku the war might last another 5 years, and how many people would survive 5 years in captivity is [the] question, as the food and sanitations are often poor, especially if the country we are living in is itself starving, and I imagine it is difficult not to get depressed in such conditions. On the other hand I should always have my work to do, whether prisoner or not, and I am not normally subject to depression, and am physically fit though 50…
You might not hear for some time if I became a prisoner but you must try not to become too worried. I am much more likely in this type of warfare to become a prisoner than any other type of casualty.
Whatever happens I know you will do splendidly for the children and will face life bravely. Don’t in those circumstances wish for the end of the war without victory. That would be of no use to us for life would be worthless. Rather ten years of captivity and victory than an immediate return and defeat or an inconclusive result. Better to die a prisoner than that.
You have been wonderfully good to me; much better than I have deserved; and I have been completely happy with you, Darling. I want nothing better, when this job is over, than to finish my days in company with you; you have been the best pal a man could have.
I think the children should have all reasonable chances in regard to education, even if it means drawing on capital a bit. Remember that if we win the war you have ultimately fairly considerable resources. On my death you would get £1300 from my life insurance, or if I survive we get it in 1951. On the death of both my parents I think you should get between £2000 and £3000 but am not sure of the exact figure. You could always borrow from the bank (i.e. overdraw) on the security of either of the above, preferably and more easily the first… Barbara ought to get a good scholarship if she is to go to Cambridge, you ought not to have to pay a large proportion of that expense. Miss Jennings, Bill’s headmistress, and Bill herself would all advise you well if a choice of university is open with various corresponding expenditures*… Education expenditure cannot always be met out of income and should be regarded as an investment…
It is useless to suggest anything for Anthony at present until we see how he is going to develop. An architect would be a pleasant, valuable, and I should think, prosperous career after the war for there will be much rebuilding to do for many years…
Now that is all, my Darling. Things may be all right and all this rigmarole for nothing, but it is as well to be prepared for all eventualities. I trust you absolutely, and love you entirely and always, my Beloved.
Your very own,
Don
While the British were in headlong retreat in the Far East and struggling to survive in the North African desert, the main way they were able to strike back at the Axis powers was through the strategic bombing campaign over occupied Europe and Germany.
Flying Officer Ron Williams flew as the navigator on an Avro Lancaster with Nos. 106, 61, 57 and 617 Squadrons, RAF, from October 1942 onwards.
Officers Mess
RAF Syerston
NOTTS
23/4/43 1.30pm
Dear Mum and Dad,
I have received both your letters now for which thanks. I am very sorry about the gap in mine – I was clear in my mind that I had written sometime over the weekend – until I woke up on Tuesday!…
I’ve got another trip done since I wrote – we took part in the varied attacks on Hitler’s birthday. It was quite a nice trip as we could map read in the bright moonlight once we had crossed the sea. We did slightly different tactics which caused some fun on the way back (which I’ll tell you about later) – but nothing dangerous. Bob has now only 13 more to do, and I hope to do the same – we have got to the stage of counting how many to go now, instead of how many we’ve done…
There is a new stunt on this afternoon, and we’ve all got to be in a running kit at 2pm to do a bit of a x country, so I’d better go and change.
Love to all,
Ron
Officers Mess
RAF Syerston
NOTTS
28/4/43 1.30pm
Dear Mum and Dad,
Here we are … lunch eaten, and time for a short letter before the post goes. Yo
ur letter and the Guardian arrived yesterday tea time, for which thanks. Regarding the ‘number of trips’ query, it is usual, when pilots complete their tour by doing 30 trips, to finish other members of the crew also if they are only two or three short. It is pretty well the rule in the case of navigators anyway, so, being two behind Bob, I hope to finish on 28. With these last two, it now needs only eleven – should be in single figures soon.
Friday afternoon saw us doing a cross country of two or three miles across the drome and down by the Trent. Having a hot bath on return alleviated some of the stiffness next day. Bob and I were changed in time for the bus and a short quiet evening in Notts…
Sunday was again a quiet night. In the afternoon the crew did a bit of clay pigeon shooting – it’s the first I’ve done since ITW – and then Bob and I changed to go down to the WAAF officers’ mess, to which we had been invited for tea. We stayed there until about 8.30 when we all went along to the dance in the NAFFI.
Monday of course there was considerable activity. The ace crews from each squadron were attacking first and I am almost certain we were the very first to bomb. Of course that means we get all the stuff at us as we go in. Some was close and we even got one hole in the mainplane. However, we were also first back! I don’t suppose you’ll see anything about last night’s effort in the papers – very quiet, very short, but it counted as a trip!
Letters from the Front: From the First World War to the Present Day Page 14