Joe and I were on guard when we first got any inkling there was a push about to begin, and I cannot put into writing the excitement there was…
At last dawn approached and we stopped to get breakfast, and it was after breakfast that we were informed of the job that was before us and, I must admit that the officer who spoke to us spared us no details in telling us what to expect and what was expected of us, and I can say that by then, and not without reason [we were] beginning to shake a little in our shoes, it was here that we were told of the Barrage the RA were going to put down and this news I am sure helped us through the next few hours.
Now comes the part of my letter that has kept me so long from writing to you.
We were now dressed ready to move to a forward position and from where we were to have what was to prove our last meal together, actually it was Bully stew with Biscuits with jam, which we ate sitting together behind a mound of earth at about four o’clock in the afternoon, then after a short rest we got dressed again and were once more on the move, we seemed to have been marching miles in thick deep sand and it is a march I shall never forget for Joe and I both shared a Bren Gun between each of us carrying it for about a mile and a half at a time and with the load we were carrying it sure was hard going.
Well at last we halted and were formed ready for the big push which we knew would be the turning point of the war, we layed [sic] there for quite a while and after the sweat of the march we were beginning to shiver… We only had KD on, so we cuddled up together to keep warm, and you can believe me Sardines had nothing on us.
It was here we had an issue of rum and nothing was ever more welcome, in fact we felt ten times better for it.
As we were lying there the order came to take up positions and everybody was keyed up, and it was a surprise when we were told to fix bayonets.
We moved up a few yards and then the next thing we heard was a crescendo of guns which shook us at first, we were now off and though we had to keep apart Joe and I kept in touch with one another till we were held down by machine gun fire.
Things looked pretty grim here and it was only the audacity of an NCO that got us out of it and which cost him an arm, by this time Joe and I had got our gun going again and we began to advance with the section, the next thing I knew was a tremendous crash behind us and as I fell forward I caught a glimpse of Joe going down, picking myself up I discovered that except for a few scratches I was OK. I then walked over to Joe and found much to my regret that there was nothing I could do for him and looking around I found what had been the cause of it all, one of the Jerry Panzers had feigned dead and was just going to move off. I then picked up the gun and though I must admit I was pretty mad by this time I let him have a full magazine and I am pretty certain he never lived to tell the tale.
After we had finished with our little part in the great scheme Montgomery had so successfully planned we came back to a few miles behind the front and my platoon officer informed me after we had been there a few days that he has been back and seen where our boys had been buried but though he tried, he was unable to let us go to see their graves, but I am sure they had a decent burial.
I am afraid this is all I can tell you at present but I will try to write you some more later on.
I will now close hoping you will understand and forgive me for not writing sooner.
I remain yours
Truly,
J.E. Drew
Trooper John Bassam, who served like John Jarmain in the 51st (Highland) Division, was wounded in the battle and wrote home to his family about his experiences.
10602041
Tpr F. Bassam
(A) Squadron
51st Recce Rgmt
Recce Corps
M.E.F.
2-11-42
Dear Father,
At last after such a long time I have found time to write a few lines to let you know that I am still OK. Well you will I suppose have been following the ME news with a lot of interest wondering if I happened to be in the battle or not, well our Squadron were right in [it] at the start [and] before we had time to realise what was on we were fighting it. Is just hell out here although all is going to scale. I am resting at present and am going to base tomorrow. I have heard nothing of the other Whitby boys but say nothing to their people… I am deaf in my right ear but thank the Lord the only thing like a wound was on my seat, just a scratch so don’t worry. The MO says my hearing will come back, at any rate my left ear is OK now. I was blown up time after time and lost my speech for a while. Quite a lot of our boys were lost but most of us live to fight another day. We hope to make this the end out here, the chances are good, we hope to be home by Spring. Well I must close and don’t worry more letters for you when I get time. Cheeryo, keep smiling.
Your son,
John
Flight Lieutenant Chadwick served with the Desert Air Force during the Tunisian campaign, and describes his reactions to the victory at El Alamein after all the hard fighting that had taken place in the desert over the previous two years, as well as the aftermath on the battlefield.
F/LT E. Chadwick
107968
HQ, RAF, ME
211 Group
24th May, 1943
My dear,
From time to time in my letters I have said I would write my experiences during the recent campaign from Alamein to Tripoli or to what we later found out was our final destination – Tunis. Actually in these early days we had Tripoli the target as this [was the] prize, and had been before the eyes of the Eighth Army, from the early days when the Desert Rats first whipped the Wops. Although my experiences date earlier than Alamein I will leave them until later as the grim days of the retreat had been put behind us and we had stopped the enemy. We were all ready now to hit back and hit him good and hard, it had taken us four months to do this – months and weeks of dreary life in the desert with the usual bombings by night and occasionally when Jerry got perky a party or two during the day. But for now it was the 23rd of October, the day we had all been waiting for. The day had been almost normal, nothing extraordinary had happened and the dusk came on with the sun dropping into a dark cloud that spread over the western horizon making a blood red flame that died away to a cold dark blue as the moon rose in the east to shed its white light on the scene which we were all expecting to begin. I remember as I saw the night draw on thinking what thoughts are in the minds of the men in the desert at this time. As zero hour approached we all listened to hear the barrage and dead on time it began and rumbled and crashed to wake up the silence of the limitless darkness of the desert… The following day the RAF took a hand and bombed and strafed with good heart all doing our best to help to give Jerry a licking just to change his continual run of success. At night the artillery opened up again pounding a way for the infantry to lever out the Hun who was still soft from the day’s bombing. During the night rain fell and we all wondered if our efforts would be diminished by its effect … but I think the Army were too full of fight to stop for the rain…
In our unit there were a matter of 300 men with about 30 officers and the whole lot could move off at about one hour’s notice and travel any distance and set up in the same time. This mobility was a splendid effort by both the organisers and the men who had the carrying out of the move… Our unit was, furthermore, divided into two parties, so that one party could move forward, become operational and then the rear party could come up to us or leapfrog over us and thereby be in a position to continually control the planes and hammer the enemy without let up… During these days and nights the Army had been pounding and nibbling at the enemy’s positions and we were anxious to hear that his line had been broken, so we could start away after him. This happened on the 3rd November, we were giving all we could from the air and the line was breaking slowly but surely. The advance party were on two hours’ notice to move and we were all ready to go. It was not until the 5th November that we moved… Everyone was light hearted and happy to be doing his bit in the show
that was to repay us for the ignominy of the recent retreat… As we went along we gradually came upon the signs of war, guns and troops moving back up, and it was here I saw the body of some high officer being brought back from the front. Modern war deals hardly with high and low, front line troops and headquarters staff are all subject to instant attack… As we passed out of the defences we came upon the war in all its horror. Apparently the Germans and Italians had made a desperate attempt to close the gap here but had been wiped out by our guns and stiffies were lying about all alongside the road and deep in the desert. To us of the RAF who had been accustomed to death in less numerical severity the widespread ghastly scene was appalling and shook us somewhat. War is like that, one gets callous and indifferent by degrees…
The following morning we were roused at dawn and moved off hoping to get to our destination [where] we could have a meal in comfort. On along the road we went until we came across tanks and vehicles which were still burning, at one point the road was blocked by an Italian vehicle which had been newly shot up as the crew were still lying around on the road. This was after we had been travelling an hour and seemed to me to be rather near, in fact too near, the battle … however we continued until a Bren gun carrier came rushing over the desert to head us off … and I never saw vans, lorries, wagons and trailers turn around quicker ignoring the danger of mines alongside the road and head back like ‘the clappers of hell’…
Well, that is my story of the desert which I hope you enjoyed. It was tough in parts but one met some grand fellows during the war. Some did not complete the show & some will never see their homes again but the best of the people I have known in the service have been in the desert.
Despite the British success at El Alamein, there was still a great deal of hard fighting left to do in North Africa as the Axis troops slowly retreated across Libya and Tunisia, fighting rearguard actions all the way. At the same time a joint Anglo-American expeditionary force under the command of General Eisenhower landed in Vichy French Morocco and Algeria on 8 November 1942, in an action known as Operation Torch.
By 7 May 1943 the Allies had entered Tunis, and eight days later the Axis forces in North Africa surrendered, with some 230,000 men going into captivity. David Philips served as an officer with the 7th Battalion, Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry, and wrote to his mother describing one of the victory celebrations following the successful conclusion to the campaign.
7th Oxf & Bucks Lt. Infty
M.E.F.
2.6.43
Dear Mummy,
Many thanks for several letters recently received; I have answered some of them in a longer letter which may take some time to reach you. As you can see, the faithful typewriter still flourishes – although under fire it was hot touched – and although a few small springs are broken and one or two screws missing it still works almost as well as ever.
Today we had a big parade in the local town for the official celebration of the King’s birthday. We sent a contingent of about 80 from the Regiment, with 3 officers, of whom I was privileged to be one…
Then while the salute of twenty-one guns was fired, I thought how strange it was to be standing there as conquerors, surrounded by the symbols of Roman might, and how hollow now seemed Mussolini’s boast of eight million bayonets to defend his Empire. I could not but feel awed by the circumstance, and not a little thankful for the opportunity of participating in the exposure of that hollow boast: how truly has Nemesis followed hubris once more! But perhaps the strangest part of all was the reception accorded to us by the populace. They clapped. At first I was overcome by a sense of the ridiculous, and could scarcely control my laughter: do you remember how Peter Fleming comments on the strange impressions created by seeing the citizens of a South American town clap their soldiery? In the same way I felt there was something ludicrous in this applause: as if they thought our ability to march, and present arms, were something wonderful. But afterwards I was the more struck by realising that applause from a conquered populace for their conquerors was surely an odd phenomenon, and even now we ask ourselves why it was accorded: was it just excitement at the pageantry? Perhaps; or was it fear of reprisals if they remained silent? Hardly likely: or are we genuinely welcomed? I do not know the answer.
The march past which followed was impressive – I am told – and successful, and many of my men were as thrilled by it as I was; and a very important general has given the Regiment high praise for its prowess and smartness…
Love to all from
David
However, the war in the Mediterranean was far from over and on the night of 9/10 July 1943 the Allies launched Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily, and then from 3 September British and Canadian forces began landing on the Italian mainland itself, with the Americans following on the 9th. Despite the initial success of the landings, and the Italian surrender, the Allies became bogged down in front of the German defensive lines that stretched across the Italian peninsula, the most impressive of which was the Gustav Line that contained the town of Cassino as its key position. This town, dominated by the famous Benedictine monastery above it, was the scene of bitter fighting from January 1944 onwards, as the Allies sought to break the stalemate and take the city of Rome with a frontal assault on the Gustav Line and an amphibious landing behind the German front line at Anzio. After months of hard fighting at both Cassino and Anzio, the British Eighth and American Fifth armies finally broke through the German positions and beyond the bridgehead. The US Fifth Army pushed on to Rome, which was captured on 4 June 1944, instead of pursuing the retreating German forces. There was to be plenty more hard-fighting in Italy, but the first stage of the campaign was at an end.
Following the Allied invasion of Italy in September 1943, the Italians signed an armistice with the Allies which was announced on 8 September. German forces rapidly disarmed and took over the positions occupied by their erstwhile allies, but the armistice also gave opportunities to escape to the many Allied prisoners of war who had been captured in North Africa and were now held in camps across Italy.
Gordon Clover served with the 149th Field Regiment, Royal Artillery, until his capture at Tobruk. His letter describes his arduous journey to freedom.
28 Sept 1944
My dear Bill,
I have been thinking of you, of all three of you, and wondering how you are. I’m going to try and give you in this letter a short account of how I got back after the armistice with Italy, as I expect you want to hear a few details. There are plenty of others who had a more exciting time but what happened to me was quite exciting enough for your ears. I got clear of the camp after the armistice without incident. The Huns came to take us once but we had wind of their approach and got clear with a few minutes to spare and they hadn’t enough men to scout the whole countryside for us. That was in northern Italy within a week’s walking of the Swiss [portion], which I was much tempted to make for. However, I set out to walk south with another officer. We walked and walked and then some, always in the mountains … across county roughly south west. We swapped uniforms with some filthy ragged civilian clothes, begged food as we went from the peasants and lived mostly on bread and [grapes]. After about six weeks we must have covered about 500 miles and with a zig-zag, cross country course…
On the whole the peasants were friendly and helpful though fearful (penalty for helping ex-POWs was death). I could speak the language fairly well but of course with my accent and appearance could not very well pass for an [Italian]! Then twenty miles from the line, we got caught again by the Huns. They were getting more and more numerous as we got close to the line and it was hard to dodge them and the line being stationary made it harder to get through. We spent some very unpleasant days staying in a dungeon well south of Rome and of course got covered with lice. Then we were put on a train for Germany, locked in cattle trucks with a bucket and a bale of straw. We took a poor view of this and a poor view still when the RAF came and bombed the train. However, there was a spot
of confusion and … I managed to nip off and hide in an air raid shelter with a lot of civilians. Then I got into the mountains again alone and spent a couple of [nights] on a pile of bracken in an old shack high up in the mountains hoping for the line to move a bit. With the winter it was getting terribly cold so I continued … to Rome. There I wandered from refuge to refuge till I found a permanent cellar where I hid for few months like a troglodyte until the Allies arrived in Rome. That time in Rome was the worst of all. I had a bed but food was scarce and I had to stay hidden almost the whole time… However it all ended well and here I am, still on leave, after two months!…
We’ll have plenty to talk about when we meet… Love to R. Look after yourself, Bill, and come back home as soon as you can! It’s nearly over! Another letter soon to follow.
All the best, yours ever,
Gordon
In the Far East, the British had been forced out of the majority of their colonial possessions by the Japanese onslaught. Hong Kong, Malaya, Singapore and Burma had all fallen, and only India was left, but was under threat of Japanese invasion.
The British sought to rebuild their forces in order to wrest back their colonies from the Japanese occupier, which resulted in the formation of the famous Fourteenth Army in October 1943.
Freddie Ranken was a sergeant in the Royal Army Pay Corps based at Meerut in India, and wrote back to his wife’s family in England full of anxiety about the situation at home.
British Army Pay Office (RA Sgts Mess)
Meerut, Indian Command
26th August 1944
Dear Willie,
This is a letter that has been about to be written on a number of occasions but although I received yours on 23 July it is only now I am sitting down to write this as I have a day off on medical grounds. I was off duty Wed and Thurs as well. I have worried badly over the past couple of weeks since hearing of poor old Edie’s new trouble, being bombed out and have not had any details yet to ease my anxiety…
Letters from the Front: From the First World War to the Present Day Page 16