This shelling from the Huns is becoming rather uncomfortable. Their shells are landing all over the place. It appears that they have got a gun in position near the harbour and of great calibre. I heard that an unexploded shell had been found as large as 5.9 inches. We have replied with Tilly, but without much effect.
I had dinner at HQ and sat next to the colonel and opposite Major Dockrell, who will be in charge when we all leave. The colonel is tremendously pleased that Wavell has just got the push and also that Oliver Lyttelton is coming out here with full Cabinet powers to preside over army, navy and air force. The lack of co-operation has been bad and I think this might have had some bearing on our failures just lately. Daddy will be very pleased when he hears about Oliver Lyttelton’s new job. He is a capable man and I hope the new scheme, and Lyttelton himself, will prove a success.
We had two or three raids during the day, mostly high-level stuff.
When I got back a new sentry was on duty, one of the new relief. He, of course, didn’t know me when he challenged me and as I had no identification card on me he insisted that I should have to be identified before he would let me go on!
Wavell was much admired and had handled the pressures of such a giant command with unfailing calmness, yet Churchill had never really warmed to him and had been looking to move him on for some time. The failure of BATTLEAXE had given him the excuse he needed, so he had been sacked on 21 June and immediately sent to be C-in-C India. His replacement, General Claude Auchinleck, known to all as ‘The Auk’, had arrived to take over on 1 July.
Friday, 4 July
We had rather a heavy dive-bombing attack about 6 o’clock. Some of the planes attacked our point while we were teaching the new gunners on the 4-inch guns. Two bombs fell about 20 yards from our battery office and mess room.
The new gunners were very scared and our men in the gun pits set a very good example by calmly shooting at the planes with their rifles. Some of the planes came down within 20 feet of the water to avoid Beaufort and small-arms fire. The Beauforts on the north point had some wonderful targets but unfortunately the dust and muck caused by the bombs obscured their view. I think we might have got two down but that has yet to be confirmed.
Incidentally, the new so-called gunners don’t know the first thing about the 4-inch guns, in spite of having a three-month course. It’s quite funny that we have to teach the gunners.
Saturday, 5 July
It’s now about 9.30 in the evening and I am writing this in the BOP. I am on duty again tonight. Stephen and Scottie have just been up to say goodbye. They leave by the destroyers that are coming in tonight, with the colonel, Donny, Derrick Warwick and about 60 men. We expect a good many more of our reliefs to arrive by the destroyers, which are due in about 11.30. They are all terribly excited about going. The prospect of a week’s leave after six months in Tobruk, without seeing a civilian, let alone a woman, is enough to excite anyone.
I shall be the last to leave. The colonel came down this afternoon and said he wanted me to stay and bring the last of the men away. Lawrence goes tomorrow, and Mike Laycock will follow him, and I shall bring up the rear. I was the first here and will be the last to leave. It really is rather like the last week at school, but I won’t think about it until I step ashore at Mersa or Alexandria.
During the morning I went up to RHQ, then on to Navy House where they gave us a drink. I had a most interesting talk with a naval officer who has just joined the staff there, having arrived from Crete. He actually lived for a time with Tony Holden, Mike Parish and Jon Abel-Smith, our officers from Y Battery whom we sent to Crete. It’s very sad to think that when we all meet again at Allenby Barracks, Jerusalem, all the officers of B and Y Batteries will be missing, and practically all the men too. Little did we realize this would happen when they went to Cyprus and on to Crete – and Sydney Morse, Mike Riviere and Myles Hildyard took B Battery to Crete, and we came to Tobruk. I only hope that our people have a safe journey back to Alex. Unfortunately the moon is almost full. We had some planes over and they started that damned shelling in the harbour, just after the second destroyer crossed the boom. As they passed through the boom I made our trumpeter blow the cavalry call for ‘Trot’, followed by ‘Canter’, ‘Gallop’ and, finally, ‘Good Night’. I feel certain that they heard it as the wind was blowing in the right direction.
Sunday, 6 July
Today I think has been the worst we have had since we have been here – continual high-level and dive-bombing, also shelling from the other side. They are using a pretty big gun. We can see the flash and worked out that it’s about 20,000 yards away.
During the afternoon we had some unpleasant shelling. One landed over at X Battery, knocking out their home-made distillery and injuring two of our men, Corporal Smith and Trooper Smith, and one lance bombardier from our reliefs. He got it the worst.
Mike and I went to see them in hospital in the town. We had some difficulty in finding them at first, and had to walk through the serious wounded ward, which was quite one of the most depressing sights that I have ever seen, and only brought home too clearly the horrors of war, and the utter futility.
Monday, 7 July
Spent most of the day showing the two new officers around the place. Major Howell is really rather gloomy and dismal. He never speaks a word and the young lieutenant who came up with him tells me that he never does, unless he is well oiled either with gin or whisky. What a hope he has got here! What is more, he has not changed his shirt since he arrived.
Tuesday, 8 July
I came down to breakfast after spending the night on duty in the BOP and Mike greeted me with the news that all the remainder of our relief had arrived last night in the destroyers. I spent the most hectic day handing over all guns, stores, ammunition, etc. I had to do A, Z, and X Batteries. It is now about 10 o’clock in the evening.
Mike Laycock has just gone off to the docks as he and Lawrence leave tonight by the destroyers, with all our remaining men except about 30 across on the south side. So that only leaves the doc at HQ (thank God for him), my batman, Smith, his medical orderly and the men on the south side.
It’s full moon tonight, bombs have been dropped twice and also the harbour has been shelled. Mike does not like the idea of the journey at all. It really is as bright as day outside. Once they are out of the harbour they will be all right. I shall be damned glad to get out of this place. Almost six months of constant bombing and shelling. With any luck I should be away by Thursday evening.
Wednesday, 9 July
Today I was busy handing over to our reliefs all the posts on the south side of the harbour. It was not made easier by the lack of co-operation between the two batteries and the stubbornness of Howell, who would not detail the correct number from his battery. There appears to be no discipline and the NCOs have no control over their men. I had to do most of the work myself. Eventually we got off but not until 3.30 in the afternoon. I had very rarely visited the south side as all the posts were manned by Michael’s men, so we experienced the greatest difficulty in finding the way, especially to the outlying posts. The truck broke down at one point, we had a series of bombing attacks on the south side and saw a dive-bombing attack on our position on the other side of the harbour. It was quite fun to watch it from a distance. We eventually got back at midnight to find that no food had been left for us, so we made ourselves some tea and ate some bread and marmalade.
Thursday, 10 July
Today was my last day in Tobruk and I took great care not to get damaged in any way in air raids. I made up my mind not to get killed on my last day and in this I was successful! I am immensely pleased to leave the place, especially as all the others from the Regiment have gone and I shall be the last to leave with 30 men.
Two destroyers come in every other evening, stay just long enough to unload and then dash out again. That is the only way that they can supply Tobruk now. Shipping during the day is quite out of the question, in the harbour or off the Sollum coast. The destroyers must be
out of the danger area before daybreak as they don’t get a fighter escort until then.
In the morning I made arrangements for Geoffrey Brooks, myself and 34 men to be down on the docks by 11 o’clock to catch the destroyers.
I wasn’t sorry to say goodbye to our reliefs. What a bum lot they appear to be. I have discovered that Howell has five bottles of whisky hidden in his room. It’s been bad enough in Tobruk with a grand lot of companions: I simply can’t imagine what it will be like with these chaps.
On my way to the docks I called in at Navy House to bid them farewell. What a grand crowd they are and what a hectic time they have had.
The destroyer, Defender, and the Australian Vendetta arrived in harbour about 11 o’clock, hastily unloaded and we then embarked. It didn’t take us long to get out of the harbour and we all said a very happy goodbye to Tobruk. Unfortunately, it was a bright moonlit night and we were shelled as we left, but we made very good speed and were damned glad to see the last of the place.
Stanley’s relief at leaving Tobruk is all too evident, but with his usual understatement, his diaries do rather skate over just how relentlessly grim it was for those besieged there. Even those in the trenches in the First World War were regularly rotated out of the line, but those at Tobruk had to withstand the aerial and artillery bombardments without any respite. The conditions were appalling: during the early months, freezing cold at night and uncomfortably warm by day, and by the summer, blisteringly hot during daylight hours and with little water, almost no sanitation, millions upon millions of flies, and virtually no creature comforts. The smell and sight of death and decay were unavoidable, and there was not a man there who did not find the experience horrendously grim, to put it mildly. The stoicism of Stanley and his fellows was, frankly, quite astonishing.
7
Mechanized at Last
A new American-built Sherman surges across the desert.
Friday, 11 July 1941
WE HAD QUITE a few troops on board who had left Tobruk with us, as well as our own unit. I went down into the wardroom and it wasn’t long before I was fast asleep in a chair. I was woken up at dawn by an alarm bell ringing and guns firing on deck. On reaching the deck I found that a damned high-level bomber had dropped a stick across us and likewise the same on the other destroyer. Unfortunately one had scored a very near miss and broke the Defender’s back. We went alongside and took all personnel off, except a skeleton navy crew. We then spent about three hours trying to tow the crippled destroyer back to Alexandria, first with a wire rope, then a hawser and finally with the anchor chain, but to no avail. Both ropes broke and we failed with the anchor chain. It was rather an uncomfortable time as we were not far off the Sollum coast and the Hun air bases. However, all was well, and it was not long before we found our fighter escort, which was a most encouraging sight. All the crew was taken off the Defender and we had to sink her. We fired a torpedo, which was a remarkable sight and caused a terrific explosion, but that didn’t sink her and we had to sink her by shelling. It took at least 12 shells. When eventually she finally disappeared under the water both crews took off their hats and cheered her as she went down. And so we proceeded to Alexandria. We had at least 1000 troops on board so we were very crowded as well as the two naval crews.
Soon two other of our destroyers appeared, which had been sent out from Alexandria to escort us back. We eventually arrived at about 7 o’clock in the evening, where we were met by RASC transport and taken to Amariya staging camp, all very hungry and weary. We didn’t actually get to the camp until midnight. But the men were given a meal. Geoffrey Brooks and I had a whisky and soda and some bacon and eggs, the first drink and a meal of that kind for many a day. It didn’t take us long to get to bed and sleep the sleep of the very weary and relieved.
Sunday, 13–Saturday, 19 July
A week’s leave in Cairo after six months in Tobruk is certainly a grand change. I stayed at Shepheard’s Hotel, ate too much, and spent far too much money. I didn’t really enjoy myself: it was far too hot, quite unbearable at times, and there were far too many army about. On the other hand, I saw a great many friends. I wanted to spend my leave with Stephen but he was sent off on a course. Mike Laycock was there some of the time with me but had stomach trouble all the while. He left for Palestine before me.
I spent most of my time shopping. I sent a present out to my godchild in Canada. I also bought a new silk suit, which is quite smart. It cost me £6. I spent quite a good deal of time at the Gezira Club, and played some tennis.
On my last Saturday I ran into the colonel, Flash Kellett, who had flown down from Palestine to Cairo for a conference about our future role. He told me that the Regiment, having re-formed at Jerusalem (Allenby Barracks), would stay there for about five weeks and do all the training possible. Another armoured division was going to be formed and we were going to be brigaded with the Greys and the Staffordshire Yeomanry.
We ourselves, the Notts Yeomanry, were going to be equipped with American tanks, the first of which might arrive in about six weeks’ time. The colonel told me all this when I met him on the steps of the Continental. He is most thrilled at the idea of becoming a tank regiment.
As we are so short of officers he asked me to go back immediately to Allenby Barracks to look after A Squadron.
Sunday, 20–Sunday, 27 July
I left Egypt for Palestine with Patrick Ness from the Queens Bays. He was with Layforce (Commandos) when they were disbanded. Flash got him into this regiment. He has had a certain amount of experience with tanks. I find him rather a bore, but no doubt I may be wrong.
The Regiment has now re-formed at Allenby Barracks, Jerusalem, where I arrived on Sunday afternoon. At this time of year the climate here is simply lovely, and a tremendous contrast to Cairo, which is quite unbearably hot. The barracks are most comfortable and I have got a very decent room, and I am quite looking forward to some peacetime soldiering again for a time. When I arrived the colonel told me that I was to have command of A Squadron until Stephen returned from his course. The squadron is made up from nearly all the old A Battery and personnel from X Battery.
For the present I find that Mike Laycock has command of B Squadron, Henry Trotter C Squadron, and Stephen A Squadron. I understand that Henry Trotter will be boarded home on account of his bad leg.
I had a long talk with the colonel about Peter Laycock. He was most dissatisfied with his efforts at Benghazi and Tobruk. The bombing and raids completely broke his nerve and in this case he does not think that he is a fit person to lead a squadron of tanks into battle. When the colonel makes up his mind about an officer or man, he acts. So, unknown to Peter, he applied for a staff job for him and it has just come through that he will report to Oliver Lyttelton as military political secretary, which I understand is nothing but a glorified ADC’s job. Michael, his brother, is absolutely furious and terribly upset. The whole thing has been most sudden. However, I think on the whole that the colonel adopted the correct policy. His one aim is to produce a first-class regiment so that we can win the war, and to achieve this he has no scruples. Mike Gold is also most upset about this as he and Peter were terrific friends. But there is no doubt that Peter’s morale at Tobruk was at a very low ebb.
I had a long talk with the colonel about the whole position and he was most frank with me and actually told me that he would prefer to give Peter a staff job than let him have a squadron. He has now gone, and went at very short notice.
Monday, 21– Sunday, 27 July
I have been a week at Allenby Barracks now, which is a most comfortable existence, but plenty of work. The Regiment is now to be trained as a tank regiment, equipped with American cruiser tanks, which are now arriving from America with satisfactory regularity. I am acting squadron leader of A Squadron with Bill McGowan as my second-in-command and Jack Whitney and Stuart Thompson as subalterns.
Bill has just joined us. He left the Scottish Horse for the Commandos, but Layforce has now been disbanded. It’s rather s
trange that we should now be in the same regiment. He is a grand person. I understand that we shall be here for almost six weeks.
Monday, 28 July
We had a full day’s work. Stuart Thompson is now back with the Regiment so we have our full quota of officers. No, I am wrong – we should have six.
I had a game of cricket in the afternoon. We played C Squadron. We play on the parade ground. Of course, the ball only lasts one game.
I had a long talk with the colonel about future officers. I told him that as Sergeant Kettner from my squadron is due for a commission I considered it a good thing to have him back here. We know him and like him, and realize his great capabilities, and he would fit in well in the mess. We are short of officers and we might so easily get some absolute dud. He had considered the possibility before, and liked the idea. We then discussed the whole question of officers from the ranks and even at the present time we have a good few, i.e., Jim Lovett, Scottie and Jack Whiting. To my mind, the colonel has got the right idea, he always looks ahead. His great aim is to win the war, and to do that efficiently is essential, both with officers and men, and no matter how unpleasant it may be, you must be ruthless in order to safeguard the future, not the present or the past; while he is endeavouring to maintain the cavalry-officer spirit, he does not wish our mess to get the atmosphere of the sergeants’ mess, which might result by having a majority of commissioned NCOs. On the other hand, in war an efficient ‘Scottie’ commissioned from the Greys is essentially preferable to a charming and pleasant but thoroughly inadequate Peter. We can only win this war by training our regiments and armies more efficiently than the Hun, who has had such a start on us. Flash Kellett, our colonel, is well on the way to do that.
An Englishman at War Page 20