"You have all done well this week. Only four of our number has had to be returned to their units. Believe me that is a lower number than in many other troops. Next week we will be joined by Sergeant Geraghty, Corporal Horn and Corporal Lowe." He pointed to the three men. "They are Physical Training and hand to hand combat instructors. They will show you how to fight and how to kill with a knife." The three of them did not even nod an acknowledgement. They just stared ahead. "The last week we will be moving from here to Anglesey where we will be training with the Royal Navy and learn about boats." He grinned, pointedly at me, "I know that at least one of you has had experience of sailing and quite recently too!"
The rest of my squad knew about my exploits and I was patted on the back. It was ominous that Sergeant Geraghty's eyes narrowed as he stared at me. I had attracted his attention and that was not good.
I arrived early on the Monday. I felt that I had some skills in this area. Nev had not only taught me about booby traps, when we had been in the cottage he had told me how to kill with a knife. He had been quite clear about hand to hand combat; "You do anything to win! Forget fair play. If you can rip his balls off then do it! Kick, bite and gouge. It is dog eat dog so make sure you are the biggest dog! Just do the unexpected. You will win every time. "
The words still rang in my head.
We gathered on the rugby field and sat in a circle. The officers were with us. They were not exempt either. We were all in our battle dress. We were wearing our boots rather than our rubber soled shoes for the captain wanted us to learn how to fight fully equipped.
Sergeant Geraghty stood with his two corporals behind him. He had muscle upon muscle. He obviously used weights. He had his hands on his hips. "Now you all want to be the best soldiers you can be. Our job is to do that. We have trained the Guards and we have trained the best. You will either become competent or you will be hurt! We will not go easy on you because Fritz certainly won't." He glared around our ranks. "Some of you think because you have a bit of fruit salad on your chest you know what it's all about! You don’t'"
Our squad was seated together and collectively we bridled. He was having a go at Daddy who was the only one of us with a medal ribbon.. His eyes fixed on Sean, "You got something to say, Sonny Jim?"
"I just think it is wrong to have a go at someone because he was brave and won a medal that's all."
"Ah a Jock! I never yet knew a Jock who didn't think he was hard as nails and could piss whisky. I was looking for a volunteer and you'll do. Come here."
Sean got up and stood before the sergeant. He proffered a knife to Sean. "Here, Rob Roy, take this and gut me eh?"
Sean took the knife. From the way he held it I could see he knew how to handle a knife. "I might hurt you, Sergeant."
Sergeant Geraghty laughed, "I don't think so. Come on you Scottish Pansy! Use the knife!"
Sean widened his stance and then lunged. The sergeant grabbed the outstretched arm and in one swift movement threw Sean into the air. He crashed to the ground. At that moment it was a good demonstration of the skill of unarmed combat however the sergeant then brought back his boot and kicked Sean hard between the legs.
Captain Foster was on his feet in an instant, "There is no need for that, Sergeant."
"With respect Captain, you are here to learn just like your men and I say it is necessary. A Kraut will not hesitate to do what I did and more."
Sean crawled back to his place. I could see he was in agony. I knew that dad had told me to keep my head down but Sean was one of our squad. I could not sit idly by but I knew a direct confrontation would only result in the sergeant winning. I knew I looked young and so I played the schoolboy. I held up my hand like a child in class.
The sergeant smirked, "Yes Sonny Jim? Do you need the toilet?" His two henchmen grinned.
"No Sergeant I just wondered, you are obviously so experienced where did you get that experience?" His eyes narrowed. "I mean where did you serve to kill Germans? Was it Norway? Were you in the BEF? I am certain we would all like to hear some of your stories. It would be illuminating and firsthand knowledge is always important isn't it, sergeant?"
He began to colour. I had guessed correctly. He had never been in combat. He regained his composure. "It looks like we have another volunteer." He turned, "Corporal Lowe, give the schoolboy your knife and we will see how he does."
"I think I saw what to do before, Sergeant. Why not let Corporal Lowe have the knife, I watched you in the last demonstration and I would like to try that too."
I saw the look of joy on their faces. "Your funeral son but we have a good doctor here. Off you go Corporal."
I was taking a chance but I was counting on over confidence. Corporal Lowe held his knife behind him and then feinted with it. I pretended to be afraid and acted hesitantly. They were expecting me to go for the knife. Corporal Lowe was counting on that fact and when I did he would hurt me. I gave him his chance. I reached out with my left hand to grab his right wrist and he pulled his hand back as he prepared to stab towards me. I quickly pulled back and then spun on my left leg and brought my right fist into his ribs. He was not expecting that and he winced. I put my left leg in front of him and grabbed his hair to pull down his head down on to my left knee. There was a satisfying crack as his nose hit it. As he slumped to the ground I fell on his back and took the knife from his right hand. I looked up at the Sergeant, "You are a first rate teacher, Sergeant." I threw the knife so that it landed between his legs as we used to do at school when we played the game called 'splits'.
I went back to my place and the other lads patted me on the back. I knew I had made three enemies but honour had demanded it.
The Sergeant glowered but he would save his revenge for another time. "Well done. There you are. That is how you do it. Now I will show you, with Corporal Horn here how to use an opponent's body weight against him." They showed us many moves. Most I already knew as I had done some work with experts who had been stationed with my dad. I had been young and they had made it fun. But it was a good refresher course. After they had demonstrated we were divided up into pairs. I went with Sean.
"Are you all right, Sean?"
"I'll survive but I'll have that big bastard."
"That is what he wants forget it. I'll come at you."
We spent an hour practising all that we had seen. The Sergeant and his corporals went around advising and coaching. They assiduously avoided the two of us. When they seemed satisfied they gathered us together again. This time Captain Foster stood.
"One of the skills you will need will be to disable sentries silently. That requires stealth. The first thing you need to do is to stalk them. Today you are wearing your boots; you have all been issued rubber soled shoes. That will help us. There are two main methods we will use; a knife and disabling them with your hands. We will come to the knife later; Sergeant, demonstrate the first of the hand methods."
Corporal Horn stood as though a sentry and the Sergeant crept up behind him. He spoke as he performed the actions. "Lower your body to help you to spring. When you are three or four feet from him spring forward and do two things at the same time. With the fingers and thumb of your left hand fully extended, strike him across the throat with the inner edge of your left forearm. At the same time punch him with your right hand in the small of his back. Then you clamp your right arm across his nose and mouth and drag him backwards. It should be easy because he will be unconscious if you have done it right. Now you try."
It wasn't as easy as they had made out because in some cases there was a disparity in height. We managed and then we were shown the second method, the Japanese strangle hold. This one proved to be an easier one for the smaller men as they could use it to pull back their taller opponent.
Finally we were shown how to use our knives. The Sergeant demonstrated the best places to kill an enemy. Although we continued until lunch time in the back of my mind was the thought that you none of us would really know if we could carry out the actions we had p
ractised and actually kill an enemy until we were in the field. I realised that hesitation a Commando could be disastrous.
As lunch time approached the Sergeant said, "Any questions?" He pointedly looked at me.
"Just one Sergeant." It was Lieutenant Reed who asked the question.
"Yes Lieutenant?"
"I have heard of a way of using your hands to strike an enemy's ears."
The Sergeant nodded, "You are right, sir. But this only works if your opponent isn't wearing a helmet. I'll demonstrate." He nodded to Corporal Lowe who came forward. "You cup your hands and strike your enemy over both ears at the same time. If you do it hard enough you can burst an ear drum or give him a mild concussion. Either way he is disabled."
We heard the call for lunch. Sergeant Johnson said, "Dismiss!" We ran to the mess hall.
Chapter 15
Our squad sat together. They were all concerned about Sean who insisted he was fine. Daddy Grant smiled at me, "Thanks for the defence, Tom, but I have met the Sergeant's type before. All mouth and trousers as my old sergeant would have said. They are good at the theory but never have to put it into practice. It is much harder to kill a man close up."
I nodded, "Too right."
"You have done that already?"
"On the retreat to Boulogne. I had no time to think but it was messy."
That sobering thought silenced us.
The afternoon was spent with our new guns. We were shown how to strip them and reassemble them. We practised loading the magazines and all of this before we fired them. "You need to be able to do this in the dark so practise on your off duty moments as much as you can. Most of our work will be at night and guns can jam."
We were then taken to the range. We used the twenty round box magazine. "Now the last thing you want to do is to hold your finger on the trigger and blaze away. You will empty your magazine and then Jerry will have you for breakfast while you are reloading. Use it like a rifle. Two or three shots each time. It takes practice but that is why you are here."
The instructor was right it was hard to judge. There was a temptation just to hold down the trigger and keep firing. The Browning was a nice weapon. The seven shot magazine was easy to change. It felt more like the Luger I had acquired. The difference was it used the same ammunition as the Thompson. I liked shooting and the time on the range was well spent.
After we had cleaned our weapons we returned to our digs. Sean said, "Let's go and have a pint in the local pub to celebrate and we can get some fish and chips from the chippy. It's Friday and they have fish." He pulled out his ration book. "And we have the rations too!"
Sean was a leader and we all followed him. We queued up with the locals who were also ready for their Friday night fish supper. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed them. The portions were slightly smaller than before the war but as Daddy said, "There is a war on and I reckon it won't be too long before we don't even get this."
It was a depressing thought. France and Norway had both fallen and we were alone. We heard stories of ships being torpedoed and there were daily rumours of invasion. As we sat in the pub Percy jerked a thumb at the newspaper being read by a local. "It looks like the RAF is doing well."
I saw the figures of downed aircraft. I shook my head, "Don't believe everything you read in the newspapers. The Germans have many more aeroplanes than us. And they have had practice in Spain. They know what they are doing."
Daddy nodded, "We had to endure Stuka attacks in Norway."
"They are a nasty machine even so you can bring them down." They asked me how I knew and I told them of the attacks during the retreat.
The door of the pub suddenly opened and we saw the two corporals, Horn and Lowe looming large. They saw us and they left. Sean shook his head, "They are like Frankenstein's monster and the Mummy that pair."
Daddy shook his head, "I'd steer clear of them two if I were you. They are not like us. They enjoy inflicting pain for the sake of it. Give them a black uniform and they could be Nazis. I am guessing that they want to pay back young Tom here. He showed them up good and proper today. "
"They are only here for another couple of days and then they go to show off to another Commando unit."
"That is a couple of days too many for me."
Daddy's words were a warning and I heeded them. When we all left, well before closing time, I kept to the middle of the road. The blackout restrictions meant that there were no street lights but it was midsummer and the sky was still light enough when we left to enable me to see if there was any danger. Joe was just sweeping out the waiting room when I arrived and I gave him a hand. I knew I had dropped lucky. He was a good landlord and if he wouldn't take my money he could take my help. I handed him the loaf I bought each day. It seemed a shame for him to have to use his own ration book for bread. After all I was eating it too. I bought a loaf every day. I think the woman in the shop thought I lived on bread alone! As I went to my hut I noticed a bicycle in the corner of the station.
"What's that, Joe?"
"Some joker dumped it close to the line. The handle bars are twisted. I was going to give it to the rag and bone man when he comes around. With the war on they want all the scrap they can get."
"It looks like a good bike. It has gears and racing handlebars. An owner wouldn't have dumped it."
"It was probably stolen."
"Do you mind if I have a go at doing it up? I like to keep busy."
"Be my guest."
I worked for an hour or so and by the time I had finished it could be ridden once more. I decided to see if I could work on the gears and the chain when time allowed.
After my normal breakfast with the engine driver and his fireman I set off to the camp. One advantage of my early breakfast was that I was the first one in camp. I was surprised to see two policemen at the Admin building. I was curious. Oswestry was a quiet town and, despite the number of soldiers, there was no trouble. Even Joe had commented on the peaceful nature of our soldiery.
I went into the lecture hall for the usual briefing. Sean was there as was Percy. Their digs were close to the camp. "What are the police doing here?"
"Search me." Sean looked around guiltily, "Now if they were the polis from Glasgow then I would be feeling worried but I have been a good little laddie here… so far."
The hall filled up and Captain Foster came in. He had a serious expression on his face. "Settle down, chaps. I have some serious news this morning. We have suffered our first casualty. Private Grant was attacked last night and received a severe beating. The police will be asking you all questions." He looked at our squad, "When the rest are dismissed then I would like Sergeant Johnson's squad to remain behind. The police will question you first."
We were given a brief outline of the activities for the day. It would be more of the same; hand to hand and then gunnery. I barely took it in. There were only three people who would wish harm to come to Daddy and none of them were commandos. As we waited Sean said, "It canna be any of us! They should ask those bastard corporals."
Sergeant Johnson said, "Don't start a fight before you have to McKinley. They know that you lot were with him last night. They will want to know his movements."
The police did, indeed, just want to know what we had all done when we had left the camp. Sean and Percy were the last to see Daddy. "We left him close to the entrance to the camp. He went to his digs up yon lane."
"That is where we found him. Did you see anyone at the end of the lane?"
Percy shook his head, "No and he only had four hundred yards to go. We thought he would be home in no time."
"Had he had much to drink?"
"Two or three pints. Hardly a skinful. How is he?"
"He is still unconscious but he has broken ribs and a broken nose. He is lucky to be alive. If the farmer's dogs hadn't alerted the farmer then he might have died in the night. Well thanks for your help lads and," the police sergeant leaned in, "from now on I would go around in pairs."
As
we went to the rugby field I said, "It is those three, Sergeant, we all know that."
"No we don't and besides the three of them didn't leave the hall last night."
"How do you know, Sergeant?"
"No one left the Hall after we went back to our digs last night. I checked the duty log this morning."
I did not believe that. It would have been simplicity itself for them to slip out and wait for some of us to pass by. That was why they had attacked Daddy. He was the closest to the camp. This was a warning from the three of them for us to behave. It had all been my fault. They could not get at me and so they had attacked Daddy. I would be ready the next time they tried anything.
For the next four days there was an air of tension in the camp. Due to their dubious alibis the two corporals seemed to be above suspicion and there was bad feeling between the Commandos and the Royal Artillery. The Captain visited Daddy but our comrade could remember nothing, just that he was jumped from behind and he thought that there were two of them. I used it as an opportunity to hone my skills. Each day I went home by a different route. Sometimes I headed in the opposite direction. On the third night I began by walking down the road. I had learned to trust my senses and I felt as though I was being followed. As soon as I could I ducked through a hedge and double backed on myself. I waited and sure enough the two corporals were following me. They did not see me and I listened to their conversation. It was obvious, from what they said, that they were trying to get to me. I turned the tables on them and followed the two thugs. They went to the station. They knew where I was billeted. They hung around for a while but when Joe came around to empty the rubbish bins they disappeared back towards the town. As Sergeant Greely and my dad had drummed into me no reconnaissance was ever wasted.
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