Hi To Everyone.
May I first take this opportunity to thank very sincerely, all those kind folk that leave these messages for me. You are very kind! It is appreciated, and just shows what a lovely bunch you all are!

Before I start this next episode, may I just refer to Otto’s inclusion of the questionnaire that he sent me. I did hesitate before giving the OK to include it on his web site, but, after some serious thought, I agreed to the inclusion, The whole idea of these war stories is to show what the ordinary soldier experienced, and that those that paid the ultimate price, will be remembered! It also serves as a bit of social history, and what the World was like back in 1944.

I must emphasize again, that there was nothing special about me. I was just a very ordinary, and very green young man. Again, I would love to tell you how brave I was, and about my heroic deeds! But the truth is, I was not brave, and certainly not heroic!

The fact that I have chronicled the events here, is simply to record those times for posterity. The events of one of the Worlds greatest and most traumatic upheavals, was a time of great hardship and great sacrifices. But it must be said, a time when history was being reshaped. Those that took part in those momentous times (No matter how insignificant) had a hand in the reshaping of history. The World is now a better place.

The only thing I would say is, like all of those at the sharp end, the only way we could carry out our duties was to overcome our fear, and that we did manage. But it always lurked at the back of our minds. My Monties Certificate? The one I never got? Well those were given for good service, and that is all.

Fighting patrols. At Night
Try to get there first.
Now, to get back to the war! For us now, it was night patrols out on the bleak, flat, wet lands of Holland. Out there, were many little deserted villages and these night fighting patrols now became a regular practice. There were so many of these little villages out in the vicinity of the Maas, all totally deserted, we never saw a soul there, but, it was best to get there before the Enemy, if you could. Sitting behind what was once a window waiting for the appearance of the Enemy. Bren gun cocked ready.

Meanwhile, fresh food was becoming quite a problem, or lack of it! We were still living on soup, biscuits, and canned foods. I remember that we were all beginning to feel very tired, far to quickly, we heard that some units had been issued with real bread, but so far none had come our way and it was 4/5 months since we landed, one day, (glory be) we were issued with a half pint of beer, I shall never forget it, it was Tennants beer.

There was a lot of discontent at that time, we felt that our rations were being fiddled and pinched by those in the rear echelons, for precious little reached us! As the Winter began to draw in, we were issued with a navy rum ration every night, I liked mine with my tea, still being drunk out of my one single billy can.
Out on patrol in this “Virtual No mans land” all the locals had long departed leaving everything as it was, and all their animals to fend for themselves. Many chickens, all of them skinny and white long legged things, they could run a fit young Sapper off of his feet. “Shades of the road runner” My old friend Spud and myself, spent a great deal of energy chasing these very elusive hens. Even in the confined space of a chicken run, they managed to avoid us, more than once I threw myself headlong at these hens, only to come up empty handed, accompanied by loud squawks as they flew by at 90 miles per hour.

Spud. Bless him, had a very nasty habit of chasing a pig into the most inaccessible corner before dispatching it with a rifle bullet, we then had the job of carrying it back to the half track, dead weight, and lift the damn thing aboard. Shortly after, to be greeted with some very unpleasant remarks from our cooks.

So it continued, night patrols, some times with casualties, some time all you ever saw was a German patrol dog, one minute the dog was there, the next, as you turned your head he would vanish. Miserable, cold, flat, and featureless. For some one brought up amongst the green rolling hills and valleys of his native Dorset, I found Holland a very unpleasant place to conduct a war. Yet, on those infrequent times I met the Dutch people, I found them to be charming and very friendly, I do like the Netherlands Folk.

Next episode.
Strangers!