Sword Beach to Bremen., A Veterans tale. Sapper

I hope you did not take offense to the "armchair strategist" comment, I was refering to the masses in general including myself. I would love to think if I could go back with what I know today I could win the war. Problem is, I can't go back, and I would mess it up anyway. Brave men like Brian committed to do the job that needed to be done led, for the most part, by the best we had at the time. Thanks gents!

 

Oh I didn't haha. Then again it is easy for people like us to say that we could have made a difference yet we havent been those situations before.

 

Food Glorious Food.

The thing always close to a man heart, is his stomach. So perhaps it would be interesting to talk about what ate during the campaign.

Firstly, we had two cooks. One short the other tall. Their speciality was tins of soup in a bloody great big cauldron, with crumpled up biscuits. That was the standard diet. Occasionally we had the tinned bacon. This was a long rasher taken in one long slice. Wrapped in grease proof paper, rolled up tight and tinned.

The bacon was I think “favourite” Tinned bacon was put into boiling water and left till scolding hot. Then came the most dangerous operation on the battle field ….Opening the tin. With the tin pointed away from you… pierce the top. Be very wary that no one is in the way….. A Quick stab with the commando knife, and there would be a high speed ejection of a mixture of hot fat, steam, and scolding hot water…. This jet could reach 12 feet and was lethal.

Great care when delving into the tin, as the bacon had to be unravelled, and great car that you got only the bacon, and not a mouthful of grease proof paper. (the grease proof paper did not taste very nice) Though it was greasy bacon flavoured.

Being young 19/20 year olds we were always hungry. So the addition of some fresh food was always welcome. Sadly, the cooks loathed and detested fresh food. So we got previous little of it. Here, let me repeat what I posted before, when the cooks got drunk on our schnapps

Food. Glorious Food.
A better description.
Living on "compo" rations is all very well for a little while, but biscuits, soup, and tinned food are not much to keep a healthy young man of nineteen going. Many of us were often hungry, so the addition of some fresh horsemeat and spring onions cooked in freshly made Norman farmhouse butter was something that tasted out of this world! Cooked in a billy-can all mixed up together, it did not look all that appetizing, but to us it was a feast, washed down with strong army tea all out of the same can.

Nectar sheer Nectar, never had anything like it since. Bit of a shame, I lost my knife and fork and the second part of my billy-cans in action, the Germans took a distinct dislike to my eating tools and blew them up, all my meals and drinks came out of one tin and with one spoon.

The redoubtable Spud was an artist at finding a nice little pig, he chased them into the most inaccessible place before dispatching it, he then brought it back to our harbour area where our cooks hated the sight of him! the very last thing they wanted to do was cook fresh food, all they ever wanted to do was to open tins and dish out biscuits.

One short and one tall, they seemed to spend their whole time moaning. Shortly after, we moved on and Spud had given them another pig to butcher and cook, that night as we dug our holes and settled down for some rest, we heard Germans whispering amongst themselves a short distance away, too damned tired, we left them alone, in the morning they had fled leaving behind a sack full of schnapps, one brave fellow volunteered to try it and found it much to his liking.

First light we were away, returning that night tired and hungry, we found that the two cooks had been drinking our schnapps, passed out, and rolled down a steep grassy slope, about thirty feet down from the cook tent. The two of them, dead drunk and laying in a stream at the bottom. Out of this world.

We got our own food that night. We have heard tales of revenge on the. battlefield, I have never seen it, but at times like that. Well, it makes you think…….
Swordman

 

I read in WWI the French were amazed that the Americans would buy as many eggs as they could produce, did you ever purchase foods from the locals?

 

Hi Sapper,
I hope all is well with you, I have missed not seeing any new posts in a while. Praying all is well with you and your family and friends.
John

 

Fine thanks John.... The household has been very busy, with a lot happening. A lot for an 85 year old to keep up with. Two lots of Freinds from Canada called.

This old sausage needs a bit of peace for a while ......Fat chance.... Just had my 2010 Dutch liberation medal brought back from Holland....

Hope you all keep well
Cheers Take Care.
Sapper

 

PS I can only walk short distances, and then with elbow crutches. What makes me laugh if I put on all the medals that I have...I could hardly walk for the weight...
Big grin....... And I would rattle as I walked...
Sapper

 

Glad to hear you are well, I look forward to reading your next posting. If you don't mind, you may have answered this in the past, what was your opinion of Omar Bradley? He seemed to be much liked by the US GIs.

 

Great man Bradley. The war in the west could have been over quicker had Patton done what Bradley wanted....Get to the front of Falaise, and help close the pocket... Patton refused, he was far too busy capturing the empty French Countryside, just to satisfy his own Ego... So many of the Enemy escaped..... that should have been taken,or destroyed. Just my opinion of course....
Great General Bradley.
Sapper

 

I am going to be a post hog for a second, What was your opinion of the airborne units (both British and US) who participated in Market Garden?

 

Top notch

But like all airborne troops they land, have a battle, and then it is left to the PBI the poor bloody infantry! But they were of high quality

 

Hi sapper. I've been catching up on your last few posts this week. Always good to hear your story snippets, no matter the subject. I enjoyed the bacon story - watch out for flying bacon grease shots!

Take care and thanks again for all the great info.

cd13

 

Hi CD.
There were some quite nasty scaldings from opening the bacon tins Seriously.
sapper

 

Thank you for the excellent stories Sapper. Looking forward to more!!

 

Brian,
I was wondering how the folks in the UK viewed those returning from Dunkirk. Was there a sense of reliefe that many had been saved, or was there a defeated army attitude, or was there a war is on the horizon we need every man we can get attitude?
The only thing I have to compare that to is the US Vietnam vets returning, and being from a military family, they were all heroes to me. But we didn't expect that the NVA were ready to mount amphibious landings on the beaches of California either.
John

 

Those men were greeted with open arms. For Dunkirk was a masterful operation. But then we stood entirely on our own. The last bastion of freedom in the whole of Europe. Had we fallen, Hitler would have won, no matter who stood against him. For with Britain he would have the huge industrial power of this small country. and 60 million souls he could work to death for the fatherland...

I remember only too well, how we prepared ourselves to fight to the death for every inch of our land..... Yet we had nothing to fight with.... Meanwhile, the air onslaught was unleashed on our land, night and day.

I left home to help, by being an Engineer in Southampton , where night after night, the Bombers came...At dusk the sirens went in the short summer nights, and departed at first dawn..... Long hours of work, and off to the training for the possibility of the coming invasion...

The Country stood together like no other time in our long history....No man shall own one inch of our land. Only the six feet we bury him in. NOT ONE INCH of this sacred isle...

This old boy saw all of it, both here and across to the beaches of Normandy...I am a very proud old buzzard. Though I paid a severe price for freedom, and still do today


Normandy. 6th of June. 1944
Hermanville sur mer Church.
The broken Church Bells rang out on D. Day.
The first joyous Bells of freedom to ring out
in France since the Nazi occupation.

"Freedoms Bells".
Veterans! Now that we are old and frail.
Our gift of Freedom, still prevails.
On Englands green and pleasant land
No foreign troops have laid their hand
Listen! Hear the Bells of Hermanville?
We who fought there, hear them still.

Across the years, our memories saved.
Of fine young men, who's lives they gave.
No song of lark, there, in darkened sky.
In front of Caen, we all came to die.
In high golden corn, our wounded fell.
Then burned to death, for Freedoms Bell.

Pegasus Bridge, came under fierce attack.
Our friends are dead, No! don't look back.
Listen? Is that the English Bells we hear?
From across the sea, to drown our fear?
For Mother Earth claims those that fall.
With soft Norman earth, to cover all.

For what lay ahead, fear gripped my soul.
For the guns must be paid, a human toll.
Pounded in our Norman orchard here,
While men went mad, and died from fear.
Tell me? is that the call of Freedoms Bell?
Or is it the harsh strident chimes of Hell?

Time will not heal, the wounds of soul.
Nor still the Bells of Freedoms toll.
For young men that died, are waiting yet.
Across the years, their hands outstretch.
"Forget me not, just speak my name.
And call me back, from where I've lain".

For Freedoms grace, is valiant won.
Fought for, by Brothers, Fathers, Son.
Unfurl the flag, that they died to save.
Then fly it high, and recall the brave.
Now Freedoms Bells, are muted, still.
Our hopes and dreams are not fulfilled.

On darkened, late, Mid-summers night.
With restless dreams, before dawns light.
Familiar faces gather, call my name.
Come! for Freedoms Bell, lets fight again!
Then into battle, with troubled dreams.
Watch men die, scream, curse, blaspheme.

For we, who are old, the guns still roar.
And long forgotten, young voices call.
Searching mortars, for humans seek.
To maim and kill, and wounding's wreak.
Hear the screams of men, in mortal pain?
Are those the Bells? That dread refrain?

Now, Freedoms Bells no longer ring.
The debts not paid, and greed is King.
We, still live the years of mighty deeds.
And grieve for our fallen, our wounded bleed.
Who will ring the Bell of Freedoms song?
When we are gone? When we are gone?

Brian Guy.
Sapper! Veteran! Old Buffer!
246 Field Company R.E. Eighth Brigade.
Third British Infantry Division.
Monty’s Ironsides

 

Again you have given insite into an area I could not begin to understand at a level that wisks me back as though I were there.

 

By the way...If I look a bit severe in my avatar....There is a reason. This picture is taken from a BBC Television broadcast. inside "Stings" Elizabethan Manor house....My war time convalescent home. Instead of my usual amiable appearance, I was asked to look SERIOUS This is what that looks like !

Sapper

 

Glad to see you posting again. I very much appreciated your poem. It felt very poignant particularly since it is still less than 1 week since I've been home from our Canadian Battlefields tour which included Caen, Verrierres Ridge, Pegasus Bridge, and on through Arnhem and Holland. I was honoured to be with some Veterans from Canada. Our hotel in Arnhem also had British Veterans. I thought of you and Ron when I heard and saw them.

 

I would love to have been able to return Michelle. sdaly the old boy is very disabled