16 Feb. 1943 Battery Diary: Battery Diary: ... ...Battery Commander, and Gun Position Officer to El Aroussa via Le Kef to report to C.R.A. 6th Armoured Div. Battery to move to hide west of Gafour Armoured Div. Battery to move to hide west of Gafour.
"Why do they keep hidin" us," says Chalky. "I"m not ashamed of being a Gunner."
We bade farewell to lovely s.h.i.t-laden Le Kef and set off in our little Khaki Noddy Cars.
A sign "Dust means death", Shepherd commented. "Aye, if ye get too much in yer lungs it kills ye," he says. We pa.s.sed camouflaged ammo dumps, rear Echelon vehicles, tents, bivvys etc. Crossing the road ahead were what would seem like bundles of rags on legs, carrying rifles and gas stoves.
"They"re Goums," said Lt Budden.
"Goons?" I giggled.
"GOUMIERS! French African Troops you illiterate fellow."
"Personally sir, I think it"s the Irish Guards in drag." The Goums were accompanied by wives, children, chickens, goats, dogs, and what looked like the entire contents of Harrods furniture repository. The Goums were right. We should take our women to war, khaki knickers and all.
"Wake up darling."
"What is it dear."
"Those awful Germans want righting dear."
"Not again. I killed three yesterday."
"Here"s your sandwiches and rifle. Try and not use the bayonet dear, you know what a mess it makes on the carpet." We were being waved across by a Military Policeman. His trousers had knife-edge creases, even his legs had knife-edge creases. His webbing was blinding white, his bra.s.s-work flashed in the sun like gold bayonets. He saluted Lt Budden. "Try and go slow, sir, we"ve had three straffings this morning, it"s the dust."
"You must get a Hoover," I said to him, and drove on.
"That, Milligan," said Budden, "was what I call real real bulls.h.i.t." bulls.h.i.t."
"Ah! So you can can tell the difference sir." tell the difference sir."
I told him an idea to end the war. All you do is drop fifty English char ladies on the Fuhrer"s bunker. In one week the Hun would be broken. "Come on now, I"m not "avin" all those men in jack boots stompin" on my polished floor. Never mind about silly old Stalingrad, you sit down and I"ll bring you a nice cup of tea and a cheese roll for Mr Goering."
We pa.s.sed Gafour, another dung village, and pulled up on a flat rocky plateau with stunted trees and scrub, but no Porridge.
"Listen sir," I said, "gunfire!"
"Yes," said Lt Budden, "there"s a lot of it about."
A mile to our left towered the blue grey shape of Djbel Eich Cheid, rising some thousand metres. Moving towards us in a cloud of dust was a flock of goats attended by a small boy, whose sole occupation was to hit them and shout "Yeaeah". Growing almost in secrecy were cornflowers. This little flower was the first to bloom in Hiroshima after the holocaust; so much for the power of the Atom. Lurching hither, his hat on sideways was the Great Edgington. He carried yet another mug another mug of tea. How of tea. How did he did he manage to brew up so quick? "I"ll tell you," he said. "It"s fear." manage to brew up so quick? "I"ll tell you," he said. "It"s fear."
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Hitlergram No. 1560934a Fuhrer: Tea-zat is how ve will break zer Britisher! Tea-zat is how ve will break zer Britisher! MESSERSCHMIDT: MESSERSCHMIDT: A great idea mein Fuhrer. A great idea mein Fuhrer. Fuhrer: Fuhrer: Zer Englanders, zey like make drink tea?-zis is vat I vant you should make, you vill build eine Tank-zis Tank vill inside a bladder have-in zer bladder ve have zer smell of zer NAAFI tea-we sneak zer tank up on zer Tommy Lines, at 4 o"clocken, zer gun barrel, we squirt zer NAAFI tea smell up zere trouser legs. Zer Englanders, zey like make drink tea?-zis is vat I vant you should make, you vill build eine Tank-zis Tank vill inside a bladder have-in zer bladder ve have zer smell of zer NAAFI tea-we sneak zer tank up on zer Tommy Lines, at 4 o"clocken, zer gun barrel, we squirt zer NAAFI tea smell up zere trouser legs. MESSERSCHMIDT: MESSERSCHMIDT: Squirt ze tea Schmell? Squirt ze tea Schmell? HITLER: HITLER: Zen zer Tommy will jump up and run vid zer mug tovords zer tea-schmell-tank. Zen we shoot-bang-fire! Zen zer Tommy will jump up and run vid zer mug tovords zer tea-schmell-tank. Zen we shoot-bang-fire! MESS: MESS: Zis vill finish zer Englanders. Zis vill finish zer Englanders.
We listened to the BBC one o"clock news. Stewart Hibberd was telling us the First Army troops had "successfully disengaged the enemy," this meant we"d taken a bashing. Why not "British troops confuse enemy by refusing to fight."
The little shepherd boy stood watching with eyes like huge brown liquid marbles. "Quelle est votre nom?" I asked.
"Mahomet," he said.
"Me Spike Milligan," I said.
I gave him some boiled sweets, it came as a shock when I realised he wasn"t quite sure what they were, I had to eat one to show him. We take a lot of things for granted. The afternoon was warm. Some lads, shirts off, basking in the sun, white bodies, eyes closed, what were they thinking? Pint at the Pub? Watching Millwall at the Den? A walk with the Girl on Sunday? See? The lazy sods, that"s all they ever think of! Booze, Football and s.e.x.
The afternoon was pa.s.sing very slowly, we threw stones, broke branches off trees, played Pontoon, we played stones, broke Pontoon and threw trees. We walked around. We sat down. We stood up. We smoked. "Christ if only we had an air raid or measles." Spike Deans had bought two chickens off an Arab, and for three francs each we could partake of them for din-din! That night we sat dining on roast chicken and drinking the last bottle of wine. We drank and sang I"ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places". In the distance we could hear guns. In the shadows our own guns stood silent in their covers. Soon it would be their turn.
17th Feb. Dawn Yawning, I slipped the Humber into gear. "Rendezvous Map Reference 68039." said Lt Budden. "You holidayed in Cornwall you say?"
The road was difficult. Come to think of it, so was I. It was marked camel track and it took us to El Aroussa, a small wayside railway station, now a smoking ruin. Around it were the blackened skeletons of a dozen or so lorries. Inside shattered buildings were blood spattered walls, blood soaked battle dress jackets and trousers. An old Arab, all that was left of the station staff ("Toute morte") described how it happened. Stukas had come yesterday, in a few minutes it was all over.
"Christ," says Bdr Sherwood. "What"s happened?"
"Don"t worry, these are only the cheap seats," I said.
"He must have been a bad driver," said Chalky White. The humour was a bit forced. None of us were sure what to say. The officers were grouped around a map, and appeared more excited than is good for English gentlemen.
"What are they on?" said Chalky.
"Vitamin B." I said.
Up the line comes Chater Jack"s truck. "Prepare to move! Lads, Yoiks, Tally Ho!"
We followed him towards Bou Arada. Half a mile on he turned left across the railway lines, down a bank, over a dusty wheat field towards a small farm nestling at the foot of the Djbel Rihane (nicknamed "Grandstand Hill"). Behind, the great khaki guns rolled like fat babies as they negotiated the bosomy terrain. The silence was broken by the sharp crack of artillery.
"They sound like Mediums," said Lt Budden.
"Too small sir," I said. "I take Outsize."
Sergeant Dawson raced past on his motorbike; when we arrived at the farm, he was waiting with the Major, soon the area was a ma.s.s of frenetic action.
"Scrim Nelson!"
"Disperse Wireless Trucks under those trees!"
"Monkey trucks prepare to lay ten-mile telephone line!"
"All guns in that Wadi there!"
"Bombardier ? Form OP Party!"
"For G.o.d"s sake," I said, "There"s more orders than men." Edgington joined in, "All Gunners stand on one leg and lean eastward."
The guns were towed into a Wadi. Command Post tent appeared to have been put up by trainee Wolf Cubs. Bren guns were mounted against aircraft. "Lucky sods," said White, "all they got to do is scratch their b.a.l.l.s and look up."
The 200 lb mustard coloured sh.e.l.ls were being unloaded and stacked. Signallers were lugging communications equipment into the Command Post, specialists were putting up Artillery Boards and all those fiddling instruments that computed which German the sh.e.l.l would hit. Of course they could have put all the names in a hat. A trestle table was erected for the Tannoy Control. Next to it were the telephone and the wireless set. Cables were run to the gun positions, loudspeakers at each sub-section connected and tested. It worked like this. Place loudspeaker near gun, connect wire from Command Post, press b.u.t.ton on top of loudspeaker at Gun Position. Immediately light flashes in Command Post control panel.
"h.e.l.lo B Sub. You"re flashing, can you hear me?"
"Yes, but we"re not B Sub, we"re A Sub."
"Oh f.u.c.k, can you flash again?"
"I"m not going to become a flasher fer anybody."
Signallers are laying a line to the Waggon Lines, the place for vital supplies, vehicles, cowards, and Porridge. It is important to appear busy. Gunner White was cunningly going round with an empty DDT tin, when questioned, he would spring to attention and say "Delousing Sah!" and he got away with it. On the next page I have drawn from diary a plan of the 19 Battery layout including the sleeping accommodation.
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19 Battery gunners specially marked with large white crosses to make them easier targets for the Germans[image]
Major Chater Jack"s letter of the time recounts: ... ...perhaps an idea of what my H.Q, looks like would be possible but to get the atmosphere is impossible. It is rather like one of the original structures at K.K but there is very much more of it. Tony (Goldsmith) and I have bedding at one end handy to us, our wireless, telephone and loudspeaker systems to the guns. In the middle is a table, some charts and an electric light run by bringing in the headlight of the vehicle outside. At the other end is Wood (Batman) and a few others who are this moment trying to get a primus stove going for tea, since we have just had "stand down" as the sun rises...
I never found out what this meant.
Ridiculous! Sit Sit down yes, but down yes, but stand stand down, impossible! It was late afternoon, we were hurrying to establish an O.P. before dark. down, impossible! It was late afternoon, we were hurrying to establish an O.P. before dark.
Battery Diary: Battery Diary: Battery moved into action, north of Bou Arada. Map Ref. 6006 Battery moved into action, north of Bou Arada. Map Ref. 6006.
By nightfall guns were dug in, and living quarters constructed. In my mud hut I took out my trumpet and played "Lili Marlene".
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A 7-2 Howitzer being made ready for its first time in action-Bou Arada Feb. 1943 n.a.z.i NEWS FLASH.
ROMMEL: Hear zat? Zis man Hear zat? Zis man must must be captured, he has shown considerable initiative! To play a German tune be captured, he has shown considerable initiative! To play a German tune behind behind zer Allied Lines, he must have zer complete confidence of General von Alexander. We must capture zis Golden Englander Trumpet-speiler! zer Allied Lines, he must have zer complete confidence of General von Alexander. We must capture zis Golden Englander Trumpet-speiler! VON HATATIME: VON HATATIME: How can ve use him? How can ve use him? ROMMEL: ROMMEL: First we make him Field Marshall Spike von Milligan and Company Limited n.a.z.i Holdings, Bankers Hill Samuels then he will face the Allied Line and play "Charge!" Ven zer British are almost up to our lines he will play "Retreat", they will withdraw, zen he will play "Charge" again, zen " Retreat". After five hours zer Britishers vill be, how you say? First we make him Field Marshall Spike von Milligan and Company Limited n.a.z.i Holdings, Bankers Hill Samuels then he will face the Allied Line and play "Charge!" Ven zer British are almost up to our lines he will play "Retreat", they will withdraw, zen he will play "Charge" again, zen " Retreat". After five hours zer Britishers vill be, how you say? VON H: VON H: s.h.a.gged out! s.h.a.gged out! ROMMEL: ROMMEL: Ya. s.h.a.gged out! Ya. s.h.a.gged out! VON H: VON H: Supposing he refuses? Supposing he refuses? ROMMEL: ROMMEL: He von"t I have zomething here, he will do anything for! He von"t I have zomething here, he will do anything for! The scene: The scene: Here Rommel hands Von Hatatime a photograph. Von H. looks, has seventeen premature e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, staggers, backs forwards, sideways, sweat pouring from his Field Marshall"s baton, speaks. Here Rommel hands Von Hatatime a photograph. Von H. looks, has seventeen premature e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, staggers, backs forwards, sideways, sweat pouring from his Field Marshall"s baton, speaks. VON H: VON H: Mein Gott. Louise from Bexhill! Mein Gott. Louise from Bexhill! ROMMEL: ROMMEL: Look at zose Knockers. Look at zose Knockers. VON H: VON H: Vunderschoen. I Now I know why zey call you zer Foxtrot of the Desert. Vunderschoen. I Now I know why zey call you zer Foxtrot of the Desert.
The Signallers were all inside the Arab hut which now glowed yellow with improvised oil lamps. I checked my Tommy gun for the night. I had continually worked out in my mind the precautions I would take if confronted by Germans. It was a simple but highly effective plan, I would raise my hands above my head and say "I surrender."
Through our door came Sergeant Dawson! Grinning evilly he removed the blankets from my weary body.
"We"re looking for our first hero casualty. We"re laying a line to the O.P."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"I was just going to bed, it"s Rita Hayworth"s turn."
"Get yer b.l.o.o.d.y boots on."
"I must get my rest Sarge-people are saying I"m finished."
"I"ll tell you when you"ll be finished. Four o"clock tomorrow morning."
I pulled my boots on, got my pliers, Tommy gun, and slid into the dark. The detail was, L/Bdr Sherwoods and his Bren Carrier, Sgt Dawson, Gunners Hart, Webster, Milligan and Bdr Fuller, who knew where the O.P. was. Dawson told us "Silence is imperative." We set off being imperatively silent which couldn"t be heard because of the noise of the Bren Carrier. We walked behind with a cable drum that went clinkety-clank. Why? The "hole" in the cable drum was square square but the spindle was round. We all spoke in hysterical whispers. G.o.d knows why, to communicate we had to shout above the engine. As this charade went on, we started to giggle, then outright laughter. "Stop the b.l.o.o.d.y Bren." shouted Dawson, himself on the verge of laughter. There was a suppressed silence. Unable to stand it, we all burst out laughing again. but the spindle was round. We all spoke in hysterical whispers. G.o.d knows why, to communicate we had to shout above the engine. As this charade went on, we started to giggle, then outright laughter. "Stop the b.l.o.o.d.y Bren." shouted Dawson, himself on the verge of laughter. There was a suppressed silence. Unable to stand it, we all burst out laughing again.
"Stop it at once!" said Dawson through his own laughter. We stopped. "Now stop it, or I"ll kill the b.l.o.o.d.y lot of you." A white star sh.e.l.l lit the night.
"What"s that?" said Ernie Hart.
"That, Ernie, means that a child has been born in Bethlehem," I said.
"Well, he"s two months late and the wrong b.l.o.o.d.y map reference." Another two star sh.e.l.ls.
"She"s had triplets," said Ernie. After an hour we reached the O.P. hill.
"This way," said Bombardier Fuller. Birch and followed with reel.
"Stop that fokin" noise," hissed an angry Irish voice, "you"ll get us all fokin" mortared."
We took the spindle from the drum and unwound by hand. More flares, suddenly a rapid burst of automatic fire. It was a Spandau, a return burst, the unmistakable chug, chug, chug of a Bren gun. A flare silhouetted us beautifully for the whole Afrika Korps to see. "Freeze," hissed Fuller. I had one leg raised when he said it. Somewhere a German O.P. officer was saying "Himmel! zey are using one-legged soldiers." The flares fade. Fuller says "I"m lost."
"I thought you"d never say it," I said. We groped our way back to the party who were inside the Bren practising fear and smoking. Dawson attached a phone to the line.
"h.e.l.lo, Gun Position here."
"This is Sergeant Dawson. Tell Major Chater Jack we can"t find the b.l.o.o.d.y O.P., will it be all right tomorrow?" We waited. "Yes" Chater said "OK tomorrow, but before first light."
"Let"s b.u.g.g.e.r off," said Dawson.
We piled into the carrier. I looked up. What a sky! The heavens encrusted with stars, the milky way hung like a luminous veil across the firmament.
"Halt." Two sentries loomed in the dark. "Friend or Foe?"
"Friends," we all screamed from the grovelling position. "What"s the pa.s.sword?"
Dawson tried explaining in a thick Jordy accent, "Why mon, we doant noe. Weaire Gooners from 56 Artilury, weaire layin a lyine." The accent was sufficient for us to pa.s.s. About one o"clock we arrived at the G.P. Our guns were firing. What a b.l.o.o.d.y noise. What in heaven"s name did they think they were doing-it was past midnight! What would the neighbours say? Soldiers needed rest. They have to get up every morning looking lovely for their Regiments.
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Map of route to O.P. GENERAL MONTGOMERY: GENERAL MONTGOMERY: Have you seen Gunner Milligan this morning? Have you seen Gunner Milligan this morning? GENERAL ALEXANDER: GENERAL ALEXANDER: No, why? No, why? GENERAL MONTGOMERY: GENERAL MONTGOMERY: He looks so tired and washed out. The Germans shouldn"t really see him like that. He looks so tired and washed out. The Germans shouldn"t really see him like that. GENERAL ALEXANDER: GENERAL ALEXANDER: By Jove yes, I"ll ask him to see the M.O. By Jove yes, I"ll ask him to see the M.O. The scene: The scene: Later at the M.O.: Later at the M.O.: GNR MILLIGAN: GNR MILLIGAN: I don"t know, every morning I wake up listless and jaded and the men are talking. I don"t know, every morning I wake up listless and jaded and the men are talking. M.O.: M.O.: Milligan, you"re suffering from night-starvation. I want you to wake up five times a night and drink three gallons of Porridge. Milligan, you"re suffering from night-starvation. I want you to wake up five times a night and drink three gallons of Porridge. The scene: The scene: Next morning: Next morning: GENERAL MONTGOMERY: GENERAL MONTGOMERY: Seen Milligan this morning? Seen Milligan this morning? GENERAL ALEXANDER: GENERAL ALEXANDER: Yes, he"s back to his old self, thanks to Yes, he"s back to his old self, thanks to TOGETHER: TOGETHER: Porridge! Porridge!
I got to bed. Yawning, I pulled the blankets over me, doused the lamp and slid into dream-lit hours of dark freedom. To sleep under the ear shattering blasts of our guns seemed impossible, yet as they thundered in the night towards Medjez el Bab, we slept like babes. It seemed I had just put my lovely head to pillow when the boot of the sentry delicately kicked me conscious.
"Milligan."
"Mmmm? Arggggg Schmatter Gwanpizorf."
"You and Fuller have got to connect the O.P. line."