Dear Mum, I'm Back Alive, Love George

'This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Gwilym Scourfield of the County Heritage Team on behalf of George Senescall and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

Dear Mum, I’m Back Alive, Love George — Postcard from WW2

I was twenty in 1939 — a ‘Militia Boy’. I had intended doing a six month spell. It lasted six years. I was an estate agent, with a good knowledge of surveying. Everyone said when I went for the check-up that with that background I would never be put into the infantry. Well, when the papers came, I was assigned to the 1st 7th battalion of the Royal Warwickshires. You can’t get any more ‘infantry’ than that! The C.O., by the way, was Peter Cranmer who played cricket for Warwickshire.

They sent us to Rouen in France with so little training I didn’t know one end of a rifle from the other. The action was pretty swift. I was with ‘B’Company. There were some thirty or so men. The barrage of fire was terrifying. We were all scared stiff. We just ran. There were German planes dive bombing from the air and every sort of fire all around; machine guns, artillery, sniper fire — the lot! We soon found ourselves on the beach at Dunkirk waiting to get a lift home on one of the many tiny boats that came out from England. I was terrified of water. I couldn’t swim. It was chaos. I didn’t know where most of our outfit were. It was every man for himself at that time. They told us to go out to the boats. “Jump!” was the order, but the water was much too deep. I found myself going under. I must have nearly drowned. I don’t even remember getting aboard. Some Coldstream Guardsmen helped me on to that boat. I owe my life to them. And I was worried because I had dropped my rifle!

We landed at Weymouth. The W.V.S. greeted us off the little boats with a cup of tea and a biscuit. They gave us all a stamped postcard to send a message home. I’ve still got it. My mum left it for me. It says, “Dear Mum, See you soon. I’m back alive, Love George.”

I had a week’s leave, before we were transferred to Baggington near Coventry. They asked if there was anyone who knew anything about radio. I was sent on a course to Northampton Technical College to learn about radar. After passing the course, I was transferred to the RAOC, which became the REME —

(Actually it stands for ‘Royal Electrical Mechanical Engineers’ , but the lads used to say it meant, ‘ Reckers of Every Make of Equipment’!) We operated from huge green sheds. Then we were sent up to Glasgow. That was an awful posting!

Soon after, we were sent out to Lekrube in Algiers. Talk about a terrifying landing! We were bombed as we tried to get ashore. We were so lucky not to get hit. We were attached to 16th Light Aid Detachment, a detachment of REME to mend tank radios. We had a van, fully equipped with all our repair gear.

There were good times, too. The chap in charge of our unit, Sergeant Riley, was a lovely man. My best mate stayed with me throughout the war, Roy Kelly his name was. I lost touch a couple of years after the war. There were other great chaps, too. I would love to meet up again with some of them. We started a dance band. I played piano and there was Wally Unsworth, from Yorkshire on trombone and a Scotsman on saxophone. We even won a prize in Rome after the war.

We followed the action to Salerno and then to the chaotic Monte Casino. That was the worst part of all! The Germans had fortified a monastery on the top of a steep rocky cliff. It was impregnable, but a lot of men were lost trying, (fortunately not from our outfit). The Americans bombed us while we were trying to use radar to locate the gun positions that were firing at them and us. The Polish troops were marvellous. They and the Sikhs really made a huge fuss of us. I’ve nothing but admiration for the courageous way they fought in Italy. It was great being able to support them.

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