The story of my brother Norman

Corporal Shaw was the eldest of four brothers - I was the youngest. We all served in the army in WW2. We had eight sisters, one - Dolly - was Norman's twin. Our family lived in South Kirkby, a mining village in South Yorkshire. Norman was born in 1913 - he wasn't tall, but wiry and athletic.

He left school at fourteen, and as was normal practice, followed our Dad who was a miner and got a job at the local pit. He was entrusted with driving a pit pony which was used in pulling the laden or empty tubs (coal trucks) between the coal face and the pit bottom. Hard work - he grew fond of his little pit pony.

At the age of sixteen, Norman was given the opportunity by some society or other in the North, which helped hundreds like him to better themselves by working abroad. He jumped at the chance of becoming a sheep farmer in Australia and soon he, with about four hundred others, was on board S.S.Osterley on their way to Australia. Norman liked his job in Australia because he did a lot of horse riding which he loved, but after about a year he was out of a job. His boss was killed when he fell off the top of a ladder, and so ended Norman's sheep farming. Undeterred, we next heard of him from Auckland, New Zealand where we had two uncles - our Mother's brothers - who had emigrated there with their wives, two school teachers from South Kirkby.

Norman soon left there having signed on as a stoker aboard a British tramp steamer S.S.Antiope - a tough job in any language. He sailed from country to country until finally arriving at London Docks where he left the ship and decided to join the army. (By the way, his ship the Antiope was sunk in the mid-Atlantic by a U-Boat in the summer of 1942).

He joined the 16/5th Lancers (the "Death or Glory Boys") because of his love of horses - the depot was at Escrick near York. Not long after he joined, his regiment was mechanised and he transferred to the 17/21st Lancers who still had horses. After a while he was put on reserve and was given a job in "civvy street" as groom to Colonel Williams of Chavanage House near Tetbury. While there, he met and married his wife Edith and soon their daughter Monica came along.

When WW2 threatened, he was recalled to the colours and with about 250 cavalry reservists, was sent to Palestine. His experience there was unknown to me, I never communicated with him as I was a soldier myself in Britain, but I later knew that he was transferred to The Royal Scots Greys Regiment and was part of the 7th armoured division - the "Desert Rats".
They were soon involved in heavy fighting against the Germans, first at the Battle of Alam Haffa which put a stop to Rommel's idea of getting to Egypt, and then in the fierce Battle of Alamein which was grim. The Greys were involved in the long pursuit of the German army alomg the North African coast until Tripoli was reached. The Greys halted there and began training for amphibious operations - this training was put to the test at the invasion of Southern Italy at Salerno. The invasion did not go well for Norman. His landing craft was approaching the beach when it came under intense gunfire close in, and he was badly wounded in both legs. He was in the water, but being a good swimmer he painfully made it to the beach where he lay for hours before being attended to. He was finally evacuated and flown to Phillipsville in North Africa where he was in hospital for many weeks. From there he was evacuated to England where he spent many more weeks in hospital at Leigh-on-Sea, Essex. At this time, the Desert Rats had returned to Britain, the division having been earmarked for D-Day. As Norman got better and was recuperating, he was given the opportunity of either joining a training unit and staying in England, or rejoining his pals in The Greys. He chose to go back to his squadron and obviously, more fighting.

As D-Day approached, The Greys moved to Worthing and sailed from there on the evening of D-Day, arriving the following evening at Courselles in Normandy. The place had been cleared of the enemy, but as time went on The Greys were involved in heavy fighting for weeks continuously until the breakthrough came for the Allies towards the end of August - it had been a terrible struggle. Then came the mad dash out of Normandy. The Greys were in the van and had just crossed the River Seine. The morning after they were regrouping when they were ordered to reach the River Somme that day - a distance of about 55 miles.
It wasn't to be for Norman. His troop hadn't gone far when his tank was approaching an isolated farm at Grumesnil, when it was hit by a panzerfaust (bazooka). The tank being petrol engined blew up, and all the crew were killed. His officer Sgt. Dawes' tank was also hit at the same time but as his tank was diesel engined, it didn't blow up, the crew being injured. Two young infantrymen of the K.R.R.C were riding on our Norman's tank at the time and they too were killed by the blast.

The lads who died are buried in the French cemetry at Forges Les Eau near to Grumesnil where the tragedy happened.
I visited there in 1989 and again in 1990 when I had Norman's widow Edith with me, and her daughter Monica and her husband Michael.

Norman died on 31st August, 1944 aged 31 years old.

(By Harold Shaw, War veteran, Coventry)

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