Bob Tilston is Holt born and bread

ONE MAN’S WAR

Bob Tilston is Holt born and bred. He joined the RAF in the winter of 1940, signing on just outside Manchester, from where he moved to Blackpool to do his basic training, more commonly known as ‘square bashing’. As soon as this was complete he was transferred to Lincolnshire to await a permanent posting. Bob thought it was cold in Blackpool but it was nothing compared to Lincolnshire. Volunteers were asked for a posting to the Middle East, “Where the sun never set, and all this old codswallop you see”. That was enough for Bob, the promise of sunshine beckoned.

Little did Bob realise the route he’d be taking to get to the Middle East — Liverpool to Glasgow to Greenland to Canada, down the North American coast then finally across to West Africa. One moment of excitement off the West African coast saw Bob’s ship colliding with another in the convoy, “such a hell of a crash and they said Oh! The Captain had got drunk and didn’t know which way he was going”. This resulted in the ship being towed into Freetown harbour for running repairs and then after a short delay onto Cape Town. After a three week wait for another ship which never arrived Bob and the rest were moved northwards on a troop train into Durban, four days and nights without stopping. Here they were kitted out with desert equipment to a wait another ship bound for Egypt. Whilst waiting Bob saw the Queen’s Elizabeth and Mary arrive, stopping off on their way north carrying Australian troops for the desert campaign. These troops were given shore leave where they proceeded to cause havoc with their antics. This was the last time the Australians stopped here! Bob finally got to Egypt via the Red Sea and the Suez Canal, disembarking at Alexandria. From here, Bob was posted to 33 Squadron as a driver. 33 Squadron had been formed in the desert in 1937, originally equipped with Gladiator bi-planes. This was the outfit he stayed with throughout the war. Bob was soon shipped out to Greece then onto Crete where the New Zealanders were fighting with no air support. Flying Gladiators meant they were given a hammering at the hands of the better equipped Germans. Eventually they were taken back to Alexandria and re-equipped with Hurricanes. On the squadron was a little black dog, a mongrel, no bigger than a Jack Russell. He was adopted by Bob and his mates and named Shag. He proved to be a valuable early warning system, “If he heard a German aeroplane he would sit up and howl… he was marvellous”.

One day during a German offensive which forced 33 squadron to move out, Bob and his mates were in a truck along with Shag when they stopped to brew up. In the distance they could hear the enemy approaching and thought it was wise to move on. They hadn’t gone two miles when “The bloody dog’s not here, well I’ll tell you what you lot, get off the back and I’ll go back, if anyone’s going to get caught it’ll be me”. When Bob got back there was the dog jumping for joy when he saw Bob, luckily there was no sign of the Germans. With all the trials and hassles of the war Shag proved to be a good companion to Bob.

Unfortunately, Bob was injured by a bomb blast which resulted in him being treated at an Australian Field Hospital. On being examined the Doctor quickly realised that Bob wasn’t an Australian and asked where he came from “Holt, near Wrexham”. The Australian Doctor smiled he know Wrexham and Holt well having trained as a bone specialist at Gobowen.

One of Bob’s most memorable moments in the desert was about two weeks before the battle of Alemain, when in the middle of one night he heard the sound of bagpipes which he found very moving. It turned out to be the 51st Irish Division being marched in.

Bob’s Squadron went on to be the first squadron into France after D Day in 1944. This was the year that Bob returned to Holt for leave, he’d been away over three years. He was thrilled to be back but none of his mates were around, they were all serving in the armed forces somewhere or other. Holt seemed very quiet with a large number of Italian POW’s working on the farms. After his leave it was back to the squadron, now down on Salisbury Plain being re-equipped with Spitfires in readiness for D Day.

Bob Tilston turned out to have seen a great may places he hadn’t expected. His story is probably not unique; many men left their homes to serve. Bob was one of the lucky one’s who came back.

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