HORACE TRIM THE GOOD PEOPLE OF CHEUX CHAPTER TWO AS TOLD TO JOHN TENNANT

THE GOOD FOLK OF CHEUX
Our first return
We had a service in the church and then over to the Marie. Eve and I sat casually down by a French lady and I said "vous ete une bonne amie " and a French lady heard me. She came and said her name was Jones, she had married an Englishman. The lady we had sat by was the Mayoress of Cheux in 1944. They treated us proud, Calvados etc apple and strawberry flan, sandwiches and wine. Mrs Jones called over her daughters Hedwige and Collette. We talked and I said through Mrs Jones that we English never deserved such kindness. We came over to save ourselves as well as the French.

Eve and the Mayoress of Cheux of 1944 were like sisters when together and the Mayoress and Hedwige, 1 year old in 1944, managed to live through all that shelling.

At the end I took a lovely snap of the three. I took a form out of the Marie to outside and sat them down. It was a lovely snap.

Returning to Cheux I always remembered the shelling. That little clump of trees is now sky high.

We were made very welcome. Eve and I struck up a friendship that still continues. My last return was in 2004 and that will probably be the last. I went on my own following Eve`s death a few months before and it just was not the same. We had always returned together during almost 71 years of marriage.

Our last visit, July 10th to 15th 2004 was with a small party of 12 which became 14. We left the large party at Hill 112 on the Sunday. I drove wth Hegwige in her car and the small coach followed. The Marie was closed. They visited the Church. Three of us walked over to the Marie and I showed them our plaque for liberating Cheux.

Afterwards they followed Hedwige`s car to a lovely house. In a large room a table was laid with 3 pink plates at the head and small white plates down the sides. On entering a golden retriever came up to me and put his paws on my chest. I made a fuss of him. I could see a table cloth disappearing through the glass wall. He wrapped it round my legs and I wasn`t able to move. Hedwige took him away and I walked into that lovely lounge conservatory. I sat by one of the small white plates and Hedwige lifted me up and she sat me by the large plate at the head of the table. After we had eaten my niece said I should make a speech saying how we had met and become friends. I finished by reciting a poem by Bill Gould, now sadly dead, who sometime ago on one of our previous visits to Hill 112 had handed me a small piece of paper, saying as he did, that “we had stood there many times. I have written a poem for all those men and lads who waded ashore on the beaches of Normandy in 1944”.

“A Tribute”
by William J Gould
Upon this ridge of death we stand
The remnants of a happy band
Still comrades as the years fly by
To remember those who had to die

They bravely fought those friends of ours
Who spent with us such happy hours
And we in sorrow saw them slain
Never to be seen again

Can we so left to grace this scene
Pay homage fit for what has been
We trust that God accepts our thanks
For lives laid down in noble ranks

May peace be granted to us all
May nations hear the urgent call
Our thoughts for future time be blest
Than good in all be manifest

That after bitter wars great crime
There may be peace within our time
We pray that these our brothers may
Rise glorious at the judgement day

Horace has returned to Normandy seven times since 1944, mostly to Hill 112 where he was injured. Hill 112 is a 10 acre plateau, sloping on three sides. There was no cover on top apart from a copse surrounded by some hedges. The Germans believed that who held Hill 112 controlled Normandy. From current photographs it does not look much of a hill but in the flat Normandy countryside it was a commanding position and its capture was essential. The battle for Hill 112 cost the 43rd Division over 2,000 casualties. There is now a memorial on Hill 112 as a reminder of the carnage of those few days in the summer of 1944.

I have been privileged to share part of Horace`s life with him in recording his memories .Writing the above has given me an insight into a time when I was a very small boy. Thank you Horace and all your comrades.

JOHN TENNANT

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