D Day and Beyond

D Day and Beyond

As an electronics wizard in Royal Signals; I joined 7th field Regiment R A and 185 Infantry Brigade of 3rd British Division. We trained for D Day mostly in Scotland. May 1944 moved south.
1st June Waterlooville, where King George VI wished us well. Our maps showed the full invasion details. “Queen; Hillman; Rolls- Royce; Beer; Whiskey; Rum etc. We knew it was France, because of the liberation Francs and the condoms. We were also given an experimental sea-sickness pill (instructions read — not to be taken until sick).
Sunday 4th June to devastated Portsmouth and silent civilians, we sang to cheer them up. Our Landing Craft Tank (LCT) was five craft out from the pier to Isle of Wight.

In July 1938 I had waited there for holiday to Ventnor and met my future wife.
D Day postponed; we disembarked and were housed in the naval barracks. When the blackout were taken down, HMS Victory was outside my window.
Weather perfect for invasion, cold wet and windy, LCT toilets already full. Then off for a trip round the island. In mid channel the cross currants took effect, I lay under a tank trying to rest. When someone rolled a tin of hot sweet cocoa to me it was the last straw, clutching my pill I joined the majority at the rails. The fishes had a feast of pills and vomit that morning.

My job was to set up spare transmitters, it was about 7.30, dry land at last. I was asked to check a bunker which had phone wires leading from it. Inside was my first German, dead. The resistance had got there first. We were behind schedule, half-tracks stuck in the dunes, had to winch them off. My jeep had not made it ashore so I was given a lift on 10 tons of High Explosives.

The first village we entered was Lion-Sur-Mere, its post office was ablaze, inside a woman was trying to save the stock, she held two large jars of sweets, I hope she survived.

Our next objective, Benoville, it was getting dark. Camouflaged guns and vehicles then slept in a ditch. Next morning ditch full of exhausted infantry so decided to make the tea. The water tanker was across the field, overlooked by a church tower. Coming back I heard whistling noises, a sniper was in the tower, I dived for cover and every gun opened up. Church destroyed, but no tea that morning.

En-route to our final destination we passed a burning racing stable, the gunners rushed in and rode out on thoroughbreds, jumping hedges and ditches — “Charge of the Light Brigade.”
Our home for the next six weeks was three miles short of Caen. The fields were full of dead cattle and horses, a stallion and mare had tried to save their foal, it lay between them. Cows not milked, their udders dragging on the ground. We milked those we could catch, one with a damaged hind leg would limp to my slit trench and moo. A nearby farmer and family brought us calvados, camembert and butter.

Guns were already in action, one battery supporting 6th Airborne at Pegasus Bridge. Next day we heard that Bayeux had been taken and a POW cage set up. We and 3rd Canadians had none to send, Canadians said “We take no prisoners ever” they remembered Dieppe. Our farmer told me that they were going to Bayeux to “spit at the Germans” I got them some fuel for their old truck and on Sunday 18th June, dressed in Sunday best, they did just that.

First letter from home told me that our house had been hit by a V1 on 19th June. My wife had been trapped in the cellar and rescued by the wardens. They told her to stand guard against looters. Se thought this strange: there was no back to the house. She also mentioned that she was pregnant..

In the first week we learned not to crouch behind a bush when we heard an “88”, I was on top of our Sherman repairing the aerial, when one arrived. Whilst jumping off I saw earth falling back a few yards away, so climbed back and finished the job. It was our command vehicle with two transmitters and a dummy gun. A guns’ recoil would have killed the radio operator. My workshop was the frame and canvas of a 3 ton truck.

The beachhead route was “Four horse crossroads” (Germans had horse dawn limbers with polished brass and harness) The gun had been removed but the dead horses dragged to each corner, getting fatter and smellier each day. Next three dead Germans, crouching behind a telephone pole in a minefield, they grew greyer from the dust. Incoming convoys driving on the wrong side of the road caused several casualties. Opposition got stronger with rocket propelled multi barrelled mortars. (Nebel and mini weurffers). Our cookhouse was hit and the cook went mad, he crouched in his dugout for three days waving a huge knife. We lived off cold soya sausage, chocolate and boiled sweets, then decided to make a stew. A field of potatoes was nearby, started digging when an old Frenchman rode up on an ancient bike. I greeted him with my best French “Bon jour m’sieur” He glared at me and said “Bon jour be buggered!, liberators you are looters!” He was an English solider of 14/18 who had stayed in France with The War Graves Commission. We were taking his spuds. Some francs changed hands and we parted friends.

One day we realized that the tank and gun batteries were flat, we were sitting ducks. I recharged them with my faithful “chore horse” it chugged away for three days and nights, often I found I was the only one above ground, the noise of the motor drowning the mortars.

The Highland Division arrived on our right, their 5 am reveille was by bagpipes. The Germans did not like it and shelled us. As a reprisal we liberated a baby grand from a deserted chateaux, set it up near my dugout, had a good sing song. Next morning’s hate salvo hit the piano, every string broke, I thought it was the end of the world. Two days later our farmer came to me in tears. Soldiers with Rosettes on their hats had raped his wife and daughters, never heard if they were caught.

The final assault for Caen started on 8th July with all guns of 30 Corps firing. Then the RAF came in with 500 bombers, line astern straight through the flak. First wave took heavy casualties, then the ack ack died away. We were shouting and waving at them, then the dust and smoke rolled over us, like a London fog. We stood in disbelief. Next day we were at last able to bury the heroes of 8th and 9th Brigades, who had reached their objective on 6th June. A few days later we were out of the line for rest and refit. Americans were to attack from the south and wanted “their ball back” (our 105mm guns and ammo) We then started to close the “Falaise gap” fighting towards Vire. Germans in retreat had slaughtered the cattle and cut down orchards. I had not changed clothes for 10 days, it was Monday 7th August — Bank Holiday. Decided to have a proper wash and change, when the CO’s jeep arrived the forward observation post with 185 Brigade was off the air, grabbed tool kit but left jacket and dog tags behind. Loaded bren carrier with two transmitters and new crew, then set off at steady 3 mph (signs read dust means death) we were in full view of the Germans who held the high ground. Scores of vehicles ad been hit, including ambulances, arrived to find dead and wounded waiting for help that would not come. Got communications restarted then crept back to HQ, slept in pig stye.
Next morning same story, got new crew and transmitters and set off. After half and hour told diver we were on the wrong road. Looked at map and said we’ll turn at the next crossroads. Next moment I was in a field looking at the summer clouds, no noise, no pain, then all went dark. When I awoke a chap in air force unifoem was saying would I like jelly and custard. I was on an airfield in Oxfordshire, it was 12th August. Then they asked me who I was and sent a card to my wife, she had been informed that I was missing. Ambulance to St Agnes College, now a hospital for head wounds. When the surgeon finished digging bits of carrier out of me, said I was lucky to have such a thick scull ( I always knew that) On 17th August my wife visited me, it was our third wedding anniversary, I slept all day. Later I was told the carrier had gone over a mine, the other five were dead, every 8th August since I offer a silent prayer.

Most of the casualties were tank commanders. The chap in the next bed had not moved, then one night he shouted “I can’t talk” he slowly got his senses back. I was finally discharged as A1 and given six days leave. Also had to escort a blinded Scottish lad to Paddington, where his parents were waiting, we had to stand the whole way. I marvelled at the animals moving about the fields.

From October 44 to January 45 I moved around various camps finally at North walsham I leaned I was to rejoin 3rd Division, this time with a reconnaissance regiment (Northumberland Fusiliers) 6th January my wife evacuated from Queen Mary’s nursing home in Hampstead to Oxford. On 4th February got seven days embarkation leave 5th — 11th February. My son was born on 11th , saw him for one hour. Arrived outside Cleve on 16th, next day was beyond Goch at a Brewery, about 3 am on guard duty. A cellar trap door opened and an elderly Geman came out. He said “can we go home?”, the town two miles away was still blazing, but I said yes. Out came 30 people, old men, women and children. They had been there day and night not making a sound. I can still see them walking to their ruined town.

We then did a 50 mile recce to Munster for 17th US Airborne and 6th Guards Tank Brigade. Got to a village 2 miles from the town, then stopped by 88s and anti aircraft fire from a wood, we were down to 48 men. Retired to village and waited for the tanks. Sleeping in school house when the prisoners marched by, nearly 200. Set off towards Bremen, prisoners came thick and fast, each troop had bets on their numbers. Each village showed white flags, Burgermeisters were told to collect all radios for destruction. These sets could only get two stations, they had listened to lies for years. One prisoner we took showed me his leave pass and ration card. He was outside his home.

We overran a small concentration camp, Women came out of their huts, fell on their knees and kissed our boots. When we entered in gas masks and DDT sprays, refuse was waist high, bugs fell on our tin hats like rain. So much evil had been taught and perpetrated since 1933.

At a farm on the outskirts of Bremen a drunken Russian came to my workshop, poited at a pile of wood and said “Schnaps gud” , wandered off then returned with the same message. We removed the wood, underneath were a row of railway sleepers. The farmer said it was a little food for his family, when we looked it was full of loot from the conquered countries, wines, ham cheese etc. Next day was the feast of St Crispian, we all got drunk.

May 4th 1945 16.30 hours, we were stood down, our war was over. Each were given a slice of white bread. Took mine to a quiet corner, sat on a box and cried. Six lost years, school friends and comrades. Then a new war started, we had to protect the Germans against the displaced person, mostly poles and Russians. Stalin wanted all his people back, many had worked voluntarily for the Germans, we knew they would be killed. A train finally arrived but only about 100 were in camp.

Home leave Xmas 45, my son hid from a strange man. Mid March 46 my demob date was 1st April !! but regulars of 3rd recce were sent to Palestine, Jews and Arabs at each others throats. I found my way back to England.

When I retired the Company’s actury told me I had lost six years entitlement because I had not contributed to the pension fund between 1940/1946. I hope the present generation will remember us, whilst claiming compensation for “stress and harassment.”

George Arthur Desmond Thirlwell (7665581)

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