England
The day after our arrival in Longbridge Deverill was Sunday, so several of us went to the village church for the morning service. The church was a handsome stone building dating back to the thirteenth century and had been consecrated by Thomas à Becket. The pipe organ was hand pumped and nicely tuned. We enjoyed the Church of England service and noted the similarities between it and the Episcopal service.
A few days later, we were moved by trucks to nearby Tilshead, where there was a large armored center for the British army. Surrounding it were broad expanses of land suitable for field training and tank maneuvering in addition to repair and maintenance facilities for the tanks. A plus for us there was a movie theater and other recreation facilities. Shortly after moving to Tilshead, we received our new Sherman tanks, which had come to England on another ship in our convoy.
All of the tank weapons and their component parts were made of polished metal and came packed in wooden boxes. In order to keep them from rusting in the salty sea air, they had been coated with Cosmolene, a very oily wax material. The best way to remove Cosmolene was to dip the coated parts in boiling water until the material melted off. For days on end, we filled large metal drums with water, brought the water to a boil over a coal fire under the drum, and then immersed the coated parts in the boiling water. After the Cosmolene melted off, the part was dried, coated with light oil, and ready for installation in the tank. This process of getting the equipment ready for the entire tank took three weeks of tedious work. We had begun to assume that the rainy season was all the time, as we cleaned most of the Cosmolene off the weapons in the rain. Rain or shine, though, we carried out our normal activities.
During that period, we also gave each tank a name and stenciled it on both sides of the hull. Our tank was named Phikeia, meaning “chosen.” Lack of space inside the tank made it necessary for us to place some of our belongings elsewhere, so our mechanics welded half-inch steel rods around the outside of the turret. This gave us a place to hang our musette bags and sleeping bags. It was a very handy arrangement.
After getting our new tanks cleaned up and ready for action, we had about six weeks of maneuvers to learn their ins and outs. We found them to our liking when compared to the old models that we had at Camp Cooke. Because they were new, they were much cleaner than anything we had previously known. The hulls of these tanks were made of two-and-one-half-inch-thick steel plates welded together. This seemed like great protection until we saw the German tanks in action several months later.
The engine of the new Sherman was made by welding two Ford V-8 engines together. It was water cooled and generated 600 horsepower. Even though there was still a manual gear shift, it was easy to drive, as the gears were very well meshed. This tank took two gallons of gas to go one mile, just like the old ones at Camp Cooke, but this one was far more powerful. In the turret, a 75mm gun was the major firepower. Not having been in combat yet, we were not aware of the serious inadequacy of this gun.
In early October, Pat McCue and I were given passes to London. We left Tilshead at noon on a Thursday, and since it was the first time we had had to make our own travel arrangements, we were a bit confused with the train system. However, we did manage to catch the correct train and arrived in Paddington Station. There, we were advised to take the tube (subway) to go to the American Red Cross at Piccadilly Circus. We were impressed with the tube, as it was so much cleaner and nicer than the New York subways. In the lower depths of the tube stations, we saw rows and rows of people sleeping and realized that they were using this as their bomb shelter.
We found the American Red Cross in Piccadilly Circus, where we were assigned to Milestone House, a hotel some distance away. The best way to Milestone House was by bus, so we went back out into Piccadilly Circus, which was now in total darkness because of air-raid blackouts. Because of this, all vehicles traveling at night were required to use tiny white lights in the front and equally small red lights in the rear. They were very hard to see at street level, so they must have been extremely hard to see from the air. We boarded a bus which let us off at Milestone House, a nice hotel run for soldiers by the American Red Cross. There we found clean sheets and pillows on the beds. How nice it was to sleep on real bedding instead of in our sleeping bag on a straw mattress at Tilshead! Air-raid precautions were strictly adhered to, but even so, we were pleased that there was no air raid while we were there.
After breakfast the following morning, we took an early tour of London in order to learn where we were and how to get around. The destruction of buildings from German bombing was incredible, and yet we found the English people cheerful and pleasant. We saw many of the sights in London, including Westminster Abbey, Number 10 Downing Street (home of Prime Minister Winston Churchill), and the Victoria and Albert Museum. Inside St. Paul’s Cathedral, we were surprised to see one area roped off to keep people from getting near an unexploded bomb. We were fascinated with it all.
Later, we went to Harrod’s, the famous department store, to look around for possible Christmas gifts. I purchased a beautiful Royal Doulton cake plate for my mother. It was ivory-colored bone china with floral decorations in real gold. It cost six pounds. I knew it was expensive but had no idea how expensive, as we were still learning the English currency. There were twenty pennies to a shilling and twelve shillings to a pound. One pound was worth four dollars. Even though it was wartime, the store arranged to send it to her in a specially built wooden box and have it arrive in time for Christmas. She was ecstatic over the plate, which we have to this day and use on special occasions. After two days in London, we returned to our camp very pleased with our experiences and hoping to return.
By this time, we were having regular road marches with our new tanks and steadily becoming more familiar with them and their capabilities. We were also practicing simulated cross-country attacks.
A month after our first London visit, Patrick McCue and I again received passes to London. On the train, we discussed the possibility of going to Oxford sometime. At Paddington Station, we asked a guard when the next train would be leaving for Oxford. When he said that one was leaving in half an hour, we decided to get tickets and go. Arriving in Oxford in late afternoon, we went to the Red Cross, where we were assigned rooms at the Clarendon Hotel, which was modest, nice, and clean. After supper, we wandered out into the town. All of the colleges of Oxford University were within walking distance.
The following morning we took a walking tour of the city with an excellent guide from the English-Speaking Union, who knew Oxford in great detail. There had been no war damage in Oxford. During the tour, she mentioned that because of wartime restrictions, the annual Oxford-Cambridge rugby football match had to be moved away from a population center and would be held that afternoon in the Oxford University Stadium. We knew nothing about rugby, but we went and were able to pick up the sense of the game and enjoy ourselves. We were having such a good time that we decided not to go back to London but to return directly to camp from Oxford the following day.
Several weeks after arriving in England, our platoon sergeant, in whose tank I was the driver, became nasty and made life miserable for the entire platoon. I wanted to get out of his crew, but there seemed to be no way to accomplish that. He took a particular dislike for my buddy, Patrick McCue, and me. McCue was quick with his wit and, without meaning to, would say something that upset the sergeant, who would then become livid. Between the platoon sergeant and the ever-present rain we were constantly depressed.
The situation became so bad that I decided to take a chance and tell our company commander, Captain Ameno. The sense of desperation overcame my fear that I might get into trouble for doing such a thing. One Saturday night, I went over to the officer’s quarters, found Captain Ameno’s room, and knocked on the door. He answered, was very pleasant, and invited me in. I told him of the problems in our platoon and asked if there were a way that some of us could be moved to another platoon. He said that he had become aware of the problem, but because of our imminent move to the Continent thought it would not be wise to make changes so close to probable combat. He said that he would take care of matters at a later time. As ill fortune would have it, Captain Ameno was killed on our first day in battle when his tank was hit by a German antitank missile. The problem with the platoon sergeant took care of itself a little later.
After being declared ready for movement to the Continent, we left Tilshead, England, on December 17th in combat-ready vehicles. The rain was coming down in heavy sheets. When the tank was moving fast, twenty-five to thirty miles an hour, the tank driver had to raise his seat and sit with his head out of the hatch for adequate vision. There was no way to avoid getting drenched. The rain never let up as we drove eighteen tanks in convoy sixty miles to Weymouth on the English Channel.
Awaiting us there were five LSTs (landing ship tanks). These ships were specifically designed to load and unload tanks and other vehicles onto and from the beach. Each side of the V-shaped prow (pointed front of the ship) was hinged at its base. An electric motor controlled the sides of the prow and swung them outward. This created an opening from which a bridge dropped down to the beach. To load the LST, each tank backed from the beach onto this bridge and into the hold. The unloading process was the reverse.
We loaded our tanks on the LSTs and, before leaving port, spent two nights in the guest quarters sleeping on real beds. Compared to army life, that time with the navy was sheer luxury. We passed the time reading books and magazines. We even saw a couple of movies while on board. The food was excellent and the navy cooks seemed to bake fresh bread constantly. It was a nice respite from the army.
Probably our greatest find in England was fish and chips. The fish was fried codfish, and the chips were what we knew at home as French fries. They were two items that were not scarce, were inexpensive, and made a wonderful meal.
We were very impressed with the English people and how they had proved their mettle through the bombings and other wartime suffering.