We spent three nights and two days in the town of Douai after which together with “B” battery we had moved out to our present position. We were now dug in, on the edge of a small wood, just outside the town of Marquion, overlooking the main road to Douai.
All of our guns were spread out, just inside the edge of the wood, our trucks were parked more securely further inside. There was about twenty or thirty yards between each gun, depending on the fall of the terrain and behind each gun all of the crews had dug out shelters of various sorts and dimensions. We had dropped lucky in this respect, as right behind our gun position was a natural crater about five feet deep, twelve foot in length and seven foot across. We had found some substantial lengths of fallen trees inside the wood and had used these to build a roof over approximately eight foot of the hole, we’d then used smaller twigs and branches to form a sort of thatch, and finally we pilled about two foot of good Belgian soil over all of it. We had even found a length of abandoned old cast iron drainpipe that we had incorporated as a chimney, enabling us to use the stove in there. As a finishing touch, we had covered the open end with a tarpaulin, making the whole thing very snug.
Things were very quiet here so the main use for the shelter had been as our sleeping quarters but nonetheless we were quite proud of it and it had attracted quite a few comments, most of which were derisory but we laughed them off in our cosy hide.
Even though we could often hear shellfire and at night see the flashes from explosions, we were unaffected. Life in the few days we had been here had been generally pleasant enough, reminding me at times of the scout camps I’d enjoyed only a few years before.
The spring weather was typical, with some wet mornings giving way to some warm afternoons. We had eaten well, thanks to supplementing the Army diet with local fare, bartered for usually in exchange for cigarettes but best of all we were in a routine. Soldiers liked routines, you knew where you were with routines; surprises you could keep them.
So you might understand that we were not over happy when, just before the time for inspection, we saw Lieutenant Davies and two other Lieutenants from the other battery, pile into the Captain’s Austin 10 staff car and head off down the road towards Douai. For us this could mean an inspection by a Lieutenant from another troop or worse, by one from another battery who would definitely be out to gain points at our expense.
In fact no such inspection took place; Jock Scott was called over to the command tent and returned to tell us to stand down until told otherwise. It was a fine day but we were obviously not allowed to, nor were we inclined to leave the cover of the trees, all our exploring so far had been carried out after dark.
So we took the opportunity to do those little jobs, like washing socks, writing home, getting a haircut or maybe just taking a nap.
The day was starting to cool down and dusk was fast approaching when our officers returned. The remaining officers who hadn’t been on the trip were called to the command tent where they remained for half an hour or so eventually coming out and returning to their troops. Lieutenant Davies gathered our entire troop together in a small clearing, just behind the C crew gun. Our troop was now down to C, B and D crews since last weeks incident.
“Ok chaps this is what’s happening” said the Lieutenant, he had a cigarette in one hand and a broken branch in the other. Using the stick, he drew an oval in the dirt with a curved line next to it.
“This is our wood and this is the road from Douai to Arras. At around lunch time tomorrow tanks of the guard’s armoured brigade and infantry support will be making a push towards Arras,” he moved the stick to show the direction.
“They will be coming right through our lines; our job is to be ready to move up to support them, or to cover their retreat if things don’t go well. We are in a good position here to do either, so it looks as if we are going to see some action at last. You’ll be seeing plenty of me I’ll be at your side with one or other crew whatever happens, so good luck to you all. Unless there are any questions I suggest you make the most of your free time I’m betting things are going to get pretty busy.”
“Can I ask a question sir?” said Fishy.
“Of course Gunner Thomas, ask away.” replied Lieutenant Davies.
“Well sir, how many tanks are going and just what’s at this Arras place, is that where the Germans are?”
“Good questions. Ok, we expect about eighty tanks and as many as three infantry battalions, so this road’s going to get pretty, bloody, busy. I wouldn’t be surprised to see some movement start tonight, perhaps to a mid-point between here and Arras. This, by the way, is only about fifteen kilometres away from where we are now. To answer the second part of your question, what’s at Arras? It is basically the Jerry spearhead, consisting of several Panzer brigades, a fair bit of infantry and we’re told several parachute brigades, so in short, a formidable enemy. Our job is to drive them back, or at the very least stop them coming any nearer. Ok if that’s all chaps, carry on and I’ll see you later.”
With that he walked back towards the command tent.
Extra guards were posted due to the enemies close proximity but fortunately our crew were not involved. So heeding the Lieutenant’s warning, we made the most of our free time. Thinking we may be awakened early by the infantry divisions passing through we decided to make an early night of it and around about 21.30 hours we got settled down for the night in our dugout.
It turned out the Lieutenant had been wrong, nothing disturbed us until at 06.30am, Harry decided to answer a call of nature, which as we were all so tightly packed caused most of us to wake up.
An hour later we were all washed shaved and dressed and we had tinned bacon sizzling away on the stove and the water on for a brew.
Nothing much happened then until about 11.30 when the first of the infantry divisions began to appear.
Marching down the road and whistling Tipperary they were not, this was modern warfare and these blokes were being ferried at speed by the RAOC in their Bedford QL three tonners.
The procession seemed never ending and the noise increased as empty trucks started to come back in the opposite direction on the way to pick up their next load of passengers. This was a big operation, three thousand men needed to be moved quickly to where they were most needed.
This movement was continual but started to slow down in its intensity after about an hour or so. Then we heard another even more unfamiliar sound as the tanks came down the road. They were led by half a dozen cruisers, followed by the rest which were the more common lightweights, all speeding down the road towards Arras.
We watched them go through, with more than a tinge of pride. This must give Jerry a bloody nose, this should stop him, we thought, waving to the tank Commanders as they stood smartly in their turrets.
Just before 14.00, the road had become quiet again, we waited expectantly for some sign that the battle had started. Then off over to our right, we heard the sound of our own 25 pounders, as our field guns opened up with a barrage. They were too far away for us to be able to see any muzzle-flashes, but it sounded good to us on this fine, spring afternoon. Occasionally we heard sharper cracks, which we guessed were made by smaller calibre guns, probably from the tanks. We could also see different coloured very lights which I guessed were telling the infantry troops to move backwards or forwards, or both? Really we hadn’t got a clue what was going on and judging by the activity outside the Command tent, neither had our officers, who were pacing up and down, occasionally lifting their field glasses in the general direction of Arras.
At about 16.00 we started to see the return of some of the Bedford three tonners, only now they had Red Cross tarpaulins tied to the roof, they were taking the wounded back. We could see some of the wounded looking tired and dirty, partially bandaged, sitting dejectedly on the back of the trucks. I figured they must be the lucky ones; the more serious cases would be lying down hidden from our view.
We were told to stay within the tree line, and the wisdom of this became obvious because as the day wore on, more and more German aircraft were to be seen overhead. Now some ME 109’s had joined the better known Stuka’s. Some were very low and it was very tempting to have a go with one of the MG’s but we were warned against trying this, as the odds of hitting one didn’t justify the possibility of giving away our position.
As the day wore on, what few sounds of the battle we had heard got more and more distant, until in the end, the only reminder we had of what was going on was the steady stream of Bedford’s going up and down the road taking ammunition to the battle and bringing back the wounded.
I think we were all feeling a bit helpless and I suppose even guilty, everything was going on just out of reach. Surely somebody must need our help? After all we had trained for shooting tanks but no movement order came.
I told Fishy, ‘Ronny’ and Harry to get their heads down at about 23.00, with the intention that Jack and myself would keep watch until 03.00 and then Fishy and Harry could take over from us. ‘Ronny’ could have until 06.00 because if we were to move out tomorrow he could do the first part of the driving.
All the crew were up and about again by 08.00 and after breakfast we wandered around talking to other members of the troop. The rumour was that our tanks had driven Jerry back almost 10 miles before they’d had to withdraw following vicious attacks by Stuka’s. The Infantry had done well too, following up the work of the tanks before they had to withdraw to find cover from the onslaught of the bombs.
As the morning wore on, the main road became busy again as columns of Bedford’s thundered up and down bringing back the infantry lads, we asked if we could go and give them a wave but were told to remain in cover.
Once again we saw Captain Roberts and the same three Lieutenants head off for Douai at around 09.30.
Sometime later we saw some of the tanks coming back but we counted only about thirty, we guessed that more than half of them must have been lost in action, although a proportion would have just broken down so perhaps we hadn’t done too badly.
The officers returned in the afternoon and Captain Roberts wasted no time in getting us all together for a briefing. It seemed that the rumours were true, our lads had actually won the battle and had pushed Jerry back, but let down by the lack of effective air cover, we had had no defence against attacks by the Stuka’s and had no choice but to withdraw.
We were to get packed up again and once the road was clear of the tanks and infantry we were to withdraw to a town called Carvin, about ten miles north of our present position and about five miles south of Lille.
We set off for Carvin just before 18.00 hours and our convoy became part of an obviously much bigger movement of troops MP’s were at all of the junctions stopping us, checking orders and redirecting us. There were troops and equipment of just about every type, either driving down the roads or parked up at the side, for once overhead hurricanes circled in a protective manner.
We arrived at our new position just before 20.00 and again found ourselves positioned just inside yet another wood. We had found a Naffi van earlier so we had managed to get something to eat whilst we had been waiting for direction. The main plan now was to set up the gun and once again to get dug in.
This time our dug out was nowhere near as well prepared as our previous one, but again we had managed to make some use of a dip in the natural terrain. It was quite dark by now and I told the lads that we would try to find some roofing materials tomorrow. For now we managed to get a tarpaulin slung over the top and held it down with rocks and branches.
If the rain started again, at least we would have somewhere fairly dry to sleep.
I quickly worked out the guard rota and then there was time for a brew and a fag before we turned in. As we sat around with our tea and Player’s Navy Cut it was obvious from the subdued atmosphere, despite the fact that we were now in the company of more members of the BEF than we had seen since we had first arrived in France. Whatever the reason, suddenly we were all very uneasy about our present position.
The next morning there was still a lot going on. Our position, again at a crossroads, allowed us a grandstand view of the proceedings. The RAOC were heading in all directions, ferrying men and equipment, backwards and forwards, interspersed with these were a few light and medium tanks. We watched with interest as several companies of Field Artillery drove through, we wondered where they were going to be positioned.
There were so many British soldiers around that staying inside the wood would not increase our security, so I sent Jack and Ronny off on a foraging mission and told Harry and Fishy to go and see if they could find some roofing for our dug out.
I stayed by the gun in case the Lieutenant wanted us for anything, I was actually taking a bit of a risk sending all the lads off but everyone seemed so busy running around and getting sorted out, that I thought we would be forgotten about for a while.
Fishy and Harry were back after only about ten minutes, carrying two pieces of corrugated iron.
“There’s tons more of this just in the wood where we parked the trucks.” said Harry.
“It’s a bit rusty but if we go back for another couple we’ll have enough for a roof.”
“Go on then,” I said “I’ll get a brew on for when you get back.”
When we’d had the tea we set about roofing over our dug-out. The sheets were big enough to span the hole and once we had done that we once again piled a few feet of earth on the top. Now that we had the basics of a shelter again, we felt happier.
Ronny and Jack came back empty-handed. It seemed there were items for sale but the increased amount of soldiers about, had inflated the price of even the most basic commodities like eggs and milk so the lads had decided not to pay the going rate. It looked as if it was going to be bully beef and hard tack for a while at least.
In the afternoon Lieutenant Davies came over to us and stayed and had a brew with us during which time he explained that our job was going to be to keep open the lines of communications to the coast. Fishy put his hand up and the Lieutenant gave him permission to speak. “Sir seems to me we are going back now the way we came. Are we losing sir, because if we are, how come, cus we ain’t fired a shot in anger yet?”
Lieutenant Davies looked at us all and seemed to weigh up his words before speaking, “I’m afraid I can’t argue with Gunner Thomas, we are getting a lot nearer to the coast again but I have feeling that before so very long you’ll be firing your guns in anger, more than that I can’t say and that’s because I don’t know anymore.”
With that he stood up and turned to walk away.
“That’s all chaps, from now on stay on full alert.”
The stream of vehicles passing up and down the road continued through the day, slowed down now by an ever increasing number of civilians with their belongings, all heading for the coast. I don’t think I’d ever seen such variety, in the forms of transport used. There were people walking, carrying suitcases and bags. Perambulators were very popular, loaded with everything other than babies, handcarts being both pushed and pulled, cars, vans and buses, horses and carts, ponies and traps. Probably, most incongruous of all, an old Citroen Butchers van, loaded to the gunnels and being pulled by a horse driven by an old bloke sitting on top of the cab roof. Perhaps though the most worrying aspect of this procession was the number of dishevelled, dejected looking French soldiers who had swelled its ranks.
Military Police and Belgian Civil Police drove up and down, doing their best to keep the traffic flowing, but there was no doubt, chaos was starting to take hold.
We had got hold of some Spam and were enjoying this spectacle whilst eating our Spam fritters with the usual brew up, when the stillness of the evening was shattered by a terrible wailing and roaring. All around us columns of earth shot up into the air on both sides of the road. In stunned silence we watched as the refugees fled for the cover of the trees. The sky went dark and the banshee wailing increased. Looking up, we could see the cause, as the Stuka’s swooped down following up their attack. There were five in total; the two who had already released their bombs were climbing back skyward, while their three mates came down in close formation, their sirens making a terrifying roar.
Suddenly what was going on around us went home. I threw down my sandwich and shouted to the lads “man the gun!” Ronny had the angles worked out before I’d finished speaking and on his instruction Jack had the gun elevated to a line the planes would have to pass as they started their climb back.
“Ready!” shouted Fishy as he stepped back from loading the gun.
“Fire when ready!” I shouted back to Ronny.
There was the usual muffled boof that you get with this type of gun; I watched it recoil as the whole process was started again. We could get off fifteen rounds in a minute but with a swiftly moving target like the Stuka’s accuracy and timing were the requirements not speed; similarly there would be no point in putting in tracer shells as the aeroplane would be long gone by the time we saw where we were.
We fired a total of thirty shells after the Stuka’s, and I was fairly sure we had hit the fourth of them although it continued on its way seemingly unharmed. However, I think that our shots and similar ones from other guns in the battery did probably deter them from coming back to use their machine guns on the civilians. The downside was now they knew where we were.
People started to climb back out of the ditches and cover, where they had sought shelter. Now that the planes had gone they began to attend to the dead and wounded. I think we would have all liked to have gone across and helped but the Lieutenant shouted over to us to tell us to remain with the gun.
Eventually all of the casualties had been dealt with, and as darkness fell, the refugees continued their slow trek down the road towards the coast.
I was last up the next morning, after sharing the last guard duty with Fishy from 02.00 until 06.00.
It was 10.30 and as I drank my tea I noticed that on the road there were fewer refugees but more army vehicles, including quite a lot of French.
I also noticed that some of the other units that had been in positions close by us had gone. Presumably, at some time after 06.00 because they were still there when I went to bed. I saw Lieutenant Davies heading towards us and I expected he was coming to tell us to get packed up.
I was wrong, what he did come to tell us was that, with the exception of our battery, all of the rest were withdrawing to a line nearer to the coast, we had been chosen to cover the retreat. Once he had given us a rough outline he walked off to one of the other crews, leaving us free to talk.
“Blimey Bomb! They are leaving us in the shit.” said Jack Hampton, trying to sound tough but I could see his bottom lip trembling as he spoke.
I didn’t answer straight away, probably because my thoughts were pretty much the same as Jack’s.
I looked around at the faces of the rest of my crew, all of them looked worried.
“Ok,” I said at last, “the Lieutenant isn’t asking us to be hero’s, he’s just telling us it’s time to do what we signed up for, and if we are going to get out of this, that’s all we have to remember, we’re here to do a job.”
“Nobody said we’d be doing it on our own though Bomb, did they?” cut in Fishy.
“Take a look around Fishy, we’re not on our own, all the crews are here.” “What are you saying then? That Jerry’s better at this than we are, eh? Better than the pride of the flippin Royal Artillery” Fishy looked down at his feet but the others chuckled,
“I’ll second that.” said Harry.
“Rather,” said Ronny “bring em on!” to which we all laughed, even Fishy.
I sent a couple of the lads over to get some extra armour piercing shells and then we waited.