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8
A European Toehold

After withdrawing from Libya, the 22nd Battalion trained as a motorized unit as part of the 4th Armoured Brigade at base camp in Maadi for almost 12 months. In a letter to my mother dated December 29 1942 I wrote: “My latest job is training men in our base camp, as the Doctor said I would not be fit to go up the line for two months after I left the rest home, though my back seems to be quite all right now. Somehow I think I would rather be up having a go at Tripoli than sitting back here with not enough to do.” Then on February 20 1943 I wrote: “For the last three weeks I have been hard at it at a tactical armoured course in Palestine …. we are all rather disappointed at not being up in Tripoli with the rest of the boys as it was a goal we all had our eyes on.” Then on March 21 I wrote about a visit from my brother Graeme, now a squadron leader in the Royal Air Force at the age of 24, and of the parties we had together in Cairo.

My letter home on June 20 refers to my appointment to command the anti-tank company in the battalion with the temporary rank of major. We were enthusiastic about the new page 88 6 pounder guns and morale was high. We did as much live shooting as possible and each troop became highly competitive. I arranged with the 18th Armoured Regiment for them to stage an armoured attack on our prepared positions using blank ammunition; the official score at the end of the day was 10 tanks lost at the expense of two anti-tank guns. Their tactics with the tanks were improved too, as the exercise had been very realistic.

An amusing incident that occurred during training was described in our war history by author Jim Henderson.

“Part of the Battalion, together with some tanks, went on a manoeuvre into the desert. Anti-Tank Company, less one troop, was in an infantry role. That one troop, except for the NCOs, was composed of reinforcements whose anti-tank training was far from complete. What little experience they had was with six-pounders, but the powers that be decreed that, ‘for the purpose of the exercise’, two-pounders would be used.

“The portées raced into the field. ‘Action!’ Ramps - handspike - wheels - winch - and, by the grace of God, the guns were on the ground and soon dug in. The No. 4s put the Benghazi burners on for tea. Whistles blew, flags waved and the manoeuvre ended. The signal to form convoy was given — easy enough for the infantry but not quite so simple for a gun commander with a green crew and a two-pounder on the ground. A first attempt resulted in a jammed hand. Just then the water boiled and the gun commander naturally called for a mug of tea.

“This lack of activity seemed to displease some of the higher-ups and a Jeep was despatched to page 89 enquire into the matter. The enquiring sergeant, satisfied that all would be well in a few minutes, rejoined the convoy. The tea was disposed of and the crew went back to the loading just as a second Jeep, this time with an officer, called to enquire after the well being of the troops. The loading went on apace and eventually the last portée joined the convoy amid glowering glances from certain officers. Whistles blew, flags waved again and, in column of route, the convoy cleared the battle ground.

“Next day, on Company Parade, Captain Donald ‘discussed’ the events of the previous day. ‘One gun crew took a long time to rejoin the convoy. Is the Gun Commander here?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘What was the cause of the delay?’

“Now, I could have told him about the jammed hand and the green crew but I knew that officers liked to observe events through binoculars. I knew that the binoculars — several pairs of them — would have picked out the tea making and tea drinking and I pictured myself making excuses, floundering through explanations — on Company Parade too — so I took a deep breath and said, ‘We were just ready to load the gun when the billy boiled so we had a mug of tea.’

“Never before, nor since, have I seen Haddon Donald at a loss for words. I strongly suspected that I had stolen his thunder. ‘My God! My God! The Brigadier, the Colonel, tanks, trucks, guns all waiting and you — you made a mug of tea.

‘Don't ever do it again. Don't ever do it again!’

“The quiet chuckle that stirred the ranks didn't page 90 help the good captain either and, if he ever sees this story, I hope he forgives me but, secretly, I think he enjoyed these little events which indicated to me what I believe to be the way Haddon would have his NCOs act. I don't think he liked commanding ‘Yes men’ and, when I reflect on the NCOs who served under him, I feel that was how he had ‘brought them up’ — independent thinkers, yes, but great NCOs. On the surface, ‘Maaleesh’ experts but always on the job.

“A few minutes' reflection must engender a great respect for the man who selected many of them and who trained many of them — and above all, the man who controlled them.”

In our spare time, we made good use of the Maadi Club where the squash courts and the swimming pool were in great demand. The occasional weekend was spent in Cairo but life in the Officer's Mess was pleasant under Lieut. Colonel Tom Campbell who, as one of our original officers, was tolerant of our escapades. Some of us formed a poker school and, while the stakes were not high, we played so often IOUs had to be used by some of the more rash players whose pay books were constantly empty. I had accumulated quite a pocketful of these flimsy pieces of paper and most of the school owed me money until one night I returned from a party in Cairo and the school was still in action in the Mess. It was well after midnight and I was ready for bed but they demanded that I should join them and, being so much in credit, I could hardly refuse. They were playing ‘Slippery Sam’ — a lethal game which was new to me — and, not being very alert at that late hour, I became their victim. In very quick time, they recovered all their IOUs which gave me an excuse to retire. Later my credit started to grow again. When time for action came, debts were forgotten, but the good times page 91 we had together will always be remembered.

There was little social life with the local Egyptians and we seemed to be content with our own company. In the six years I spent in the Army, I did not hear of one case of homosexuality and I do not believe it would have been condoned among the troops. The Officer's Mess, with nearly 40 members, was a very happy club.

After the enemy was finally and decisively beaten in North Africa, the division, having covered itself with glory in Tunisia, returned to Maadi to join up with the 4th Armoured Brigade. At last we were together again, completely mobile and with our own tanks we could rely on. After a period of consolidation and our numbers, having been built up with reinforcements, we had become a very formidable fighting force, well equipped and prepared for desert warfare. But we were heading for Italy and conditions would be different there.

Ironically, our fully motorized division started out for Italy with a 100 mile route march from Cairo to the Mediterranean coast. The march was carried out at night because the heat was too severe during the day. In normal style, we marched for 50 minutes followed by a 10 minute break with a short stopover at the half way mark each night for a very welcome mug of hot cocoa. After each 10 minute break, our muscles would be sore and our feet ache, but then someone would burst into song and we would all join in. Our pipe band gave us a wonderful boost playing almost continuously for the seven nights of monotonous marching.

It was a gruelling time. Only the 22nd Battalion completed the march fully and with far fewer casualties than any other unit, and 4th Anti-Tank Company put up the best performance in the battalion. My practice was to start the march at the head of the company and then to fall back to the rear where I could keep on eye on anyone who needed help. If anyone was really suffering, I would carry his pack for a spell and the effect was almost immediate — the spring would come back into the soldier's page 92 step and, before long, he would ask for his pack back again. We were congratulated by Brigadier Inglis who had checked up on the other units and found that 4th Brigade had finished with the best record in the division.

We embarked from Alexandria on October 20 1943 and, as temporary second in command of the battalion, I was put in charge of one third of our troops aboard the troopship Niew Holland. We were split up because of possible submarine attack but we landed at Taranto in the heel of Italy without incident. Italy was a new experience and, from now on, my map case and the battle orders it contained became more important to me than my Tommy gun.