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By Root 78 0

from the station. My mother and father were not given to drinking in pubs, so after dinner I went into the Bell, which stood at the crossroads near our house. Of course this was the day of the raid on Dieppe and its heroic failure. It was in the papers and on the radio. Some of the Battery trucks had been commandeered to pick up some of the survivors at Peacehaven. Lance Bombardier Lees drove one truck and told me of seeing the survivors come home. They were all silent, their faces painted black; they came ashore with hardly a word said; some of the badly wounded had died on the way back. What can anyone say? Anyhow, that evening when I walked into the pub with my hand all in new white bandages I was on to free drinks for the night. An elderly, dignified man came across and said to me, “Would you care to have a drink with me and my friends?” I said ‘Yes’, and, seeing it was free, I had a Scotch. After a few words of conversation the elderly man said, “What was it like, son’?”

“What was what like?” I said.

“Oh come on son. No need to be modest.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what you mean.”

The elderly man winked at his friends and nodded approvingly towards me. Then it hit me. Dieppe. Had I been to Dieppe? If I said no, the chance of a lifetime to drink free all night would be thrown away. Yes. I had been to Dieppe, a whisky please, yes, we went in and, Cheers, I was in the last wave, another whisky please, anyhow I crawled towards this pill-box, a brandy then, and…

That night my mother put me to bed; for two hours I had been a hero, something I had never been before and would never be again.

DETENTION

October 1942. We were alerted for a practice shoot at Sennybridge Camp in Wales. Burdened down with kit, I decided to hide my rifle in the rafters of the hay-loft. “That’s a good idea,” said patriotic Edgington. The short of it was several other patriots did the same. And it came to pass, that after we had gone thence, there cometh a Quarter Bloke, and in the goodness of his heart he did inspect ye hay-loft, and woe, he findeth rifles, and was sore distressed, whereupon he reporteth us to the Major, who on Sept. 14th, 1942, gaveth us fourteen bloody days detention. For some reason all the other ‘criminals’ were sent to our R.H.Q. at Cuckfield, but I was sent to Preston Barracks, Brighton, alone, no escort, Ahhhh, they trusted me. At Brighton station, I tried to thumb a lift; I got one from an A.T.S. girl driving a General’s Staff car. She dropped me right outside Preston Barracks. As the car stopped, the sentry came to attention, then I got out. I reported to the sergeant I/C Guardroom. “Welcome to Preston Barracks,” he said.

“You’re welcome to it too,” I replied.

“Now,” he said, “from now on you keep your mouth shut and your bowels open.”

Then he gave me a cup of tea that did both. He stripped me of all kit, leaving essentials like my body. The cell, my God! it must have been built in anticipation of Houdini. Seven foot by six foot, by twenty foot high, stone floor, small window with one iron bar, up near the ceiling, wooden bed in the corner. The door was solid iron, two inches thick, with a small spy-hole for the guard. No light. “You go to sleep when it gets dark, like all the good little birdies do,” said the sergeant. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, slamming the cell door. Every day, a visit from the orderly officer, a white consumptive lad who appeared to be training for death. “Cot everything you want’ ?” he said. “No, sir, I haven’t got a Bentley.” I grinned to let him know it was a joke, that I was a cheery soul, and not down hearted. It wasn’t the way he saw it. He pointed to a photo of my girl by my bed. “That will have to go,” he said.

“Yes sir, where would you like it to go? I think it would go nice on the piano.”

“Put it out of sight.”

“But it’s my fiancée sir.”

“Photographs are not allowed.” He was starting to dribble. “What about statues sir?”

He lost his English ‘cool’. “Sergeant put this man under arrest.”

“He’s already under arrest sir,” said Sarge.

“Well give him extra fatigues for