• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 92 0

rear gunner, he was dead. The young blond pilot was being treated by the Battery Cook, Gunner Sherry, who had been discharged from the Army on grounds of Insanity, then invited to join up again on the same grounds. He held the pilot with a carving-knife. We were very short of meat. Before the RAF recovery unit arrived we knocked off anything moveable, including the dead German’s boots. The rear gunner’s Spandau was handed to Leather Suitcase who tried to raffle it: however, after discussions he decided to use it as an A.A. gun. He really was getting the hang of things. A pit was dug outside ‘Trevis’ (the officers’ billets). One morning, on the last stag (0:00 to 06:00) I heard a Dormer circling in low cloud. What a chance! I uncovered the Spandau. I could see the headlines again:

MILLIGAN DOWNS ANOTHER! KING TAKES BACK M.M. IN PART EXCHANGE FOR V.C.

A window opened. The lathered face of Leather Suitcase appeared.

“Milligan? What are you standing there for?”

“Everybody’s got to be somewhere sir.”

“What are you doing?”

“Going to have a crack at the Hun sir.”

“Don’t be a bloody fool, you’ll give our position away. Now cover up that gun before it gets spoilt.” As he spoke there was a lone explosion. The Dormer had dropped a bomb in Devonshire Square.

“You see what you’ve done,” he said, slamming the window.

He must have been worth two divisions to the Germans. It was going to be a long war. Churchill had a tough job on. It was thanks to him that we had any guns at all.

When the ‘14—‘18 War ended, Churchill said the 9.2s were to be dismantled, put in grease and stored in case of ‘future eventualities. There was one drawback. No Ammunition. This didn’t deter Leather Suitcase, he soon had all the gun crews shouting ‘BANG in unison. “Helps keep morale up,” he told visiting Alanbrooke. By luck a 9.2 shell was discovered in Woolwich Rotunda. An official application was made: in due course the shell arrived. A guard was mounted over it. The Mayor was invited to inspect it, the Mayoress was photographed alongside with a V for Victory sign; I don’t think she had the vaguest idea what it meant. A month later, application was made to H.Q. Southern Command to fire the shell. The date was set for July 2nd, 1940. The day prior, we went round Bexhill carrying placards.

THE NOISE YOU WILL HEAR TOMORROW AT MIDDAY WILL BE THAT OF BEXHILL’S OWN CANNON. DO NOT BE AFRAID.

Other men went round telling people to open their windows, otherwise the shock waves might break them. Even better, they were told, “Break the windows yourself and save the hanging about.” Dawn’. the great day! We were marched to a secret destination on the coast known only to us, and the enemy. Freezing, with a gathering fog, we all sat in the corner of a windy beach that was forever England. They told us, “Listen for the bang and look for the splash.” Before the visiting brass arrived the fog had obscured the view. The order now became Listen for the splash. Zero hour. Tension mounting. A Lance Bombardier was arrested for sneezing. A Jewish gunner fainted on religious grounds. Lieutenant Budden was stung by a bee; lashing out with his hand, he struck Captain Martin’s pipe, driving the stem down his throat, leaving just the bowl protruding from his lips and fumigating his nose. Disaster! Sergeant Dawson, A.I.↓ of Signals, reported the line to the gun position had got a break.

≡ Assistant Instructor.

Signallers Devine and White, who would do anything for a break, set off. In the haste to defend the Sceptered Isle, the South Coast was a mass of hurriedly-laid, unlabelled telephone lines, along walls, down drains, up men’s trouser legs, everywhere!

After thirty military minutes, the O.P. telephone buzzed. “Ah!” said Dawson hopefully, “O.P. here.”

“We haven’t found the break yet.”

“Right. Keep trying.”

The fog was now settling inland. Toy brass had finished the contents of their thermos flasks and withdrawn to the shelter of a deserted fisherman’s cottage. All was silent save the sound of frozen gunners singing the International. Every ten minutes for two hours,