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main seaborne attack, and some of them had come down in the sea. It was dark when we came near the coastline, and we could hear the troops shouting for help, but the landing craft just carried on to the beach head. I heard later that the glider pilots had taken evasive action to avoid all the flak being shot up at them, got lost, and came down in the sea. The pilots who survived were returned to America and court-martialled.
Our particular part of the beachhead was very quiet and there was not a soul in sight, much to our great relief. We had landed at H-4, meaning four hours before the main assault, and the LRDG troops had to march inland to create a wide safe beachhead, in which the main force with armaments and stores could be landed. It started to get light, and we started to encounter opposition. The captain gave us a position to transmit to the ship, but to our horror the shells landed behind us. We quickly sent them a signal to stop shooting, and the captain rechecked his figures, and said they were correct, but for safety’s sake he added a few hundred yards on, and when the ship started firing again the shells roared over our heads towards the enemy. The captain said that we were shooting at a concentration of troops and transports which appeared to be Italian. When the ranging shots came close to the target the captain ordered us to send a message to the ship to fire broadsides, which it did. The devastation that this caused was too much for the Italians, and they surrendered in large numbers. We marched a lot of them to a prisoner of war camp, which had been put up near the landing point, and some of them kindly offered to carry my wireless set. One of the Italian soldiers told a British soldier guarding them that the safety catch was fastened on his rifle, and it would slow him down in firing if he tried to escape. They all thought it was a great joke. A lot of the Italians could speak English with an American accent, as they had been to the States, got some money, and then returned home. They were glad to be taken prisoner. It was a rural area, and the housing left a lot to be desired. They were two- story, but their animals were kept on the ground floor and the family lived above. There was no running water, which was drawn, as required, from wells. All bodily functions were done in the vineyards, which no doubt helped the crops.
After some days encampment we were told to get kitted up again for some more action further up the coast. We boarded a ship called the ULSTER MONARCH and headed for the town of Augusta. This town should have been taken by the Durham Light Infantry, but they had met fierce opposition and had been pushed out again by German troops. When we got into Augusta harbour, all hell was let loose, and we were subjected to heavy gunfire from the roof tops of the houses on the occupied side of the harbour. The boat couldn’t stop but moved slowly backwards and forwards, firing at shore targets. We scrambled down the nets on the quiet side of the ship on to a landing craft, getting protection from the ship. The
landing craft couldn’t go all the way into the beach, as there were a lot of slippery looking rocks sticking out of the water. I took the wireless set off my back and carried it in my hands, as I didn’t fancy being weighed down by it if I slipped into the water. I did slip into the water but was able to place the wireless on a rock above water level as I went down. Several of the lads nearby were picked off by snipers’ bullets and I did not see them again. On landing on the shore, we were mustered together, and then the soldiers started fighting their way around the town from house to house. My wireless was set up on the flat roof of a house and progress messages sent to the ship. Opposition was a lot stiffer than previously, as in this engagement we were fighting Germans. Admiral Troubridge, who was in charge of the operation and on board the ULSTER MONARCH, congratulated the troops on their success in capturing the town of Augusta. We returned to the ship, and shortly we found to our dismay that we were sailing back towards North Africa.
HMS Ulster Monarch
The Germans were driven out of Sicily by the combined forces of the British, American and Canadian troops by the 7 Aug 43. We disembarked at Sousse, a port on the North African coast, which was very much shattered by the recent fighting. On the way into the port, there were ships’ hulks sticking out of the water, and the harbour installations appeared to have been devastated. There were teams of Naval craftsmen working on repairing the damage, and it must have been a hot and sweaty job as the sun was blazing down. We were billeted in a ruin of a house, the roof of which was open in parts, and there was no furniture about the place at all. We each picked ourselves a corner in a room in which we dumped all our equipment and, at night, wrapped up in a blanket and laying on the beautifully tiled floor, we admired the heavenly constellations and thought of home. We got a lot of mail sent to us at the time, which had been building up in North Africa while we were in Sicily. Amongst letters from my mother and Helen, there was also a gift parcel from the WVS. Inside there were socks, and a recorder that was much appreciated. I was able to squat in my corner and tootle on the recorder, rather quietly in case any of the local snakes accepted it as an invitation to come into the house. For many years afterwards I astounded my family with my rendition of “You are my
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