My Life by Lionel Graves. (Page 10)
Our training intensified and we were introduced to many different types of weapons which had to fire. Bren guns, tommy guns (like Al Capone and the American gangsters) Sten guns, pistols. P1AT anti tank guns which fired a rocket type shell and the recoil made me slide back about six inches on the ground, Mills hand grenades, someone threw one a bit short and the shrapnel flew over our heads in the trench. Three inch mortars which fired quite a large shell one of my fellow trainees was stopped by the corporal as he was going to slide the shell into the mortar barrel nose first, “Don't do that sonny, I’ve got a wife and two children at home!” If it had dropped nose first it would have detonated and blown us to kingdom come. Gas tests where we had to go into a room filled with gas, then take our masks off. I thought I would be clever and tie a boot lace and be under the layer of gas but it had already settled and I probably made it worse at any rate we all came out coughing and retching.
Even more that the weapons was the learning to drive Bedford, 15 cwt trucks at first, all requiring double de-clutching, bren gun carriers which I missed through having flu. Humber armoured cars and most fun of all motor bikes. I had never driven one before but it was a case of half an hours instruction, clutch, throttle, gears, brakes and we were off and up and down the road, but inside the camp, fall off a few times then out on the main road road and on to the cross country course near Devil's Elbow. Up and down hills, taught how to fall off properly this time, turn handlebars hard right and fling yourself off to the left. Once I found myself running out of control down a hill, gathering speed and hit a tree, flying off saddle and gripping tightly to the trunk like an orangutang. It only lasted three days.
Then there was the engine maintenance on the vehicles and the gunnery side, learning about the 37mm or 2lb gun and its ammunition but not actually firing it. The wireless was the other major item. 38 sets which were large and carried on your back back and 19 sets which were in the armored cars and 15 sets for exercises and schemes. One was going down in the trucks to a Naval Station at Havant and having to keep in radio touch all the way there. At Havant we saw the young sailors climbing a tall mast and balancing on the yardarms with the button man on the very top – very scary. We often picked up real messages from Normandy.
We did some of our driving through Windsor and there were stories going around about some seeing Princess Elizabeth (now Queen) who was doing her training at the same time, apocryphal of course.
Weekend leave was also given for the 24/36 or 48hrs and we were very handy for London. We stayed at the RAC Club, Grosvenor Square (later to become the American Embassy for 2/6 (12p or half a crown) a night. I think we were getting about £1 a week. In the distance we could hear bangs and crumps and explosions because this was the time of the V1, V2 rockets being dropped by the Germans, but nothing fell in the West End.
The night Fred Large, Johnny Drew, self and a couple of others were having a quiet drink when a drunken American GI with a young lady in tow came over and started praising us, the Recce, for helping them out in the Ardennes; it was a bit embarrassing because we hadn't yet got our knees brown and not yet seen active service, but we were very nonchalant, or cool as they say today, about it.
It was a cold, snowy winter that Christmas and some of our guards were looking after empty married quarter houses in Farnham, huddled in great coats in front of a tiny fire. On Christmas Eve I was guarding the gate on the main road through the camp and the Aircraft Research Establishment next door and had been ordered to challenge and stop anyone using it. The drill was to say “Halt. Who goes there?” twice and if no reply a last warning, “Halt or I fire”. Then bang! About midnight a crowd of civilian workers from the Research came along having obviously been to a very merry party. I challenged properly and loudly and on getting the response “Father Christmas”, decided to let them through without more ado.
One nice touch about the camp was that they had boy buglers who used to ride round to strategic places and then blow the Last Post on Lights Out and Reveille in the morning, it always sounded touching to me. In barracks we had kit inspections daily and especially on Saturdays when we couldn't light the stoves Friday night as they had to be blackleaded for the room inspection. Table tops scrubbed white and the floor boards spotless.
Email: Lionel Graves (lionel@graf-tek.com).
Copyright ©2000-2008 L. Graves. All Rights Reserved.
