My Life by Lionel Graves. (Page 12)
We did map reading and night exercises, crossing rivers in the dark. We climbed telegraph poles with crampon style things strapped to our boots. Then jumping out of moving trucks on to the road at about 15-20mph. You jumped facing the way you came from and tried to lean your body forward, the momentum pulling you upright, in theory. In practice, our whole line ended up flat on backs, helmets hitting the road with loud clunks. Being last it was slowing a bit and I was carrying the Bren cradled in my arms, my knees came up and the Bren cracked me under the chin and I was just another stranded turtle on its back.
Further, much later recollections.
Feb. 2005
When at Catterick after the liberation of Holland, we had some Dutch lads posted to us to get a basic military training. A sergeant, a sadistic pig of a man, really put them through it; with us it was alright because we could take it, but what made it worse was seeing in the showers one day the scars on one's back after being tortured by the Gestapo.
Another time a chap suddenly turned up out of the blue, he had been an officer cadet but was being R.T.U'd (returned to unit) for failing the course, He told me he had gone fishing in a river with a grenade to stun the fish and supplement the rations. Unfortunately round the next bend in the river his C.O. was fly fishing, his career as an officer and a gentleman was short and sweet, but then he might have been lying, still it makes a good story.
Long after demob, at Hallow I met a man, Harry Instan, a master carpenter who was a sergeant in the 8th Army and who worked with Jasper Maskelyn, the professional illusionist making stuff for dummy tanks and making tanks look like trucks. Once a General came to inspect, who was very keen on carpentry and spent an hour talking with Harry about mortice and tenon joints etc and nothing about what they were doing, it might have been Gott (On second thoughts Auchinlek might be a better bet) but I’m guessing. Unfortunately, Harry died many years ago. Another time either just before or after the bridge too far at Arnhem, someone came round the barrack rooms asking for volunteers for glider pilots, three stripe promotion straight away from trooper. There was a deathly hush and no one got trampled on in the rush to volunteer, the odds were bad enough in the Reconnaissance Corps let alone glider pilots!
We went to Warcop ranges and fired the 37mm guns and the heavy Besa machine guns in the armoured car, the tracers curling away looked magical. I managed to hit the targets 800yrds away but the next car unfortunately hit a sheep that was wandering over the range. The guns went off with such a crack that you were almost deafened in the open turrets. We fired more P1AT's anti-tank guns and also pistols where I won 2/6 (half a crown) in the troop competition.
Back in barracks our main entertainment were the NAAFI hut and the YMCA or the Sally Ann (Salvation Army, which was always the best for char and wads – tea and buns) We could get into Richmond at times for a drink, but we didn't imbibe too much, mainly because we had no money. Although I did go to Catterick races once and lost a week's pay having to write home for an immediate postal order to tide me over the next week.
Then came the trade tests which I managed to pass and became
14492516 Trooper Graves L.M., Driver/Operator Class 3, Reconnaissance Corps
(the 144 donates volunteers) wore an arm badge and entitled to 6d or 9d pay
rise a day.
Email: Lionel Graves (lionel@graf-tek.com).
Copyright ©2000-2008 L. Graves. All Rights Reserved.
