Richard H. Durrell

Fort Dix, N. J.

         One Tuesday morning, August 9^th 1942 to be exact, we left our old home in Fort Belvoir, VA for good or at least for a long time. For most of us, it was our first experience with troop travel – the packs looked like a tobacco drying barn – packs hanging from everywhere and rifles and duffle bags crowded in between. That afternoon we arrived in Fort Dix after an uneventful trip. To our surprise, the train made good time and at one junction we thought we were heading for Atlantic City – but no, we took another spur. We can well remember a milkman, who probably experiencing his first troops leaving for overseas gave us all his milk and orange juice and would not take any money – just one of many advantages of being among the first.

         Upon arrival at Dix, we were herded into our tent city, which was to be our home for a few weeks. As was the custom with our company, we were spread out in all directions that first night, New York, Washington, Harrisburg, and Philadelphia. The latter was my destination the first time and for many nights thereafter – by the thumb method which was by far the quickest, or the bus, which was crowded and had a slow schedule. Many of the fellows had close calls making the trains in Trenton. The sight of Pat Barella running down the steps at the Trenton depot as the Congressional was pulling out waving his hands and shouting at the top of his lungs "Hold that train, my mother got some spaghetti on in New York". Many fellows just made reveille in the morning.

While at Dix, my activities were mostly confined to the Orderly Room where I helped out Woody and Sgt. Orr with records, etc., in preparation for going overseas. And lucky it was for me as the fellows had long marches and obstacle courses to run – neither of which has ever appealed to me. Of course, we had the usual examinations, forms to fill out, clothing to check, etc. We will never forget the plumbing facilities! Or Jaroncyk swatting flies all day in the shower room.

Many of the wives and families found their way to camp on various occasions and on the morning we left – a secret movement, of course, we had a caravan of cars riding alongside of us as we marched to the station weeping, kidding, etc. Shumaker who had been plagued by a "beetle" – really more of a horror, continued to be plagued by her – we all were willing to bet she would be at the docks waiting for us when we arrived on the other side.

Finally, after a few dry runs, "the" day came – Sunday noon, August 30^th, 1942. After lunch we took off with all our belongings for the station – a hot, long march. We arrived along with hundreds of other troops and started one of those long waits so common to the army. Finally our old, "beat-up" coach train was filled and we were off by middle afternoon. We pulled in to Jersey City and pulled on to the ferries, which were to take us up the harbor to our boat. Wood told us that the two Queens were in as he had seen them a night or two before while visiting his wife. As we moved slowly up the harbor the ferry would edge over toward some old mud scow and our hearts would sink. Before long we could see the stern of the two Queens way up ahead – our anxiety was even greater at each turn of the ferry.

Finally we were sure it was the Queen Elizabeth – hurray. En route we passed the Normandie, which was lying on its side while the navy was attempting to salvage it. We entered the modern dock and then we began to realize how huge the Queen was. Up and up we went before we reached our deck. After a quick check of the list, we boarded the ship and found our way down crowded halls – crowded with GIs who had been being loaded for a day or so. We were one of the last units to be loaded, and found out later we were very lucky as all the ships details had been chosen – guards and KPs, etc. All night we lay at the dock and about ten the next morning set sail for the open sea. It was a hard night for many of the fellows as many of them could see their homes in New York and Jersey from the boat – so close and yet so far. I drew to sleep the first shift, so had a good sleep that night as we could keep the portholes open and the air was good, despite the crowded conditions.  

The Queen Elizabeth:

         On Monday morning, August 31^st, 1942 the tugs slowly moved the huge liner out of New York harbor. To our disappointment, we were not allowed to go out on deck while in the harbor, as a security measure. But many of our unit found some big, unblacked-out windows under the bridge, and watched New York slip by. After passing the statue of liberty, we came out on deck and looked our new home over – what a crowd. We were on board when she carried one of her largest cargos – our company area was a small portion of the uppermost starboard deck. Theoretically we were to be here or in our cabins. But knowing our company, we knew that wouldn't hold – before long some of us were all over the ship. The cabin I was supposed to sleep in was a normal cabin for a couple – two small beds and bath – we were a little more crowded – only 38! If one wanted to get out, all the others would have to get up on their three tier beds. One night was enough for me with the windows sealed – what a terrific odor! I spent all the rest of the voyage on the foredeck and slept under the stars on the hold. As would be expected, we had all kinds of pranks to play – cutting the ropes of our beds, etc. As we received one canteen of water per day, many of the fellows decided to wash in the salt water, which would run in our tub. After a few got all stuck up with salty, pasty lather, we all decided a little dirt would not hurt.

         The first afternoon was beautiful as we left the east coast behind us and watched the fighters and Liberators wing by at regular intervals on patrol and the speedboats play around the large ship. With these plus the numerous guns on the decks, we felt we would be fairly safe against the submarines, which were sinking many of our ships off the eastern seaboard. The next morning we arose to find we were all alone on the blue, unending space of the ocean – no boats, no airplane, no nutting! Our hearts sank – we could see those submarines already surrounding us! Maybe we will see a patrol plane a little later, later, later – no such luck. We were on our own until we came in sight of the islands north of Ireland, and what a pleasant sight the British corvettes and destroyers and planes were, to say nothing of sight of land.

         Most of the time on board ship was spent in line for chow, which was served only twice a day as there were so many to feed and in the PX lines for candy and cokes (Pepsi-colas). I had a few interesting trips around the boat, including the engine room and lower decks – what a boat. The trip was uneventful actually, but we did have one night of anxiety – the ship had to race 200 miles off her course to get away from a pack of subs, and were we glad she was one of the fastest things afloat! When we passed through the Gulf Stream it was quite warm and there were numerous flying fish.

Up The Clyde:

         As soon as we sighted land to the south of us and had searched the horizon for all possible islands, etc., we began to get out our small atlases we had bought in Trenton, NJ, while stationed at Dix. After some discussion, we located ourselves off the north coast of Ireland – the island to our south being Rathlin Island. From that time on, we were all eyes to see all we could see of this new, green world in the afternoon light. Before long we realized we were entering the Firth of Clyde – yes, there was Alisa Craig to our right – an old volcanic neck sticking up in the water. The sides of the Firth were coming closer together and among the green landscape we could pick out houses, patches of rye, and small grain. A little later the houses – all a cold stone gray – stood out. Oh, there's a bus, a train, etc. There's a submarine net, a refueling station – look at the barrage balloons, a Catalina flying boat, that old lighthouse.

         By dusk we were well up the Clyde and approaching our destination Greenock. The landscape on all sides had become out of this world – something like a painting or a Hollywood set, at least definitely not real. Most of us had never seen the like of it before – entirely different from the US. As darkness fell, we entered the main part of the harbor where the gray outlines of aircraft carriers, battleships, destroyers, troop ships stood out in the gray haze – off and on would flash the signal lights from all the ships, like twinkling stars in the sky. The motors stopped, a few tugs pulled alongside and put the Queen to bed. And so to bed for us, as we were not scheduled to leave until the morrow. Immediately small ships began the big task of unloading the troops, and other small ships pulled alongside for refueling and preparations for the return trip.

         The next morning we were awakened by bagpipes playing on the docks of Greenock – look at the barrage balloons! We spent the morning talking with men who came aboard to help unload about raids – over there is the hull of... etc. We thought we knew all about it by noon. In the afternoon, our turn came and we piled into one of those small boats (about 1000 at a time) – now a speedboat was circling the Queen with a Scottish band playing very badly many American tunes. On to the dock – our first sight of an ATS girl and a WREN and off to the train – our own special train. Red Cross (British) girls were on hand to give us tea and brown bread. The gray, stone houses did not look so inviting now – cold, old, small. Just before dusk (Sept. 6^th) our train pulled out and we began climbing the hills of Scotland. Night seemed to come too fast as we either had to pull all the blinds or leave all the lights out – we chose the latter to the disgust of the card players. The sky was filled with searchlights – we were becoming more conscious of the fact that there was a war on. Soon we realized our engine and train was moving at full speed without any lights at all – this blackout is the real thing. Towns would go by and one could not tell as there were no lights – just an occasional streak of light slipping through a crack. At several stops we groped our way around to find that the British Red Cross was on hand with more tea and some of those terrific tarts which we all grew to eat.

         The next morning the sun was out and we were getting near London which was to be our home – the English countryside was beautiful – everything green, many hedgerows, small fields, etc., the houses were well kept including the doorknobs and knockers, and every house had a small but beautiful garden. The red double-decker busses, the steam trucks, and the distillate cars were becoming common sights. Whenever we saw a number of barrage balloons we knew that we were either coming to a town or airfield or factory. The shapes of the RAF planes were becoming familiar also – boy how big those Sterlings were.

Kew Gardens:

         Our next worry – what part of London would we be stationed in? What kind of billets, etc.? Our train began moving around the north side of London toward the west – say, there's some modern buildings – guess the British are on the ball too. Our train stopped by some bombed out buildings – a sight by then we were acquainted with – no station, just a signal against us. The civilians cheered from the windows and several came over to the train and we had a few words. How were we to know it was only two blocks to our billets! Then we moved on, and after a few minutes, pulled into Richmond Station – now to us the same as 30^th Street in Philly, or Winton Place in Cincy. We formed in the freight area adjoining the modern Southern Railroad Station and made a pretty sad looking picture – all types of uniforms, a week's dirt on our clothes and faces, books from the boat under our arms, packs slung in all directions, and we were tired.

         All of a sudden a band started playing nearby on the Richmond to Kew road – we were to be marched a mile or so to our billets down to the main road to the music of a Welsh band in Kilts! This was an occasion – the first Yanks in this part of London. Later, many of the inhabitants admitted they thought we were Germans with our new type of helmet. Did you ever march to a British band? What a stride – and so slow – it drove us crazy. Down Kew Road we went – a nice looking neighborhood, not too much bombing – say, what is this long brick wall on the left? Why, it goes for blocks. Later we found out that it enclosed the famous Royal Botanical Gardens. We looked ahead for any building that might serve as our billets – all of a sudden the British corporal hollered something and the band turned right and we headed down Mortlake Road, then left down Ruskin Avenue – we are here – look at those gates. We arrived in time for a late lunch at the Records and Claims building, served by Coldstream Guards – one of the four Guards units in England.

         As the US Army was still new over in England at the time, we had to draw English rations, etc. for some weeks. The British had arranged for a platoon of the famous Coldstream Guards to cook and act as fathers to us until we got organized – a swell bunch of fellows – we enjoyed their talks of Africa and other places, and they enjoyed our cigarettes. The wooden beds and straw mattresses were a little hard to get used to, but like the tea, sprouts, etc. we soon forgot our former tastes.

         The first night I was on guard and had no sooner gone on post when the sirens began to wail – later we found that it was almost a custom – every time we got some new men in or a new unit arrived in the building, we were sure to have a raid. Before long gunfire could be heard then the odd sound of the German planes – boy listen to that gun – sounded like it was 10 feet away. Soon things began to whistle overhead – a Coldstreamer who was standing nearby hollered "Duck!"  Later I found out he knew what he was talking about. He had heard some shrapnel coming long before I – needless to say, I ducked. The gunfire, the searchlights, the gun bursts, the tracer bullets, etc. were quite an introduction to life in England.

Raids at Kew:

         Before we left New York, we were aware of the fact that there were such things as raids going on in England, but it was not until we reached Kew and began undergoing them that we knew what the word "raid" meant. And we did not know what the word "raid" on 20 and 41 meant – there were no guns replying, the night fighters did not swarm up – the sky was not filled with searchlights at that time!

         The chief target for the raiders were the dock areas – almost every raid would be followed by a beautiful red glow off in the direction of the dock area. What there was left to burn I could never figure out – it was just leveled, except for the continual rebuilding of the docks. We were located on the Thames, and the planes used to use it as a guide – what fun. If they didn't come in over us, they would go out our way! And those large gas tanks nearby – we were sure they would get it one time or another. And, then we had two important river bridges nearby.

         The following is the list of activities for one month.  In January 1944 there were 29 raids, in February the following:

Feb 3 - 1

Feb 4 - 1

Feb 6 - 1

Feb 11 - 1

Feb 12 - 1

Feb 13 - 1

Feb 19 - 1

Feb 20 - 1

Feb 22 - 1

Feb 23 - 2

Feb 24 - 1

Feb 25 - 1

Feb 29 - 1

Etc. each month.

         One night returning from London I thought I had "had it" as the British say. When I left Piccadilly, the all clear was posted – but when we came above ground beyond Earles Court a raid was on – all lights on the train were off and one could see very clearly. The pathfinder planes had dropped their flares just ahead of us in the area over Cheswick – many railroad junctions, etc. Then the planes began dropping the high explosives – sticks of them began dropping all around! The train suddenly stopped – the line had received a direct hit somewhere. All doors were automatically locked so no one would get out and be electrocuted. There we were – high in the air on a fill, with bombs dropping on all sides! It was the first time in my life I saw whole houses rise in the air and disintegrate. At times we thought surely the windows would be blown out, as the train would rock with each close blast. "Watch it, they're heading this way" – first one then another, then another and so on, right in line with our train. We all ducked into the safest place – the safest in our own judgment. When it was over, I found that there was a huge piece of plate glass on the side of me. I had concentrated on getting away from the windows. What a relief to find we were still there and the houses adjoining the trackers were not! Needless to say, we walked the rest of the way home that night – and many other nights.

         Aside from a few incendiaries, which landed all around our huge building, we were untouched by regular raids – the same was not true of V-1s and V-2s.

Cheltenham, England:

         After a week or so at Kew, I was assigned to a detail of 15 men to go to Cheltenham (one of the three famous English Spas) on detached service. We boarded the train at Paddington and had the privilege of riding in a baggage car for four hours – oh yes the trains were crowded in England too. The scenery was different and I especially enjoyed passing through the Chiltern Hills and around the southern end of the Cotswolds.

         Our stay in Cheltenham proved to be the best months of all our army life. We lived in a private hotel with a civilian guard, telephone operator, and fireman! The small hotel was formerly occupied by a branch of the British Intelligence – we had phone connections by direct wire to all the important offices in England. Later ATS girls took over the job of telephone operators, which added a little life to the deserted place. We had fireplaces and a telephone in every room – in the morning the guard would buzz us in time for us to catch a bite at the Presbyterian Church Canteen nearby – will we ever forget that fried bread and so-called sausages?  

         Our place of work was on Winchombe Street, a square or two off the main avenue. It was formerly a stable – Cheltenham is the home of the famous steeplechase – the US Army was using it as a drill field and casual camp – we spent many afternoons there getting our drilling in – also getting some extra rations at the PX – what a line we used to give. But everyone was new then, so it worked. I was appointed supply Sgt. of our detachment – from a colonel at Ash Church (chief supply depot in England at the time). I got everything for the boys.

         The former stable was used by the British prior to our arrival as a printing plant and a few of their presses remained, plus a few civilian helpers – male and female. During the big blitz, all the important offices were moved to the country – now they were slowly being moved closer to London – if they only knew the V-bombs were yet in store for them, they probably would never have moved back.

         Our job was to help with the finishing touches of the mapping end of the African Campaign. A few of us did drafting – chiefly the cities along the African coast, while others organized the map depot and waited for the big moment. Finally it came and we worked for several days 20 out of 24 hours getting all the maps ready and off. Never before and probably never again will we see officers work as hard and as long with their men. When the announcement of the landings in Africa came, we felt quite pleased that we had a concrete part in it.

         The kinds of maps changed quickly and we were beginning to get in more and more European maps – I didn't know so many kinds existed. The knowledge of available maps, which I learned here was a terrific help upon my return to the company a couple of months later, as they had just started production and everything was in much confusion.

         At teatime, we would all go around the corner and get a couple of apple tarts and tea – this happened twice a day. At noon, as we were on per diem because there were no GI mess halls in our vicinity, we would go to the local restaurants and have some fish and chips (French fries) or some of those English wartime dishes – the chief constituents of which were bread and potatoes. Of course, we had our fill of sprouts. In the evening when we were not working late, we would eat in the Red Cross Club at the end of the Promenade – a beautiful tree lined street (formerly the best hotel in town – the Queen's). Before going to bed we had a snack – fruit, tomatoes, fish and chips, or something else we were able to buy. The fireman always kept some hot water on so we always had tea!

         Eventually, our holiday came to an end and we were relieved by 15 other fellows, some of which to this day have not returned to this unit. The men up there at the time became the main NCOs in charge of the Mapping Section of ETO Hdg. We found upon our return that we had missed very little other than hikes along the towpath, etc. Production was just getting underway.

         An interesting point in passing was that Cheltenham was the headquarters of General Eisenhower at the time previous to the African affair and we all got to know him quite well – one of the friendliest fellows to meet in the hall and still one of the neatest and most businesslike. He spoke to everyone. It was fun working in Cheltenham as we had a wonderful opportunity to meet the English civilians and also the English soldiers.

         While in the spa, we had several interesting trips, acquaintances, etc. Lady Astor was a frequent visitor of the Red Cross club and really used to get the GI's going. The Queen visited the Town Hall for several affairs. The remaining members of the Bass Ale family lived there and were about quite often. Several of us ventured afield on the train and afoot. Stratford-on-Avon, Tewkesbury, Hereford, Gloucester, and London were the most visited afield on train. The Cotswolds rose sharply to the southeast of town and made a wonderful place for a hike or bicycle ride – the Rising Sun Inn and Leckampton Hill will never be forgotten.

         The Home Guard of Cheltenham each year would test its ability against the British Army – we got caught in one of these drills – quite realistic too. The dive-bombers would go over, the tanks roared up from Gloucester, the infantry surrounded the city – eventually the army won out. But never let anyone say anything about the Home Guard. After working all week in a factory and staying most of two or three nights fire-watching they would go out all Sunday morning – every Sunday morning – and drill, run obstacle courses, etc. And they were a sharp looking set, too.

         My return to Kew found me in a few weeks a sergeant in the Drafting Section – drafting on the northwestern tip of Cherbourg Peninsula using British methods, symbols, and supplies. I can still see that sheet clearly in my mind.

Two Years at Kew:

         The first months at Kew were spent in getting our billets in shape and unloading and setting up our equipment. During this time we had our usual drills and training – the latter included training by the British wardens against firebombs, anti-personnel bombs, and high-explosive bombs, plus correct first aid and resource procedure. Will we ever forget crawling around on our elbows and knees in that smoke chamber, or the dirty jobs at rescue school?

         At last our first job arrived and we got under way on a 24 hour, six day week basis. This was the state of things when I returned from Cheltenham and started on one of our quads – the most northwesterly of all – "Cap de la Hague". While this was going on, our training program continued – at times on our own time. It was during this period that most of us did our extensive travelling as we had Sunday off, plus the long weekend between the change of shifts every three weeks. Another factor – there were still very few GI's, things were not too crowded except along the south coast where the Canadians had been waiting for a year or so.

         The tempo increased as our assignments grew and we began working seven days a week, then towards D-Day 8 hours on and 8 hours off seven days a week. The strain began showing up on the fellows, but there was nothing to be done. At one time we got 100 new men in to help but our work continued to grow and deadlines were always shorter. The air raids were somewhat of a benefit during waking hours as it gave the fellows a chance to rest – we were required to head for the shelters, post fire guards, etc. But when the V-1s started on June 13^th things were changed – they came so often and in such large quantities that we could not afford to go to the shelters as we would not make our deadlines. So a spotting system was set up in connection with the Chrysler plant next door and we ignored the sirens, which sounded so often it was hard to tell whether it was all clear or not, and set up a bell system. Later it got worse and ignored the Buzz bombs completely unless it sounded like it was coming right overhead – at night we just went to bed and trusted they wouldn't hit us directly. One night it didn't work!

         During the course of the work I was transferred to Editing and found things in a terrific state. With my past experience and what I picked up at Cheltenham I was entrusted with the responsibility of the three shift section, which later I consolidated into one for uniformity of edit, etc. It proved to be very interesting work as we had to check and edit all the work of our various sections before they went out for reproduction and distribution to the field – photomaps, line maps, special mosaics, town plans, detailed maps and plans of proposed air fields for D-Day, plus innumerable special secret jobs for That Day. It was also profitable for me as I gradually advanced to Tech.!

         One of our last acts at Kew was sending an advanced party to Normandy, some thirty days after D-Day to pick a good building for us – oh yes, we knew we were headed that way, but where? Ed Bauman left with that party so I had three drafting shifts to take care of too – was that a busy time trying to keep ahead of the armies in the field, the buzz bombs at home, and awake – sleep isn't necessary anyway!

V-Bombs at Kew:

         Variety is the spice of life, so on Thursday evening about 11 o'clock the Germans started something new – the V-1s. The sirens went and our first remark – the Jerries are getting brave – coming over while it is still light. We went to the shelters and in a short time the all clear sounded. We had all gotten back to the barracks when the sirens began to wail again – this time we didn't return until breakfast time. All we knew was that the SE side of London was taking a beating and there was an air of mystery about. Boy were the fellows tired after working the day, grave, or midnight shift and spending 10 or 12 hours in the shelter. Then we found out it was a flying bomb! More fun. The next few days were spent watching them and devising some sort of spotting system as we realized it was impossible to get to the shelter every time the siren went off, when the buzz bomb might be headed a few blocks away.

         At night we would go up on top of the roof and watch them come in over London from the east and south – at first they would look like a star low on the horizon, then you would faintly hear that deep guttural sound which grew louder and louder and louder until the building actually would shake if it was a close one. Of course, when it looked like they were heading straight for the billets, we raced for the ground – we always felt safe if we could be outdoors as in a few seconds, one could get far enough away to only be cut or bruised. Remember the night one crept up on us? Remember the dash for the squad-room door and Pat Barella falling down the steps in his shorts?

         Our billets along the Thames seemed to be right in line or on one of their tracks – there was also one to the south and one to the north. It all depended on the wind – if conditions were just right, they would go directly overhead. And some of them were so low, we were afraid they would hit the roof – no kidding. As they would approach, we would decide if they were coming directly over. If so we would begin listening for any signs of the motor knocking off or any intensity of the sound as they could not be depended upon. And then again, if the motor did stop, they would do one of three things. 1) Drop almost straight down 2) twist to the right or the left 3) or glide for a couple of miles. One night I was coming off shift at midnight and heard one that sounded like one for us – well I'll take a look at it before I go to bed – say, that one is going to be close – I reached the door of the hall in time to see it almost directly overhead – the motor stopped as it went over – I hit the floor right along the wall and waited – it was a glider! After a few seconds I got up and could see the still red hot tail piece moving on over the Botanical Gardens – it glided for three miles!

         The first real close one – close to our lives, not billets, was the one that landed next door to the Red Cross Club in Richmond on Tuesday, August 22^nd. Our band was playing for a dance and fellows were lying all over the lawn when one decided to knock off and drop straight down. All the windows, doors, sash, most of the plaster, tiles, roof, etc. disappeared – luckily the fellows only received scratches – some of the girls were not so lucky. I, and several others, were on the roof watching them come across and decided that one must have hit in Richmond – it was only a few minutes when we were being called out for a little cleanup work.

         At 6:45 AM, August 27^th, Sunday morning, we were all awakened by a terrific explosion – a V-1 Landed in our guardroom. I was awakened by the terrific roar and just rolled over and adjusted the blankets, quilt, and put my helmet on in time. The windows in our squad room disappeared and the space filled by glass was streaks of red headed upward. All this accompanied by a terrific roar, explosion, and shaking of the ground (just like an earthquake). Next I heard the tinkle of falling glass, metal, plaster, etc. Then things could be heard falling outside. I was not sure whether it has been a direct hit. Looking back at my bed I found that it was covered with glass, plaster, screws, etc. The light over my bed was on the floor, and huge pieces of plaster were scattered all over the room – and our squad room was farthest from the bomb!

         Upon rushing around the building I found the pile of wood that was the guard room afire – so getting the help of one of the cooks and another fellow or two, we started to pour water on the bomb crater. Two other fellows did the same with a hose – all our practice came in quite handy. The rest of the fellows began hunting through the wreckage for those still alive – a couple were pinned under the wreckage and we had quite a fight to keep ahead of the fire but finally got it out. Many of the details will have to be left out until I return – suffice it to say: we were picking up arms and legs and torsos all morning. After several roll calls and putting together of parts, we had everyone accounted for. The British were right on the job and rescue squads were on hand in no time – in an hour or so had one of their Red Cross tea wagons to refresh the fellows. After everything was cleared up, they decided to leave us to finish it off. Several of our fellows are wearing a purple heart – several parents are guarding a purple heart also!

September 8^th:

One evening in the NAAFI we were straddled by a terrific explosion – the guards said the smoke came from over Cheswick way – what could it be? The rumor the British were spreading shortly was that it was a gas main that exploded – another was that it was a Home Guard ammunition dump! We all were sure it was the talked of V-2. A few days later, after we had adjusted ourselves to the three – raids, V-1s, and V-2s, we had another close call – a V-2 landed on the Chrysler plant next door – out went our paper windows and off went a few shingles. Immediately we were called out as rescue squads – what a sight – the V-2 really goes deep and really chews up a small area (three or four houses). We were really picking up pieces as everyone in the immediate area was shredded, the others just outside the area were just shaken – we used barracks bags and threw the hunks of meat in like pork chops – unbelievable.

         We left England in the middle of the month with sorrow, but with a sigh of relief, as at least there would only be a few buzz and V-2 bombs in France.