Open Writing

There had been little fighting in North Africa until 1941. The enemy troops were Italians, and there were skirmishes with them from time to time, but the Italians had little heart for fighting. When the Germans began to send troops, however, and with the arrival of General Rommel in February, the fighting started in earnest. From April onwards there were numerous encounters, especially between Tobruk and Sidi Barrani, these culminating in a tremendous battle at Sidi Rezegh in November.

Soon after Christmas the tank units left the rest of the Regiment and headed west, travelling around sixty to seventy miles a day. We crossed the border into Libya and headed for an area south of Benghazi, in the region of Agedabia and El Agheila, about another 350 miles west of the border, where the fighting was taking place.

Once in the desert we had to get our bearings with the aid of a compass. Except for the coastal towns and a few scattered towns south of the coast, there was nothing marked on the map, simply because there was nothing there - except in some cases trig points, places marked with either oil drums or piles of stones. Many times a meeting point was just a map reference, in the middle of nowhere.

Back at Catterick Camp, which now seemed years away, map-reading had been one of the things we had to learn, and now we realised how essential that training was. To take a bearing with a compass it was necessary to walk at least twenty yards away from the tank, because the metal of the tank could play tricks with the compass needle.

Into January 1942, and we were still moving west. I was in a Crusader and our tank commander, SSM 'Beefy' Webb, was replaced by Captain Patchett, second-in-command of the squadron. We were glad to have him as commander, as he brought food with him from the officers' mess, including tinned fruit, sauce, rice, and some whisky.

The rest of the crew besides myself were Dick Rowney, the wireless operator, and Jack Emery, the driver, one of the young men who had joined us at Tilford. (He inherited the name 'Jim' as there was a character on the wireless called Jim Emery). Sometimes crews were switched around, but Jim, Dick and I were in the same tank for a long time, though when Captain Patchett took over our tank he brought his own wireless operator, Les Haycroft, and Dick was moved to another tank.

To quote from my diary of 4 January, 1942:

‘Up at 5.30 a.m. and did 81 miles. When we set off we were 30 miles south of Tobruk - moved west. Terribly bad going in places. Some places very stony others very soft sand. Writing this in semi-darkness in bivvy. Got on fine with Captain Patchett.

5 January: Up at 5 a.m. moved straight on and stopped from 7.30 a.m. to 8 a.m. for breakfast. No other halt till 5.45 p.m. Should have done 85 miles today but held up by a big minefield and only did about 55 to 60 miles. Went 20 miles through minefield in single file. Terribly dusty, everything thick with dust. Bitterly cold. Light meal. Cocoa and tinned fruit.’

Our Royal Engineers had cleared a track through the minefield, but it was still hazardous going. Always on the move by dawn, we would sometimes stop a day or so in one place, but then it was off again. At night it was always someone's turn to do guard duty.

We were on duty in pairs, and one night when Bob Buckland and I were on guard together, we were leaning against a tank, then set off walking. We were engrossed in talking about what we would do when we got back home, when we realised to our amazement that the tank in front of us was the one we'd been leaning against before we started walking. We had walked round in a circle without realising it.

One day we came across an Arab with a herd of sheep, and Captain Patchett bought one from him for £1. The Arab turned the sheep over on its back, cut its throat, and put it on our tank. At night Corporal 'Ginger' Hopkins, who had been a butcher, skinned and cut it up, and it was shared out. I refused my share, preferring to continue living on tinned sausages and rice.

Another day we saw several Arabs with a herd of about forty camels, but most of the time we saw only sand, stones and scrub.

After a while we halted and stayed in the same place for over a week. My diary notes on 12 January 1942:

'Had first wash and shave for six days. Oh what a shave! Still it felt grand after - washed hair too.' It had rained heavily and we had dug a little reservoir. Although it dried up by the next day, it gave us some very welcome water, both for drinking and washing.