Actions at Arnhem, account by Pte R Janvosky

Private. Roland Janovsky. 3 Platoon, ‘A’ Company, 2nd Parachute Battalion.

His account of the actions at Arnhem, written in September 1998.

“I can’t tell you too much about the Order Of battle, except that ‘A’ Company was in the lead and I think, in the order of One, Two and Three Platoons. I was in Three Platoon and our Platoon Commander was Lt. McDermott, [1] who was subsequently killed. I also think that the distance from our DZ was in the region of nine kilometres, because I saw it on a sign post.

Other than that I can only relate my own experiences. I did not advance to the bridge with my Company, but was detailed to take care of the prisoners, who had been captured when we reached the outskirts of Arnhem. I marched them through the outskirts until I found a Headquarters of some sort and somebody who was willing to relieve me of them.

Then, following a trail of destruction, I arrived at the Bridge just as Lt. Grayburn [2] had been driven back with his Platoon from trying to capture the southern end. The position at the end of the Bridge, on the embankment, was being dug in. I don’t know by who. I was sent to the beginning of the Bridge structure to take up a listening post.

Along the approaches to the Bridge itself, a start had been made on the construction of concrete road obstructions. There were large heaps of sand in readiness and I dug myself a hole in one of them. I don’t know what I was really there for since I had no means of communicating with my Company, except by standing up and shouting or otherwise attracting attention – which at the time, seemed to be inadvisable.

When the first small convoy came across, I was still there and drew a grenade and removed the pin, which unfortunately I dropped in the sand! Unfortunately, because by then the last vehicle had passed. Anyway, I threw the grenade in their direction.

Soon after, I was recalled and took up position in the ground floor of the house depicted in the painting of the Bridge by David Shepherd, facing away from the Bridge. There I met up with my mate Robertson [3], whose name does not seem to appear at all on the ‘A’ Company roll.

‘Robbo’ and myself took [up] a position behind a low window on the ground floor, facing out, [and] away from the embankment. The windows were lined to the floor level with metal radiators, which were not good protection against ricocheting objects. The Company, or elements of it, remained there for most of the action, which has been described often enough. Our wounded were placed in a cellar beneath the house, which also became a kind of headquarters.

The house was fired, I believe by mortars and was also attacked by tanks at point blank range. Most of the tanks appeared to be firing AP rounds, luckily. But, the noise was horrendous and deafening and the house was raked from top to bottom. More wounded were added to the ranks, but I don’t know what happened to the dead.

On the night before we evacuated the house, I was positioned at the head of the cellar stairs with a Bren, looking out through French windows that opened out to a garden in case, I suppose, the enemy attempted to come through the back way – rather like tradesmen. During that night I vaguely saw dozens of them, who fortunately did not materialise into real people, I resisted firing at them [hallucinating?].

The next evening we evacuated the house, leaving the wounded in the cellar. It was believed firmly that they would received good medical treatment from our foes. We joined the rest of the remains of our Battalion in what I have since read was the grounds of a school. Robertson and I dug a hole for ourselves using a fire hatchet and a helmet. Not deep, but deep enough to discover a crate containing six bottles of Champagne. Robertson and I took a bottle each and handed the rest around. It must have been good to be buried, for not long after that we both fell asleep, not surprisingly – what with the alcohol and having had no sleep or food for four days. We were both pleasantly surprised to see the sun the next morning.

During the next day we were fired upon with what seemed to be fairly heavy guns, plus mortars and hand grenades thrown over the surrounding walls. No attempt was made to actually attack our positions, even though we had little ammunition to put up any great resistance. We survived the day, but towards the evening we were asked to surrender and refused, so I was told. That night the Germans offered to remove our wounded, who numbered, so I have since read, in the region of two hundred. They walked among us as we lay in our holes in the ground and removed the wounded, which took some time.

Afterwards the battle commenced again, but not for long as were completely starved of ammunition. The end cannot be described adequately by the word “chaos”. ‘Robbo’ and I attempted to just walk away, but we didn’t get very far before being apprehended and told that we were now prisoners – which seemed reasonable enough!

That was the end so far as I was concerned. We were gathered together and marched to a church, where we sat in the pews and were informed by a German officer standing on the altar that any attempt to escape would result in those remaining being shot. A most unpleasant prospect. During interrogation we were treated like rather naughty boys. Some boys, some naughtiness! We were placed in cattle-trucks and transported to a main Stalag, where I somehow lost my mate ‘Robbo’.

From the Stalag, I was transported to a working party camp in Halle-on-Salle. George Stubbs [4], who you mention in your letter, was there also and may remember me and Kitchener [5]. George might also remember that we had a diphtheria epidemic and a lot of blokes were placed in isolation, including Kitchener and myself. Some died, but all were removed to hospital except for me and ‘Kitch’, who did not have diphtheria. Both of us remained in isolation for a couple of weeks or so, by ourselves, during which time we burnt most of the bed boards and some of the bunks in order to keep warm.

Eventually, we were kicked out to work on the burial party that has been mentioned by George. Later, after Christmas, the camp was bombed by Allied aircraft. The Russians were approaching and we were all gathered together and marched out to some unknown destination. Also unknown by the guards, I think. Going through Halle, Kitchener and I escaped and after about three weeks on the run were picked up by Americans in an armed Jeep, who had been told by forced labour workers of our whereabouts.”

NOTES:

[1] 268968. Lieut. A.J. McDermont. 3 Platoon. KIA: 22/09/44.

[2] 149002. Lieut. J.H. Grayburn. 2 Platoon. KIA: 20/09/44.

[3] 6203999. Pte. J. Robertson. 3 Platoon.

[4] 4399981. Pte. G.W. Stubbs. 3 Platoon HQ.

[5] 6145649. L/Cpl. R.A. Kitchener . 1 Platoon.