'A Dangerous Journey' by Leonard Bailey 2nd Parachute Battalion Part 2

The Italians had packed in the war by now, I think they were glad to. Our next move was to Bari, where we boarded a landing craft and sailed up the Adriatic Sea. It was very rough, even the sailors were sea-sick. I can still see Vardy and Hutchinson eating great big bacon sandwiches, nothing seemed to upset those two. Meanwhile, I laid on the deck wishing it would get torpedoed, I felt that ill. I hoped there would be no Germans when we landed, and glad to say there were none. The reason that it felt so rough was that these little ‘ships’ had flat bottoms, so they could run up the beach and land us dry, but they went over the waves instead of through them.

While we were stationed in Italy I saw [the entertainer] Wee Georgey Wood, in a nice theatre in the town [Barletta]. While I had been hospitalized in Tripoli I saw the Dagenham Girl Pipers in a show given by E.N.S.A. (Entertainment National Service Association). I also saw George Formby at Sousse. These shows were always well attended, something from home.

Still in Italy we did a forced march, seven miles in an hour, with all our kit and arms (weapons), when we got back to the camp we stood to attention for a minute, then grounded our arms and stood for another minute. We were then ordered to take up arms (rifles), now that took a bit of doing. Then you should be able to shoot straight, it was really a question of whether or not you could have hit a bull in a china shop!

Our next move was back to Algiers ready for the return home to England. We had a few days out in Algiers, and I remember one afternoon while we were there that Ron Holt got up to one of his tricks. I stood on one side of the road while he pretended to put a reel in my hand, he then pretended to unwind it across the road to the other side. There were people all across the road looking at nothing, with all the traffic stopped behind them. Then Ron would rewind the line, and wave the traffic on!

On one of our trips to Algiers we went into a restaurant, gave our order and they brought us snails! I’ve seen better ones at the bottom of my Mothers garden! Instead we found an Arab shop that was able to make us fish and chips, after we explained what we wanted.

We left Algiers in December, Nineteen Forty Three, and arrived back at Liverpool. It was dark when we disembarked, and we marched to the railway station and boarded a train to Grantham, where we would be stationed until we went to Arnhem.

It was Christmas, so we were sent on leave. Before we had left Algiers we were allowed to fill in a small box with goods to send? Home. I put some oranges and some small gifts in as well. They all got home safe and sound. On our return from leave we did more training, but we had quite few weekends off.

One training drop that we did, near Lincoln, I landed in a wood. I covered my face as best I could and touched the ground like a fairy! As it was dark, and I didn’t know how far off the ground I was I lowered myself down and was only a few feet off the ground – best landing I ever had!

I remember the Second Front starting (‘D’ Day), I went back to my room, and when I got there one of the lads, whom we called ‘Holy Joe’, was praying at his bedside. I said sorry and left him, and that is how I will always remember D-Day starting. We had three or four briefings to go too, but they were overrun before we could go and get there, one was outside Caen.

At the first briefings for Arnhem we were going as a Brigade, but when we actually went, it was as a Division, and also the Polish Brigade.

We dropped on Sunday afternoon, on a heath a few miles out of Arnhem. Our first prisoners were German soldiers taking their girl friends out for a Sunday afternoon walk. Some gliders had landed on the next field over from us, and some of them had run into the wood at the end of the heath. They tore their wings off, but all the men appeared to get out alright.

We made our way off the heath, and down a little road t the main road that lead to Arnhem. Some of our troops had killed a German officer and his driver going along the main road. They appeared to have nothing to do with the battle, just bad luck, they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then I saw some German prisoners, one was laid on a wall, and he had very bad leg wounds, so I lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He got hold of my hand and said I was a good Tommy, that is what they called British soldiers – TOMMY.

You may wonder why I did this, but front line soldiers treated wounded soldiers like this, both them and us. Its only later that you get your belongings taken from you, except when you get one with a Luger pistol! I got one, but I sold it to an American for ten pounds in Algiers, so he would be able to he took it off a German Officer when he got home.

The advance into Arnhem turned into a route march with all the people waving to us and giving us flowers, yellow marigolds, the Dutch colour. As we got near to Arnhem we came under fire from an armoured car. Here I saw the first of our men killed, his name was ‘Tom’ Gibson ^[21] from Nottingham, some kind people put a white sheet over him at the side of the road.

As we got nearer the Bridge we came under heavier fire, and we took cover where we were. I landed up in a building with ‘Paddy’ Currie. ^[22]

The next morning an officer came and got us together to get right up to the Bridge, but as we got nearer we came under fire, and some men were killed. Currie and I landed up in a barn behind a house.

Later, on Tuesday, a Sergeant came into our position and said it is every man for himself. I had never heard such a thing and I did not believe him at all. I was sure that no one would give such an order. On the Tuesday afternoon a German tank pulled up outside the building and someone shouted, “Come out, or we will blow you out”.  I went out with my hands up, but Paddy would not put his hands up, I said, “Paddy, put your hands up or they will shoot us”. Still no hands up. I said to the German, “He is Irish, we have a lot of trouble with them”, expecting to be shot any minute. He told us to go into the middle of the road, and I thought this is it, Paddy you have got us both shot. The German made us march down the middle of the road, and fired a few shots at our heels – glad to say he was a good shot and missed us.

A German officer shouted at us, “For you the war is over, we will soon be in London”, I shouted back, “You have no hope of doing that”, and I could tell that he knew it too. Further up the road a lone Para was shooting at a group of Germans, and us to, because the German that was guarding us had stopped to watch his mate shoot back. But, what was strange, to me, was five soldiers were knelt down and five soldiers standing behind them, just like you see in pictures of the Boer war!

Further up the road we were stopped by some more German soldiers, and they began to search us. Before I left Grantham I had changed a one pound note for soap at the N.A.A.F.I., and now had three half crowns, a ten shilling note and some loose coppers. When the German saw the half crowns his eyes nearly fell out of his head, but he threw the ten shilling note away. I tried to tell him that it was worth four of those, but he poked me with his rifle, so I shut up. So, if you find a ten shilling note when you are in Holland – it’s mine!

The Sergeant had his watch taken, so he asked a German officer who had come over to us, if he could get it back for him, as it was off his wife. The officer said, “You did the same to us in North Africa, so I can’t help”.

As we came to the Hospital we were told to put our field dressings and shell dressings and morphine at the door. I had used my morphine on the German soldier that I gave a cigarette to.

At this time I said to ‘Paddy’, “I think we are the only one’s taken prisoner, it doesn’t look very good”. However, when we got to the place they were taking us to, the grounds of a big house, there were a hundred or so already there.

The next day we were lined up and marched away, we knew not where. As we marched along a German ran at me to kick me, but missed, he then shouted at me in German, and the man behind me said, “He called you an arrogant bastard”, and I said, “Tell him to come over here and put his rifle down, and I will show him how arrogant I am”. We did not see him again. I have often wondered why this soldier did this to me and why he called me what he did, but I think it was because, as we marched along, some Dutch people who were on a balcony with their children in front of them. They were holding their children, but there fingers formed a victory ‘V’, so I gave a victory ‘V’ back to them, well you would, and I did anyway. If the German had come back he would have had smack in the mouth, even if they then shot me for it.

We made a stop along the road, and there was a line of tanks, armoured cars and lorries parked up. They sat us down on the same side of the road as them – a mistake by them – as I went behind a lorry and found some biscuits with butter and jam on them, so took them and got back, fast. I shared them with ‘Paddy’ and said that is one German who will be going without his breakfast!

We arrived at a big warehouse at a station. When we had settled down I had a look around to see who I knew, and saw Captain [Major] Timothy, and he asked me how I was and gave me a large slice of bread.

Next day we were loaded into cattle trucks on the railway and taken to Limburg. Before we were loaded our boots were taken from us and loaded aboard another wagon. Luckily I got my own pair back, when we got off the train.

As I walked through the gate of the Camp I heard a voice shout, “Bailey”. It was a man I had seen on my first day in the Army at Cardiff, it was Moore’s, and he had been taken prisoner with the Welch Regiment. Here we were given our Prisoner Of war number, mine was 90363. I was asked my name and number, which I gave, but he then asked what Battalion and Company, I replied, “Only my name and number”. He said, “Alright I will tell you”, and he told me my Battalion, Company and named some officers, he may have been guessing, but I did not answer.

While we were here some of us were taken to the nearby town to dig for an unexploded bomb, we never found it, not that we tried to hard. I slipped away into an orchard and filled my pockets with apples, little red ones. When I looked up a little boy was sitting watching me, I shook my head and gave him my cap-badge, he didn’t give me away.

We were then moved quite a long way by train to a Stalag at Falingbostel. Here we were sent to work digging up the tree roots of trees that had been felled in a nearby forest. We were beginning to feel hungry all the time now. The Camp rations were a bowl of soup, mostly turnips, and a slice of bread – this was what they called Rye bread. There was also what they called coffee, but was made with what appeared to be burnt acorns.

One day a German Officer had us all on parade, and said, “You are British soldiers, which is the counterpart of the German Army. I know you have not got much, but you will find a nail and hang things up like you did at home, and fold your blanket”. Some of the men were beginning to forget they were soldiers and not looking after themselves.

Here I was given a French Cavalry overcoat or cape, which was very good, as it was getting quite cold now. One day I spoke to a guard who looked quite old, and he told me that he had been a guard at this camp in the First world War, and he said, “I bet I guarded your father”, I was happy to inform him that he had not. After a short time here we were sent to an Arbeits Kommando (Work Camp) at Salzgitter. Here we were set to work on a tunnel, a shaft had been driven down through the middle of the hill and a tunnel from the side, which we were to meet up with later. This was to be a storage place. When we first got there we were working on the top of the shaft in the cold, and it was now snowing.

I got a job with a German worker that took the tubs of rock out of the shaft. One day he brought a newspaper to work, and it was all about the battle of Arnhem, it said the parachutists were all killers, ex-convicts and drunkards. I said that I was taken prisoner there – you should have seen his face, it was full of fright - I think he thought I would kill him there and then!

Not long after this we were sent to work underground, which did us a good turn, as it kept us out of the cold. At this place the food was a little better, as we received Red Cross parcels. There was a barter system, so that we could exchange some of the goods for different food that was more filling. This system was run by prisoners that had been there a long time. They could speak very good German, so they could deal with the people in the village and where they worked. So, if you had a bar of chocolate you could get a Red Cross box full of potatoes, which filled you up better. If you had a tin of coffee, which was like gold dust to the Germans, who had not seen real coffee for years, you could get both potatoes and bread. As I say it was run by some of the prisoners, but I expect the guards were in on it too.

I spent Christmas in this camp, and a local band came and played and sang carols. The wife of one of the German workers made me some ‘hand-shoes’, nice word for gloves! This man gave me a sandwich, which I had to eat in the tunnel, in the dark, so no one would see that I had been given food by a German worker. The German soldier that used to escort us to work, and bring us back in the dark, used to let me nip into a field to get a turnip or a cabbage, which came in very handy.

Working at the mine we had good fires in the huts. What we used to do was saw the wood in two equal lengths and hang them round our necks, and then have a nice short piece in our hand. This was to drop at the gate, and we would shout for the Captains guard, which kept them sweet, and they had a good fire too. I knew that French Cavalry cape would come in handy and useful!

Back to the Red Cross parcels – in them were some big biscuits, which you soaked in water and they would increase to three or four times the original size. There was usually some dried fruit in the parcel as well, so with this mixture you could make a cake on top of the stove.

When we marched to and from the workplace, in the dark, we had a lamp at the front and a lamp at the back. One night coming back the man at the front fell down in the snow, and the guard shouted, “Lampa kaput (broken)”, we all shouted back, “Bugger the lampa, what about the man?!” Even the guard had to laugh at that!

In the camp most of the talk was about food, not girls as it should have been. We talked about what we would like to eat right then, fish and chips or pork pies. When it was my turn I said potato pie in the washing up dish! At this one of the men said that in his last camp there was a man who used to say that, and that the man had been taken prisoner in North Africa. I said I can tell you his name, never he said – Charley Buckley – that right he said, how did you know. I told him that he was our Scout Master, and that his mother used to make potato pie suppers for us. They were made in enamel bowls with a blue rim, everybody had them in those days, not plastic like they do now. I expect she had some help, as there were a lot of us.

The war was getting nearer, we could hear the guns firing. There was an air raid over Hildersheim and strips of silver paper came down in the camp, dropped by the planes. We found out, later, that this was to jam the radar. This was what they called a thousand bomber raid, and the sky went dark with them. Two or three planes were shot down, we saw the crews bail out and their chutes open. Lots of us picked up the silver paper to keep as souvenirs from home! Someone said this was the only raid it had, which lasted about sixteen minutes – the city was a terrible sight.

One day we were marched out of the camp and went a good few miles, and were then put in a large brick building, with straw to lie on. When we awoke the next morning there was not a guard in sight – not even a good-bye! Some villagers came to us and made the best pea soup ever. There were a lot of Russians about, and they were afraid of these Russian prisoners, and asked us to stay in their houses. We did this until the American tanks came, which were miles in front of the infantry.

We set off down the road to where our troops were, I really should say American troops, as I do not remember seeing any British troops in the area I was in. As we walked along we came to a milk factory with farmers still delivering their milk. We were given a good drink of their milk, and we were given butter and cheese. I found a big tub with hot water in it, so I stripped off and had a good bath. While I was in the bath a young lady came along with another bucket of hot water and put it in the tub! Talk about going from famine to plenty, we now also made chips with best butter instead of fat!

We made our way further back and came to a sugar factory, so we had plenty of sugar, and we had found a field with rhubarb in it. On our way I had stopped at a farm for a drink of water. Nearby there had been some German soldiers that had been taken prisoner, and they left behind some big cans of meat, something like veal. I carried a few cans into the farmhouse and told the lady that had given me the drink that she had better have these for when the British came, as they would not be loaded up with food.

Now we did what most British soldiers do when they meet children – we had a party! (If they don’t have a party they give them chocolate). So, we got the kids together and had a party, as we now had plenty of food.

I saw something here that I did not like. The Germans had been ordered to take their cameras and binoculars to the Burgermeisters Office, and I watched as troops fought each other to steal them.

The Americans eventually came and took us to Hildersheim, where they put us in a German Air Force barracks. Here we had a medical and were deloused, whether you were lousy or not. We would line up for a doughnut and a cup of tea, and this lasted for some time, as we had nothing better to do. We were given American ‘C’ rations, but they were nothing like our compo rations. Here I met up with some of my platoon, which was very good.

Now I did something wicked, which I am very sorry about. We were having a walk out at night and I went over a garden fence and got some rabbits out of a hutch. We took them back to camp and someone made a big stew. I did not have any, as I felt so guilty – the lads said it was very good.

Finally, we were flown to an aerodrome near to Berkhamstead, to be met by Royal Air Force men and women, who treated us like some kind of heroes. They were very kind to us. Most of the ex-POW’s were fairly fit, just a little thinner. Having been given new kit we were sent on leave.

After leave I returned to Yeovil where we had tests and a medical. Whilst at Yeovil one of the nicest things was we could spend most weekends at Brighton. We were given an address where we could stay and be looked after. It was a very hot summer and I got very brown. One day I had to go and see the Medical Officer, as I felt I had a bit of a cold. He told me that he did not like my ‘colour’ and that may e what was wrong with me. I had to tell him I had spent most of the summer on Brighton Beach!

I was asked where I wished to go, and I said to my parent unit as a driver, not a clerk. I was sent to Ripley in Derbyshire to learn to drive and learn the task system of maintenance on vehicles. After passing my test I was sent to a W.O’s and N.C.O’s School at Aldershot. After that training I was sent to Chester, where I was driving a lorry. I used to work on a detail at a Prisoner Of War Camp at Knutsford. One day I had to fetch rations from Winsford, which was near to where I used to live. I used to have one or two prisoners with me, and I used to try and get them cigarettes. One time I took one of them home with me for a cup of tea, for which he thanked me.

I was called back to Chester and given a ‘stripe’, now a Lance Corporal I was told to go to Wellington, Shropshire, to teach young soldiers the task system on vehicles. I also did some driving task whilst I was there. One trip I did was to London Docks to take a Generator Set. There were about ten trucks in the convoy, and I looked round for an old soldier, who I told to keep an eye on me. When I got to the Docks I asked him how I did – I will never forget his reply – “It is the first time I have seen London Taxi drivers frightened”, he said. That was good enough for me!

Another task was to go to Scotland Yard to fetch back two soldiers that had gone absent. When they saw I had handcuffs they asked me not to put them on. I told them if they promised not to run away again I would not, and also told them if they did I would make them sorry – I had no trouble.

The task system, as I remember it, was divided into fifteen parts, so over fourteen days all the vehicles were looked at from tyres to tools. This was a happy time in the Army for me, and it was from here that I was de-mobbed. I was a little sad to leave my pals behind, but it was nice to be going home, and not to be asked the famous words, “When are you going back?” It seemed as if most soldiers were asked that when you talk to them. I know they (families) only meant how long are you home for, I hope so anyway!

My oldest brother, was drowned on a Japanese prison ship, when it was sunk by the Americans. It only had two sailors that were saved. The submarine found them the next day, which is when they discovered what they had done.

My second brother came home safe and sound from Burma.

My youngest brother came home safe and sound from the Navy.

We had saying in the British Army;

“If the Germans flew over, the British took cover.

If the British flew over, the Germans took cover.

If the Yanks flew over, everyone took cover!”

NOTES.

[1] 168721. Maj. R. Ashford, MC. A-Company. K.I.A: 04/02/43.

[2] Lieut, P.D.H. Street, Pte. D.J. Reid and Pte. L.A.G. Shelley were all killed on the 09/10/42.

[3] 4455745. Pte. R. Hutchinson. 2 Platoon, A-Company.

[4] 3247104. Cpl. Menzies. H.W.D.

[5] Pte. J.F. Handford. Died at sea 09/11/42.

[6] Not very likely, and Padre Murdo Ewen Macdonald’s account is in his own autobiography.

[7] Possibly 2061193. Sgt. S. Sutton. North Africa and Sicily, POW.

[8] 7043896. Sgt. F. Lyoness. 2 Platoon, A-Company.

[9] This could be any of five men with the name Miller.

[10] 856061. Pte. J.G. Watkins. A-Company.

[11] 41989. Major. J.H.S. Lane. A-Company. (Joined 20/01/43)

[12] 183734. Lieut. J.D. Brayley, MC. A-Company.

[13] 164812. Captain. J. Timothy. A-Company.

[14] Possibly 6397800. Pte. J.A.J. Moore. A-Company.

[15] There were two Sgt. Fisher’s serving at this time.

[16] 4747922. Pte. H. Vardy. 2 Platoon, A-Company.

[17] 1655880. Cpl. H.W.A. Coppard. 2 Platoon, A-Company. KIA: 14/07/43.

[18a] 2766005. Pte. R.C.N. Holt. 2 Platoon, A-Company.

[18b] 4208331. Pte. J. Needham. 1 Platoon, ‘A’ Company.

[19] T/192704. Sgt. I.W. McWilliam. A-Company. KIA: 14/07/43.

[20] 3774446. Pte. W. Fishwick. 2 Platoon, A-Company, later MMG Platoon.

[21] 6856184. Pte. T.A. Gibson. 3 Platoon, A-Company. KIA: 17/09/44.

[22] 6984939. Pte. G. Currie. 2 Platoon, A-Company.

Supplied by Robert Hilton