Company Sergeant Major Frederick C Pengilly

It is with great sadness to inform everybody especially surviving members of the 13 bn that my Dad passed away today (16/9/2012). Dad was a member of the MMG platoon and one of Dixie Dean's oily rags. It was only 3 weeks ago he heard of Dixie's passing last month I hope they meet up again in that eternal DZ.

'Dixie' Dean

After a wash, shave and breakfast, I felt much better, and since there was nothing happening, I walked across to Battalion H.Q., enquiring after the missing members of the Platoon. I was surprised to find Jack Watson there, until he explained he was standing in for Roy Leyland, who had been called to help out at Brigade, since both the Brigade-Major( Mike Brennan) and Ted Lough (D.A.Q.), were wounded. "Claude" Milman was acting O.C. A Company, with Bill Davidson as temporary Adjutant. I asked what other casualties there had been, and learnt that both my two particular friends in the Battalion were out of action - "Joe" Hodgson was missing, and Freddie Skeate was a walking wounded. The only Officer known to have been killed was Chris Selwyn of B Company - in action for the first time. Of my missing gunners, the gun team of Corporal Tony Cabrera and L/Corporal "Ginger" Langton, were dead, while Sergeant Frank Kenny, and L/Corporal Fred Pengelly were reported wounded. Eric Barlow told me later, that the two young N.C.Os had been part of his group, who had all landed in the trees, and subsequently fought their way through to join the battalion. He warned them that carrying the gun and tripod on their shoulders made them an obvious target for snipers, and advised them to abandon these. They refused to do so, and were indeed picked off, as a result.

The Casualty Collecting Post was in a large barn across the yard, so I walked over, and found Fred (Skeate) standing outside, unconcernedly smoking his pipe. After his shrapnel wound had been cleaned and dressed the previous day, he returned to his Company, but now that all was quiet, was being evacuated to the Field Hospital, and indeed as we spoke, his name was called, and off he went. Inside the barn, I found Fred Pengelly, lying on a stretcher. He looked pale, but was in good spirits, and on my return to the Platoon area, I sent Tommy Stephenson, his pal in the section, to have a word with him.