Charles (Chaz) Keslake served with the 1st Searchlight Battery, 1st Searchlight Regiment and fought during the defence of Calais in 1940 as immortalised in the book by Airy Neave. His subsequent capture and memoirs of the next five years make for an extremely moving read. Chaz was in the habit of recording accurate detail especially dates, times and locations.
In this book, I intend to give an account of my life from the time I enlisted in the British Army, during the Second world War, 1939-1945, until my discharge.
The contents are entirely for my own use or pleasure, but I hope, should anyone read them, they will not find them too boring or badly written, and that they shall not form a wrong impression from them.
In the latter pages also, I may have a few cartoons or something inserted so that the book may also serve as a souvenir.
As most people will remember, just before war was declared in 1939, the government decided to train men in preparation for the coming conflict.
I, being of or just under the stipulated age, had to register for service under the Militia Act.
Actually, I was just under the age limit, but decided to get into the army and get my training done.
Had I not have been in such a hurry, things may have turned out differently, but fate seemed to take a hand in it, so perhaps it is a good thing that one cannot foresee the future course of one’s life.
I registered for service on 3rd June 1939 at an employment exchange in Camden Town, London NW1.
The terms of service were six months with the colours and three and a half years on the reserve.
I received my calling up papers in due course and reported for service on 17th July 1939 to the 22nd Searchlight Militia Depot, Morton Park, Taunton, Somerset.
During the third month of my service, Germany invaded Poland and owing to an agreement, England declared war on Germany.
While at Taunton, I worked in the camp hospital for nearly four months, after which I was posted to the 1st Searchlight Battery, 1st Searchlight Regiment, Kimmel Park, Rhyl, North Wales on 15th January 1940 where I completed my training and received draft leave for France on 2nd March 1940 which expired on 9th March 9th 1940.
We left Rhyl at 10pm on 15th March 1940 travelling overnight from Rhyl to Dover.
After embarking we finally left Dover at about 4pm on 1th March 1940 and landed at Boulogne an hour and a half later.
In France, we took over from a company of Royal Engineers who were billeted thirty kilometres from Boulogne in a Chateaux at a place called Setques (pronounced Set).
I went to France as a driver to the battery Sergeant Major and while at Setques was batman to a Royal Engineer Officer who came to us for a few days, and who incidentally was a famous racing motorist, quite well known at Brooklands.
After a stay at Setque, we moved to Roubaix where we were billeted in a large house which had been commandeered for us.
While at Roubaix our searchlights went into action for the first time with a fair success.
We were not at Roubaix as long as at Setques but during our stay in Roubaix, the Gemans broke through in the Luxembourg area on May 10th and we accordingly retreated to a small village called Gorre (famous during the last war as part of the front line being near Festoubourg) where we gave up our searchlights and were attached to an Infantry division and had to guard bridges etc.
We were only at Gorre a few days when owing to the Germans rapid advance which is now part of the word history, we retreated further back to Calais.
At Calais, we were billeted in a small cottage which had been evacuated by its owners.
The cottage stood at the back of one of Courtaulds (silk manufacturers) huge factories and for a few nights I slept in an air-raid shelter owned by the manager of the factory (who was an Englishman) who told us that the shelter cost £500,000 to build as it was specially ventilated, contained a lavatory, wash basin, and was equipped with a stretcher, besides being fitted with cupboards, deck chairs and forms.
The manager claimed that the shelter could withstand a direct hit from a 500lb bomb.
After a few days at Calais, things began to get a little warm as by now the Germans were again on top of us, so we took up a position as Infantry along the road with Bren and Anti-Tank guns.
By the following day, things had got so warm that we had to leave our billets, and took up another excellent position on top of a railway embankment nearer the centre of the town.
The position comprised of some of the Rifle Brigade, Kings Royal Rifles, Queen Victoria Rifles, a few men from the Royal Corps of Signals, ourselves, and one or two odd men from various regiments.
The first time we took up this position we succeeded in putting a German tank out of action, setting it on fire, and killing itís occupants as they jumped out, at a range I should say of about four hundred yards.
We then retreated from this position, but re-occupied it later.
Just after the second occupation of this position I had a very narrow escape. I was sent to get a lorry, which I had just placed in position, when I was told that tanks were coming up the road behind us, on which information I ran down a nearby cellar, and had just got down there when a shell blew my lorry and the house outside which it was standing out of existence.
No doubt a lucky escape!
From there my troubles began!
After a little more excitement, I arrived on the dock-side and then on to the beach.
The railway station was a complete wreckage, and there were lorries overturned and military and civilian kit strewn everywhere.
I have never seen a town such a complete wreck, as before I left, it was absolutely flat.
On reaching Calais Station, I joined up with various platoons of the infantry regiments and we slept that night in a field covered by our great-coats and gas-capes.
The following morning the battle continued even more fiercely than before. This however proved to be its last day, as at 6 o’clock that evening (Sunday May 26th 1940) I was taken prisoner of war.
The German officer who captured us spoke perfect English, and we were made to throw away our tin helmets, all arms, and any ammunition which we had.
Then what we termed as ’the march’ began.
We had to march from our place of capture, inland towards Germany.
The first night of our capture, we were marched all through the night during which there was a very heavy downpour of rain in which we had to stand still for about two hours owing to an air-raid by our own planes which was then in progress.
The following morning, we were rested in an old factory but were so packed in that we could only sit with our knees under our chins.
I can only remember ever being fed by the Germans about three times during the whole of the march, the food we got we had either to beg or steal.
That is not a very pleasant admission to have to make, but I can assure you that hunger is not a very pleasant thing.
I cannot remember the exact details of the march, but I will write them as they come to mind.
We were marched for three weeks, at the end of which we boarded a train comprising of cattle trucks, at Cambrai and started for Germany.
While marching, the French women were very good to us giving us everything they could and welcoming us in every village and town we passed through.
In several of the women’s attempts to give us food or water, they were invariably hit with the butts of our guard’s rifles or their buckets of water kicked over, however, in spite of these atrocities they were still determined to help us.
On the third day of the march, we were caught in another heavy downpour of rain and I can assure you I got really wet, as I only had my battle-dress on, having had the rest of my kit blown up in the lorry at Calais.
That night, still very wet, we were all packed in a church in which I was fortunate enough to get myself a chair but it was most uncomfortable as my clothes were still very wet and my trousers stuck to my legs.
On again during the next day until we came to a large football stadium, only to stop for a few hours during which we received a few hard biscuits and a drop of watery soup but as there were still very large puddles and the ground was very soggy, there was not much rest here.
On leaving the stadium we marched twenty five kilometres to Doullons (Douai) where we were once again packed into an old civilian prison.
As we marched so we multiplied in numbers, so that by the time we reached Doullons (Douai) we had with us some Belgians and French Morrocans.
I shall never forget this prison, the reason for which I will not explain, but we really were having some bad times.
In this prison, I picked up with two ambulance drivers, and we planned to escape shortly after leaving here.
We left the prison and had marched some distance when our chance came to escape - and we took it.
