My father Jim Harling wrote his life story before he died in 2010 at the age of 92. He wrote many stories of his army years and during WW2.
He served with the 3rd Battalion, Coldstream Guards during WW2 in North Africa and Italy. He was personally interviewed and chosen by Commanding Officer Major James S. Coats, MC, later Lieutenant-Colonel Sir James Coats, Bt, along with other Guardsmen from the Holding and Training Battalion, to be part of a small company in a new organisation. They had to have no serious misconduct on their record and their training and fitness had to be of the highest standard. The special force of five officers and 124 Guardsmen was to be known as Coats Mission. One small Company of Coldstream Guards was made up of three platoons, each of which consisted of six or seven men. Lt Thompson was in charge of my father's platoon, No 3 platoon. Lieutenants Liddell and Darall were in charge of the other two platoons.
Their unique and historic role would be in the personal protection of The Sovereign as the Royal family’s special bodyguard and to move them in the event of an invasion to one of four safe houses, which was known only to the Officers at that time.
My father remembered a lot of snow over the Christmas and New Year period and they were able to skate on the frozen lake not far from York cottage in which they were billeted. The Big House at Sandringham was closed up in the cold weather and the Royal Family would use Appleton House, a smaller house nearby, which was surrounded by barbed wire. Guards were posted on all entrances. The large bunker constructed to shelter the Royal Family in an air attack was never used.
The Royal family had two farms, one Jersey herd and one Friesian. When it came to pheasant and partridge shooting season, my father and others would beat the bushes to make the birds fly. King George V1, who was a magnificent shooter, some gentry and our officers waited to shoot the birds as they flew into the air. Meanwhile, Guardsman Harry Cormac and my father were wandering along talking, their beating sticks held under their arms, both oblivious to what they were doing until a voice came thundering at them, “Get down you bloody fools, or you’ll get shot.” It was King George. They had strayed in front of the guns!
The princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret, appeared from somewhere and my father forgot who started snowballing first, though he does remember that he managed to throw two snowballs before ASM Jack came and stopped them and told them to get on parade.
Whilst at Sandringham my father went to the little church there, along with the Royal family, though being a Roman Catholic he should not have attended a Church of England. King George would inspect the Company on Sundays before the Church Service and my father later learnt that he referred to them as his private arm’, which he felt was a real honour.
My father met my mother in Hyde Park in 1942 and they didn't meet again until 1944. They married in 1945.
