Trooper 14259421 John Douglas (Dougie) served in the 1st Lothian & Border Horse Yeomanry from 1942 to 1946 and saw action in France, Germany and on Walcheren Island in Operation Infatuate.
The Lothian and Border Horse Yeomanry was part of the 79th Armoured Division. This was formed in October 1942 under the command of Major-General Percy Hobart. Its badge was a bull’s head in an upturned triangle with a yellow background. The Division was made up of the following in June 1944: 27th Armoured Brigade,
35th Tank Brigade,
30th Armoured Brigade (of which the 1st Lothian & Border Horse Yeomanry was part),
1st Assault Brigade RE.
During the Invasion of Europe, the Lothian’s had 17 men killed, most of whom were Doug’s personal friends, 90 Officers and Other Ranks wounded, and 16 Officers and Other Ranks Missing in Action. 4 Sherman Gun Tanks and 36 Sherman Crab Tanks were destroyed.
Thursday August 20th 1942
Call up to army No. 12 Primary Training Centre Bodmin, Cornwall.
I left Coalville in the early morning with three more local lads. We travelled by train and arrived at Bodmin late evening, when we were met by Training Centre staff and marched to the barracks.
Once in barracks we were given army numbers. Mine was 14259421 and the rank of Private. After a meal in the Mess Room (what a meal! — putting it bluntly it looked like slops, everything in the one mess tin; starter, main course and sweet. I bought my food then from the local shops or NAAFI until my money ran out. Funny how the army food then became more agreeable!), we were taken to be kitted out - nothing made to measure — blousons, shirts, trousers, underwear, boots, puttees, webbing, mess tin, gas mask, helmet - but somehow it all managed to fit. The uniform was at first uncomfortable and coarse against the skin, but after a while you became use to it. We also found out later that it helped to attract the local young ladies who liked to see a man in uniform - useful for a shy, young man from a mining town. Next to the barrack room, bunk beds with wooden base followed by a trip to a straw barn with a palliasse and pillowcase to be filled with straw for your mattress and pillow along with two blankets - what more could you want!
Friday August 21st 1942
Reveille at 6:00 am and we met our NCO Instructors Sgt Bates, Cpl Lack and L/C Hipwell.
The next six weeks were all about marching, rifle drill, gunnery lessons ie stripping and assembling the Bren Light Machine Gun, firing the Lee Enfield .303 rifle, map reading, grenade throwing and Saturdays were inoculation days.
During this time we were given tests to decide which branch of the army we were or would be most suitable for. I was quite pleased to be selected for the Royal Armoured Corps, as I didn't fancy the infantry.
Training
Along with others I was posted to the 55 Training Regiment RAC at Farnborough. Once again most of the training was about marching and arms drill but after a while we started to learn about tank gunnery, wireless etc. Also those that could not drive were given driving lessons. As I could already drive, I enjoyed this - showing off I think you call it!
Thursdays at the 55th was the Adjutant’s Parade Day. All of the squadrons would parade on the Square with the bands playing. The Adjutant would inspect one squadron each week, and then we were marched off to our different duties.
Friday night was spent cleaning the barrack room, each man being given an allocation of polish to clean around and under their bed space. Saturday morning was inspection day with all of your kit being laid out on your bed. You were inspected, at attention, by the Orderly Officer and Troop Sergeant for uniformity and cleanliness of kit, uniform and personal grooming.
On leaving 55 Training Regiment in December 1943 I joined ‘A’ Squadron the 1st Lothian & Border Horse Yeomanry, a Scottish Regiment (it must have been the name!) who at that time were at Duncombe Park, Helmsby, Yorkshire and were in the 42nd Armoured Division. We were only there a few days when we moved out on Exercise Spartan.
This lasted for two or three weeks and when this finished we ended up at Hope Belisha Barracks, Warminster. I was put in the Reconnaissance Troop who used Bren Gun Carriers as their vehicles. Once again my previous driving experience came in handy and after a couple of tests was allocated to a vehicle as driver.
Our Troop Officer, LT Hamish Robb, used to take us off on exercises etc and often we would end up at Cerne Abbis in Dorset spending the night in the village institute and Red Lion pub where the locals would play ‘Shove Halfpenny’.
Once every week or so, four or five of us had to report to the Cookhouse in the evening to peel sacks of potatoes ready for use the next day. Not the nicest way to spend an evening, but someone had to do it. The system of serving meals was that 14 men sat a table and enough food to feed them all was brought to the table. The man at the top of the table had to dish it up and then pass it down the line. This was OK if the man dishing up was good at counting out 14 even portions, but if he wasn’t someone would end up going hungry! An Orderly Officer came around very mealtime asking if anyone had any complaints. Unless they were very serious you were best to keep them to yourself.
The Sherman Tank
I learned to drive the Sherman on Orford Ranges, a large area taken over by the government for war practice. Here, replicas were made of German beaches and strongholds, the Siegfried and Maginot Lines. I passed my test and became a DMAFV - Driver Mechanic of Armoured Fighting Vehicles.
Other times were spent on Salisbury Plains and at times were quite exciting. Here we would put into practice our training — doing mock battles, learning tactics and manoeuvres. We then moved from Warminster to Adderbury, Oxford and from there to Wickham Market in Suffolk. There we lost our Bren Gun Carriers (small, lightly armoured, personnel carriers with a mounted machine gun) in exchange for Sherman Tanks and joined the 79th Armoured Division. We were to specialise in flailing — Sherman tanks which had a boom and chains fitted to front (codenamed ‘Crabs’). The chains rotated and ‘flailed’ the ground, exploding the buried mines and hopefully clearing the way for the following infantry and us. We were also armed with a 75 mm gun and a machine gun.
After being on an Exercise (or in action), no matter how long you had been without food or rest, my first job was to refuel the tank, the gunner to clean and check his guns, and the wireless operator to make sure his set and other equipment were in working order.
The Sherman was nicknamed ‘Ronson’ because it would go up like a lighter if hit by an enemy shell. It was fast and versatile, but poorly armoured, so we learnt to get our shots in first. Later, in France, I lost good friends who were unable to get out of blazing Shermans.
The crew consisted of five men — a crew commander who was either an officer or an N.C.O. Then there was the gunner and the wireless operator also acted as a gun loader when required. In the 2 front compartments were the driver and co-driver, who on an ordinary (gun) Sherman had a mounted Browning machine gun to use if required. Everyone of the crew members had to learn at least 2 trades i.e. wireless op — gunner; driver — wireless op; gunner - driver etc. This was so that we all had a certain amount of knowledge of each other’s skills, and in an emergency could step into the breach.
Away from the Regiment I had 2 courses in gunnery, one at Lulworth Cove in Dorset, and one at Pembroke Dock in Wales, where we used to fire our high explosive rounds into the sea. We were taught how to sight and target the enemy, and how to give covering/support fire for the infantry.
From Wickham Market we moved around a bit finishing in barracks at Aldershot. Performances at the Garrison Theatre, Aldershot, always started with the compere saying “By kind permission of Capt. Harwood” (the Entertainment Officer), and then went on to say who would be performing that night, finishing with “which you can only get at your own theatre, the Garrison Theatre — Aldershot!” And was there on D-Day 6th June 1944 so had no part in the initial invasion. Unbeknown to us at the time, but we had been earmarked to support the Yanks on Omaha and Utah Beaches, but they declined, wanting to make their landing all American. We all know now how they suffered when they landed through lack of specialised armour.
The Invasion of Europe
A few days later we moved down to Gosport, loaded tanks etc onto American tank carrying ships and went over to France. This was the first time that I had ever left England. I was 20 years old and going to war.
12th July 1944. The landings for us were quiet, thankfully, not like the scenes of horror that would have met the first troops. However, there was still plenty of devastation around — destroyed vehicles, properties and of course dead soldiers and civilians. For a week or two we were camped in a field outside a village called Crepan. Rather boring just hanging around but whilst there, my Troop was disbanded and the crews joined other Troops.
July/August 1944
Lined up near Caen for our first taste of real action, everyone putting on a brave face, no one admitting how scared he felt. It was a bit cramped inside the tank, what with 5 men, personal possessions and weapons, shells, radio set, ammunition for the turret browning etc. It was a good job that I was only 5’ 3” and 9 stones at the time! With all of the hatches closed it was also smelly from the engine fumes, cordite from the gun’s, and perspiration and fear of the crew.
We moved off at night, the artillery firing red and green tracers to keep us going in the right direction. Enemy machine gun bullets and shrapnel banged against the turret — there was a lot of noise and what must have been organized confusion. When driving a Sherman with the hatches down, your own visibility is limited to what you can see through the small periscope; having to rely on the tank commander for much of your directions. Fortunately, Sergeant Stead was good at his job. Nothing serious happened to us, and I think everyone was pleased when it got light and found themselves in one piece.
On then through the Falaise Gap, the scene of very heavy fighting where the Canadian Armoured Brigades, supported by some British detachments, and the RAF had caught the retreating Germans in a night advance. All 3 of our Squadrons were involved here in giving fire support to the Canadians during their assault. No mines were encountered, but many lives were lost before we were able to take the high ground above Falaise. There were bodies and bits of bodies everywhere - broken men and horses and the remains of fighting machines. The Germans, I was later informed, lost or had captured 200 tanks, over 300 artillery guns, more than 2500 motor vehicles and countless horse —drawn transport. No matter how carefully I drove the tank, I couldn't help but go over some of the poor souls — their bodies swollen by the sun and rain would literally explode with the slightest of touches. The smell of death and destruction stayed with me for some time. Cleaning down the tank later on that day wasn’t a very pleasant job.
On then to the channel ports, encountering sporadic fighting, different Troops of the regiment taking part, but no mines were encountered so no flailing. During the next month or two we were on the move almost daily chasing the enemy but with very few encounters, and therefore, thankfully few casualties.
So on through Holland and Belgium to Blankenberg, a seaside town though we never saw the sea whilst there. What we did do was waterproof the tank by day to protect it from the effects of the sea water on the engine and weapons in preparation for a forthcoming advance, and at night go round to Madam Van de Sand, an old lady who had adopted the crew and would cook us lovely fish and chips, whilst we would try to give them things they were short of.
November 1944
Operation Infatuate — the Invasion of Walcheren Island
My personal D-Day was November 1st, the invasion of Walcheran Island, which was defended by about 10,000 enemy personnel; army, navy and air force. We were loaded onto landing craft with other members of the 4th Commando Brigade and the 30th Armoured Brigade, and set off for the island. Seasickness and nerves were terrible. Support ships pounded the coastal guns and defences.
The island is below sea level and surrounded by a wall, which was defended by heavy guns, and underwater and beach obstacles. Mine fields, pillboxes with machine guns and flame throwers were positioned amongst the dunes. The RAF bombed the sea defences and breached the walls so that water covered low ground when the tide was in. Unfortunately, the civilians couldn’t be pre-warned about the raid so quite a number were caught in the flooding. On the boat going over I met a lad named Bill Wilde who lived nearby and went to Bridge Road School in Coalville at the same time as I did. It was nice to see a familiar face at a time like this.
After landing on the beach, which came under heavy shelling, we had to breach the obstacles at the Westkapelle dyke, clear the mine fields and then give fire support to the Commandos assaulting the town. There was a lot of fierce fighting coming from the centre of the town, especially from around the church tower (used as an observation post by the Germans). Heavy tank fire from one of our Sherman’s put a stop to this. We then made our way to a place called Domburg where another fortified tower and concrete positions were giving strong resistance. Again, fire from a Sherman’s 75 mm gun neutralized this action. We stayed in Domburg for a few days on guard duty, but there was no trouble as the place was flooded most of the time due to the sea wall damage. Part of the squadron had gone ahead on to higher ground and we joined them later, but our tank was left behind — it got swamped, along with another when the high tide came in - maybe it's still there. When the island had been taken we came back to a place called Flushing, where a second invasion force had landed at the same time as we did. From here Buffalo Amphibious Vehicles took us back to Ostend then by road to Blankenberg. A Victory Parade was held shortly after the capture and all those who took part in the invasion were on a march past.
My next recollection is being at Nijmegen in a field near the 'Bridge Too Far' and to see the troop carrying planes and gliders being towed to Arnhem where, unfortunately, they suffered a heavy beating and were only rescued when an Infantry Regiment was sent to help out.
We went into Arnhem a few days later and all was calm by then, thank goodness. We also went to Aachen to help the Yanks in case they ran into land mines. But after a friendly fire incident when the American artillery killed two of our lads, and one or two more injured, we were withdrawn.
December 1944
Winter is now with us - snow and ice and cold nights, so where possible we are billeted in houses. Near Christmas the Yanks were engaged in battles with the Nazis in the Ardennes Forest and were having a pretty rough time of it. Our Squadron was sent to the edge of the forest in case any Germans broke through. So Christmas Day and the rest of the Christmas holiday was spent in a field doing nothing except trying to keep warm - Merry Christmas! At the end of this exercise we were taken to the baths at a German coalmine, given a good ration of rum and, as Scots celebrate the New Year rather than Christmas, things worked out quite well! Into the New Year of 1945 and for a while we were at a place called Metelan in Belgium and the crew were billeted on a family who were very good to us, and to whom I promised to write, but sadly never did.
We crossed the Rhine into Germany for a spell, and then back into Holland and were going towards their ports, when we were told the war was over. Germany had surrendered. This was great news, especially when our Troop were the first to get leave, giving Mum and Dad and the rest of the family quite a nice surprise.
Back off leave I rejoined the Squadron at a place called Warendorf. Instead of being a member of a Tank Crew I found myself the driver of a 3 ton lorry which, by the way, I got done for speeding by two Red Caps who recorded me doing 32.4 mph in a 30 mile zone, using only stop watches and 2 points of measure! This cost me having to go before the CO who found me three days pay!
From Warendorf we went to a place called Hankensbuttel in Lower Saxony, and part of the time was spent ferrying displaced personnel from one camp to another. The rest of the days were taken up with the usual army routine, drill, PT, guard duties and washing up after the cooks in the kitchen, but by and by things weren't too bad.
Later in the year we were told that our Regiment was to be disbanded and we would be posted to other units. I along with a few others was posted to the 13/18th Royal Hussars (Queen Mary's Own) who were in barracks at a town called Wolfenbuttel. For the rest of my service I was an Officer’s Batman.
I was released from regular service in the Army in March 1947.
