The Diary of Private TGD Lewis

Private Pendleton, the Brigadier and Oolitic Limestone!

Any boyish enthusiasm at the arrival of the " big day" has been, to say the least, weakened by a rude awakening at 03.30.

Not long after, we left for Lyneham and arrived about 07.30 only to learn that the flight was not until 11.00. After checks and documentation were quickly dealt with, we spent two hours waiting for the flight.

I am writing 30 minutes after take-off. The conditions are cattle-like: the whole Coy and its equipment are jammed aboard a noisy Hercules. We have all been issued with sick bags, and no doubt some will find them useful during the flight.

A lot has happened in the past two days. Our flight lasted one hour and 20 minutes and we all thought things would go quickly; but not so. As soon as we got to Gutersloh we had to trek for half a mile with all our kit, and were dumped by movements in a RAF Canteen for two hours with coffee and biscuits. We then made our way to a railhead to be loaded on to cattle trucks; we were promised a journey of 40 minutes but it turned into two hours as the train jolted along with continual stops.

We arrived at the camp a little bad - tempered - I guess the barracks are a battle - group dispersal area. Feeding is done in half - open canteens so that the cold weather could make eating miserable although the temperature has been very mild so far (the temperature drops at night though).

We all felt better for a good meal, having not eaten for 14 hours. The food is excellent compared with some other camps, however, the good facilities stop there. There is running water, but no hot. The lavatorial facilities are somewhat basic. They consist of a row of buckets in a hut where one can go in and socialise whilst doing one's ablutions if one is so inclined. I am afraid I find myself shying away from that place as much as possible. The billets, etc., are typical army. Our first evening in Germany was a night of celebration for the London Jocks. German beer flowed and we all had a good sing - song. Everyone was " very merry " and G Coy was far worse for wear at 06.00 next day!

The day was taken up with packing and kit checks for the exercise and then practising section movements which gradually began to come together. The day also saw my first experience of the 84 mm Carl Gustav Anti-Tank Gun, along with a sub machine gun plus three pouches which all added up to a hellish time. The 84 mm is horrific for carriage as it is extremely heavy.

In the afternoon we had Bn parade with a chat from our General (an Argyll) and a church service; one and a half hours of standing, in all.

After the evening meal we all watched the beating of the retreat which was meant to be under floodlights but consisted of a few lamps which did, however, prove to be somewhat effective. Afterwards we checked our kit, had a few drinks and went to bed. Tomorrow we are going to Paderborn and then on Tuesday we go on the dreaded exercise.

We have just heard that the usual Bn cock-up has occurred as there is only one Chinook, therefore, we have to wait twice as long, for we are on the fourth or fifth flight. It does mean a bit more relaxing though. (I am now writing a day later after a highly eventful 24 hours). The helicopter airlift went well. Trevor, sitting next to me, was sick but we all made a spectacular exit from the aircraft which was flown by Yanks. After all - round defence and reorg, we made our way up in formation escorting the Anti-Tank Gun and its pulling party. After we climbed the hot, sweaty hill (at least for me), we took cover whilst the Officers and NCO's recced the position. Unfortunately, L/Cpl Hatrick managed to fracture his arm near the top of the hill.

We dug in on the edge of the woods. As 84 mm, we had been placed next to the road with HQ on the other side. Digging-in was very nasty as we have had to cut our way through the roots of a big tree behind us. The Engineers came to blow the trenches. It took two explosions for us and still the roots could not be shifted. By the time darkness fell we were only three feet down. After a meal we were all stood to and, as we were a two man trench, had to go on two hours on / two hours off stag until 20.00 until 05.00. I took the first, last and middle stags.

We were holding a bridge (a road really, but the imagination can always take a push) and a regular battle group was to withdraw across it. Between 03.00 and 04.30, 100 tanks and APC's crossed. Very impressive; the mighty Chieftains were gigantic, with big, yellow, flashing lights and thundering engines coming out of the night. By 06.00 the battle group was across and the bridge was blown (by a thunderflash).

We then had to trek up the hill to the woods where we were loaded on to four-tonners. The whole of 8 Pln was on one and we had to wear our full kit and weapons. We were on for four hours with the sitting around and waiting to go, which added up to a fairly uncomfortable experience. We were part of Task Force Charlie, a convoy of 700-odd vehicles.

I think the average man on the street would have found life tough so far in the sense that our whole way of life is in our kit and we carry everything we own and need. Also he would find the short bursts of not more than two hours' sleep at a time, having to be ready to move any time of the day or night, the long periods of waiting, sleeping in the open, etc, very difficult, but we all accept that we have had it very easy so far. Things will get fairly hard over the next few days. Our Pln seems to have welded together very well, especially our Section which I only really see. Trevor and I are carrying the heavy equipment; Martin Felstead is Section Commander, Dave Groombridge the 2IC, John Delaney is my Number two on the 84 mrn and J.J. is Trevor's Number two on the GPMG - he has an incredible ability to dig trenches so Trevor is very lucky. Ronnie Hall and Alan Pendleton are the riflemen; other people we see are the Pln HQ in the form of Mr Scott-Barrett as Pln Commander and Mark Ormiston as the Sgt. Steve Broomfield is our signaller and Ken Pudney is the runner and operator of the 2-inch mortar.

We spend most of our time talking about women (the major topic) good, soft beds and recapping old experiences and we generally have a lot of laughs. Events in themselves have run reasonably smoothly so far: we move at a few minutes' notice and all seems to be successful. The Bn organisation seems to have got into gear as well. The people I am most impressed with so far though are the Regulars. A typical example was yesterday when the Bn moved into the farm outhouses. No one knew we were coming yet two hours later the Bn had been fed with a hot meal.

So far then, everyone seems to be happy with no major mishaps and a tough few days ahead.

After a couple of hours kip we suddenly found out that we had 40 minutes to eat and move out so, after wolfing down a chicken curry, we were off before dark and down to the convoy. We were loaded on to four-tonners without canvas and had a one and a half hours' drive to about two kms beyond Lambspringe; a very cold journey but we were soon warmed up by a one and a half km haul up a hill through the forest in full kit and with the 84 mm. After our little evening stroll in the pitch black, we were all a little worse for wear. However, we had to start digging, so off we went in the pitch black and I attempted to split lock our trench in a position overlooking three tracks for anti-tank work. Two hours later we hit the sack and I was roused at 00.30 for patrolling sentry duty for an hour. I must say, the woods were very cold and spooky at the dead of night. It was a great relief to get back into my nice, warm sleeping bag at 01.30.

The digging-in has not been good. The trench is 12 ft long so that we can put in overhead accommodation. After about one ft we had hit a dead-solid rock of limestone which takes a lot of work. We have been digging since 09.00 and it is now 05.00 with no sign of an end to it. However, the Engineers should be along soon to blow them, hopefully. There are a lot of sore hands around. I put up a basha this afternoon for overhead protection as I think it will rain tonight. It is a very cool and damp day.

The rest of the day continued uneventfully and it was not long before dark and a hot meal. However, after that we were free to relax in a tactical sort of a way. The only other event was doing stag with the GPMG in the Section Command trench from 22.00 to 23.30. The idea is that should any enemy appear we should blast away on the GPMG until everyone is mustered to fight the enemy off. I always find stag the worst part of a soldier's life as it is very cold, very lonely and very eerie as one is often deluded into "seeing" and "hearing" things that do not exist.

As Bn Flying Squad, we are very likely to be called to that very spot so we had to dig a proper Pln position. As the 84 mm man my trench is closest to the track so it is very likely that I will have a tank rolling over the top of me. So after some panic digging all afternoon, the rest of the Section came down to dig the position; special attention was given to mine and was reinforced with Iogs and we gave it depth. The digging went on well into the night - and we did not get back to our main area until well after midnight. We in the working party that stayed behind worked the Coy jack hammers in the pitch black. There was a good atmosphere about the whole thing and we all got back absolutely exhausted after 48 hours' solid digging.

After two hours' waiting, we came across a piece of action. An APC thundering towards us. We fired at it and technically killed it. It was in fact the PSI's riding it in cowboy style. I believe they had captured it. We are still hanging on assuming the enemy are going to try and recapture the town. The day had started at 02.30 with the news that the Engineers were going to rebuild a track and that they needed infantry sentries, so our Section was trundled out about 1 km. The whole operation took three and a half hours and we got back to the position about 06.00. The night was absolutely freezing and we have kept our NBC suits on until now, just to keep warm, even though we were given the nuclear stand down last night. C/Sgt Norton has not forgiven me for blowing up his APC. It was the culmination of the two-day patrol for the PSI's and they had captured it. At midday we were withdrawn from the village and, not having had a meal for 24 hours, we all made our way slowly back to the position. Everyone was pretty sluggish and we were all very tired.

We wolfed down our late breakfast and it was not long before we were called out again. 7 Pln had been wiped out by notional artillery fire (without having fired a shot apparently). We rushed down to fill the gap in the line. On the way we accidentally blew up a friendly APC!

When we got there 7 Pln and the Anti-Tanks, all of them notionally dead, were in a jeering mood. The enemy Chieftains and APC's could he seen forming-up half a mile away and then suddenly they came tearing across. Through the battle Trevor fired 1,500 rounds on the GPMG. The mechanism is, to say the least, clogged! Everyone was blasting and the Colonel was behind maniacally egging us all on; eventually we discovered the death toll after two attacks by the enemy: four Chieftains, seven APC's and lots of men. As soon as it was over it was back to the position for a hot meal. We were told that we would be going back to Staumuhle Camp that night and that we were to fill in our trenches - always a moment of relief although it is a shame to see all that work go to waste. However, Mr Scott-Barrett came back from an "O" Group at 18.00 to inform us cordially that we would not be leaving until the next morning. We were pretty fed up. We were to withdraw from the position at 21.00 to a RV point then come back by lorry to pick up large packs and heavy kit. I was left alone to guard it all but I stayed in my sleeping bag and slept, as it was a freezing night. Eventually, we got down to the main Coy position and most went straight to bed. I sat round a fire with Derek Arthur and lain Robertson and we chatted and drank Bovril until 02.00.

We got back to camp at 17.30 and after the luxury of a real and hot meal had a long, hot shower. It had to be the most exquisite experience and one that I savoured. We then had the Coy Smoker, an organised booze up for the whole Coy, with a good sing-song. However, I think most of us were far too tired to enjoy it fully and we got to bed at 01.30; a real bed!

11.00 – Tickle test. Three miles of unrelenting, hellish running for us all. Quite exhausting considering that we had just come off the exercise.

12.00 - Pay parade!

14.00 - 16.00 - in armoury packing weapons.

16.30 - The CO's farewell. Colonel Murray is ceremonially " chucked-out " by the PSI's with us all lining the route. The rest of the day left free for G Coy to do its worst!

24.00 flight back in VC10 in which I am now writing. Absolute luxury compared to the Hercules we flew out in. We should be back at 59 Buckingham Gate by 05.00

This is a true story!  We had spent the last two days digging in the side of a hill with normal entrenching tools through six inches of topsoil followed by solid limestone.  There were no Diggers / High Cycle Gear or PE available so we dug it with picks which chipped out 3 inches at a time and shovels to lift the spoil.  In the end, we all dug full two / three man trenches with full overhead cover!  Most of us had our office workers hands cut to ribbons by the experience.

So the Brigadier (name anyone?) decides to pay us a visit.  A regular soldier who possibly saw the TA as a bit of a novelty.  Lt Simon Scott-Barrett showed him around the various platoon trenches.

He stopped at a trench occupied by Private Pendleton.  The Brigadier observes to the soldiers that the trenches have not been "revetted" (reinforced with angle irons and wriggly tin to stop them caving in with the blast of a nearby shell explosion).

"Oh no need Sir!  You see this isn't ordinary soil, this is solid Oolitic limestone!  It's mechanical properties are ideally suited to absorbing shock waves.  There is no way that the side would ever collapse".

The Brigadier is completely taken aback.  For one thing he is not used to Private soldiers questioning his words and for another, this soldier seemed to know what he was talking about!

"I see" the Brigadier replied.  "And what do you do for a living in civvie street?" (standard question number 1!).

"I am a Civil Engineer - I build bridges" replied Private Pendleton.

The Brigadier beat a hasty retreat, knowing when he had met his match!

As an interesting post script to this, Simon Scott-Barrett tells me that the Brigadier subsequently "dines out" on this story with every TA regimental mess he attends - saying be careful what you say to the TA!

I would be happy to render the script more accurate if the participants will forward their versions!