Re: battle for arnhem....
As the days went by, the noise became greater and greater, it seemed almost continuous. Lack of rest and sleep was a problem and perhaps this accounts for why I, like many others, find the time sequence confused. From this dream time I have one rather silly memory.
One afternoon, early in this chaotic activity, we were wanting to get casualties away to the dressing station. No one was sure, at that time, whether the dressing station was in or out of our lines so, there being some let up in the ‘stonk’, I was to go in a Red Cross painted jeep to see what was happening. I was called to the Command Room, where General Urquart’s ADC (personal assistant) emphasized to me how useful it would be if I could note the various enemy positions! I remember that I set off, jolly pleased to be able to get around a bit more. I certainly do not remember whether I was able to report anything of value, but I do have a silly memory of a pang of conscience as to whether it was quite correct to report any military information from a Red Cross jeep. So much for memories!
As the days went by, the noise and the activity seemed to increase, as did our confidence that the 30 Corps would eventually relieve us. Monday 25th seemed much as usual till early evening, when a staff officer came to inform me of the decision to evacuate across the Rhine that night and ‘presenting the General’s compliments’ asked me to stay behind and look after the wounded. I accepted this as necessary. Last thing before leaving, he bought me a map showing the evacuation routes, so that I would be better able to find and deal with the casualties of the withdrawl.
That night the regimental aid post was relatively empty for during the day we had evacuated many of our patients through the lines. The noise however gradually increased as 30 Corps artillery put down an extremely heavy barrage to accompany the more sporadic ‘local’ firing, with the appropriate German response. To me it seemed not only to be getting louder but also to be coming more on top of me. Eventually there was a lull in the casualty inflow, presumable because of the evacuation from the area around, so I took the opportunity to lie down on the floor. I must have been so tired that, although the noise was getting louder and nearer until I was expecting it to completely encompass me, I fell fast asleep.
I awoke about dawn, I think because it was so quiet, in fact it seemed unreal. I checked the casualties in the regimental aid post and then went outside in the uncanny quiet. I first started my tour around the regimental aid post. There were a number of Germans around, including some stretcher-bearers. As I was widening my search I was somewhat surprised to see the assistant director of medical services drive up in a jeep. I never did ask him where he came from! He took over my maps of the evacuation routes, said that he would deal with these as he had the jeep, leaving me to spend the day collecting the local casualties and putting them into ambulances or trucks for evacuation. During the course of my searches, I had come across the royal artillery trailer with which I had originally left the UK, so when I had finally finished my collection of casualties, I went back to examine it. I found that although it was pretty badly damaged, quite miraculously the small pack of my personal things was still there, unharmed, so I collected it before the Germans got it and must have been one of the few POWs from Arnhem who had a clean shirt etc.!
Eventually the central area was cleared of all British personnel, so I too climbed onto the last truck and trundled through the sad tattered streets of Arnhem and on to Appledoorn.
Here, quite unknown to me was Lt Col Hereford Royal Army Medical Core, who had earlier come across the Rhine in an attempt to negotiate with the Germans to allow some medical supplies to be sent over for our troops. He had not succeeded in that, but had succeeded in getting them to agree to set up some accommodation for our wounded. The place chosen was a block in an empty pre-war Dutch barracks. There were no facilities but with incredible negotiating skill, helped by a German fear of an impending further allied advance, he gradually built from nothing the beginnings of a dressing station, even the primitive basis of a hospital. The Germans tried to keep us isolated but the Dutch people were quite wonderful, gathering at the gates trying to pass in food and what limited medical supplies they had. I shall never forget some nurses standing there with some bottles of much needed blood which were eventually allowed through.
Intense negotiation gradually got some rudimentary facilities such as cooking and a few medical supplies. It was my fist introduction to proper bandages and ‘feltstuf’, paper substitute for cotton wool and similar dressings. Although pleased to get even these, I never really got used to them.
Despite lack of facilities we were soon running as a sort of dressing station even with some limited operating. Needless to say the Germans were anxious to get as many as possible away to POW camps. Everything possible was done to delay this but after they had dispatched one group, including some still quite poorly injured, on a typical cattle wagon train, we created so much fuss that the next group was put on a proper hospital train. To my great disappointment I was included in this group, for like most others we were still expecting that 2nd Army would soon be coming through but it did mean that once again I was lucky and had a very easy trip to the ‘famous’ Stalag 11B. But that is the subject of another memory.
Just as postscript, in 1992 the Airborne Museum in Oosterbeek arranged for my glider pilot John McGeogh and me to meet there after all those years!
It has always seemed to me that the real heroes were the wonderful Dutch people, who as always fought so quietly but so tenaciously for a worthy cause.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/stories/78/a5516778.shtml
Your photos always come out looking life like and your set ups are always great also.
