[2002] SID’S WAR

0016 - Sidney Lane War Diary 27

[this is an extract of the war diary, 'An Ordinary War', by my uncle (Sid Lane, my mother's brother) to Rome and the Arno] 

6/9/44 

I'm tired. No I'm not. I'm just lazy, bone idle. I have not got the energy, check, I have no spirit to stir myself to any effort what-so-ever. Work of any kind is abhorrent. I dodge it, and not successfully either. To do that successfully no-one should realise you are dodging it. But they do. They all know. They do it themselves. The army life has worn us all out. Continued work on unnecessary jobs has forced to regard all work as not worthwhile. 

I want to pack up writing this and just lay down and sleep, and yet I have done nothing but lay on my back reading all day. What an attitude of mind to get into and I thought recording the events of the last three months would give me some interest. 

Well we stayed at Foggia until the 4 June during which time we had no action. Nothing but the monotony of the gun site grind. The G.L. were used to gather data for the Yankee meteorological station [presumably tracking weather balloons], for bombers over Hungary and Russia. That was the only interesting part. Foggia itself was a hole. It had been bombed to blazes and the dust and smell made trips there uninviting. 

We left for Anzio 4 days after Rome fell and on the day of the move we were told the 2nd. Front [the Normandy landings] had started. All that day the DRs [despatch riders] raced up and down the column giving us news as it came in. We were in high spirits and we were on the road again. 

We reached Naples at 3.00 a.m. on the 5th. We left again on another all night move (no lights) at 6.00p.m. and reached Anzio at 9.00 a.m.

We had been in action two days and had fired each night when I was told to prepare a site for a P.F. MkIII. I could hardly believe it. So far siting requirements of a MkII had necessitated being above ground, but now we had to dig a hole five feet deep, 14 ft. wide and 27 ft. long with a ramp to lower the instrument down. It had to be ready in 48 hrs. and was some undertaking. I thought if this has to be done on every site then to hell with a P.F. But when this 27 ft., 15 ton leviathan arrived  it changed my mind, It's a beauty. The very latest spark-gap model. We were in action and firing with it that night. A major and a captain came with it and they with myself and the T.I. formed the crew. Then came the training. It was great. The thing is revolutionary and all our old ideas went by the board. An accuracy of plus or minus 8 minutes of arc on Bg.[bearing] and plus or minus 2 yds. in Range. Inside is one mass of dials, knobs, switches, motors etc., built of steel and with padded bulk heads. When the deep whine of the alternators starts it's like being in a submarine (or so I imagine). We had only got one team really trained  when on the 24th. we left Anzio for Civitavecchia. 

The move from Anzio was another night move and we leaguered at 3.00 a.m. continuing to Civitavecchia the following morning. (97 miles). 

The ground at the gun site was solid rock so this time there was no digging in of the P.F. We formed an 8 gun site, so 5 Troop are with us again. I welcomed this for despite an addition of 5 more operators I had my hands full. 

We all had more training on the P.F. and were very impressed by its performance.

I managed to get a day's leave and I hitch-hiked to Rome. Rome is so far the only presentable town I have seen in Italy and, although I had little time to see the sights, I enjoyed the trip immensely. 

Civitavecchia is nothing but a heap of rubble and were it not for the opening of the harbour there would have been no reason for our presence. Within two weeks we were away again. The front was on the move and it had been decided to abandon the idea of ever using Civitavecchia as a port, as Leghorn was expected to fall at any time. 

The guns of the Regt. were to assemble at Cecina to await the fall of Leghorn.

It was a night move - I hate them. I started with diarrhoea very soon and dropped out of the column twice and then at midnight I was sick, with terrible pain in the side. I could stand it no longer and I stopped the wagon. 

The M.O.'s orderly took me to the front of the column and when we halted saw me to bed. I slept on my camp bed in the open but by 3.30 a.m. I was so violently ill that they took me to the nearest C.C.S. And there I stayed when the column moved on the next day. I remained there for four days under observation for appendix but after feeding me on pills I was allowed by the Yanks to depart. 

British M.P.s gave me information as to the last whereabouts of my unit which had gone forward as field artillery and I set out to hitch-hike to the front.

At Rosignans I saw the old "White Horse" and found it was the rear party. I heard of the success of our guns. Two 88 mms [German artillery] knocked out, one Jerry O.P. and two mortar positions. It was decided to leave me in charge of the rear party as I was still pretty groggy and most of the men went forward to help with the guns which were moving in support of the infantry up in the mountains out-flanking Leghorn. I organised myself a nice villa and settled down for a rest. The gunners supported Yankee infantry in the attack on Montenegro and were showered with praise. The Yanks reckoned they had never had such prompt and good support. And we are Ack Ack mark you. Then Mark Clark found that British Ack Ack were in front of his artillery and there was a row and out we came. But Livorno had fallen and our colonel wrangled us a forward position as field cum Ack Ack. 

As the P.F. was so valuable, it was decided to leave me and it and a party where we were until Jerry shelling of Leghorn had ceased and the new position for the P.F. prepared. I had three more days which I thoroughly enjoyed. The object of leaving the instruments behind was defeated by pure chance. One night as I was on sentry go (I only had five men) a Jerry plane dropped a load of anti-personnel bombs. I hugged the ground pretty close as one burst on the road less than 25 ft. away. No-one was hurt, but one instrument was seriously damaged and all were knocked about. (There were seven trailer units. 5 Troop's were badly damaged). 

Eventually we arrived at the gun site north of Livorno where all the guns were shelling Pisa nine miles away. We quickly got into action and settled down. Two days later the guns left for a site on the banks of the Arno three miles out of Pisa. Air-burst of the Ack Ack shells had proved particularly deadly against troop concentrations. 

My job was to remain and organise the night ammo and ration wagons. I went up once or twice, really to satisfy myself as to the reports of shelling of the wagons. On the nights I did so not a shot came over, though I don't doubt that the drivers had to time certain stretches of the road carefully. 

This particular site was the nearest yet to Jerry - 2,000 yds. There was no infantry but light Ack Ack turned infantry were doing the patrols and support. In fact German patrols which crossed the Arno filtered well back behind the guns. Even so the position, which was very cunningly sited, was never spotted which was fortunate as it was well within mortar range. 

There were no incidents and only a few random 88s fell on the site. And now after three weeks the guns are back and we have resumed our Ack Ack role. The excitement of our move from Anzio has gone and the normal routine has got us all bored stiff. 

While the guns were away the camp quickly took shape. A beautiful canteen was built by the efforts of Jock McGiliverny and the Itis, [Italian] prisoners of war. It is amazing, tiled roof and all. He also built a smashing cook-house and stores and office buildings. Wilf and I were sleeping in the open. At least he was in a bomb crater. I was in a ditch with a bivvy built up. 

One day as I was mucking about a Basuto passed and stopping said to me "Eya Morrana subeto pentare multi acqua" (sounded like that anyway even if the spelling is wrong, and was Italian meaning "presently rain - much water"). 

I glanced up at the cloudless blue sky (we hadn't had a drop of rain for seven months) but he just nodded, grinned and repeated "Eya Morrana nultiu acqua - multi acqua."

I wished I'd listened to that black weather prophet because two nights later I was literally washed out of that ditch. It poured down but I wouldn't move. My camp bed held me about 1' 6" off the ground and I let the water rush underneath me all night but, when in the early hours it started lapping round my stern, I got out and wading about in the ditch starting to salvage my kit. I remember that as I groped around, cursing, I felt distinctly that that black blighter was responsible for it all. I had to laugh when I saw Wilf. He was marooned, the bomb crater was just a pond with Wilf lying on his bed in the middle. He had just draped a tarpaulin over himself and the bed plus two bits of board, and was still fast asleep. 

That day Wilf, Arthur and myself worked like Trojans and by evening our hut was built. And it's a smasher, of course we have added windows and other refinements since then, and now Wilf reckons we should put in a fire-place ready for the winter. I wonder. At the moment I'm against it. It's too small, but then when it gets colder I may change my mind - I wonder.

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