[2002] SID’S WAR

0018 - Sidney Lane War Diary 9

[this is an extract of the war diary, 'An Ordinary War', by my uncle (Sid Lane, my mother's brother) which covers the Blitz]

17/11/40

The way I slip from present to past tense may seem puzzling, but the fact is I sometimes write up events long after they have happened. For instance I am now at Raby [a small village on the edge of the country, about five miles from Birkenhead] and my wanderings since leaving Watchet [in Somerset] have been considerable, and here is a brief summary:

I arrived back at Litherland [on the outskirts of Liverpool] on 24/9/40 and again joined forces with Bob. I was now a Bombardier in view of my further training and experience on the course. I was promised further promotion in due course but this has not materialized and somehow I think it is not likely to do so. Still 7/- a day is not bad. Brian returned a week later than myself and was also made a Bombardier. We stayed at Litherland about a week or so and we enjoyed the reunion with George - Joe - Toddy - Tom and the rest. Then Brian and I together with six others were sent to Storeton [on the outskirts of Birkenhead] - Yes, Storeton of all places - 3/4 of a mile from home.

Of course it didn't last long; just three weeks in fact and then we were pushed off to Raby and attached to the 290 Bty. In charge of the party is Edmundson now L/Sgt.

Well now for Raby:- I seem to remember making a remark somewhere in this log to the effect that I felt as though I had been all my life in a bell tent. I would like to underline that statement and to add that never have the conditions been as bad as those I am now experiencing. It has been raining continuously ever since we arrived here and the camp is one great quagmire. On stepping out of the tent you wade through two inches of water and about five inches of mud. Every time you made such a trip you must equip yourself as for an Arctic expedition.

This of course causes one to reflect as to whether the object in mind is great enough for such a decision. Even trips to the latrines are very often postponed (George says we emulate the community of Mobile [from a ribald army song at the time]). Speaking of latrines, I think that there is nothing which brings home more forcibly the lack of privacy in the army than sitting in state with a complete stranger. This sounds laughable and sometimes it is but then again it can be very embarrassing.

Well now about food. Food seems to provide quite a lot of material for this record, and so it should - it is vitally important. Here it is quite good, despite the very primitive cooking facilities. Of course, this kind of limits the scope of the cooks and so the food is not varied a great deal. The mess is a large marquee and unfortunately the weather has so soaked and churned up the place that meals are rather depressing. It is really disgraceful that we should be under canvas so late in the year, but after all there is a war on somewhere.

I think that this log is now up to date. Oh! I forgot; I was lucky enough to get seven days leave recently and very welcome it was too.

7/1/41

I seem to be getting the years mixed up now. It is now 1941. I wonder what it brings us. It has opened rather well with our defeat of the Italians in Libya, where over 70,000 prisoners were taken. Of course the thing that surprised me, and most other people I think, is the amazing success of the Greeks. Musso proposed to occupy Greece and the Greeks naturally objected. Not only did they stop the Italians but they chased them back into Albania. The position at the present is that the Greeks occupy more than half Albania and are steadily driving the Italians backwards to the sea.

The success of these operations owe more than a little to the support given by the Royal navy and the R.A.F. These units have prevented the Italians getting supplies and reinforcements into Albania. It is queer though:- I had never thought of the Greeks as a war-like people and, as a matter of fact, had regarded them as living on the past glories of their nation and wringing a living out of tourists who visited them.

But to return to our own activities: I am still at Raby and up to a few days ago was living in a tent. We have played a big part in minimising the damage done by the raiders on Liverpool and Birkenhead. These raids, which have been carried out all over the country, have certainly been pretty bad, and the damage done extensive. But people seem to stand up to the ordeal pretty well, and the stories of heroism are told daily in the newspapers. Personally I lay no claim to courage and I admit the whistle of a bomb, an incendiary or a piece of shell is a very unpleasant sound and can turn my stomach over any time. When on duty it is not so bad and you hardly notice it, but to lie in a tent and listen to the barrage rumbling is a different matter. Once or twice shrapnel has fallen too close for my liking and we found one day that our tent had been pierced in two places. The folks at home are standing the strain very well, and that is saying something in view of the number of bombs which have fallen around them. One particular night an aerial torpedo weighing 1,000 lbs. was dropped on a house in the next street to them. Fortunately no-one was hurt, though the damage was considerable. Every householder in the district must have though they had had a direct hit. Such was the shock.

A week before Christmas we received the full fury of a Nazi blitz and the damage and death-toll in Wallasey, Birkenhead and Liverpool was enormous. Land-mines were dropped on parachutes and whole streets of houses were blown up at a time. Fires raged all over Liverpool and district, and the full value of the A.R.P. and the A.F.S. [Air Raid Protection, whose job it was to warn of air-raids and deal with the effects of any bombing, and Auxiliary Fire Service] and other civilian organisations was seen. All the newspapers paid splendid tribute to the spirit which enable people to endure such terror and to carry on. Some of the tales you hear are very sad and distressing, but there is something underneath it all which makes you feel very proud of your neighbours. The anti-aircraft artillery has not achieved very spectacular success, but on all sides you hear praise of the work and an acknowledgment that, but for the efforts of the gunners, things would have been very much worse indeed.

The life of a gunner is a hard one. The work on a gun-site is endless and yet you very rarely find anyone growling (I mean a serious growl - not the continuous grouse of the Army) and I certainly take off my hat to them, or I suppose I should say "I salute them."

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