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On the Lighter Side

1. The Field Latrine
Wherever and whatever the circumstances the basic bodily functions could not be ignored! To cater for these situations considerable ingenuity was displayed in devising appropriate facilities - as the following examples will show:

a) Practical Basic
This method was employed when there was no time for niceties - a simple hole in the ground over which one assumed the position known to the French as “à la Turque”, that is to say, a simple squat astride the hole; somewhat undignified and a difficult position to maintain and quite prone to accident!

b. Practical Basic with Support
This could only be achieved if there was a convenient very low branch of a tree or other natural feature beneath which the hole could be dug — the branch or whatever providing a rudimentary “throne”.

c. Ration Box Rustic
During the early days after “D” Day food was brought to platoon positions in the form of wooden boxes which contained a carefully chosen selection of tinned bacon, tinned sausages, soup cubes, porridge cubes — soluble when heated with water in a mess tin over a methylated spirit tablet — biscuits, jam etc — sufficient to feed 14 men for 1 day or 7 men for 2 days or 2 men for 7 days and so on. Once emptied these boxes found themselves providing another important function. A suitable hole having been made in the bottom, the box positioned over the hole produced a tolerably comfortable seat and a great improvement.

d. Ration Box Sociable
It was not long before it was realised that with a longer trench 2 or even 3 boxes could be accommodated thus providing communal facilities and an easing of the necessity for queuing.

e. Kitchen Chair Upright
As the front moved further and further and more and more one-time dwellings were encountered — or the remains thereof — the emergence of the odd upright kitchen or dining chair amongst the rubble soon moved agile minds to realise that a hole punched through the rush or cane bottom and the chair installed over the hole a very tolerable and comfortable “throne” was produced, complete with back-rest.

f. Upright De-Luxe
This was probably the ultimate model and was the kitchen chair upright with the added attribute of a curtain, tablecloth or blanket found among the ruins draped around the legs of the chair. Just occasionally it was possible to construct a screen around the whole thing — but this was really felt to be being somewhat effete and extravagant.

NB In almost all the above cases — especially as regards a, b, c and d (since these were usually in use in “busy” areas) it was also necessary to dig a slit trench alongside to provide a refuge in the event of sudden shelling or mortaring — one did not want, literally to be “caught with one’s trousers down”.

2. Musical Slit-trenches
Some weeks after “D” Day the battalion left its positions to the north of Caen to take up a fresh deployment to the east of the River Orne in the Ranville, Escoville area. We moved at night on foot crossing the famous Pegasus Bridge in the process.
For three or four days in our new position we enjoyed a period of comparative calm and to pass some of the unaccustomed quiet hours two of the redoubtable members of the Platoon — we will call them Private Laurel and Hardy because those were not their names — devised an amusing variant of the old parlour game Musical Chairs.
They would emerge from their slit-trench and amble nonchalantly away in whatever direction they chose having detailed one or other of their mates, in their own time, to imitate the sound of an in-coming shell or mortar — an all too familiar sound by this time and quite easy to imitate.
Immediately they heard the sound Laurel and Hardy would rush for the safety of their trench — to see who could get there first! I was never sure whether money passed but I imagine the odd bet was laid.
On one occasion when this exercise was in progress a little group of two or three French locals appeared and stood quite bemused and open-mouthed at what was going on. “What are these mad Englishmen doing?”.
Becoming aware of this Laurel sauntered over to them and — dry Yorkshireman that he was — said “Doan’t worry — this i’n’t our real army”!

3. Private Merrythought’s Christmas
Christmas 1944 and the Platoon positions were amongst the ruins of what had probably been an attractive little town on the banks of the River Maas in Holland not many kilometres south of the “Bridge too far” at Nijmegan. It was snowy, windy and cold and uncomfortable but it was Christmas so, of course, Christmas dinner was laid on and brought out to the Platoon positions by the Company Quartermaster Sergeant and his team in their usual never-failing efficient way. (I can only remember one occasion when they did not quite make it — during the bitter fighting around Overloon in Holland — when we had the stew, which should have been the evening meal the day before, arrive cold for breakfast next morning!) As the chaps came along by sections to get their “grub” — I think there actually was turkey — and a modest quantity of liquid “Christmas cheer” — it was observed that Private Merrythought (again, not his name, of course) appeared already to have begun celebrating Christmas! Judicious questioning revealed that he had earlier been poking around in the ruins of the church and had discovered that not all of the Communion wine had been destroyed!

4. My War Wound!
Shortly after “Private Merrythought’s Christmas” the Battalion was pulled out of the line for a period of rest and recuperation at Venraij. It was very odd to be there for a “rest” because our first entry into Venraij had been anything but restful and relaxing. However, there we were and there was an ENSA concert party and so on. More importantly the first UK leaves were coming up and I was on the list! One of the diversions planned was a game of Rugby and, foolishly, I volunteered to take part. Assuming my old school-days position as a second-row forward I was, of course, involved in the “line-outs” — in one of which some character in the opposing side, who obviously had no experience of Rugby but plenty of football, instead of trying to catch the ball endeavoured to execute one of the spectacular football overhead kicks, missed the ball, of course, but connected forcibly with my lower lip. I was led, streaming blood, from the field and transported to the nearest field hospital. Having sorted me out initially the M.O. said “you really ought to have that stitched and we’ll keep you in overnight”. “No way” I said (except that I didn’t because that particular Americanism, I suspect had not yet become current usage). “No” I said “I’m jolly well going on UK leave tomorrow”. In the event he concurred and dosed my lip with sulphanilomide and sticking plaster.
All the tortuous way back to UK — overnight stops at Transit Camps, Channel Crossing and so on — my mouth was feeling ghastly and eating was torture and the Sulphanilomide was beginning to smell disgusting!
Eventually I arrived at Kirkgate station, Wakefield and stepped off the train to see my wife running along the platform to greet me. After however long it had been since we had last been together my first words to her had to be: “Don’t kiss me, don’t kiss me”!
She had not done nursing training for nothing — towards the end of my leave she had so worked on my lip that I was able to perform the necessary osculatory function very satisfactorily!

5 “You never know who’s listening”
After the end of the war in Europe the 3rd British Infantry Division, of which the Battalion was a part, was put into what, I believe was called Global Reserve and based in the Middle East. Initially we were based in Egypt in Moascar Garrison but soon moved into Palestine where we encountered another form of warfare since this was the time when the Jewish-Nationalists and Zionists became very active and the Irgun Zvei Leumi, the Hagganah, the Stern Gang and organisations which we called terrorists and they called Patriots became active. So, there were bombings and kidnappings and ambushes and, so different from the campaign in N.W. Europe where one knew from what direction to expect attack, here one never knew where danger might arise of what some seemingly innocent situation could suddenly prove anything but.
However, there was always the quirky situation, some happening to relieve the tension.
One of our duties was to run night patrols around Haifa, which was where the Battalion was based. The drill was, as officer detailed for patrol, to take one’s jeep and driver and a 15cwt truck with 10 or 12 soldiers, report to Central Police Station in Haifa, see the Palestine Police Superintendent on duty and be briefed by him as to what their intelligence told them of the security situation of the moment, pick up a Palestine policeman who knew the area and then drive around paying particular attention to certain points, such as the Government Motor Transport Park, the house of the Head of the Haifa District CID; the house of the Chief Constable, the Government Hospital, the local lock-up etc. Also one was expected to set up a road-block here and there and do a check and search of all vehicles passing through. One was always rather apprehensive so it was not surprising that one made the best of a case of a little light relief. For example: on duty one night I set up a road-block where I thought appropriate and did the usual checks. Along came a taxi with, as passengers, four German-speaking young Israeli girls. I demanded their papers and as I was examining them I realised from what remained of my school-boy German that they were talking about me in what I believed were rather personal but complimentary terms. I am afraid I took rather longer than necessary over my alleged examination of their papers to allow them to talk a bit more — then, summoning all my memories of R.H. Ford’s German class at school and bits picked up in Germany I said in what I hoped was impeccable German “Thankyou very much, Good Night and a safe journey home”.
It was a truly wicked delight to see their faces show great surprise that there was an Englishman who apparently understood German — and then various shades of embarrassment as they realised that “perhaps he understood what we were saying about him”.
A rather puerile attitude for me to adopt, I am sure, but a gentle episode to soften the somewhat tense atmosphere of these night-time patrols.

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