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Chapter 1

Before the War, during my early working and teenage years, my activities were dictated to a large extent by a lack of funds. Sport of all kinds was an obvious outlet.

At the time I worked at Burberrys and later at Galleries Lafayette in Regent Street. Burberrys had splendid sports facilities and a very well equipped sports ground at Northolt. I played soccer, cricket and mixed hockey on Sundays. There was also a very keen athletics meeting each year involving the three main sections of the Company

In addition, I was a very enthusiastic member of Southgate Harriers, mainly involved in ‘field events’. As I was studying at the Regent Street Polytechnic, I also belonged to the ‘Poly’ Harriers and their boxing club.

We worked hard; 9 o’clock until 6 and half days only on Saturday. Annual holidays were two weeks only each year.

In spite of the obvious horrors of the Great War, many of us were most interested in what the Territorial Army had to offer. Each year the annual camp was held and employers had to allow an extra two weeks for training at camp. There, you were paid the daily rate of pay for your rank as a regular soldier.

In addition one was paid an annual bounty each year on completion of a certain number of “drills” (attendances).

So, in 1936 I joined. The nearest unit was the 7th Middlesex Regiment, a Territorial Army Battalion. I enlisted at the Enfield drill hall which housed B “Support” Company. The ‘Support’ designation referred to its weapons and they were armed with heavy Vickers machine guns. The other three normal companies were called ‘rifle’ companies although they too, had light machine guns (LMGs). At Hornsey there was a headquarters company in addition to one of the rifle companies.

When war started, some Regiments became specialist machine-gun units and the heavy Vickers guns were removed from most infantry units. The Middlesex Regiment was one of those that became machine gunners. Pauline’s brother Bill who was a ‘territorial’ in the ‘Artists Rifles’ was commissioned into the Manchester Regiment which became a machine gun Regiment.

My army number was 6204337 and although I left and joined another Regiment, I retained it until I was commissioned and given an officer’s number.

With the Middlesex I went to one annual camp at Arundel. I seem to recollect that the training was mainly preparing for trench warfare of the type that had been so awful, only about eighteen years before.

A young subaltern was posted to us and he suggested that I would probably be happier in one of the London regiments and thought that The London Rifle Brigade, from where he had come, would be a good choice. To join the L.R.B., as it was known, was not all that easy and one had to be recommended and approved. Having overcome this obstacle, I duly joined and was again placed in B Company. This was not the Battalion’s support company, however, so my initial training was somewhat wasted.

There was much to learn, as the drill of a Rifle Regiment is completely different from that of a “line” regiment like the Middlesex. We marched very quickly, at a 140 paces to the minute and drill commands were different too. We called our bayonets “swords”, wore black buttons and “Battle honours” were on the cap badges and drums, as we carried no “colours”. Our dress uniform was dark green and black.

When I became a corporal I wore my stripes on my right arm only and they were large green ones. Later, as a sergeant, I wore three huge stripes in black and gold, again on the right arm only.

The whole battalion was housed in one huge drill hall at Bunhill Row in the City. It was so big that we shared it with a Yeomanry Regiment called the “Rough Riders”. Fortunately, they were gunners and had no horses.

Amazingly, in B Company, I was not the only A.J.Gilbert. Not only was there another one, but also his brother P J Gilbert. Then to make a foursome there was also J Gilbert (or Jack). We were not only in B Company but in the same platoon of 30 odd men!! The two brothers left before the war and joined RAF aircrew. J G survived the war and attends L.R.B. reunions.

Most people in the L.R.B. worked in the City. D Company was called “Lloyds” Company because so many of them worked there.

In the drill hall was a restaurant called the ‘Green Room’ where one could lunch and drink at any time. There was also a ‘School of Arms’. Here we did P.T, fencing, etc. My favourite sport was ‘Bayonet fencing’. This was a very tough business involving heavy masks, body padding and ‘sprung’ bayonets (swords) in the rifle. I was considered to be a ‘young soldier’ and became the Regimental Y S champion and would normally have received an inscribed tankard. Unfortunately, Hitler declared war and they did not issue them that year. I was also runner up in the London Divisional Championships and once had a medal for this which I think finished up in the family ‘toy box’.

Soldiers in rifle regiments were always considered to be excellent marksmen. In addition to the annual training and firing on rifle ranges, in the L.R.B. we would spend a whole weekend, in our own time at Bisley which you may know is a famous rifle range. We were housed in the Middlesex Club where we slept and ate. At Bunhill Row there was also a very well equipped indoor range.

I attended three camps with the L.R B. One of them was a bit of a disaster because of continuous heavy rain. The London Scottish and The Queens Westminster Rifles were usually camped with us and all camps were in the New Forest area.

In 1938, the political situation became serious and the Territorial Army doubled up and a second L.R.B. battalion was formed. My friend Eric Porter, who now lives in the village of Ringmer joined them.

The week before war was declared in 1939 we were ordered to take our rifles home. Then came the ‘exciting’ day when we were ordered to report to our units. I think we were ‘mobilised’. So, dressed in uniform, with next door neighbours Freddie and Arthur Franklin, I went to war on the ‘Tube’. They were both in a London tank unit ‘The Sharpshooters’ - again yeomanry, and again no horses. Freddie was badly wounded when his tank ‘brewed up’, and Arthur survived the war only to be killed when he joined the TA as a sergeant glider pilot.

On arrival I was given my first medical examination by one of the Sergeants, who had obviously spent some time in the Green Room before I arrived. “Are you fit?” he shouted. When I replied that I was, he stamped my papers with a large stamp which said ‘FIT’. Then after sufficient numbers had arrived, for the second time that night, I was marched to the ‘Tube’ and we found our way to Wellington Barracks. My mother and father were on holiday whilst all this was happening and they visited me as soon as possible at Wellington Barracks. As I could not get leave we celebrated my 22nd birthday which has just gone, through the railings. It was a rather tearful affair.

Here, we gentlemen soldiers occupied one half of the Barracks and Guards reservists were at the other end. We were very keen and they like all ‘old soldiers’ called back from civilian life, were definitely not so.

Like all soldiers, however, we soon developed rapport and most importantly, found that it was very useful to return from a night out in the West End through one another’s guard rooms.

Wellington Barracks was also an introduction to the hard tough life of the regular soldier. The toilet and ablution blocks were not pleasant places and there were constant warnings about infection. One wag, referring to scabies, which was a problem, had written on a wall, “Even if you stand upon the seat the ‘crabs’ in here can jump six feet”.

Because of my interest in sport, I was detailed to report to the Army School of Physical Training at Aldershot (‘P.T.’ as we called it then). This was a very tough course. We had recently received lots of inoculations and smallpox vaccinations. My scab from the latter was a beauty and it was constantly being knocked off on the course. It did enable me to escape the sadistic swimming lessons. If a student could not swim he was doing so after only a few lessons. The course that I attended was the last one that the regular soldier did before the War. I attended another in India but it was nothing like this. I passed out quite well and was promoted to Corporal on my return to the Battalion. In the L.R.B. any form of rank was quite something, usually involving many years of service. I also had to wear crossed sabres on my arm to indicate that I was a qualified PT instructor.

We moved to Lyminge in Kent and from there to Folkestone where we spent our first Christmas Day in the Hotel Wampach. On Christmas Day, traditionally lunch was served to the men by the officers and sergeants. I was orderly corporal for B Company, and my friend Hatcher was orderly corporal for C Company who were also housed in the hotel. Being on duty, we were not allowed to drink, but ironically one of our duties was to open a very large number of bottles of Port wine. It occurred to us that a tiny amount from each bottle would not be missed - so that is what happened. Unfortunately we then became a little concerned that we had not taken our tiny sample evenly from each bottle, so steps were taken to correct this. I think we awoke two days later in the basement and had completely missed our meal.

At this time conscription had started, and ‘intake’, as they were called, were made to join the various army centres throughout the country. There were not sufficient regular non commissioned officers to train them so N.C.O.s were hived off from T.A. units to make up the numbers. So, together with N.C.O.s from our second battalion, a number of us were seconded to the Rifle Brigade Depot at Winchester to assist training. The Rifle Brigade shared this huge depot with the Kings Royal Rifle Corps (or 60th Rifles) together with the Hampshire Regiment.

The Gurkha Rifles museum is there today, together with that of the Greenjackets. In the depot a squad of 30 civilians was handed over to the tender mercies of a drill sergeant and two corporals. As the junior of these, I slept in a small room attached to a large barrack room where the recruits were housed.

Our squad was the last one formed and quite a few of the men were those released from prison who volunteered to serve in the Army.

The training was of a very high standard and we ‘T.A.’ people became very efficient or were ‘RTU’d’ (“returned to Unit”) which was rather a disgrace.

I was very surprised to find what large numbers of people were unable to read or write. I suppose it was because the better educated had been ‘creamed off’ for the signals and gunners etc. We L.R B. people found that we were writing letters to their loved ones, and even worse were required to read those they received. For a single naïve 22 year-old this was most embarrassing at times! Nearly every envelope had the word SWALK written on it. I soon learnt that this meant “sealed with a loving kiss”.

After two squads had passed out, the war, as far as the British were concerned, really started and resulted in the evacuation at Dunkirk.

The Rifle Brigade, 60th Rifles and the Queen Victoria Rifles, (a T.A. Unit,) were called upon to defend Calais where they succeeded in holding up a German Panzer force that would have overwhelmed the British Army and prevented the escape from Dunkirk.

Those that survived the battle became prisoners of war. Dick Shewring’s brother was one of those.

After Dunkirk, a new battalion was to be formed from scratch on a ‘green field’ site. A cadre of officers and N.C.O.’s from Rifle Brigade sources was gathered together. This was at Sherborne Castle.

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