Having my quiet dram of malt this evening, my mind returned back to 69 years ago today. Early in the morning I went with my CO to check the Rifle Company positions we had taken up after my Battalion with the KOSBs had captured the town of Heinsberg, just over the German Border. It was the largest German town taken by the British Army up to the time of its capture. We were consolidating, ready to repulse the expected counter-attack. The CO was anxious to ensure he was satisfied with the defensive positions we were preparing to dig in. I was with him as the Battalion's IO and his Tactical Staff Officer. The last Rifle Company on the extreme right flank of the Battalion's position was D Company. I had previously been a Platoon Commander with this Company and always looked forward to being back amongst them. The CO was satisfied with their defensive deployment and was about to leave when the Company Commander asked if I.O. could check on the location one of the Platoons was preparing to hold, as there was concern they were on the edge of a minefield. With the CO's permission I went to look and the CO anxious to get back to Battalion HQ, asked if I wanted some of his protection section from the Carrier Platoon to stay with me, but quickly replied I would be all right. So they left about ten minutes ahead of me and I followed on my own, seeing them making their way back to Battalion HQ. With no warning I found myself facing an explosion just immediately in front of me, the ground opening up and shrapnel, stones and earth flying into my body. I immediately fell to the ground knowing I was wounded and it was then I heard the whistling sound of a shell - presumably the second shell - landing nearby, quickly followed by other bursts. I quickly realised I had to try and get some cover and saw some distance away a group of houses and decided to make a dash after the next explosion, clambering through a bomb-shelled window. When the bombardment from the heavy guns of the Seigfreid stopped and all was silent, I heard the voice of the RSM shouting to find out where I was and if I was all right. On hearing I was wounded he picked me up on to his shoulder and ran with me back to the Regimental First Aid Post and from there I was transferred to an ambulance back to the Casualty Clearing Station. On the stretcher on the other side of the ambulance was a German PoW taken when the HLI pushed through us to attack the high ground in front. He seemed to be younger than I was, I was 23, but gathered he had been shot in the stomach by his own officer when he had wanted to surrender his machine-gun post when he believed all was over. We journey that January afternoon over heavily snow-rutted ground and as we lurched our way bump by bump, I felt no pain having been sedated but my German companion suffered as he yelled in pain each time we felt the wheels encountering the rough terrain. I truly felt very sorry for the young lad as we shared the journey together. For that brief moment of time in the ambulance we were just two young lads, the victims of War; rank and nationality of little account, as our young bodies lay there torn apart by the weapons of destruction. Once we reached the Casualty Clearing Station, we separated. But over the long years since our brief time together with no one else beside us, I have remembered him; no name, only a dimming image and his cries of pain still linger in my memory. I do hope he survived, although his chances were slimmer than mine. I do hope he live to be the father of children as I did, and knows the joy of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. So on this night, 69 years on, I remembered him, raised my glass to the memory of a young enemy soldier who shared a brief moment when we were very young men and through no fault of our own making were brought together as our injured bodies united us in a common need for care and attention. Joe Brown.
Thanks for sharing that Joe. I've moved it to 'Veteran Accounts' from General & removed the duplicate thread.
Well done Joe…..we were all that young…my only face to face meeting with the enemy was of a different nature - that of laughter….we were ahead of the Infantry and came upon a batch of 1st paras wishing to surrender - which was most unusual - so the Commander suggested that both the gunner and I round them up and take them back to the Seaforths of Canada whom we were supporting..so grabbing my "Tommy" gun - I slapped in a magazine and jumped down down followed by the gunner….and waving them into marching order - the tallest of the paras started to laugh - and said something to his colleaues and they also started laughing..on looking round I noted that the gunner with a fierce expression on his face was pointing his Tommy gun in the required method - BUT - with NO magazine and the cleaning brush still up the spout - we all had a good laugh and we gave them a can of cigarettes and matches and off they went by themselves back to the Seaforths… it wasn't always death and destruction Cheers
Thank you for your memories Joe. Your story reminded me slightly of one my father told me only once. He said that there was a slight lull in fighting, during which yet another Platoon officer had been severely wounded and several mates had been killed in front of him. The 'blood was still up' when German prisoners were being encouraged back to the cage, many of them receiving kicks from The Micks as they ran a gauntlet; one German POW had thrown a grenade while passing through them. He had just shouted "Schnell" at a group and was about to say more of the same to one man he thought wasn't fast enough, lagging behind his comrades. Dad said words stopped in his mouth as he looked at this limping man's leg. His foot was hanging on by a shred of skin and he seemed oblivious to the severity of his own injury. He said at that moment it was as if all the hatred had suddenly drained out of him. Dad went over, lifted the man on his shoulders, carried him to the side of the road, shoved a cigarette in the German's mouth and called for stretcher bearers. This has always illustrated to me that even when under extreme pressure, the better side of human nature still can prevail.
I have followed your link joe and found it so personal and touching and your post was very moving Thank you for sharing your personal experiences it has been an honour to read . Take care Elsie.
Thanks for sharing this Joe. The only memory I have of similar circumstances is when my Honey tank was used to drop off a wounded Hussar to the local FDS and we had to wait our turn A jeep came in at the same time with two stretchers aboard, one with a British chap and one with a captured Jerry who's knee-cap was literally falling off him. The British chap insisted that they treat the Jerry first. Ron
Thanks Joe for sharing such a moving account of what happened to you. All the best to you from a very dreich day here at Edzell. Cheers - Maria
Hi Joe, Thank you - I'm assuming you do not have your units war diaries? Would you like me to copy them for you? There is no charge, after all they are your diaries at the end of the day. Regards Andy
I am pleased there has been so much understanding why I would want to take up space on the Forum to write about a personal moment that happened so long ago. However, it wasn't just the dram(!), the lad had always been in my mind and I have never forgotten that journey we shared. Thankful that I am blessed with an active mind that has retained the ability to remember what was an eventful day in my life. Kind regards to everyone. Joe
Hi Joe, A very moving story indeed - I hope he recovered too. Pity, we cannot trace him I guess. Stefan.
Stefan, If only I had tried a few years ago! We know the date and I would assume the Casualty Clearing Station would have a record of German casualties admitted that day and further his wounds were gun shots in the stomach. However, tracing what happened after than would be extremely difficult. Regards, Joe
Joe, did you ever try to find anything back in Heinsberg? That Casulty Clearing Station, I assume the old records are somewhere in UK in these days. Also, what Andy suggested to check with your units war diaries may shed some light on it. Any assistance you need in German,let me know. Stefan.
Joe Good news ! I've copied all of your units war diaries (Five diaries) except for 1945. That will be copied by Lee next week. Can I just say what neat handwriting you have compared to some of the officers handwriting in WW2 war diaries Cheers Andy
