10.   BACK TO THE GREEN HOWARDS

Our Platoon Sergeant came into the tent with orders for us to pack our kit and be prepared to move within twenty four hours, so we knew that we would soon be going into action.

For most of the lads, this would be their first confrontation with the enemy. I had been with the B.E.F. in France and had not forgotten all the why's and wherefore's and knew when to keep my head down and when to be aggressive, however these young men of nineteen had plenty of confidence and I felt certain that they would give a good account of themselves when the time came.

We climbed onto our three tonners and were soon on the way - our destination - Cairo airport. Travelling through Cairo was a bit of a nightmare for the drivers, simply masses of people and vehicles and there did not appear to be many rules of the road. At the airport we were all weighed with our kit, there would be about one hundred of us on the draft and we were counted into groups of twenty, each group being directed to a waiting Dakota aircraft. Ten men were sat on a bench on each side of the plane.

We were soon airborne and the plane passed over the pyramids and the sphinx which was really some sight to behold. We were on our way to join the 8th Army. The flight was uneventful as our Royal Air force had at this time mastery of the air. Landing at Benghazi to refuel, stretch our legs and to be given a meal, we saw there were burnt out vehicles and tanks everywhere and heaps of rubble which were once buildings.

Back onto the plane and our destination - Tripoli. The landing was a bit of nightmare because there were shell craters all over the runway as the fighting had passed that way only recently. The pilot, good as he was, could not avoid one of the craters with the result that the plane tipped up to an angle of forty five degrees throwing us all forward and yet none of us were hurt - it was a shock for the lads who were asleep - what a rude awakening! The air was blue with foul language. We crawled out and made our way to a hangar where we were to stay for the night and next morning marched to a tented camp just outside the city where we stayed for two days.

We were allowed to go into Tripoli to see the destruction which had been caused and the harbour area naturally had suffered the most, a great deal of demolition had taken place.

Once more embussing we went closer to the front, going over the very ground that a fierce battle had so recently taken place - the Mareth line. My old 6th Battalion had played a very significant part in the fighting for Mareth and had suffered many casualties, together with the other units of the 69th brigade.

We had now traversed the whole of Libya and were entering Tunisia after about sixty miles, passing through Medenine and Gabes we came to a standstill and debussed. After marching about ten miles we came to rest in a clearing among sand dunes and just stood around waiting for orders. Eventually an Officer arrived and I recognised him at once, but it held no significance for me at the time.

You will recall that I was my Company Commanders batman early in the war, consequently there were not many Officers in the Battalion I did not know. Coming closer, the Officer looked us all over, thinking his own thoughts,probably along the lines "poor lads, more common fodder" because he would realise that most of the new draft had never seen any action. I know he had a reputation for being a very good understanding man who was popular among those working alongside him. He was the motor transport Officer in the 6th Green Howards, Captain Carmichael. He came over to me and said "Well Cheall, you have caught up with us at last, good to see you". I replied that I was afraid I hadn't really caught up with them as I was now in the East Yorkshire Regiment. "Oh", he said "I can do something about that, just stand over there Cheall", and to the N.C.O. who accompanied him he said "transfer this man from the East Yorks to the Green Howards with immediate effect" - just as easy as that. My record card shows that it actually happened on 29th March 1943.

To say that I was dumbstruck would be putting it mildly. I could not very well jump for joy but I felt like it, I just said "thank you Sir, very much", but I knew he could sense that I was pleased to be once more a Green Howard. I looked forward to the prospect of meeting some of my old pals but I regretfully had to part company with the friends I had made in the 11th Battalion, that is what the Army does for you - no room for sentiment.

John Bousefield remained in the East Yorks, together with Norman Young; Arthur Oxley was transferred to the 6th G.H. although he too had always been in the 11th Battalion - the three of them were fated to be killed within days, but more of that later.

I had been a member of the East Yorks for only three months and now the esprit-de-corps of the British Army had cropped up again and it was a great feeling to be a Green Howard once again. we who had become part of the 6th departed the spot and walked about three miles, when we arrived at the rest area of the Battalion. They had no cover whatsoever and were just sitting or laying around resting and looked dead beat.

What I expected to see and what greeted me were two entirely different things - we didn't know at the time what hard battles the 50th division had fought or that the 6th had taken such a battering, as had all other units. The bitter confrontations with the enemy had caused devastation in their numbers.

Looking over the faces of the men lying around I recognised only one, mind you, this was 'C' company and I had always been in 'B', anyway the lad remembered me because he also used to be Company Commanders batman. The story I heard from Harry stopped me dead, he was most depressed and gave me the impression that nothing mattered now. He told me what the 6th had been through and I hope it will be of interest if I mention some of their exploits in my story.

In August 1941 they landed at Farmagusta in Cyprus and did some intensive training on the mountains. Early November found them in Palestine. At the end of the month they moved again to Persia, followed by Syria and Iraq - all the time preparing defences. Early in February they were at Alexandria in Egypt and almost at once moved again to positions near Tobruk - now comes the really hard part.

From these defensive positions recce. patrols were sent out seeking the enemy for three days at a time and losing men in the process. They were constantly on the move in the desert and conditions were dreadful. After a while they took up defensive positions in what were then called boxes, so that all sides could be defended.

Owing to the way the war was going at the time and the enemy being far superior in weapons, the box was surrounded and to cut a long story short, before they surrendered many had been killed, the remainder, apart from those who managed to escape were taken prisoner. That is the story I was told by Harry, so no wonder I didn't see any faces I recognised.

After talking to that poor lad I made my way over to 'B' company and didn't see anybody I knew except Company Commander Captain Hull who I knew had joined the 6th Battalion as a Subaltern in September 1939 and was a very brave Officer who would go through hell for his company of lads.

After being put into number fifteen Platoon I began getting to know the other lads and finding out that my section leader was a young man named Lance Corporal Coughlan. I had tiffin (lunch) with them then sat aside, my brain in a turmoil, remembering all the old names and faces I had known since August 24th 1939, but in the infantry one had to learn to come to terms with sudden death and changing circumstances and get on with life. I did just this and soon became involved in what we had to do, getting to know that most of the lads belonging to the new 6th were just as good soldiers as those I had known in the past.