BY ROGER SMITH
Extracts from the book:
·
Flies and worse in the Western Desert
·
A peculiar addiction to Irish lyrics
·
Burying the dead Tebaga Gap
·
British Army at a minefield near Sfax,
Tunisia
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The countryside near Sousse, Tunisia
·
The Padre's tools of trade
·
A minefield near Takrouna, Tunisia
·
Kelly in Cairo
·
Housekeeping in a two-man bivvy in the
rain Sangro, Italy
·
Falling asleep on duty Sangro
·
Kelly dies at
the Sangro River
·
Civilians caught in the frontline
Castel Frantano, Italy
·
Getting sadness off your chest
·
Giant drunken zooming fireflies
Alife, Italy
·
Christmas 1943
back from the front
·
Maori Battalion,
Trocchio, Italy
·
Fear, and fear of fear Cassino,
Italy
·
A break from Cassino
·
All in a days work in the Cassino
rubble
·
There for your
mate at the finish Terelle, Italy
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BURYING THE DEAD AT TEBAGA GAP |
Long shadows were reaching out from the western hills when those of us who could be
spared from duty stood bareheaded beside our little cemetery as the padre read the
service. It was a moment of great sorrow; there were none among the dead who yesterday we
could not have recognised and called by name. Many had been intimate friends. The old
saying was ever-present in our thoughts: There, but for the grace of God, go
I. We turned away as shovels lifted and the desert was rendered smooth again, with
the sad knowledge that the loss we felt would be infinitely greater when it became known
to the families at home.
BRITISH ARMY IN A MINEFIELD
NEAR SFAX, TUNISIA |
While we were talking, a three-tonner driven by an RASC Tommy came down the road. The
[British]sergeant waved him down but the happy Pom grinned, waved back and just kept on
going. We stood and watched with some interest. He got about the length of a football
field before it happened. There was a terrific bang, a cloud of dust, and the off-side
front wheel disappeared, to bring the truck to a sagging halt. The Pom half fell out of
the drivers door and came staggering towards us.
The sergeant raised his hands above his head in fury. He grabbed his red cap and threw it
on the ground.
Fook, he said. The fooking fooker fooked the fooking fooker.
One word repeated, but the meaning was clear. |
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