It was all very well being told to report back to one's battalion after our experience, even though we were glad of the break to be able to wander around a while, any excuse to delay our return to the battalion. Tippy, whom I had always believed to be one of the best scroungers in my section, was soon in action.

The other Guardsman "Chuck" Pollard, as I always called him, (his brother was killed in Crossing of the Garigliano), stuck to me and did nothing else but grumble about food. That was the reason for his nickname, he was always thinking of eating. However, I thought it wise to report to the nearest M.P. post so making enquiries from the troops in the area, I found that an M.P. post was situated about three miles in the direction in which our battalion were.

It took about another hour trying to find Tippy, so Chuck and I started our search. It was not long before we came across him sitting down alongside a tank of the 6th Armour Division with the crew squatting alongside and playing cards. It seemed the crew were slightly short of money and they had been playing for rations. Tippy seemed to have done quite well. Although our small packs had been lost during our capture, we managed to push tins of bully and M.& V. into our tunics and with a "Be seeing you", we left the area and asking our way to the M.P. post, we started off through an olive grove. We came out of the olive grove and stretched before us lay open fields and soft marshy ground.

Over to the right I could see a tank harbour so we made our way making sure that we kept to the higher ground otherwise we should have been bogged down. Eventually we found ourselves amongst a tank squadron, most of them being small honey tanks and bren carriers. A sergeant came towards us and after explaining our position, he took us to his officer who, after several questions and inspection of what possessions we had, seemed satisfied.

In our engagement with the Germans previously, our rifles had been taken from us and after quite a lot of fuss and demand, the three of us were issued with a rifle each. Now we felt a little more like ourselves but still we had no small packs. We were shown our way to the M.P. post. After another walk of about two miles across fields strewn with burnt out tanks including German ones as well as British, we came to a farmhouse. We were greeted by an Italian girl of about twenty years of age who started to run towards the house shouting at the top of her voice.

Whatever it was that she shouted, brought out an elderly Italian farmer and his wife and two small children. The latter on seeing us ran towards us shouting "Chocolate, chocolate". The farmer beckoned us into the house which on entering the small kitchen, I noticed that the roof was completely off and rafters hanging down with torn woodwork and debris strewn all around the sides of the kitchen.

As usual the first thing to appear was the traditional bottle of vine which we drank from the bottle each in turn. It was more bitter than the usual wines I had tasted, being very white in colour, and I imagined not very long made. However, it was refreshing and with a polite "Gratia", we finished the bottle off.

I pulled a tin of bully beef from my tunic and handed it to the girl who threw her arms round me and kissed me. I could see Tippy with his eye on the girl. Chuck was wandering around looking in the debris around the room. What he expected to find I don't know but suddenly he shouted "Come here Sarg., look what I've found". I went over to him and looking down, saw a small pile of German hand grenades also two or three German luger pistols. We rummaged around and also found quite a lot of Italian beretti revolvers. There was also plenty of ammunition.

I took a small Italian revolver with a few rounds of ammunition. The rest we took outside and threw down a well which stood in the middle of the farmyard. The Italians watched all true without saying a word although one of the youngsters had not followed us into the yard. I turned and quickly went back into the house to find the youngster pulling up a board near the large stove. I went towards him and as I did so, he ran off into the yard. I looked down into the gaping hole in the floor and to my surprise saw the face of a dead German facing me. He had been shot very neatly right between the eyes. We never found out what had actually happened because not one of the Italians spoke one word during all the time we were looking around.

Then the youngster who had run off came back and beckoning to me to follow him, started off across the farmyard. Leaving Chuck to watch the Italians, I followed the youngster with Tippy so close behind me I could hear him breathing down my neck. Tippy was always the one for sensing out danger or anything unusual.

The young lad led us to a small outhouse about fifty yards from the main building. I slowly opened the rickety door and as I did so, an awful stench hit me in the face. Looking down I saw the floor with about seven or eight German bodies all piled on top of each other. They were badly decomposed, also several of the bodies had legs and arms missing. The young lad stood there staring at them, then turned and ran from the building. Most of the bodies seemed to have been bandaged, so I presumed these had been German wounded left, who had all died from their wounds. We could do nothing but by signs and the few Italian words I knew, I motioned the farmer and his wife to find spades and to help us bury the bodies. We tied their identity tags to poles on the graves.

This task took us quite a while and although a very unpleasant job, we finished along with the help of the Italian farmer and ourselves. We stayed the night in an old barn which was luckily still intact and in the corner a large crate which held about eight or nine chickens. In the morning the old farmer gave us breakfast of vine and fried eggs and we felt much better, and refreshed.

Our main object was still to find our battalion so with a casual thank you and tears from the young girl, who by now had come out of hiding, we strode off in the direction the farmer pointed out as being where our troops lay.

I imagined now our forces must have made good advance up the Lira valley crossing the River Melfa which later was to prove right as they had crossed the River Melfa.

Our progress was marred by deeply rutted fields, possibly made by tanks and armoured vehicles. Eventually we came on to a dusty and stoney road. Following the road, we came upon a bren carrier with a British crew who were sitting down beneath the shade of a large sheet thrown over the end of the carrier. There was about five of them and at our approach, they rose and gazed at us as if we were ghosts.

After my explanation of what had happened, the corporal informed me they were on their way to a place called Pignataro. The crew of the carrier were originally from the 78th Division but had been in action with the 1st Guards Brigade since the fall of Cassino. The corporal was willing to take us along with them so after a cup of tea and a tin of M.& V each, we clambered into the carrier which was now certainly overcrowded. Before long, we found ourselves on a better road and more activity around us. I saw vehicles and troops of the 6th Armoured Division all along the way. Eventually we came upon an M.P. post so I decided we had better report and find where our battalion was.

Thanking the corporal and his crew, we jumped off and as I did so, an M.P. strode towards me and looking as smart as if he was on the parade ground back at London, he walked directly up to me and asked what we were doing in the area. The same explanation followed, to which I was now getting used to relate. However, there seemed more efficiency with the M.P's. and very soon I was being led on to a large piece of land where in the middle stood a large tent.

Entering, I was confronted by an M.P. sergeant who, for an M.P. seemed very polite and patient, while once again I explained our position. Chuck and Tippy were waiting outside talking to the other M.P. After a few particulars had been taken and our identity discs checked, I was told that a truck would be leaving in about an hour for our battalion's H.Q. which lay about three or four miles outside the town of Pignataro.

Once again we were travelling along the same road we had come in on, but turning off we came onto a very good road and the truck soon picked up speed. Before very long, I could see quite a large area of troops and armoured vehicles, once again the 6th Armoured Division. Then I saw Guardsmen along the route in tents and in groups standing around and I knew at last we were back with our battalion. The truck stopped, we got out and looking around, I saw a sergeant of the Welsh Guards. I approached him and asked the way to the Coldstream H.Q. He pointed to a hillside across a large field strewn with small groves. Along with Chuck and Tippy and myself, we made our way over the field and then I saw for the first time for days, the sight of our own lads.

Once again explanations and questioning from the C.O. Major Harris, of our battalion, then along with a corporal I followed him to my Company H.Q. I shall never forget the moment I walked into the tent Of my Company Commander Major Harris? He took one look at me and in the next few minutes told me exactly what I looked like. A disgrace to the Brigade of Guards, meaning of course the condition I was in. I do admit I must have looked something like a tramp instead of a Guards N.C.O. Even though I knew myself it was no use making excuses and trying to get out of a good ticking off. Of all the telling off I got, I knew my Company Officer was only doing what any officer would have done seeing any of his men in the state I looked.

I wondered how Tippy and Chuck were faring in their Company. My Company was No.4 and this was the Company I was with previous to Cassino. The same officer was still Company Commander. Later when I joined the platoon, I learned from the section I was Pu~v over, that several officers, including Stonewall Jackson and other ranks had been killed in the push through the valley. An old buddy of mine in Section No.2 had been killed by a schu mine and also the officer of No.1 Company had been killed along with the N.C.O's and most of the company.

It was now about the middle of May and from the section I found that a large scale attack was being put in before very long. This would be an attack on the Hitla Line towards the advance on Rome. Highway 6 and Highway 7 being the two main routes the various divisions would take.

It seemed I was not going to get much rest although I was proved wrong. For over a week we remained in our positions, our main duties being night sentry work and in the day, weapon cleaning and being fully equipped. Once again I had a full kit and felt more like a soldier should. During our stay in the Pignataro area, I learned that many of the battalion had become separated during the first push over the Garigliano, so our little skirmish had been only one of many. We were lucky, many had not returned to the battalion.

Over to the east where we were now resting lay Cassino. In front, minor roads leading to Highway 6 which led to Rome. My section consisted of one corporal whom I knew from the days in North Africa, the rest of the section consisted of one bren gunner and seven riflemen. Our weapons were kept clean so was all our kit and it was nothing unusual to be paraded for inspection even though the Germans were only about fifteen miles away from our area.

Then the order came for all platoon officers to report to H.Q. This was it I thought, once again into action and I was right. Our officer came back and with all the N.C.O's of the company, we learned that our brigade had reverted to the command of the 6th Armoured Division; objective Rome. Only one main road was to the front of most of the allied troops in the Lira valley. To get to this main route, there were only a few minor roads. But there were many small rutty roads which linked the small Italian hamlets to each other. Even so, these roads would not take all the forces needed for the main attack so large bulldozers were brought up and large paths were made which ran in the proper direction. All this went on towards our front as we prepared for the advance.

I had time during the last week to catch up on my letters to home also to receive letters which, when handed to me₉ amounted to over ten. Eventually we readily prepared to move off. Routes had been named in the event of misguided vehicles or lost trucks and for also reasons of movements of divisions.

I remember the route we followed, the Spade route. We marched off in single file following the paths and small roads marked cut with white tape. Towards night a terrific barrage of artillery started from our left flank and also at times over our heads, to which we all felt a little disturbed. We made positions early next morning one mile west of Highway 6 on the hillside near to the town of Aquino. Near too, lay the Canadians who were to attack on about a two mile front. We had only been in our positions about an hour when orders came to move forward, more to our left.

I remember a little about this move as at the time I was writing a letter home wishing my wife a happy wedding anniversary, which was on the 30th May. So it would be about the 22nd or 23rd May when we moved away as I just had time to get my letter to the company post before we moved.

Our orders were to try to penetrate the enemy lines which lay to our front, so once again the old "butterflies in the stomach" started. We moved quietly and slowly through rocky ground at times stumbling up steep hillsides and then suddenly finding ourselves in small green vallies. We knew the 78th Division were in our line as one or two of their reconnaissance vehicles had been along with us. To our right lay the Canadians who were still trying to dislodge the Germans from Aquino. This had resulted in the advance of the 78th Division whose intention was to thrust forward and get to Highway 6 before being held up. Our progress was slow and wearisome as the ground was now starting to get marshy and also in the event of attack or severe shell fire from the Germans, I noticed there was not a lot of cover. I was hoping that we would soon reach more cover otherwise in the event of shelling, our chances were not so good.

As I stumbled along with my section, I looked around and could see the rest of the battalion strung out in extended line as far as the eye could see. Rumbling along in close support were tanks and vehicles of the 6th Armoured Division. Suddenly word came to halt and a runner came along and informed the sections in our platoon that we were to deplore to a small rise to our right which I could see was covered in scrub and rocks. At least I thought, this was some sort of cover I much preferred from the point of view of cover for the section.

As we made our way over to the rise in the ground, it gave us a view of the ground on our right. Looking over, I could see lines of armour and vehicles making their way through muddy fields and what was once a minor road leading far away to the east side of our battalion. There were tanks and trucks, bren carriers, all stopped by the wayside with others passing through. I learned later that the armour passing through was mostly Canadian whilst the 6th Armoured Division sat waiting to move up behind the main advance.

However, I reached the rise in the ground and our platoon officer came round and informed me that we were to dig in and post sentries and await further orders. I also understood that the Germans held a strong line in front of us which included Aquino on our right and to the west, a line running nearly level with the River Milfa.

On our right lay the 78th Division in reserve so I presumed, as I had not yet seen of this division alongside us, as I said previously that we were attached to the 6th Armoured Corp Division. The position my section was in was at least on high ground although the weather was still wet at least the day's warm sun was consolation for the cold nights. After posting two sentries and then checking the weapons, I left the corporal on duty while I snatched a few hours sleep, or at least that's what I thought I was going to do.

I had no sooner settled down with my head resting on my steel helmet, when a runner came up and in about five minutes the area was a hive of activity, no rest. This was the usual thing that happened. If one looked for a brief rest, you never got one but if one felt fresh and ready for the fray, one could bet that you would be heading for a rest area. Such was the peculiar ways of army life in wartime.

With grumbles, groans and cursing, we assembled as a section awaiting orders to move. It was not long before I was summoned along with other N.C.O's of the platoon, to the Company H.Q. position. There sitting around with the rest of the battalion officers and N.C.O's, we received the news which we were to carry back to our sections. It seemed that we were to push on and our objective would be the station at Roccaseoca.

To me the name didn't mean a thing, in my mind I had visions of a railway station, most likely evacuated by the Germans and comfortable billets when we took over. We had previously heard that the Germans were pulling out and making for Rome and our thoughts seemed to be it would be just a case of following up, mopping up and occupying the various villages and towns the Germans had left. One expected action at any time also one never knew if you would be in the thick of it or in reserve. All I knew was being the Guards (with due respect to other units), we always seemed to be filling gaps and being in the forward line.

Our advance would be at dawn, which was now only about four hours away so the thought of sleep was out of the question. Perhaps a quick nap, but I could never sleep once I knew the day following meant action. I walked slowly back to my section, my thoughts being the reactions of the men when I broke the news to them. They were all sprawled on the bottom of their small slit trenches when I returned. They knew by the look on my face that I was not bringing glad tidings.

When one is an N.C.O. many orders have to be given which are usually greeted with the British soldier's comments of "Why don't so and so do the b……… job" or, "Who the b…….. hell do they think we are". Not withstanding all the comments an N.C.O. gets, the British soldier in my opinion is the best one can have at your side in times of danger and emergency. I cannot describe the comradeship one finds in a few men who are drawn together in wartime. Although differences of opinion are found amongst all of us, to be with a small section for months on end through fighting and rest periods, there seems a bond that even death on the battlefield never breaks. My section were from all walks of life and yet each one would sacrifice his life to save another. You will see what I mean by supreme sacrifice for a comrade in arms by your side.

Monte Cassino lay just south of Rome, the monastery that lay at the top is known as one of the oldest cultural centre's in Europe.

Mount Cassino After allied bombing

It is the Benedictine Monks original monastery and in it were some of the most sacred relics. There were that many irreplacable volumes in its vaults that the number was not really known. Statues of great value, expensive paintings by great masters, to Say nothing about the historic carvings and the goldsmith work on crucifixs and woodwork.

The Benedictine order has had its home in the Monastery, since the year 550 (aprox). To come was the most sort of desperate fighting the walls, statues, the basilica,to be pounded with shell fire, bombing from the air and the severe fighting on the slopes by the Germans and the Allied forces.

The town of Cassina was also to suffer great destruction its well built houses and the Hotel Continental very soon to be masses of rubble with dead laying all about in the ruins and on the slopes.

Now the Monastery and the town were occupied by the troops of Germany. By Christmas 1945 the whole area held, had been fortified by Hitlers orders. Panzer Divisions, and infantry divisions amongst them being the Hermann Goring Division, a very experienced division.

On the Allied front the Polish Division of General Anders and the Division of General Freybergs New Zealanders were holding the line south of the River Rapido. This ran across the front of the slopes of Monte Cassino, held further back along Highway 6 lay the Allied 78th Division (The Battleaxe Sign), then waiting with their armour was the 6th Armoured Div, (The mailed fist sign).

In May the Monastery was bombed, over 5,000 tons of bombs were dropped, destroying the walls and the interior of the Monastery.

Even so the Germans still held out in their very deep bunkers and came out after the bombing to repulse attacks from the Poles and a battalion of the Indian Division. Amongst them being the French Goums who had a reputation of taking no prisoners.

Thousands of lives were lost in the next few weeks, on both sides until finally the Allies broke through, as the Germans withdrew from the Cassino area.

I told the section what to expect during our advance in the morning. Mine fields would be the main danger as the sappers owing to the rapid advance, could not just cope with all the ground the division would be advancing through. Also ahead, lay the river Milfa which would have to be crossed unless our armour could take the bridges which crossed at various points.

Dawn came and to my surprise, instead of our infantry being supported by the armour, we found ourselves going forward in single file with no armour in sight. For about two miles we marched on with the sound of explosions to our front being nearer and nearer. We seemed to be making for high ground to our right and very soon we were marching on a wide road which proved to be Highway 6. Now tanks and armour of all types were mingled in with the marching troops on each side of the road. This seemed easy, and some of the platoon were singing and seemed to be enjoying it as if they were on a route march back in England but soon the singing was to stop.

I walked in front of my section and looking over my shoulder could see the section were in high spirits. It seemed to me that this was just a case of keep marching, follow the armour and so far no encounter with the Germans. Then it happened. All of a sudden shells began to drop on the convoys and the lines of troops. To make things worse, one or two German fighting planes swooped out of the sky and began to straff the columns of trucks and men. As we all dived as one man into the scrub at the side of the road, a shell landed about twenty yards to our front. In a few minutes the road was a shambles with burnt out trucks, knocked out tanks and bodies of our troops strewn along the road and wayside.

We were helpless to do anything we could, not even see anything to fire at. I crawled over to a badly wounded Guardsman who had caught a piece of shrapnel in the stomach, he was in a bad way but was still conscious. I managed to undo his battle dress and using his field bandage, I wrapped it round his stomach although the blood still kept seeping through. I then used my own field dressing but with no avail, he died while I still held his head in my arms. I left him and returning to my section, awaited orders from the platoon. They soon came, we were to go forward with troops from the Derbyshire Yeomanry and cross the River Milfa and attempt to consolidate positions on the opposite banks.

The river lay about five hundred yards to our front. We left the road and deploying in sections and platoons, crawled, wriggled, walked and ran towards the river banks.

Our advance had been seen by the Germans and they were losing no time in letting us know they knew our intentions. Bursts of machine gun fire spat up the ground all around us, then to make matters worse, mortar bombs started to fall around. I felt the blast of one as I wriggled forward to the top of the river bank. My section lay prone each side of me. I had small cover and could see the river was not much more than a stream although on the further banks I noticed they were steep and the Derbyshire Yeomanry were having trouble getting their more heavy weapons up the bank.

We gave covering fire and were firing at positions I could see held by the Germans on the ground which lay about twenty yards from the top of the steep river banks. Our fire kept the enemies grounded but their mortar fire was taking casualties amongst our men.

Units of the 10th Rifle Brigade were now coming up in the rear and along with the Derbyshire Yeomanry were establishing a lot of ground on the opposite banks of the Milfa. The Germans were putting up a very stubborn resistance and their mortaring and shelling had taken a large effect on the troops left on the near bank to give covering fire. I wriggled over to my bren gunner who was on my left and was informed that his ammunition was running low so I sent a runner to Company H.Q. asking for bren gun ammunition also grenades, which we had not been issued with since Pignataro.

I saw him returning about twenty minutes later with another Guardsman and noticed they were walking upright as if they were taking a stroll through Hyde Park. I yelled out for them to keep their heads down and get the ammunition here quickly. Just as I had finished shouting above the noise of rifle fire, I saw the Guardsman who I had sent, suddenly drop the bren gun magazines and drop on his face. The other Guardsman threw himself down beside the body and I could see him picking up the bren magazines and then he started to crawl back to our position. He reached us quite safe and looking at him I asked him what had happened. He told me that Guardsman Harris had been shot clean between the eyes and was dead.

I knew the Germans were using snipers from the opposite bank. Their fire had been coming from an old farm building which was partly destroyed by shelling. It had small windows where the glass was blown out, but the troops of our division were landing more to the right and the German snipers seemed to be ignoring the main assault troops and concentrating on lone figures on our side of the river.

All our positions along the bank were aware of the sniping going on that is why we were keeping our heads down although my section seemed to have more cover than the rest of the platoon. Soon night time came and I wondered when the orders would come for us to cross the river. As I previously stated, the river was not too deep, the main concern was trying to get the more heavier weapons up the steep banks on the other side.

Then a strange thing happened, I saw shapes on the opposite banks begin to appear and slide down the steep river banks. At once firing broke out all along our line but then voices were heard shouting "Stop shooting you b……. fools, its the Yeomanry". Expecting this might be a ruse on the part of the Germans we waited until the first few shapes emerged on our side and then I saw they were the Derbyshire Yeomanry. They had found it impossible to consolidate on the opposite banks further up stream owing to the fact that they could not get their supporting weapons across. So back to square one, as one might say. Very soon the whole British army seemed to be coming back across the Milfa but what amazed me was the fact that no sign of the Germans could be seen. Why had they not taken advantage of our troop's withdrawal?

At daylight we found why. The Germans had at last left Aquino and all their troops to the west had retreated with them. This accounted for the snipers being left by the enemy. Where we expected to fight a fierce battle on the Milfa, it was now proving to be easy going. At least this break in the tension gave us a change to enjoy a hot breakfast which meant the old tinned sausages coming out and being grilled over a covered fire which we built in an old tin.

Those sausages never tasted better, even washed down with rain water. Also to help our morale, we learned the Germans were retreating through the Lira Valley. This was cause for relaxation, at least for the present time. Our officer informed me that we would be staying on in our positions for the day and to get some rest while the opportunity lasted. One never knew how long a rest period would last.

Now the troops were crossing the river, some of the lads were even stripping off their clothes and taking a well earned bath or swim. I posted a lookout sentry and went to sleep.

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