The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders (Princess Louise's)

It's O.K. They Are Ours © Tom Barker

"We'd found an old Boche dug-out and he knew,
And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
Hammered on top, but never quite burst through."
Wilfred Owen

"Pass auf yunger, sie can yezt bett leigen bis morgen und den weider arbieten, nicht war!" warbled the Guard. (Ayup boyo, now you can go to bed and get ready for more work tomorrow, O.K.)

"Up yours, yu Kraut pilluck!" snarled one of the lads sticking up a fist with one middle finger poking to the sky.

"Yea!" joined in another voice, "Right up!"

Another tired voice offered, "If you blokes keep pokin' 'im up the ass, he's goin' ti hev ti get sum o' they stiff toed ballet shoes so 'e cin walk 'ome still touching the ground."

It was moments like this when I thought the Tommy spirit was priceless. I got a mental picture of a balloon that had escaped the clutches of a child's hand and was now bouncing over the hedge rows urged on by the ever playful breeze. Instead of bursting when poked by a twig on a tree, it merely bounced up, and urged on again by the playful breeze, sailed away to freedom.

However, we got through the gate and lined up and the usual Guard came out of the Guardroom and strolled across our front using his pencil like a Conductor in front of the German Philharmonic Orchestra while muttering half to himself, "Eins, zwei, drei, veir," (one two three four). On getting to the end of the line, he made an entry in his note book then told the other Guard we could be dismissed.

Having mooched to the barred wire gate of our compound and passed through it, the Guard, who having followed us, now bolted and padlocked the gate, then turned and went back to the Guard room and we to our respective barrack huts, where most just flopped down on his own bunk in their own rooms.

Then the grub debate was re-kindled," Ah wunder wit the Goons is chuckin' inti oor trough ternite?" warbled a tired voice from a bottom bunk.

"Who cares?" added another tired voice, "Ah just wish ah could go ti sleep an' no wake up ti the chuffin' war wis ower an' done wi'!"

"Aye!" warbled another voice, "But it cood be oan the cairds ye woke up an' 'ev anither nichtmare, cos the bliddy Krauts hed won the war, and we wuz penned up in 'ere fi the rest of oor lives. Ded ye no gi' thaat a wee bitty thocht, Jimmy?"

Then big Taffy added his two pennorth, "The Ger-manns will nev-ver win this wun ei-ther boyo. They 'as too men-ny blokes vy-in' for top jobs. Don't yew see?"

"Taffies reet." warbled Yorky. "Hitler might be good wi 'his gob, but he is no strategist. Onny a pompous oaf would demand that an Army stand it's ground with no support and allow 'em to starve and freeze to death in the Russian mud. Where were the supporting flanks that should have stopped the Rusky's getting' ahint 'em an cuttin' 'em off?" People like Hitler only think of themselves. The only interest they have in anyone else is if the person can advance Hitler's schemes and dreams, and if they lose the plot, tough! Hitler can always get some other stooge to stand in for him if it goes wrong!"

"Ah ken wot ah wid like ti cut aff!" sighed a Greenock voice.

"Yo got Buckly's chance o' getting' a snapshot wi a bleed'n' telescopic lens camera owd mate, let alone getting' near enough tu de-nut owd Adolf!" offered a native of Brum.

"Ah did 'ear he's ony got wun nut any road, so the chances of us gettin' another Adolf are halved, so to speak!"

Then the triangle began its jingle jangle and the blokes detailed, set off to fetch the evening stew.

It was now dark outside and as the two blokes opened the barracks door the air raid sirens began their practicing the scales bit. Up and down the scale they wailed, then suddenly all the lights in the camp were out.

The two lads with the Dixie suddenly burst through the door of our barracks and one waffled, "Ahm no goin' up there wi' nae lichts oan, yu cud get shot!"

Then a Guard was at the door and screaming, "Alles rous mit ihr!" (everybody out )

And it became like a follow your leader game as the Guard set off like a mother duck with all her ducklings (us) fetching up the rear. The Guard led us to the rear of our huts and down into some slit trenches that were lined with corrugated sheets of metal to keep the side from collapsing, since the ground appeared very sandy. Once down and through the entrance, we discovered the trench had been covered over by more sheets of the same metal and about three feet of sand, so we were more at ease on realizing that at least we were protected from the fall out of what was being pumped up into the air where it exploded and jagged pieces of metal would zip back to earth and with a thud would bury themselves about a foot or even deeper down.

Then we heard the drone of many aircraft way up high as searchlights began to probe the dark night sky. Anti aircraft guns began to pound, as shell after shell was pumped out of anti aircraft gun barrels, and suddenly the black sky would be lit up by (flaming onions) that looked like a flaming string of beads climbing ever higher like some fisherman's net hoping to snare a prize.

We cowed down in the bunker and saw the silhouette of our Guard every time there was a flash in the sky, since he was near the opening to the bunker, and one of our lads suggested we go nearer to the entrance of the bunker to get a better view. But then there was a, 'zzzzip' and a heavy, 'thud' and the Guard stepped back muttering, "Shizer und farfluchter noch mal!" (Oh s**t!)

And one of our lads warbled, "E's gor a bleed'n' tin at on, but we ain't. Stuff 'im! Ahm stayin' put in 'ere'!"

There was a lull and silence for about three minutes and we thought, "Ah well, that's it for another night." then a shrill whistle, like The Flying Scotsman coming at full speed out of a tunnel, screamed down on us and everyone cowered, waiting for the crash. A huge blast of hot air seemed to search down our tunnel and there was an almighty crash on the ground that made it shudder. It felt like the trench we were cowering in had side stepped about six meters to the South. With ringing ears I heard a voice warble, "Jazus, now that's wot ah calls a near miss!" and, "Gi' that bugger a cigar God!"

Another voice requested, "Hez anybody gor any spare paper?"

Now shaken and covered in loose sand, we calmed down and listened to the silence that was eerie, but all I could hear was a high pitched ringing in my ears. I asked one of our lads if he could hear the whistle, but he just put his hand to one ear and asked loudly, "Yu wot?"

Two or three minutes later in the distance there were several huge flashes, and seconds later, "Wump, wump, wump, wump, wump," that almost sounded like a long roll of thunder was heard, and we guessed it was bombs raining down and detonating on the unfortunates of the Third Riech.

In the morning at roll call, our Camp Commandant informed us that there would be no work today, since the bloke that drove the train had lost his box of matches in the air raid last night and could not light the fire in the firebox of his engine. On looking through the wire we could see the Railway yard near Teltow and it had one rail line pointing to the sky with a couple of wooden sleepers still hanging on to it, while the other line was bent like a stick of licorice over the station platform.

We were also informed that a bomb had fallen on the rail yard near our Camp and a metal splinter had scythed through the tall grass outside our camp like a huge lawn mower and had carried on through the camp hospital, making a long gash through the woodwork and killing one of our blokes in his sick bed.

Two days later the Guards took the body of our mate for burial. The Camp Commandant regretted that no one could attend the funeral because, once outside the wire, we might be tempted to scarper and then more funerals would have to take place.