A Private War: The diaries of Frederick George Draper 1939 to 1945

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In creating this book I would like to thank several people.

I could not have done this without the support of my family. My husband Bruce has helped and encouraged me every step of the way, proofreading, editing suggestions, 24-hour IT support, helping with the photo selection, and endless cups of tea. Thank you so much, Bruce.

In the years that followed my father’s death, my mother gifted all of my father’s army memorabilia to my son, Jack. So, I thank him for allowing me access to the collection.

Thank you, Darran O’Brien, my son-in-law, for proofreading and offering insightful historical information. 

I’d like to thank my sister Jane, who now lives in Australia, for coming up with the title of the book, something I was struggling with. 

My publisher, James Wharton of Zsa Zsa Publishing, for agreeing to take on this project. For all his expertise, support, guidance, and answering my endless questions ultimately enabling me to see my determination come to fruition.

I am also very grateful to Grace Ridley, who started the ball rolling with the transcribing and subsequently proofreading all eight diaries. 

The Record Office for Leicestershire, Leicester & Rutland for kindly scanning all of the diaries and memorabilia, so that they could become accessible for research and interest purposes for future generations.

My thanks go to The Royal Leicestershire Regiment, for creating a special page for my father on their Tigers website and for subsequently allowing me to use the historical information regarding the 2nd Battalion. 

Thank you to The Burma Star Memorial Fund (Incorporating the Burma Star Association).

Salvation Army, who my father said helped them so much and treated them so well during the war, thank you.

In the process of transcribing his diaries, I experienced many incredible things. One is connecting with the grandson of his best army pal William Bill Whitmore. Thanks to social media, Aron Shilcock and I have shared many stories and photos and chatted about memories of when the two families used to get together for Sunday lunches, weddings and the occasional trip out. As a child, I remember much laughter and happiness between Bill and my father to the point they laughed so much they couldn’t speak, reminiscing the old days. Thanks, Aron.

FOREWORD

I have known that these diaries existed for most of my life, carefully stored in my family home in a small Ovaltine Rusk tin, tucked away with other memorabilia items from that era. Very rarely were they spoken about; occasionally I remember seeing the collection, but as a young child probably needed to take more notice and was certainly not aware of their importance.

Frederick George Draper was born on November 29, 1919, to Eliza Insley and Alfred Draper in a small worker's cottage in the rural village of Smisby, South Derbyshire. Born the fourth child and only boy in the family, he enjoyed a carefree early childhood, playing with his schoolfriends in the lanes, climbing trees and scaring each other with stories in the churchyard. Sadly, his father fell ill and passed away at 43 due to injuries sustained during World War One, propelling a six-year-old boy to become the 'man' of the house. As he grew, he took on more responsibilities, working as a grocery delivery boy. On a large bike, he would deliver to the local and neighbouring villages. He was a keen sportsman, and his favourite passion was cycle racing, winning several accolades. He loved anything to do with motorsport and he used to bike with his mates over to Donington Park and climb through the fence to watch the motorbikes and cars racing there.

He was 20 when the war was declared in 1939. Like many others, no doubt influenced by propaganda to an extent, he was eager to sign up and do his bit for King and country. He was soon trained at Wigston Barracks, the home of the Royal Leicestershire Regiment. On Friday, August 2, 1940, the first entry in his diary, he sets off to sea on board the S.S. Otranto with thousands of other troops via Princes Dock in Liverpool. Little did he know it would be almost five years before he stepped foot on English soil again.

I had thought for some time that the diaries would be of greater historical importance, other than just a treasured family legacy. This a first-hand account of the life of a young man from a small village in Derbyshire, who, like many others, was hurled into an extraordinary existence of travel, excitement, loss, pain, and camaraderie. I discovered eight diaries of different thicknesses and bindings housed in this rather wonderful old tin for decades. They were marked and worn with time and travel weariness. When I started to read them, they brought to life aspects of a person I had no knowledge of; I had only ever known Fred as my father, not as the boy, man or soldier his diaries paint a picture of. As a family, we also had photos, his military logbooks, sign-up papers and the road map of India and Ceylon plotting his route through the war. This, collectively, is not just the story of my father's experience of the Second World War but crucial evidential documents that I knew should be significant to the historical record. 

In 2019, as my interest grew, I contacted the archivists of the Royal Leicestershire Regiment, who accommodated adding my father's name to the memorial roll call. They also put me in touch with the Records Office for Leicestershire and Rutland, who were thrilled to know that such first-hand primary research existed. I felt vindicated that my instincts on these documents had been proven correct. They offered to scan everything, and now, thanks to them, others can research and access the collection. Who knows ... perhaps there's another person out there just waiting for a crumb of information to appear, to help them experience what I have been able to, thanks to these documents.

In August 2022, I began transcribing the diaries, converting his handwritten entries into the modern format of the word processor. A mammoth task as his writing was small and almost, in some cases, illegible. But like any good story, I became engrossed. At times it made me laugh; I could hear my father's impatience and annoyance at the failings of others. Other moments brought tears of sadness, reading of war's pain, suffering and injustices. I also had to become a detective, deciphering many of the place names he visited (some of which have since changed) and the many military acronyms he liked to use. I've become quite the expert in this field. 

Frequently, over the months I have been working on these diaries, I have asked myself why he chose to write them. The most likely reason to me is that he wanted a record to share when he returned home. He may have had the foresight to know they might help him deal with the unknown memories his daily existence was, and would continue to, cement as he progressed through the war. It does appear he was writing to someone as he entered the information of what his days entailed, possibly a girlfriend. These are the slight mysteries that remain and perhaps always will. 

Sadly, he lost the first part of his diary somewhere in the Far East, which he retrospectively recreated from memory, which I have repeated word-for-word at the start of this book. It must have been so burdensome to carry this stuff around with him, particularly when you consider how much he moved around - which becomes apparent in his records.

Like most people who have experienced war, it is often difficult to talk openly about some horrors and experiences. During the post-war era, the men were discouraged from speaking about their time abroad with family and told emphatically to 'just get on with life'. I know from speaking with my mother that in the early years of their relationship, he didn't know how to talk to women, having spent five years in the company of men. He also hated to be in confined spaces, causing panic attacks, and he often had to leave a room abruptly. 

When I was a child, there were odd occasions when he was happy to open up about his past experiences. I remember being shown a tea leaf from Ceylon and a piece of the Taj Mahal. It was only when I read the dairies I discovered how he came by them. Another striking memory is of one evening when my mother was at work (she was a night sister at a local hospital). I found him sitting beside a reading lamp on the bed, digging something out of his thumb with a needle. On enquiring what he was doing, he said, I'm digging out a piece of shrapnel that has come to the surface. Today, that little metallic piece of history, wrapped in cotton wool and placed in a ring box, has been lost. But, while transcribing these diaries, I've remembered it often.

Sunday lunch was always a special time in our house; shared togetherness with great home-cooked food. Sat around the dining table with my sisters, Linda and Jane (we always ate at the table), he announced that the family name Draper was about to cease. He was the only boy in his family to carry on the male line, and we were all girls; hence no one to carry on the family name. Laughing, he said the only way the family name would continue is if one of you girls marries a Draper from another family and has a son. What are the chances of that, you may think?

Eight years on, I met my husband, Bruce, and would you ever believe it ... his name was Draper. I have reminded him often that I did not solely marry him for his name. 

In time we had our beautiful daughter Emily (named after my father's sister, Pem). Having endured two miscarriages, I was convinced I could not carry a boy. However, after four years, we were delighted to have a son, Jack Frederick Draper. Sadly, my father had passed away before Jack was born, as they would have got on so well, sharing many similar attributes and interests. He's very much his grandfather's grandson. Today, Jack lives in Norway with his beautiful wife, Monica. They are the proud parents of two sons, Aksel and Benjamin Finnøy Draper.

I remember my father as proud with impeccable manners. Skilled, he could turn his hand to anything, especially woodwork. Naturally, he could service and repair a car with his eyes closed. He was a perfectionist, which meant we had a lovely home and one we could all be proud of. He was generous and helpful, especially to those in need, and I have since learned of the many ways in which he came to the aid of others. He was a great provider and ensured we had a yearly summer holiday. The Isle of Wight is still my favourite place on earth. 

My father died suddenly of a heart attack on May 4, 1987. He was 67; it's a day I'll never forget.

What would my father think about this book? I'm not sure. He always wanted to write his life story and used to ask me what a good title might be. 

And so it is, A Private War. I hope I've done you justice, Dad. 

Carol Draper

Jul. 2023.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

For the purpose of clarity, some of the original language used in the writing of these diaries has been changed.

Book One

Owing to the first part of my diary having been lost on the following pages, I have tried to recollect all the important incidents, but this is by no means every detail and incident that the original contained.

On Friday August 2nd, 1940, we left Shaw Street Barracks Liverpool and went back to Aintree racecourse, under canvas. That night Bill went home to get married and that was the last I hear of him until later in Egypt.

At 6:30 next morning, (Saturday August 3rd) we packed our kit and were taken by train down to the exchange station and from there marched through the city to the docks. It was on Princes dock that we found our ship (the Otranto) over 22,000 tons. About 12:30, we marched up the gangway and then down below to our living quarters. There were mess decks and we were packed in like cattle with hardly a breath of air and no room to move around. About 4 o’clock, the ship pulled out into the Mersey and we stayed half way between Liverpool and New Brighton. That night out came the hammocks and there were some laughs trying to get in them, but no one got any sleep for we were so close together, that the sweat and smell was terrible.

Sunday, Aug. 4th

We still stayed in the same place all day and the ferry steamers kept passing either side of the ship with holidaymakers to and from New Brighton. They waved and cheered us, but it felt like being in prison not being able to get off and join them.

Monday, Aug. 5th

The same as yesterday we stayed here all day. There were more holidaymakers than ever and we all got browned off with being cooped up, but at 10.30pm the engines started out and to sea we went.

Tuesday, Aug. 6th

When we got on deck this morning we were right out at sea. With us was the Empress of Britain, Empress of Canada, Andes and several others plus cargo boats. We had an escort of five destroyers and three cruisers. It was very cold.

The following 3 days were very cold for we almost touched Iceland and then out into the Atlantic. The escort stayed with us for five days and then they all left us except one cruiser (The Shropshire). By this time, it was lovely on deck at night, with a lovely moon and the phosphorus in the water seemed to light up the whole ship. For the next few days, it got hotter and hotter and was unbearable down below in our quarters. We walked around in shorts with a towel on to mop up the sweat and the place soon stunk of sweat. I used to sleep on deck; I couldn’t stick it.

On the 15th of August at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, we sighted land and as we drew nearer, we could make out palm trees and little white houses dotted amongst them. It looked really lovely, but as so hot and sticky that it made one feel sick. It was (Freetown) on the gold coast and we stayed there until 2pm on the following day taking on water and oil but were not allowed ashore. It was here that the locals amused us by diving in the sea for pennies but soon cleared off when a shark was spotted. I just saw its fin sticking out of the water. The following days were even hotter and they put large white sun shades up over the decks. One night when I was on guard, I saw what looked like a wall of fire on the horizon and it gradually drew nearer. It turned out to be a hospital ship and passed very close to us. It looked lovely, odd lit up and painted white, to our dull blackout.

We used to get PT every morning and boat drill, but the rest of the day was our own. The food was terrible all the time, fish and curried rice being the chief thing. What we looked on as a good meal was frozen bully and pickles.1 It was at this point in the voyage that my shirt was stolen, containing my watch, wallet, ciggies, pen and pay books. I never did find anything about them.

On Wednesday August 28th, when we got up on deck about 7am we were just drawing into the docks. It was Cape Town and it looked lovely with its large Yankee type buildings and Table Mountain in the background.

At 12.30 we were all paraded for inspection and allowed ashore until midnight. There were three of us palled together and the first thing we did was to send a cable home and then look around the town, which was very modern with trolleybuses and every detail. It was while we were looking around that we got an invitation out to dinner by a lady who owned a large ladies outfitters shop, and she asked us to the shop at 6pm…. so away we went again.

A few minutes later, we got an invitation into a large insurance office where all the office girls wanted to know so much about England. We spent a very pleasant hour there and had to refuse about a dozen invitations out to dinner but as soon as we left there a large car pulled up (the chief of police) and asked us to dine with him, but of course we had to refuse. Later on we were looking in a furniture shop (Jack Perry had been a manager in that trade) when the manager asked us in, he showed us round the stock, and drank to England in his office. He was very disappointed when we could not dine with him. At 6 o’clock we returned to the shop where we found Mr and Mrs Rosenthal waiting for us with the car and they drove us to their home (14 Quendon Mansions, Quendon Road, Seapoint). It was a lovely place and we were introduced to the two daughters, one 15 the other 17, the latter I got on with very well and she asked me to write to her. We had dinner in every detail and cigars and drinks afterwards. They had servants and they were very polite. We stayed until 11:30 and then they took us down to the docks, loaded down with oranges, sweets, biscuits and cigarettes and an invitation to go the next day.

The following morning, we were taken round to the town on a route march but didn’t do much from there. Arrangements, cigarettes, sweets and chocolate were being thrown to us from all the office and shop girls (we couldn’t go wrong). We returned to the ship for dinner and were allowed off again from 2 till midnight but we did not go to Seapoint again. It looked a bit cheeky, so we went to the flicks instead. When we came out, we were picked up in a car and taken to a house at the foot of Table Mountain where we had dinner. They had three sons and four daughters and they had little land for dancing. I forgot their names, but I remember one (Elsie), I got on very well with her. She worked in Springbok Tobacco factory offices and gave me her office number and told me to call the following afternoon with my pack and she would fill it with cigs. She took us back to the docks in the car and told us where it was garaged during the day and we could borrow it. We also had a great load of stuff to get on the boat with again.

But the following day was very disappointing for at 10 am they took us on a route march right out of town and then told us it was our last time ashore. (Did everyone’s face drop) very much so, it was one big grumble all the way back to the ship. I thought of Elsie’s cigarettes and the car, but it was no good, it had come to an end. About 4 o’clock that afternoon we pulled out of dock and formed into convoy for the open sea. I’ll never forget the lads faces as we pulled out, everyone walked around as if they were going to be shot, (many were) far different from leaving England, but I’d never seen such hospitality not even in England.

As we pulled out to sea a Defiant of the South African Air Force flew around and the pilot and gunner were just as lively. They kept diving down, just skimming the deck and leaning out of the cockpit waving like mad, but we didn’t feel much like waving.

Up to this time we’d had lovely weather and a calm sea but going round the Cape we ran into rough weather and the whole ship began to roll and rise, but not too bad. I felt queer or one day but was not sick, although a good many of the lads were and turned green and all colours.2

The next place we called was Aden but did not go into port.  It was here that the Shropshire left us, about 5 o’clock one evening. It was announced on the ships wireless and all other ships made two lines and the Shropshire sailed in between with all her crew on board and they cheered back as we cheered them.

Next morning, we had five destroyers with us and they escorted us into Port Suez where we stayed for another two days and on the 18th of Sept, they took us off on lighters and we said goodbye to Otranto.  When we got on shore we were put on an Egyptian train, (like cattle trucks and the slowest in the world). We had a 4-hour ride and got off at Geneifa. There was nothing there and we slept out for three nights until they got some tents.

The Suez Canal was close by and we used to go swimming in the Bitter Lake. It was here that Jack Perry, Lol Maynard and myself got split up for they sent us in different lots to the Batt, but Jack stayed behind on an office job and then went in dock with paralysis and later on went home. He had the original diary with him but lost it through moving from hospital to hospital.It was here that I was picked out with six others to do a guard of honour to Anthony Eden³.

And that’s all I can remember of the best part.

-------------------------------------

(Written Dec 1942)

Book Two

Friday, Nov. 1st

We did not move today as expected, it will probably be tomorrow. I took my watch to be repaired about 10 days ago, at a small shop in the (camp) and it wasn’t done for today. The boss happened to be there when I went for it, so I told him I was moving. So he let me have a new one for 25 Piasters…. the price it was costing to mend the other. It is quite a decent little watch.

Saturday, Nov. 2nd

We are on the train now on our way up. The trains here are more like cattle trucks than passenger coaches and clouds of dust.

Sunday, Nov. 3rd (Sidi Haneish)

We got here about 12 noon after an 18-hour journey. It is not the front line; it is 4th line of defences. The sea is quite near and we are all in trenches and dugouts. It isn't too bad at all and we found quite a few of the old lads. I’m in 7 Section, 18 Platoon, D Company, and the second in charge is a Swannington chap called Albert Gilson.

Monday, Nov. 4th

We have been digging nearly all day and tonight at 12 we are going out for a dawn attack. We get some good grub here and plenty of tea.

Tuesday, Nov. 5th

We got back about 7:30 this morning; it was terribly cold being out all night. We have had all today off, but we have spent most of the day working on our dugout; it will be grand when it’s done.

Wednesday, Nov. 6th

We have been out all day on another stunt, with lots of Australians. We got back about 3 o’clock this afternoon and got our dinner about 5. There is one kid in here who’s got an accordion, so we are having a singsong tonight.

Thursday, Nov. 7th

We are going out on a two-day stunt at 12 o’clock midday and should get back at 7 o'clock Friday night.

Friday, Nov. 8th

We got back about 9 o’clock tonight after being lost for about 2 hours in the desert. We slept out last night in holes we dug out in the sand, but it wasn’t too bad. We were taken out and brought back in lorries, but with riding over rocks and bumps of the desert, we are all as sore as can be.

Saturday, Nov. 9th

There hasn’t been any stunts or parades today, so I did some washing this morning and we all went down for a swim after. It is a grand beach, all nice fine sand, no stones to stick in the feet; it is grand, and with all the lads being together it looked like a seaside in England. The sea is very clear too, but the waves are very strong and soon knocks me down with not being a very good swimmer.

Sunday, Nov. 10th

We haven't had anything to do today except go for a swim. I wrote a letter to you this afternoon and I also got two from you dated Aug 24 and Sept 3. It is good to get a letter in a dump like this, I wish they would come oftener.

Monday, Nov. 11th

We have been doing a bit of sandbagging to our dugout today and packing up for another stunt. We have a new fellow come into our section and he’s got a primus stove, so we’ve all put to and brought some tinned stuff, and we are having a fry up tonight.

Tuesday, Nov. 12th

We start off on this stunt at 2 o’clock this afternoon and it lasts for 3 days.  All marching, so it looks like being a good one. We’ve just had a fry up for dinner; eggs and cheese, it was quite good. We get a cold meal here at 12 and a hot meal at 6 o’clock. It is about time to stunt now and it's no good taking this with me, so there will be one or two days blank. We were given poppies today; I had forgotten it was poppy day yesterday.

Wednesday, Nov. 13th

Out in desert on a stunt.⁴

Thursday, Nov. 14th

We got back at 3 o’clock today and all tired out, some with blisters like half crowns, but I’m lucky I haven’t any.

When we marched out, we went up the escarpment about 5 miles and dug in for the night. Near morning we all set off again about 8 and marched til 4 in the afternoon.⁵ Then we dug in again and got down to it, but our section had to do A.A. so I didn’t get much sleep.⁶ The Italians had been around us doing a bit of bombing but none of our lot got hit. Reveille was at 4 this morning and after breakfast we did a bit of messing about and then set off marching back. When we got in we had come back in just over half a day and it has took us 1½ days to go out. 19½ miles were done since this morning and with not getting much sleep for two nights, everybody is about done in. We are just having a good fry up, eggs, peas, sausages and coffee and then I’m getting down for a decent sleep, I hope. It is 4:30 now. In parts of the way, we came back and the sand was like dust and over our ankle tops. As we trod in it, it rose in clouds and covered us. It was rotten, it made me think of pictures of the last war with dust instead of sludge.

Friday, Nov. 15th

I was a bit stiff this morning when I got up, but it soon wore off. We’ve been doing more sand bagging to our dug out today and a dip in the sea. It’s also payday, I’m on 31/- a day now but I don’t draw any more, I let it go to my credit. I’m going with some more chaps on a 4-day RAF guard in the morning on top of the escarpment. It gets bombed pretty often so we may get a bump or two.

Saturday, Nov. 16th

I’m up at the RAF camp now, got here about 9 o’clock this morning. It isn’t a bad guard and we get our meals with the RAF chaps in a wooden dining hall with tables and chairs. It is quite a change from sitting in the sand to eat it and its good food too, they all ways seem to look after the RAF.

Sunday, Nov. 17th

Still on guard. I’ve had the best Sunday dinner I’ve had for a long time, with pudding and custard. They have a canteen here and I’ve been eating tinned fruit and cream biscuits all day. About 4 o’clock today, 12 planes came down for the night and in the morning are going on to Greece. We had one or two Ities over last night and dropped some bombs.⁷ None were on the drome.⁸

Monday, Nov. 18th

Still on guard. I haven’t been very well today; I think it's with eating too much. Another 12 planes came down this afternoon for Greece, they will carry on tomorrow. We should go back in the morning about 9 o’clock, so I’ve bought a tin of pineapple and some chocolate to take back.

Tuesday, Nov. 19th

I’m back at the old place now.  We came back this morning and I’ve been doing a bit of digging and a swim to fill the rest of the day in. The most exciting thing today is I got an airmail letter from mother and Eva⁹. It took just over 5 weeks to get here, so it is real late news to me. I feel as pleased as punch.

Wednesday, Nov. 20th

We’ve been training with the Bren this morning and fixing bunks in the dugout this afternoon. They are wood frames with small wire netting stretched tight over, to act as springs. They are too high; it looks like a ship… Several of us had an interview with the C.O. today it was just to welcome us to this Battalion or some army gag, but I got my name put down for a driver, or an ambulance man, but it may be like all other attempts. ¹⁰

Thursday, Nov. 21st

We’ve been on the Bren again and fixing more bunks up, but mine isn’t done yet so I don’t know what they are like to sleep on…. We have had a few new blokes come today, they have just come out from England and are in the Leicesters but are all Londoners; so they must be mixing them up a bit now.

Friday, Nov. 22nd

It is about 2 o’clock now and at 3 we are going out on a stunt. It will last all night and we should get in about 6 in the morning. I posted a letter to mother this morning by air mail.

Saturday, Nov. 23rd

We got in at 3 o’clock this morning, it was sooner than expected, but of course we were pleased about that because we got about 3 hours sleep in. We spent the rest of the day finishing the bunks off. I’m lying on mine now. It’s grand just like a spring bed. The next job is to concrete the floor.

Sunday, Nov. 24th

We have had a day off, so it's been a day of rest, draughts and dominoes. It’s OK now we have beds. One of the new chaps who came up has shot himself today, it appears his wife and kiddie got killed in an air raid in London. We go out on another stunt in the morning for another day or two.

Monday, Nov. 25th

Out on stunt

Tuesday, Nov. 26th

Out on stunt

Wednesday, Nov. 27th

We got back at 10-30 this morning all done in, after spending the worst night I’ve ever spent. We set off at 7-30 Monday morning in lorries and were riding all day. At night we dug in and had our first meal. I had my first rum ration as the next morning (Tuesday) we were going under shell fire for the first time. (On this stunt we are near the Ities and have our rifles loaded, just in case.) MORE RUM. Next morning, we set out at 4 o’clock and marched all day till 4pm, then we made an attack. Tanks and shells whistled overhead which lasted till 5:30 when we withdrew. It was dark by now and we were going to get down for the night but our Plt. truck had got lost with our overcoats and blankets on. We had just shorts and shirts on in the perishing cold. We got a hot meal about 7 o’clock and then lay down with just a rubber ground sheet to cover us up and during the night it rained. I’ve never spent such a night before; it was so cold I got stiff and I could hardly move. As soon as we got up when it was daylight, we gathered all the scrub up and lit a fire, then we got a hot meal and started back. Our lorry had found us when it was daylight. We are getting down to it now and all have colds. I’ve fixed up some hot lemon and aspro.¹¹

Thursday, Nov. 28th

We have been working on the dugout today, putting a concrete floor in, but none of us did too much. It has been very cold again. I had a letter from mother, but it was posted before the one I got by air mail the other day. Posted Sept 19th.

Albert went into hospital.

Friday, Nov. 29th

I’m 21 today but of course it's no different from any other day in a dump like this, but I thought of all at home and knew you would be wishing me the best and old Sandy playing for me. I treated myself to a tin of pineapple and cream and got some chocolate and biscuits. It’s the first I’ve had for many a while, so I made myself a birthday…. I’ve started a letter to you.

Saturday, Nov. 30th

We have been firing the Bren this morning. I did quite well at it. About 11-45 a dust storm started and it's still on now. I’ve never been in anything like it before. It covers everything and the wind is so strong it’s a job to walk. I have a pair of goggles to keep it out my eyes. 

Sunday, Dec. 1st

We have had a day off today, but it has been our sections turn for guard. I did my turn first thing, so I’ve had the afternoon in bed, reading and I finished the letter off to you. It is grand to have a bed to lie on and when Albert went in hospital, he left me a big tablecloth to use as two sheets; so I’ve got a special bed. One of the lads has a camera and took some photos today. I hope I’ll be able to get some.

Monday, Dec. 2nd

They have had us on a good thing this morning, it appears we don't salute the officers good enough, so they had us practicing a salute and in the desert of all places, what next!

Our section played B section at football this afternoon, we lost, 3-1.

Tuesday, Dec. 3rd

I’ve been section orderly today, while the others were on parade weapon training. I stopped in to look after the dugout and do a bit of digging. We had a few spots of rain this morning, but it soon passed over.

Wednesday, Dec. 4th

I’ve wrote home today and sent it with a special airmail, which is supposed to reach England for Christmas. We are out on another stunt this week, probably tomorrow and everyone seems to think it will be a real one this time, as we are going right up to the front line. We've been packing all the stuff up ready to go. I’ve got another cold.

I’ve been made a no 1 machine gunner, so if we are going into action, I’ve got a responsible job.

Thursday, Dec 5th

We are moving out some time this afternoon and we’ve been cleaning guns and fighting equipment this morning.  We have to hand all our kit bags and personal kit into the stores before we go so it looks as if we’re off on a proper do.

We started off about 3-45, all in trucks and went up the Escarpment, riding until 7 o’clock. When we got down to it, after a hot meal (bully steaks) we are told we are going into action in a day or two.

I have to hand my diary in but will try and keep a note or 2.

Until today I’ve been keeping a note of every day.  For the past months I handed the diary in before we went into action and didn’t get it back until today. So, the following pages will be copied from an Italian notebook, which I’ve been using. There were lots of days I didn’t get chance to write at all, but I’ve tried to remember what happened, of any importance.

Friday, Dec. 6th

We started off again at about 7 o’clock this morning and have been riding all day over the desert. I’m just about shook to death. There are thousands of trucks around us including tanks and big guns. We move again tomorrow.

Saturday, Dec. 7th

We set off in trucks again this morning and rode until about 3-30 and then dug in for the night. We get a hot meal at the end of each day. We have been told we shall go into action Monday, as some Indian troops are attacking two points first and the 16.T.B. another, so there will soon be some lead flying.

Sunday, Dec. 8th

We moved about ½ a mile on foot this morning into some scrub and dug in for the rest of the day.  We cleaned all the guns neat until dusk, when we moved back to the trenches we were in last night. We have had an order of the day read out to us and a message from Mr Churchill. We move again in the morning and expect to go into the scrap.

Monday, Dec. 9th

We got a cold breakfast at dawn and a spoonful of rum and were given a tin of fish and a pkt of biscuits for the rest of the day. We then set off in trucks again. At 3 o’clock we got out and dug in, as the Indians had attacked and captured hundreds of prisoners, tanks and equipment. We got prepared for a counterattack, but none came so we got on the trucks and went forward again in the night. We saw lots of kit and prisoners the Indians had taken, and they did so well. They attacked our point, so we don’t go into it until tomorrow. Then it is for Sidi Barrani the Italian strong point. At about 8pm we dug in and are quite near the station positions (we smack at dawn). We got no meal at all tonight, or rum.

Tuesday, Dec. 10th

It has been a day of days (terrible) we packed up before dawn and got ½ a tin of bully, pack of biscuits and ½ mug of water each.  We got on to the trucks again, but we had hardly moved when shells started bursting all around us. We got off and lay flat on the ground. After a while I found a shallow trench and crawled in with another chap. We lay there for an hour with shells dropping around us. I was frightened to death and said my prayers over and over again. The nearest one, burst just behind us and covered us with earth.  I didn’t think any of us would get out alive. About 5 or 6 trucks around us got hit and went up in flames, one with a lad I was at  Wigston with, oh it was ghastly. When we got the order to advance, I had the Bren gun. It was worse still for a while, for we were getting bullets at us now as well as shells. I saw 5 or 6 of our lads go down including our section leader, but he jumped up again and carried on. It had caught his shoulder. As we advanced along a stretch of open ground, we got out of the shell fire and reached a ridge where we got down and fired back at them. We were about 800 yds from their post and they were giving us plenty of lead. Then the Bren I had went wrong, I couldn’t get it to fire. So, I stripped it down, cleaned it and put it together but still it wouldn’t fire. So, one of the other lads had a go at it and I fired his rifle for a while, but he couldn’t do any good with it. While I was rattling away from it to let him get at it, one of their machine guns cut my outline in the sand with bullets, but I had another lucky escape. Then our carriers went forward and we advanced just behind them to the station posts.  They kept up their fire for a while and then some came running out with their hands up. Our section took charge of them and the others rushed in with bayonets. We took the hill, but there were some terrible sights. The prisoners we had were sent back.  We went forwards and took another small ridge, but the last hill was the worst to take. It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon and a sandstorm was blowing from our left to right and made it a job to see anything, but we advanced and all got round the foot of the hill. We crawled up bit by bit, but these Ities put up the best fight of the lot and it took us about 1½ hrs to take them. They had a strong position and were giving us plenty of lead and throwing grenades at us. I had a Bren that was useless so I kept as low as I could and stripped it down again but still it failed to work. So, I gave it up as a bad job. When at last we did take the hill, we had quite a few casualties, a platoon officer had a grenade burst in his face, Sgt his leg, O.C.C neck and lots of others with 3 out of our section.  The prisoners and wounded were sent back and we started to look for dugouts to sleep in, but while doing this, their air force came and tried to dive bomb us. It scared us to death but thank God they missed us. It was getting dark now and I found an Itie '' officers’ dugout with a bed in. About 7 o’clock our cooks’ truck came up and we got a good hot meal and ½ a mug of rum; and did we need it. I felt very queer after it and went and got down to it on the bed. We had taken the points to Sidi Barrani," and the Queens had entered the town, (what was left of it).¹² I said my prayers tonight I can tell you, for we are lucky to be alive.

Wednesday, Dec. 11th

I had a rotten night; I could not sleep; I kept seeing flashes and hearing bangs. They told me this morning that I was talking funny and trembling all night, so I must have been a bit shell shocked. One of our chaps was the same, but a lot worse. We moved off before dawn this morning to just outside Sidi Barrani and dug defence trenches. We saw lots of Itie lorries that had been captured. This afternoon we had to round some prisoners up and they were sent back in trucks. I got one or two keepsakes and a silver watch. We are staying here for the night. I’ve heard they are calling the hill we fought on Victory Hill and that we had 79 wounded and 10 killed. We have the Cprl, myself and 5 others left in our section.

Thursday, Dec. 12th

They were bombing all around us last night, but none of us got hit. It’s a terrible sensation to hear the bombs bursting around, after what we went through, it’s made me tremble like a leaf. We moved again this morning to some more old station positions, not so far away.

There are lots of kites flying about, motor cars, motor bikes, lorries and all sorts. I’ve been riding round the dugouts on different motorbikes all day and have got a good kit of tools. We are staying here for the night. I’m on AA guard. We have been finding tinned milk and stuff the Ities left and tons of fags, but they are poor things.

Friday, Dec. 13th

I was on AA guard last night, but they did not bomb near us and I was very pleased too. We moved again this morning in trucks, quite a good way forward this time, to a place called Buq Buq. We have to take some prisoners back or something. We have dug in again and are stopping the night. We aren’t far behind the front line as we can hear the guns quite plain. I don’t like the place myself.

Saturday, Dec. 14th

The Ities were bombing all around us again last night; they came as soon as the moon got up. None out of our Regt. got hit. Gally our section leader went to see the M.O. with his arm this afternoon and he has sent him in dock, so we have a private in charge now.¹³ Two more out of our section have been sent to another section, so now there are only four of us left.  It's a fine section to be on a battlefield. They have sent us to some old dugouts to do an outpost guard for the night. It’s all on its own and there is a Pyard prowling about and keeps barking.¹⁴ It's most eerie and with just the four of us, we haven’t much time to rest. We got a mess tin of water this morning for washing in. I got stripped down and had what might be called a bath; the first wash for 10 days, so you can guess what we looked like and we are all covered in fleas.

Sunday, Dec. 15th

When it got daylight this morning, I went hunting round all the surrounding dugouts and found an old Itie stores with about 100 pairs of new boots, 500 new shirts, rifles and all sorts of stuff. My boots were getting thin, so I got 2 nice new pairs of Itie’s, put one pair in my pack, the other pair I put on and slung my own away: not bad going. About 11 o’clock they fetched us back with a truck and we had to take some prisoners back to Sidi Barrani. We got a meal and collected them about 10 o’clock, 3,800 in all and we had to march them there. 12 miles today and another 12 tomorrow. Some of them are a rough lot and they don’t like marching, but a prod with the old bayonet soon livens them up. By the time we got to the resting place it was dark. We got them off the road into some hills and got them all in one block, with Bren guns trained on them.  All night we’ve got to guard them, 2 on and 4 off and when we’re off, we have only a shallow trench to sleep in, but our grub truck has come up and we’ve had a good hot meal.

Monday, Dec. 16th

Before dawn the prisoners got restless and started making fires; they were about frozen to death, but we soon got them quiet. We got a hot breakfast about 7 and then started to feed the prisoners on their own grub we had captured. They got a tin of Bully and a portion of biscuits each. There was a mobile water tank nearby and he has to fill each one's water bottle. It was a devil of a job and it took until 12-30 to get through them all… we got them back to the road and set off at 1 o’clock on the march to Sidi Barrani. Some of the prisoners started to drop out after 2 or 3 hours marching and we had to have lorries picking them up and taking then to the front of the column.  We reached Sidi Barrani about 5 o’clock and took them down to the landing stage where they were put on ships. I was eating some army biscuits and one poor beggar came up to me, took his wristwatch off and said, biscuits please (in very broken English), so I gave him what I had left and he gave me the watch. I have two now. Our grub truck had followed us, so we got a hot meal and set out in trucks for Buq-Buq. We got back about 11 o’clock and I’m on AA guard again; we don’t get much sleep.

Tuesday, Dec. 17th

It was cold on guard last night, but the Itie planes didn’t bother us much for a good job; I dread the things.

We had a YMCA mobile canteen up here this afternoon and were able to get some chocolate and biscuits. I soon polished them off as you can guess.  They took us down to the sea this morning and made us all get in. We needed it, but it