Mussolini_ His Part In My Downfall Part 14

"My boots are leaking."

"Oh? Outwards?"

"Outwards my a.r.s.e, the b.l.o.o.d.y water's getting in in, Jerry's got the right idea. Jack Boots, no lace holes. Great."

"Have you tasted the apples here?"

"Not yet."

"They're b.l.o.o.d.y marvellous, better than English ones, full of juice."

Army conversations were unique, from leaking boots to apples in one line. I reported to the Quarter Master Courtney for new boots, he makes me take mine off and examines them. "Like a jeweller's gla.s.s," I said sarcastically.

"Well," he says, "we haven't got your size, see; you take an eight, we've only got twelves."

"Twelves? TWELVES? Christ!"

"Take it or leave it."

A choice! Size twelves or bare feet. It was like wearing landing barges. I used to haul myself around in the mud walking like Frankenstein's monster, my feet kept coming out of the b.l.o.o.d.y things, and I had to stand on one leg trying to tug the monster boot out of the mud. It was impossible, I told the Quarterbloke and he relented. "I'll send a truck to Base Depot and get you a pair of eights."

The new size eights arrive and are like iron. They have been in store since World War 1. I have to attack them with a hammer to break them down. I cover them with great loads of dubbin, put them near the fire; I watched those boots absorb two pounds of dubbin, with a noise of Glug Glug. "The b.l.o.o.d.y things are alive," said Gunner White, watching fascinated as the boots devoured the dubbin. After half an hour's battering with a Tent Peg Mallet I tried them on. Great! they were as soft as buckskin.

We have news that 17 Battery has had a premature. No one killed but one gunner injured. This was strange as the gun had just come back from workshops, where it had been repaired for a previous premature.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1943.

REGIMENTAL DIARY: REGIMENTAL DIARY: Weather once again wet windy and cold Weather once again wet windy and cold (That sounded like most of us.). (That sounded like most of us.). ALF FILDES' DIARY: ALF FILDES' DIARY: Rain making things awkward Rain making things awkward. BDR. MILLIGAN'S DIARY: BDR. MILLIGAN'S DIARY: GAVE BOOTS ANOTHER GOOD HAMMERING. GAVE BOOTS ANOTHER GOOD HAMMERING.

Lt. Budden is a greeny-yellow colour when he enters the Command Post.

"You look off colour, sir-yellow to be precise," I said sympathetically.

"No, I feel jolly rotten."

Jolly rotten? rotten?

"I've just come to collect my prismatic compa.s.s." He goes to a little ledge, picks up a few belongings. He looks dreadful. "I'm going into hospital, Milligan."

"Congratulations, sir."

He manages a wry smile and exits. I will miss him, he is a splendid fellow; the only trouble was, he didn't understand Jazz.

We are visited by Vic Nash, who has just come back from the OP with Jam-Jar Griffin.

"What a b.l.o.o.d.y time," he says. "f.u.c.kin' mud and f.u.c.kin' sh.e.l.ls, and f.u.c.kin' Jerry dead stinking away, now I've discovered I've got b.l.o.o.d.y Dhobi's Itch."

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1943.

TORRENTIAL RAIN.

I thought we'd had the heaviest rain possible, but now, today, it is unbelievable! It's so damp that even under cover you get wet. The only good thing is the rum ration. I can't stand the taste of it, I keep it in my water bottle and put it in my tea during the night shift. We bake apples and chestnuts by our Command Post fire. The path to the Command Post is very slippery and poor old George Shipman slid off it last night down a sixty-foot bank; he entered the Command Post covered in slimy mud. "I just fell over the bank," he said.

"I thought they were closed on Mondays." There's a lot of illness in the Regiment, we are well below full strength, especially me. It's come to something, our Medical Officer, Captain Bentley, is in hospital with 'Chinese Flu' (Jaundice). 15 and 18 Batteries have been pulled out of the line for a rest, and their guns are at REME Workshops in Naples. The Attack on Monte Camino was halted because of appalling weather. All that blood-letting for nothing. After the war a note in the 14th Panzer Corps (they were defending Camino) Diary for 13 Panzer Corps (they were defending Camino) Diary for 13th states, "THE ENEMY HAS WON THE BATTLE FOR THE MIGNANO GAP!"...that was the day that General Mark Clark had told Alexander that we would have to suspend the offensive because our troops were exhausted. Kismet. states, "THE ENEMY HAS WON THE BATTLE FOR THE MIGNANO GAP!"...that was the day that General Mark Clark had told Alexander that we would have to suspend the offensive because our troops were exhausted. Kismet.

Our Gunners are so s.h.a.gged, they have been falling asleep on the guns; Signallers, Specialists and Karzi attendants are all rounded up to do a spell on them. The Gunners sleep in their tents and don't even wake up for meals. The platforms of the guns are nothing more than pools of mud three feet deep. For the first time the entire Regiment is out of action. A strange silence settles on us.

"I can't sleep," says Signaller White. "It's too b.l.o.o.d.y quiet."

We all sit in our tents, watching the mountain of water falling.

"I've worked out that the rest of the world must be bone b.l.o.o.d.y dry!" says Edgington, putting a damp cigarette in his mouth.

"Cheer up," I said.

"Why?"

"I don't know why, give me time, I'll think of a reason."

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1943.

We have both run across to the cookhouse with our gas capes over our heads, it's early morning and what a treat! someone has got us a fried egg fried egg each for breakfast. each for breakfast.

"Oh, magnificent egg," I intoned.

"Egg! oh Egg!" echoed Edgington like a Shakespearean actor. "I feel a powerful inspiration on the egg coming to me." He then launched into, "Oh long live the fried egg, even though for it we have to beg. The fact that these eggs are Italian, will have us bound up like a..." I couldn't think of a rhyme, then Edgington says, "Like a stallion."

"Did you hear Jerry's long-range guns last night?" I said.

"Noo, I wasn't on duty, for once I had a good kip."

A period of eating and tea sipping.

"Here; last night I picked up some jazz from Naples AFN, they had a half-hour of Goodman with Charlie Christian on guitar, it was b.l.o.o.d.y marvellous, then about ten minutes of Jimmy Lunceford, they played that great sax arrangement of Sleepy Time Gal Sleepy Time Gal, it was great, I think w.i.l.l.y Smith was on first Alto, what a great lead he is."

"I wonder when we'll ever play again."

"Alf's guitar strings are all going rusty. He's going to try to get some new ones when he gets a trip into Naples."

Bombardier Fuller is calling for me. Despite my silence he finds me. "We're going to move soon."

"In this b.l.o.o.d.y weather?"

"In this weather...there's no rush, but start getting things ready, we can close down on Wireless, but we're keeping the OP Line open."

"Ours is but to do and die-and try and get b.l.o.o.d.y dry!" says Edgington.

It continues as a nothing day, we attempt to write letters. Some play cards, some sleep, some just sit and stare. New Disaster, the s.h.i.t-pit has been flooded by the rain so it's all floating around the landscape; poor Sgt. Jock Wilson and his crew are all gently sleeping in their tent when the contents of the s.h.i.t-Pit float under the tent flaps. Chaos.

In antic.i.p.ation of the moves the order goes out that all vehicles will have the tyre chains on. Drivers get into the most appalling state carrying out the order.

"Surely," says Edgington, "this rain must be longer than Queen Victoria's."

"Let's go to the Command Post," I said. "See what's on the wireless."

We double across, giving off our usual Red Indian War Whoops. In the Command Post, Vic Nash and Bombardier Edwards have folded up the Artillery Board and are packing the remaining bits and pieces.

The fire is glowing red, Edgington and I settle by it. We steam in the near heat. It was the only refuge in a grim world of mud and cold.

"I wonder what wondrous fairyland they are taking us to," says Deans. He takes a cigarette from his tin.

Little Vic Nash, "Give us one, I'm clean out."

Deans hands the tin across.

"f.u.c.king Vs! These are personal f.u.c.kin' insults," says Nash, but still takes one. "It won't f.u.kin' well light."

"You have to dry the b.l.o.o.d.y thing out first," advises Deans in sage-like voice.

"You know, I wrote to my MP in London about these b.l.o.o.d.y Vs, and said it was a disgrace that we had to smoke the b.l.o.o.d.y things."

"Did you get a reply?"

"Yes, he said there was nothing that could be done because these f.a.gs are made in India, and it's easier to ship f.a.gs from India to Italy than from England; he put a packet of twenty Players in a parcel and wished me good luck."

"Well, you don't appear to have had any," said Edgington.

"Have you see this," says Deans and hands us a page torn from the Union Jack Union Jack, the Army newspaper...I was so smitten with what I read I copied it out.

Corridors of Power Corridors of Power. MKI General: MKI General: Leaps tall buildings with a single bound. More powerful than a steam engine, faster than a speeding bullet. Gives policy to G.o.d. Leaps tall buildings with a single bound. More powerful than a steam engine, faster than a speeding bullet. Gives policy to G.o.d.

Colonel: Leaps short buildings with a single bound. More powerful than a shunting engine. Is just as fast as a speeding bullet. Walks on water (if the sea is calm). Talks with G.o.d. Leaps short buildings with a single bound. More powerful than a shunting engine. Is just as fast as a speeding bullet. Walks on water (if the sea is calm). Talks with G.o.d.

Lt.-Colonel: Leaps short buildings with a running start in favourable winds. Is almost as powerful as a speeding bullet. Walks on water in indoor swimming pools. Talks with G.o.d if special request is approved. Leaps short buildings with a running start in favourable winds. Is almost as powerful as a speeding bullet. Walks on water in indoor swimming pools. Talks with G.o.d if special request is approved.

Major: Barely clears a Nissen hut. Loses tug-of-war with a steam engine. Can fire a speeding bullet and swims well. Is occasionally addressed by G.o.d. Barely clears a Nissen hut. Loses tug-of-war with a steam engine. Can fire a speeding bullet and swims well. Is occasionally addressed by G.o.d.

Captain: Makes high marks when trying to leap tall buildings. Is run over by trains. Can sometimes handle a gun without inflicting self injury. Dog paddles, talks to animals. Makes high marks when trying to leap tall buildings. Is run over by trains. Can sometimes handle a gun without inflicting self injury. Dog paddles, talks to animals.

Lieutenant: Runs into tall buildings. Recognises trains two out of three times. Is not issued with ammunition. Can stay afloat if properly instructed in the use of a lifejacket. Talks to walls. Runs into tall buildings. Recognises trains two out of three times. Is not issued with ammunition. Can stay afloat if properly instructed in the use of a lifejacket. Talks to walls.

2nd Lieutenant: Lieutenant: Falls over doorsteps while trying to enter buildings. Says, "Look at Choo Choo." Is NEVER issued with a gun or ammunition. Plays in mud puddles. Mumbles to himself. Falls over doorsteps while trying to enter buildings. Says, "Look at Choo Choo." Is NEVER issued with a gun or ammunition. Plays in mud puddles. Mumbles to himself.

Sgt.-Major: Lifts tall buildings and walks under them. Kicks steam-engines off the track. Catches speeding bullets in his teeth and eats them. Freezes water with a single glance...HE IS G.o.d! Lifts tall buildings and walks under them. Kicks steam-engines off the track. Catches speeding bullets in his teeth and eats them. Freezes water with a single glance...HE IS G.o.d!

This occasion was at Santa Maria. The weather was bitter cold. The rain had stopped. For some reason, we had nowhere to sleep, so Edgington, Pedlar Palmer, Trew, Fuller and myself made a giant bed right out in the open. First we laid down a huge canvas Gun sheet. On that we all made our beds in a square, all feet towards the middle. That done, we laid over the top yet another giant canvas Gun sheet. I'm still desperate to remember why why we did it, so I ring up Edgington in New Zealand, he recalls the occasion, but again the reason is unexplained. we did it, so I ring up Edgington in New Zealand, he recalls the occasion, but again the reason is unexplained.

ME:.

Harry? Harry?

H:.

Yes, is that you, mate? Yes, is that you, mate?

ME:.

Yes, it's me, mate. Yes, it's me, mate.

H:.

Cor strewth, what's the time there? Cor strewth, what's the time there?

ME:.

It's ten past eleven here in the morning. It's ten past eleven here in the morning.

H:.

It's ten past ten at night here. It's ten past ten at night here.

ME:.

Good night. Good night.

H:.

Good morning. Good morning.

ME:.

Harry, I'm on Volume 4 of the war memoirs, now Rocamanfina...and Terra Corpo...do you remember the occasion of the great bed? Harry, I'm on Volume 4 of the war memoirs, now Rocamanfina...and Terra Corpo...do you remember the occasion of the great bed?

H:.

Cor yes, we did it right out in the open, we used gun canvas. Cor yes, we did it right out in the open, we used gun canvas.

ME:.