Authors: Vivienne Dockerty
As the evening wore on, Anny told Eddie that as every bed was occupied at their house, she had made arrangements for him to stay in their neighbour’s home and, when the parents showed signs of wanting to retire, she took him across the road, where again, he was made very welcome. It was all very quiet and peaceful, far away from the noise of battle and he got to sleep in a real bed again.
Anny called for him next morning when he had woken, refreshed after sleeping like a baby and took him back to eat breakfast at her home. He was welcomed by Anny’s mother, a quiet little woman, who had given Eddie the impression she was deeply religious and the family, much taken with the chance of plying him with questions in their best English, found once again it was a heaven sent opportunity to speak with an Englishman.
After breakfast was over and Anny had the opportunity to speak with Eddie again, he found that one of her many jobs included delivering the mail. It was her day, opportunistically for Eddie, to drive out to St. Anthonis, where she had a parcel to deliver. He drove back to his barber’s shop in style, although he had to lie on the floor of the vehicle as they drove through the streets of Cuyk, as he hadn’t got a pass.
When he got back, he went straight to the sergeant who had given his permission and handed over a bottle of cherry brandy that he had found in a small abandoned brewery on their way. Anny had said the owner hadn’t been seen in the district for quite some time and it appeared that a lot of his stock had gone with him.
Eddie felt much better for the short break, as it was a return to normality for a while. It had been sheer luxury sleeping in a real bed and taking his meals with a family. He opened the shop, preparing himself for business again, but nearly all the soldiers had had their haircuts, and Eddie began to realise that it was time to join his company again.
In the next few days, his only sighting of Anny was when she came by with a friend, this time on Red Cross duty, and there was not much time to talk. Then the Major sent a messenger telling him he had to return.
His company had moved behind the lines when he rejoined them. They had been in action for some time and were due for a well-earned rest. Eddie had noticed a horse trough in a nearby field and as the weather was getting a little warmer he decided to have a bath. He had to clean the trough out first, which he painstakingly did with clumps of hay. Next he carried bucket after bucket of clean water, done with a cheerful heart as he liked to smell nice.
When he had prepared everything to his satisfaction, he stripped off and lowered himself into the trough, he left his rifle and towel in easy reach and began to give himself a good wash with a piece of soap. He gave a sigh of satisfaction and lay back.
Two German soldiers had been hiding in the bushes at the end of the same field. They were deserters from the retreating army, not really Germans, but they had been pressed into service and were determined to give themselves up at the first opportunity. They both emerged from the bushes and walked over to the centre of the field, shouting loudly as they ambled along with their hands above their heads, “Kamerad... Kamerad.”
Eddie, lying back with his eyes shut in the makeshift bath, opened his eyes and sat bolt upright in horror. His reaction was to reach for his rifle and towel as he stood up quickly in the trough. His apprehension was short lived as his own soldiers on guard duty had spotted the Germans and ran up to take charge. They accepted their formal surrender and were passed on to H.Q.
It was discovered during interrogation that the men were Polish and had been pressed into service or shot and had been determined to surrender to the Allies when they could.
After his bath, Eddie got dressed and went back to the billet. Many soldiers were there, some playing cards, pontoon and Brag, some were writing home, some were resting on their beds and some were boning up their boots, with thoughts of going out to the nearest town.
Eddie wanted none of these things, so he decided to go for a stroll. He was joined by two of his mates as he walked down a village street and as he was interested in the houses and cottages that were built in the Flemish style, he stopped to ponder on them.
It was hot and they were all wishing for an English pub to materialise so that they all could have a refreshing pint of beer. Wine they could have in plenty at that time, but it was country wine, sour and dry to the palates of the English and Irishmen that made up their company.
It was a real country village, typical of the Continent and Eddie had noticed that, apart from the war damage, the cottages were badly in need of repair, with gutters hanging from the roofs, shutters and gates needed re-hanging, with everywhere having an air of dilapidation.
They came to the end of the street and found themselves in the centre of the village. There were a few houses on the outside of the square, which were built to a better standard than the cottages. A dog rushed out at them from a gateway, barking as he ran, then a child which was pursuing him, stopped short at the sight of the three soldiers. A drift of cooking smells came on the air from one of the houses, probably from what the locals called
frites
and it suddenly made them all feel homesick.
On their way out of the village, their attention was drawn to a lovely house with a colourful garden. It was ablaze with flowers of every hue and the lush green lawns that swept around the house were in a well-kept condition. The soldiers leaned on the gate the better to see and admire, then as they walked a bit further, they saw a ditch that ran along the boundary hedge.
At the top of the lane stood a farmhouse and, seeing that their way was blocked, they turned to walk back through the village again. It was then that Eddie’s sharp eyes noticed something lying amongst the marshy plants and ferns that grew in profusion in the ditch. On closer inspection, they found it to be the body of an English soldier, lying face down in some water. He had been dead for some while and must have lain there unnoticed, which was puzzling, as mines had been cleared from the area and there was nothing to say how he died.
Later Eddie and his company were stationed near another city. Tents had been erected to accommodate the swell of soldiers and they had a little free time and transport for a spot of sightseeing. Whenever they could, they would spend their off duty time there, as the King had given in without a fight, so there were no ravages of war and his people were not harmed in any way. It was a very ancient city and the buildings were built in local cream-coloured sandstone, so from a distance it looked like a fairy tale city.
One day, Eddie climbed into the lorry, which had been waiting to take them into the city. They had a few hours break from the camp, so some soldiers were going sightseeing and Eddie was going to a café for his dinner, where he had established a good relationship with the proprietor.
He and Eddie had an arrangement. Eddie would exchange his ration of fags for a meal and a bottle of excellent wine. That day he spent a couple of hours there and when he had finished his tasty meal, the proprietor came to have a chat with him.
It appeared he was having problems with the Military police, who were going to close him down. He had broken the law, on this he wouldn’t elaborate, but cheerfully he announced to Eddie that he was going to reopen next door. He explained that he would have a different name above the premises.
Eddie had to smile at the man’s optimism and next time he went for his usual dinner deal, he concluded that the man was still having a hard time from the Military, as the shutters weren’t up on either of the places.
Later, about half an hour before he was due back to be picked up by the lorry, Eddie left the café and walked along the cobbled street. When he got to the compound where the lorry was parked, he met the driver who asked if Eddie had a spare rotor arm.
Eddie looked mildly surprised as he was not in the habit of carrying spare parts with him on his off duty time, but then the driver explained, putting Eddie into the picture.
The soldier had driven the lorry into the compound and was halfway through his meal in a favourite restaurant, when he remembered he hadn’t disabled his vehicle. By now the ‘Redcaps’ would have removed and confiscated the rotor arm themselves.
Eddie thought over the problem, then came up with an idea. They would ask the other driver, who had come in a bit later, to go and collect his lorry, drive it out, then loan this driver his rotor, so that he could drive
his
vehicle out.
The idea was a good one and all went well, the rotor arm was returned to its rightful owner and the first lorry load went back to camp. Then the second lorry got a tow back again.
When the driver went to see the fitter next day, “Rotor arms,” the fitter said, “there’s loads of them, the Redcaps keep on bringing them in.”
“I’ll have two then,” said the driver thankfully.
Back on the Belgium side of the river, Eddie’s company waited for their orders, whilst the action was across the border in Holland.
The men were not used to such inactivity, so they decided to visit the city, but that evening there wasn’t any transport. They looked at the boat that was tied up by the river bank. It was used to carrying troops across the water, but using it was a bit of a risk, as it might be needed later.
They decided to take a walk and passed a café that was popular with the soldiers, but it only sold soft drinks, and tonight the men were in the mood for wine.
A brightly painted caravan passed them as they walked. It was being driven at speed, with the driver whipping the horse in an effort to make it go faster. The van swayed from side to side, lurching with the excessive speed.
After the van had passed them and was some distance ahead, the watching soldiers saw it turn over and fall into a ditch. The horse was struggling to get free of the van, as the three men ran to assist, managing to free it from the shafts and get it on its feet again.
Eddie opened the door of the caravan with some difficulty, but he had been alerted to the sound of a woman’s voice screaming in the back. He found a young woman in the advanced stage of labour and then understood the urgency of the situation.
The gypsy man had been thrown free of the van as it tipped over. He had struck his head on a stone and was still dazed as he staggered to his feet. White-faced and haggard, he manfully did his share in dragging the caravan free of the ditch and placing it upright on the road again. The horse had been tethered to a gate at the other side of the road, so the soldiers helped the gypsy to put it back in the shafts again. The gypsy gripped the hands of each in silent gratitude, then jumping in his van, began to brandish his whip again.
The woman had stopped screaming, Eddie hoped she hadn’t passed out, as they watched the vehicle careering along in the distance. All were hoping that he had the kind of luck that would see his wife safely at the hospital in time.
Walking back after a few glasses of wine at a place a little further, the three men turned into the fields where they were camped. There was a noisy argument going on between two men outside one of the tents.
“I’ll mark time on you, me lad,” Eddie heard one yell.
“Not if I can help it, yer an eejit,” came the reply.
Eddie and the other men walked on. They had learned to mind their own business when battles broke out between the men, especially on a Saturday night. They’d had a good briefing once by one of the Irish sergeants, who seemed to be full of wisdom.
“No politics and no religion and yer can’t go wrong with that.”
The whole camp was in an uproar the next morning, as it appeared that someone had stolen the wheels off the Major’s jeep. Eddie emerged from his tent to find everyone talking in groups instead of going about their business as they normally did. The jeep had been left propped up on oil drums and the main speculation was how had the thieves achieved it? They could not have got the wheels through the gate during the day, as someone would have seen them and at night time the gate was well guarded. The guards were prepared to swear that no one had passed through the gate in the hours of darkness.
Speculation was rife; everyone had an answer. The culprits, if they came from inside the camp, must have planned it well ahead and it had been a well-kept secret, but Eddie’s own theory was that they must have used the boat. To load it with the wheels and float it down the river would have been a simple matter and there could have been a shed or something where they could have stored the loot.
Other items had gone missing from the camp previously, so Eddie supposed that the wheels would be hidden until the receivers could safely dispose of them and then make a nice profit. To Eddie’s mind it meant that the thieves must be in collusion with some soldiers.
The drivers from the camp were talking amongst themselves in the lorry compound when the sergeant who had been responsible for the jeep came up to them. He pointed to his sleeve which normally displayed the three stripes denoting he was a sergeant, saying that he had lost his stripes because of the bloody business. He was back to the ranks, one of the boys like them again. They stared at him in silence as they didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t get his stripes back until a few months later, he served as an ordinary driver, but he was always talking about the theft. Eddie, who was on loan for a while to that section, felt it was becoming an obsession and the drivers steered clear of him. He was always probing, asking questions and seizing on any clue that may lead to the thieves’ identity. It made the men feel nervous, they could unwittingly betray a comrade, a much more serious offence.
Later, whilst back in action, he earned his stripes again, but one of the unsolved mysteries of the war was who had stolen the wheels off the Major’s jeep?
Eddie was recalled back from the driving job soon after when the Major had decided that his men needed the services of a barber again. He was kept busy on that first week of duty, but when he had finished, he had to go back to Louvain again.