7.  Off To North Africa

Eventually, we were told that the 1 Airborne Division was to go to North Africa. Actually, the First Para Brigad had already been sent, and had been used as infantry troops quite successfully. We were to land just as the Germans were being defeated, in order to drop in Sicily and Italy. Only Capt. Kerr and a few clerks would stay behind as “Rear Details”, to close out all the accounts and hand in the transport and equipment. Then he would catch the next troop ship to Oran. This job cost me the “Africa Star”, which all the others won, since the last Germans were still fighting a rear-guard section. However they had surrendered a few days before I arrived. Too bad!

It wasn’t too difficult to drive from Oran to an area, largely American where my unit had found a patch of sand. Once again, I became adjutant and was back with my section of conscientious objectors. My staff-sergeant, corporal and I were the only ones with 45’s. It was good to be “home” again, but what a country. Apart from a few historic sites, such as Carthage and towns like Souse and Bizerta, there was nothing but sand. We were advised not to become friendly with the local ladies. That was before Aids, but there were lots of other diseases.

Parachute stories can be boring, even though most are true. We had to practice for our jumps in Sicily, which would be at night, so parachute training started again. The British weren’t able to buy C-47’s then, and tried using Albermarles, a ply-wood plane made like the Wellington, but not nearly as well-designed. The tail wagged all the time, making many of the parachutists airsick, and there were other faults. In the end, they gave them to the Russians, who used them on one-way missions to support the army when they were desperate.

My first drop was my hardest landing ever, on the only paved road for miles and miles on the desert. The next was easy, but two of us landed on the very edge of a salt lake. The pilot had lost his way in the dark.

Our last site on the desert, near the holy city of Keirouan had a few olive trees, but was otherwise nothing but sand. We each had a small tent, which we erected over a square hole about a foot deep, to give us more height. This reminds me of a silly prank that I played.

Between our tents, there was a square space of sand, and in the centre of this I made a neat little cemetery, with a cross for each of us, and a large one, of course, for the C.O. We all thought this very funny, although I don’t think Lt.-Col Kohane laughed very hard. As it turned out, of course, I was quite prophetic, as my tale will tell.

It was terribly hot, and we drank huge quantities of water, sometimes adding salt, but seldom had to go to the bathroom. For amusement, we used to drive across the desert in our station wagon, with a hole in the roof, so a soldier could hold a tommy gun and shoot, apparently. We used the hole to climb back along the roof and in the back window. This was good sport, and only one of us ever fell off the roof, but I can’t remember who it was. He didn’t get hurt, just covered with sand.

At last we were told that we were to drop in Sicily, near a town called Augusta, where there was a bridge to capture. Containers were packed with our medical supplies and a little food. We loaded our surgical instruments and blood plasma very carefully, because the containers hit the ground quite hard. We were glad that the Americans would fly us to Sicily, in C-47’s.

At last our D-Day arrived, and we drove to the airfield and found our planes. We waited in the dark, eager to get into action at last. Suddenly a staff car stopped beside our plane and an officer told us that we would have to wait. There had been a hitch somewhere. The next time he came, it was to tell us that the operation had been cancelled. We heard that an agent had sent a message to say that a German panzer division was on our landing zone.