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WWII - Please meet Parkie, the young kid who made a man out of himself

From diary.Italy#3


Ran into infantry with mortar today. Some faces from the boys missing.We took four prisoners ,Indian regs wanted them,Hard feelings after the ridge.This is second week of no suitable water.Men are drinking from potholes.And Tire tracks.Some have found wine,but it only makes it worse Bread has been coming in full of large beetles.It is terrible. Thrown In the back of the trucks with
nothing on it,covered in mud and blood from boots And the poor buggers they haul out.My shrapnel wound is festered badly
Took in belt again.

                                                            A.C.(parkie)
 
I'm sorry the pages are in no particular order,has the diary is in bad shape,so we try to make has much order out of them has
we can.

                                                                  A.C.(parkie)
 
This is the old guy, parkie,I want to stop for a moment to reflect a bit on what Italy was like for theCanadian’s .I know that there has to be many books written on the subject of the Italian war,but I think most came from people who didn’t really have an idea what it was like,Newsmen and journalists and such, You would see them from time to time, driving by, going god knows where, they certainly didn’t go camping with us. I suppose they had a nice comfy quarters set up for them somewhere to sit and write about how well the Canadian’s were doing.But it was anything but,  Some can’t believe that men had to eat bread that was full of bug’s,well I hate to have to tell them,we did,and lots of it.They brought the bread in,loaded in the same trucks they carried wounded or they had been using for troop transport and the back of the trucks would be covered with mud and crap from guys boots and blood from wounds or whatever,they would throw the bread in on top of that mess with nothing on it,so you cam imagine what unwrapped bread looks like when you throw it in with a bunch of slop,it acts like a sponge, whatever meat they had for us,if it wasn’t canned was rancid and covered with fly’s,but I suppose that didn’t really matter to those cooking it,because into the pot it went,mostly they liked serving a kind of mush,that was made from the spoiled meat mixed with a white liquid,that was suppose to be milk,it actually was a powder mixed with whatever water was laying around,and  I do mean laying around,a lot of Italy was nothing more than desert,so water was hard to come by.but it gathered in dips along the road and in spots where it didn’t have time to dry up right away.You knew on what day’s were the one’s that could be your last,because they gave us something the boy’s use to call the last supper,By their standards it was a kind of final feast before battle,to pick your spirit’s up.It consisted of a slice of spam(canned meat) and one or two pieces of hard tack(flour and water mixed and cooked).You know it really made you feel like fighting,just to get another feed like that.
Lots of men got very sick from lack of water and proper food,It made them unable to fight any diseases that  they got,even minor infection’s were made a lot worse by this,and somehow the medicine they had for treating wounds had become contaminated with the lead that they used to seal the bottles,so if you needed to be treated, you would only get much sicker from the medicine itself,I don’t know if it was a type of lead poisoning or not,but guy’s who were treated would break out in large horrible sores.They used the same liquid to mix with a type of ointment to make something they called blue ointment,this was suppose to be used to treat minor wounds,and it almost killed a lot of guys,some it probably did.
When the German’s pulled back, or run. Whichever you like,they didn’t leave much behind,So it wasn’t only us hungry,but the people were starving worse then we were,because they had to live with nothing a lot longer then we did,Children suffered the worse,there was many with no family left.And they were left to fend for themselves has best they could,many of them starved to death or just give up,It is disheartening to see a child looking for a place to bury their family,and you have to keep your mind on the enemy.
The enemy I have killed appear has nothing but a faceless shadow in my memory,But the children I have seen dead,some I can remember what they were wearing and  others I can remember the color of their hair and their little faces.They live so vividly in my dreams,it is like they are alive,and haunting me.I like to think they come to say hello,at least thinking that helps me to survive.
Have I Killed,Yes ,I have,I have killed those who would do harm to the weak,who would oppress ,who would force their will on others..
Do I feel remorse for the men that have fell by my hand,Not one little bit,I would kill them all over again if I had too. Would I go to war if I could, to go through this again.
 

In a second .


                                                            A.C.(parkie)
                        Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
                      1st Canadian Infantry Division

 
Thank you, Parkie, for sharing your memories with us. My wife and I check in every day to see if you have left another installment. Your memories certainly give the young soldiers of today some idea of what you, who have gone before us, went through. I salute you Sir :salute:
 
The old guy here again.parkie
I was thinking after reading through pages of my old diary,about the first day’s after landing on Italy and them putting us up in the cemetery for the local area.I don’t know to this day,why they put us in there.It was a large area,and the whole place was set on rock,So the graves(I don’t know the proper name for them) or  I guess  crypts you would call them.were all set on top of the ground,and by the looks of it,there were lots of fresh graves,But the smell in there was bloody god awful , That was where we slept and where they served us our food,many of the boy’s couldn’t eat, And large beetles  were crawling out of these grave sites,and they were all over the ground,In our food and getting in our belongings.The same dam beetles showed up in our bread later, So try and get that out of your mind while your trying to eat that bloody bread.Bad enough the stuff being full of bug’s,but thinking about where they might have came from, bothered lots of guy’s. We may have been a tough lot , But we were human.
I imagine those of you reading through, read the entry with us all going to the john out in the open,That was in Godstone England ,just a few miles out of the center of London.a fairly heavy populated area.They put us up in the city park there.It was a nice open area.grassy and the odd tree.A nice place for a washroom,if it had walls. But there with all the people coming by and staring at us and the kids pointing and laughing,and people taking pictures,well,today it would be like  fifty guy’s all going dropping their drawers in the middle of a wal-mart parking lot and having a crap. I can remember thinking about our old cow out in the field lifting her tail and going,I suppose that’s how we looked.            Looking back that’s kind of how I felt too.


                                                                        A.C.(parkie)

 
Parkie wants to tell you all about the battle at the Hitler line in the liri valley.we have to tell it in parts, We will do one part, then perhaps some diary entries then another part and so on, it will be easier on him that way.

                                                                            The lira pt1                                                 
I will tell you the story of the battle at the Lira valley. At the Hitler line. some of you know the story from command reports and regimental diaries and books. But I will tell you the story from the view of a 21 year old soldier who just wanted to get it over with, and go home, I no longer can feel any glory from that day, I have tried, but now I feel only pain, It is the final resting place of many of the remaining boy’s I had gone to war with, the rest wounded or dead, getting me there.
    Some have say that this was our divisions finest hour, I myself having pride in being a soldier, I take honour in being able to say I was with those boy’s when we went at that bloody line, but my memories won’t let me, I can think of nothing but, that it was the last hour for many of us. I know that it’s my mind doing this to me, because at the time we were a rough battle hardened bunch of veterans, some like myself the old men of the outfit, Old at 21 years, Looking back I think we were more tired of waiting for something to happen, then we were eager to go up that bloody ridge.  Lets face it, we had been through our share of fighting, enough to know that what was waiting for us was a well trained German force, that was expecting us, They were well dug in, had good defensive position, and they knew we were coming .So you have faith in your artillery crews, you know they will do their best to make the way easier for you, you know they won’t be able to get all of them. You can’t help hoping that they kill every one of them and all we have to do is walk up that line, you know that can’t possibly happen, you just hope it does.    They give you the last supper, in this case our last breakfast. And the old man comes by, to tell us, ‘meet you on the objective boy’s’. Sounds great! But looking at those bloody rolls of barbed wire all strung and marked. And knowing the enemies guns have been sighted all over that wire, there wouldn’t be to many of the boy’s making it, But it really didn’t matter, Looking back what mattered was our reputation and the Canadians had gotten a reputation for getting the job done, unknown to them many of us had already said our goodbye’s to each other, We knew when we saw what was waiting for us, and that probably none of us would make it. 


                                            A.C.(parkie)             
 
                                        The Liri valley pt2                             
I can remember that day, it was a bright sunny morning, but for the men moving about and equipment readying for the attack, one would never imagine all hell was about to break loose, The companies were lined up back of what they said would be a starting point for the attack, That was probably in case of a shell falling short from the artillery barrage they had planned. The artillery started early, probably around 6 or 7 that morning.  I can still remember, the sound of those guns pounding the hell out of the enemy on the ridge.7 or 800 artillery guns! I can’t explain what it sounded like, except to say, it’s like somebody hammering with a 10 pound sledge on a huge metal drum and their hitting it about 20 times a second or more! man! They were pounding them!
When soldiers hear artillery support, well! There’s nothing in the world like the sound of those large guns going off in your favour. Nothing in the world! When they start pounding the enemy positions. It gives you a feeling of power, you know,The adrenaline starts to surge through your body, Your whispering to yourself, Give it to them boy’s! Give it to them! At least you think your whispering, but you find that your not, And your not alone, because everyone is thinking the same thing, and soon it’s no longer men muttering to themselves, you can hear men saying out loud, Give it to them!  Blow those bas*ard’s straight to hell! Give it to them boy’s! Pound them into dust! Slowly your no longer wondering if your going to make it up that ridge, you don’t even remember thinking about the barbwire,Mines,machine guns! Nothing! All you want to do, Is get up that ridge and kill the bas*ards who killed our friends! Friends! My thoughts turn to friends I lost, and I am thinking to myself “I am going to go up that ridge and the first son of a bi*ch I come across is going to get the full mag of that Thompson, There won’t be enough left of him to fill a boot!Ya! Just wait that rotten bas*ard who shot Joe, He was the first one I was going to get; he’s going home in a bottle! Dear old Joe! I thought of Joe that day,He had been gone so long now,God! I wish he was here! I’m thinking to myself! Come on! Let’s go, what are we waiting for, let’s get up that bloody ridge and kill those bas*ards! And Planes! I can remember seeing a formation of air support coming over! more help!Good! Give it to them boy’s. Bomb the sh*t right out of them!

We need to stop for awhile


                                                                                                              A.C.(parkie)
 
The shelling kept on and on, it had been going steady for over an hour when the old man, came amongst us, I can’t remember what his name was, I think we called him ‘Bucko’, ‘Give ‘em Hell today boy’s’, I can remember him saying. Our old friends that had shared our battles and spilled blood with us, the Edmontons and the seaforths were there, the seaforths formed up, just to the side of us. The Edmonton’s just behind ,Man! It felt good to have those boy’s with us going into battle, We were going to give those sons of a bi*ches exactly what they had coming. I can remember men muttering, ‘you’ve reached the end of your trail now, you bas*ards! This is it! Nowhere to run now Adolph! Men were saying whatever they had to, getting themselves hardened up for the attack. Somewhere from behind .I can remember somebody saying. ‘Steel up there son! Steel up! Some poor soul’s will is starting to faulter. Probably looking for some support or a shot in the arm, None to be had here I’m afraid. Everyone on that line is doing whatever he has to, getting himself hardened up for the assault. Don’t dare show a sign of weakening. Don’t you dare! Master your fear! Master your fear! I had come to know this by heart. I no longer needed to be persuaded to put down my fears! I had come to learn that by rights I was already dead, All that was keeping me alive was maybe a branch, to stray a bullet, or a gust of wind that made the difference between me dying, and the poor bugger that got hit with the mortar! ‘Alright boy’s time to make peace with your god’.I can remember a small guy from Alberta saying that morning, And we all laughed, I think silently we all made peace with our God! A whistle blows, then another!  ALLRIGHT  BOY”S!!  LET”S GO!! It’s was the old man, Bucko! And he’s taking us out, The attack is on! We move out from the line. We no sooner got going, then we started getting hit by German artillery and long-range mortar. Jesus! We didn’t even get started! The artillery rounds are blowing the hell out of men. Dam, The mortars are coming in, in batches and men are dying all through our line. I can see an arm brush by me in the smoke, and I remember the badge of the seaforths and he falls in front of me, off to the right of me a guy shouts ‘Sh*t’and he disappears has a mortar hits him. We are trying to get up through a small wooded area but the trees have become flying missiles of wood has mortar and artillery fire rain’s down on them, chunks of wood, the size of half a tree are flying through the air and going right through men, there’s screaming and the god awful sound of flesh being ripped apart, We can see one of the platoon’s from the right side of us getting the hell blown out of them by the German artillery. I think they were Infantry brigade, no matter we’re all in this together now.LEAVE THAT MAN WHERE HE LAY!! I can hear the old man yelling at someone!A quick blast of heat and I’m knocked back and down to the ground, A mortar has hit the tree I was standing beside. God! That was close. I’m okay though, I can’t see out of my right eye, but it must be wood from the tree. Just hold a second and see what the hell’s going on with my eye.  ‘Help me bud’  Jesus!  Somebody has me by the boot. It’s one of the boy’s from the platoon ‘Give me hand to get up will ya” Christ! He had no right side, his leg and arm were gone, and he slipped away in a second. I’ve got to get up and get moving, but there’s no one around, just bodies and pieces of them. How come there’s nobody to help us! ‘ Leave them where they lay’! Of course, you stupid ass! They thought you bit it and left you there! got to get up and get back to the platoon, but where do I head. I can barely see men moving ahead, through the smoke. Must be my platoon! I walk out towards them, and one of the boy’s shouts at me. ‘You with B Company’ No! I shouted back ‘I’m with the pat’s’. ‘This way’! He shouted at me. And he’s gone ahead in the smoke, Christ! This bloody eye I can hardly see where I’m going and we’re still getting the hell pounded out of us. by the artillery. I can hear somebody yelling up ahead. A way’s ahead I found one of the boy’s from the other company, tangled in the wire at the line. “Give me a hand to get out of this god dam wire’.Right!I started to pull on the wire,And I notice he’s dead.What the hell!!I was just talking to him,then I hear the thud!thud! thud! Machine gun fire raking the wire, that’s what killed him. and Zip!! I feel a hot poke under my arm; I took a round in the soft flesh of my armpit! Dam! That burnt, I stumbled only for a second and another passes through the calf of my right leg! Ouch! Jeez! That smart! I couldn’t hold myself up and I fell into that bloody wire. Well now I’m really screwed, Now I’m tangled in this bloody wire and the German gun crews are going up and down the line with machine guns raking the hell out of everything living or dead, I can see men moving maybe a hundred feet off, but that does me no good!  ‘Hang tight there’! Somebody says. ‘Don’t bloody move there’s box mines everywhere’ is he talking to me? I can see from my good eye a man moving off to my right, he’s about ten feet away when he steps on a mine, The explosion tore his leg off at the knee and threw him towards me where he lands on his back in front of me about five feet away, right on top of the detonator for another mine. The muffled explosion throws dirt hard into my face. now I can’t see a dam thing. and I have to dig the dirt out of my eye to see. There’s the poor lad lying there with his whole chest cavity blown open. Good Jesus! What a sight, I look down the wire and all along it are men hanging dead and dying and the sickening sound of lead hitting their bodies and tearing them up. Men are lying all around with missing feet and legs and worse. It looks like somebody just took boys and tore them apart.
The Canadian’s broke the Hitler line that day! We showed the world that we could take on, what some considered the best-trained troops in the world at that time and hold our own, Hell! We kicked their Asses!
The battle at the Hitler line ended for me there that day. I had been shot through the right leg at the calf and the thigh. In the right arm at the armpit and the shoulder and three shrapnel pieces in my abdomen, two I still carry to this day. My head wound consisted of my face being torn away from my jaw to my temple and from the corner of my mouth to my ear.
I managed to survive that killing field to tell, To tell the younger people what kind of courage they inherit. To tell the younger soldiers of today what kind of honor they share
My war didn’t end there though. I went on to fight in the Netherlands, but that’s still to come


                                      A.C.(parkie)
                Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
 
The Liri

What do I think when I look back at this? You know it is hard to explain, exactly what this means to me. Something that has stuck in my mind all these years. It is like a picture embedded in my memory. When they were carrying me out on a stretcher, we went past the old lad who was one of the commanders of the Edmontons, He was sobbing, and I will never forget him repeating over and over to himself ‘All gone. All My fine fine boy’s. All gone’ That has always stuck in my mind, Has just what we meant to these guy’s. For all their hard talk, And gruffy nature. All that aside, They Loved us.
The first division paid a terrible toll, that day, to what we called ‘The Butcher’. Out of our little group I think only, one or two men made it to the end. All tolled I think we came out of it, with about Fifty or sixty men who could walk, out of close to three hundred. Out of the casualties I don’t know how many were dead and how many were wounded. Those of us that were just shot to hell, considered ourselves lucky. Some of the boy’s got hit hard, awful hard! I remember one of my officer’s coming by has I was lying on the ground; he leaned over me and put his hand on my head and told me. ‘Well, your not so bad, eh, lad’.  ‘No’! I told him. ‘No, Sir I’m not, I’ll be ready to go in a couple of day’s’.
He told me, ‘You just rest here lad, and we’ll call you if we need you’.
                                                           
                                        A.C.(parkie)

If somebody can help me find the name of the old lad who was with the command for the Edmontons that day I would sure appreciate it, I have often thought of him and never knew his name, He was an older gent, and he wore a odd, soft brown cap. He was amongst the troops before we started the assault that day, talking with the men.
                                                                                                Thank you(parkie)


 
"The Canadian’s broke the Hitler line that day! We showed the world that we could take on, what some considered the best-trained troops in the world at that time and hold our own, Hell! We kicked their Asses!
The battle at the Hitler line ended for me there that day. I had been shot through the right leg at the calf and the thigh. In the right arm at the armpit and the shoulder and three shrapnel pieces in my abdomen, two I still carry to this day. My head wound consisted of my face being torn away from my jaw to my temple and from the corner of my mouth to my ear.
I managed to survive that killing field to tell, To tell the younger people what kind of courage they inherit. To tell the younger soldiers of today what kind of honor they share
My war didn’t end there though. I went on to fight in the Netherlands, but that’s still to come"

Jeezus, parkie....this should be printed up and hung at the entryway to every combat arms unit in the whole damned army... Thank you for this.... :salute:

CHIMO, Kat

 
Oh how right you are Kat. Imagine what it would be like to sit and have coffee with this great man. Parkie, I've said it to you a few times, Sir you are a walking hero to not only the "young" military members here but to their families as well.  :salute:
 
if you would like to print this,by all means you most certainly may.I wrote this ,because for the most part from what books I have read, people only know what history tells them,I am no hero,I would not even accept my medals until 1997, and I only did so,on the wishes of my granddaughter for her to have,I think people need to understand,who those boy's were that stood with me,They walked into that field of fire fearing no man.And I can honestly say ,if there is a hell on earth ,it was on that field that day.To see things like what was happening to those young lads and have the fortitude and courage to keep going,it really truly was the stuff that legends are made of.
                                                                I thank you
                                                          A.C,(parkie)
 
Parkie, you are doing a great job of telling their story.
 
After a few hours of searching we managed to find this radio clip of the canadian assault on the hitler line.
I hope the link works for everyone                                     

                                                            A.C.(parkie)



http://archives.cbc.ca/IDC-1-71-1471-9860/conflict_war/italian_campaign/clip7
 
The old vet here.
Has I get closer to the end of this,I want to share with you,from time to time small stories about life,maybe what it was like for soldiers retuning from the war and such.
For the young men and women that serve,here at home and in far away places.I know exactly how you feel my friends,exactly.
All I can say is cling to your faith,In yourself,In your brothers in arms, And in that which you do.
All through time it has been the same for  soldiers. when trouble stirs everyone goes.. Ho!.. Hum!.. Until it looks like their butt might be on the line,then they will either support you in your struggles or spit in your face.and when the black clouds have disappeared ,there will be a big celebration then they will forget you exist.
So you hold to your brotherhood and sisterhood,because when it comes right down to it,we only have each other,and really that is all we need.To hell with the rest.
                                              A.C.(parkie)

Don’t worry when my story is done your still going to have to put up with me,so too bad!

 
Old vet here
I want to tell a little story, I myself have put it behind me, But it will show you the indifference of people. When I came home from the war, there was little for the men coming home to do, some returned to the same back breaking work that they had put on hold to go to war, others could find nothing, and wandered to different parts of the country, in search of work, myself I found work in a mine, working underground.
Working with iron ore, I found the work hard, but a lot easier to get along with then lead.
There was about ten boy’s with me at the mine, they had wandered to the same mine at different times in search of work. We all worked together underground(the ten boy's were vets also)
  In the dry. Which is where men come to shower and change after their shift is over,
They had a plaque on the wall that listed the names of men who had been working in the mine when the war broke out and had died serving and it had about a dozen names on it
   Right bloody next to it, and this is no word of a lie, there was a small wood case about a foot square with a glass front. Inside that case was a watch, a beautiful gold watch.
Some of these guy’s who worked there during the war because they were probably to (I’ll you the term scared), to go to war.
They had bought this watch for somebody, but he had died before they could send it,
So they put it in a little case on the wall, for all to be able to read the engraving on the back.
 
TO ADOLF  HITLER -YOUR INSPIRATION MOVES US ALL

And that is all I have to say about that

                                                              A.C.(parkie)
 
The battle of ortona
I will tell about the battle of Ortona, I can not tell you about the whole thing because most of the fight fell to the Edmonton’s and the Seaforths, Those boy’s had the awful job of trying to squirrel the enemy out of the town. The Patricia’s didn’t enter Ortona until the fighting was pretty well over, all of the hard fighting anyway.  We held routes and such, I suppose in case the enemy tried to flank the whole bunch of us, But I can tell you from runs I made with the officers from command, who I went up with has part of a support unit to take ammunition and supplies to the town, we would go up in the evening to re-supply the units fighting in the town and the CO’s would recon the battle. So in all has far has the battle of Ortona goes, I myself had it pretty good, I got to ride for a change and I got to watch the men of the Eddie’s and the seaforths fight for the town of Ortona. Although it wasn’t like sitting watching something that you were enjoying, Most of these guy’s I had broken bread with, and been with for a couple of years, they had become like family, And you couldn’t help but worry for them. But at the same time you also couldn’t help but take pride in them, their being fellow Canadian’s and taking on one of the best German paratroop divisions.
The Germans bombed and strafed us a few times on the road to Ortona, they were trying to hit a bridge on a road leading to the town, And generally just trying to harass us, But that bridge is probably still standing, although the rotten SOB’s managed to kill Percy, a kid from my home town and a few of the other unlucky boy’s. Unlucky! That’s how we looked at it when one of the guys’s got it, because really that’s all it is, Luck! In the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time! That’s what we use to say. The difference between coming home and being a hero or spending eternity in a far away place. Seconds! Half seconds! Your enemy blinked and you squeezed by, but your buddy didn’t. Your life can come down to a grain of dust blowing in somebody’s eye.
  First for those that don’t know too much about the Canada’s war in Italy, I will tell you about the enemy we faced, Through most of Italy we faced different units of Herman Gorings divisions, The ELITE! They thought of themselves, The finest troops that Germany had to offer. Hardcore battle tested troops! What did we make of them, LANDFILL! It took to many of my friends and good young boy’s to stop your greed and your blackhearts for me to think of you has anything, but!
Anyway, back to The elite. German forces that I can remember in Italy were.
The panzer divisions. The1st and 4th paratroop divisions and some of the Luftwaffe field division. All well trained troops. But for the Luftwaffe ground troops, who maybe would have faired better with their feet off the ground.
  But being a soldier, There is no nice way of telling how I feel about facing these troops, Being a soldier, one has to measure himself by the enemy he has defeated, or hardships he has endured, So being a soldier I guess I can say that we killed some of the finest troops that Germany had to offer. To harsh for some maybe, but the truth!
. In Ortona, the Germans left their 1st paratroop division, not what you would call an ill-trained bunch. They were considered some of the best troops in the world, somewhat fanatical and experienced.
  I can tell you this; I was present during the Questioning of a German prisoner. A few days’s before the assault on Ortona started. He was quite arrogant in the fact that, we were merely a small obstacle that they had to overcome, The troops who were in Ortona were the elite forces of the German army and they  would not surrender, and that in fact, Germany was going to win the war. Well! I said he was arrogant, I didn’t say he was smart.
Back To Ortona. If you know much about Italy, you know they like their balconies, dam near every house has one, good for sitting on in the evening, also good for snipers, They had themselves hid in almost every room in that town, They would pop out onto the balcony and shoot at a few guy’s, then pop back in. They also had built themselves machine gun nests and barricades using the buildings themselves by blowing them up and blocking the streets and laying mines .So they turned the whole dam town into a defensive position. It makes clearing a large town a dangerous task; almost impossible when your dealing with a large force that is intent on holding the town.
  Since the houses were all built connected, someone came up with the idea of blowing a hole through the wall of one house and then men would enter, clear that house, then do it all over from house to house, and they cleared entire blocks doing it this way. Hard, Dangerous work, and it cost men’s lives, And anywhere the Germans pulled back from they booby trapped the hell right out of the building, and when you blow a hole in a wall, somebody has to go through first, a risky job.
But even though it was so tedious and dangerous, those boy’s didn’t back down, Hell!! They made the enemy run from that town, They had the German’s in such a hole from getting pushed out of everywhere, they started using terror tactics on them, By waiting until there was a bunch of men in a building they had rigged to blow and then levelling it. They caught one group of guy’s nearly thirty in one building, then blew it up, burying them all, But the fellows managed to save a couple of the boy’s, even while they were being shot at by sniper’s and having grenades thrown at them while they were trying to dig them out.
I will continue this in a little while; the old vet needs a nap.

                                                        A.C.(parkie) 




 
                                          Ortona pt2
I can’t imagine what it must have been like trying to dig those boy’s out of that rubble
And the whole while somebody’s lobbing grenades at you and taking pot shots.
But if they thought that this would terrorize the men, they were wrong, all it did was p*ss them off.
When the Germans blew up that building with all the men inside, they soon found out that the Canadian’s could play that game too. One of the units sent men out to recon the town at night for buildings that the Germans were using, they set charges on the building where they could hear German voices coming from, and blew it up. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, so to speak.
I remember men talking about, they couldn’t understand how the enemy was getting from place to place, because they had cleared buildings, and set up a position to keep the Germans out of that sector, only to find that they had somehow got themselves back in, and were using it has a fire position again, Then somebody found that they had dug tunnels from building to building, That ended with a few well placed explosives.
I can remember, I was up with the supply unit, and we were taking rounds to a six –pounder, (an anti-tank gun on wheels), that they were using to fire on buildings that snipers were hiding in, while the boy’s were unloading the rounds, I was talking with the fellow firing the six –pound, You could hear lead pinging off the gun, has somebody was taking shots at him, he said to me ‘‘Look at this bugger in the second floor of that building, he shoots two shots from that small window, then two shots from the balcony window’ And he pointed him out to me, and sure enough you could see him, poke out and fire two shots at the boy’s down the street, then come to the other window and fire two shots at us. The gunner told me ‘‘I’ve got the bugger timed at fifteen seconds, from when he fires at me, to when he appears in that other window, the bugger doesn’t know I can see him, Watch this’’ Has soon has the sniper fired two shots at us, The gunner was looking at his watch. He fired that six pounder at exactly fifteen seconds, And the shell from it hit that window, exactly when the sniper appeared in it, Gees! the four of us there just about wet ourselves we were laughing so hard!
The first division had it’s own machine gun unit, they were the Saskatoon light infantry. They mostly used the Bren 303 machine gun, I know some who read this have shot the bren, And by today’s standards they are considered a dinosaur, but in it’s day, in the hands of a man who used them daily, they were a formidable weapon. And in the hands of a man from Saskatoon infantry, nothing moved within 2-300 yards or it was dead.
On Christmas that year, they planned a big feed for the boys in the town, they got a few of us to escort the trucks up, and help set it up in an old building there. They set up tables with cloth on the tables and put everything out, I think they had pork, can’t remember exactly, but they had vegetables and some fruit and smokes for the boy’s, They brought in relief to try and hold the positions, while they brought the boy’s in that had been doing the fighting. If a picture is suppose to be worth a thousand words, then one that day would be worth a million, when they brought those guy’s in, some of them just stood there and cried, they couldn’t believe their eyes. It was nice to be able to see them forget about the hell they had been going through, if only for a couple of hours, it probably took some of them back home for a minute.

-continued
                                                                  A.C.(parkie)
edit for grammar
 
                                                        ortona pt3
The Christmas feast must have lasted for close to 8 or9 hours that day, the men would come in and eat, get to slip away to a different time for a while, but then have to go back out to relieve the next bunch of fellows. The hardest thing for us was watching their faces, has they changed from weary and battle worn, to happy and cheerful, then back to the reality of war, when they had to leave. Some of the bully’s (cooks) couldn’t understand why they were so p*ssed off and sad looking, having just had an unheard of dinner with everything. They thought of them has being ungrateful. I soon sorted them out. I remember telling one of them.  ‘You obviously haven’t been shot at before maybe you should go stick your nose out on that street and you’ll see why their so glum about going back out there’. No, Those bully’s didn’t understand, but I did, I knew what it was like to be shot at, and to be shot at for days straight could sure take a toll on a man.

It was near Ortona, about a week before that we were told to go and try to bring back a three ton truck that had gone down the wrong road in the dark, It was easy for drivers to get lost in the dark, most had no lights, at least none that worked anyway, When a convoy traveled at night, one vehicle led the way and everybody followed using a small piece of reflective tape on the axle of the truck in front of you. So guy’s got lost in the dark and rule of thumb, stay with the truck and somebody will find you.
Four of us went out to find the truck and driver, we backtracked to where we found tracks trailing off towards the river, it was already getting near dark and we had to walk a ways before we found the truck. It was sitting with one wheel off the side of the bridge and it was very near to areas patrolled by the enemy. We sat for quite a while, listening and there was not a sound coming from the truck, but across the river we could hear men talking German, Ambush! One of the lads crawled to the truck and came back with the news that the truck was shot to hell and the driver was dead in the front seat and it was loaded to the hilt with munitions. We talked amongst us what to do and we decided that if the truck was full of ammo why not let her blow. So we all crawled over to the truck and two of us removed the driver, no doubt the bunch across the river had shot him, then they probably figured they would just wait for whoever showed up to help. I remember we could hardly keep from laughing out loud, Dam fools, some ambush. You could hear them chattering like a bunch of old hens a hundred yards away. We figured since the truck had all this dam ammo, just pull the pins on some of those grenades and it’ll all go, Okay. Two men took to humping it down the road with the body of the driver and in about five minutes, we pulled the pins on as many grenades we could grab and we run. We ran like a son of a gun, and well?  What the hell?  Nothings happening. The two of us sat there wondering what the hell to do. We figured for sure the Germans must have heard us. But no sound. So we went back to the truck and took a rag and stuck it in the fuel tank and lit her up. We went quite a ways before the truck finally blew, but boy when she blew with all that ammo in the back, Jesus did it go! Those Germans across the river must have filled their drawers! We caught up with the other two a half mile down the trail and we made the decision that the Germans were probably on our trail so we put the drivers body where somebody could come for it the next day.One of the boys from the night before went out with two of the lads from the seaforths and they  brought the drivers body in, he was a nice young lad from Manitoba with the Pat's.      Continued                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  A.C.(parkie)
 
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