Veterans Stories:
Following in the footsteps of John Robson ; mine clearing
This is an extract from the diary John Robson, a former photographer for the Hull Daily Mail, who was serving with an infantry unit and was part of one of the advance parties which had to clear the mines from the beaches and prepare a road through to enable soldiers disembaking from landing craft to exit the landing beaches.
Although the exact location is not mentioned, it provides a vivid first hand description of his experiences carrying a task that was so vital and a pre-requisite to a successful beach landing. It was featured in the Hull Daily Mail on 7th August 1944.
His day commenced before dawn and ended shortly before midnight. His account recalls:
Although the exact location is not mentioned, it provides a vivid first hand description of his experiences carrying a task that was so vital and a pre-requisite to a successful beach landing. It was featured in the Hull Daily Mail on 7th August 1944.
His day commenced before dawn and ended shortly before midnight. His account recalls:
“We are all very quiet as the craft begins to ground. The bows are beginning to lower now. I prepare to jump into the sea. Not yet! The craft did a little waver, noses nearer and further up the beach— grounds again, and then stops. I jump as a third man into four feet of sea, swirling with the current. I can see figures laying prone to the earth firing at us through the smoke of a burning tank, which is a salvation for something which had gone adrift with the smokescreen on our sector of the beach. The R.E. lad on my left side gives a grunt, goes down, floundering in the sea, swirling around in the current to be drowned most likely. My fingers just slide over his clothes as I make a grab at him. I was helpless to do anything much for him, burdened as I was with all the kit. I couldn't even fire my rifle for protection.”
“As we near the edge of the water we spread out. Other craft have grounded further along the beach. We are now abreast of them. They are disembarking with all types of material about their person, just as helpless as myself to shoot back the beach defenders. Some of the boys go down at the water's edge for a breather, but they come under direct machine-gun fire which criss-crosses the whole beach. Thank Heaven! I do the right thing in mustering every inch of energy and setting off to run up the beach as fast as my heavy feet will plough across the sodden sand. How its resistance torments me. I see a sand mound slightly ahead just as I'm about all in. I make a super effort and leap clumsily behind it.”
“I turn towards the sea, witness the rest of the company coming up the beach, striding over, and even taking over from the victims of the enemy's fire. Soon the whole of the company is on the beach —at least those who make it, and thanks to the extensive amount of briefing before we left, everyone slips into their position quickly, to await the O.C. of the company, in order to take the lead before plunging inland to meet any resistance, leaving the beach defences to the naval and aerial bombardment. I take this opportunity to make last minute adjustments to gear and tin hat, which fell over my eyes during dash up the beach.”
“Now the beaches are strewn with casualties, especially on our left. The firing has become denser still. An 88 mm artillery gun opens up. Flail Tanks (used for gaping minefields) as they thunder up the beach. First shot misses its target, hits the beach 20 yards from the company, diminishing the company's personnel still more. The second shot didn't miss its target. I know I swore aloud for them to get us off the beach, which is now becoming an inferno. I've got the scares a bit bad now. Never in the whole African and Sicilian skirmishes have I been so scared as I am now."
“Almost synchronised with my appeal, the O.C. of the company ordered “Fix bayonets!” jumped up and plunged up the rest of the beach on to the minefield. We follow, trailing the white guide tape for the rest of the company to follow. How surprising under the turmoil of it all. As I couldn't find time to be terrified now. My terror for mines has forsaken me. I charge on over the mines, full of confidence in making the other side without mishap. How I'm staring at that far fence now. I've started to come out of the minefield. To have won some world championship in sport couldn't have given me more satisfaction as I step out of the minefield."
“Now the company passes in single file out of the mines. There are gaps in it. I fear the worst for some as I have heard detonated mines explode. As the last of the company comes through, so we are to return over the mines to make an official vehicle gap.
But new orders have it that we push on with the company until the objective is taken.”
“As we near the edge of the water we spread out. Other craft have grounded further along the beach. We are now abreast of them. They are disembarking with all types of material about their person, just as helpless as myself to shoot back the beach defenders. Some of the boys go down at the water's edge for a breather, but they come under direct machine-gun fire which criss-crosses the whole beach. Thank Heaven! I do the right thing in mustering every inch of energy and setting off to run up the beach as fast as my heavy feet will plough across the sodden sand. How its resistance torments me. I see a sand mound slightly ahead just as I'm about all in. I make a super effort and leap clumsily behind it.”
“I turn towards the sea, witness the rest of the company coming up the beach, striding over, and even taking over from the victims of the enemy's fire. Soon the whole of the company is on the beach —at least those who make it, and thanks to the extensive amount of briefing before we left, everyone slips into their position quickly, to await the O.C. of the company, in order to take the lead before plunging inland to meet any resistance, leaving the beach defences to the naval and aerial bombardment. I take this opportunity to make last minute adjustments to gear and tin hat, which fell over my eyes during dash up the beach.”
“Now the beaches are strewn with casualties, especially on our left. The firing has become denser still. An 88 mm artillery gun opens up. Flail Tanks (used for gaping minefields) as they thunder up the beach. First shot misses its target, hits the beach 20 yards from the company, diminishing the company's personnel still more. The second shot didn't miss its target. I know I swore aloud for them to get us off the beach, which is now becoming an inferno. I've got the scares a bit bad now. Never in the whole African and Sicilian skirmishes have I been so scared as I am now."
“Almost synchronised with my appeal, the O.C. of the company ordered “Fix bayonets!” jumped up and plunged up the rest of the beach on to the minefield. We follow, trailing the white guide tape for the rest of the company to follow. How surprising under the turmoil of it all. As I couldn't find time to be terrified now. My terror for mines has forsaken me. I charge on over the mines, full of confidence in making the other side without mishap. How I'm staring at that far fence now. I've started to come out of the minefield. To have won some world championship in sport couldn't have given me more satisfaction as I step out of the minefield."
“Now the company passes in single file out of the mines. There are gaps in it. I fear the worst for some as I have heard detonated mines explode. As the last of the company comes through, so we are to return over the mines to make an official vehicle gap.
But new orders have it that we push on with the company until the objective is taken.”
In another extract from Private Hill's diary mentioned above, he recounts his return to Britain following the invasion.
“On 7 June we worked all day dealing with these wounded personnel and had two hours sleep. I remember vividly an A.A. shell that exploded on our deck. On the following day we pulled out on the morning tide with a convoy and during the night had a running fight with E boats."
"Passing through the Straits of Dover we docked at Tilbury on the morning of 9 June and casualties were taken off.
That night with my two pals Hank and Franco, we had a pub crawl. On the night of June 10 stood off Southend pier with a convoy, and the following day a smoke screen was laid between us and France as we fouled our stern anchor and went back to the Continent. We ran over a submerged tank which caused us to lose considerable quantities of oil and fuel, and damaged our screw.”
"On 14 June, 189 patients came aboard. We pulled out on an evening convoy bound for England. There were various air-raid alarms and I remember spending two hours giving nothing but hypodermic injections, anti-tetanus, anti-gas gangrene, penicillin, and morphia."
"Early on 15 June, all guns were going at once. We were attacked by torpedo bombers. It was an infernal racket. Three R.A.M.C. men were killed and one injured. But we got through and we arrived at Portsmouth opposite the famous 'Victory’.”
"Passing through the Straits of Dover we docked at Tilbury on the morning of 9 June and casualties were taken off.
That night with my two pals Hank and Franco, we had a pub crawl. On the night of June 10 stood off Southend pier with a convoy, and the following day a smoke screen was laid between us and France as we fouled our stern anchor and went back to the Continent. We ran over a submerged tank which caused us to lose considerable quantities of oil and fuel, and damaged our screw.”
"On 14 June, 189 patients came aboard. We pulled out on an evening convoy bound for England. There were various air-raid alarms and I remember spending two hours giving nothing but hypodermic injections, anti-tetanus, anti-gas gangrene, penicillin, and morphia."
"Early on 15 June, all guns were going at once. We were attacked by torpedo bombers. It was an infernal racket. Three R.A.M.C. men were killed and one injured. But we got through and we arrived at Portsmouth opposite the famous 'Victory’.”