only; I'll bet they turn out to be tough.
As we went through the towns and villages the troops threw cigarettes to the civilians, like buns to bears; and the scramble that ensued was bear-like too.

 1st Leicestershire Regt.

B.L.A.

Letter 41. 26 Sept.44.

Sat. 23 Sept. This morning reveille was at 6.30.and we had to be ready to move at 8 o'clock; We were to move up into the line to relieve another unit.
Last night I slept in the warehouse-dancehall with the platoon, and slept like a log; I was glad to be indoors when I heard the rain splattering down on the roof. We got up and breakfasted (tomato and bacon and egg for me), and it was still raining when we paraded; but soon afterwards the rain stopped.

I came out to our locality ( about 7 miles north of last night's billet) by jeep with the other platoon commander and the O.C. Company. The platoon followed on. My area was at the junction of 3 roads in a village, where we are merely holding at the moment, i.e. in a defensive position. Actually it's very quiet here; not a shot or shell has flown either way here, the civilians circulate around as normal, and some of my platoon have been having haircuts at the local hairdressers - so it's some 'being in the line'. It's actually a good thing it is restful here, after

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being rushed up in 2 days.

I have been reading and eating apples and pears. My H.Q. is in a shed where the 3 roads join, and the inhabitants round about have been bringing in fruit.

This afternoon hundreds of planes have been flying eastwards about 7 miles or so south of us; I daresay we shall know tomorrow whether it is another air-borne landing further east, or merely a bombing raid.

It hasn't been raining during the day; but it is overcast and cloudy.

Sun. 24. Sept. This morning nothing was done until about midday. Then the news came through that the Germans had left the town and canal a mile and a haft ahead of us, and so we were to push on. We packed up and marched to the town, where we crossed over the canal by an improvised bridge at a lock, where the canal was narrowest. In the town we were told to relieve one of our companies that had gone on ahead and had been helping sappers mend a railway bridge - the road bridge had been blown, so all traffic was to run over the railway. When we got to the railway, after a triumphal march through the town (people clapping, flags out, and apples being given to us), the track had been cleared for vehicles, and all we had to do was to keep the spaces between the rails well filled in with cinders and earth, so that low-tracked vehicles should not scrape their bellies on the railway lines and so become stranded. At about 3 o'clock we

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had dinner, and 1/2 hour or so later we joined onto the rest of the battalion who were marching through us along the railway line so as to get to the next village. This town we were leaving, H- seemed quite glad to see us: one of the inhabitants shouted to me and my sergeant as we stood at the side of the road
'England for ever. Thank you very much'; it was in Flemish, but we could easily understand it.

We turned off the railway onto the road beyond the town; it was a concrete road, leading through a sandy, wooded district. At the next village we stopped and had a cup of tea (it was now about 6 o'clock and it had been drizzling throughout the march), and then troop-carrying lorries called in to lift us the rest of the way. It was 7 o'clock and fairly dark by the time we got on board. We were taken about 8 or 9 miles (making 14 or 15 miles in all, including the march) through the dark, and then debussed in a muddy lane, and marched a couple of miles to the village where we were staying the night. The march was along cart tracks through woods and fields. It was 9.30 p.m. when we reached the village, and although it was dark and muddy and raining, the village turned out to welcome us in. My platoon was put in a straw-shed, and I slept in the parlour of one of the houses. I wasn't very comfortable; the floor was tiles, and I had only my gas-cape and air pillow to lie on, and my trousers from the knees downwards were wet. But until it went out, the fire was in the stove, which warmed the room a bit. I couldn't get to bed till 11.15, because the inhabitants were bent on telling me how X, Y, and Z, had been deported to

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Germany etc. They spoke their own language, and I mine, but we could understand each other (with difficulty).

Mon. 25 Sept. I heard this morning that we had re-enforced our parachutists at Arnhem; so the planes I saw two days ago must have been the reinforcment-planes.

By the way, we're about 25 miles S.E., of where Gerrard lived in 'The Cloister', if you can fix the point!

At about 11 o'clock we got the news that we were to move forward to take over a bridgehead over a canal, already siezed by another unit. We went the first part of the journey by M.T. and then marched the rest of the way. My platoon area had already been dug, and so we had only improvements to make - they had dug the pits in the dark just after they had crossed the canal. Everything was fairly quiet, except for a bit of shelling, and we spent the night in a straw-store just near our locality.

On the way down to the canal today we saw a couple of spitfires machine-gun some of our vehicles; they thought they were Jerry ones making a getaway; luckily they recognised them as British after a couple of bursts and flew away.
One vehicle was hit and raised a cloud of black smoke.

Tues. 26 Sept. Last night it rained the whole time. At 4 o'clock this morning we heard that the Jerries were approaching our left-hand company (we were right) as if to counter-attack us. So we turned

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out of our straw-shed and stood to, and I reported to Company H.Q. We stood to in the rain from 4.30 to 7.30; though company H.Q. was in a shop on the canal side, so I kept dry. No counter-attack materialized, and we stood down and breakfasted. At about 10 o'clock; civilians told us that there were about 200 Jerries round the church on our right. We then stood to again, and the battalion mortars gave the whole area round the church a plastering.
Once again no attack turned up though we didn't stand down till 4 o'clock this afternoon. All this time we were in our slit-trenches waiting to receive them.
It was very cold hanging around like this for 6 hours in a cold wind; luckily the sun was out for part of the time, and the rain stopped at dawn.

After we had stood, some hundred civilians came running down the road in blobs of 8 or 10 - refugees. What were fleeing from no-one could make out, whether shelling, infantry, tanks, etc; I don't think they knew themselves - mass fear had overtaken the village. They came carrying bundles over their shoulders, or on wheelbarrows or bicycles, and making themselves and the children more scared by shouting directions and waving. Some even brought their feather beds on wheel-barrows with them. Those wearing clogs carried them in their hands and ran in stockined feet, for added swiftness. It was a typical example of panic for no reason except that everyone else was panicking.

Since the civilians sped down the

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road I have come inside, out of the wind to get this written. It's now 5.15. p.m., so I'll close down now to make sure I can get this letter off.

I've been out here 3 months today - 26 June. 

1st Leicestershire Regt.

B.L.A.

Letter 42. 28 Sept. 44.

I have received Mamma's letter of 20th Sept. and also the two packages of envelopes and the writing paper. Now we have extra ports nearer the front line than Cherbourg was, I dare say the mail will come through more quickly.

Yesterday evening, after writing letter 41, I washed and shaved - which I hadn't been able to do before, owing to the stand-to's -and we then had a hot evening meal. As it had lost some of its heat being carried out to us, we re-heated it on the stove of the cottage just behind us, because we were so cold and wanted a piping-hot meal. I also put on my sweater this evening. We slept, I on my sleeping bag, near our trenches because of the odd shells directed at the bridge over the canal.

Wed. 27 Sept. The whole day until about 5 o'clock was taken up with lounging round, eating apples and pears, brewing up tea, and walking round the neighbouring platoon localities. Masses of troops have gone over our bridge since we took over, so we are several miles in the rear now.
At 5 o'clock we were told we were moving outwards about 500 yds, instead of

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all being cramped round the bridge itself. I went ahead with the O.C.Coy. and other platoon commander in a jeep, and decided on the lay-out of the platoon. It then started to pelt with rain, and this continued until after dark.
As we had not finished digging our locality at dusk, we made use of pits already dug in the field behind, for the night. The evening was fine; but at midnight it started to rain again, and when I felt puddles of water beginning to collect on my sleeping bag. I leapt out of the trench and under a haystack before I got really soaked; I was sleeping on the sleeping-bag and not in it because I had my boots on. I only got wet from the knees down but most others got thoroughly wet, battledores, blankets, and all. After about an hour the rain stopped, and I managed to get snatches of sleep until dawn.

Thurs. 28 Sept. The whole morning was spent in digging the pits we couldn't complete last night. I put a straw roof on mine - the straw was held up by a harrow thrown across the top of the slit-trench. I also wandered round the fields in front of our position - it was still a reserve position only - and picked up and brought back to Company H.Q. an abandoned German bazooka. It was a lovely hot morning, so my blanket and sleeping-bag were put out to air and dry. I also cleaned my Sten, which was almost drowned last night.

By the way, the Luger is an automatic pistol, and is magazine fed and not cylinder-fed like a revolver. The magazine holds 6 or 9 rounds (I don't

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know which); it fires single shots (and not a burst), but spent cases are automatically ejected and new rounds fed by the one action of pressing the trigger. In shape, though, it looks like a revolver, and has a very comfortable handgrip. Mine is a 1940 model, so the workmanship is probably better than on later ones. This is in reply to Daddy's letter of 21 Sept. which I received last night.

I am still eating plenty of fruit from the orchards here to eke out the Army rations, which are rather meagre at the moment: bacon sandwich and tea and biscuits for lunch today, and I hope a hot meal this evening. I suppose that for the moment we have almost outrun our supplies; but having Antwerp should ease the communications problem.

I am writing this sitting in my slit-trench (this one has rather sandy walls), out of the wind; it is just 3 o'clock.

From 3.0 till 5.0 p.m. I was reading; some newspapers have arrived, though about 5 days old (i.e. last Sunday's). At 5 o'clock we were told we were moving again a couple of miles, and we started almost immediately. We came along sandy tracks through scrub and thin woodland, and at twilight reached our bivouacking area. We are sleeping in ditches alongside the road tonight to avoid digging slit-trenches. We have just eaten our supplies (it's 8.30.p.m.), and I am writing this by hurricane lamp in a nearby empty cottage, so that it will go back with the ration-lorry tonight.

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