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Dan Wright |
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| Literally right at the last moment I was told to join another aircraft. As we flew over Holland, I was aware of a rattling noise outside of the aircraft. I thought a wire had broken loose. On looking out the window though, I could see tracer bullets going through the wing about 7 feet from were I sat! Antiaircraft shells were bursting some distance away. Later, when we jumped and I was hanging in my chute, I realised how bad the noise of gunfire was. Men were landing all over the drop zone, with the gliders not far off, on end, side and in the trees. I arrived at the Platoon RV, in a corner of the DZ, to find I was the only one of my section to get there. I did not know then, but learned later, that the plane they where in was shot down 22 miles from Arnhem. Captain Frank King, who was in charge, got most of the men out. I had hoped that someone on that plane is still alive and could tell me exactly what happenned, the men that died were my close friends. I also learned later that Captain King, with the help of the Dutch underground, got the survivors to Arnhem. In fact on one occasion, 2 or 3 days into the battle, I saw him across the street from me. I remember thinking, "What a dirty face you have got Kingy" he saw me, jerked his head and winked. I was not used to winking back at a Captain so I think I gave him a sort of salute. |
| As one of the men who failed to reach the RV was the section bren gunner. The Platoon Sergeant (Shortland) took away my snipers rifle and gave me a bren gun. We were then sent to hold a big house at the junction of a main road. We held it till the following day and were then led out by the Platoon Commander. We were fired on by many guns but I dont think anyone was hit. The bullets did more damage to the road surface than us. The Platoon Sergeant and I went through a house on the banks of the Rhine. We were looking for a position for the bren gun. Tanks arrived and knocked out a nearby antitank gun before withdrawing. I was then sent to assist a South Staffs Captain (pistol) and his Sergeant (rifle). They were in a large 3 storey house overlooking fields, which the enemy were trying to cross. The enemy used multi- barrelled mortars to set fire to the roof of the house. The Captain kept his eye on the roof and left the Sergeant and I to take care of Jerry. After a while the smoke and flames began to overpower us and we had to leave. I passed that house the next day, it was a gutted shell. |
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| The Sergeant and I were then sent to assist another Platoon, who had no bren. A Lieutenant, Sergeant and about four men. They were 11th Battalion but not my Platoon. I fired the bren from a back window in the house by resting the gun on a window sill. The South Staffs Sergeant hauled himself up on a box at the side of the window. I told him he was too exposed in that position. He replied that he had a good view but shortly later received a bullet in the shoulder which knocked him to the floor. |
| A runner came along the street shouting that "We were killing our own men". We all felt very rough about that, then another came shouting that the report was wrong, they were the enemy! Battle recommenced and yet another runner came by, shouting "The British Army was crossing the Bridge", another load of rubbish! |
| During a lull in the fighting I went downstairs and was talking to the Lieutenant and Sergeant, when the officer was shot straight through the heart. We had assumed that the enemy were all at the back of the house, over the fields. The Sergeant and his men left and joined others down the street. I went back upstairs to retreive my bren, I was feeling a bit down. I heard the sounds of boots, on broken glass and bricks, at the back of the house. A Captain shouted up to me to check the Lieutenant's body again. I did, he was quite dead and lying across the passegeway, where he had fallen through the door of the downstairs room. I felt his wrist and a pulse was going like mad - mine! The Captain shouted to me to join him at the end of the street. I decided to follow him along the back of the house. The door wouldn't open fully due to all the debris lying about. I tried to squeeze through the limited opening but my wire-cutters in their web carrier got caught in the door handle. I could now move neither in or out. I ripped at the door as though my life depended on it - I thought it did! I told myself to calm down and after a second or two managed to force the door open a fraction more. After releasing myself I made my way to the end of the houses and joined the others. |
| Some time later I found myself helping a Medical officer attend to some wounded. He asked me if I had been hit? At this time I hadn't and replied "No" . He said "Well your face is all white". It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him so was his, but he was a Captain. |
| At one point during the battle I remember thinking, "Well, I am not going to get through this, I am only 23 and I haven't seen anything of life yet, but I will surely die here". I was not terrified or even frightened but just facing up to what I felt was reality. |
| At one stage I was in a shell scrape in the gap between two houses. There was a row of houses on the other side of the street at the back of us. These houses were being shelled by two or maybe three tanks/self-propelled guns. They assumed that the houses were occupied. The brick dust is the air was so thick we could see the whirling passage of the shells through it, some six feet above our heads. It was at this point that I felt my arm vibrate like a piece of elastic. On looking down I could see the tears in my sleeve, obviously shrapnel. I said to the man nearest to me "I have been hit". He said "No you haven't, its just your imagination". I felt the wetness at my wrist and knew it was not my imagination. I remembered seeing a dressing station, in a bungalow , at the end of the street. I made my way to it and had the arm bandaged. |
| During the night with the German tanks passing slowly outside , the enemy overran the position. In the morning about six of us were taken prisoner, along with two medical orderlies, one of whom was also wounded (and a very brave man). We were taken to St Elizabeth Hospital in a captured jeep, driven by an SS Oficer. It seemed about 1 or 2 miles away. My arm was operated on by a British Medical Officer and some days later I was taken to Apledoorn and guarded by Polish soldiers. |
| .On being searched by an English speaking German Officer he came across a pamphlet, ( I had bought it in Woolworth in Haifa), in my top pocket. It had an advert on the back "Steimatsks Guide To Palestine". His eyes widened in horror and he said, "You are a Jew?". I took the pamphlet from his fingers and turned it round so he could see its title "German for a Shilling". He laughed and said, "When you go home to England in five years time you will speak German". I laughed and said, "I'll be home for Christmas". We were both wrong but I was nearer than he was (April 1945) |
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| Dan went on to Prison Camp (Stalag 11B near Hannover), was moved, as forced labour, to a lead mine at Bad Grund, near the Harz mountains. In early spring of 1945, whilst being moved East, Dan escaped and was picked up by the advancing Americans. Spent a week in Paris before being repatriated home in April 1945. He is an active member of the Branch and enjoys the social scene very much (a true Para indeed). JD |