The Rushden Echo & Argus, 13^th October, 1944, transcribed by Gill Hollis

Man Who Fought Near Arnhem
Cut Off In Battle For Vital Bridge

  One of those given the task of reaching our troops at the Arnhem bridgehead and bringing up supplies, Gnr. Samuel Turnock, Anti-tank Airborne Regiment, arrived back at his home at 144, Higham-road, Rushden, on Thursday.

  He and his comrades had not gone far on this dangerous land mission when their convoy was split up and a few of them were stranded, having to make the most of what little rations they had with them.

  Here they were two miles from the Arnhem fighters and were under mortar fire themselves.  They were able to see across the Rhine and the bridge at Arnhem but it was impossible to get through to the troops.

  The village people were very good to them and invited them into their homes.

  When they were preparing one evening meal, four priests came along to see how they were getting on, and in the way of lending a hand took hold of jack knives and started peeling potatoes.

  When the Arnhem men were ordered to withdraw, Gnr. Turnock’s group secured a German truck and got back to Brussels.

  Gnr. Turnock emphasized how “marvelous” the people were to them in all the liberated areas.

  Holland, he said, was “practically littered with gliders and parachutes,” and the people could be seen collecting odd pieces to take back to the Allied authorities.

  Asked about the Dutch people’s reaction to the Arnhem episode, Gnr. Turnock said that they were very concerned about it all – even more than the British were themselves.  He added that the Dutch patriots were doing fine work.

Three Years’ Service

  Gnr. Turnock is married, and is the third son of Mrs. R. Turnock, of 74, Wharf-road, Higham Ferrers.  He is 34 years of age and used to work for Messrs. Walker and Gunn, being well known as a cricketer and footballer for Higham Ferrers, Rushden and Wellingborough teams.  He has been in the Army for nearly three years and has served in North Africa and the Central Mediterranean.  One brother is at Gibraltar, one in the East, and another with the R.A.F., while a sister and another brother are in the N.F.S.  His mother works in the Higham Ferrers Day Nursery.

The Rushden Echo and Argus, 14^th April, 1944, transcribed by Gill Hollis

They Were Coming Back From Germany
The Grim Watch at A Fortress Airfield
(By our own representative)

  They were coming back from Germany – back to this pleasant piece of rural England.  They would come into view as a cluster of dark little marks beneath the high and rolled-up clouds.  They would circle round, peel off, and transform themselves from birds of the air to mechanical monsters of the land.

  Back to the earth they left in the grey morning, the Fortresses of the ----Bomber Group would clatter almost in procession to their dispersal points.  Then there would be news of the mission – of targets and fights, of successes and losses.

  A smart breeze swept across this now-famous airfield – one of those queer, untidy areas where Nature and Armageddon seem to have competed for domination and left the struggle undecided.  Huge hangars, ugly utility buildings, vast paths of concrete, wastes of rough brown earth, a few dark-hued tents – these disputed with fresh green grass, half-clothed hedges, and countless trees that softly fringed the horizon.

  Fortresses idle to-day, but apparently ready for the next call, squatted here, there and almost everywhere.  Jeeps, lorries and men moved constantly about the perimeter.

Life or Death

  Rounding a long, low building, we were at the heart of the station – the briefing rooms where before daybreak the men now flying stood before the great wall maps and studied the task assigned to them.  Once again the day’s schedule of life or death had moved round to landing time, and once again the station was “sweating it out.”….

  A curious term; but, like most American expressions it meets the case exactly.  Your comrades in their battle planes should be back now from a long and particularly hazardous flight.  They are not to be seen – and the breeze blows more chilly as the spring sun lowers.  You have seen a hundred missions out and in.  It doesn’t matter; this one draws you to the homing point, and every passing minute pulls the tension harder.

A Single Mind

  I joined the waiting cluster and saw it grow into a crowd; officers and men – some who needed to be there, and many who just felt compelled to sweat it out.  An American military crowd, in its variety of garb, can look very casual or happy-go-lucky.  This one had a grim and single mind.  Where were the Forts?.... Well, perhaps they were up against a head-wind.

  Someone made a sign, and all turned to look.  But these were Liberators belonging somewhere else, and not on serious business either – their formation was much to prim.

  The wait dragged on, and I thought the group would not return.

  Suddenly there were dark formations in the sky.  One passed overhead in proud order and with amazingly confident roar.  It was viewed through dozens of binoculars, but it “didn’t belong” here.  The Colonel, an officer of quiet and courteous mien, clenched and unclenched his fist.  The others stalked about like cats.

Warriors Home

  But another formation was on the turn and it was the right one.  The ‘planes were counted up and the absentees were few.  Relaxing on the instant, the ground staff admired the peeling-off operation which, though they have seen it times without number, never ceases to fascinate them.  Machines detach themselves in threes, and circles are formed so that the landings are well-spaced but continuous.

  Soon at the distant end of the runway the warrior planes were touching down to ride smoothly across the field.  Coming to the outer track they turned towards us and moved steadily past with inner propeller stilled.

  “Leap Year Lady,” “Reich’s Ruin,” “Outhouse Mouse” and all the rest of them processed in noisy triumph.  We could see many of the men.  Some waved a hand.  One wore his big peaked cap and struck a sporting note as he raised his head above the “roof.”  A few new flak holes were apparent, most of the machines bore patches where old ones had been covered.

Out of the Line

  Presently a silver Fortress turned out of the line and stopped.  This meant that someone aboard was wounded.  We hurried to the spot and found the Red Cross vehicle already in position.

  Slowly and carefully an airman was lowered through a hatch; he was the navigator, and his arm had been hit.  Two uniformed girls stood quietly by as he was placed on a stretcher and into the ambulance; then they took him off to hospital – very slowly, at first, when the ground was uneven.

  The silver Fortress was a gleaming beauty.  Its yellow-tipped propellers of black were a picture of glossy perfection, and everything looked immaculate until you came upon the side window with its small but wicked flak hole.

  This plane, too, went off to a distant dispersal point, and others followed without further incident.

Fortress Heroes

  Very soon afterwards a lorry brought the first crew to the briefing rooms for report and interrogation.  Each man carried a heavy bundle of personal equipment – over his shoulders, perhaps, or dragging from the hands.  Some had maps and papers.

  They were men of all types.  Some needed a shave, some looked oily and one had a patch of iodine on his cheek.  Their expressions varied from grim to contemplative, but they were alike as peas in a certain quality, hard to analyse, but easy to recognise as toughness and resolution.  The stranger instinctively thanked heaven that they were on our side.

  Cooped up in turrets and cockpits from daybreak till evening, they must have been tired as dogs, yet all, in this great hour of battle’s end, were characteristically American in their haste.  Clapped on the back by one friend, or exchanging a terse greeting with another, they just hurried inside.

The Monkey’s Ride

  On one airman’s bundle perched a real live monkey, home from its tenth mission.

  “Where’s my double Scotch?” asked one thirsty hero.  Refreshments of various kinds fortunately awaited them.  The interrogation, however, must proceed, and though the animation inside the block seemed strangely reminiscent of a dressing room at a baseball field, there was vital business in the rooms allotted to pilots, navigators and others.

  News spread quickly that the going had been outstandingly tough.  One veteran of twenty missions said he had never met anything worse.  There were stories of friends and foes going down in flames – of miraculous parachuting from blazing machines.  I heard no boasting; a few snappy phrases sufficed to sum up a world of stark experience.

  And the Fortress men came out into the English evening, and lugged up their bundles, and strode away towards their huts among the greening coppices.  They are men to be remembered forever in the Midlands countryside where the runways now pointing to Germany are the springboards of glorious history.

A fallen tree across the road was an obstacle, but not half the obstacle a shell was when it hit the tank, one of a squadron of the 15/19 Hussars, driven by Trooper Peter Smith, of 8 Station-road, Rushden.

A tank had gone forward alone along the straight tree-lined road which led to the enemy positions on the Western Front.

The shell hit the tank as it was going at speed, went straight through and knocked the top off a CO2 bottle. Smith thought the tank was on fire when it filled with white vapour, and he baled out. He realised he had not got his pistol, so was clambering back when the Boche opened up on him.

Corpl. J. Whiteman, of Huddersfield, the tank gunner, was looking for just such a target, and Jerry had not even time to press the trigger twice. Smith got back, restarted the engine, and in trying to get the tank off the road, bellied it on a bank. Whiteman, meanwhile was having fun. He had disposed of an anti-tank gun and was potting at snipers when one suddenly appeared near the tank. A child would not have missed.

20 Yards Away

As the commander, Lt. T. D. Seigne, of St. Anne’s-hill, Cork, was watching a battle going on on his right, he spotted a German trailer under a tree. Whiteman chalked another one up.

The battle shifted to the right and what appeared to be a Panther tank, two SP guns and several anti-tank guns opened fire. Another squadron tank came up the road behind the earth-bound tank and Lieut. Seigne was staggered to see the Boche fire on it only 20 yards from where he was standing.

For two hours, the tank and the anti-tank gun had been in such close proximity and the German had laid doggo in hiding. He had hit the approaching tank, but his success was short-lived. Whiteman once more did his stuff.

Another hitherto unobserved anti-tank gun from straight down the road opened up on the disabled tank and a shell burst a few yards from the tracks.

Pulled Clear

Lieut Seigne got down and examined his own tank to find it undamaged. He called his sergeant up to tow him off the bank, and the tow rope was being fastened when a spandau fired on them. The sergeant, who was on the look-out silenced that, the tow rope was fixed, and the tank pulled clear.

Liuet. Seigne afterwards went back and rescued the gunner and operator of another tank and put them on the back of his tank only to see the Boche level a bazooka at the Cromwell. Though it hit the tank, mercifully it neither injured the crew and passengers nor damaged the tank.

Trooper Smith, formerly of Stamford, where his father resides, joined the Army nearly five years ago, and in 1942 married Miss Ivy Childs, of Rushden. He has an eight-months-old daughter.

Cleared Germans from House – Rushden Soldier in West Front Adventure
(By a Military Correspondent)

When a company commander of the Lincolnshire Regiment on the Western front was warned by civilians in the area that the Boche were occupying a large house about 1,000 yards in front of his positions, he sent a platoon, including Pte. G. F. Nichols, of “Reighton,” Avenue-road, Court Estate, Rushden, with a troop of tanks under command, to clear them out.

For about the first 500 yards, the platoon rode on the tanks. When they came to a wood, they dismounted, and Lieut. Preistly, in command, sent the tanks round the back of the wood to a point on the edge, from which they had a good field of view for putting down fire on the house.

Ran Into Trap

The platoon, meanwhile, advanced under cover of a position about 100 yards from the house, the plan being that the tanks should put down a heavy “stonk” on the house, following which the platoon would put in their assault.

The tanks opened up and succeeded in hitting the top storey of the house, and a barn which stood beside it before they ceased firing.

Under cover of a Bren gun, Liuet. Priestly and eleven men doubled forward to the house; the intention being completely to surround it. Before they were able to do this four or five Jerries ran out of the building; but in so doing ran straight towards a machine-gunner whom Lieut. Priestly had placed a little distance from the house to cut off any who succeeded in escaping. All were either killed or wounded.

Grenade Assault

The assaulting party then entered the house from the rear, and throwing a grenade into each room before they entered it, soon cleared the building killing 12 and injuring several others.

Pte. Nichols, the Rushden member of the platoon, is 36, and married. Joining the Army four years ado, he served in Iceland for a time, and has been on the European front since. “D-Day” plus three. Before call up he worked at the Rushden C.W.S. factory, and belonged to clubs in the town.

The Rushden Echo and Argus, 1^st December, 1944

Knocked Out Three Guns
Rushden Tank Man Directs Brilliant Feat
(By a Military Observer)

  A brief but brilliant action fought by a small party of the Armoured Recce Regiment in 11 Armoured Division accounted for three of the enemy’s deadly self-propelled guns.

  The Meuse-Escaut Canal immediately south of the Belgian-Dutch frontier had been taken the day before by infantry, but the morning dawned with everything obscured by a heavy mist.  A troop from the regiment advanced under cover of the mist towards the known position of an S.P. gun and got to within 400 yards of it when the mist cleared.

  Away on the right a British 17-pounder gun was knocked out by a single shell from the S.P. gun and the troop realised the hazards of their position.  Owing to marsh-land, narrow roads and limited manoeuvrability, the position could only accommodate four or five tanks, and even then they were completely exposed.  Sgt. M. F. Hollis, of 76, Wellingborough-road, Rushden (later wounded) went into action.

  His gunner, Tpr. C. A. Jewiss, of Gravesend, told an Observer Officer how as they advanced the S.P. gun opened up and missed the tank by inches.  Sgt. Hollis spotted the flash, gave the direction and range, Jewiss fired two A.P. shots, and when the enemy baled out, knew he had scored a bull.

Gun Captured

  The tank crept along a bit further to the edge of the wood and the sergeant saw another flash.  Over the intercom Jewiss told him he had seen it too.  Another two A.P. shots and another lot of Boche poured out of another S.P. gun.  From the same position a third was observed, but this one made its presence felt by firing first.  The shell zipped past the tank turret.  In a steady voice Sgt. Hollis gave the range and Jewiss popped off the fifth and sixth A.P. shots.  Some more Boche lost their gun.

  A smoke screen was put down and the R.E.’s advanced to destroy the enemy guns, only to discover that one had been hit but had been left with the engine running and the radio intact.  That was driven back as a trophy for Intelligence.  Jewiss had made rather a mess of the other two, so they were completely destroyed and left where they were.

  Sgt. Maurice Frederick Hollis married Miss Mary Swales, of 78, Wellingborough Road, Rushden, over two years ago.  Aged 24, he has been in the Army over seven years, and his parents live at Birmingham.  He is now in hospital at Leicester.

The Rushden Echo and Argus, 15^th December, 1944

Dragged Crew From Tank
Rushden Soldier Also Stalks “Tigers”
(By a Military Observer)

  Using their gun to deadly effect, Sergt. V. Ellis, M.M., Lance-Corporal J. H. Ireland, and Lance-Corporal G. H. Barnes, of 65, St. Margaret’s-avenue, Rushden, tank crew of a Sherman serving with the 5^th Royal Tank Regiment, “bagged” three enemy tanks in less than 24 hours.

  The Regiment was attacking in the area of Bourgebus last July, and Sergt. Ellis’s tank was one of the first to get into the village.  “Niggling about in the streets looking for enemy opposition, they saw a parent tank get knocked out by a direct hit from a Tiger.  Lance-Corporal Barnes, who was driving, immediately stopped, got out from the tank, and, in full view of the Boches, ran across to the one k.o.’d and dragged the crew out, putting them behind a brick wall for protection.

  Mounting his own tank again, he could not get the engine to start and again jumped out, this time to get a tow.  Meanwhile the Tiger had come up, the Commander standing up waving his hat and firing a Verey pistol, presumably sending for assistance.  Barnes managed to get the engine running and swung the tank into a good position for Lance-Corporal Ireland, who immediately “let drive.”  The first shot was a direct hit, but just to make sure Ireland banged a few more in and “brewed” it up

Through The Haystack.

  While this was going on another Tiger appeared from round a haystack at the other end of the village, and fired at them.  Luckily the shot missed, but it was so close, Ireland says, he “felt the wind as it went by.”  The Tiger then disappeared behind the haystack again, the crew no doubt thinking they could not be spotted, but Lance-Corporal Barnes did some very rapid manoeuvring, and brought his Sherman broadside on to the stack.  Ireland aimed his gun at the centre of it and fired, the shot going clean through and registering a direct hit.  Just for luck he put two more in and that was the end of Tiger number two.

  They went into a holding position for the night, but at first light next morning returned and took up position behind a hedge.  Almost immediately, a third Tiger appeared about 800 years away, firing at some British tanks  on their right, and again Ireland “popped off,” the first shot hitting the turret and the second setting it on fire.

  Lance-Corpl. Barnes then had to ‘beat it,’ as the blast from their gun and blown the hedge away, leaving the tank exposed.  No more Tigers were seen, but the crew thought three was pretty good going and didn’t mind calling it a day.

  The O.C. also thought it was a good show and gave them his bottle of whisky.

  Lance-Corporal George Henry Barnes is aged 34 and has a wife and two sons.  He has been in the Army since June, 1940.  He went to Egypt in November of the same year and was at El Alamein and Tunis.  After that he fought in the Salerno bridgehead and returned from Italy to this country before going to France on D. Day.  The latest news of him came from Holland.  He was formerly employed by Messrs. Walter Sargent and Co., Ltd., boot manufacturers.