Canal Zoners

The date was January 1954 and we were just three guys who lived life to the full – our weekend went something like this – meet at 10 am on Saturday outside Burtons, the 50 bob tailors, go for a game of snooker for the princely sum of 6d (2½ new pence) for one hour, then off to a football match – either to Villa Park, the Hawthorns, the Moleneux, home of the Wolves – picking the best fixture of the day. One Saturday, whilst playing snooker, Johnny brought up the talk of National Service, which was now 2 years. He said that he was going to sign up for 3 years as the pay for a regular was £3 a week instead of 28 shillings and also you could pick your regiment. Two weeks later we all took a day off from work to go to the recruiting office in Queen St., Wolverhampton. After our medical we met the Recruiting Sergeant. He asked John “what regiment do you want?” “Marines” he replied. “Me too” said Tony. He then turned to me “I suppose you want the Marines too?” “No” said I, “I don’t want the infantry. I don’t want all that marching or too much bulling up of your kit. If ever I have to go into combat I would prefer to ride!”. “What you want lad is a tank regiment. They do not march a lot and probaby think a parade ground is a car park. All their webbing kit is black”. So John and Tony went to Lympstone for Marine training and I went off to Catterick – this was the last time we would meet again for over two years.

Catterick in North Yorkshire is not the best place to be in March – very cold and snowing, thirty men to a billet and we were allowed just one bucket of coal for a week. After being kitted out it was six weeks of square bashing and bulling kit brasses and boots like mirrors. This was just the thing that I did not want! After six weeks, having passed out, I was allocated my trade as signaler /driver and spent another six weeks on a radio course with a further one week on exercise on a Centurion tank – as a radio operator I did not want to be turret crew. I did my training with the 5th Dragoon Guards, nicknamed ‘The Skins’, but I do not know how they got this nickname.

Finally I was told my regiment would be 6th R.T.R. I was very proud to wear the black beret and tank badge with the moto ‘Fear Naught’. All tankies wear their beret with the badge in the centre of the forehead and the beret pulled down either side as all the crew wore headphones, not like todays tankies whose radios are built into their helmets. Our tin hats (‘Battle Bowlers’) were hung on the outside of the turret so they were easy to grab if you had to abandon the tank in a hurry.

We were given 3 weeks Draft Leave which I spent with a friend, Mick Donnally, in Ruddington, Nottingham. We had to take our kit on Leave with us. Our webbing in training had been blancoed so we had to dye all the webbing black and, when dry, use black boot polish to make it shine.

In July 1954, 12 new recruits joined our regiment in Munster, Western Germany. I was allocated to 8 Troop, B Sqdn. The barracks were excellent. I shared a room with three other guys. The barracks were an ex-German Fighter Base and the hangers housed all the regiments Centurion tanks (approx. 50). Our Troop Sergeant was Sgt Hardy, better known as ‘Tash’ due to his moustache. He called me over and told me that I was to be his wireless operator on the exercise next week on Salta Plain which was to last for 10 days. I enjoyed it very much, we would traverse the gun to the side of the tank and tie our bivoack to the gun barrel. This was an ‘open at the front’ type of tent which would sleep a four man tank crew side by side.

Back at the barracks, I went on my long awaited Driving Course with four weeks in the classroom learning all about maitaining all the mechanics and the famous V12 Rolls Royce Merlin engine. This is the most famous V12 which powered the Spitfire with speeds of 450 mph. When you fired up the Merlin engine, the hairs stood up on the back of your neck!

I had now done two Driving Courses and moved up to be the Troop Officer’s Driver, 2nd Lt Cleg, who wore pop bottle glasses and was completely useless out on exercises. On one occasion I made a mistake in the centre of Munster when I came to a large island and went round it to the left. As they drive on the right in Germany, coming towards me was a tram on rails. His face was a picture when he saw a 52 ton tank bearing down on him. We both stopped and I waved an apology to him. A local policeman stopped the traffic and waved us on muttering something about mad English. Everything went well for the next 18 months with only one more accident and the regiment moved back to England in February 1956, the end of a wonderful time in Germany

The crew of Callsign 44

Self, L/c Aubrey & Trooper Berry

Myself, Trooper Berry & L/c Aubrey

It was February 1956 and the whole Regiment had been given 72 hours Leave. By this time I had met my future wife. Her mother had a caravan down by the river Severn in Bridgenorth, Shropshire and, as my girlfriend had only just started to learn to drive, I drove us down in a fairly new Morris Minor. On Sunday morning the news came over the radio that 100,000 Reservists had been called up. I knew that I had better get back home pretty quickly as we had been told not to go more than 2 miles away from home. When I arrived home, my mother was worried as a telegram had arrived on Saturday and all it said was R.T.U. (Return to Unit). I was now 24 hours AWOL. A police car pulled up outside the house. “Are you Trooper Milner?” I was ordered to get my kit and was escorted to the railway station and put on the train. I thought I would be put on a charge when I got back to camp but the ‘flap’ was on and my crew had already stowed my kit on board. Our tanks were loaded onto civilian transporters ready to go to Devonport Docks and we went to the Citadel Barracks in Plymouth, home of the Commando’s. Over 900 tankies descended on the Citadel which normally houses about 600 Marines. We had to sleep where we could – most of us slept on the Parade Ground.

After 3 days only a dozen or so tanks had arrived. We had 4 L.S.T.’s at Devonport ready to load up so the C.O. ordered all drivers and commanders to go by lorry and drive our tanks to the Docks. My tank was approximately 12 miles out of Plymouth in a pub carpark. We entered the pub and found the crew of the Pickfords transporter and asked them to unload our Centurion but were informed that they didn’t work on Saturday or Sunday. The sergeant informed them that they had left a tank unguarded with 65 twenty pounders shells on board plus about 20,000 rounds of ammo for the Browning machine guns! With that they unshackled the tank and we were on our way to the Docks to board the L.S.T. By 5 o’clock we were loaded up and the L.S.T. moved off.

The L.S.T. must be the worst ship in the Royal Navy to travel on being flat bottomed and quite slow. We had 16 tanks in the hold as well as 2 and 3 ton Bedford lorries with supples. There was no Dining Rooms or Mess Rooms so you just eat wherever you could. On board was also a troop of Commando’s and another of the Royal West Kent. We had been at sea for about 5 days when one of the lads asked if this was the ‘task force’ – just 4 L.S.T.’s? Our troop sergeant had told us that we could retake the Suez Canal with 60 odd tanks and a few infantry. After a week at sea we went on deck to see the sight of 3 carriers – HMS ocean, HMS Bulwark and HMS Albion – plus quite a few destroyers, minesweepers, a hospital ship and numerous other ships. “Does that make you feel better?” asked our troop sergeant. “Too true!” we replied.

By now we were off the coast of Portugal with the weather getting warmer. It took us 9 days to get to Gibraltar where we made a stop to post and collect mail, then another 10 days and we arrived at Malta. We unloaded our tanks and drove to Marsa Racecourse to set up camp. The Maltese are very friendly people and each night boys would come and collect our K.D.’s and their mothers would wash and press them for 2/6d (12½p). We had approximately 5 months in Malta which was excellent. Anyone we has ever been to Malta will know that the buses are pre-war. They would stop outside the camp at 13:00 hrs every day. To go to Valetta at night you could get on the coach and share it with baskets of chickens and on one occasion there was even a Billy Goat! My friend asked why the drivers did not sit directly behind the steering wheel – they seemed to sit on the very outside of the seat. The driver explained that the coaches were very old and had poor brakes so they left room on the seat for the Madonna to take over! Life was good in Malta but in October we broke camp, loaded our tanks onto the L.S.T.’s (ours being HMS Suvla) and we were on our way to Egypt, where we arrived on the 5th November 1956.

At 6:00 hrs next morning we were waiting off shore while the V Bombers dropped their bombs. At 6:30 hrs our L.S.T. hit the beach and opened the bow doors. My friend, Cpl Tom Downey, went down the ramp first and fired the main armament, the 20 pounders. I followed only to be met by 3 Russian SU100 tanks. We fired at them and they obviously didn’t like the look of the Centurion with it’s far superior armament as they turned tail. We moved inland, supporting the Marines and the Para’s. We were going down the Main Street and in front of us was the Egyptian Customs & Excise warehouse. Many of you have probably seen the film ‘Kelly’s Heros’ with Clint Eastwood – well we didn’t shoot the doors off but just drove straight in! Our turret crew loaded the back decks with about 12 cases of brandy and a few thousand cigarettes and then went on our merry way. The heat was so intense, approx 50 degrees inside the tank, so most of us were only wearing shorts and boots. By 18:00 hrs it was getting dark so we made camp and had something to eat. The O.C. of ‘B’ Sqdn came past and asked what we had on the back decks, we told him just a few cases of brandy and he told us to share them with the rest of the squadron.

Day 2, 7th November, following our first decent meal in 24 hours we were on the move assisting the infantry to clear the streets. Things were going quite well when I saw two Green Berets at the side of the tank, using it for cover. Straight away I recognised them as my friends from back home, Tony & John. I shouted at them “Do you two want a lift?” Tony shouted back “You said if you ever went to war then you would prefer to ride”.

By midday the heat was unbearable. A call came over the radio for assistance from the Royal Engineers who were acting as stevedor unloading the ships of supplies but were pinned down by two snipers in a mosque. One of our tanks went over and we heard the commander over the radio “Don’t bother with the Browning, put a 20 pounder in the breach and fire into the middle of the mosque” With that the building was demolished.

Later on that day, another message. This time from the Para’s who were pinned down by Egyptian troops on the East Side of Port Said in the cemetery. Four tanks from our troop got over there to assist. They obviously did not like the look of us as within half an hour they had withdrawn but sadly about 6 men lost their lives there.

After it was all over we had loads to stuff which was now useless and which was burnt on the beach. On the outskirts of the town was a rifle range, being about 60 ft wide by 30 ft high. We put a lot of the captured ammunition, land mines and anti-personnel mines at the foot of the wall and, with a demolitions expert, we ran the fuse wire about 250 yards – I have never heard such a noise, neither had the funeral party in the cemetery who came running out, screaming!

We were now doing escort duties to an RAF Airfield, some 6 miles up the coast road, with a Centurion front and rear and the vehicles in between us. A friend from another troop asked why our troop volunteers every day for escort duties and I told him that when we get to the RAF Camp we get fish and chips – which goes to prove the RAF are spoilt (no offence intended!).

The full crew of Callsign 44

2nd Lt Tinnis, Myself, Tpr Berry & L/c Aubrey

Relaxing on the beach waiting to load onto

LST. L/c Aubrey, Self & Tpr Berry