The Ypres-Comines Battle, 1940
On the 26th of May, the Admiralty signalled "Operation Dynamo is to begin." This was about the re-embarkment of the British Expeditionary Force, so well remembered at Dunkirk.
I remember that day very well. I was a soldier with the Royal Warwickshire Regiment (8th Battalion) and had just disengaged from the battle at Calonne, where we sustained very heavy casualties. The long march through the night brought us to a spot not far from the Ypres-Comines canal.
My recollections of this action begin with having a rest under a hedge, where we were given a 'bully beef' sandwich. We thought we had lost the cooks some miles behind us as we were so hungry after the long trek from Calonne. I was then put on to priming hand grenades.
At dusk, we marched along a road towards a canal which, we were given to understand, would be the front line, and we were to take over some positions held by the Ox and Bucks for they were very widely spread out.
As I remember, we waited around for a short time until it was dark, then moved further along the road, or lane as it was hardly wide enough for two vehicles. I cannot remember any hedges, just a ditch either side of the road. We paused at a farmhouse (Woestyn's) on the left, which stood back some ten or twelve yards. It was a fairly square house with a hedge to the right and front, with a path leading to the front door. The entrance to the farm was on the left, with barns, cowpens, etc at the back, all single storey. About twelve of us went down a slight incline until we came to a small brick building which was difficult to identify in the dark. I think it had two rooms. However, the track stopped with what looked like a ridge of earth across it. A couple of lads were told to dig in there, which caused amusement because when they got down to feel the ground, it was a hard metalled road! It would have needed a pickaxe to get into it, let alone the infantry spades they carried on their belts.
However, I was told to take my men to a trench to the right, so I felt my way across the field. It was, as far as I remember, about 100 yards away. We got in and waited until it got a little lighter, only to find that we were not far from a long hollow in the ground, but no canal. It had ceased to be a canal twenty years previously. I put my Bren gun on the parapet and slowly raised my head to get into a firing position and was immediately shot at. We took it in turns to try to get a view of the land in front of us, in the hope of seeing a target and to try to locate the sniper, but no such luck! We were obviously in a very poor position, my Bren gun jammed with mud in the ejection opening, and we were not too happy. Although I got the Bren gun to work, it was difficult for anyone to lift their head above ground long enough to see a target.
In order to ascertain where all the bullets were coming from, I got one of the men to raise his tin hat on his rifle, while I tried to peep from the other end of our short trench. It was just above ground level when a bullet caught the edge of it, so our sniper was not at ground level, because we did not get to see the horizon before being fired on. After a while we were told to withdraw to the road and join some others. In order to get out alive, I planned to raise the Bren above the trench, fire several bursts at where I thought the sniper was, then jump out. I told the others to follow me and, so far as I know, most of them did. Fortunately we were left alone for a moment or two and as the trench was five feet deep, it was not easy to climb out; then we dashed across completely open ground and got back to a slightly better position near the road.
Darkness fell and I went across to the little brick building because I could see a light. Inside, I saw an officer sitting in front of a candlelit map on a small improvised table. He sat with his head in his hands and was obviously distressed, but I felt that I had to tell him that the light could be seen from outside. He told me, in so many words, that that was the least of his worries; he had only a very few untrained men, very little ammunition, and how could he hold the German Army? I understood how he felt, for I had seen one of the boys who had called up with me on the road outside, exactly where we had left him, behind a pile of rubble, the night before. He was a small, very frightened young man from Birmingham. We had told him not to do anything silly and to keep his head down. He had not followed out advice, for when I turned him over I saw that a bullet had gone through his forehead, right between his eyes.
At dawn, we decided to pull back to the farm and try to regroup by going up the ditch by the roadside to Company HQ. We soon found that rifle fire was coming straight up the ditch and I can remember the heavy machine gun and anti-tank bullets flying up the road. It was a case of jump up, run a yard or two and drop down again, this action repeated many times. It was a case of moving after a bullet had gone by before the next one came. If you were too slow you stopped one. While pausing for a breath, three mortar bombs dropped in the middle of the road. I heard them, of course, as they were ear-shattering and landed just three yards away from me. I lifted my head and could see that there was not speck of dust on the road where they fell. I am sure it was Captain Burge who was with me at the time, but he went back to fetch some of the others.
A little further on, I gave the order to the man in front to go, but the man in front of him would not move, so he could not. I tried again a little later, but fear had gripped him, having seen his mate killed in front of him. I had to jump over the two of them, but only just in time. This was getting beyond a nightmare. There must have been five of our men killed trying to reach the farm. Just a little further and the ditch turned to the right. I made a final effort to turn the corner, hoping to find a bank from behind which I could fire back on the enemy. Unfortunately, it was full of 'sock' from the farm.
I ran towards the back door of the farmhouse, knowing that (a) I was in full view of the enemy and (b) that anyone inside might think I was the enemy. I paused, thank God, and at that moment three bullets flew over my shoulder and into the doorpost before my eyes.
There was a group of soldiers behind the house so I joined them and, from the roadside ditch, could return the fire until my ammunition ran out. I was wounded by a bullet through my left side and a bullet through my left upper arm, then, thinking I had better relax, I lowered my head and at that moment a bullet went through my right ear. It would have gone through my head had I not moved.
Suddenly I heard voices amid the terrific noise of gunfire and a Hun appeared on the other side of the farmhouse hedge and someone quickly dealt with him. My captain called out that his revolver had jammed; the ejector had jumped out, leaving the spent cartridges in position. I do not know if he managed to reload before a junior German officer and three or four boys in field grey appeared on the road. We were so outgunned that we had no choice but to step up onto the road. As I stood up, holding my left arm, the under officer fired his revolver at someone just behind me. Blood flowed from my ear. I turned to see that the shot had gone through the person's right hand which he was holding above his shoulder. I was horrified to think that he could shoot anyone in the surrender position.
In times like this, one feels as if one is somehow totally involved in some kind of horror film. Those of us who could walk were taken down the road, over the 'dry' canal, to the village of Korentje, only to be shelled by our own artillery!
When it was over, we were taken to a CCS (Casualty Clearing Station) in a school with about twenty other and told, "For you, the war is over." At least we had held up the German 61st Division for three days.
Shared by Amelia and Louis Schafer, his great-grandchildren
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