Irish Brigade

The story of the 38th (Irish) Brigade in the Second World War

Faugh a Ballagh        Nec Aspera Terrent         Quis Separabit


Tuesday 6th December 1943

From behind the front line north of the River Sangro

(The Irish Brigade attack on German positions north of the River Sangro connecting Fossacessia and Mozzagrogna began on the morning of 30 November. 1 RIF was either supporting action or in action until the evening of 5 December when it was pulled out the line for rest. The 8th Army continued to attack the eastern end of the German Winter line along the River Moro until offensive action was suspended on 26 December 1943)

My Dearest Olive,

I am sorry I have not been able to write for some time but the BBC and newspapers probably made the reason fairly obvious. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever write again but thank goodness I came through alright and now I think we are in for a nice long rest.

Well, I thought the spell in October pretty bad, but I think this was even worse. A brief day by day description will give you some idea of what we went through.

We spent several days in a concentration area right by the artillery and day and night we were kept awake by the thunder of their guns. Then one night, we marched about ten miles, waded across a river (Sangro), and lay up in an assembly area. I will never forget my runner, severely wounded since, poor little fellow, following me into the river and exclaiming in tones of great surprise, ‘Jesus, it’s cold’. The following day and night we lay in our slit trenches and the next morning moved forward.  We were subject to some very heavy shelling, which caused a number of casualties including Alan Smyth (Lt Albert Smyth), killed. He was the third officer in the Company. We had another icy cold night without any blankets, greatcoats, or food and the following day went into a big attack. For once, the ‘Faughs’ had an easy time: the line being broken for us. Though we advanced quite a distance, we met with very few casualties and captured a lot of prisoners.That night, coming back to the ration point, I fell over a cliff and crashed down about 40 feet. I was rather stunned and very sick for a time.

The next day, we ‘mopped up’ over a considerable area of rough country. That night, we were fairly comfortable in a farmhouse and managed to get some sleep at last. The next day and night was fairly quiet. Early the following morning, I received a message to take over command of ‘A’ Coy immediately as Toby Jewell had been wounded. This Coy has just come back from a violent 36 hour patrol and I found I had one officer Edward, 1 Sergeant, 2 Corporals, and 2 L/Cpls. I spent the day reorganising and that night we marched forward about 12 miles and took up a position on a ridge as the most forward troops of the 8th Army.

The next morning, it was discovered the Germans had come up onto the same ridge that night and the most confusing battle imaginable occurred. The CO kept my Company in reserve for a time but suddenly the Germans broke through the centre and brought heavy MG fire to bear on the Battalion HQ. The CO said to me, ‘Take what’s left of your Company up as quick as you can, Lawrie, and clear the ridge’.  God, what an order!

Somehow, we reached the top and then came the task of locating these posts. At first, I put a section in front but the men were tired and jittery and would not push forward and I had to go in front myself. We were being fired at all the time but could not locate the position.  Eventually, I got a pretty shrewd idea and got my Brens down to fire and found only one of them was working, so this Bren gunner and I, with my Tommy gun, kept a fire duel with the Hun. Suddenly, he stopped, but we kept on for a short time and then worked round to find that we had killed 3, wounded 2 and the rest had managed to get away, but they left their weapons behind.

When I told the CO over the wireless he said, ‘Well done, well done indeed’. That night, we dug in on the ridge and the following day were subjected to very heavy mortar fire.  We were being relieved in the evening and I had two most unpleasant recees to make. That night, we were relieved and marched back 12 miles and even then we were shelled most of the way back.

Casualties reached a fair number: Tommy Wood (Major Richard Wood) killed, McNally wounded, we have very few officers left but Denis, Edward (who supported me splendidly) and Dicky Richards are alright. Poor little ‘Ginger’ Rhodes (L/Cpl Bertram Rhodes) who I told you about was killed, 19 years of age. He was 2 L/Cpl of a Section and the Corporal in command of the Section had struck up a tremendous friendship with him and he initially went mad, starting to push forward, shooting and shouting wildly. He had to be knocked unconscious and is at present insane. That is war, Olive, stripped of all the nice wireless and newspaper talk. We certainly hated the Hun yesterday, one man waved a white flag and then shot down two of our men. He did not live long.

The strain has been appalling, I feel an old tired man but I suppose will recover after a rest.  I have just taken over command of ‘B’ Coy, my old Company and the men seem delighted to have me back with them and I am overjoyed to be commanding my own boys who I know will support me through ‘thick and thin’. We are all desperately tired. I have not had a change of clothing for about 3 weeks and feel absolutely filthy. Last night, I took my boots off for the first time in 9 days.

All my love to you and dear little Valerie, darling.

Your devoted husband

Lawrence

Read letter dated 9 December 1943



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