Preston North End FC, Deepdale, a stone's throw from Fulwood Barracks - and at Stevenage,
Hertfordshire. Finally, on the 8th, the battery reached Camp A4 south of Horndean, near
Portsmouth, one of thousands of vast tented towns that had sprung up in the Hampshire countryside
to accommodate the invasion forces.
317, still in the Inverness area, travelled via Carlisle, Doncaster and Lutterworth to reach
Horndean on April 11. 319 did not start its journey until the 20th, transferring from Castle Douglas
via Preston, Wellington and Cirencester to a holding camp at Tournay Barracks, Aldershot.
The 92nd was to be split into four detachments for the invasion. The major task fell to F Troop of
318 Battery, which - with a signals section - would be the only unit of the regiment to land on D-Day
itself, coming ashore on Queen Red sector of Sword Beach.Its assignment was right at the sharp end of Overlord - protecting the vital bridges across the
Caen Canal and River Orne at Benouville on the eastern flank of the invasion area. At that time,
the bridges were known only by their codenames of Rugger and Cricket, but would go down in
history as Pegasus Bridge and Horsa Bridge. On D plus 1, D and E Troops of 318 would land
with RHQ to reinforce F Troop. At the same time, a marching party of 318 men would land
separately and make its way to the bridges. On D plus 6, 317 would make its crossing to
France, followed by 319 on D plus 21. With these schedules in mind, RHQ and D and E
Troops left Portsmouth at the end of April for Aldershot, from where they would travel to their
disembarkation point in East London. F Troop, under the command of Captain Reid, stayed at
Horndean, with 317 based nearby.
In the following days, unit censorship was imposed and the regiment was given its operational
codes to be used for Overlord. For the men sealed in the camps, there was little to do but play
endless games of cards, bingo, and pitch and toss, to re-check equipment - and to wait. Cut off
from the outside world, the perimeter patrolled by Military Police, they were given small pre-
printed cards to send to their relatives, telling them little else but that they were in good health.
As the build-up to D-Day intensified, the troop and its vehicles were moved out of the camp
for three days while other units of the initial assault forces were given their briefings. The nearby
roadside became the gunners' temporary home and they bedded down each night underneath
their SP Bofors and lorries. There were strict orders not to speak to civilians.
During this lull, waterproofing of vehicles was carried out and the soldiers each received an
inflatable lifebelt, 24-hour ration packs and self-heating soups and cocoa. French francs were
issued, along with a booklet telling them about France and the French. Bright yellow pennants
were also distributed, which were to be used to identify themselves to aircraft or other troops on
the battlefield. All personal letters and papers were ordered to be burned.
Then the men of F Troop were transferred back inside the camp and fully briefed on their own
mission. Codenames were still being used for places and enemy strongpoints, but the gunners'
objective was clear - they must get to the bridges.
a final rehearsal for Overlord. All along the South Coast, the invasion forces were assigned to
beaches corresponding to those they would attack in Normandy. Loaded on to landing craft, the
division disembarked near Littlehampton, with the objective of `capturing' the town of Arundel,
unknown to most of the soldiers, the counterpart of Caen in Normandy.
This was one of several occasions when the men, still not knowing when D-Day would be,
believed the operation might be going ahead for real. `We thought, �This is it, we must be
going,�' George Baker recalled. `We would get into the landing craft, go so far out into the
Channel, then come back again. You had to always be on the alert.'
Another young F Troop gunner, Len Harvey - a Londoner in a unit overwhelmingly composed
of Merseyside 'Scousers' - remembered a sailor guiding them on to the landing craft, saying:
'Come on boys, this is the real thing.' The men laughed - they had heard that one before. During
Exercise Fabius, 317 was transferred from Horndean to Camp 60 at Brookwood near
Aldershot.
On Saturday May 13, at Denmead outside Portsmouth, 50 men of 92nd LAA paraded for a
visit to 3rd Division by the Supreme Commander, General Dwight Eisenhower. He moved
among the troops, speaking to several, then addressed them all on their forthcoming mission -
promising that once they had crossed the Rhine, he would stand them a party. `It was good to
see your division looking so fit and in such good spirits,' Eisenhower later wrote to the divisional
commander, Major-General Tom Rennie. In the same village on the 22nd, the men of F Troop
and others from the regiment were called to join another parade. While they stood waiting rigidly
at attention, they were amazed to see sergeants coming around and frantically giving each man's
boots a final polish with a duster.
Soon after, the reason for the extra-special treatment became clear. The uniformed figure
making the inspection was the King. But now, with D-Day fixed for June 5, all sections of the
great assault army began dispersing to final assembly areas. From Aldershot, D and E Troops of
318 and RHQ transferred to Camp T7 at Wanstead Flats, an open area of East London, where
they carried out final waterproofing trials and prepared vehicles and guns for embarkation.
On June 3, at Tilbury, the marching party of two officers and 58 men from 318 went aboard
tank landing ship 3203, which would carry them to Normandy. At the same time, D and E
Troops and their equipment, plus RHQ, were loaded aboard the liberty ship Sambut at Victoria
Dock on the Thames and steamed to Southend. From there, they were due to leave in convoy
for Normandy on D-Day, landing on June 7 to reinforce F Troop at the Benouville bridges.
through the mass of troops and equipment crowding the harbour at Gilkicker, Gosport, near
Portsmouth, the six guns, accompanied by lorries and signallers, reached the Stokes Bay Hards
berthing area. By 9.30pm that evening, they had boarded two tank landing craft, fleet numbers
405 and 408 - three guns to each vessel.
Clutching their myriad personal equipment - including rifle and pack, 'inspiring' leaflets from
Eisenhower and Montgomery, and a supply of vomit bags - the men saw their vehicles safely
chained to the decks, then slipped into the spaces in between the mobile guns, trying to get some
rest and to clear their minds of growing apprehension.
Once all was secure, the two LCTs moved out of harbour as part of Flotilla 47 to link up with
the rest of the gigantic fleet. But, agonisingly, the waiting continued. With summer storms lashing
the Channel, Eisenhower was forced to postpone the invasion. Confined in their swaying ships,
the troops could only try to quell their seasickness and hope that the misery would soon end.
Time dragged by with painful slowness, testing nerves to the limit. Twenty-four hours passed
and still the storms raged, still the soldiers waited.