Stories Page 2
Back
Forward
Home
Index
Stories
David's Story
David Brazier. David's story is an unsual and unhappy one as his memory of the war years are impaired due to a horrific accident. This will be explained later on. This story is in his own words.
I joined the RAF in 1942 at the age of sixteen and a half, in what you would call to today the Boys Service. After serving a year, and still not old enough to sign on as regular, it was disclosed to the higher echelon that I had worked in the Coal Mines for 18 months ( Beven Boys). For the RAF this meant I was surplus to requirements and was discharged.
Six months later I received my call up papers, signing on for the Army in 1943. Training was at Chatham and Worcester. It was a short basic training as I had done all my drill with the RAF which was acknowledged.
I joined the Derbyshire Yoemanry as a Tank Driver.
My first posting abroad was Algeria. It was a mopping up job after the rout of the German Army, from Egypt, Libya and Tunisia.
I was driving a Sherman Tank, which we had received from the Americans as back up for the shortage of British Tanks.
Sherman Tank
My next port of call was Italy. Again not on the front line, but a cleaning up and establishing of order as we passed North behind the retreating Germans. I was now in "A" Squadron, which was branded a bit of a maverick bunch of lads. Over the next years these men became my close friends.
By now we had changed from Tanks to Armoured cars. I was now driving a Chevrolet T17 Staghound.
This was the first power assisted armoured car that the British Army had used. A pleasure to drive, however temperamental they were. We had a great crew.
Staghound T17
Over the months I had started to make a full circle of my time abroad. I had travelled with "A" Sqdr. through Palestine and Egypt , back to Libya. My first permanent posting was at Homs, situated between Benghazi and Tripoli.
The Staghound as I mentioned was a trifle temperamental, and was prone to many teething problems like all new designed vehicles. My own was no exception and after being in the workshop for a while we had to take her out on a test run.
We headed south for the Tarhuna area, over rough terrain. Test driving entailed putting your foot down and giving it all ,it had. The Staghound could reach up to 55 mph.
At speed the steering housing seized up and we plowed into a Wadi. The Periscope mounting in front of me took the top of my head off, and the steering wheel pierced my stomach.
All other memories were wiped out and even today they cannot be recalled.
After a long period of hospital and many surgeries later, I was discharged from the Army in 1947.
I wish I could recall a more entertaining story but this all I have.
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1