Escape from St-Valery-en-Caux E-Book

Andrew Bradford

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 539

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

The dramatic story of Captain Bill Bradford, Adjutant of the 1st Battalion Black Watch, compiled using diaries and letters, coded messages and correspondence between his family and the War Office in their desperate effort to hear news of his safety. Escape from St-Valery-en-Caux tells of Captain Bradford's experiences between 1939 and 1941, during which time he was in the thick of the action in France until the surrender of the Highland Division at St-Valery-en-Caux in June 1940. While being marched into captivity Captain Bradford managed to escape once from the Germans and then seven further times from the Vichy French. His son, Andrew Bradford, details his journey to safety in Gibraltar, travelling through France, Spain and North Africa, including a night crossing of the Pyrenees and an astonishing 700-mile voyage in a 17ft sailing boat.

Leseprobe

To the lasting memory of all who fought with the 51st Highland Division in 1939–1940 and in North Africa and North-Western Europe in 1942–1945. So many gave their lives, more were injured, many lost their freedom for years and all gave us peace.

Also to those brave French men and women who helped escaping prisoners in France and North Africa.

Finally, to the memory of the most courageous and modest man I have ever known.

Bill Bradford’s medals:

From left: 1) DSO and Bar; 2) MBE (Military); 3) MC; 4) The 1939–1945 Star;5) The Africa Star with 8th Army clasp; 6) The Italy Star; 7) The France and Germany Star;8) The Defence Medal; 9) The 1939–45 War Medal, with Mention in Despatches; 10) The Coronation Medal, 1953

Cover illustrations: Detail from Bradford’s US Foreign Service ID; Envelope provided by the French to their British prisoners-of-war at Depot 602, Montferran-Saves; Lt-Col Bradford, 1944.

First published 2009

This paperback edition first published 2024

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Andrew Bradford, 2009, 2024

The right of Andrew Bradford to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 80399 744 5

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Contents

List of Maps

Principal Officers of the 1st BattalionThe Black Watch in June 1940

Foreword

Introduction

1      The Phoney War: October 1939–May 1940

2      One Day in the Saar: May 1940

3      From the Maginot Line to St-Valery-en-Caux:May–12 June 1940

4      A Prisoner of War: 12 June–19 June 1940

5      On the Home Front (1)

6      Alone: 19 June–25 June 1940

7      Travelling in Company: 25 June–2 July 1940

8      Alone Once More in Occupied France:2 July–10 July 1940

9      From Châteauroux to Spain: 10 July–4 August 1940

10    Spain to Marseilles: 4 August–November 1940

11    On the Home Front (2)

12    Marseilles and North Africa:November 1940–May 1941

13    On the Home Front (3)

14    From Algiers to Gibraltar: June 1941

Post Script: July 1941–June 1945

Appendix 1

Appendix 2

Notes and Sources

Glossary

List of Maps

The Maginot Line: May 1940

From the Maginot Line to Picardy: May 1940

Retreat from the Somme: 28 May–9 June 1940

Retreat from the Somme: 9–11 June 1940

Encirclement by 7th Panzer Division: 5–10 June 1940

The German Advance: 8–10 June 1940

St-Pierre-le-Viger: 11 June 1940

St-Valery-en-Caux: 12 June 1940

A Prisoner of War: 12–19 June 1940

Escape: 19–21 June 1940

Escape: 21–25 June 1940

Escape: 26–27 June 1940

Escape: 28–29 June 1940

Escape: 30 June–1 July 1940

Escape: 1–2 July 1940

Escape: 3–4 July 1940

Escape: 5–8 July 1940

Escape: 7–9 July 1940

Escape: 7–27 July 1940

Escape: 27–31 July 1940

Escape: 31 July–22 October 1940

Escape in the Pyrenees: 2–11 August 1940

Escape in the Mediterranean: 23 October 1940–21 June 1941

The Whole Route Home

Principal Officers of the 1st Battalion The Black Watch in June 1940

Commanding Officer

Lt-Col G.E.B. Honeyman (Honey) who had replaced Lt-Col C.G. Stephen (Steve) owing to sickness.

Second in Command

Maj. W.F. Dundas (Nogi)

Adjutant

Capt. B.C. Bradford (Bill)

Signal Officer

Lt R.N. Jardine-Paterson (Noel)

Intelligence Officer

Lt R.U.E. A. Sandford (Roger)

Lt J.R.P. Moon (John)

Quarter Master

Lt S.H. Allison (Stan)

OC A Company

Maj. N. Noble (Johnnie) [evacuated sick 7 June 1940] Capt. D.H. Walker (David)

OC B Company

Maj. G.H. Milne (Geoffrey)

OC C Company

Capt. N.A.M. Grant-Duff (Neill)

OC D Company

Capt. G.P. Campbell-Preston (Patrick or Pat)

OC HQ Company

Maj. O.G.H. Russell (Odo)

Carrier Platoon

Lt A.D.H. Irwin (Angus)

Anti-Tank Platoon

Lt A.D. Telfer-Smollett (Alastair)

The 51st Highland Division in May 1940 included three infantry brigades:

General Officer Commanding

Maj.-Gen. Victor Fortune, DSO

152 Brigade

Brig. M.W.V. Stewart DSO

Seaforth Highlanders

2nd Battalion The Seaforth Highlanders

4th Battalion The Seaforth Highlanders

4th Battalion The Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders

153 Brigade

Brig. G.T. Burney

Gordon Highlanders

4th Battalion The Black Watch

1st Battalion The Gordon Highlanders

5th Battalion The Gordon Highlanders

154 Brigade

Brig. A.C.L. Stanley Clarke

Royal Scots Fusiliers

1st Battalion The Black Watch

7th Battalion The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders

8th Battalion The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders

Note: During the campaign in the Somme in late May 1940, 1st Battalion Black Watch changed places with 4th Battalion Black Watch and remained in 153 Brigade until St-Valery-en-Caux.

Foreword

This story leaves me with irreconcilable regrets that are probably familiar to anyone who has lost a parent. Why on earth didn’t I take my father to France to retrace his steps in the 1980s? It would all have been so much easier. However, I must satisfy myself that at that time my father didn’t want to talk of his adventures. In tackling this work a decade after his death I have had the added challenge and entertainment of discovering parts of the story for myself.

This book contains my father’s full account from May 1940 until June 1941. Towards the end of his life he added a certain amount of background information. The only changes I have made to his writings are to expand some abbreviations to make the record more readable for those from a non-military background. I have completed the full names of villages where they are first mentioned. In most, but not all, instances I have been able to insert the name of individuals or places left blank at the time of writing for reasons of security.

In providing the background to his story I have drawn on numerous conversations with my father, mostly during the last few years of his life. Additional sources include a report submitted to Military Intelligence and one written by my grandfather Lt-Col E.A. Bradford in 1941, and archives at the Black Watch Museum. I have also taken material from a recorded interview between Saul David, my father and me in 1992 and from an interview with Air Chief Marshal Sir Lewis Hodges in 2005. I have included extracts from the diary of another escapee, Major Naps Brinckman, who was in North Africa with my father during 1941.

Frustratingly there is no surviving 1st Battalion Black Watch War Diary covering this period of their history. I suspect that my father was responsible for this, as he describes the burning of documents on 12 June 1940. I have drawn on a box of wartime papers collected by my grandparents which only came to light after my father’s death. This includes those of his letters which reached home, together with some of his parents’ correspondence. The box also contained my father’s original notebook and identity papers and food coupons from Algiers and Marseilles. All have suffered somewhat from the effects of seawater, the reason for which will become apparent.

The maps that I have prepared are intended to give a picture of events. From these and with reference to 1:200,000 maps the actual route of my father’s escape across France can easily be identified.

In 2002 my wife Nicky and I re-traced the route, by car, from St-Valery-en-Caux, to the point of escape near Billy-Berclau and thence to Nanteuil; we concluded that we were on the actual route for at least 95 per cent of the time. Owing to the fact that the route avoids nearly all large towns and major roads it led us through a largely unspoiled rural France.

In 2005, together with our daughter Louisa, we continued with the route from Nanteuil to Spain and thence to Monferran-Savès. I can think of no finer excuse for wandering about the less populated parts of France.

I have not attempted to cover, in any detail, events after July 1941. My father’s full correspondence exists and may yet shed an interesting light on the heroic deeds of the 51st Highland Division as they fought their way from El Alamein to final victory in Germany. That history is well documented elsewhere.

I am grateful for the assistance given by Piers Mackesy who kindly read an early draft of this work and made some useful suggestions. Also to my niece Lucy Johnston, Julia Chambers and my brother Robert for keeping me right with Latin, French and German translation respectively. Thanks also to Liam Harvey for his constructive comments and to Yvonne Taite for her patient work in typing all the historic correspondence. The encyclopaedic knowledge of Thomas Smyth, Archivist at the Black Watch Museum in Perth, deserves special mention. I am indebted also to Andrew Jardine-Paterson and Sir Theodore Brinckman who let me have access to their fathers’ records. To Ed Howker and John Leigh-Pemberton for encouraging me to publish, and David Hawson deserves a special mention. Finally I don’t think this work would have happened had it not been for the support of my dear wife Nicky.

Andrew Bradford

Introduction

Born on 15 October 1912, Berenger Colborne Bradford followed his father to Eton College. The family home was Empshott Lodge, Liss, Hampshire. Holidays away from home were spent mostly in the Isle of Man or in Scotland, where they often stayed with his aunt at Corsindae in Aberdeenshire. Little did he know that thirty years later marriage would bring him to Kincardine, which is less than a dozen miles from Corsindae. In a break to routine in 1927 the family went to Brittany for a holiday and, along with days spent on the beaches, visits were made to châteaux. The interest in old castles lasted a lifetime.

After leaving Eton, Bradford spent a few months during 1930 at Château de Nanteuil near Blois on the Loire. There Billy Gardnor-Beard and his French wife Anne-Marie, affectionately known as Souris, ran a finishing school for young British gentlemen. They improved their French and learned the manners and customs of the French gentry. As it happened this visit was to have considerable significance to both Bradford and Souris a decade later, but that part of the story must wait its turn.

Late in 1931 he went to the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, and on 26 September 1932 joined 2nd Battalion (Bn) The Black Watch. I am often asked why my father joined that illustrious regiment. Although he had Scottish blood in him he was essentially brought up as an Englishman in the heart of Hampshire. This was his explanation.

His uncle, Col Sir Evelyn Bradford Bt., Seaforth Highlanders, was killed while commanding 2nd Seaforth in the early days of the First World War and was revered by the family; this inspired young Bradford. Sir Evelyn was decapitated by a shell explosion at the Battle of Aisne on 14 September 1914. Bradford’s own father Lt-Col Edward Austen Bradford (1879–1958) of the King’s Royal Rifle Corps had fought in the Boer War and won a DSO in the First World War (1917).

Soldiering was clearly his destiny. Sir Evelyn’s son, Sir Edward Montagu Andrew Bradford, who was two years older than Bradford, was not accepted by the Seaforth Highlanders and instead commissioned into the Cameron Highlanders. Bradford felt that if he then joined the Seaforths it could lead to tension between them and instead sought a commission in the Black Watch. He was delighted to join them as he had always thought that they were the best regiment in the world. Cordiality was maintained with his cousin Edward and they met several times in France during 1939–40, one meeting including a curious wartime experience involving a small pack of beagles.

Another great influence was a second uncle, Capt. Ronnie Hardy of the Rifle Brigade. He was ‘The Beloved Captain’, described as such in the great pen-portrait on leadership written by Donald Hankey in his book ‘A Student in Arms’. Ronnie Hardy was killed in action in 1915 and his name is one of over 54,000 inscribed on the Menin Gate in Ypres, of those who have no known grave. Hankey’s essay is appended to this book.

Bradford’s initial posting was in England. While stationed at Colchester in the summer of 1933 he went for his first ever day’s dinghy sailing with fellow Black Watch subalterns Bernard Fergusson, Mick Baker-Baker and Michael Young. They may not have been great sailors but they had successful military careers. In the coming war these four young officers were to win five DSOs and two MCs between them; three were to retire as brigadiers and one as a lieutenant-colonel; and two were to become colonels of the Regiment. Though they were just ‘mucking about on the water’ this limited introduction to sailing clearly struck a chord, for in September 1934 while on leave in Dumfriesshire, Bradford spent a day boating with his sister Felicity on Loch Ken. He rigged the rowing boat with an improvised mast and laced a bed-sheet sail to even more makeshift spars to form a gaff rig. Judging from the photograph of this event it seems that the wind was light which, given the state of the rig, is perhaps just as well. Although he had been a wet-bob (rower) at Eton, these two days formed the sum total of Bradford’s pre-war sailing experience – but that limited experience proved handy some years later.

Shortly after that period of leave in Dumfriesshire, on 13 November 1934, a draft from the 2nd Black Watch embarked for India where the regiment’s 1st Battalion was stationed. The family was no stranger to India. Bradford’s grandfather Col Sir Edward Ridley Colborne Bradford, Bart., GCB, GCVO, KCSI (1836–1911) had served in the sub-continent for thirty years. First, as an officer in the Indian Army, he served with distinction in the Mutiny and elsewhere. He suffered the loss of an arm to a tiger in a hunting accident1 and, moving to the political service, rose in 1879 to become agent to the governor general for Rajputana and Central India. On leaving India Sir Edward survived the shipwreck of SS Tasmania, off Corsica. He and fellow passengers and crew spent the night fighting for survival on the stern of the storm-swept deck of the half-sunk ship before being rescued the following day. Thirty-four souls lost their lives and all Sir Edward’s possessions, including numerous splendid gifts from many Maharajahs, were lost. Sir Edward served for two years in the India Office, during which time he conducted Prince Albert Victor on a tour of India. In 1890 he was offered the Governorship of the Cape Colony which he declined because, according to family legend, he felt he couldn’t afford to live like an Earl, which honour came with the job. In June the same year he became chief commissioner of the London Metropolitan Police at a difficult time for the force; three commissioners having resigned in the previous two years. Sir Edward held the position for the next fourteen years until 1904. He was ADC to Queen Victoria and extra equerry to both King Edward VII and King George V.2

Sir Edward’s children were all raised in India and on reaching school age the surviving ones – for two small boys lie in graves out there – were left behind, after home leave, to be educated in England. There they were looked after by their uncle, Montagu Knight of Chawton Park in Hampshire. Montagu was the grandson of Jane Austen’s brother Edward, who had changed his name on being given, by his cousin Thomas Knight, the two estates of Chawton, and of Godmersham in Kent. The extended family was very close and became closer still, for Sir Edward and his wife Lizzie’s (née Knight) youngest son, Edward Austen Bradford, subsequently married his own first cousin Maggie Hardy. Maggie was the daughter of Lizzie’s sister Louisa. They had four children, Adela (Ad), Berenger (Ben), Cassandra (known as Felicity or Cit) and Diana (Di). One can speculate as to whether they were trying for the whole alphabet!

Confusion exists about my father’s name. Called Ben by his family, he was known, for no reason ever admitted to me, as Bill by everyone else. At no time was he ever called William. Towards the end of his life, when he had to go into hospital, I made the error of entering his given name in a registration form with the result that all the young nurses referred to him as Berenger which offended him; first because of the attempt at familiarity which grated with him and, secondly, he had almost never been called Berenger. Too late I realised that I should have entered ‘Brigadier’ as his Christian name on the form and everyone would have been content. One lives and learns.

During his time in India Sir Edward Bradford governed with considerable success. He had high respect for the Indian people who did not forget this. In consequence of his grandfather’s reputation Bradford, as a young officer now stationed in India, received invitations to stay and hunt with many of the princely Indian rulers. Being only a young subaltern and an impecunious one at that, he had little opportunity to accept. However, he did manage to get away occasionally.

Once, while entraining at Calcutta station when leaving on a hunting expedition, one of the bearers dropped a case full of annas, tiny coins of little worth. Apparently the bearers and other servants preferred to be paid in these rather than rupees as they received more coins for their work. The mayhem and a frantically scrabbling horde can easily be imagined. His chief bearer took the matter in hand and made everybody freeze at gunpoint and most, but not all, of the coins were recovered.

He paid a visit to Kolhapur where the stables held over four hundred horses and hunting for black buck consisted of a ‘stalk’ by stealthy approach in an open Rolls Royce and the ‘shot’ made by the release of a pair of cheetahs from a wagon behind. The cheetahs, having a limited range of around 300 yards, either killed or lay down and were collected by their handlers. A fresh pair was then brought forward and the process repeated many times during the day until, finally, the supply of cheetahs (fourteen pairs on this occasion) was exhausted. In these dreadful days of a ban in the UK on hunting with dogs, is this perhaps a legal option for the dedicated sportsman?

In 1937 Bradford was cross-posted to the 1st Bn Black Watch which moved to the Sudan before returning home in March 1938 when they made Dover their home station. There then ensued a period of frantic training, for by then the political situation was such that war was a very distinct threat to which the battalion was not ready to respond. Bradford’s CO, Lt-Col C.G. Stephen, described the situation:

The unit was under strength and like all units returning from abroad immediately discharged to the reserve a large number of men, and a party of over 120 men were sent on vocational training to complete the last 6 months of their service. There was a great shortage of officers owing to the fact that nine had been dropped on the way home at Suez to join the 2nd Bn, then stationed in Palestine.3

The aftermath of the First World War had left Britain ill-prepared for future military action. Initially this stemmed from the very strong antipathy towards war among a British public exhausted by the 1914–18 conflict. In trying to meet the cost of the First World War and the subsequent economic depression military budgets were cut, cut and cut again. By 1931 even the politicians accepted that this situation could no longer continue. Nevertheless, five more years were to pass before real action was taken.

Despite frantic preparations in the years since rearmament had been declared a priority in 1936, the British Army was still by 1939 ill-equipped for war.

Saul David reports a regular officer recalling the following:

I remember going on manoeuvres in 1938 in Suffolk. As soon as the date was announced, all the field officers, bar one, and most of senior captains, found that they were unavoidably unable to attend because of engagements elsewhere and all took their leave. I found myself, as a very junior lieutenant, commanding C Company, consisting of myself, the company sergeant major, the company quartermaster sergeant, one other sergeant, four corporals, and about ten jocks. The ridiculous sight which has always stuck in my mind, as it must have done in the minds of the locals, is of the company in column route-marching along a main road with me at the front, followed by the CSM and a platoon consisting of a sergeant and a jock carrying a flag, then a long gap filled by the length of a tape held at the other end by another jock. That was a platoon. As the new light machine gun, the Bren gun, had not arrived yet, we had wooden silhouettes and wooden rattles to simulate the sound of them being fired. It’s amazing to think that, only 15 months before hostilities broke out, a Regular battalion was in this state.4

Things weren’t quite as bad as that in the 1st Bn Black Watch but nevertheless a parade in August of 1938 showed a strength of only 279 men.5 Normal peacetime battalion strength was around 600, rising in war to nearer 1,000 men. Lt-Col Stephen wrote:

The equipment was quite pathetic; there were twenty-two Bren guns in the unit, no mortars, no anti-tank guns; anti-tank rifles were represented by gas piping stuck into a piece of wood and Bren-gun carriers by 15cwt trucks carrying blue flags. Despite it all a considerable amount of training took place, to the amusement of the German, Italian, Turkish and Egyptian Military Attachés who could not make out whether we were bluffing or in quite such a parlous condition as was apparent.

Bradford’s own comment was that by 1938 it seemed to him that war was inevitable, not because of the political situation, but because of the state of the equipment. He said that when German officers visited manoeuvres they genuinely thought that the British were trying to fool them with their wooden machine guns, and horse-drawn camp cookers with metal rimmed wheels.

Territorial battalions, such as those which originally made up the 51st Highland Division, were still using horse-drawn transport in 1938 and only received their first Bren-gun carriers in the summer of 1939. These were planned to form the basis for the infantry’s new role as a mobile force, but their late arrival gave little time to develop tactics or for training. It should also be noted that the Germans used horse-drawn transport in their standard infantry divisions throughout the coming war.6

The standard firearm for the infantry was the First World War .303 Short Lee-Enfield rifle – which fired single rounds from its magazine of ten bullets. The infantryman was also equipped with a long bayonet for this rifle and Mills hand grenades. Infantry platoons were equipped with 2in mortars for use both as weapons and smoke-projectors. There were two types of machine gun – the Vickers .303, also a First World War model, and the new and lighter Bren gun (also .303 calibre). Mortar platoons were equipped with 3in mortars while anti-tank platoons had both 25mm anti-tank guns and the Boys .55 anti-tank rifle. The British anti-tank guns were unable to deal with the more heavily armed German tanks.

Not only was the equipment scarce but also the ammunition for these weapons was in such short supply that it was often impossible for the infantry to train adequately with live firing of weapons.

A clear distinction must be made between the regular soldiers and territorials. The regular 1st Bn Black Watch was posted to France shortly after the outbreak of war and later in the spring of 1940 joined the largely territorial 51st Highland Division, which itself had only been mobilised on 1 September 1939.

On 1 January 1939 Bradford became Adjutant to the 1st Bn Black Watch.

In February 1939 the government formulated a policy to send a British Expeditionary Force to France in the event of the outbreak of war. It had been realised, belatedly, that it would become very difficult to protect British interests if France was in enemy hands. Lt-Col Stephen describes the mood:

The winter of 1938/9 and the spring of 1939 were spent in training on the new weapons as they gradually appeared, but with the appeasement of Munich, where Mr Chamberlain went on bended knee to Hitler, the powers that be gradually woke up to the fact that the only outcome was war, thus on the 15 June the unit received about 190 reservists, who left on 15 August after most valuable training. The same day a further 190 reservists arrived for training and these were still with the unit on general mobilisation. On 22 August the code word was received placing the battalion in a state of emergency. It was quite obvious that a state of war was imminent and, although no order to mobilise had yet been received, certain matters connected with mobilisation were gone into and the wheels started for that purpose. On 24 August all anti-aircraft posts were manned by L.M.Gs (light machine-gunners) and on the next day the battalion was put on 8 hours notice to move. There was now a period of 5 or 6 days of restless waiting and the unit went ahead with its mobilisation arrangements, and the famous document ‘The Short Sea Passage’ was extracted from the safe and very carefully read. The first news of reservists being called up appeared in the evening papers of 31 August but the next day at 2 a.m. this was confirmed by telegram and the draft conducting party was despatched to the depot by the train leaving Dover at 6.26 a.m..7

Early on 1 September 1939, fifty-six divisions crossed the border from Germany into Poland. By noon on 3 September, the British ultimatum to withdraw having been ignored, Britain had declared war. Some 6 hours later France too joined the alliance against Germany.

At the outbreak of war the 1st Bn Black Watch was stationed at the Castle Barracks, Dover. Orders for General Mobilisation were not received until 4 September. The pace of events quickened and comings and goings to and from the battalion intensified. Two drafts of reservists marched into the barracks: ‘a fine sight with the pipe band and they all wore the kilt with the kilt apron’ recorded Noel Jardine-Paterson who also noted changes among the officers: ‘Arrive David Campbell, Roger Sandford, John Moon, Brian Madden, John Graham, Pat Douglas and Timothy Bowes Lyon. They arrived on 7 September. To the Depot went Dopey, Robert Orr-Ewing, Ian Cochrane, John Glenorchy and Drummond Dunbar.’8

There was much to think about and apart from the preparations for war there was also the matter of personal belongings to consider for, with the battalion leaving Dover on active service, surplus goods and chattels had to be dealt with. Jardine-Paterson recorded his solution:

I had a great piece of luck here as John Cochran was suddenly ordered to Perth. I at once thought of my car and so asked him to drive it up complete with all my luggage, call in at home, collect a chauffeur who would go with him to Perth and bring the car back home. It was a great relief to thus be able to get off all my moveable kit and also my car. This plan was approved by the CO and worked perfectly. The remainder of my stuff I stored with Henry Hart in Dover. This consisted of all my furniture and a box of oddments.9

There were changes too in the Officers’ Mess, where Jardine-Paterson noted the arrival of females, members of the ATS, to take over the work of the mess staff. He recorded: ‘The two officers, “Furious” and “Glorious”, became great friends of “Uncle Charles”and managed under great difficulties to put up a very good show.’10

On Friday 8 September the battalion moved a few miles out of Dover to Waldeshare Park and remained there under canvas while they carried out further training. On 25 September they marched back to the Marine Station at Dover and entrained for Aldershot and took up residence in Salamanca Barracks. The following day they were inspected by their corps commander, Lt-Gen. Alan Brooke.

A day later the CO, Lt-Col C.G. Stephen, was ordered by GOC 4th Division (Maj.-Gen. D.G. Johnson VC, CB, DSO, MC) to meet him on the barrack square within the next ten minutes. There he was told, in confidence, that the King and Queen were arriving at Aldershot that afternoon and that Their Majesties would inspect the 1st Bn Black Watch in drill order with full pipes and drums and brass band. Her Majesty the Queen was colonel-in-chief of the Black Watch. This order caused some degree of activity as can be imagined. The surplus pipes, drums and brass had already been packed up for dispatch by train to the regimental depot for safe keeping and had to be retrieved at short notice. After the parade they had to be taken to France as, by then, the baggage train for Scotland had already left.11 In the early afternoon Their Majesties arrived and took the royal salute. The King said to the Queen: ‘This is your regiment, you inspect it.’ Jardine-Paterson noted that the parade ‘went off all right except for a slight muddle at the end, when instead of the expected “Order Arms” we got “Left Turn” a command which only the front two companies managed to hear and execute, the remainder doing a somewhat complicated “order arms, turn left, slope arms” all in one.’

On 27 September the depressing order was received to wear battledress, not the kilt, effective the following day. This was said to be on the grounds that the Regiment might be recognised. CSM MacGregor summed up the general mood: ‘but damn it, we want to be identified.’12 In truth, with the changes in warfare and mechanisation and with the dreadful experiences wearing the kilt in the trenches during the First World War, the kilt was probably a most impractical garment – but nevertheless its passing was sorely missed.13

On 5 October the 1st Bn Black Watch embarked for France.

***

My father’s diary and his later comments are printed in full column width; excerpts from his letters are indented; and my own comments and additions from other sources are in italics.

Mention is made of money on numerous occasions. In 1939 Bradford reported that the exchange rate was 175 Frs to the pound with Champagne costing 30–40 Frs and Vin Ordinaire 5 Frs a bottle.

1

The Phoney War: October 1939–May 1940

The 1st Bn The Black Watch had crossed to France with the 4th Division early in October 1939, and in due course reached its area near Lens, where it remained for 2 months.

10 October 1939

I am not allowed to say where I am which is a pity. We had a simply awful voyage – rougher than anything since the war began. We were all terribly ill – very miserable and not so happy when we landed.

We are in a very nice village here, in pretty country. Chris Melville and I are billeted with M. le Notaire, and are very comfortable. There is a beautiful Château just outside the village where Bde [Brigade] is, and we all live at the inn, where they feed us very well.

I had a bath yesterday in a little tub in the laundry. There are no baths at all in the village.

Bradford’s brief diary entry of the journey was economical in detail. His letter said a little more but in truth the journey had been frightful. In peacetime their ship, RMS Mona’s Queen, 2,756 tons, carried trippers to the Isle of Man. For the crossing from Southampton to Cherbourg, on the night of 5/6 October, she carried 1,940 soldiers in such a small space that a large number of men had to stand up all the rough night. Many were very sea-sick on the journey. Bradford managed to survive the crossing without succumbing but, the moment he set foot on land, was sick at the feet of his Commanding Officer to the great amusement of others.

On arrival in France there was little organisation or even provision of food. The battalion had brought, against orders, cookers, rations, blankets and ammunition and the first of these came into immediate use. Late in the evening on 6 October they entrained and made an overnight journey to Noyen-sur-Sarthe, near Le Mans. From there a 10-mile route-march took them to billets in Parcé-sur-Sarthe where the villagers were most welcoming. Col Stephen reported: ‘One of the officers went so far as to sing the Marseillaise at a small dinner party. This did not go quite with the bang intended as the inhabitants of Parcé were Royalists.’

To overcome strict censorship Bradford had arranged a simple method of communication with his father. The phrase ‘I am not allowed to say where I am’ was the sign that he was going to tell them exactly where he was! In the next two sentences, if one knows what to look for, can clearly be read ‘Parce near Le Mans’ [see underlined letters]. While not necessarily included in the extracts used in this book, several of Bradford’s letters contain similar hidden messages and there is no doubt his parents were able to trace his moves. Later on, this simple mechanism was to prove rather more useful.

On 9 October an advance party left by road for the Belgian border while the rest of the men, after a route-march in which all got soaked, entrained at Noyen and after a 23-hour journey arrived at Henin-Leitard and marched to billets throughout the town. Stephen noted: ‘It was difficult to believe that a town could exist with such a lack of sanitation.’14

Section of letter of 10 October 1939 containing a concealed message. I am not allowed to say where I am is the signal that the message is concealed. The dots under the ‘p’ of ‘simply’ and the ‘s’ of ‘so’ indicate the beginning and end of the message. The writing has been heavily inked with the exception of the relevant letters conveying the message – see the black dots over the letters in the lower version.

No preparations seemed to have been put in place for any military advance and, as Stephen recorded, ‘apart from a certain amount of excitement among the civilian population at the arrival of British troops, with the obvious hope of making a bit of money, all was peace and quiet.’

The French border with Belgium was largely undefended which was a considerable contrast to the heavily defended Maginot Line covering the Franco-German border to the east. On 15 October they began, in heavy rain, to prepare defensive positions on the canal to the north of Dourges. The first day’s work collapsed owing to lack of revetting material. Officers cut trees in the vicinity for that purpose but this was promptly made a court-martial offence by the French. One Guards officer bought a whole plantation and, when the French authorities tried to stop him, was able to see them off by advising that the wood was his and he could do with it what he liked. Stephen records, ‘such was the conduct of war in 1939’.15

Some requests for items from home were rather prescient:

16 October 1939

My French is improving slightly. Can you send me ‘Brush up your French’?

The battalion was put to work constructing defences over a distance of 3,000 yards on the canal-bank between Beauvin and La Bassée. This was a large task for one battalion, especially when they had to send one company daily to Attiches to construct an Anti-Tank obstacle around a château in which some of the few British tanks were parked. Stephen reported, ‘it is understood that the obstacle was so complete that some of the tanks never succeeded in getting out’. Clearly the command organisation was lacking in direction.

One new duty which the officers had to carry out was the censoring of letters. Noel Jardine-Paterson noted: ‘It was unbelievable how many letters the men wrote and usually 1½ to 2 hours a day had to be spent in doing this. It was not a nice job having to read the letters through and sign them at the bottom and on the envelope but we got used to it in time.’16

At home Bradford’s parents were battening down for the war. Clearly they’d hoarded some petrol and were having to revise their domestic arrangements as staff were called-up:

23 October 1939

Is your petrol lasting out well? I wonder if you have used the bottles yet. How are those two new maids doing?

While the battalion did not move during this time there seemed to be frequent changes in the billeting arrangements:

1 November 1939

We had to move our Bn HQ and HQ Company Officers’ Mess, as the owner of our previous house [a M. Sixe, Notaire] was demobbed, and wanted his house. We have got another house, which does quite well but isn’t half as nice or big. This is some way off, and so I have moved out of my banker’s to be nearer it, and now live with Pat C-P [Campbell-Preston] in a large and comfortable mansion belonging to a mine owner. It is modern, and our rooms are papered with dark, ornate paper, but they are huge rooms, with central heating, hot and cold water, and really well furnished. We have a bathroom and everything, and it is a great improvement, except that Madame loathes having us and shows it in every way she can. She looks a typical Victorian, tall, erect, and very severe. Monsieur is very nice, about 70, with a big beard. I think we shall soon thaw Madame, as she has quite a kind face.

But it was not to be:

16 November 1939

I am afraid I have made no impression on my hostess yet, and she still disregards us completely.

Although ‘at war’ the quest for social life amongst at least the younger officers did not cease altogether. Jardine-Paterson reported:

We didn’t dine in Mess much but usually went to Douai, the Café de Paris, or Lens, the Hotel du Monde, or to the Café du Centre. During the day we used to wear battledress but in the evening we changed into jacket and trews which was a good thing and much more comfortable. We had one regrettable incident when we went to Lens one night in trucks and a drunken Pole was run over on the way back. However the matter was hushed up and the only result was that trucks were not allowed to be taken out for pleasure parties in the evening. This brought a new character into our ken, Pompe Finnebre, as we called him. He was a red-faced boozy old man who drove a hearse by day and a taxi by night. We travelled many miles with him, he was a great character and never seemed to mind how late we were or how far we went but he would drive on the wrong side of the road most of the time and he had a habit of turning out all his lights when we reached maximum speed. However we never crashed and without him we should have been completely at a loss. Several times we met Jim Melville and Ted Snowball, also Ian Murray, Father Clark and many others and we had many good parties together. Besides this we used to dine in each others’ messes within the battalion quite a lot.

Bradford’s letters are obviously sketchy in their detail about military activities but it is clear that preparations for war are ongoing.

1 November 1939

I went and watched our first go at firing 2in mortars today, which went off quite well, though the men were very slow at it.

The 2in mortar was, in theory, issued to all infantry platoons but often there were too few and there was little or no ammunition available for training. This letter shows that front line regular infantry had, until November 1939, not fired these weapons in practice. It turned out that only smoke ammunition could be used as there was no HE [High Explosive] within the whole of the British Expeditionary Force [BEF].

A letter to his youngest sister Diana starts with a rebuke.

6 November 1939

You mustn’t address me as 2nd Lieut as I have been a Lieut since 1935! And shall be a captain soon I hope.

We get off to ------ near here, and have a really good dinner about once a week – champagne, oysters and everything you can think of. As quite good champagne is only about 4s 6d a bottle, it doesn’t cost you much to be out for the evening. In between we get filthy and wet digging trenches in water-logged ground.

A letter to his middle sister Felicity [Cit] mentions action for the first time. Cassandra Felicity Bradford, MBE, also served in the Second World War. She gained the rank of captain in the service of the Air Transport Auxiliary. Her main duties were the delivery of aircraft from the factories to the front-line airfields. As a schoolboy it was always quite something to have had an aunt that flew Spitfires and Hurricanes in the war. She later attained the rank of captain in 1947 in the service of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force [Volunteer Reserve] [Flying] Corps.

6 November 1939

Two aeroplanes were shot down near here the other day. We saw the shells of the AA guns bursting but none of them looked very near the aeroplanes which were miles up.

10 November 1939

I wish that bomb had got Hitler the other day. I think he must be getting fairly desperate, and they seem to think he is going to try and come through Holland. We have got another air-raid alarm in progress at the moment. I hope we see something!

The bomb, to which he refers, was Elser’s assassination attempt in Munich. Every 8 November Hitler went to Munich’s Burgerbraukeller to honour the old-time Nazis who participated in his failed uprising against the Weimar Republic. George Elser, a Swiss clock-maker, attempted to kill Hitler with a time-bomb set inside a wooden pillar which he had painstakingly hollowed out. Having made his speech Hitler left the building a little earlier than usual and eight minutes later the bomb exploded. It would undoubtedly have killed him had he still been on the podium.

30 November 1939

We have been doing a certain amount of training lately, such as digging and wiring by night, and occupying trenches for 24 hours, and then being relieved by other units. I suppose it is a good thing, though it has been so wet and the ground is so sodden, that I sometimes have me doots [sic]. It is very difficult for the men to get clean again with only one pair of boots and one suit [of battle-dress].

We are not doing anything special for St Andrew’s Day – they have, however, let us off our night-digging, and we are going to have a piper in our Mess, and a haggis I believe.

The Queen sent twenty-four pairs of socks out among our Comforts and I have got a pair, with the enclosed label on them. Don’t send me anything quite as thick as I can’t get into my Newmarket boots in them!

4 December 1939

When I next send a post-card, you will know that I have been under fire, and haven’t got time to write. I don’t think I shall be sending one for some time though! Yesterday Pat C-P, Noel J-P and I visited a lady about 12 miles from here who had the 9th Bn quartered in her farm before the Battle of ------, and again after it when there were only ninety-eight survivors out of 900. She was a great friend of the regiment’s – Mlle. Henriette. You will find all about her in Vol.3 of my regimental history which is written by Sir Arthur [Wauchope], by the way. [This was a reference to Mlle. Henriette Hennequet at the farm known as ‘The Black Watch Farm’ which had been held by 9th Black Watch before and after the Battle of Loos.]

There then followed a spell in the Saar, on attachment to the French 12th Brigade, to gain battle experience. The battalion arrived on 9 December and was billeted in a French cavalry barracks, Quartier des Vallières at Woippy just north of Metz, and in a nearby hospital. Initially the barracks were in a filthy condition which took 24 hours to clean. By now the weather had got much colder.

18 December 1939

Can you send me at once a bottle of Regesan Chilblain Liniment, which I gave Cit and she had in her bedroom. I found it very good last year, and as my feet are frozen all day, I am starting chilblains again – an awful bore. We have been having bitter weather during our march up with snow and frost. We slept the first night in a small village after 13 miles – I came with CO in advance by car – and it was freezing. I have never been colder. I slept in a little cottage with a midden a foot off my window and a pig in a barn which led off my room. I was in a built-in bed and they kindly gave me coarse linen sheets which were sopping wet.

The 1st Black Watch moved from Quartier des Vallières on 16 December for its spell of duty on the front line. This was in front of the Maginot Line.

On 18 December the CO went from the fortress area to meet the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain and General Gamelin. Chamberlain inspected a French battalion. Their soldiers were a sorry sight but had been issued with new great coats and steel helmets especially for the occasion.

The Bn was in the line from 16 December until Hogmanay, but experienced little more than some odd shelling and active patrolling. It was bitterly cold and some men suffered from frost-bite. We were not allowed sufficient anti-freeze for the Motor Transport, and had to keep fires going under vehicles which were required to be at instant readiness. [It was reportedly the most severe winter that anyone could remember since the turn of the century.]

Boxing Day 1939

I have been in hospital since Friday evening with a sort of flu, which three officers have got. David Campbell, Nigel Noble and self. I felt rotten to begin with and worse with the tablets they gave me, which made me so sick that they knocked them off and now I have got better. There are no facilities of any sort here, and you get a bit of cold bacon & bread & margarine which has been carried 200 yards for a meal when you are feeling awful. No one did anything for us, but somehow we’ve recovered! It was a blessing us three being together. It has been a really white Christmas here & the country looks lovely with every twig covered in snow or frost. I sent the Post Card for the reason I told you.

Hogmanay 1939

It is bitterly cold here, and we have had 34°[F] of frost, which is frightful when most of the men are in positions day and night. I live in a house with some stoves and we keep fairly warm. Even so the passage in the house was like an ice slide from drips from the pump, which is in the middle of the house. Most of our trucks were frozen solid in spite of anti-freeze mixture, but not many have cracked yet. We now run the engines for 15 mins every hour, which seems an awful waste of petrol. We have to do this by day and night.

I shall be telling Mummie some interesting news about what I have been doing in about 5 days’ time, but cannot say much at present. We hope to celebrate a somewhat belated New Year’s Day in due course as we have been unable to have any festivities where we are. I hope we shall soon settle down ‘into winter quarters’ like Hannibal, as I’m sure it would be better than fighting in this weather.

There were no cases of frost-bite in the battalion despite the intense cold. The French battalion immediately to the right in the line had 156 cases in the space of 5 days.

The battalion was relieved by the 1st Norfolk Regiment on 31 December and after one night in Metz entrained for Tourcoing, north of Lille. Jardine-Paterson takes up the story:

The Bn arrived by train on 3 January to find the Advance Party had done its stuff more or less. Companies all had billets allotted to which they marched and started settling in. HQ Coy was in the buildings of a socialist organisation which was quite a good billet. There were no officers’ messes definitely fixed so we all messed together the first day in the station restaurant.

The officers’ billets were all fixed but I found that I had been given a room attached to a Catholic Church, a sort of priest’s flat. It wasn’t a bad room but the entrance to it was by way of the side door of the church and somehow I didn’t feel it was quite suitable for me or for Chris [Melville] who was to be in the next door flat. So we decided to refuse the offer. We saw the priest in charge and said the officers had not arrived and so the accommodation would not be wanted. Then we set off to find new billets. I found David [Campbell] had two beds in his room so went in with him until something else should turn up. He was in a house just along the street from Bn HQ. A largish French family was in residence, Mr & Mrs, some daughters and a nurse. There was running water in the room we had but the basin had a great hole in it. On the whole we felt it wasn’t too good a billet and decided to look for another the next day. Next day was spent in settling in and finding out where two companies were and what was going to be necessary in the way of telephones. Also our billets question had to be settled. I set off and spent some time trying to find a place. Eventually I came to No 73 Rue National which was a large well-furnished house. Here I found two old women, housekeeper and cook to a French couple who were living in Paris. They said that a nephew of the owner lived in Tourcoing and that if I saw him matters could probably be arranged. So I went off to his office, saw him, and fixed that David and I would live in his uncle’s house with our servants. We had a largish room each on the first floor with a bathroom and geyser that worked. We also arranged that the central heating should be started up for which we agreed to pay a bit. Our servants lived upstairs in a room together – on the whole it was a first class set-up and not too near Bn HQ. A feature which struck us was that between our bedroom doors on the landing there was a fair-sized altar – not quite the usual form. We moved in that day and having got a latch-key each which meant that we could come and go as we pleased we set up house. Here we stayed the whole time were at Tourcoing. We were very warm and comfortable, the two old servants were very pleasant if somewhat retiring and seemed quite happy to have us living with them.

While on the subject of billets mention must be made of the house in which Bill Bradford and Pat C-P lived. It was a longish way from Bn HQ but was a truly magnificent place. The owner, a woman, lived there but Pat and Bill had a self-contained flat on the second floor consisting of a hall, two bedrooms, and a splendid bathroom. We saw over the rest of the house during our stay and it was all extremely pleasant if somewhat eccentric especially Madame’s bedroom. In fact as a billet no one could ask for better.

Bradford described his rather un-macho billet in a letter home:

5 January

Pat and I are in a billet together. It is a really luxurious one. We each have a lovely bedroom – mine has two lovely pink beds with pink chintz covers and curtains. In between our bedrooms and connecting with both is a bathroom in black marble with a white bath and 2 basins.

Jardine-Paterson continues:

Bn HQ Officers’ Mess was in another large but not very pleasant house about two houses away from Bn HQ, here Col Steve was installed. We fed fairly well but I wasn’t often in during the evening. Roger Sandford was usually about though and had a large supply of fondants and marons glacées always at hand! Companies had Coy [Company] Messes, B Coy being well placed in a large house standing in its own grounds. Altogether billets for the officers were exceptionally good and by the time the men had fixed things up they were very well off too. We had cold frosty weather most of the time and so were unable to dig which seemed to be the main job allotted to us. However positions were reconnoitred and Coys were all set for the thaw to come.

This was undoubtedly the most pleasant time we spent in France although by no stretch of imagination could it be said to have been good training for the fighting which we all supposed would happen in the not far distant future. Still it was a case of ‘make hay while the sun shines’ and everyone found plenty to do in one way or another. We worked until tea-time and then after tea changed into trews, and had a bath and either had dinner in mess or, more usually, went out and had a party in Lille or some other place.17

5 January 1940

At last I am allowed to tell you what I have been doing. We were up in front of the Maginot Line for over 2 weeks – 10 days in second line and five in the front line, where we were about 1,000 yards from the Germans. They patrol right through to the second line, and we patrol a bit too. You could see them wandering about, or digging, and also their O.Ps [Observation Posts] but no one seemed to do much about it. Occasionally we shelled each other, but no shells must land near villages by mutual agreement. Bn HQ and Coy HQs are all in deserted villages, which have been left with furniture but fairly well looted by the French. The men were bitterly cold, as most of them were actually in positions. The maximum frost was 36°F [-20°C], which is very severe. People at the different HQs were fairly comfortable as they had stoves and wood was plentiful. I had, in B.O.R. [Battalion Operations Room] a very old kitchen range, which only had an oven with two doors, and rings at the bottom which could be taken away to boil things on. Underneath you slid in logs of wood a yard long. With the door open it gave out a tremendous heat. Bdes are being sent to the line in turn for training and propaganda.

Meanwhile the 51st Highland Division had landed in France towards the end of January 1940 and by the end of March had taken over, from the 21st French Division, the line from Mailleul to Armentières.

On arrival in France the 51st Highland Division was posted to the same general area as the 1st Bn Black Watch. Lille had become more crowded and as Jardine-Paterson reported, ‘every other officer seemed to be wearing a kilt or trews. With the arrival of all these people things became rather crowded and prices soared.’ He also went on to observe that ‘British Officers in a crowd in a foreign country are not very pleasant. It is odd how any nation, en masse, seems rather unattractive while individually, more often than not, they are very charming.’18

The cold weather which had continued throughout January gave way to warmer conditions in February and the digging of defences resumed in earnest.

Having been in France since the previous October a short spell of leave was in prospect.

9 February 1940

I think I shall be arriving home on 19 February: Isn’t it lovely! I have just got a new suit of battle-dress as my original one has absolutely worn out. The cloth, which they’re made of, is not very good.

Early in 1939 Britain’s military and political planners had realised that, in order to defend Britain, it would be necessary to have an outer defensive line on French soil and when, on 1 September 1939, the 51st Highland Division was called-up, training commenced to serve that purpose. The 51st was, at this stage, entirely a territorial division comprised of battalions from all five Highland Infantry Regiments. Initially, equipment and even uniform was in very short supply, but gradually this situation improved and by January 1940 the Highland Division arrived at Le Havre to reinforce the BEF which, by the end of January, numbered in excess of 220,000 men. In the first instance the 51st was stationed in the rear.

By the end of February General Gort, Commander-in-Chief of the BEF, wished to strengthen the 51st Highland Division through the introduction of professional soldiers. Consequently, among other changes, one of the original territorial battalions in each of the three Infantry Brigades was replaced by their regiment’s regular battalions. So it was that the 1st Bn Black Watch replaced the 6th Black Watch and joined the 51st Highland Division’s 154 Brigade. At the same time the 2nd Seaforth Highlanders replaced the 6th Seaforth in 152 Brigade; and the 1st Gordon Highlanders replaced the 6th Gordons in 153 Brigade. In addition the regular 17th and 23rd Field Regiments, Royal Artillery, replaced the 76th and 77th and the 238th Field Company, Royal Engineers was replaced by the regular 26th Field Company. Having been stationed in France since the previous autumn, the 1st Black Watch, as the preceding pages recount, had already spent some weeks on the front in the Saar over Christmas, being attached to a French Division.

Since the declaration of war there had been a stand-off at the front. This situation continued through the spring of 1940 with only active patrolling being carried out by both sides. There were occasional armed engagements mostly between patrolling groups.

9 March 1940

Last Monday we changed over with the 6th Bn and are now in Victor’s [Maj.-Gen. Victor Fortune’s] Division, which is rather fun. We had a 17-mile route march but it was a nice bright day for marching. Both Bns halted together for dinners [at the Place de la Citadelle, Lille]. The Royal Fusiliers gave us a farewell cocktail party, and the P.W.V.’s [Prince of Wales’ Volunteers] sent their band to march us off, and one of the Argyll Bns sent their Pipes and Drums to march us in the last two miles. We are in a dirty little village and haven’t got at all good billets, but even so I am glad we have changed over. It is great fun having all our own kith and kin round us. If only we were all in the kilt, what a fine show we would make.

Some days later Bradford’s first cousin Capt. Sir Edward Montagu Andrew Bradford, Cameron Highlanders, who had been stationed nearby, lent him a small pack of beagles. This unlikely interlude indicates that a long stand-off was thought to be a possibility. Bradford, like so many British officers, was clearly expecting a war much like that fought in Europe in 1914–18. At this stage they were not anticipating a highly mobile conflict.

16 March 1940

Isn’t it miser [sic