David Webster - Aldbourne`s Awakening

'•
<>
'" v I
- --
v:e bs t.er
grandmother
etc.
TV^-C/tau^
3*.
L,v^\ik2JL[i%a^bojL<^ J
Most Americans vho v i s i t England f a l l in love
with i t s green f i e l d s and leafy l a n e s , "They
find i t s quiet ^IMHHJJJ.I villages especially
b e a u t i f u l . I t is doubtful, however, i f any
of these temporary v i s i t o r s get to know the r-~­
English countryside as intimately as did the
s o l d i e r s who lived there in the war y e a r s .
Cast a look back now to that dim and halfforgotten era as one of those men fondly
r e c a l l s the downland village where h i s unit
was b i l l e t e d in 19U3 and 191U;, when England
was an embattled island ana a l l the
t o u r i s t s wore khaki.
we'D'stfer
grandmother etc.
"*
­
ALDBOURNE'S AWAKENING
A thousand paratroopers waiting for I) Day would .have woken up a Tar
larger place than Aldbourne —
weekend —
they di'd a fair job on London every
but when they burst on this tiny English village of 900 people,
the awakening was anything but dilatory. One-day Aldbourne wes asleep -with­
her cows and her memories, the next she vas tingling with six companies of
wild young Yankees given to jumping from airplanes in flight.
Shy, unsophisticated country people became the landlords of foul­
mouthed, conniving Army cooks* One company's headquarters vas set up in
!
i
the basement of the most centrally located p u b , while another's -men vere
j
billeted in sumptuous box stalls designed .for thoroughbred race horses* The
officers commandeered the Old Rectory, the best p u b , sad the prettiest
Georgian house in town, while G.I.. trucks parked bumper-to-bumper on the
soft village green. Communications' wires were, strung-like drunken spiders'
webs from one end of town to the other; 600 m e n vere put in huts and
barracks on a meadow that could well have supported at least two cows; the
village soccer field became a combination gridiron-ball diamond-parade
ground^ ftrunks fell in the cowpondj and V.D. movies were shown in the
Memorial Hall. It was a little like waking a man up with the bell on
Big 3en.
The village reacted at first with shock end no little resentment and
then, as the acquaintance deepened, developed a warm friendliness and
sympathetic understanding that moved a local woman to write 10 years later
that "many inhabitants of this village have both sad and gay memories of
those anxious yet happy days when vc met American youth ana, shall we say,
loved them.
webster
grandmother e t c .
.
. r
As with t h e B r i t i s h , t h e r e were good and bad, and I find t h a t decent people
inset decent people and bad meet bad".
We arrived i n Aldboume i n a blacked-out convoy one frosty September night
i n 1943 • T3hen we awoke t h e next morning, we saw t h e England of nursery r i S e and
< .
chLldrens 1 s t o r y . F a i r y - t a l e cottages with thatched roofs and rose vines on
t r e l l i s e s stood a l l around u s . Vast horses shaking long manes clouded down
winding, narrow l a n e s . A soft v i l l a g e green with a weathered stone cross spread
l i k e a sloping carpet before an old grey church with a Norman door, a Perpendicular
•hrr.TP.-», @ g g g g B 3 g g g ^ and a melodious clock t h a t sweetly chimed the quarter
hours. There were, i f I remember c o r r e c t l y , four bakers i n tovm* while five pubs^P
bade us welcome t o the land of l&ld and
B i t t e r . There was also a t e a shot) and a bus stop* a -town h a l l and a cow pondj
two butcher s t a l l s t h a t so3xi'lraSoa.us~and f i s h and an occasional fowl, one red
phone booth* and a post office t h a t handled telegrams. London, Tre were t o l d ,
was 80 miles due east*
Aldbourne i s i n Y3.ltshire County near t h e Berkshire border. I t l i e s between
the high, grassy plateau of the lambourne Downs and the r o l l i n g , chalky
l&rlborough Downs 4 9 D about 20 miles north-northeast of € 5 S £ E B B Stonehenge.
VTf
—
Seven roads come together i n @j» center. gSBBHB None of them are straight or wide,
and no two lead t o t h e same p l a c e . One goes t o the r a i l r o a d center o^ Swirdon
another t o the o H inns a t fiungerf ord; O b t h i r d strays off overhill t o Ogbume
S t . Seorge and the fourth t o the wizard 2ferlin»s tomb under the Castle Stound a t
liarlborough. The f i f t h leads up a long, bare h i l l t o 3aydon, highest v i l l a g e i n
Wiltshire County and t h e place where Sir Isaac ivewton was said t o have t e s t e d
gravity .with
a
dropped appl*. Th e sixth meanders gently up and down t o Hamsbury,
where other units of the 101st Airborne Division were quartered, and t h e seventh,
which i n our day was trod only by t h e ' i n i t i a t e d , ducks quietly out of town through
golden grain f i e l d s and chalk h i l l s bleating with sheep t o an ancient pub called
the Shepherd's Rest.
vebster
24#.ndrcother etc*
%
\
The surrounding countryside is made for farming and field problems, lane
the conflict between the two was happily resolved by ordering us to be
careful of crops and not dig slit trenches or foxholes. The farmers in this
nild, green region raise sheep, pigs, wheat, turnips, barley, and swedes,,^
which we called rutabagas and pulled up and ate surreptitiously on cross­
country marches* Most of the hills are terraced by the footsteps of
generations of cows slowly winding their way to the top*
This is a land with a long past and a secure and predictable future.
Although King John once hunted deer 800 years ago in Aldbourne Chase,along
the Swindon road, no great person was ever born in town nor any famous
battles fought nearby, Aldbourne's reputation rests, instead, on simpler
things : A sometime name for straw and willow-plaiting and s bell foundry
that flourished from l6ij.2 to 1.626 and supplied most of the chines in
Wiltshire.* A local legend claims that its name derives from a fire in the
Middle Ages that burned ail but the church tower to the ground (All-3urned,
hence Aldbourne, or so the townspeople say), but the name probably comes
from the Saxon Ealdha, meaning place., and Bourne, a river, A number of
streams came together at the site, and the remaining village springs are
undoubtedly relics of these*
The surrounding area is rich in history and the relics of history, for
both Wiltshire and Berkshire were some of the earliest parts of England
settled by human beings.
Unable to fell with his primitive implements the dark forests that
covered prehistoric England, Stone-Age man camped on the grassy, chalk downs
B.Til ridges of these western counties, built his Avebury and Stonehenge;-*"
circle* of gigantic stone monoliths, dug his long barrows to bury his fdead,
*
*
tilled the light surface soil with his mattocks, followed the wind-swept
f.
ridjei on his travels to other tribes. One of these skyline tracks, thfe
Ridge Vay, crosses the Swindon road and Adlbourne Chase near the gra sy
webster
crandmother etc.
ruins of Liddington castle, high above the Xarlborough Downs, and ihen ': f
continues past the Shepherd's Rest to Alfred's Castle and the 2,900-year- I
old , J37lj.-f oot Celtic "White Horse near Uff ington, where a Saxon army under •
Alfred and Sthered defeated a Danish host advancing from "Heai ing and where:
we often camped on field problems*
In addition to mementoes like this, the slopes of the downs near
Aldbourne ere dotted with short dykes and various harrows, the high ground
encircled by earthen walla end deep ditches, best seen from the air, that
bear such names as Alfred's Castle ana Hembury Castle. One comes upon them;
unexpectedly, and with great pleasure on walks in the countryside*
These downs, an Englishman once'noted, not only served agricultural -ant
defensive purposes, they were also "camps and battle-grounds and burying
places. They were also natural highways. In districts along the lines of
the Downs it was a common tradition that, on quiet nights, could still be
heard the tramp of armed hosts and the creak of their .heavy .chariots as
they passed from camp to camp along the ancient tracks"*.
Ihe Romans moved into Wiltshire, defying the dense woods that had kept
their more primitive and superstitious predecessors on the ridges, and buil
roods on the ancient tracks and founded cities and villages at river
crossings and other good trading and defensive sites. Many of their roads
are still in use, others grassy tracks on the sides of hills, as straight
and true as when thej were laid, ten centuries ago. One runs through
Baydon on the east, another through Ogburne St. George on the west* A
tesselated pavement from a rich Roman's villa, built more than a thousand
years ago," was uncovered in the 18th Century in the park behind our
regir.ental headquarters at Littlecote si unfortunately destroyed.
After the Romans left, Uiltshire and the rest of England suffered from
waves of barbarian Picts, Scots, Jutes, Saxons, and Danes. She ITorman
vrhster
grandmother etc*
<*f3.
conquest stabilized the area, end the countryside then settled into a long]
V
bucolic peace disturbed only slightly by the Wars of the Roses and tne
Civil War, when Wiltshire was Boundhead, Marlborough was the first city
captured by either side, and the- .­.
owner of Little cote manor house
led a regiment for Oliver Cromwell*
Because of its great number of sheep, the county became in time
the center of the English cloth trs3e.lThis reached its peak in the
16th century and then gradually declined. l<ow referred to as -Londonf.s
dairy, Wiltshire is also famous for its fine bacon. Its inhabitants
are sometimes called Moon takers, from the name given smugglers .who
once hid whiskey in the ponds and raked it out at night* When -the
excise men asked why they were raking at night, the; used to say that
they were trying to rake the moon's reflection off the face of the
pond.
Through it all our village slept, walking its cattle to the
pond where the Swindon-3sydon-Hungerford roads meet, drinking its
ale in the five old pubs, sending its sons to distant wars of
Empire, burying its dead in the rich-green churchyard*
In we came, a thousand of us from the 1st and 2nd Battalions
of the 101st Airborne Division's 506th Parachute-Infantry
Regiment, and shook Aldbourne out of her sleep. T^e awakening was
sudden and the results, to say the least, were mixed. Take the
case of the Old Rectory.
m
\
vebster
grandmother e t c .
Sot only the largest but also one of the lovelyt homes in
town, the Old "Rectory stood off from the main intersection behind
a high, mossy wall and a circular gravel drive. It was distinctly
Georgian and probably built in the -miidle of the 18th Century,
but what I remember most about it was the large, well-tended
garden in the rear. This was traversed by a shortcut from a back
road in the village to the 2nd Battalion encampment. The shortcut
was strewn with wet leaves and shaded by greet, green -trees, and
it passed temptingly close to patches of berries and -tomatoes
thst I for one could not resist.
Sometimes when I was sauntering at ong this "typical English
gsrden path, I would catch sight of a pair of tweedy old ladies
of Dowager Queen Mary dress and vintage fluttering nervously in
the background near a greenhouse as they watched my progress
vrith hurt aid resentful eyes* They were apparently the owners of
the Rectory, and I wanted to go over to them and apologize for
the way the officers had muddied the floors, broken the windows,
scratched the woodwork, and dirtied the walls like children, but
then, who was I to throw rocks, picking their blackberries and
tomatoes ? And besides, I rationalized, they'll be alive when
the vrar is over, whereas many of us will be dead or maimed.
They'll get their house back in a couple of years, restored
by Anerican -dollars*
H
I
Webster
'* , / * • "
crandmother e t c .
And so I continued down the gravel path, plucking a mouthful of blackberries
whenever I had a chance. I t was a p i t y , though, the way t h e officers t r e a t e d
that place.
-hey "were core gentle -with t h e Blue Boar, perhaps because i t was a going
concern whose owner l i v e d on the precises and was a nan of s p i r i t . No country
squire hej t h e Blue Boar was a pub, t h e cosiest i n torsn. I t faced west-on t h e
-
i
v i l l a g e green about a hundred yards south of the church and was a r a t h e r p l a i n ,
whitewashed, two-story Georgian house of fieldstone with a s l a t e roof and a
chimney a t each end. I t doubled as a t e a room a f t e r hours and also rented u p s t a i r s 1
rooms t o wayfarers. l i k e a l l *the other pubs i n town, t h e Blue 3oar had a short*
oaken serving bar and several small, panelled rooms with coal grates and board
t a b l e s around which a congenial group of men could drink i n masculine comfort..
The Blue Boar was, i n f a c t , t h e warmest and most -tastefully-decorated pub i n
Aldbourne*
But a l a s , none of us could drink t h e r e unless our officers were out of "town
on pass or f i e l d problems, for t h e y , with t h e a r b i t r a r i n e s s t h a t made so many
people hate t h e Army , had placed i t off-limits t o a l l t h e enlisted men stationed
i n Aldbourne
i
Jf-S- !
against t h e v i o l e n t objections of t h e owner, 2fr* Bady, 1*10 said
t h a t such a thing was unheard-of i n t h e B r i t i s h army. Ignoring him, t h e officers
told us i n no uncertain terms t h a t t h i s was t h e i r club and t h a t none of us could
drink t h e r e . They were powerless, however, t o keepfenliijted men from other u n i t s ,
because the order had no o f f i c i a l sanction or backing.!
This added aggravation t o i n s u l t and caused us t o regard t h e imposition as a
challenge and t o t r y t o sngqk i n whenever we could — via the back doo r when
Jhc p r e n s e s were occupiea^T^there was a chance of discovery and the front door
whenever t h e coast was c l e a r , J-r. Dady always welcomed us h e a r t i l y — I believe
that he had been an enlisted nan i n the other war — and always managed t o save
webster
4^
' *.
granojiiother e t c .
us a beer or a milk s t o u t / l a f f i B H B g S T t h a t t h e officers got t h e i r own liquor
r a t i o n and had no iieed t o drink up a l l the c i v i l i a n beer r a t i o n t o o . A friend
and I , wounded i n Holland and evacuated t o England, duckeddout of a h o s p i t a l
.
"
50 or 60 miles away a f t e r the o u t f i t had l e f t for good, hitchhiked t o Aldbourne,
I
and spent a pleasant afternoon i n t h e Blue Boar, discussing the officers and
the Regiment with Mr* and Krs. Dady. l£r. Dady i s dead now, but he i s not forgotten.
The o f f i c e r s ' mess was located i n another c i v i l i a n establishment, an old brick
house 50 yards south of t h e Blue 3oar. Apparently b u i l t several centuries ago far
a hard-riding, p o r t - s w i l l i n g country squire, t h e house had a great deal of
atmosphere, even "when stripped down for Army u s e . I t s e x t e r i o r was softened by
twining i v y , i t s f l o o r boards wide and pegged i n . ^he s t a i r s creaked woefully, and
handmade panes of glass softened t o a dusty haze t h e t h i n English sunlight t h a t
cane through the windows. Though c l e a n * i n s i d e , the house's exterior was s a d l y
neglected, with t h e r e s u l t -that corn s t a l k s grew i n a r e f u s e p i t i n t h e r e a r and IdGNft­
<gfWS ccvgftgfiTffeHCHMY E.QSC c-ftM>eft ,
Several young lieutenants slept i n
four bare bedrooms u p s t a i r s , but the house' s main function was t o serve as t h e
dining room* far a l l the officers ±n -town.
Their food was prepared i n a wonderful Old "Eorld kitchen with a huge black
fireplace with pothooks and cranes embedded i n the b r i c k s . The kitchen floor was
of rough rod b r i c k , ' uneven t o walk on but e a s i l y cleaned with soap, -water, and
a s t i f f scrub brush. Since t h e i r t a l e n t s would have been wasted elsewhere
the
best cooks i n the 2nd Battalion were gathered here t o prepare the best food. To
see them on t h e i r wooden s t o o l s , smoking p i p e s , peeling potatoes, and gossiping
lewdly about t h e i r masters was l i k e glimpsing an old -Siglish print of country l i f e V
G m S l B S B ^ M I f e ^ called "In the Squire's Kitchen".
X.?.. i n t h e o f f i c e r s ' mess was both a pleasure and a privilege — as well as a
source of l o o t . The atmosphere was more relaxed than i n our kitchens, where most of
the fights i n the o u t f i t took place, the cooks were l e s s objectionable than ours,
and the food was far superior. Ifest of a l l , we liked t h e easy access t o fresh b u t t e r ,
tfl. f
f r u i t c o c k t a i l , and s l i c e d pineapple stored i n t h e cool stone cellar below t h e
';
kitchen. There was a f i s t - s i z e d hole i n t h e c e l l a r ' s wirrtow screen, and when none
of the cooks were watching, we would s l i p a can or to through i t into the long
_ „ . «--L-^-;e -.r-.*rE i t regained hidden u n t i l Quitting t i n e , Many a squad feast
!
c-.-rp cut. o.' c*« o f f i c e r s 1 mess*
I
i
"he rri-.'-coEteu jerrbleisan who had b u i l t the house had faced i t nortli and
p.,t.sifted himself fi'oc. Ihs Tillage hinds Trlth a seven-foot stone Tall., nor
•_•:• :*.L'..
a^a 30ss;"t T*".*o t a l l gateposts guarded t h e entrance t o his property* The
iron pates were t i e d
tfB»3uring
our stay and a guard posted by than af t o r dark "to
^ a i g y T K e p.raa. whicai also held t h e stable b i l l e t s and our own kitchen and mess
h a l V gaBBfcMtffiHEHWtv This guard p o s t -was a very lonely place at night*
3ren new, I shudder when 1 "recall t h e -terribly slow hours spent t h e r e , "two a t
a time, now leaning against t h e w a l l , now runring i n place, now slapping gloved
hands together t o keep warm. The northwest wind would howl down at us from a dark
and creaking grove of beech t r e e s near the
with a ^
G
i a n t ' s Grave, behind the church, knifing
English cold through r a i n c o a t , overcoat, f i e l d jacket, O.D.s, and woolen
underwear. There would be scudding night clouds, as ominous as those we were t o see
i n Normandy the night before D Day, and t e r r i f i c bursts of winter rain would make
us t u r n our r i f l e s muzzle-down.' Cursing t h e day t h a t we had joined the Army, we would
• r e t r e a t Tdth almost whimpering impatience t o the meager s h e l t e r of one of the
gateposts. The v i l l a g e green would be dead, blacked-out, deserted. Cne or two
G.I.s night pass us with a b r i e f word or wisecrack, and maybe we would come t o
attention for a couple of officers leaving a p a r t y . Tie would watch the golden,
unhurried hands move l e i s u r e l y across the black face of the church clock, count the
slirjtes with mounting impatience, l i s t e n for our hour t o s t r i k e , f i n a l l y the quick
footsteps of t h e ' r e l i e f would come up t h e lane from the Hungerford road. Tie would pass
on our s p e c i a l orders -
salute a l l officers and allow no c i v i l i a n s through the gate -
hurry back t o camp, and go t o sleep for four hours with our clothes on. The gate
guard was a night-time post only.
:
vrebster
n~
rrsndmother etc*
No civilians *ere allowed in because the entire area enclosed by the Trail
belonged to us. This incited not only the officers' mess but a cobblestone
three or four little hubs on a hill si dp
courtyard t h a t fronted i t ;
stables
behind t h a t held our own kitchen and mess h a l l s , and ^ e w
t h a t bordered the courtyard*
Housed under one roof i n t h e shape-of iwo contiguous •
•»D»8, the s t a b l e s
-were a c t u a l l y box s t a l l s about t e n feet square. 3ach s t a l l had a sturdy white
Dutch door with long, black tSflSS- hinges and a t i n y xfaite Tondcw that only opened
half \ray« Exterior of t h e s t a b l e s was dark brorm. There were l i t t l e Traite cupolas
for v e n t i l a t i o n and decoration every 15 -feet or 50 along the r i d g e of t h e .roof*
I l i v e d i n many places i n t h e Army — i n ZB-and-S ^boxcars, i n t e n t s and Tuooden
barracks, i n barns, d i t c h e s , holes, h o t e l s , h o s p i t a l s , c e l l a r s , I&ssen huts^
shattered houses, and German c h a l e t s , schools, offices, and apartments — i u t
none were quite as enjoyable as those bcx s t a l l s i n Aldbourne. Perhaps t h i s Ttas "
because I had a craving for privacy t h a t t h e y alone s a t i s f i e d , .or perhaps i t -was
Freudian : ^he love of a small, -rmxa dark place i n which t o c u r l up and hide* 1
don T t know. Whatever the subconscious reason, i f any, t h e r e were many sore tangible
things t o recommend the s t a b l e s t o soldiers* Tfoere e l s e , may I ask, could one share
the r i c h spoils of t h e o f f i c e r s ' mess -Kith a small, s e l e c t conm»any of t h r e e ,
insijgrfld of a greedy barracks of 60 ?
3ored wiuh tagging alon^TCxP&hT machine-gun platoon of Headquarters Company,
-+
- v-feEZ^^y* T—
1 uransierreanSHJ
1 m i n i • n t f III II!1" Ill ' I I'l.to S Company as a scout and
^ ^ h ^ ^ k l ^ ^ S ^ ^ ^
lived i n a box s t a l l for the next two-and-a-half
l e f t Aldboume for good, 2$r stablsmates were a p a i r of congenial, scrounging
Southerners and a neurotic older replacement * o l a t e r doped h i n s e l f with sodium
amytol i n the marshalling area M
S
B
g
and then deserted
*&fi&£&S±,
and y e t , despite his occasional b i t t e r complaints, we a l l got along fine, presenting
a united front t o the other s t a l l s and & a l l officers and nonccms. Somebody was
*
arrays bringing i n boughten bread or stolen pork chops t o cool; on the t i n y coal stove '
•webster
mt
ft
t h a t stood i n i;he center of the rough brick f l o o r , and there was amp!!* room for
,•
sociable gaass of blackjack, h e a r t s , or gin rummy.
.
Just large enough t o hold two double bunks and^our barracks bags and other gear, j
t h e s t a l l was • > *i.i
imffiTdark and crowded
iilUH m i d e a l for
i
9-oldbricking. Our clothing hung l i k e long, brown b a t s from improvised hangars on
cobwebbed ceiling beans; the l i t t l e window, having been blacked out, S 8 0 S n©
l i g h t d n the gloom; and the overhead bulb t h a t was supposed t o provide illumination,
having o r i g i n a l l y been stolen from *bhe mess h a l l (the source of a l l .battalion
l i g h t i n g ) and therefore i n t h e public domain, was more often missing "than not* Tie
had, i n short, an almost impenetrable hiding place from more irksome m i l i t a r y -chores*
7fe could
stand unseen i n the hanging clothes when -the '"harge of Quarters came
by t o roust us for formations and were thus a b l e , on dark dawns, t o send one man
out t o answer t o a l l our names a t r e v e i l l e •while the r e s t of us slept on t i l l
breakfast, "we could even sometimes beat night problems. On one occasion, I l a y f l a t
on a top bunk, pulled a G.J. blanket over my head — i t was already tucked i n
t i g h t l y a t the s i d e s — and posed as an overstuffed mattress cover. Such a n t i c s
were not possible i n more conventional barracks* The horses have moved back intothe box s t a l l s now, I understand, but I think t h e y ' r e wasted on horses*
Since the s t a b l e s could not quite hold a r i f l e company of about 120 men, t h e
overflow were b i l l e t e d i n a o a M f l l house i n the v i l l a g e called Stone Cottage.
Rousting then for r e v e i l l e was even more d i f f i c u l t than whistling forth the stable
dwellers, f o r t h e cottagers were a carefree group given t o strong drink and periodic
rosps with g S g n ^ ^ ^ ^ U ^ f ' M ^ M
|
| iaBta
^ ^ J
of the sergeants t h e r e was reduced t o p r i v a t e when a p r i s s y and r a t h e r exacting boy
lieutenant- caught him i n a t o r r i d embrace when he should have been out shivering a t
r e v e i l l e . (The sergeant, i n c i d e n t a l l y , won the Silver Star i n Ifcrmandy and was one
of the bravest and coolest men i n the 'coroany. T/hen he l o s t a leg i n a barrage a t
Sastogna, hs looked up a t the medics with a smile and s a i d , "Call ae Stumpy*. The
l i e u t e n a n t ' s shewing was l e s s dramatic)
webster
—
grandmother e t c ,
f
S^
j
i
f
r
I
Objects of universal contempt, the- non-jumping cooks were b i l l e t e d i n a similar
house and likewise astonished &mm
j
W — W B a a m with t h e i r f e s t i v i t i e s . These |
not only included great sex orgies but also drinking bouts financed by t h e y s a l e * .
— ,,
A
I j t || HBCaCfiB of t h e i r (or r a t h e r , our) steak and b u t t e r , ^he shrieks and
*
t i t t e r s , foul-mouthed, drunken oaths, creaking beds* and coarse panting -that echoed ~
from t h e i r bedrooms and the hayloft behind the .house caused many a cackle among t h e
v i l l a g e hens*
Another source of neighborly discussion was the company conmand post, or C.P*,
i n t h e half-basement of the Crown, a ^BBtSSKSStSttSSSSBSSBSBOSOa^ pub t h a t faced
the cowpond at the main road intersection* This C*P, was one of t h e l i v e l i e s t -spots
i n Aldboume — much t o the t3B> owner' s consternation. The phone was constantly
jangling; men were forever climbing i n and out of t h e basement windows and cutting
through the pub u p s t a i r s j C.Q.s shouted and blew w h i s t l e s a t a l l hours of t h e day
and n i g h t ; officers c a l l e d -to passersby on t h e s t r e e t outside; hangers-on t o l d
d i r t y jokes i n loud v o i c e s . In addition, the Hquor c e l l a r adjacent t o t h e C,?*
was entered so often t h a t i t soon required double locks* By t h e time "A" and then
E Company's lease had run out, the owner and his wife, who were hardiy Dro-American
to QSafflrwith, had been reduced t o a s t a t e bordering on murderous frenzy. They
derived understandable
pleasure and s a t i s f a c t i o n from turning t h i r s t y paratroopers
• anay from the bar with a b r i s k , B r i t i s h "Sorry, no more beer, Ration*s gone, you
know", when every other pub i n town was s t i l l serving.
This was taking r a t h e r childish revenge on t h e innocent, because most of t h e
would-be customers came, not from the C,P„ s t a b l e s , or Stone Cottage, but irom the
2nd Battalion area s t r a i g h t ahead on the main, or Kungerford, road. This area was
hone to ipost of u s . i t contained a quadrangle of KLssen h u t s , half a dozen o n e ^ t o r y
tarpaper barracks, and two l a t r i n e s . The huts were separated from the barracks by a
sunken road lined with honeysuckle and' sweet red roses r u s t l i n g with gentle doves and
cuckoos t h a t welcomed the sun each morning. Stock lane, a narrow country road t o
Eaasbury, bordered the area on the -west, and a l l around were big, green h i l l s l i k e
?
•webster
^Bfc .
grandmother e t c ,
<S* =>V­
those at ^atertown, Connecticut, where I had gone to school. The area sloped <BB*5*ST*
.
towards « 0 H H H i the Hungerford road, a hundred yards away, and was -l/ordered
s
(
on that side by rustic cottages, but i t was far enough out of t^ro to give an
illusion of graceful country living.
The plumbing was the only real drawback. I t was British, of course, for 1>he
huts and barracks had been built at the start of the -war, and i f ever an army
practised laissez faire with i t s enlisted men, i t was that of our gallant a l l y . 2his
xas, 1 suppose, a remnant of feudal days, when chivalrous knights, born to their
arrogance, screwed on t h e i r armor, mounted huge dray horses, and bade t h e i r knaves
gather clubs and follow them to -the fray* Officers were gentlemen, other ranks came
from the peasantry. Give -them food and cold water, bat do not coddle them, .because
they simply do not appreciate the finer things of l i f e . "When "the war was over,
England voted Socialist. Churchill couldn ! t understand why.
He might have understood i f he had had to use the Mssen-hut latrine that his
army had built for i t s enlisted men. This Tras a rectangular, corrugated-iron shanty
about 4-0 feet long and 15 feet ride that -was roughly set on a cracked concrete slab.
A metal-lined, slanted wooden trough stood rraist-high at the north end, while other
purposes -were served by two parallel rows of large metal coal scuttles, called honey
buckets, -with side handles and removable wooden seats. These symmetrical containers
-were picked up and emptied into a wooden tank on a truck by the only civilian i n the
T7orld irtiom nobody envied* He was called the honey-bucket man.
There was no running water in the l a t r i n e , there were no lights or rolls of
t o i l e t paper, and the two coal stoves in the eentsr of the aisle were never fixed
not even on dark December nights when the ground iras white -with frost and a b i t t e r ,
•North-Sea ^ind slashed through the cracks in the trails (and they were many). Ca such
evenings, constipation was universally preferred to a brief interlude in the arctic
wind tunnel.
/..
—~-4~
webster
grandmother
etc.
5 2..
Since the officers realized t h a t even t h e most confirmed goldbrick -would
prefer f i e l d duty to such a chore, ths l a t r i n e was cleaned (and I use the
•word advisedly) by guardhouse prisoners only. gSBSSbsaRSBBBven s o , the
floor was usually a T i l e l i t t e r of caked mud, c i g a r e t t e b u t t s , and scraps
of paper, and the north end was continually moist. Texans
shoeless to and through our privy, but -when I went t h e r e , 1 always wore
shoes and tucked the laces i n s i d e . 1 couldn't stomach the p l a c e .
I t was, nevertheless, second only 1>o the Tied Cross hut as a s o c i a l
center where gossip was exchanged and Tumors sprang .fully grown from t h e
honey buckets. An 7 Company rifleman might come i n with a copy of t h e
DAILY MAIL, read i t , -use pages 1 and 2 , and pass t h e remainder t o h i s
neighbor, a mortarman from Headquarters Company, along with t h e rumor
that the o u t f i t was going t o Italy* Across t h e a i s l e , somebody from D
Company might r e f e r t o a STARS AJJD STRIFES story gM&fcMfiBgggjgBESt
about an impending push from.Anzio,. He allowed as how, a l l .rumors-being f r e e
and equal, the 506th would be flown t o ±taly and dropped ahead of the 5th Army.
•_
i
webster
srandr.other e t c .
'' ',mj*
S3­
An eavesdropper might hear the word Africa, and before you knew it,*
three bright,new rumors were outjgjjijgfr In time for full circulation*
before reveille z 1. T^e outfit was going to Italy by troopship -to
fight as regular infantry, 2. We would be flown there and jumped
ahead- of the infantry, and 3* Africa would be the nest training area*
The rumors were false, the outfit stayed on, Normandy was our
destination. And the nert morning we would fall out for reveille, bathe
and shave by candlelight in the ice-water washhouse nearby, and form
up by companies for our trek through Aldboume to the mess hall. Three
times a day vie marched from the south end to the north, -three times .a
day v/e straggled back home* Xt was a delightful, invigorating walk that
gave us a rimiii^. • mm
I • in gfa n"
mi,! civilian life in postcard
surroundings and reconciled us somewhat to our overseas existence.
Mess kits jangling, sergeants shouting cadence ana waking -the
populace with their wHup. Hup! Hup, two,three, four I" ("Bloody Yanksi"
the English would say, slamming their windows down in our wake) we
would parade cheerfully down the lane past sleeping, thatched-roof
cottages with roses blooming on trellises in front and flower gardens
that never seemed to wilt or lie dormaS\ qgM
Sal q±ej "-stone house
where a pretty girl lived at whom everybody whistled. She had fresh,
clean skin, pink cheeks, soft brown hair, quiet, smiling blue eyes, and
a delightful figure, and although she blushed when they whistled, you
could see that she liked the soldiers' attentions. It was probably the
most attention she had ever received in her life,
., «.
_
_ and I would not be surprised to
learn that she^Tinally married someone from the 2nd Battalion. V/e would
turn left at her corner and go clattering up the Hungerford road.
Smoky nist would be rising from the great, green hills on our
right, and soon an orange sun would slowly swell over their crest.
./.
vrebster
grandmother etc* .
O
The crisp, cool, sweet country air would be f i l l e d with the gay
twitter of hundreds of tiny birds, v/ith here and there among the
hawthorn hedges the soft c a l l of dove or cuckoo. Yfe might see a farmer
plowing a black furrow on a far slope and hear the jingle of h i s great
horses* harness or pass a stately herd of brown cows clopping slowly
towards the pond. The smell of breakfast f i r e s would meet us further
in town. There was a baker at the corner of the lane t o the officers*
mess, a friendly man who occasionally obliged us with a loaf of freshly­
cookeaTSifiat oread, and i f his flour ration had Just come i n , we might
'
i
smell the loaves r i s i n g in h i s -ovenjas we circled the cowpond and
headed up the lane.. On our vray, we might s e e t h e man who hunted rabbits
v/ith -ferrets. He carried the im'TiklUm white f e r r e t s in a "burlap sack,
and when he found a l i k e l y rabbit warren, -pushed them into holes In the
ground to drive the hares into his .shotgun or n i Imi—iFM'iT l i t t l e nets
that he spread over adjacent h o l e s . Perhaps a f i e l d hand would cycle
past us with a nod and a smile, on his way t o work at a distant farm,
or we would meet a flock of sheep and their bright, nervous l i t t l e
Scotch c o l l i e coming in from the ISflF chalk h i l l s near the Shepherd's
£ e s t . The church clock might strike s i x as we marched through the gate
and past the officers 1 mess and wound around the stables t o our own
dining room on a short, slippery h i l l behind.
We got our food from the black-handed cooks, surly from t h e i r
hayloft dalliances, and took our wobbly mess k i t s with their oatmeal and
jam and scrambled pov»dered eggs downhill t o one of the unlighted
Nissen huts, where we ate v/ith our gloves on in a freezing darkness.
If .someone, had been thoughtful enough t o bring one, we might dine by
flashlight or e f v e n ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ S ^ S ^ ^ ^ j by candlelight, f o r , although the
huts were wired for illumination,, any light bulb screwed into a socket
disappeared at the next meal^J Light bulbs couldn't be bought in
Aldbourne. Maybe i t was j u s t ' a s well that there was no lighting,though,
}.
webster
srandraother etc*
because then, as so many wits suggested, v;e could see '.iiat we were
>
eating. Powdered eggs are better eaten than seen.
Our meal over, we would slip home hy ones and twoes on devious
routes. We had to go straight back after breakrast, because there was
little time between it and the first formation, but after lunch and
supper and until the order was issued that ell men had to march home
in change of a noncom, we had ample opportunity to take the long road
to the billets, With five pubs, four bakers., and a tea shop en route*
this road was a veritable Pilgrim's Progress, and we were open to B!1
temptations*
If it was serving time, we might slip away to the Mason's Arms
or the Crown, the Bell, or the Queen Victoria'for s game of darts
and a quick ale or double gin* We would filter to e back room by a
tiny coal fire and, keeping a westher eye open for officers and
sergeants, sip our brew in civilian splendor, I liked to drink
milk stout, a thick, brown, sweetish brew, dubbed motor oil by the
S.I.s, that was recomr.ended as a bracer for invelids and. old
people, and help it along with e bite of lardy ceke.
Lardy cake is a heavy, sticky coffee-ringlike pastry that is very
filling ana far more appetising than its name would imply* I got
nine from the baker across the street fron the Bell, If the pubs
weren't open,
I'd
hide
it
under
my
field
jacket
/ .
weuauox*"
R
I
grandmother etc..
and smuggle i t into camp for future reference* If someone had butter
yfresh,^
from the o f f i c e r s ' mess, then I might buy a loaf ofY^EForead and
munch i t with the squad* Of other refreshment, there was none, for the
English were on such QflBSflHBH^ short rations that there was
no ua&aMmst food t o be hade in any market or butcher shop*
•
j*ut food and drink were for l e i s u r e moments* Too soon i t was
time t o f a l l out again, too soon we heard the C O ^ s w h i s t l e , -the s h r i l l , j
grating cries of "Everybody outside 1 Pull f i e l d equipment *" Stashing
the lardy cake in a duffel bag, we assembled i n the pitted f i e l d where
no grass could grow and marched off i n the h i l l s l o r another day of
playing soldier* We were k i l l i n g time before "the Invasion, when anany
of us would d i e , and the problems were so dull tha^f«aSS5r looked
forward t o JOBS- a swift return t o Aldbourne and the evening that -we
would spend there..
For a quiet, country v i l l a g e , Aldbourne offered a surprising
number of diversions* We could, i f we had the ambition and the -fuel,
kindle a f i r e in the battalion boiler and take a hot shower* 'I'he l a t r i n e
orderly in charge usually went t o sleep i n a back room while we were
out in the f i e l d .
I did i t myself'—- thus leaving us the choice of
a cold shower immediately upon our return or a warm one after supper
through our own efforts* If we were too t i r e d t o take a shower, we
could s e t t l e down t o a sociable game of cards with the boys i n the
barracks or shoot craps with strangers elsewhere. We could also pick
blackberries, i f they were in season, along Stock Lane. A company party
might find us spending a bloody evening before, as I once did, skinning
rabbits in the washroom. Hen of a particularly vigorous mold (the same
breed, no doubt, who l e f t t h e i r jup tents after a 115-mile, three-day
speed march t o hitchhike t o Atlanta for a night's dancing) might play
touch or s o f t b a l l on the parade-ground or adjourn t o the v i l l a g e soccer
grandmother etc.
<3E~ i
ST. t
f i e l d for more formal matches b e t w e e n S B B f t S ^ officers and ^ &
noncoms. Lazier individuals greeted the advent of double-daylight
savings time by sunning themselves in the doorways or lying on the
ground, looking up at the wide blue sfcy and thinking of g i r l s and home
and D Day. Others gathered in the Red Cross shack for coffee and
doughnuts - ^
n
* "\
m nl —r~^— ii r 11 l i i
•mfTi ui sweet songs l i k e
"Do Nothing T i l l Tou Hear Prom Me" and "When You're A Long, Xong Way
Prom Home". We could pitch horseshoes or fry bread on the barracks
stove ( i f too many people weren't watching) or pass the time of day
with old acquaintances* Once a week we queued up for P.X. rations*
We got seven packs of i*tCn\wm Chelsea or Haleigh cigarettes, -three
candy bars, one pack of gum, a cake of soap, a box of matches, a
package of razor blades, and irregular issues of such luxuries as
cookies, washrags, towels, combs, coat hangers, etc*
There
6:30 P.M.
was a general exodus from camp when the pubs opened .at
They remained open for three hours, and i f payday happened
t o coincide with the arrival of the fortnightly liquor ration, "they
would be packed tight for three hours. Thirsty troopers would f i l l
every
room, sipping heavy, pint, glass mugs of beer.and/or hastily downing
double Scotches u n t i l the ration ran out* The air would be thick with
smoke and good-natured, boisterous talk,and y e t , for a l l the crowding
and drinking, there was remarkably l i t t l e f r i c t i o n , for we were at
home and on our good behavior.
If the pubs were dry, then we might saunter through the v i l l a g e
t o . l e a v e our laundry with one of several dozen women who were glad t o
o n f l B B R t f l f o r candy, soap,
• cigarettes or a few shillings a week.
Some of the man,might v i s i t with families that they had come to know and
l i k e , while others courted l o c a l damsels. Owners of jealously padlocked
bicycles pedaled quietly out of town t o the Shepherd's Rest
- i-
-a
grandmother etc.
<SgW *7^' i
or other, :':'^r-~&£&be&&t more obscure hideaways, the location of which
fasggggggggipublickly
broadcast. More sedentary soldiers would take their,
!
ease beside Sbwhiskered old farmers i n leggins.and tireed s u i t s on a
sunny bench that faced the cowpond and from that vantage point watoh
the exciting, wartime world go by*
* *
Civilians were admitted t o our bi-weekly movies in the hall
erected on the Baydon road as a memorial t o the surprisingly large
number of young men k i l l e d i n the 1st World War, but they v/ere excluded
from the social-disease c l a s s i c s that were used periodically t o terrify
usVin duty hours. Dances were also held i n the Memorial Hall, and althougi
l o c a l g i r l s were i n v i t e d , most of the dates for these affairs were
British W.A.A.F.S* from nearby Boyal Air Force bases * There were great
goings-on at these dances, what with the blackout and the.convivial
s p i r i t s of both p a r t i e s , neither of whom expected t o see the other again
or t o establish a permanent relationship. A medical captain distinguished
r-^Jb U01JE^_
himself on such evenings by going from coup^epie'cking in the dark
outside and urging the more ardent swains t o make f u l l use of the
contraceptives and prophylaxes that he thrust upon them. (The men liksd
him i n spite of h i s f a u l t s
he once recommended giving the mortar
platoon a week off t o rest their feet —— but he was l a t e r transferred
from the o u t f i t , so the story went, after he ^mtmssimm iirlm*. turned
a battalion commander in for a Section 8, or psychiatric
discharge,
for recommending himself for a Silver Star in Normandy^jSkr TT^tfG SHtKf
«p Hie TflAHSPcfc vu*s FAR u&s f cEAstwrn;
We brought a lot of life to Aldbourne and left a legacy of
affection that is still there. The older people who liked the new
youthfulness and the younger set who partook of it, the girls who got
the 'cigarettes and the little boys who got gum and candy and their first
oranges, saw it all and warmed to us and smiled as we passed by.
Whatever we did wrong, and it was not all
sweetness and light, they
;.
ST-*"
s t o i c a l l y accepted as war. They did not try t o regiment us and restrict.
us as our own pressure groups had done at home, denying us v/omen and
•
liquor and antisejrtically subsituting coke and the TT.S.O.. They l e t us
go our own way, because they knew that t h i s was war and soldiers were
s o l d i e r s , regardless of uniform. In America we were momma*s boys, in
England we were soldiers*
There was a war on at the time, and i n spite of al3 our country
pleasantries England was very close t o i t . We watched the Germans bomb
Reading one night from a wet copse and were constantly crunching under­
foot long, twisted s t r i p s of t i n f o i l that enemy planes .had dropped on
the downs t o distort the British antiaircraft radar* The Some Guard
marched b r i s i l y through the streets of Aldhourne, and the air above ms
was f i l l e d uay'iand night with the thunder of planes, of Whitleys and
Beaufighters, of Blenheims and S p i t f i r e s , of .Mosquitoes, Bnrricanes,
Tycoons, Wellingtons, Halifaxes, and S t i r l i n g s ; of Flying Forts and
B-25s, of P-47s and C-47s 7 of P-51s, B-26s, and A-20s„ On clear days the
sky v/ould often throb for hours, and we would look up from the peaceful
green fields,gay witirkpuc-cercups, and see the tiny black dots and long
white vapor t r a i l s of hundreds of B-17s massing f o r a raid on Germany*
Great, black, four-engined B r i t i s h bombers, on t h e i r way t o set Hamburg
or Bremen a f i r e , would swoop over the barracks by ones and twoes at
t w i l i g h t time, while we cheered, and there was always a procession of
brown C-47s circling overhead with gliders in tow or recruits from the
division jump school at Chilton F o l i a t . The barracks were blacked-out at
night, guards carried l i v e ammunition,trucks drove with pencil-beam
headlights, the Germans were 150 miles away.
As the days grew longer and the air got warmer and flowers
bloomed once more on mossy brick w a l l s , our f i e l d problems got bigger
and duller and began t o involve whole divisions and corps • In rumbling
webster
gran p o t h e r e t c .
£3&
t
%&
r
mass formations of red and green wing lights that looked like Christmas i
i
trees in the sky, the 9th Air Force Troop Carrier Command started
;
practicing night formations. Then we knev; beyonu all doubt that vie would!
go in after sundown, when crickets chirp in the wet grass and frogs call j
i
to one another and men lie still and dream. Our time in England was
coming to an end*
On March 12th the Germans announced that we would invade Europe 13IB •
following Wednesday. On March 23rd we staged a mass jump for Churchill
and Eisenhower.. s enry Ford set April 9th as the date for the war's end.
On May 12th we returned from the final Invasion maneuvers in Devonshire* :
On May 21st I went to ^ondon on a one-day pass and found the city
deserted; the G.T.s had a U disappeared. Shortly after my return,Br±tish j'
and American M.P..S stopped at the main intersection in Aldbourne -and
tacked up a bevrlldering array of coded military signs, all pointing south
i
to the beaches, and soon mysterious sealed convoys of trucks were rolling
down the Hungerford road day and night,
n
ases and cases of artillery
ammunition appeared, as if by magic, in the woods and vacant lots along
the highways, and on May 28th, just as I was dressing for another pass
to Iondon, the telephones jangled in the company headquarters, noncoms
rushed to the C.P.s, and the news was out..
The Regiment had been alerted. No more passes, Nobody leaves the
area. Pack A bags for shipment and B bags for storage. Make up seaborne
bedrolls. Draw your full quota of ammunition. Grenades will be issued
in the marshalling area.
We left Aldbourne when the trees were yellow-green and the air was
sweet with summer flowers. When we marched to our trucks and buses, the
whole village turned out to say goodbye. There were many tears. "Good
luck and God bless you", the people called, as we drove off through the
dappled sunlight to keep a midnight rendezvous with the Germans in the
t--
^
green fields of Europe»
IYfchink of Aldbourne in nostalgic moments
frantic, insubstantial city of Los Angeles, and it seems more enduring
»
than anything in Southern California. I close my eyes and see the Tillage',
green, sloping away from the church.
It is almost midnight, quiet and wintry and frosty.. The old grey
church and the lovely houses on the green are sharply outlined "by a
pale December moon*
A paratrooper^ ghost stands guard at the gate to the officers1 messi
His overcoat is buttoned to the chin, the collar -turned up against the
cold. He is wearing a wool-knit cap under his helmet and silently rubs
his
hands together and stamps his feet as he waits for -the relief "to
appear*
He snaps to attention and gives a rifle salute to officers killed in
action who walk briskly by on frost-whitened cobblestones on their way
home from a party at their mess. They return <the salute with smiles and a
soft "Good night" and go home to the Old Rectory, crunching the silence ..
with their jumpboots. Then it is still again*
The clock in the ancient'belfry winds; up and begins to strike
midnight, and the sound of hurrying footsteps comes up the lane from
the Hungerf6rd road.
The guard tingles. It is the relief.
The clock strikes twelve, the guard vanishes, the officers are dead.
Horses whinny in the box stalls where soldiers slept, and the new owner
of the 18th-century officers1 mess tosses uneasily in his sleep. The
footsteps are two young farmhands returning from a movie in Swindon.
Aldbourne sleeps, the 5o6th a mempr%»,,_,,
• ./ t: i,
i!~u