Monday, October 06, 2008

Sunday 3rd August 1941

The time is 4a.m. I think there is some sort of a show on this morning. At present all is quiet here, but there is a good deal of firing going on in the western sector. I feel hardly in the mood for any sort of show; I feel about 90. Stiff, weary, full of aches and pains, no appetite for either eating or smoking. Guess I've got a cold. Mish qwise.

Nothing extraordinary has happened lately. We have sweated, felt thirsty and been very tired and eager for sleep; that is all very usual. Yesterday, 5 Nazi planes made a low-level dive bombing attack on the harbour. I watched as they fled above me – lovely white machines, darting swiftly and gracefully across the sky. According to the BBC news two days ago, 997 air raids (with bombs dropped) have been made on Tobruch since the siege began.

We had an OP on this sector (Post Normy – perhaps spelled wrong) which is 2 miles outside the lines. The enemy tried to rush it a couple of days ago. It's held by a dozen tough Aussies. They sent down an SOS:- “Post Normy is being surrounded”
“Burton to lay on Normy DF,” came from Burton Box.
“I'm cutting you off now. Priority” I said on the exchange. “Burton to lay on Normy DF”
“What's that?” bellowed Sid Pond, “Normal defensive fire, Steve?”
“Lay on Normy DF” “OK” A few moments later, “Normy DF – Fire”

Slam! The first B Troop shell whistled on it's way. The attack was driven off with machine guns, hand grenades and our shells. Later a patrol went out, reported “all quiet” and brought back a wounded Iti. “Does he testify to the accuracy of our fire?” “He's badly hit – in the groin” “Oh, poor fellow!” (Human!)

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