LEST WE FORGET 193 HANDFORD, Mervin Campbell (continued) Now it was time to rest for a while in Kleve, Germany where we set up a makeshift camp and stayed for awhile. We then flew over to London by DC3 Dakota airplane for another nine-day leave. It was better than going by boat for twenty miles across the English Channel, which was the roughest piece of water I have ever been on in a ship or ferry. Leese and I left by train from London, England bound for Edinburgh via “The Flying Scotsman”. That’s what they called the passenger train. As I recall, it moved over the rails at a fast clip. We landed in Edinburgh where we stayed in hostels for servicemen.We went out to the streets to see the sights and noticed there were many beautiful Scottish lassies who treated us like royalty, when I reflect on it now. I went up the hill to the old Edinburgh castle which was a sight to behold for a couple of young soldiers from the prairies of Saskatchewan. The days flew by, and it was time to board “The Flying Scotsman” again back to London. We returned once again to the front lines. It was a matter of trying to catch up with the “Jerries” who were retreating and trying to hold on till the last straw. We finally landed in Emden, Germany where we went on reconnaissance looking for the last Germans. We took off out of Delfzijl, Holland, (formerly spelled Delfzyl) across the border from Emden, Germany. We went down the road for two miles, made a right turn, and continued along the road until we came across some disabled German vehicles that were blocking the road. We stopped and noticed little broken pieces of pavement in the road. Sergeant Preston and I got out and looked under a chunk of broken asphalt. There were a bunch of land mines.We had to turn around and start back to Delfzijl. Just then the German 88-millimeter tank guns opened up on us. There was a field of tall grass and a bit of a ridge. They couldn’t get a real bead on us to get a direct hit. My carrier was the last one of the four heading back to Delfzijl, Holland. When we made a left turn to go up the road, a couple of Germans opened fire from the ditch with anti-tank guns. One hit just in front of the carrier – enough to break some steel in the back of the vehicle, but I just kept driving. Two Bren Gunners by the name of Smutts and Novak jumped out because they thought the “Jerries” had made a direct hit. I didn’t realize this until we got back to our headquarters, which was when I realized they weren’t in the back of the Bren Gun Carrier. They were taken prisoner by the Germans. It was now time out for rest and regrouping for a few days. The Perth Regiment from the 5th Division took over from us in the front lines, and they captured Smutts and Novak back again. They returned to our unit support company of the Regina Rifle Regiment of the 3rd Division which I belonged to. While we were resting in Delfzijl, the German naval gun boats started to shell our positions with 18-inch naval shells. We took shelter in a basement of a big house. The basement walls were about two-and-a-half feet thick – just like a bunker. I guess they were built that way to stand up to allied bombing. One of the shells landed close to the big house, and the concussion came through the basement and killed one of our guys. It makes me wonder why this guy was taken. He used to write a letter to his wife and kids back in Saskatchewan every week. He was quite a bit older than us other fellows. We used to call him ‘Pop’. He was one great guy. I guess his number was up, and it was his turn to go. We went back on the offense again and backed the Germans up until they surrendered on May 8, 1945. Sergeant Preston, our section sergeant, was killed by a sniper while he was out directing us in bringing the carrier around the corner in Emden, Germany. (continued)
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