A Remembrance

The following is a story by my father Alex who was a member of the Black Watch. He told the story to the Sudbury Scene who published his story as well as others in a special two page spread on Thursday Nov 7th 1963. Be advised it is wartime and blunt.

The day I remember most vividly from the Second World War was the day we entered the town of Groningen, Holland.

We moved along quite well until we came to a canal. There was no way across. The bridges had been blown. As we waited, an old Dutchman came along and asked the lieutenant what the trouble was.

The lieutenant told the civilian to "get lost," but some of the fellows started talking to the Dutchman who knew a little English. We told him the problem.

The old man went away...but he soon returned, this time toting a barge. He tied it up where we were waiting and disappeared again. In a short time he was back again with another barge -- and then another.

All the time the Germans were taking potshots at the Dutchman but they did not hit him. He left before we could thank him for the three barges which helped us to hop across to the other side of the canal.

On the other side a German sniper pinned us down from a nearby tower. Our lieutenant told a young private who had joined us two days before to take the PIAT and blow a hole in the tower. The private replied he had never fired that type of weapon the officer said "Now is the time to learn."

And he made a good job of it - a bull's eye the first shot. And so we moved forward again to our objective, a park two streets away.

We went from house to house and as we approached the park we found twenty Germans were in an air raid shelter in the park. Their small arms fire kept us in the houses. One of our fellows crept close to the shelter and called on the Germans to surrender.

They wouldn't so he used the flame thrower on the shelter... And we took the park.