Ron Levett's memories of his time in the British Liberation Army during World War II.

Ron Levett, born in Alfriston, East Sussex, enlisted in 1943 and joined the Royal Armoured Corps. After completing his training as a Driver Operator he was sent to Belgium to join the British Liberation Army, where he was posted to the Royal Scots Grays and then to the Regimental Headquarters (RHQ) signals troop. Their task was to liberate Belgium, Holland and ultimately Germany. This is his story.

After being given my first posting I arrived in Southampton and boarded a troopship, which I believe was called the 'Isle of Thanet'. The journey took all night and the ship arrived off Ostend in the early hours. We heard on the grapevine that we had been held up because of reports of mines in the Channel.

I was in the group that seemed to be on the lowest deck of the ship. There was a grating in the floor through which the propeller shaft could be seen rotating. It was fortunate that we avoided the minefield otherwise I would not be telling this story.

It took a long time to disembark but eventually we formed up on the quayside and marched up through the town, a distance of about a mile, to a Belgian army barracks. The room to which we were assigned was a bare room without even any beds.

We were sent down to the storeroom and were given a palliasse and told to fill it from a pile of straw which filled the end of the room. The ablutions were the most primitive I had ever seen, a hole in the floor with two raised blocks for the feet. This was my first introduction to a continental toilet.

I spent a very uncomfortable night and was glad when reveille was sounded at 6 am. After breakfast we assembled in the square between the buildings. The march to the railway station was a short one and the train stood waiting for us. This was a steam train and one of the oldest left in Belgium.

Late in the afternoon the train steamed into the station at a small town called Vilvoorde, which is just north of Brussels. The first thing that struck me was white blancoed webbing equipment hanging from all the upper story windows of the barracks. And to think that we had handed in all of our best brasses and cap badges.

This was a holding camp for reinforcements to all regiments in the British Liberation Army (BLA). If anyone thought that being sent to a line regiment was not such a good idea, when their name was called out they casually strolled to their position in the ranks. This so enraged the Sergeant Major that he sent them straight to the Guardroom under close arrest. This is, of course, a lot safer place than the front line.

I didn't see any point in postponing the inevitable and two days later found myself in a truck being driven along the tree lined roads across Belgium and into Holland.

We arrived at another small town, called Weert, which was where 271 Forward Delivery Squadron (FDS) was stationed, which was part of 4th Armoured Brigade. Reinforcements of both personnel and tanks could be called for by any of the three Armoured Regiments in the Brigade.

A Corporal escorted me and three other young soldiers to a small semi-detached house at the end of the road where the FDS was stationed. He knocked on the door and when a young woman opened it, he held up four fingers and pointed to us. He then marched away and left us standing there.

After about five embarrassed minutes I thought that someone should make a move so I laid my head on my hand and closed my eyes. Then I opened my eyes and pointed to the upper rooms of the house. A light dawned in her eyes and she led us upstairs to our first civvy billet.

When her husband returned from work, by using a lot of sign language we managed to converse and I found that he was a musician in a dance band who played the violin. They had two small children and their family name was Mulder.

Her maiden name had been Tulden, so after her marriage, by Dutch tradition she became Mulder van Tulden. By the end of our stay with them we were talking politics and I had learnt one or two Dutch swear words to insult a German in Dutch.

The cookhouse and mess hall was a converted garage and when the meal was served, a small green tablet was added to the food. Rumour was that it was to reduce our libido, but I really believe it was a vitamin tablet. The food was up (or down!) to the usual army standard.

One morning a sergeant asked me if I was a driver and when I said yes he told me to 'move that vehicle'. I realised that he was talking about a Sherman. I decided 'nothing ventured, nothing gained' so I climbed in and started the engine, put the tank in gear and let out the clutch. That stalled the engine, so I restarted and tried again.

This time I was more successful and off I went at a rate of knots. When I arrived at my destination, some two hundred yards along the road, I climbed out feeling quite pleased with myself until I discovered that I had run over the guy ropes of the battery-charging tent and had dragged the tent along the road!

I wasn't very popular with the Royal Signals, but after helping them to re-erect the tent we parted as friends.

On another occasion a Honey light tank needed a road test, so three or four of us climbed in and off we went to visit a local lake that I believe was called Iron Man Lake. I did know the Dutch name but can't spell it.

On the way back we came round a corner rather too fast and skidded across the road where there was a Bren Carrier parked. We hit the back of the carrier and broke both tracks. It rolled off its tracks and freewheeled for about fifty yards. Then a head lifted itself from inside and a surprised infantryman, who had been sleeping inside, looked out.

After about two weeks at our very pleasant billet, the posting order came through and I found my mates and I were posted to the Royal Scots Greys. We packed our kit again and off we went.

Ron Levett, 2001