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. After the liberation of Germany he was based in Münster. This is his story. One of the many attractions of Münster is the large lake running alongside the West side of the town. This is known as the Aasee. One day out walking with a mate we walked onto the bridge, which spans the Aasee and saw two girls standing on the bridge. We found that their names were Ruth and Inge Greiser. Ruth spoke excellent English and I made a date to meet her later. I was soon visiting Ruth's family at their home. Her father was a real Prussian German of the old school. He was head of the family and what he said was carried out. Mutti (mother) was another archetypal German, the Hausfrau-Kinder, Küche ünd Kirche (Children, Kitchen and Church). In the family was Ruth's younger sister Inge (Ingeborg) who was fifteen, plus her sister Barbara who, with her two young children, were also living in the house. The family had walked all the way from Posen, in Poland, just keeping ahead of the advancing Russians. Barbara, who was usually known as Bärbel, had a husband in the army but he was missing in Russia. He has never returned. During that summer the regiment went on the ranges at Fällingbostel. We were under canvas, which wasn't bad because the weather was fine and warm. The tents were not far from Belsen Concentration camp. All of the original hutted camp had been burned but the inmates who were still there now used the SS accommodation. There was a cinema in the camp, which we could use in the evenings. The ranges were about six miles from the tented camp. I can't remember how our tanks were moved from Münster to Fällingbostel but it was probably on transporters. This was the first opportunity for the flame-thrower crews to try out their new toys and they needed a target. It was decided that our Chaffee tank should take on this job. Luckily we were about half a mile away but it was still a rather chilling sight to see the long tongues of flame heading in our direction. The noise it makes, a sort of howl, is also very frightening. They also decided to use their 75mm guns on us but only firing smoke rounds. We still thought that we should batten down the hatches in case we were hit. We never were. Captain Callender, who I had always believed was a bit of a madman, decided to drive his Churchill across the far side of the range so that the rest of his squadron could practice firing their 'co-ax' machine guns. When he came back to our position we found that their aim had been very good indeed. His mudguards were riddled, two of his periscopes had been shot away and he had lost his wireless aerial. We found we had a big advantage having a Chaffee tank. We could drive back to the area of the tented camp at about 35mph. We could refuel the tank, wash and shave and get cleaned up ready for tea before the Churchill's with their maximum speed of 17mph, downhill with a wind behind them, arrived back in camp. When the regiment had finished with this training it returned to Münster and Ruth and I carried on where we had left off. The whole family went out for a meal at a local restaurant. Food coupons had to be given up for most items on the menu, but fries potato cakes were available ratio free. I had begun to pick up a little German, realising that unless I did I would not have a clue what my future mother-in-law was saying about me. We had, of course, by that time become un-officially engaged. The Signals Officer had acquired an American 'walkie-talkie,' rather like a big telephone handset, using the then new layer-built batteries. Unfortunately these were unobtainable, so we rigged up a mains power unit for the radio. The problem was that whenever he wanted to call us on the radio he had to find a mains outlet to supply current for it. One night I had been on guard duty. On the guard dismounting parade in the morning, the Orderly Officer put me on a charge for having dirty fingernails (after having been on guard all night.) I couldn't help noticing that he had a tidemark round his neck where he had not washed properly. Since he was a Captain, and was probably doing Orderly Officer duty because of some misdeed or other, there was nothing I could do about it, one law for the rich etc. Ron Levett, 2001
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