Thread: Sapper Brian Guy

Warr44.com has been given permission from Sapper Brian Guy to use in parts facts taken from the book “Cameos of War” that he wrote regarding his experiences during WWII.

Thank you Brian for your kind permission allowing me to add your story.


Brian served with the 246 Field Company, Royal Engineers, Eighth Brigade, Third British Infantry Division during WWII and what you read here is in Brian's own words taken from his book, "Cameos of War".

The Tittle of Brian's Book

*Please note this thread will be closed, feel free to start new threads if you have any comments.

'Cameos of War' This is a recollection of events that occurred a very long time ago, events that made a deep impression on a very young and inexperienced Dorset man in those far off war time days, a nineteen year old country man who was totally innocent in the ways of war. Like many young men in those distant days we were very patriotic and felt the need as young men to defend and fight for our Country. Against an evil Enemy, an Enemy that had rampaged across Europe, Russia, and Africa, murdering and killing innocent men, women and children in their millions, an Enemy that had brought about a new dark age into the continent of Europe.
I happened to be, (as a young engineer) in a reserved occupation, but later, joined as a Sapper who served in 246 Field Company Royal Engineers. This Company was always in the thick of things, at the "sharp end" right from the word go, from the moment when they landed as three Assault teams on Sword Beach, right through to the end of the war in Bremen.

Some time ago, while talking to Lionel Roebuck (East York's Regiment) about his memoirs, and in the course of that conversation, he insisted that we old Veterans have a duty to record for posterity exactly what happened back on D Day the 6th of June 1944, and following that, all the ensuing battles in Normandy, France, Belgium, Holland, and Germany. What it was like for the young men who served up at the "Sharp End" of war. Not only to record, but also to make the memoirs of ordinary fighting men available to the general public. i am deeply indebted to these friends and Veterans who allowed me to use parts of their memoirs.
For these pages describe exactly what it was like to take part in the greatest invasion the World has seen, and the downfall of the mighty Nazi war machine, followed by the freeing of the peoples of Europe

Dedicated, with great respect, to those who gave their lives in the conflict and to those who have lived with the burden of their wounds these many years.

Brian Guy

Brian Guy

The Field Company.
The Band of Brothers.
Once a Sapper, always a Sapper!

Every Infantry division, or armoured division has its own divisional Royal Engineers, these are called Field Companies and are the companies that serve at the "Sharp end" I can only talk about my own situation and attempt to describe to you exactly what they consisted of.
In the Third British Infantry Division we had three Field Companies. 17 Fld. R.E -246 Fld R.E .. and 253 Fld. R.E. these were quite small units but highly trained in assault work. For example; 246 Fld, Co RE, my own Co, was made up of three platoons, the same as the other Co's, they could be split up into smaller units of only 6 to 8 men, and they were called "sections"
The strength was made up as follows and numbered one platoon two platoon and three Platoon, so you can see they are easy to move and quite mobile, but small units.
The training of Sappers is the same as for any fighting soldier; we had to undergo basic infantry battle practice as well as training in bridging, use of explosives, mine clearance and all the other skills that Sappers have to learn, it is fair to say that when taught by the army, one never forgets! Today I am quite confident that I could set up and use plastic explosives as well today as I could over 50 years ago! It was drummed into us time and time again, that as Sappers, we were fighting men first, and Sappers after. It is also fair to say that some of us welcomed the chance to go out on fighting patrols, makes a change from having to take it all the time! Thus, there were several occasions when we fought as infantry in Normandy. In Holland we were able to go on fighting patrols at night on a regular basis in the small villages and hamlets round the river Maas.
We were supported by two cooks and some RASC drivers, we also had a Field Park company, this company was usually behind the lines and was the place where everything was stored.
246 Field Company Royal Engineers had been specially prepared as an Assault Company for D-Day, their task was to be one of vital importance in the early hours of the invasion. They had to land with the First waves of assaulting infantry and were allotted the task of opening up the beach, then clearing a rout off the beach on to the road that ran parallel to the shore.
They had been trained to use explosives and flame throwers with the purpose of blowing up or burning out anything that stood in the way of this vital opening off the beach, they had also been trained as Assault mine clearing teams; their task was to clear a path through, and under intense fire if necessary
Like all well laid plans something always goes wrong, they knew that there would be losses but their training was good enough, so that even though everything around them was complete chaos, they still stuck to, and completed their tasks. The platoons managed to open up the beach and a path beyond with the help of a 'Borrowed' armoured bulldozer.
The casualties that a R.E. Field Company sustains is not that of a infantry unit, the disposition is quite different, sometimes we would be shared out with a few men with
the infantry, sometimes on our own, but hardly ever as a complete Company. Therefore, because we operate in small groups the casualties are not sustained in large numbers, they were more likely to be a steady, but continuous loss, a 'drip, drip' loss of officers and men, an officer and ten men killed and wounded, then four more here, then six more somewhere else, before you know it, your casualties have become serious. The main reason for this was because of our operating in small groups; sometimes you would not see the rest of your comrades for some time!
Their tasks are as follows, anything that comes within their sphere! And, sometimes outside it! Clearing of mines, booby traps, building bridges, ferrying assault craft, building infantry assault bridges. Keeping the roads open, and sweeping them for mines, assault crossings of rivers and canals, sometimes under heavy fire. Laying our own protective mine fields and trip wires. To be honest, anything that the war requires.
Our transport consisted of three tonners (Lorries), plus Bren gun carriers and M14 armoured half tracks with the odd scout car, we also had armoured bulldozers, built just like a tank and its fair to say used in many ways that they were never designed for! We also used enemy transport, my pal "Spud" and I captured a large German staff car, like the one that Hitler used when he took the salute as he toured up and down in front of his massed troops! Still painted in the Western desert colours by the way!
It would not be surprising to head an assault on the enemy one day, by clearing a path for the Infantry and tanks, and then be sweeping the roads for mines behind the lines the next day.
246 Field Company R.E. always had the same motto; it was "Bash on”

Sword Beach!
246 Field Company R.E.

Among the Third Divisions own Engineers, 246 Field Company, R.E. affiliated as usual to 8th brigade, landed one Assault demolition team with each of the Assault companies of infantry, and a mine clearance team with each of the reserve companies of these two battalion's. it was one of the platoons of 246 Field company landing at H plus 10, that made the first exit off of "White" beach with a "borrowed" bulldozer, before proceeding, according to plan, to search, clear, and mark a forward rout to Hermanville. (It all sounds so matter of fact, doesn't it?)?


246 Field Co R. E. was to be the first of the Assault companies ashore, split into three Assault teams, led by Lieutenants M. Edwards. R. A. C. Trench, and R. A. Fields. There was another small recce group with the task of getting to, and securing the lock gates at Ouistreham. These three groups were made up as follows, Assault mine clearance teams armed with "Beehive" explosive charges for demolition purposes and flame-throwers if they were needed. A platoon from this company was the first to open up a path to the lateral road beyond the beach and then proceeded to open a path to Hermanville. Later, the Assault mine clearing teams of 246 R.E were used to force open two gaps through the minefields in front of the Enemy strongpoint code named "Hillman" this was inland from the beaches and entailed clearing a path for the infantry under close Enemy fire. Later another path was cleared, an 8 yd wide mine Fee path, this time, for the passage of tanks, again under close Enemy fire.
These were the task entrusted to Assault teams of 246 Field Co. R.E. All were successfully completed. Later still, the leading elements of 246 Field Co R.E. were engaged in rafting tanks across the river Orne and Canal sites (Pegasus Bridge) between the 6th Airborne and Third Div, having to break off now and then to defend the site from determined Enemy' attack.
The above Compiled from official R. E. records. "The Route forward"


Thus, the stage was set for the bitter and murderous battles that followed and consequently laid low the beautiful towns, villages, and countryside of Normandy. For many of us, battles that we relive many times, over and over again, never to be free from the memory of our fallen comrades, or the terrible wounds suffered by many in the cause of freedom. What follows are the personal memories that stuck in the minds of five young and inexperienced, but patriotic servicemen, who were privileged to have served with that noble band. The Eighth Brigade of the Third British infantry Division. "Monties ironside's" The original “Band of Brothers”

Cameos of War.
June. 1944. Another World?

Many years have passed and much has been forgotten, but for many of us, some memories stand out crystal clear, as though it were yesterday. Little things take me back, the smell of burning wood on Summer mornings, the sound of distant guns on the army firing range, miles away, still have an unsettling effect, odd events that remind me of long departed friends who never lived to see the end of the war. There are few days that pass without something reminding me of those times, so long ago. 1 am sometimes deeply saddened by the thought of all those young men who gave their lives for freedom, some of them so young, far too young, to make the ultimate sacrifice.
This then, is a very personal record of impressions and events that happened to a very young, and very green, country lad, sometimes, a very frightened young man, just one of many thousands who fought in Normandy. Bloody Normandy for freedom and their Country. While writing these memoirs, I am reminded constantly how the mists of time can dim the recall of some detail of those days, dates and timings cannot be put into a logical sequence, but! Some are as clear today, as they were back in 1944. Sadly, some parts of my memory, unfortunately, have been wiped clean and I cannot recall anything about certain periods. Fortunately, this record of those times is helped by the experiences of others, who were serving in the same brigade as me and have recorded what happened.

The Country Boy
Langton Matravers and Village life

My family lived on the estate of a preparatory school, Durnford, Langton Matravers, where my father was employed as the head gardener, on this estate we lived in a very old stone cottage, a cottage with a sway back roof, it leaked water and was always damp, the walls of the cottage were constructed from what appeared to be mud, rushes, and horse hair, the walls were virtually hollow and had been whitewashed, the windows of the cottage were quite small and could only be looked out of by sitting in a wooden shelf that was built in to the thickness of the walls. This was very old house.
The downstairs floors were made of flag-stones and we had a very large pantry that had whitewashed walls, a pantry that had wooden shelves all round and where all manner of pickles and preserves were stored, in the corner was a huge earthenware container with a wooden top about three feet across, this was where the wine was brewed from the black and white grapes that had been thinned out from the grapevines. When we were young we lay in bed at night and listen to the gentle popping and gurgling noise of the wine brewing. Eggs were stored for winter use in isinglass liquid, jam was made and stored with many large jars of runner beans that had been salted down and preserved, soft fruits were bottled, and I remember that the pantry was a place of great richness.
Not only did the cottage have stone floors but also very steep stairs, the toilets were earth type and the buckets had to be emptied at regular intervals, the estate was large, stretching from the main road down to the valley below, and from the church to the village school.
The grounds of this school were a sight to behold and my father took great pride in his work, both in produce and in the flower gardens, there was an old terrace of houses in disrepair near by that were used for storing fruit and vegetables, (Now rebuilt and inhabited) the bottom, or northerly end was used to keep ducks, Khaki-Campbell ducks, my job was to fetch the eggs everyday.
There were orchards of apples and plums, with great areas planted with every kind of vegetable, we also kept poultry for eggs and for the oven, and this was sometimes supplemented with rabbit. Now and then when there had been a pheasant shoot, my father who had been in a gang of beaters would hide a shot pheasant and come back for it later. The wages for this job were bad, and often the owner would forget about paying his staff, causing a great deal of distress, we kept young pigs and fed them on school waste, sometimes my father would slaughter a pig and the village would share in the spoils. .
For a young boy, the life was ideal, I went fishing from the cliff edge and at many other coves along the cliffs, I climbed the cliffs for miles and played truant far too often for my own good.
When it was wet in the summer and I was not at school, I would sometimes go and knock on the door of the lighthouse, where I was always made welcome (after being told off for playing truant). I attended the village school, though it must be said that I learned very little there, I spent far more time with the prep school boys of the estate and there was imbibed with my love for cricket from one of the tutors and the other prep school teachers.
This was a life of pure magic and one I look back on with great deal of satisfaction.
This young mans idyllic existence of roaming the woods and hills, exploring the cliffs and fishing off dancing ledge in the summer was shortly to be brought to an abrupt halt. I left school at the age of fourteen and started work at the "Home and Colonial stores" as a counter assistant, a job that never suited me, I felt it was a complete waste of time, then one day, on the way home on my bike, I had got as far as a mile from home when I heard through a cottage window, the Prime Ministers broadcast on the wireless that war had been declared. At first it did not seem to be important, though I had always taken a great deal of interest in current affairs, the import of what had happened did not really strike home.
Later, when the Germans started their bombing raids, the message did get borne! We watched them as they came over the coast, low, and in black formations. Coming from country stock, the family were patriotic and took pride in Britain and the Royal Family; it was then that I felt that I had to do something to help my country in the coming struggle.

Off to War!
First time away from home.

My home town, in those days, had a cinema and one day there was a short film being shown, asking young men to train as Engineers to help with the war effort. I felt that here was my chance to do my bit, I promptly signed on, left home, and travelled to Southampton where I took a course in Engineering. Billeted at Shirley, I was quickly introduced to the realities of war, at that time the "Blitz" was on and the first night there, our living quarters were bombed. I then realized that we needed to give everything, if we were to survive as a Nation. I then joined the Home Guard. Later I moved again to Waterloo road. They looked after me and I was made very comfortable, I sometimes look back at that time with gratitude. When not on duty I spent the night in the Air raid shelter in the garden with the landladies married daughter, her husband being on night shift at the Spitfire factory.
Life now became an existence of long hours of work, coupled with a quick dash back to our lodgings to change into Home Guard uniform before the nightly raids started, most times, the sirens would wail at dusk and the raids continued for many hours through the short summer nights, sometimes not getting the "All Clear" till dawn. During the night and while the raids were on, we helped rescue those who had been bombed and were often given the task of searching for unexploded bombs, or time delayed bombs, searching behind the dock area and down the railway line. Not only looking for where bombs had dropped, but also looking in the trees, as sometimes a "Land mine" on a parachute, would be caught on the branches.
In those days it was the practice to move people about where they were needed, (something like a move in the public interest). A letter arrived one day telling me to report to another Engineering workshop in another district. Lodgings were found with for me with a local couple and where, "Bless them" they looked after me very well, I started work in the Engineering workshops immediately. The working hours were long and I continued with my Home Guard duties. Those Guard duties at that time were mainly to keep a "mine watch" at night, on the end of the new quay in Poole harbour, then to record the compass bearing of the splash of the mine as it hit 'the water. Coupled with other training, life was all work and duties. Our only time for leisure being Saturday, after work, when my friends and I would go out for a drink, then on to a theatre, cheapest seats!
During my time at this workshop I worked very hard and got on very well there. I gained many skills, eventually being given two men to work under me assembling the engineering components, we were paid by piece work and it was the practice for the senior man to make his apprentice's an allowance from his own wages. The going rate was two and sixpence, I paid my two men five shillings, (in those days worth having) In doing so, I was able to earn more myself! All of the time, I felt that I had to join the army and fight for my Country, I had no illusions, but like many young men, I needed to do my bit for freedom.

The Real Army.
Why so far away?

Eventually, and even though in a reserved occupation, I got my calling up papers. I had always wanted to join the Royal Engineers and had stated that quite forcibly when interviewed by the military. Two of us had our calling up papers, when the managing director heard about it he sent for both of us, and in a heated exchange informed us that we would be doing a great deal more for our Country by remaining at work. The other fellow agreed, the Director lifted the phone and made a call, after a short while his call up was cancelled and he went straight back to work. I refused and explained that I wanted to do my bit, the Director was quite angry, but I insisted and he gave in with very bad grace. I was told to report to Newcastle and in my Home Guard uniform, the journey was an adventure, I had never been far from home and with the trains being held up by bombing it took me 36 hours to get there. Having to wait all night for a train that left in the morning I was helped by the Salvation Army who found me somewhere to sleep, (good old Sally Ann).
Gosforth! Newcastle. Basic training, then on to Clithero in Lancashire for Royal Engineer training at No 1 Training battalion in an old mill.
All of a sudden this innocent and unworldly youth found himself in this old Mill, The beds were bunks, two tier, and there I met someone who I became good friends with, George Guy. George took the top bunk and Brian Guy took the bottom, we got our late passes together and more or less stuck together the whole of our training time.
Everything was run efficiently and always by Bugle. The Assault course was long and difficult and really only for young men, the older fellows could not cope with the difficulties of walking on 2 inch wide catwalks, I2 feet high and slippery, or all the other obstacles that had to be crossed, later, the course entailed crossing the river Ribble twice, once over a kapok assault bridge and the second time lower down the bank where we had to cross slippery tree trunks while the instructors threw explosive charges underneath you while you were crossing.
Route marches were carried out and every morning before breakfast we had to run 7 miles in boots and PT gear. I did not mind the running; I had taken part in 220, 440 and 880 yard races before, and had won medals at Poole stadium. But! Having to run in step and in boots was a completely different matter. During the route marches I often marched behind George and can still see the sweat on the back of his neck!
Training included being sent out on to the moors to live on what we could find, The high moors are absolutely desolate and a truly God forsaken place. The only sound being the weird howling of the wind and the continuous cry of "Peewits”. Luckily we found an old cow shed building high on the moors and used that to sleep, We had to use the straw that was available and to the end of my life I will remember that terrible stench of cattle in the straw. While we were on this exercise no one had told us where we should not go, so we made our way down across the moors and found a village where we bought beer and food.
George and myself became separated on draft (He came from Balham by the way) When we were in Normandy I made several inquiries about his whereabouts, and one told me that he had lost his life when a shell landed in his landing craft.
The training there was comprehensive and thorough, but nothing could ever take the place of real action, so in some respects, we were unprepared for what was to come, we had not really come to terms with, or had any real idea, of what war was really like, to be honest we were very green. Worse still, most of us were country lads and were not "Worldly wise" After our R.E. training, off down to Kent, somewhere near Hythe, we spent some time in what were known as concentration camps, under canvas and guarded, and not allowed to speak to anyone. We all lined up with our jam jars at the back of the village pub for a drink of beer, but were guarded while we waited. Later we were issued with French invasion money and none of us had any illusions of what lay in wait for us.

For me this is where I couldn't put the book down and had to read pages several times just to make sure I really understood what Brian had wrote, it really is an enthralling book that I felt I was reading about a soldier and not the War.
I hope you enjoy these abstracts as much as I enjoyed reading Brian’s book.

Shall we see England again?
Many young men would not

We embarked at Newhaven, inside the harbour the sea looked reasonable, but as we left the entrance the picture changed, and it was rough, very rough. I shall always remember the sight of hundreds of self-heating soup cans floating inside the harbour where they had been tossed overboard.
We sailed our way first to Southampton, then after joining the huge circle of ships known as Piccadilly Circus, straight across the channel to Normandy, I was happy enough in this weather being used to boats and the sea, but Oh dear! Many of those aboard wanted to die from sea-sickness. When someone called, "tea up ", I hurried down below and when I returned I found a Soldier kneeling in front of my kit being sea-sick all over it, I thought at the time "this is a fine way to free Festung Europa."
In this narrative, I shall try to relate only those things that made a deep impression on the minds of a nineteen-year-old Country-man and his friends, caught up in the greatest military invasion the world has seen! I shall try not to write about the planning of the invasion, or repeat what has been described time and time again. I shall concentrate entirely on memories and events that stuck in the minds of very ordinary young men. Just five of many thousands of ordinary men and women, who went off to fight for their country, in my case, a Sapper who was fortunate to serve with 246 Field Co R.E. That valiant band of brothers. A tiny, insignificant little cog, in a very big war machine.
The excerpts from the pen of my Friends, serve well to describe war and it's horrors, and in all it's phases, much better than I. For many of us Veterans, there are names that are virtually engraved on our soul, Queen Red, Queen White, Hennanville, Benouville, Blainville, Lebisey, La Londe, Caen, Goodwood, Colombelles, Troarn, The river Orne and Canal. So many names that will never be forgotten by those who fought in Normandy. Bloody Normandy.

The Invasion Warning to Occupied Europe.
At Last. At Last

Prior to our landings there had to be adequate warning to the people of occupied France Belgium and Holland of the coming invasion. There had been messages passed over the radio in code to resistance groups for some considerable time during the years of occupation, messages that made little sense except to those who knew the code. "Uncle amos lost his teacups". "The river runs high today". "Francoise is thirty one". In preparation for the coming invasion the early warning message was to be a verse from a French poet. Verlain.
The first warning to be broadcast was to inform the population that the invasion was to take place shortly. The second broadcast to inform the people the invasion was to take place NOW. There has seldom been a broadcast with such momentous import, signalling the death of thousands of men and the destruction of the Norman Countryside.

The first warning in French was as follows:

"Les sllnglots longs des violons de Autumne"
Translated as:
"The long sobs of the violins of Autumn"
The second warning telling Europe that the invasion was to take place now was:
"Blessant mon coure d,un langouer monotone"
Translated as:
"Bless my heart with monotonous langour"

Somehow these words seem to reflect the magnitude of the events that were to follow.
The invasion by a mighty fleet, valiant deeds, many that went unrecognized, and the freeing of the enslaved peoples of occupied Europe. For us elderly Veterans who took part it was a great endeavour.
What ever happens to us, we shall always be aware that we had a part in the shaping of history, we took part in those mighty battles, battles, where men died for what was right! Eventually, resulting in the freeing of the enslaved people of the continent from the evil disease of the Nazi yoke. Seldom in our long history could there have been a better cause than this. i am very proud to have taken part in this great crusade.