Brief van Bob Clarke naar zijn broer Douglas Clarke

Brief van Bob Clarke naar zijn broer Douglas Clarke, 14 ocotober 1944 alleen scans en uitgetypt, geschonken door dochter en schoonzoon van Bob Clarke nadat ze hoorden dat een eerdere brief van Bob Clarke aan zijn moeder was opgenomen in Liberation Route luistersteen 125, in het dorpje Zeeland (Brabant) Letter from Bob Clarke to his brother Douglas Clarke 157B Dunstans Road East Dulwich London SE 22 14 October 1944 Dear Doug I’m sorry that I Haven’t answered your letter before, but I was so busy last month that I hardly had time to write to Gwen. I located your unit when you were in Normandy—I used to land near you quite often but I was never long enough on the deck to get over to see you. Your camp must have been Practically on the circuit of the L.G. I may run across you even yet. I suppose you’re eager to hear about my little “do”, so here goes. I was shot down near Nijmegen by a shower of FW190s. We were on our way home after dropping our stuff (you can guess where) and we were jumped by 25 of the so and so’s I can’t say that we fought them because as you know we carry no guns but we dodged around and tried to make cloud cover. Only four of them registered hits on us before we reached a bit of cloud. We were on fire, but not badly and we might have escaped if the cloud had not run out. Ten of them picked us up again and got in two more bursts – the last one a very long one – and we really started burning and went into a dive which the pilot couldn’t control. The four army boys who were with us baled out without any trouble and so did my wireless op. for they were already down the back near the door. I had a great deal of difficulty getting back because we were diving almost vertically. The fighters got in two more bursts while I was struggling towards the door and it was then that I was wounded by cannon shell splinters. I didn’t notice much – just a stinging feeling in the leg and face and I thought no more about it till I reached the ground. When I reached the door I had a lot of trouble forcing myself through It for we had a lot of g on and we must have been doing around 300 mph by then After I’d managed to get more than half my body out the slipstream helped me and I go clear. I experienced a dizzy falling sensation for I hadn’t been able to jump in the approved manner and I was spinning and somersaulting. I almost fainted but managed to straighten out and reach for the ripcord. I had my ‘chute on arse about face but I realised that when my right hand couldn’t find the ripcord and I got it and pulled it with my left hand –losing my wedding ring in the process. I felt it slip over my finger-tip but couldn’t quite catch it. The ‘chute opened beautifully there was quite a jerk but no rupture and I found myself between two and three thousand feet up and apparently stationary in mid air. I was jus beginning to breathe again and starting to wonder whether I’d land on our side of the line or on Jerry’s, when I heard a lot more cannon fire and saw 6 of the 190s strafing two of the boys on their ‘chutes. I pulled my shroud lines to accelerate my descent but, of course, they were somewhat faster than I was and came over and had a go at me. I don’t know how they missed. I saw the flames from their gun muzzles when they were about 400 yards away and I closed my eyes and yanked like hell on my shroud lines, causing myself to swing and drop faster. Perhaps that saved me. I counted the six of them by sound as they went by – I daren’t open my eyes! The second time they strafed me I did the same thing and when they came round for a third attack I felt a little more confident and found that anger was superseding my first panic. I kept my eye on them and when I estimated that the leader was about to open fire I pulled with both hands on one shroud line as hard as I could so that I swung to the inside of their turn in. I swung at least 15 or 20 feet to one side and saw the tracer going past. Of course, I swung back and that nearly finished me because I nearly hit the last plane as he came by. His slipstream collapsed my ‘chute and I dropped to about 500 feet before it opened again. It shook me considerably but it got me down faster. I did a nice landing without hurting myself and was getting clear of my harness when four of the fighters came in to have a final go at me on the ground. They were having to turn very steeply to reach me and I rolled away as fast as I could go to the inside of their turn again. They missed me – I saw their cannon strikes about 5 yards away on the grass between a couple of very indignant cows. I hid my ‘chute and the vest in a ditch –they were too conspicuous – and tried to pull myself together and take stock of my surroundings. I found then that I was limping – it felt like a stiff muscle in my thigh and I was also swearing like a trooper. I found a path beside the field in which I had landed but both sides of it were blocked by people. I was trying to decide what to do when I saw a girl waving to me from a farmhouse. I thought I ‘d risk it and went over to her. She took me in and I found one of our army boys there bathing his wounds which were slight like mine. Practically the whole village congregated around us and I finally found the chap who spoke a little English. I learned from him that the ferries had pulled out 36 hours previously and that we were about 7 miles from Nijmegen and two miles from the spearhead road along which our army was advancing. I got him to send someone on a bike to the road to intercept a convoy and get an ambulance if possible. While we were waiting I patched myself up. I had three small punctures in the leg and one in my face. Soon I gathered the news that only 6 parachutes had come out of our kite which had crashed a little distance away. That meant that the two pilots were either killed by the cannon fire or that they just couldn’t get clear – god knows I had a hard enough job. The other chaps had landed nearby and I went to round them up. I found one of the army boys horribly shot up. They had got him on his parachute and he took about half an hour to die, conscious and in great pain that we were unable to soothe. Another of army boys was wounded on his ‘chute. He had nine holes in him but he’ll get over it, I’m told. The fourth was also wounded but only slightly. I couldn’t find my wireless op. The ambulance arrived and took us to a medical post at Graves where they had an unidentified body which they asked me to look at. It was my wireless op. alright. He was riddled with bullets from head to foot and, not only had they shot him, but they had ripped his parachute so that he fell the last thousand feet like a stone. It was a ghastly sight but I was able to identify him. I left the army boys at the medical post, concealing my wounds, and got on the road to hitch hike back to base. I got a jeep that was going to Eindhoven. It was a pretty grim ride. The road was under fire in places and by the flak where seemed to be considerable enemy air activity. However, nothing came too close to us and we reached Eindhoven that night, frozen stiff from fright and the draughty ride. I got a bed in hospital there (still concealing my wounds so that I could get back to base and try and stop the casualty notices going off.) I didn’t sleep at all that night, the noise of battle too close and I was too jumpy. I continued my hitch hiking next morning and had a wonderful piece of luck after reaching the Escaut Canal. I got a staff car all the way to Brussels. I knew where the ’drome was for I’ve been to Brussels several times and I was lucky enough to get a plane back to Blighty right away. I reached base 27 hours after I baled out and managed to get the casualty notices stopped en route, thank God. If I had been half an hour later, Gwen would have had that shock. They kept me in dock a couple of days for I was just about all in. The X-ray showed that I have seven splinters in my leg which are being left there as they don’t trouble me over much. I had seven days sick leave and when I went back I go to my 9 days privilege leave for which I was due. This is my last day. I don’t know what I ‘ll do now because I‘m the only survivor of the crew. Maybe I’ll get posted. While I was on leave I met our new sister-in-law! You’ve got an awful shock coming, Doug! I won’t attempt to describe her but I’ll let you see for yourself. Gerry’s done some daft things in his life but this beats everything! As this is the last sheet of paper I’ll sign off. Look after yourself and all the best. Hope to see you soon Bob