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My name is SYKES, Bill Sykes, a nickname derived from the character in Charles Dickens Classic novel, "Oliver Twist".

I was a member of the Durham Light Infantry for a very short period of time, from the 27th of January 1943 through the 8th of September 1943 before transferring to British Airborne Forces with whom I served for the next six years.

On with the story

"MEMORIES OF A YOUNG SOLDIERS LIFE, BEFORE AND AFTER SERVING WITH THE DURHAM LIGHT INFANTRY".

FOR KING AND COUNTRY - (OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT)

Firstly, for the unitiated, some background information.

This is an account of the World War Two experiences of a young man born on the 14th of December 1925, in the northern industrial town of Huddersfield, in the County of Yorkshire, England.

This story really starts for me on Sunday the 3rd of September 1939, the day that war was declared by the British Government against Germany.
As a young boy of thirteen years of age, as I sat listening to the BBC radio broadcast at eleven o'clock on the morning of the third of September 1939, the chilling words of Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain came over the air waves with the message "The Army of the Third Reich has marched into Poland and consequently we are at war with Germany".

I was vaguely familiar with the events in Europe leading up to this moment, but I must admit that those words filled me more with a feeling of excitement, than a realization of the horrors that the world was about to witness.
Due to my youthful optimism, or my lack of a realistic approach to the seriousness of the situation, I failed to recognize that in a matter of a few years I myself would be very much involved in a personal fight to survive the rigors of war.

That very night, the air raid sirens sounded for the first time, (albeit a false alarm), and the early elation of the morning suddenly turned to one of concern for personal safety. In Britain, the early years of the war for the civilian population were centered mainly around the deprivations of rationing, (which involved food, clothing, petrol, and most of the everyday necessities), plus the inconvenience of the eternal blackouts. The people of Britain somberly watched the German invasion of the Low Countries, (Belgium/Holland), and the fall of France, leading to the dramatic evacuation from Dunkerque of members of the British Expeditionary Force by an armada of small ships.

During the summer months of 1940, the people of Britain had reason to celebrate the air defense of their small island by the pilots and men of the "Royal Air Force".
Those brave men, in the face of overwhelming odds, fought and defeated the mighty German Luftwaffe in what was to be known as the "Battle of Britain".

Prime Minister Winston Churchill's famous speech summed up the occasion admirably, "Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few".

Nightly bombings of the small island by the German Luftwaffe continued.
A number of major cities throughout Britain were all but obliterated, with heavy civilian casualties and enormous property destruction.
Throughout all of this, the people of Britain were steadfast in adversity and their morale remained high.

My entry into this conflict came about exactly as I'm going to describe.
I, (as a sixteen year old), due to one of many reasons, volunteered for several branches of the British Armed Forces only to be turned down because of being "under age"!!!
I found a solution to this small problem by forging my birth certificate and changing the date of my birth from the 14th December 1925 to the 14th December 1924, and to this very day my British Army records still carry that date.

Scene: Royal Marine recruiting office in the city of Leeds, Yorkshire, England, late Summer 1942, I've just been turned down for service by a towering, magnificent specimen of a Royal Marine Sergeant with the words, "You've changed your birth certificate lad, come back and re-apply when you're eighteen years of age".
Being a somewhat street smart kid, I wasn't going to be deterred by what I considered to be so insignificant a thing as a birth certificate.
So, I walked along a passageway into the Army recruiting office.
There sitting behind a desk was a very relaxed and amiable recruiting Sergeant. The warm glow emanating from this very red faced individual attested to the fact that he was obviously feeling no pain from his encounter during the lunch period with several pints of the local brew.

Dialogue:
Sergeant: "Come in son. Do you want to join up"???

Me: "Do you want to see my birth certificate Sergeant"???

Sergeant: "No son, you look old enough to me. Just sign on the dotted line, here, here, and here, - here's your five shillings, you are now a member of His Majesties Forces".

HONEST --That's exactly how it happened.

The last six weeks of 1942 was taken up by rigorous basic training at Berwick on Tweed on the Scottish Border.

Was it cold - well, if ice on the sea is cold, "IT WAS COLD"!!!