Chapter 15
Shells and Propaganda

While waiting for the river Rapido to be crossed by the main assault forces the Battalion dug into defensive positions on our side of the river. Since the carrier platoon stayed close to the HQ platoon we followed them to an old burnt out farm house which was to serve as the head quarters for our OC.Every day for 3 hours Jerry artillery would zero their Moaning Minnies in on the Battalion area. Moaning Minnies was the troops name for the German 150mm Nebelwerfer which was a six barreled mortar which made a terrible moaning sound as they fell from the sky. The noise itself was terrifying enough with out having to worry about where they would land. The 150mm projectile weighed approximately 75lbs and had a range of approximately 7,300 yds.

The carrier platoon had made its home in the farms pig-sty which we had washed out all the muck that the previous occupants (pigs) had left behind. Our new home from home was cozy and warm but most of all it was worth its weight in gold during the daily shelling as it offered the best protection from all the shrapnel flying around out side. Except for a direct hit we felt totally safe. Soon word got round the Battalion that the carrier platoon had the safest billet in the area and gradually more and more troops pushed their way in our little heave each new bombardment. Hugie suggested we charge an entrance fee.

Some of the mortars that were landing around us did not explode but released propaganda leaflets that the Germans were sending over our lines to try and make allied soldiers scared and dessert. We would pick these up after the shelling and have a good laugh at them. No one took what they had to say on them seriously and most came to a terrible end being used as toilet paper at the latrines. I did however manage to save a few of them. The daily shelling started to ware peoples nerves down and soon we had our first case of shell shock. Driver MacFalen refused to leave the pig-sty one day after a very intense period of shelling. We tried every thing to get him out even threatening to get the sergeant major to sort him out but he sat in there crying and saying " I'm noow going ought here again".

The other lads thought I'd have the best chance of trying to get him to come out so I went in and stayed with him for two hours calmly talking to him and eventually persuaded him to come out. Later that day the MO (Medical Officer) arrived and took him away. He was still crying as they loaded him on the jeep. We never saw him again. He wasn't a coward its just that the constant noise of the shelling had finally got to his nerves and he'd just snapped. I was to see this happen many more times to mates of mine before the war ended.