Hi - This is my first post so please bear with me. I'd like to share an incredible story of a legend who remains alive and well in his native New Zealand at 95 - former kiwi battalion commander Haddon Donald.
.jpg)
His book can be read for free here, http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/schol...i-HadInPe.html
But I'll let his words tell the story.
CRETE - (After he'd been shot through the groin the day before)
"Suddenly, a loud roar came from behind me and, looking over my shoulder I saw, to my consternation, a huge German plane skimming the top of the ridge I was crossing. I had just replaced my Tommy gun magazine with a full 50 round drum and had time, as this Junkers 52 troop carrier lumbered towards me about 30 yards away, to aim first at one of the motors, then at the cockpit with a burst into each. I then kept my finger on the trigger and watched the bullet holes appear evenly spaced along the fuselage at about the chest height of the helmeted troops whose heads I could see peering anxiously out of each porthole. The last bullet landed on the tail and the plane flew on and disappeared over the next ridge. It was months before I heard this episode had been witnessed by a number of our troops who had watched the plane crash on the other side of the ridge and had covered it with a Bren gun. No Germans emerged so, presumably, they were all killed — about 20 soldiers and crew. This was the second aircraft I had shot down from the ground within 12 hours and the first time I had heard of a plane being shot down with a short range Tommy gun."
"Just ahead of me in the watercourse lay a dead Cretan alongside an equally dead donkey which had a pigskin full of wine slung on either side of it. While contemplating my predicament with bullets spitting over my back, I suddenly saw a jet of red wine spout out from one of the pigskins. A bullet had gone through it and this lovely red wine started trickling down the watercourse towards me. It gradually collected in pools which were overflowing and trickling on in my direction. A pool formed about a yard ahead of me but didn't overflow, and I was thirsty. Dare I move forward on my belly? Could I resist it? They had stopped shooting at me so I wriggled forward. Nectar of the Gods! It was the sweetest drink I've had to this day, and it was taken from a roadside puddle."
"To my surprise, I saw a line of about 30 Germans spread out across the hillside above us about 500 yards away and coming in our direction. My Tommy gun was no good at that distance but Barney had a German Mauser rifle and some ammunition. German ammunition was more plentiful than our own so it was commonplace to use their weapons. It was time to see whether the sniper's course at Bisley six months before had sharpened my eye. Another New Zealander — Sergeant Boag of Invercargill — and I had passed out first and second in the shooting events at that course, so now I borrowed Barney's rifle and he acted as spotter with his field glasses. I was used to shooting bullseyes at 900 and 1,000 yards so this distance was quite good.“Got that one!” cried Barney excitedly. “There's another one five yards to the left — got him! They've gone to ground.” He located a few more for me over the next 10 minutes or so I had more success. It was quite exhilarating and I found myself enjoying it with no thought whatsoever about the lives I was taking. I do not think I am normally callous but am sure my war experience reduced my regard for human life very considerably. Today nothing would make me press that trigger."
AFRICA
"We drew plenty of fire and a bullet from one burst grazed my forehead while another creased my helmet deeply, spun me round and threw me dazed onto the ground. However, I soon recovered and we made our way back over the ridge to safety with the mission successfully accomplished. I treasured that helmet until it got lost in the fog of war. It had undoubtedly saved my life. After lying motionless for 10 minutes, as I was very exposed, I got up and ran for the cover of the ridge, passing close to a burnt out British tank. Wham, wham — I was startled to see red hot 88 millimetre missiles passing within inches of me. I ran faster to the protection of the ridge, realising later that the German gunner had been aiming at the tank and not at a sole, lonely figure running for dear life."
"On reaching company headquarters I removed my pack to find out what damage had been done. A machine gun bullet had passed through a magazine full of Tommy gun ammunition without exploding them and had lodged in my back. I could hear a grating noise when I wriggled my back as a projection of bone on my vertebrae had been broken off. A visit from Tom Campbell spelled the end of my Alamein battle as he sent me back to have my wounds attended to. In the process of being evacuated, after I was put on a Bren carrier with several other wounded, the driver backed onto a mine which exploded right beneath me. The concussion knocked me out cold. It had been a brief battle for me but an eventful one and I was taken to a British hospital in Alexandria where the bullet, which had lodged behind my spine, was cut out."
ITALY
"I was fast losing my patience with the SS types in the Tribunale. but decided to have one more go at offering them safe conduct. We did not think much of their chances of survival if they were taken prisoner by the Yugoslavs, but neither did we want to suffer any casualties in our final attempts to end the conflict. Terry McLean, my adjutant, could speak some German and by this time an Austrian civilian had joined us to act as an interpreter. The three of us, under a better constructed white flag this time, marched once more across the Square to parley with the Germans. It was almost a repeat of the previous performance but this time we told them that, if they did not surrender, we would surround the building with tanks and blow it apart. The answer was “We won't surrender to any bastard” and the door slammed in our faces once again. That settled it and back we went to headquarters — that long march all over again, thank goodness without incident. I gathered up all the tanks I could muster from the 19th and 20th Regiments, 18 in all, and placed them strategically round the building on the Square, in side streets and at the rear."
Incidentally, Haddon stopped shooting - and he was still putting bulls on the target - in New Zealand's premier shooting competition, The Ballinger Belt 4 years ago. He was 91 at the time. Take a look if you dont believe me!
His book can be read for free here, http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/schol...i-HadInPe.html
But I'll let his words tell the story.
CRETE - (After he'd been shot through the groin the day before)
"Suddenly, a loud roar came from behind me and, looking over my shoulder I saw, to my consternation, a huge German plane skimming the top of the ridge I was crossing. I had just replaced my Tommy gun magazine with a full 50 round drum and had time, as this Junkers 52 troop carrier lumbered towards me about 30 yards away, to aim first at one of the motors, then at the cockpit with a burst into each. I then kept my finger on the trigger and watched the bullet holes appear evenly spaced along the fuselage at about the chest height of the helmeted troops whose heads I could see peering anxiously out of each porthole. The last bullet landed on the tail and the plane flew on and disappeared over the next ridge. It was months before I heard this episode had been witnessed by a number of our troops who had watched the plane crash on the other side of the ridge and had covered it with a Bren gun. No Germans emerged so, presumably, they were all killed — about 20 soldiers and crew. This was the second aircraft I had shot down from the ground within 12 hours and the first time I had heard of a plane being shot down with a short range Tommy gun."
"Just ahead of me in the watercourse lay a dead Cretan alongside an equally dead donkey which had a pigskin full of wine slung on either side of it. While contemplating my predicament with bullets spitting over my back, I suddenly saw a jet of red wine spout out from one of the pigskins. A bullet had gone through it and this lovely red wine started trickling down the watercourse towards me. It gradually collected in pools which were overflowing and trickling on in my direction. A pool formed about a yard ahead of me but didn't overflow, and I was thirsty. Dare I move forward on my belly? Could I resist it? They had stopped shooting at me so I wriggled forward. Nectar of the Gods! It was the sweetest drink I've had to this day, and it was taken from a roadside puddle."
"To my surprise, I saw a line of about 30 Germans spread out across the hillside above us about 500 yards away and coming in our direction. My Tommy gun was no good at that distance but Barney had a German Mauser rifle and some ammunition. German ammunition was more plentiful than our own so it was commonplace to use their weapons. It was time to see whether the sniper's course at Bisley six months before had sharpened my eye. Another New Zealander — Sergeant Boag of Invercargill — and I had passed out first and second in the shooting events at that course, so now I borrowed Barney's rifle and he acted as spotter with his field glasses. I was used to shooting bullseyes at 900 and 1,000 yards so this distance was quite good.“Got that one!” cried Barney excitedly. “There's another one five yards to the left — got him! They've gone to ground.” He located a few more for me over the next 10 minutes or so I had more success. It was quite exhilarating and I found myself enjoying it with no thought whatsoever about the lives I was taking. I do not think I am normally callous but am sure my war experience reduced my regard for human life very considerably. Today nothing would make me press that trigger."
AFRICA
"We drew plenty of fire and a bullet from one burst grazed my forehead while another creased my helmet deeply, spun me round and threw me dazed onto the ground. However, I soon recovered and we made our way back over the ridge to safety with the mission successfully accomplished. I treasured that helmet until it got lost in the fog of war. It had undoubtedly saved my life. After lying motionless for 10 minutes, as I was very exposed, I got up and ran for the cover of the ridge, passing close to a burnt out British tank. Wham, wham — I was startled to see red hot 88 millimetre missiles passing within inches of me. I ran faster to the protection of the ridge, realising later that the German gunner had been aiming at the tank and not at a sole, lonely figure running for dear life."
"On reaching company headquarters I removed my pack to find out what damage had been done. A machine gun bullet had passed through a magazine full of Tommy gun ammunition without exploding them and had lodged in my back. I could hear a grating noise when I wriggled my back as a projection of bone on my vertebrae had been broken off. A visit from Tom Campbell spelled the end of my Alamein battle as he sent me back to have my wounds attended to. In the process of being evacuated, after I was put on a Bren carrier with several other wounded, the driver backed onto a mine which exploded right beneath me. The concussion knocked me out cold. It had been a brief battle for me but an eventful one and I was taken to a British hospital in Alexandria where the bullet, which had lodged behind my spine, was cut out."
ITALY
"I was fast losing my patience with the SS types in the Tribunale. but decided to have one more go at offering them safe conduct. We did not think much of their chances of survival if they were taken prisoner by the Yugoslavs, but neither did we want to suffer any casualties in our final attempts to end the conflict. Terry McLean, my adjutant, could speak some German and by this time an Austrian civilian had joined us to act as an interpreter. The three of us, under a better constructed white flag this time, marched once more across the Square to parley with the Germans. It was almost a repeat of the previous performance but this time we told them that, if they did not surrender, we would surround the building with tanks and blow it apart. The answer was “We won't surrender to any bastard” and the door slammed in our faces once again. That settled it and back we went to headquarters — that long march all over again, thank goodness without incident. I gathered up all the tanks I could muster from the 19th and 20th Regiments, 18 in all, and placed them strategically round the building on the Square, in side streets and at the rear."
Incidentally, Haddon stopped shooting - and he was still putting bulls on the target - in New Zealand's premier shooting competition, The Ballinger Belt 4 years ago. He was 91 at the time. Take a look if you dont believe me!
Comment