Cover page for "The True Story of a Godsoldier" by Victor Uggles
At sixteen years old in April 1936, I had my first vision of seeing myself alone on a field artillery gun in France firing at the German infantry. In 1939 War. Britain declared war on Germany.
2nd Vision April 1936. I saw myself coming home in 1946 victorious from the end of the war. Predicted that the war will last six years. I will be 26 years old. Joined T.A. on April 18 1939.
Visions, April 1936. Demobbed on March 1946.
My third vision I had, came in June 1936 coming home from work early in the morning after night work. As I entered through the gates of Guinness Buildings, Pages Walk, Bermondsey, there I saw the shed where I played when I was a boy turned into an inferno and thousands of people were going into the flames being burned alive - men, women and children. I did not know who they were. When I got home I sat down shivering in fear. I never told anyone of what I saw. It remained a secret until now
(Original photos with daughter, Jennifer) Old George. “Somewhere in France” World War I 1914-1918. Royal Fusilier. London. Old Vic. “Somewhere in France” World War II 1939=1945. Royal Artillery 365 Battery. 92nd Field Regiment. London
Section of B. Troop 365 Battery 92nd Field Regiment in training on 18 pounders at Beaulieu Camp, August 1939
(18/25 PDRS. Gun) B.Troop. 365 Battery, Road Party leaving Cheam to join B.E.F. Somewhere in France, Friday September 22nd 1939.
“B” Troop, 265th Battery gun position known as The Willows (Gort Line) Auchy. German reconnaissance plane above. Oct 13th – Dec 29th 1939.
After the third challenge “Halt. Who goes there?” No reply. I fired. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot. It’s me your Troop Commander.” France. Auchy 1939.
Defending myself against an attack from my drunken Lieut-Colonel.R.A. and his driver. Nr Orchies, Douai 1939.
My Court Martial. Sentence. No bravery awards of war medals.VC. MM. Mention in Dispatches etc. No promotions. No transfers out of the 92nd field Regiment. Extra duties. Ordered to start smoking. This punishment to last until the end of the war. Auchy, France. December 1939.
Dr J. Stanfield. The O.B.C. Prayer Bok (My bible) sent to me at Auchy 1939. Been with me throughout the war. I used it for the dying soldiers. 1940. (This Book from The Oxford & Bermondsey Club is now buried with Vic at Chislehurst Cemetery.)
365 Battery 92nd Fld.Reg.R.A. and Grenadier Guards, guarding ammunition dump for B.E.F. Sergeant Grenadier kicking our ankles. “Don’t you dare kick mine.” He did. Dec 1939.
Leaning on my rifle for support after being kicked on the ankle. I threw a right hand punch at the Sergeant Grenadier.
“Arrest that soldier and beat him up guards.” “ Stop or I will shoot.” “ Put that rifle down Gunner Uggles” ordered my gun sergeant.
One morning we had a dress inspection. During the night my best boot laces were stolen leaving me with my old oily broken laces to wear. I was put on a charge for improperly dressed on parade. “This is the fourth time you been on a charge. First not cheering the King, shooting at me in Auchy, Striking your Colonel. Now what is your excuse this time!” “ They were stolen.” “You mean you lost em.” “ No Sir, stolen. You have a thief in B.Troop, Sir.” “Guilty. 7 days & extra guard duty.” “Sir, if my bootlaces are not returned to me in 24 hours, your first soldier that slept in that billet get killed will be blamed as the thief, the rest will survive this war, Sir.” Armentieres. January 1940.
April 29th. Left Armentieres for the Somme country. April 30th was told we are going to Norway to stop the invasion of the German Army. Later we were told we cannot go. Our 15th Infantry Brigade of 5th Div. Was engaged with the enemy. We joined up with the 25th Inf/Brgde 50th Div. Travelling to Lihus on May 5th,’ troop Quad broke down. The driver waving us on to overtake. As we did so he got dragged between the Quads and squashed to death. My troop commander asked me “Is he the one that stole your bootlaces?” “Sir, you will have to wait six years when this war is over for that answer.” Lihus, May 5th 1940.
May 12th Hersin area mining village. In charge of A.A.I.M.G. Bren Gun. 1500hrs. German bomber approaching. I open fire, my first action against the enemy. A Lance Bombardier came and pulled me off the gun. “Let me have a go. Put another mag. on.” “Do it yourself. I am not your man servant.” I walked away fuming. 1940.
‘B’ Troop. 265 Battery. Going into action for the first time against the German army invasion of Belgium. Friday, May 17th Nederhasselt.
Ready for action. Under camouflage, watching the German bombers dropping their bombs on Belgium towns. Nederhasselt. May 17th 1940.
At 1500 hrs 18th Mat. All guns on SOS lines. B. Troop 365 BTY open fire for the first time against the German army, crossing River Dendre as German bombers flew over. Nederhasselt area.
Waiting for supply of ammunition for over an hour. I loaded the last shell. “Hey Serg. Where is the ammo truck, it should be here by now and where is the R.A.F. to fight of these Messerschmitt 109.9?” “Don’t know.” replied my Sergeant. Nederhasselt area, May 18th 1940.
“Where the hell have you been? We been waiting two hours for ammo.” “Got held up, refugees blocking the road. We help to give birth of a baby to Belgium woman refugee in the lorry.” “I see, the war comes to a stop waiting for a baby to be born, there not enough ammo here to kill a fly, let alone to stop the German army.” May 18th 1940.
May 19. Orders to withdraw back to France. A few miles from Vimy Ridge. The road blocked by refugees. My sergeant ask anyone handle a horse & cart. “I can, having 2 yrs experience, Serg.” “You just volunteered Gnr Uggles to move it”. I knocked out the carman and grabbed the horses reins as they were nervous of the Messerschmitt shooting down refugees to clear the road. May 20th 1940.
After 9 hrs attacking the German army, the ‘Frankforce’ advance came to an end. 22nd May. Withdraw to another position. I saw a strange enemy aircraft, a reconnaissance. I was about to shoot it down, when I was pushed over, the Bren jammed. L/BDR “Let me do it. You again. Help me to unjam it” “Do it yourself.” I walked away.
I looked back in anger at the L/BDR still trying to get the Bren gun in action. I stood still as the reconnaissance rear gunner waved to me and flew away to report. I reported what happened to my troop commander and asking for RAF support. Hour later, the 4 Stukas dive bombers came over. 22nd May, Western outskirt, Arras.
As the first bombers dropped missing us, I heard machine gun firing. Looking up I saw two spitfires fighting off the Stukas away from our gun position. I shouted out aloud with joy to the gunners, “They have arrived, there are spitfires.” I stood there watching the dog fight and thanked God for sending them in time. Arras 1940.
After seeing two Stukas and a spitfire shot down and one German pilot bailed out from his smoking plane, I watched the spitfire returning over our gun position. The RAF pilot tipped his wings in salute and I return the salute. I thought but for the mistake the L/BDR made this should not have happened. Arras.
The Arras counter attack May 20th-24th Vimy Ridge. Our op’s on the Canadian War Memorial. Gas alert. But this was a false alarm as the German artillery 105 millimetres shells landed in front of us, so a queer mist came out of the shell holes. No 4 gun ‘B’Trp 265 Batt.92nd Field REGt. La Gueule d’Ours May 23rd.
Back to Belgium for the second time in defence of Ypres, in the area of Vlamertinghe the day that Belgium capitulated. 27th May. Few miles away the Stukas were dive bombing on another troop of guns. For the second time I picked up the white flags that the Belgium soldier put there on his farm. Belgium 27th May 1940.
Returning to the farmhouse I threw the white flags inside. The Belgium soldier yelling at me in Flemish, picking up some flags and threw them in my face, saying “Piss off my land.” As he came to the door I snatched his rifle away and threw a left hook punch to his jaw, knocking him out. I broke his rifle in half. Vlamertinghe.
We were ordered to dismount and take cover during the heaviest bombing yet. Joe and I took cover under bales of hay. After 20 minutes I went back for my rifle and found that the troop has left. “Joe!” I shouted, “they have gone. The Jerries are crossing the canal.” Joe raised his arms to surrender. “No.” And dived at his legs. Ypres Canal 28th May 1940.
Pointing out to the officer. Where the German infantry landed by rubber dinghies. “Are you infantry?” I ask. “No. We are Eng/Sappers to blow the bridge up. Waiting for the German tanks to arrive on it.” “My advice to you, Sir, is to blow it up now and get out of here.” He ordered his men to face the farm and be ready. Joe and I left to find our regiment. 28th May 1940.
On the way looking for our regiment, I told Joe what the officer said that the B.E.F. army retreating to Dunkirk evacuation. I saw a barn across the fields. I heard rifles firing. Knowing the twelve ENGs were in action, surprised to find two French tanks. Trying to tell them what was happening. “Will you go and help?” “Oui, oui, bon.” Instead of turning right, they turned left in retreat. May 28th 1940.
We eventually found the regiment, reporting to my troop commander as we were reported missing and killed in action, explaining that we never heard the orders to get mounted because of heavy bombing noise and what is happening at the canal – bridge not blown up. Half an hour later No 4 gun only to withdraw to take up tank position, leaving the1914/18 war trench position. 28th May 1940.
The bridge was destroyed. Main tank battle behind the woods. Let the British tanks through then blow up the first German tank to block the track to stop them reaching the road below. Then return to ‘B’ Troop. Our troop commander left us. Half an hour later ‘A’ Troop SGT/Major arrived and ordered us to retreat and asked, “Where is your commander? The colonel gave no orders for this action.” I shouted “German tanks coming.” Sgt/Major pulled out his revolver. “Look out Sarg. He’s going to shoot you,” grabbing my rifle, withdrew not firing one shot at the tanks. May 28th 1940.
Pulling out of action we got stuck. The Quad nearside rear wheel sunk down to its axle in the mud. It took us over five minutes to get moving. The Sgt/Major shouted “Follow me.” We did. He led us right into a German infantry regiment. “Swing left,” he shouted. The Jerries were more surprised at seeing us charging towards them, they must have thought we’ve gone mad. “The Jerries are shooting at us” said our Sgt. “What do expect them to do! Blow love and kisses Sarge,” I replied. “Would you (have) shot the Sgt/Major back there, Vic?” asked Sarge. “Yes.” May 28th 1940.
Retreat to Dunkirk May 30th. On our way to Poperinghe we saw a battery of 3.7 ack-ack guns with splayed muzzles. They have been blown up. Rifles, papers and ammunition were left lying about. What a chaotic mess. Poperinghe itself was ablaze and the German’s heavy artillery shells were falling, stoking up the flames. “Hey Sarge. No wonder we have lost the battle in the air. No air force and now the B.E.F. blowing up all ack-ack guns. What the bloody hell’s going on?”
At Rosendale on 31st of May. Only seven Grenadier Guards return from the front. The rest were killed. “Have you got a Sgt. in your outfit that kicks guards’ankles?” “Yes,” replied the Corporal. Why?” “I want to kick his ankles and see how he likes being crippled for a few weeks.” “Are you the gunner that struck him down?” “Yes.” He called to the last man. “Is this the one hit our Sgt.?” “Yes, Corporal, that’s him.” “Well, your unlucky. He’s dead.” “Don’t rest here. There’s Jerry Observation Balloon over there. We’ve lost ‘A’ Trp.Guns” offering my last fags to the guards who had none.
On the morning of June 1st our Sgt/Major in Command ordered all guns to be blown up and retreat to Dunkirk. Ships will be waiting to take you home. As I was the limber gunner it was my responsibility to blow the gun up. I ran round the front with the shell. “Sarg, lower the muzzle down, I can’t ram the shell in.” The fusilier started firing his Lewis gun, keeping the German infantry at bay. I guess the Jerries were closer than we thought, the guns all blown up and the Sargts. reported so, on our way we went to Dunkirk and Blighty, thoughts of being in England again. Rosendaal. 1940.
On our way to Dunkirk we were stopped by ACT Troop Commander. “All married men fall out and go on to Dunkirk and get on the ships for blighty. The rest of you gunners have volunteered to man the last two guns of the ~Regmt. and the B.E.F. to stop the German army advance so that the B.E.F. can have more time to evacuate Dunkirk. You have thirty six rounds of ammo shared between two guns.” Two more gunners were sent back, leaving eight gunners, two Sgt’s and Sgt.Major. 1st June 1940. Flat marshes east of Dunkirk. Leffringhokke. (Leffrinckoucke)
“Gnr. Uggles, the Colonel orders for you to go back to Rosendaal and bow up No1 and 2 guns. The machine gunner reported they have not been blown up. Misfire. He will give you cover fire. I want all your personal belongings and all your equipment left here. You have fifteen munites to do it and return. We don’t want the Germans to turn those guns on us.” “Sir, I want to take my rifle and ammo., my O.B.C. prayer book.” “No.” The officer replied. “Then I don’t go. Send the Sgt. who’s responsible for their own guns.” “Very well,” said the officer. “ A gun Quad will take you there. 1st June 1940. Leffrinckoucke.
Arriving at the farm Rosendaal, I told the driver to turn the vehicle ready to leave in five minutes, keep the engine running. As I got near the barn the Lewis gunner from the fusiliers came out. ”Are you the limber gunner come to blow up those two guns that had misfired?” “Yes and you are to give me cover fire.” “Sorry mate, I had no ammo left and blown the gun up. I’ll give you a hand.” “No. You done your job, make your way to Dunkirk and get a ship home. How far away are the Jerries?” “About 200yds. “You will see my officer on the way, tell him what’s going on up here.”
After blowing up No2 gun successfully, I went to No1 gun, opened the breech and removed the misfire charge. Saw that the shell was there, put a new charge in, picked up the lanyards and ran to the trench and pulled. The gun fired but there was no double explosion, that I knew something has gone wrong. Opening the breech, I look inside the lining. There was no damage. I went round the front of the gun, the shell fell out of the muzzle. I bent down to pick it up then I heard buzzing noise. I looked behind and saw the German infantry regiment charging towards me and shooting approximately 80 yards.
I ran behind the gun, reloaded, lowered the muzzle to waist level and fired at the German infantry blasting them to pieces but they were still coming forward. I quickly reload and traverse the muzzle over to the right approximately four degrees and fired, killing and wounding most of the infantry. At point blank range it stopped them advancing. “Serve you bloody well right,’ I thought “for shooting at me when my back was turned, I was about to put a shell into the muzzle to blow the gun up.” Morning 1st June 1940.
When my driver ‘Ginger’ called out again “The Jerries are coming around the bend of the road, Vic. Hurry up.” he shouted. I reloaded the gun, traversing back the gun muzzle to the left not reaching the target. I picked up the gun trail and heaved it over another two degrees levelling the muzzle to the edge where the bend of the road. Seeing German infantry advancing, I fired again blasting the area. Now my vision I had in Guinness Bldgs, Bermondsey 1936 come true, fighting and killing and wounding the German army single handed with an artillery gun. But my fighting was not over. 1 June 1940.
I quickly ran to the front of the gun and picked up the shell and rammed it into the muzzle before the Jerries had time to recover from my last gunfire, then I reloaded, picking up my rifle and lanyards already attached to the trigger handle. I ran for the trench. Shooting started again as I felt the wind of the bullets passing me. I jumped and turned so I would face my enemy in the trench. As I did so I pulled the lanyards praying there will not be another misfire, as the Jerries were closing in on me. A double explosion succeeded blowing up No1 gun in the face of the enemy and several Jerries going down.
“Come on Vic, hurry up. The Germans are coming up the road,” shouted my driver. “I am coming now Ginger, get ready,” I shouted back, leaping out of the slit trench and picking up a lanyard knowing that there wasn’t any left in the troop to blow up anymore guns. As I began to race towards the gun Quad, Rosendaal gun positions reminds me of the willows positions at Auchy. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted as again I felt the wind of bullets passing me. Some of the German infantry survived the onslaught of the 25 pounder gun. “Achtung” I never did understand their language.
As I raced towards the vehicle, zigzagging and ducking down as the guns and limbers the trees gave me some protection against the German infantry started shooting at me. I must have broken all world records at 100 yards, my strength and energy beginning to sap away owing to not having any hot food or tea since May17th, only half a tin of cornbeef a day and a hard biscuit that would break your teeth in half. On reaching the door I looked down the road to see how far away they weren aout 40yeards, some fixing a canon and another firing at me, bullet hitting the door. “Let’s get out the hell out of here, Ginger.”
On reaching the Quad vehicle I looked to the right to see how far the Germans are and to my surprise they were so close, about 30 to 50 yards I saw a group fixing up and canon and others began to shoot at me. I shouted at Ginger “Get the hell out of here.” Closing the door behind me, a bullet struck it. “I am going up to have a look,Ginger.” “My hair is red not ginger. I am called Red”, he replied ironically. Shot down the first German in the group, then two shots at the one in the ditch. Then I shot down Lance Corporal crossing over the road. I aimed and missed the German the otherside then shot down the last one in the group. My gun was empty. I got down to reload.
“Don’t go up again Vic, you will get your head shot off. There’s too many of them we are lucky so far.” “OK Red. Look in your mirror, see what’s going on.” “I can’t, they shot it to pieces.” As we began to pick up speed an explosion on the right side of the Quad. “What was that?” said Red. “It’s a mortar shell.” “So that’s what it was, a mortar cannon.” Another exploded and the Quad began to swerve out of control. “We got punctures and the brakes have failed,” said Red. “Crash into the next tree on the left so we can jump into the field for cover.” Grabbing the steering wheel, helping Red to turn the wheels left, slammed in low gear to slow it down. Crashed. Fire and smoke. “Jump, Red, jump.”
As we ran, shells began to explode. We dived into the edge for cover. With my face pressed into the earth I called out, “Oh Mother of God, help me, what shall I do?!” Then a voice boomed out, saying, “You are my brave Godsoldier. You have a job of work to do for me. You must leave this place now and save yourself and others.” I was stunned. As I looked around the fields in no man’s land, not seeing anybody, I called out to Red, “Did you hear someone calling out?” “No,” replied Red, “All I can hear is these bloody shells exploding.” I buried my face back into the earth. Again, the loud voice repeating the same message, penetrating through my body and making me shiver and shiver all over. I looked up to the sky and there it was. God. I saw God. Time stood still, and his voice telling me I am his Godsoldier, to leave and save myself and others. I saw a piece of heaven as God looked down upon me at Rossendaal (Fr. Rosendaël), France, 1940
When time stood still, as I began to shiver all over, something strange was happening to my body. Fear was creeping into me. His voice was pounding inside me, that I am his brave Godsoldier, and to save others. Then I saw shadows leaping across in heaven. I called out to Red to come closer to me. Red did so. “What’s up Vic?” “Look up there,” pointing to where God is (not looking myself). “Tell me what you can see.” “Nothing,” said Red. I looked up and there was nothing, the blue sky was closed and God had gone, but his voice still pounding inside me. “Blimey Vic, what’s happened to you? Are you feeling ill? You looked as though you seen a ghost. You gone white as a sheet. All your colour has gone. Look at your hands if you don’t believe me. What’s gone wrong with you?” asked Red. I knew now what was wrong. I have lost my soul in the face of God. 1st June 1940, the Battle of Rosendaël.
“What are we going to do, Vic?” asked Red. “We are leaving this pace now, keep to the edge for protection against these shells.” “Wouldn’t it be quicker to cross the field?” said Red. “Not bloody likely. I don’t want a Jerry’s bullet in my back. They are not far behind us, so let’s go.” I crossed over the road to find it was a river canal. “We will have to back this side,” said Red. We ran for a quarter of a mile and rested to get our breath back and haven’t eaten any food for two days, looking back to see any Germans coming, and to see if God was watching over me, the sky was closed. He was not watching, or was he? “Eh, Vic. You still look white. What did you see up there in the sky?” asked Red.
Red and I ran about half a mile and stopped again for a breather. I never did answer Red’s question of what i saw in the sky for he may think I’ve gone mad, because I wanted to keep my sanity but the feverish shivers were still going on inside me. “You are still looking white and cool as a cucumber while I am all hot and sweating. Are you sure you’re feeling all right Vic?” “Yes, Red.” Looking over my shoulder to see if there were any Germans following and to see if there is another soldier lying by the edge of the field, believing it would be my soul, as I would have to go back to retrieve it. “Look Vic. The officer waving us on, yeah and you look at the Germans bombing Dunkirk. What a mess”.
We got back to Leffringhokke of the last two guns of the regiment. The officer asked what happened. I heard six explosions and rifles firing. I explained to him everything that happened at Rosendaal. “You are a very brave soldier and I will mention this act of bravery to the Colonel for a bravery medal award and you will be known and called ‘Gun Buster’ of the 92nd Regt for blowing up the guns in the face of the enemy,” replied the officer. “You look very pale. Here is the last tin of cornbeef, share it with the driver. Why did you take 15 minutes lyig by the edge when I gave you cover fire?” “Only a few minutes, sir,” replied Red. That’s when I realise time stood still, looking at God. 1 June 1940.
I explain to the officer of seeing God and commanding me to save myself and others. The lieutenant said not to talk about seeing God to the men or they will believe you have gone mad. “My advice to you is to forget it or you will be put away into a lunatic asylum.” The officer gave orders for the driver to report back to the Colonel at Dunkirk and No1 gun crew to join the rest of the ‘B’ troop at the bridge. The sergeant asked “ Shall we blow up the gun, Sir?” “No. The gun buster will be blowing up the last two guns.” Later a Messerschmitt 109 attacked us. My sergeant and Sgt/Major, myself began shooting at the ME109 in defiance.
Just before the troop left my Sgt/Major asked me would I promise to him and my sergeant. No surrender to the enemy and to shake hands. I did. “You are aware what that means? Sgt/Major making promises, with our backs to the sea (fight on until death.)” “Yes, I know” replied the Sgt/Major. “I can understand my sergeant taken an oath with you after I told him what will happen to him if he got captured when we were in Belgium but I can’t understand you doing it.” Sgt/Major replied that “It would be a great honour to fight the enemy by your side and killing so many Germans as you did and not surrendering. You are a very brave soldier.” I was left alone again to blow up the last gun of the regiment and probably the last of the B.E.F. at 11.35am 1st June.
We left Leffringhokke and started to march towards Dunkirk for the ships to take us home to Blighty, crossing over the last bridge the engineers blew it up as we were the last troop out of action. Then we came across a great barricade of almost the entire B.E.F. armour of tanks, guns, lorries destroyed surrounding Dunkirk while it was burning and the German air force still dropping more bombs on Dunkirk. “Jesus Christ,” I exclaim “ we are marching right into ‘Hell’”, as the officer pointing the way to follow the pathway through the fields of wrecked armour.
“Jesus Christ, Look at this Joe. What a bloody mess.” Columns of our boys lining up in the sea and many were drowned and killed as the German artillery shells fell into the sea amongst them. A sight never to be forgotten. “Where are the ships our officers said would be waiting to take us back to England. I see no ships. Where is the bloody navy? There must be well over 20,000 B.E.F. soldiers left behind. Is this what God meant when he said ‘You are my Godsoldier, you have a job of work to do for me. You must leave now and save yourself and others. It would take a miracle to save this army.” ‘How’and ‘When’. Why me? Dunkirk.
Joe was reluctant to come out of our dune we dug in the sands saying he wasn’t feeling well. I encouraged him that the ships will be coming in to take us home and we started to queue up in the sea. After many hours passed, darkness was descending upon us and the tide was coming in fast. Joe fainted and went under. I quickly found his collar and pulled him up. “Hang on Joe, we will go back. There won’t be any ships tonight.” Three soldiers offered to help me to carry Joe back as I was loaded with rifles and Bren gun. They asked me “What regiment are you?” “92nd Field R.A.” I replied. And they called us cowards. 1st June, Dunkirk.
At dawn June 2nd I found three soldiers asleep in their dune. Prodding them with my rifle, “Wakey, wakey. Bullets for breakfast.” “Are the ships in?” they ask. “Not for you guys unless you give me a damn good reason for not blowing your brains out and bury you here and now for calling me and my regiment cowards last night, remember?” “We didn’t mean you, soldier. It’s one of your officers we’re calling a coward. Six days ago when the ships came in your officer was put in charge of our column. The skipper of the motor boat asked your officer to take some men off, being overloaded. Me and my pals were ordered off. As the boat was leaving he jumped on, leaving the column behind. That was the last boat.” “What was his name?” When they said his name and Regt. it was my B/TRP Commander. So that’s where he went, leaving us to face the German tanks on 28th May to get home to England. I lowered my rifle in shame.
“You’re up early gun buster. Had any sleep?” “No, Sir. I nearly shot three soldiers this morning for calling me and the regiment cowards.” I told ‘A’ troop commander about his friend our Trp/Commander being in charge of a column. He jumped on the boat leaving the men behind. “I expect he’s tucked up in a feather bed and having eggs and bacon for breakfast while we have bombs and shells. He is a coward, Sir.” “Forget about that. I have spoken to the Colonel about your bravery at Rosendaal for a bravery medal,” The Colonel said that because of your court-martial and your punishment, all acts of bravery will not be recognised. I’m sorry.” Said the officer. “That’s O.K, Sir. I knew that would happen. I warned the Colonel “Punish me and I’ll punish you and the army for that injustice.” “Gun buster, will you go and rescue some wounded men in that pill box and take them over to the M.O?”
I went into the pillbox and was shocked to see the wounded lads. “Jesus Christ. How long have you been like this?” “Two days,” replied one of the wounded soldiers. I began to move some concrete from their bodies. Each one asked me to put my rifle in their mouth and pull the trigger to put them out of agony. “I can’t do that. I’ll ask the M.O. first for permission. “ The soldier asked for a catholic priest for his last rights as he said he was dying. I went to see the M.O. and told him about the wounded. “Don’t you dare shoot them. There isn’t any priest, so you’ll say prayers for him. I’ll be over there as soon as I finish this soldier’s wounds.” I went back to comfort him, lighting a cigarette, taking out my Oxford & Bermondsey Club Prayer Book, saying, “I have been blessed by God in battle calling me his Godsoldier, give me the right to pray and send your soul unto him in heaven.” End of pray. The soldier died in my arms.
I began to remove more concrete from the soldier to straighten his broken legs out, using their rifles for splints. His right hand was trapped beneath the heavy concrete, crushed. Again he begged me to shoot him to put him out of his pain and misery. “Sorry soldier, I can’t do that but I will make a promise to get you back to Blighty on the hospital ship.” The medical officer came in. “Is this the dying soldier?” I, feeling his pulse when the German bombers came overhead dropping their bombs on Dunkirk, I raised my fist, shouting at them, “I am the Godsoldier of England. I swear to God Almighty that I will get my revenge on you German bombers for this. Just you wait and see.”
The M.O. said “They can’t hear you up there soldier.” They heard me have no doubt about it. I will get my revenge before this war is over. The soldier near the entrance got two broken legs and a broken collar bone. The other one has two broken legs and his hand trapped underneath the concrete. I put their broken bones together the best way I could and using their rifles for splints. “Are you are medical orderly?” asked the M.O. “Or done First Aid training?” “No Sir, I haven’t.” “Then you done a fine job, better than I could have done under the circumstances. Sharpen a bayonet. I want you to chop off his arm just below the elbow, his hand won’t be any use to him.”
Carrying the other soldier over to the first aid post, the M.O. made arrangements to get the stretcher bearers to carry the other one out. As I left the pillbox I saw some early morning risers starting to queue up in the sea waiting for ships to come and take them off Dunkirk beach. But there were no ships, only shells falling from the German artillery guns and two Messerschmitt machine gunning the lads. The M.O. was glaring at me scornfully. “Put him down there and put this first aid band on and get rid of your rifle and ammo. It’s not allowed to have arms here. You will be assisting me. “I am not wearing any arm band, Sir. I am here to save the B.E.F. from being slaughtered. It’s your job to nurse the wounded and to keep them alive. That’s what you get paid for as a Medical Officer.” June 22nd 1940.
My Troop Commander came over and asked me would I go and rescue some more wounded soldiers in the burning buildings. I asked him “Where are the rest of the men you said you will get to help me?” “There isn’t anymore. They’re too tired and exhausted. You are the only volunteer.” As 1 entered a building a soldier came running out screaming in agony. I chased him and brought him down. He was screaming and struggling. I struck a blow to his chin, knocking him out and put the flames out. I carried him to the first aid post and the M.O. said “Don’t bring me burnt soldiers. I have no medical equipment to treat burns.” The soldier died an hour later.
I entered the building where the burning soldier came out. I saw a soldier sitting with his face against a beam. I pushed him back to the wall from the burning wood and I noticed that half his face was burnt away leaving half a skull. I cut one of his identity discs off then I called out is there was anyone else in the building. A voice came from above calling for help from the second floor. ”Jump soldier, I will catch you in my arms.” “I have a broken shoulder and a busted ankle.” “There’s a hospital ship anchored at Dunkirk to take the wounded back to Blighty.” The soldier jumped. Catching him I broke three of his ribs.
Going into another building to rescue some more wounded soldiers there was an explosion and a ball of flames shot out from a broken gas pipe catching the stairs alight. I began to remove bricks and timber from a wounded soldier. The other one was dead and another burnt up, only his bones were left. Then a voice called out, “Hey! Soldier will you go and find a ladder so I could get down?” Looking up there he was standing on a narrow ledge on the first floor. “I haven’t got time to look, soldier. You got to jump or you stay up there until you die.”
I went up to the front line to have a chat to the Lewis gunner from the fusilier(s) who was at Rosendaal. I told him about blowing up the guns and firing at the German infantry as they attack the position. I fired the 25 pounder gun at them, killing about a hundred and stopped their advance on Dunkirk. “I told you they were about two hundred yards away.” “I am glad you made it,” said the fusilier, then a Major asked me what was I doing here. I said I’d been rescuing wounded soldiers from the burning building and collecting identity discs from dead soldiers to hand them over to my C.O. then on to the hospital ship back to England. The Major gave be a mess tin half full of dead soldiers’ discs and said “Before you go back, pick up that dead soldier and put him up against the sand bags with the others and fire a round at the Germans.”
On the way back to the beach after eight hours rescuing wounded soldiers the M.O. stopped me and asked “Have you got a needle and thread?” “Yes, Sir.” “Can I use it?” I got my housewife kit and gave it to him. When the two stretcher bearers brought a wounded soldier with a bullet in his shoulder, the M.O. asked me would I sew up the soldier’s stomach while he operated on the soldier’s bullet wound. “Sir, I am not a surgeon or a doctor and I don’t know anything about first aid.” The M.O. said that I done very well with the other wounded soldiers better than he could do, all you do is to pull the skins together and sew it up or else they will die. I began to sew up the soldier’s wound. Then the next one coughed and his stomach came out. “Sir, his stomach came out.” “Push it back in with your hands and start sewing quickly.” 2nd June 1940.
One of the soldiers I rescued from the Pillbox said to me, “You broken your promise to me and these wounded to get us back to England on that hospital ship.” I told him that I stopped the two ambulances and the drivers said, “We are not allowed to pick up any other wounded soldiers except the official first aid post at the other end of Dunkirk.” I told the M.O. about it and he cannot do anything about those orders as this first aid post is not an official one. I was furious over the situation after I been rescuing for eight hours. So I took action and waited for the first ambulance coming back with the wounded. I fired two rounds over the ambulance to make him stop. “Open up!” waving my rifle at him. “I am full up, can’t take your wounded.” “I want to see for myself.” “I am going to report you to the medical authority you’re in big trouble soldier.
Ordering the driver to open the doors, then the moaning started up from the wounded. Groaning about their heads, legs, stomachs and arms. The floor was covered in blood about 2 inches thick overflowing onto the ground. The soldiers also covered themselves in blood. “I told you the ambulance was full,” said the driver. “They are not wounded, they are fakers, pretending to be wounded so as they can get back to England on the hospital ship. Take them off.”
“I will not.”
“ I am going to see the M.O. about you.”
“Then I’ll get them off.” Asking the soldiers what was wrong with them. They refused to answer saying I had no right to take them off so I used force and dragged them off one by one, telling them they will be examined by the M.O. One soldier suffering from shell shock had sucked away half of his thumb to the bone.
The M.O. examined the soldiers and found nine fakers. One believed to be blind, two self-inflicted wounds, one shell shock, sucking his thumb to the bone and crying out repeatedly to go home to see my mummy. One soldier dying taken off to be put with the dead soldiers. Two wounded left on the ambulance. One of our officers from ‘C’ troop asked what I was doing forcing wounded soldiers off the ambulance. “It’s a serious offence against the Red Cross”.
I replied, “They are fakers, Sir, trying to get home to England.”
One of the fakers shouted out “What about us?”
“I am going to give you all three choices: One – you all go up to the front line, take up a rifle and fight. Two – or you can run over there and dig in on the beach. Three – I am going to count up to nine and if you are still standing there I am going to shoot you all down as fakers and cowards in the face of the enemy. 1 – 2..”
“He can’t shoot us, Sir. He hasn’t got the authority.” My officer replied “If he doesn’t, then I will, 3 – 4, and the fakers ran to the beach. I fired a shot over their heads.
My Sgt/Major called out for me to go and see the M.O. While I was resting in my dune the M.O. gave me a packet of cigarettes to have a smoke as I had none. The soldier I rescued from the pillbox thanked me for getting him back to England as he was carried away. The M.O. told me that he cannot take anymore wounded to the hospital ship because the ship is full and will be leaving Dunkirk soon for England and I want you to come back with me to England and as my orderly but you must surrender your rifle.
“I cannot go with you, Sir. I must stay here to save the B.E.F. rear guard from being slaughtered. “
M.O. replied “There’s over 20,000 men here. How can you save them?”
“Only God will tell me what to do, Sir.”
Searching for food with a few other soldiers on the trawler by the Mole pier when the Luftwaffe started to drop their bombs on the ship, I put down my rifle and ammo on the deck and jumped overboard and so did the others. I sank to the bottom. I started to dog(gy) paddle up. The weight of my uniform in water made it difficult to reach the surface. As I got near the top, my lungs bursting for air, I swallowed water but I managed to gasp some air as my mouth reached the surface. Then I heard shouting, “Help, I can’t swim. Help.” There was the other lads struggling but their cries for help died away as they went under and drowned. I swam to the pier and got back to the beach, going back again on the ship to retrieve my rifle.
Our Signal Sgt. from H.O. came to inquire for any divers that can dive down 12ft to 15ft. “I can’t dive Sarge but I can swim under water the length of Bermondsey Baths. Why?”
“There’s a rowing boat sunk by the Mole pier and four dead soldiers trapped under the seats and I believe the boat was sunk by having too many men in it. If you can pull them out and the boat is O.K. I’ve got a rope we can pull it up out of the water, find a couple of oars and row back to England. “It’s worth a try, Sarge.” As I began to walk, I got all the wolf whistles from the troops. My Sgt/Major shouting out “Where do you think you are Gunbuster, on holiday at Brighton Beach?” Another call, “Are you going to swim across the Channel, Vic?” June2nd 1940.
The signal Sergeant pointed down to where the boat is. I dived down unable to reach it, having the air knocked out of me. I decided to swim down. There were five soldiers. One trapped under the front part of the boat that he could not be seen above. After a few attempts I managed to pull two loose, hoping the strong current would do the rest. Pulling the third one free I felt a hard bump against my head. It was another soldier being carried away by the current towards Dunkirk beach. After about twelve dives I was able to free all five. Scanning over the rowing boat it looked in perfect order. No holes in it.
The sergeant gave me the rope while he went to get some men to pull the rowing boat up. I swam down again and tied the rope to the front seat. By the time I finished the sergeant got some of his men from H.Q. They started to pull like a tug of war team. The sergeant shouted down to me that the boat is not moving. I swam down again to see what was wrong. I realised what was happening. Swimming up again, I shouted to the sergeant that the men are pulling the boat onto the sand. “Bring them over the boat and pull up. I’ll go down and rock the boat loose at the same time.” The boat started to go up. It was out of the water when a Signal Officer Lieutenant also there shouting for me to bring in the dead soldier but the German bombers came over and the shout went to take cover. The men dropped the rope to take cover and the boat came crashing down. Fortunately for me the rowing boat stayed afloat.
After the Luftwaffe dropped their bombs I pushed the boat towards the beach, the boat nearly half full of water. I was emptying the water out when the sergeant came with a broken oar. That’s all I can find. I’ll search along the beach.” “O.K. Sarge. and I’ll paddle over to those barges to search. Approaching the barge I was surprised to see a barge full of engineers rowing, going to England. I called to a sergeant, “Can you spare two oars so I can row back to England?” The sergeant asked “Where did you get the boat and who are you?”
“I am 92nd Field Regt.RA. 5th Division. I got the boat from the bottom of the sea beach.”
“I saw that boat sink four days ago with dead soldiers in it believing it was full of holes. You deserve it.” And ordered two of his men to hand over their oars. I thanked him and often wonder if they ever made it back.
I got dressed and the Signal Sergeant came back with his officer. I told him I got two oars from a barge that was rowing back to England “I’ve picked my two gunners, have you got your two signalmen?”
“Yes I have.”
“Then we leave early tonight. Meanwhile I am going to row out to them barges to see if there is any food.” Taking my Bren gun and ammunition the sergeant said “I’ll do to the rowing,” His Lieutenant asked to come with us to search. “Yes, Sir. But there will be no room for you when we leave for England. We got about 10 yards out when the Luftwaffe came over again, dropping their bombs on Dunkirk beach. I picked up the Bren gun and started firing at the bombers. The officer ordered to stop firing and play dead. “They won’t drop their bombs on us, Sir. They bombed 365 battery. I am going back.”
I got back to my dune and found it flattened out by an exploding bomb a few feet away. I started to dig, calling out for Joe as he was buried underneath. The Sgt/Major began the roll call. Finding Joe’s boots I started to pull him out of the dune. I sat him up and opened his mouth to scoop out of the sand. Joe wasn’t breathing. I cleared his nose and poured some water down his throat and pulled his tongue out. His throat must be blocked by sand. I thumped him hard several times on his back, then suddenly he coughed and spluttering water and sand. I ran to the sea and scooped up water in my helmet and threw it into Joe’s face. He came back to life shouting “What the bloody hell you did that for?” The Sgt/major called out his name again.
After rebuilding the dug-out I left with the Sergeant to search the barges for food for our journey tonight to England. Leaving the Sergeant in the rowing boat, began to search, looking down into all the barges and found nothing. I sat down disappointed thinking I only had half a tin of iron ration containing chocolate left, when the voice of God calling to me again, sending shivers into my body, saying “My brave Godsoldier search the barges again you must save your army.” I looked up to the sky to see him but God was not there. The sky was clear. Then the Sergeant called our “Hey, Vic! What’s the matter with you? You look as if you seen a ghost. You’ve gone all white. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m O.K. I am going to search the barges again Sarge.” Obeying God’s command.
After searching a couple of barges, I was surprised to see blankets hanging down covering the front end of the barge I never saw before. I jumped down and cautiously went in. I raised my rifle seeing a civilian with a Morse code equipment. “ Hands up or I shoot,” believing I caught a spy. I called out to my sergeant to “Come look what I found. I found a spy.” We questioned him. He began denying he was a spy but working for British Navy Intelligence Service. His answers to our questions seemed genuine. I asked him to send a message to the Navy to send their ships to take us off. “ No the time is not right. In an hour’s time.” My sergeant said we should go and fetch our Colonel, let him decide. God must have known the Morse code equipment was there all the time and he told me his brave Godsoldier to search again.
We rowed back to fetch the colonel, hoping we would send a message to the navy. The sergeant left saying “Guard the boat and don’t let anyone take it away from you.” I rowed out about hundred and fifty yards to be near the barge so I could watch to see that the operator don’t leave. The nine British infantrymen started waving their arms for me to come in. I stood up and waved my arms saying no and then they raised their rifles and started shooting at me. One bullet hitting my tin helmet. I layed down and got the Bren gun and fired back aiming below their feet. Then a wave lifted the boat up and I shot down, killing four of them. The sergeant and Colonel and the Signal officer running, waving their white handkerchiefs shouting stop firing. The other five ran away into Dunkirk buildings. 2nd June 1940.
The Colonel pulled his revolver out saying “You’re on a court marshal charge for killing those four soldiers. If you are found guilty you will be shot.” The sergeant and the officer went to examine the rowing boat.
“Sir, it was self defence, they were shooting directly at me.”
“No they were firing over your head as I saw it.”
“You kill me Colonel, you’ll die not one death but a thousand deaths for eternity. You and General Alexander are no longer in command here. It’s every man for himself. I’ve been given command to save the B.E.F. rear guards from being slaughtered. My first court marshal, your punishment was until the end of the war. I ask you to half the punishment because this war will last six years. You said no the war will be over in six months. I told you then I’ll punish you and the B.E.F. Look around you now Colonel what do you see, disaster.”
They came back from the boat. I asked the sergeant one question to tell the colonel, what was your last order to me before they give their verdict. I was found not guilty of the charge.
The Colonel asked me can I borrow the rowing boat to go out to the barge to send a message to the British Navy to send ships out to take off the B.E.F. rear guards off the beach of Dunkirk. The sergeant said that the boat had so many bullet holes in it, that it can only hold three men instead of six. I said, “I will row you out there.”
“No, I want you to stand guard over us in case there are other soldiers get the same idea. You have my permission to shoot them down. The sergeant will row us out.”
“Sir, if you go any further than that barge with intent of rowing to England I’ll promise you I will sink you and the rowing boat. Do you understand me. I intend to row back to England tonight.”
The colonel left and came back handing me a loaf of bread. “This is for you from the operator for not shooting him for a spy. We have contacted the British Navy and they said they are coming to take us off the beach tonight.” My Colonel asked was there any trouble. “Yes, Sir. There were four soldiers wanted to take the boat by force. I convinced them what we are doing to get ships in. They left peacefully.”
As the news began to spread around Dunkirk so thousand upon thousand of soldiers began to rush into the sea forming up many queues to be first to get on the ships. The General, realising the danger that the German forces would know something was up, ordered his officers to disburse the columns and them to take cover. When the time comes they will be picked out by numbers of regiments and leave in an orderly manner. I began to plug up the holes in the boat with bullets rapped with cloth, hoping it will keep out some water when my troop commander came with six French gunners. Instructing me to look after them and bring them into the ship by the colonel’s orders. Your Colonel took command of their Gun 75th for two days. So that’s what I’ve heard – gunfiring close by. I watch all night until daylight for the ships but the British Navy never came. I raised my fist towards England cursing the British Navy and calling them cowards in the face of the enemy. June 3rd 1940.
Morning of June 3rd the German Army Commander gave orders to General Alexander to surrender by dawn June 4th. If one shot was fired at the German army advance all the soldiers of the B.E.F. at Dunkirk will be shot and executed. Our General told us “It’s up to you. If you want to surrender there will be no shame on you. Those who want to fight on, remember every soldier will be executed. It is for every man for himself. Good luck to you all. You are very brave soldiers going to the front line.”
I asked the infantry their decision. “We are fighting on we won’t trust German Commander for what they did to the Warwick’s Regt. when they surrendered. They were executed. And for our dead soldiers, standing by our side, and we want you to send a message to the Navy saying the B.E.F. are calling British Navy cowards in the face of the enemy for failing to come and take us off the beach.”
“Give me a live hand grenade. I’ll go.” Arriving at the barge the operator refused to send the message. I got the hand grenade out to throw. “For Christ sake don’t pull that pin out, I’ll send your message by Morse code.”
Returning back from the barge to the beach, I called out the French gunners and tried to explain to them that we are going to fight on, trying to make them leave Dunkirk to rejoin their own army to save their lives. It was difficult for me to explain because I couldn’t speak French and they could not understand or speak English, until my officer came and asked “What’s the problem, Gunbuster?”
“Sir, I think these French gunners should have a choice to leave Dunkirk or stay and be killed when the Germans attack at dawn tomorrow.” “Yes” said the Lieutenant and began to speak in French to them of the situation. The six gunners started talking amongst themselves. I asked my officer “What is their decision?” “They are going to stay and fight with the B.E.F. and die for France.”
My Colonel came and asked me to row him out to the barge to send another message for the General. I did and on the way back he said, “You been here before. Sent a message to the British Navy calling them cowards in the face of the enemy and you threatened to blow up the operator and the Morse code equipment with a hand grenade. Is that true?” “Yes, Sir.” “Well for your information they are coming in tonight. They couldn’t come last night because here were too many u-boats in the channel.” “That, Sir, proves my point ‘cowards’. We have destroyers to destroy u-boats. The government was warned in 1936 England will be at war against Germany in 1939 and the start re-arming but they ignored it saying it’s all nonsense. Well, there is going to be worse disaster to come this six years of war than Dunkirk. I have been given a commanding order to save the B.E.F. rear guard of over 20,000 soldiers from being executed. This war Colonel, is between me and Hitler and his Nazi party. He created this war and I have to destroy him.”
After midnight June 4th while I was resting in the rowing boat my Troop Commander came.
“Come on Gunbuster, two destroyers have arrived at the end of the pier. Destroy your boat, Bren gun, gas mask, ammo and all kits to make room, rifles only and bring the French gunners with you.
“Sir, what about the wounded and the infantry up the front line?”
“Everything is taken care of.”
I did not destroy the Bren gun. Instead I stripped it to pieces and distributed amongst my subsection to carry back home. We got onto the Mole pier when a German shell hit the pier killing and wounding many, some screaming out for help, “I am wounded, I can’t swim”. An officer shouted to those in the sea. “Shut up you fools. Do you want the Germans to know what’s going on?”
The cries for help died away as they drowned. Planks of wood was called for repairs. I called out to God with raised fist, “God, what kind of game of war are you playing at. You command me to save the British Army and you let this happen.”
When the German artillery stopped firing, the six planks of wood from Dunkirk houses to form a crossing put in place bridging the gap for us to cross the Mole pier. When I arrived with the six French gunners an officer shouted “No French soldiers allowed only British.” “Sir, these six French gunners belong to 92nd Field Artillery.” But the officer and M.P.s refused to allow them to cross.. I asked my friend, Joe to go across and find the Colonel or our officer tell ‘em what’s happened. If no one comes tell the officer I will shoot my way across. After a short while ACT Troop Officer came. “Gunner Uggles, send the French gunners over.” When I got to the second destroyer the officer asked me, “Would you shot your way across?” “Yes. Sir. It was I that got the two destroyers here.”
When we left Dunkirk, approximately ten thousand soldiers on each ship it was packed top to bottom that all front soldiers were ordered to sit down to make more room. So my feet was in the sea as the destroyer sunk so low. Later I looked back and saw the red glow of fire ball of Dunkirk. The sailors came to give us cocoa and rum. The sailor asked me “Do you know who the soldier who sent the message calling us British Navy cowards in the face of the enemy? We are not cowards.”
“What are you going to do with the soldier?”
“Me and my shipmates are going to throw him into the sea. (Now I am in trouble with the British Navy) “And the B.E.F. will throw you and shipmates overboard to join him. Why didn’t you come out yesterday to save us?”
“Because there were too many u-boats in the Channel.”
“Silence!” came the order “Do you want the u-boats to sink us all.”
At the Battle of Anzio where my face blew up like a balloon, my nose and lips completely disappeared, my eyelids covered my eyes. The medical officer said it is caused by explosions of the gunfiring from the 25 pounder gun. M.O. said he will find an E.N.T specialist. I was not allowed to leave Anzio beach head as I was sick, only the wounded according to my Colonel. The swelling went down after a week’s treatment. Two months later we left Anzio and advanced towards Rome on Highway 7, then to Gustave Line, then the 5th division was taken out of action returning back to Palestine again. Julis. Instead of England. The R.M.O. sent me to No2 general hospital near Jerusalem for my operation sinus to have my face cut open inside and cheek bones chipped and scraped. The M.O. assistant gave me an injection to calm my nerves down. The nursing sister asked me if I was alright and ready. 9th-13th Nov.44.
On entering the surgery room the M.O. specialist asked, “How you feeling L/BDR. Uggles?”
“A bit dopey, Sir.”
Then he switched on the operating lights. The glare was so bright it dazzled my eyes. The nursing sister looked down as me and smiled. I was amazed to see what was happening to her as a halo formed around her face, the sister’s face began to change into the most beautiful young face I have ever seen. She was changing into an angel with the halo still around her and at the same time I was feeling a creepy sensation starting from my toes down to my ankles and going up my legs. I reached out to hold the beautiful face of the angel but she moved away.
I kept on reaching out to my beautiful angel but she moved away again and I found myself inside the tunnel of light travelling at great speed towards her. The creepy feeling inside my body that started from my toes had now reached my stomach and moving up towards my chest, the angel encouraging me to come on and catch me with her beautiful smile and eyes. She moved faster and faster up the tunnel of light and I put every effort inside me to catch my angel and hold her in my arms. I got so close to her to put my arms around her when that creepy feeling going through to my face and reaching my brain. Then there was a loud click.
After the loud click everything turned pure white and I was left stranded in mid-air. Everything disappeared. I was completely in open space. I looked up to the sky. There was none. I spun around to see any walls or horizon. There was none. I looked down beneath ma there was no floor. Is this heaven? Then I must be dead but I don’t feel dead. Am I dreaming. I slapped my face hard and felt the pain. I pinched my left arm and felt it. I lifted my gown up to feel my penis and testicles and squeeze them. I felt the touch. What is happening to me. I cannot be dead because souls don’t feel pain. I slapped my face harder and remembered the hospital to have my sinus operation, wearing the gown and socks. My face not being cut. There was no clouds or wind or sound just complete silence. The air was still and able to breathe. I convinced myself that this is heaven completely empty and alone. Following the angel that brought me here. Why? Was it to find my soul I lost four years ago at Rosendaal, Dunkirk. How am I going to get back to earth. I began to twist around in mid-air and somersaulting. Then fear came over me and started to panic for the first time in my life.
I began to control myself and thought how am I going to get down to the ground. I shouted out to God to help me. “Where are you God? This is your Godsoldier calling.” I began to realize I was going down when I was shouting and I could hear my own voice when I stop shouting so I stopped going down. I kept on shouting continuously and going down and down and down, Calling to God.
God has called to me four times over the past four years to do a job of work for him. Why doesn’t he answer me.
As I was going down I saw faint black lines moving from one end of heaven endlessly. I kept on shouting. The as I got closer I saw people walking along all dressed in white gowns. I thought they must be the living dead. The souls. “Who are you people? ” I shouted. But no answer came. Some of them were pointing at me. So it is true what Jesus said that there is life after death in heaven. ‘And I am the only living witness’.
As I descended down to the ground amongst the living souls I realised that it was not ground but the top of the sky. It was firm and pure white. The souls began to look frightened and shocked as they moved away from me. I shouted at them, “Don’t go away I won’t harm you. Have you seen my soul?” Still they flew away, passing me at great speed about twenty to thirty miles an hour. The more I shouted at them to stop, the more they got frightened and not one of them spoken.
The souls kept on fleeing past me shouting at them, “Have you see my soul?” But no souls spoke. I realised that they cannot speak and have lost their voices. That is why it’s complete silence in heaven. Then a couple holding hands came close to me. I grabbed her arm and was surprised how firm and solid her arm was, like mine. The couple stopped instantly and I said, “I will not harm you. Have you seen my soul?” The female smiled at me. I asked, “Do you understand English nod your head up and down or sideways like this,” demonstrating myself. Their clothes were different they looked like Roman or Greek clothes of two thousand years ago. Then her male friend suddenly moved and grabbed my arm and wrenched it away from her. I was surprised at the amount of strength the soul has got. They flew off. She looked back smiling and waved goodbye.
I decided that if the souls can leap up into the air and fly, I’ll jump up and see what happens. I did and was surprised to see I could fly above the souls. Now I can look for my soul lost at the Battle of Rosendaal 1940. Then I got a surprise to see my own father in heaven, died in May 1940.
“Dad,” I shouted “It’s me your son Vic. Dad I am not dead. No officer has killed me,”
.... as my father advised me to kill any officer that tried to shoot me during the war and die bravely afterwards. “Dad don’t you remember your sons? I am Vic, there’s John, Bill and Ted. Mum died a year after you. Have you seen her, your wife, Minnie Laurie?” But Dad just stared at me not comprehending of what I was telling him.
Then the voice of God called. “Gunner Uggles what are you doing in my heaven?” I turned to look where his voice came from and half of heaven was in total blackness he created. “I know you. You’re God. I saw you in France at Rosendaal. It was you that took my soul away and I am up here to find it and put it back inside my body.”
“Your soul my brave soldier is not in heaven. Tell me who killed you and I will destroy them all a thousand times over for eternity. “No one has killed me God I am alive in flesh and blood. I can feel pain. I followed an angel into heaven.”
“ I sent no angel down to earth to you. Tell me what happened,” replied God.
I explained everything that happened in hospital in Palestine, the sister changed into an angel.
“Then she will become a GodAngel when her time comes. She will revert back to this time and become your beautiful GodAngel,” replied God.
I got as close to God but an invisible force field stopped me. “Come out of there God and face me like a man.”
“No,” replied God, “you will not like what you see.” Then his left arm came out of the pulsing globe pointing down. His arm was flesh colour and his veins are thick and protruding from his arm. “Look down my brave Godsoldier”. There I saw a black spot below.
“Why God did you allow Jesus Christ to be crucified when you got the power to stop it? I asked.
“It’s none of your affair.” God replied. “Look down Godsoldier.” The black spot became large and I realised that the sky was opening and there below I saw the earth revolving round, recognising the shape of an elephant head and trunk of the American States and Europe. The earth was about the size of a football. Then God spoke and said, “My brave Godsoldier you must go back to my animal kingdom to fight your enemy.”
“No, God don’t send me back to that evil earth.”
“My brave Godsoldier you have spent one moment of every year of your life in my heaven. I command you to go back. If you don’t all what you saw and believed in the past will not come true and your people will become slaves for evermore to your enemy. You must go back and to the second front to save your army.”
I looked up to God to plead him not to send me back. But a glaring light from God blinded me and I felt myself being thrown down by an invisible force through the sky into the ray of light going down to earth. I screamed out to God, “Give me back my soul God, give me back my soul,” repeating it over and over until I lost consciousness.
Then I felt a thump. I opened my eyes and knew I was back on the hospital operating trolley and seeing white above. I realised it was a white sheet covering me from head to foot. I threw the sheet back as I was gasping for air. Sitting up I notice a wooden coffin box, then the medical orderly came out of the operating room. I shouted at him, “ Hey you. What the bloody hell’s going on here?” The medical orderly turned and gasped. He went white and his hair stood up on end in a state of shock shouting out “He’s come back alive. Sir, come and look at this. He’s alive.” He went back in shouting “He’s come back alive.”
The orderly came out again running from the surgery still screaming “He’s come back alive”, over and over again. The M.O. and Sister came out and was surprised to see me.
“Your orderly, has he gone mad?” I ask. The M.O. ask me “Who are you?”
“I am Lance Bombardier Uggles and why haven’t you operated on my face for sinus?”
“Because you have been dead this past hour. Your flesh and blood, your muscles disappeared. Only your bones a skeleton was left on the table. We are all in deep shock. Your bones was being protected by some invisible force.” replied the M.O.
I put my face in my hands saying Oh God what have I done, as my memory came back to me, all what happened on earth and in heaven.
“You must be our new Messiah” said the M.O.
“I am not a messiah.”
“Then who are you?”
“I am your Godsoldier.”
“What is a Godsoldier?” he ask.
“A Godsoldier who kills his enemies to save others for their freedom. God told me the Sister will become his GodAngel when her time comes and command me to go to the second front to save the British Army.
The M.O. specialist began to explain to me of my death/what happened when he switched the operating lights on that the socks and my feet, your flesh and blood and muscles began to disappear (This was when I felt the creepy feeling inside me as I was trying to catch my angel) until you was a skeleton.
M.O. said, “I could not touch your bones because there was an invisible force protecting your bones.
I realised the invisible force was my soul. I believed my soul was lost at Rosendaal, France when I first saw God. My soul is with me not inside but living outside of my body.