At 2 a.m. on Wednesday 28th April 1943 the officer of Artillery, fifteen 25 pounders, ordered, via the tannoy, each gun to find its range. As soon as our guns started firing, the soldiers started cursing the officers. They told him to leave the bloody Germans alone ‘they will only pick on us’ and they further said that ‘they wanted a bit of kip’.

Captain Basil Bateman (Bill) and I shared the same trench in the reverse line and the front line. I always stood on the left of the trench and him on the right. Obviously we were very close and enjoyed a bit of a chat and a laugh from time to time. On one occasion I had been busy digging the trench quite deep and Captain Bateman thanked me for digging his trench; I replied quite firmly that I was digging the trench for myself but that he was welcome to share it. Quite near was the Company Sergeant Major Hearnden who was a regular soldier. The area where we were located was undulating and there were a quite a lot of trees and they were useful to give cover. The weather was good but there were problems with mosquitoes. Enfidaville was technically a town although it seemed only a village to me.

As soon as our shells came over our heads towards the enemy, the enemy responded with, I believe, 88 mm guns, a gun we had come to fear! After five minutes the shelling ended and we had peace for a few hours. No one on our side was hit. I went to sleep on my side of the trench. Captain Bateman woke me up and started to talk to me, he did not actually tell me off for going to sleep in the front line but I decided that I had better not go to sleep with him next to me. At 4 a.m. our guns started up again for five minutes and our infantry started cursing again. The enemy replied for about five minutes and then both sides stopped the shelling and we had peace again.

At 7.30 a.m. I got out of the trench to clean my teeth, wash my face, comb my hair and go to the toilet which I did behind an olive tree. Altogether it took about four to five minutes. I had a steel comb and a steel mirror. My water bottle was only half full which concerned me as I understood that while someone could live for up to 18 days without food they could survive for no more than three days without water.

At 8 a.m. a soldier from the Cook House came with some food. This was cereal and a good cup of tea. We both had a large tin mug and it was very important to put the mug level on the ground and not waste any. You had to remember that you could not be sure when you would get another meal. Although the cookhouse was only about a mile from the front line it could be damaged by shell fire. I had a piece of rag with which I tried to keep our cans and mugs clean.

At 8.30 a.m. our Corporal of Signals, a big man from Reading, asked Captain Bateman to change the tuning position on our small wirelesses from seven to eight. I was told by the captain to go to A, B and C Platoons and ask the officers change their wirelesses from seven to eight and then go back to our base and check that we were all on the new range of eight. At 9 a.m. the captain told me and the Company Sergeant Major that he was going to see the Lieutenant Colonel H.Wilson, I considered the Lieutenant Colonel to be a nice man. By 10 a.m. he had come back and the three of us talked about good times we had had before the war. The Company Sergeant Major talked about when he had been ‘proper drunk’; while the captain referred to his time in the Gold Coast, where he had been in trade, and had spent the day in bed with two black women. I talked about a day had spent in London going to a museum and then to watch a play, ‘Beyond the Horizon’ by Eugene O’Neil, which I had been very impressed by and finally to the House of Commons to hear a debate. “Well that doesn’t seem much of a day to me, Whittle!” said Mr Hearden.

At 11.45 a.m. I suggested to Captain Bateman that we get into our trench since the Germans often shelled us at 12 noon prompt. The shelling duly started at 12 o’clock precisely and was quite frightening, when it ended the captain called out to see if anyone had been wounded. No one was hit. By 1.00 p.m. someone from the cookhouse came with the food which consisted of Army biscuits and butter, bully beef and peach slices and again a large mug of tea.

At about 1.30 p.m. the signal corporal passed on the message to Captain Bateman, from the Lieutenant Colonel, to meet him within 10 minutes. The captain told me to come with him and I followed with my Lee Enfield rifle and 50 rounds (.303 in clips of 5 in a belt of 50). We were going in the line held by the 2/7th Queens Royal Regiment. There we found the other senior officers but no other privates. The Lieutenant Colonel declared that only officers were to be present and so Captain Bateman sent me back to A Company.

After a few minutes I came across a supply of blankets, tape and a few wooden crosses that had been painted white and had been left to dry. I realised that this was the Pioneer unit whose job it was to bury the corpses. They were initially buried anywhere but later they were dug up and reburied in the Commonwealth war cemeteries. As I was looking at these items, a corporal, whom I did not know told me to ‘bugger off’ which I did.

I then went forward to our base i.e. HQ of A Company. As far as I could see there were olive trees and the weather was lovely. Out of the trees came my friend Private Norman Medway who came from the Newbury area. He asked me if I had any news. When we had been in Iraq he had shown me a letter from his father in which his father had said that he had rented a field and bought a calf for him so that he would able to become a small holder after the war was over. I told him that I thought it was possible that we were going to have a set piece battle that night. He replied ‘I hope that I will not be killed for my dad will weep’. By the following morning, he was dead.

I got back to our base and thought about who would look after my wife Vera and daughter Dorothy if I was killed. While I was thinking about this, I cleaned my rifle and put 10 rounds in the barrel. I then placed a rag around the working parts as sand was a problem. I was hoping to get some sandwiches and tea by about 5 p.m., but at about 4.30 p.m. the signal corporal told me that I must go in the jeep with the driver to a place that the driver knew and wait for further instructions. When we got to the place I found the senior officer going into, what I believe was, a natural tunnel and although I could not see I could hear quite clearly what the Lieutenant Colonel was saying. He said that the General had told him that the ‘Higher command’ was fed up with the war in Africa and that the battle in this area must be brought to a satisfactory end as soon as possible. They must therefore attack and take the hill that was their objective and hold it no matter what happened and no matter what the casualties! When I heard the Lieutenant Colonel speak I thought to myself ‘I may be dead by tomorrow and I haven’t even had my tea.’ The briefing took place from about 6.00 p.m. to 9.30 p.m.

As soon as the Lieutenant Colonel ended his briefing, he had everybody check their army watches. The offices shook hands with each other and said goodbye. By the morning the Lieutenant Colonel would also be dead. Captain Bateman came out of the briefing and said “I am pleased to see you Whittle”. Captain Percy Wilson, commander of B company, seemed somewhat concerned about the coming battle but Captain Bateman was quite short with him and told him to return to his company and get ready for the battle. Instead Captain. Wilson got hold of a large bottle of gin which he proceeded to drink as if it were water. Later he was to lose command of the company but stayed with the regiment and later in Italy was to win the MC and then to be killed. I had known him off and on since 1940, when as an officer at Faversham he had stopped the men of his platoon filling 30 bottles of beer, stout and cider with urine.