An Englishman at War

by James Holland

  About the Book

  From the outbreak of war in September 1939 all the way to the smouldering ruins of Berlin in 1945, via Palestine, Tobruk, El Alamein, D-Day, Nijmegen and the crossing of the Rhine, An Englishman at War is a unique first-person account of the Second World War.

  The Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry, Stanley Christopherson’s regiment, went to war as amateurs, equipped with courage but very little else, and ended up one of the most experienced, highly trained and most valued armoured units in the British Army. Their journey through the war, learning through mistakes and tragedy as well as from a determined desire to improve, can, in many ways, be seen to reflect the experience of the British Army as a whole. From Alamein onwards, the Sherwood Rangers were in the vanguard of almost every action in which they took part, and over the course of the conflict, they amassed an astonishing thirty battle honours.

  Christopherson himself was to rise from a junior subaltern to become the commanding officer of the regiment soon after the D-Day landings. He took part in all thirty battle honours, and collected a Distinguished Service Order, two Military Crosses and an American Silver Star, as well as being Mentioned in Despatches four times. His is an extraordinary story.

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Introduction

  A Note on the Text

  Personalities

  Maps

  Part I: PALESTINE AND TOBRUK, September 1939–December 1941

  1: To Palestine

  2: Mounted Cavalry No More

  3: Flash Kellett Takes Command

  4: A New Year

  5: Gunners at Tobruk

  6: The Siege of Tobruk

  7: Mechanized at Last

  Part II: FROM ALAMEIN TO TUNIS, January 1942–May 1943

  8: Tank Training

  9: Into Action

  10: The Battle of El Alamein

  11: Pursuit to Tripoli

  12: The Tebaga Gap

  13: Victory in North Africa

  Part III: D-DAY TO VICTORY, June 1944–May 1945

  14: D-Day

  15: Fighting in Normandy

  16: Normandy Break-out

  17: The Pursuit through France and Belgium

  18: The Capture of the St Pierre Garrison and Liberation of Brussels

  19: Gheel and MARKET GARDEN

  20: Attacking the Siegfried Line

  21: Approach to the Rhine

  22: From the Rhine to Victory

  Postscript by James Holland

  Picture Section

  Appendix I: Structure of the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry on 6 June 1944

  Appendix II: A Note on Formations

  Glossary

  Acknowledgements

  Index

  About the Authors

  Also by James Holland

  Copyright

  Introduction

  IN EARLY JUNE 2004, I was in Normandy with a small group of friends, one of whom was David Christopherson; of our group, his was the only father who had both fought in the war and landed on D-Day, and David was understandably keen to see some of the places where his father, Stanley, had been in action. Knowing my particular interest in the war, he shared with me some of the passages of his father’s wartime diaries, which he had brought along. It seemed the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry had got through D-Day itself without suffering too many casualties, but then had been involved in a particularly tough fight near a village called Tilly-sur-Seules, to the south of Bayeux. By chance we were staying very close by so, together, David and I found our way to Point 103, a hill overlooking the village of St Pierre, where the Sherwood Rangers and Stanley had been sent on 8 June 1944.

  They had moved into positions on this piece of high ground using trees as cover. Sixty years on, David and I found the spot easily: a thick line of trees ran off the road to St Pierre and Tilly along a slightly sunken track. From here, along that ridgeline, it required little imagination to picture the tanks and men of the Sherwood Rangers, positioned along there, the hulls of the Sherman tanks on the track, the barrels of their guns hidden by the foliage and branches of the beeches. And from between the trees, there was a clear view down to the villages and the rolling Normandy countryside beyond.

  David was both excited and wistful about the discovery. He’d been to Normandy with his father, but only once, some years before, and he’d not asked enough questions. Stanley had passed away 14 years earlier, in 1990, and during his lifetime had not talked to his son much about his war. Now, as we walked the old battleground, it was too late to ask Stanley about his memories of what he’d experienced all those years before.

  Walking along Point 103 fired our interest. David explained that his father had served throughout the war, and that he wished he now knew more. The pages of the diary he’d brought with him were just a fragment – there was a mass of it, from 1940 until the end, and mostly transcribed too: Palestine, Tobruk, Alamein, Tunisia, Normandy, Operation MARKET GARDEN, the crossing of the Rhine. David vowed to reread it; I urged him to send me a copy. He was as good as his word.

  Together, the diaries amount to more than three hundred thousand words: one of the most astonishing war records I have ever read by a British soldier in the Second World War.

  Stanley Christopherson was born in 1912 into a comfortable middle-class family. A large part of his childhood was spent in South Africa, where his father became managing director of Consolidated Goldfields. Father and son were close, and Stanley once wrote, ‘I would rather be alone with my father for company than any other man.’ From his father he inherited the charming, humorous and optimistic outlook that exudes from his diaries.

  Like most boys of his age and class, he was educated in England, first at Locker’s Park preparatory school, where one of his many uncles was headmaster, and then Winchester College. By this time, the Christophersons had returned from South Africa – Consolidated Goldfields had an office in London, although Stanley’s father was often based in South Africa for long periods.

  With the family in England, however, holidays were now spent at their home at Belmont Paddocks, near Faversham. Stanley adored it. Here he was surrounded by family and friends; they played golf, cricket and tennis; they had dogs and horses so there was hunting and shooting, and weekend parties with croquet, after-dinner cards and other games. The Christophersons were nothing if not sociable, and the impression from his early letters and diaries is of an idyllic time that offered no hint of what was to come in the war.

  Although Stanley won a place at Oxford, he decided to sail to South Africa instead, to be with his beloved father. He spent a year out there before returning to England, and in 1935, aged 23, he took up a post with Rowe Swann & Co, stockbrokers with links to South Africa. It was during this time that he joined the Inns of Court, a Territorial Army regiment that recruited not only barristers, but solicitors, stockbrokers and former public-school and Oxbridge men living and working in the City. A cavalry unit, it aimed to train these young men at weekends and at an annual summer camp so that, in the event of war, they should have some military experience.

  With the outbreak of war in September 1939, all members of the Inns of Court were immediately called up, although there was never any question of this TA unit ever becoming a regular regiment. Instead, the three squadrons were split up for further training after which the former London professionals would be posted to various yeomanry regiments now mobilizing for war.

  Stanley Christopherson began the war as ‘acting lance-corporal unpaid’ and ended it a lieutenant colonel, commanding the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry. Almost no member of the Rangers managed to get through the war unscathed, and Stanley was no exception, although he was one of the v
ery few to be still standing at the end. The Sherwood Rangers had an extraordinary war. They began as little more than amateurs – horse- and sport-loving country folk with little understanding of what was about to unfold. A picture of them taken at the 1939 Annual Summer Camp shows them lined up on their horses, Sam Browne belts and riding boots gleaming, looking as though they are heading off to the Boer War of forty years earlier. Six years later, they finished the war as the single unit of the British Army with more battle honours than any other, having fought in the Middle East and North Africa, landed on D-Day, then led the British charge through the Low Countries and into Belgium.

  In many ways, the Sherwood Rangers can be seen as a leitmotif of the British Army in the Second World War. They began rooted in an earlier age with little understanding of what modern war had become, but gradually, often painfully, learned the lessons, and evolved into a highly efficient outfit. They were rarely complacent and the diaries repeatedly show the strong desire of officers and men to become a more effective and efficient fighting machine. The transformation over the course of nearly six long years is startling.

  Guiding us through this time is Stanley Christopherson. He was 26 when the war began – still young, but old enough to have lost the callowness of youth; by the war’s outbreak, he had seen something of the world, had the makings of a career, and was able to view his experiences with a degree of the objectivity that is often missing in the writings of those a few years younger than him. As with the very best diaries, his character shines through: charming, intelligent, thoughtful, and possessed of a great sense of humour.

  There is also ambition. From the outset, Stanley wants to become a better soldier. When sent on courses, he is determined to do well and to achieve as high a mark as possible. He wants to move up the ranks and is never more thrilled than when given command of his own squadron. There is ambition for the regiment too. The Sherwood Rangers may have gone to war on horseback, but there is never any question of standing still. One of the most remarkable features of the diaries is the amount of training and analysis of combat that goes on, especially once they have become mechanized and are given a front-line role in 8th Armoured Brigade. The British Army in the Second World War has often been criticized for complacency, and for consisting largely of reluctant conscripts more interested in stopping to drink tea than getting on with the business of defeating the Axis. Stanley’s diaries reveal a no less human bunch of soldiers, but an increasingly professional grouping that evolves into one of the finest armoured regiments in the entire British Army.

  Yet the Sherwood Rangers never lost their informality – one that drew on their origins as a Yeomanry regiment. Even in north-west Europe, they were recognized by the number of pots and pans dangling from their tanks and the live chickens that often accompanied them – they were still countrymen at heart. Newcomers also commented on how friendly their men were and how easy it was to become accepted. There was little of the spit and polish of regular army units.

  Few regiments can have provided as many wartime memoirs as the Sherwood Rangers. Hermione Ranfurly wrote about her husband, Dan, a member of the regiment, in To War with Whitaker. Myles Hildyard, another Sherwood Ranger, published his letters home, It’s Bliss Here, while Stuart Hills gave an account of his time from D-Day to the war’s end in By Tank to Normandy. Several others from the regiment self-published memoirs, including Padre Skinner, who would prove such a comfort to Stanley during the Regiment’s time in north-west Europe. Keith Douglas, perhaps the finest British poet of the war, was another member of the Sherwood Rangers. He wrote a brilliant memoir of the Regiment’s time in North Africa, From Alamein to Zem Zem.

  None of these, however, can rival Stanley Christopherson’s diaries for the completeness of the story or the immediacy and lack of self-consciousness. As such, they provide a remarkable record of one man’s, and one regiment’s, passage through almost the entire war.

  Stanley (left) with his mother and brother Derrick. December 1919.

  Stanley and his father in South Africa, after leaving Winchester.

  Stanley (middle row, second left) with his friends Tony Farquhar (top row, far right) and Clive Priday (front row, left). Winchester 1930.

  A Note on the Text

  Stanley Christopherson was not the finest speller in the world, and particularly when it came to names. Many of those mentioned, including good friends, had their surnames misspelled, or spelled in several different ways. As far as possible, I have tried to give them the correct spelling, but admit I may not always have been entirely successful. The same goes for many of the encampments, stops and small villages, especially those dotted throughout North Africa and Palestine, that are mentioned in the diaries. To give Stanley his due, however, there is often a lack of consistency in the spelling of many such places. Please accept that every effort has been made to locate and provide the correct names, for people and places, and that any errors are entirely unintentional.

  Stanley also uses a large number of acronyms: I have included a Glossary (here) in which their meanings can be found. Understandably, he mentions friends and family without explanation as to who they are. For the most part, they are referenced more fully in Personalities (here).

  Personalities

  Ione Barclay . . . . . . . . . . . . family friend

  Malc Christopherson . . . . Stanley’s cousin

  Tony Farquhar . . . . . . . . . . close friend from Winchester College

  John Hanson-Lawson . . . . friend from Inns of Court

  Freddie Luck . . . . . . . . . . . . friend

  Sydney Morse . . . . . . . . . . . Regimental Adjutant

  Clive Priday . . . . . . . . . . . . Stanley’s best friend from Winchester College

  John Rowell . . . . . . . . . . . . a friend from the Inns of Court, killed 27 May 1940 while with the Xth Hussars

  David Steele

  John Stormonth-Darling . friend

  Derrick Christopherson . . Stanley’s older brother

  Bridget Christopherson . . Stanley’s cousin

  Pat Christopherson . . . . . . Stanley’s cousin

  Diana Pelham . . . . . . . . . . . friend

  Stanley Christopherson in Tripoli for Churchill’s Parade, 1943.

  PART I

  PALESTINE AND TOBRUK

  September 1939–December 1941

  1

  To Palestine

  A contemporary postcard from Palestine.

  STANLEY BEGAN his diaries in 1940, but after the war he wrote a brief outline of his pre-1940 war experiences.

  At the outbreak of war C Squadron of the Inns of Court was posted to Redford Barracks in Edinburgh. We were the horsed squadron. The two mechanized squadrons, A and B, were posted to Sandhurst.

  After a few weeks we were given the choice of nominating the Yeomanry we wished to join. I chose the Scottish Horse because John Seymour-Darling, a very good friend from my time at Winchester College, had already joined. However, this was not to be as I was posted to the Nottingham (Sherwood Rangers) Yeomanry, better known as the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry, together with Lawrence Biddle, a lawyer in civilian life (and a very bright one), and John Walters, an accountant.

  We bade farewell to our friends in the Inns of Court and proceeded to London to purchase our uniform from the regimental tailor and boot-maker. Lawrence and I received orders to report to Malton in Yorkshire, where the Sherwood Rangers were stationed. We boarded a train to Malton, this time attired as second lieutenants, sporting riding breeches, boots and spurs, and tunics. We were slightly apprehensive as we had heard the Regiment boasted three Masters of Fox Hounds and that the pre-war officers were extremely wealthy and very insular.

  On our arrival we were interviewed by the adjutant, Captain Gerald Grosvenor, who had been seconded to the Sherwood Rangers by the 9th Lancers. After a formal introduction he said, ‘We generally select our own officers, and at present we have a full complement. I should like one of you to become signal officer, to be attached to RHQ
.’ After a long pause Lawrence Biddle eventually volunteered. One of Lawrence’s many hobbies was wireless and any form of signalling, and I am quite certain that he knew more about it than any of the present serving officers. He then told John and me that we should be posted to one of the sabre squadrons.

  We soon found that Gerald Grosvenor was a most charming and delightful person. He remained as our adjutant until he rejoined his regiment while we were in the Middle East. He eventually commanded the 9th Lancers and was wounded at the Battle of Alamein, as a result of which he died after the war. I remember so well that he used to say, after he had inherited the title, ‘I used to worry about a hundred pounds, now I have to worry about a million pounds.’

  At this stage I was very fortunate as a good friend of mine, Michael Gold, whom I knew in the City, heard that I had joined the Regiment and through his squadron leader applied for me to be posted to his squadron, C Squadron. I had simply no idea that he had joined the Regiment the year before.

  Much to my delight I found another friend of mine in the squadron, Michael Parish. I knew him in London and we used to ride in Hyde Park before going to work. We had also attended various weekend house parties. I had no idea that he had joined the Regiment a couple of years before the war. Peter and Michael Laycock were also officers in the squadron. We had all been at the same preparatory school, Lockers Park, but I had never seen them since those days. Peter was second-in-command to the squadron and Michael a troop leader. All my fellow officers were very friendly and made me feel welcome.

  The other troop leaders were Stephen Mitchell and Dan Ranfurly (The Lord Ranfurly), with whom, for a short time, I had to share 3 Troop.

  My squadron leader was Major Donny Player, of the cigarette family. In spite of being very rich, he was friendly, charming, with a grand sense of humour, very fastidious about his dress and appearance, but at the same time an extremely efficient commander, admired and liked by both officers and men of his squadron.