Cliff described some 6th Brigade training manoeuvres in the Syrian desert to give “some idea of life with the Infantry”. He wrote this in the 1990s. It certainly wouldn’t have passed the censor in his letters home. ~ Ian
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First, Cliff described a night attack upon an imaginary enemy…
24, 25 and 26 Battalions with supporting arms were assembled before dark for the attack. Each Battalion had its own objective for the attack, which began in pitch black darkness. Controlling a formation like this in daylight usually results in a good deal of stress, bad temper and an element of chaos. In darkness, a good deal of expertise and navigation is absolutely essential, and in my experience rarely available. Stars are not always visible, and landmarks are difficult to identify. Timing is also very important if infantry are to have the support of medium machine gun fire and artillery fire. Reach your objective ahead of the programme and you may be shelled by your own guns. Arrive later and the enemy has had time to recover from the bombardment and is well prepared to receive you.
On this occasion I was Brigadier Clifton’s radio operator, receiving messages from the various units and sending instructions and orders. My impression was that it resulted in an utter shambles. The units became mixed up and disorganised in the dark. Some claimed that they knew where they were. If they did, it’s certain that a hell of a lot of others didn’t. I sent a message to all units to call a halt at about 11 pm.
It would take at least two hours for the infantry to sort themselves out and get something to eat. They were still on the move long after we had turned in, following supper prepared by Clifton’s batman.
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On another day a Company of infantry was used in an experiment. I think it may have been a Company from 24 Battalion but I can’t remember for sure. The idea was that they were to attack against an imaginary enemy, supported by mortars installed in Bren Carriers and medium machine guns. Live ammunition was to be used.
Completely ignorant about what was to happen, I had followed Brigadier Clifton to the top of the hill in my truck, where we were joined by other senior officers. I sat in my truck with earphones on and watched developments. A grand view. Below us on a long flat which sloped gently to our left were the infantry and several Bren Carriers.
I called up the Battalion with a message from Clifton to start the exercise when they were ready. The MMGs began firing from a position to the left rear of the company on slightly higher ground, and the mortars opened fire as the infantry began to advance. It went roughly like this.
One Section would provide covering fire from a prone position whilst another advanced on foot. Then that Section went to ground and provided covering for the other, and so it went on. As the advance continued the mortars on the Carriers moved forward, stopping every 200 yards or so to fire a few more rounds. They didn’t fire when on the move. The MMGs fired almost continuously.
The mortars were supposed to explode at a safe distance ahead of the infantry, and concentrate on any enemy positions that became apparent. They fired a few smoke bombs that would have confused our blokes as much as the enemy, and so the exercise continued.
It went reasonably well for quite a while and then things started to go wrong. A mortar is not an accurate weapon at the best of times and each time a carrier stopped it was probably necessary to fire a ranging shot. I don’t know anything about mortars so I can’t be sure of that, but I did know from painful experience what it was like on the receiving end, so when I saw bombs exploding amongst the forward infantry I became more than a little concerned, for there seemed to be no reaction from the assembled officers.
When I saw two men go down, obviously hit, I just had to do something about it. Jumping out of the truck I confronted Brigadier Clifton and asked him if he’d seen this. My annoyance must’ve been very obvious to him, but nothing was going to deter me from trying to bring a halt to this, to me, insanity.
There was no problem. He said, “Contact the Battalion and tell them to call it off.”
This I did, and it ended abruptly. Such is the life of an infantryman.