"After the war, when a man is asked what he did, it will be sufficient to say, 'I marched and fought with the desert army'

 Mr.Winston S. Churchill, Prime Minister - 1943  

MORRIS WYATT

After months working many miles behind lines, seconded to 44 Div. H.Q. Signals on the 21st October I was returned to my own regiment and on the 23rd October was moved forward with two companions in front of the fixed gun emplacements with a wireless set.

These guns were situated several hundred yards apart in circular sandbagged emplacements. When night fell that was all we could see but later on in the night the barrage opened and it appear that the 25 pounders were wheel to wheel.

Before dawn the bombardment ceased and in full light all the guns had disappeared leaving the area as it was when we arrived. The same thing happened the next night and the advance must have begun as we were withdrawn and returned to our unit.  

ALBERT WHELAN

I was a medic with the 3rd Light Field Ambulance

There is always a feeling of apprehension when you know that you are going to a forward position. El Alamein, was no exception, plus the fact that we had to dig a hole large enough to half bury two Marquee's laced together, meant that this was something extra. The usual drill was to pull a large tarpaulin over a superstructure fastened on to a 3 ton Bedford, so we knew a lot more injured were expected.

When the first batch of casualties arrived, all worries seemed to vanish. Everyone knew that there was a job to do, and once you start to look after the wounded, everything just goes like clockwork. Most of the wounded want to know how bad it is, but we were always told to tell them that we had seen worse.

To see a soldier of your own age or maybe younger, who may have to lose a limb, is not a very pleasant sight and it is a terrible shock for the soldier, when there is an amputation, and it takes a lot of care to help him through his traumatic injury. However, you have to try and put it behind you, as soon as you can.  

JOHN SIDEBOTTOM

It was my 31^st birthday on 23rd October 1942.  That was the day the attack went in.

Our unit, the 4th Indian Division Ordnance Field Park was stationed a few miles (possibly 5 or 6) behind the main front line, between the Quattara depression (a very soft stretch of sand impossible for tracked vehicles to cross) and the sea. We were dug in, in our small bivouac tents in the sand and had been advised of the impending attack. At 9.40 p.m. (21.40 hrs) the artillery opened up and quickly a colossal crescendo of fire power occurred. We watched from our tents with awe as the two extremities of the barrage seemed to form a huge inverted 'V' in the night sky.

Although the fire power on subsequent days and nights did not seem so heavy, it is history now that it took several days and nights before the 8th Army tanks and infantry broke through the enemy lines and we ourselves were able to follow up, supporting that marvellous 4th Indian Division (remember the Gurkhas!!) on the successful push to Tunis.

 But what a night to remember - we knew even then that the tide had turned in our favour.  

GEORGE 

George was on duty at an Airfield Control Tower near Alexandria. He had a more leisurely introduction to the battle and was able to take advantage of this before he too was pitchforked into the fray.

The night in question, so far as it affected me, was one of some inaction. I went on duty that night at 2000 hours in the Airfield Control Tower. The airfield was a strip of hard sand between the sea and a huge mosquito infected lake. The airstrip took its name for the Lake - Lake Idku. It was situated just east of the RAF Station Abur Qir (of Lord Nelson fame) and some ten miles east of Alexandria.

When I went on Duty my Duty Officer told me we were on full standby - no flights, but all squadrons on readiness - we had, I think, two fighter squadrons, one twin engined fighter bomber and one Egyptian squadron.

The barrage started in the mid-evening. I would think around 2130. Up to then, of course, we did not know the offensive was due to start. My pal from Sector H.Q. in Alex. rang me about 2200 hrs. and gave us the official news that the long awaited attack had started.

I went off duty at 0400 hrs, had a few hours in bed then I went off to Alex. in the morning with a couple of mates. Alexandria was of course buzzing with speculations and gossip so we did as all good troopers should do, and had a tour of the bars!

LEN WILCOCK 

In mid 1942 I was with the 8th Army almost back to the outskirts of Alexandria, and at the request of the Army, sea and air attacks were stepped up against the forward axis supply port of Mersa Matruh.

On the night of 11-12th July after RAF bombing attacks, I found myself on HMS Beaufort, along with three other ships of the 5th Flotilla (Dulverton, Eridge and Hurworth) engaged in bombarding Mersa, and attacking enemy shipping driven out of the port by the RAF. From that time on several other attacks on Mersa Matru were mounted by RAF and units of the Eastern Med. fleet, up to the army advance from El Alamein.

It was learnt afterwards that as well as enemy ships sunk in and out of Mersa, severe damage was caused to the Port installations, thus depriving Rommel of his forward Base.

JOHN CHATRES

 It was one of those quiet noon-times in a Gentlemen's Club called The Railway Inn, alongside Hale Station in Cheshire. We were talking of this and that, and fairly inevitably amongst those of a certain age the subject of the War came up, then the subject of the Battle of El Alamein. I mentioned that I had played a very inglorious part in the affair, being the Driver of a three-ton Chev containing No.1 Section, First Troop, Seventh Field Squadron RE, which had actually breached two out of the three belts of minefields on SUN track in the Northern Sector.

 I then bored them all by saying one of my sharpest memories was of driving my truck back at first light -- it was one of the few that was still running on all four wheels although we had NO fatal casualties among the lads who had actually lifted the mines -- and of passing 'a Squadron of Shermans in Bright Array' I recalled that a Sergeant commanding -the leading tank -- of the Queen's Bays' -- shouted across, "Did you get through the mines lads?".

We shouted back, "Yes" and us very scruffy looking lot of Sappers were given a cheer by all the Bay's tank commanders as we drove past.

In a history of my unit which appears in that very august publication, The Royal Engineers' Journal of June 1981, I mentioned this little episode as one of my most distinct memories of the whole Battle.

At that point the chap standing next to me in the Railway Inn declared, "I've got news for you mate -- I was that Sherman commander, I remember it well!".

He was Ron Hopkins, recently retired owner of a substantial business in Altrincham. We still meet. Recently I presented him with one of two White Rhino (1st Armoured Division) stickers which I obtained through The Manchester Veteran. Mine adorns the transom of a small and ancient sailing boat which I own; Ron's is on the back window of his car and he says he often thinks he is being pursued by a dangerous beast when he looks in his mirror.

At least we both survived.