Sgt Price, 8th KRI Hussars
It was about 4.00 am on Saturday, 3rd August 1940, when I was roused from my slumbers by the SSM “Come on Sgt Price, wake up!” Get your men up, you are on patrol, shall give you details later”.
It didn’t seem five minutes ago when I got down by the side of my tank hoping for a decent night’s sleep. I went and roused my three tank crews who were snoring their heads off under the tank tarpaulins. “Cpl Clarke! Wilmshurst! Come on, out of it, get your men cracking we are moving out straight away.” I could hear a few curses under their breath but they did not hang about. They were used to these interrupted slumbers.
At this time I was the troop leader of No. 3 Troop, ‘B’ Squadron, 8th K.R.I. Hussars, 7th Armoured Division and we were about seven miles inside the “wire” in Libyan territory. I would like to explain what the “wire” is. It is a mass of barbed wire stretching from Sollum on the coast to hundreds of miles due south, dividing Libya from Egypt.
I never did see the end of this wire. It was about 8 feet high and 20 feet wide. There had been quite a few gaps made in it to enable our tanks to get through. “Cpl Clarke get along and draw the day’s rations.” Replenishing of petrol and ammunition was carried out the night before and in 20 minutes we were ready to move out. “Sgt Price!” “Coming Sgt Major, ” “You will patrol the Sidi Aseiz and Port Capuzzo Road, you know the area, keep in touch.” We had patrolled this area on a number of occasions without anything to report.
My troop consisted of three Mk.VI light tanks with a crew of three, tank commander, wireless operator/gunner and driver. Our armament was one .5 ” and .303 ” machine gun, co-axially mounted in a 360-degree traverse turret. Each tank was equipped with a wireless for communication with each other and my set was also in communication with Squadron Headquarters.
Rations for the nine of us consisted of one tin of bacon, a tin of jam, 6 packets of biscuits (very hard), tea, sugar and a tin of milk. Each tank had a primus stove and basic cooking utensils. Whilst on patrol the tanks are well dispersed and it was not practical for us all to get together for a meal so we would toss-up for the rations before moving out so there would be one lucky crew out of the three, the others would have to wait until they got back to camp where generally a bully stew would be waiting provided the rations got up safely.
Well, off we went on this very cold Saturday morning and believe me it can get cold when that sun has buried itself for the night, you start wrapping up then. I had worked out the map reference and bearing beforehand and used the stars as our guide and just as it was getting light we were in our patrol area. My tanks moved out to their correct dispersal distances, then we would settle down to what we thought would be another boring day.
The duties of a patrol are to observe and report and to avoid involvement. We had not been in our positions very long when I sighted a column of transport moving east from the direction of Sidi Aseiz. My other two tanks had also spotted them and reported to me.
When we could see a little more clearly, as they were quite a way off, I saw that they were being escorted by small tanks. We did know that the Italians had small two-man tanks although none had previously been seen and I presumed that these were they.
I kept Squadron H.Q.informed what was happening. On spotting us the tanks got into a hulled down position facing us. I should say there were about a dozen and we could just see the tops of them as they stayed behind a ridge. I ordered my troop to advance cautiously and I informed Squadron H.Q. of my intentions. I was given the O.K. to engage them when in range. As we ventured forward they moved back and joined in the rear of the transport column which was still proceeding towards Fort Capuzzo.
I received orders not to follow and return to our former patrol area. It looked as though we were not going to warm up our guns today. We had not been in position very long when I noticed something moving away to my left. On looking through my binoculars I could make out what looked like two men on motorcycles. It seemed as though they were staring at us. Then more came up. I could distinctly see now that they were motorcyclists and some had sidecars.
There were now about two dozen of them and they were now in a group staring across at us. They must have thought that we were their own tanks because they mounted their machines, formed up in pairs behind each other and carried on their way and their direction was bringing them nearer to us in an oblique line.
I received instructions to engage them. I told my crew commanders to await my orders before opening fire.
“Cpl Clarke, you take on the left flank, I shall engage the centre and Cpl Wilmshirst the right flank. Stand by! Fire!” You never saw such a happy party broken up so quickly in all your life. They were so surprised that they had no time to take evasive action. We accounted for all but two and these raced back in the direction they had come and were soon out of sight. “Cease Fire!”
We waited a little while, then we dismounted to inspect the dead and wounded and to see if there were any company or divisional markings on their machines or uniforms. There did not appear to be any survivors but all of a sudden a machine gun started spluttering close at hand. “Get back to your tanks, quick ” I shouted. “Cpl Clarke, your crew O.K.?” Yes, Sarge.” “Cpl Wilmshurst?” “Yes, Sarge, all here.” As I was scanning the area for this machine gun a shout from my gunner “Over there Sarge, behind that scrub.” “O.K .” I shouted, “Get on to them”. He gave them a burst.
There were two of them, one of them got up with his hands in the air, the other I presumed had had it. I drew my revolver and beckoned him over to my tank. He didn’t need any encouragement, he ran to me. He was a big fellow, about 30 I would say. He was very poorly clad, a thin blue denim jacket and trousers, socks and plimsolls. No identification marks whatsoever.
I informed S.H.Q. I had this fellow and I was instructed to bring him in. He was rattling off in Italian but I am afraid I could not understand a word with the exception of the name Mussolini mentioned a few times.
Whilst getting the prisoner onto my tank a shout went up from Cpl Clarke. “Look, Sarge, over there on your left” and he pointed in the direction where the motorcyclists came from. There were four large enemy tanks bearing down on us. They turned out to be M11’s, much larger than ours with superior firepower. “Turn about” I ordered, “Make for the burnt-out lorry”. This was a huge enemy transport vehicle that hit a mine and was a very conspicuous landmark.
I informed Squadron H.Q. of what was happening and Major Cripps said that he was sending up some support, No. 2 Troop. This troop was commanded by Sgt McMaster, a very great friend of mine – we joined up together way back in 1928.
When we reached the lorry I gave the order to halt and turn about. During all this time the prisoner had been hanging on for his life on the gun mounting and now that he was facing his own guns he started to shout his head off. I did not intend to lose him and made him get inside the turret. If one has any knowledge of Mk. VI light tanks they will know that they were not designed for three in the turret, but I forced him in.
The enemy was still advancing but by now there were not four, it was more like 34. They were now in range and I gave the order to fire. I don’t think our .5 inch or .303 were doing much damage. My gunner was finding it almost impossible to operate the guns with the prisoner leaning on top of him.
I informed S.H.Q. of the situation, stating that we were outnumbered and outgunned. “Move back to SHQ I have also ordered 2nd Troop back”, instructed Major Cripps. “Turn about, we are making for SHQ,” I ordered my troop. “Any casualties Cpl Clarke?” “No Sarge”. “How about you, Cpl Wilmshurst?” “OK Sarge”. “Well done, get moving.”
I could see the other three tanks of 2nd Troop on my left and they appeared to be in good order. I talked to “Mac” on the set. “What do you think of it, ‘Mac ‘? ” “A bit bloody hot Taff why did you have to start this lot? ” “Not much option I am afraid ‘Mac’, see you later.”
I was hoping the enemy would stop at the burnt-out lorry but on they came. I could see some of our tanks in the distance so I made for them. The first thing I wanted to do was to get rid of the prisoner – it was getting impossible in the turret. The tanks turned out to be the H.Q. of ‘A’ Squadron and they were preparing to get into action against the enemy tanks which were still coming on.
I told the prisoner to get out and handed him over to the flabbergasted crew of one of their tanks. “What the hell! We don’t want him. ” “Neither do I,” I said, “I have had him long enough.” I made out ‘B’ Squadron a little way on my left so I left the prisoner and made off to join the remainder of my Squadron. The Squadron Leader told me over the set that the gunners were being called up to support. These were the 3rd R.H.A . with their 25 pounders.
During the battle, two of our tanks collided, carried on for a few yards, then stopped. Major Cripps dashed back with his tank and managed to rescue one crew, but I am afraid the enemy reached the other tank first and presumably took the crew prisoners. The crew picked up by Major Cripps turned out to be `Mac’, his gunner and driver. The battle raged until dusk then quietened down.
When it got dark we sent patrols forward to reconnoitre as we could still hear movements of tanks, but coming no nearer. We stayed in the area all night and on first light, our forward patrols reported that the battle area was clear of tanks, even our two that collided.
They must have towed their casualties away and returned to lick their wounds for a return match sometime later. Our only casualties turned out to be the captured crew, Sgt Pippard and his men. I have just heard that the prisoner died. It appears he was hit by his own guns when we turned to face the enemy and just prior to me getting him inside the tank.
The Squadron Leader came over and had a chat with me. He appeared to be pleased with the way things had gone especially as it was our first encounter with the enemy at close quarters. The prisoner I had taken was the first in the North African Campaign. Major Cripps was eventually awarded the D.S.O. and I was mentioned in General Wavell’s Despatches.
“Sgt Price”. Hullo, here comes the SSM “When you have replenished with petrol, water and ammunition your troop will be on patrol, but a different area, we want a decent night’s sleep “, and he winked and walked off.
