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7thBn
XX Lancashire Fusiliers TA |
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Purchased
by
A Silver Guard Mounting Competition Medal |
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7th
Bn XX Lancashire Fusiliers TA
Converted to 354 (Lancashire Fusiliers) Searchlight 39th ( |
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I 354 (Lancashire Fusiliers) Searchlight Battery
RA TA - 39th (
Photo Circa late 1930’s Sergeant
Way’s postings were:- 12th August, 1939 to 23rd
August 1939 Selby 24th August, 1939 to 3rd
September, 1939 4th September, 1939 to 16th
April, 1940 Tabley 17th April, 1940 to 11th
May, 1940 Backley 12th May, 1940 to 10th July,
1940 11th July, 1940 to 25th
October, 1940 26th October, 1940 to 18th
November, 1940 19th November, 1940 to 3rd
December, 1940 4th December, 1940 to 24th
November, 1941 Whaley Bridge 25th December, 1941 to 29th
April, 1942 30th April, 1942 to 15th
December, 1942 16th December, 1942 to 31st
May, 1943 Attleborough (Old Buckenham) 31st May, 1943 to 23rd February,
1944 Kintbury 24th February, 1944 to 7th
August, 1944 Castle 8th August, 1944 to 16th
September, 1944 Sturminster 17th September, 1944 to 14th
February, 1945 Hadleigh, 31st January, 1945 to 14th
February, 1945 Mablethorpe and Bridlington 14th February, 1945 to 28th
May, 1945 Spalding 29th May, 1945 to 31st October,
1945 Moston, 31st October, 1945 Discharged A detailed search of the Internet / World Wide
Web through a number of search engines has shown that although Searchlight
Regiments are mentioned here and there in the context that such and
such a unit existed, little or nothing has actually ever been written
about the Searchlight Regiments of the British Army
during World War 2 The following links to the Royal Artillery Web
Site and the pages shown are believed to be the only accurate record
of the various Searchlight Regiments, Battalions and Batteries available
on the Internet. http://www.ra39-45.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/page3.html http://www.ra39-45.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/slidx/index.html http://www.ra39-45.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/sl/page19.html The following is a newspaper ‘column’
that appeared in the Anniversary
of Historic Commemorated
in Impressive
Parade: Wreaths Laid On War Memorials Members of the Salford Branch of the Lancashire
Fusiliers Old Comrades Association: the 7th Battalion Lancashire
Fusiliers Old Comrades’ Association; and the 354 (Lancashire
Fusiliers) Searchlight On August, 1st, 1759 during the Seven
Years’ War the French were routed by an Anglo- Hanoverian army
under Lord George Sackville and Ferdinand of Brunswick at Thursday’s parade, which assembled at the
Drill hall, Minden Day greetings were sent by Lieutenant Colonel
J. Allen T.D. a former commanding officer of the 39th Regiment
and chairman of the The parade, which was headed by the Windsor Institute
Prize Band, marched by way of An enjoyable concert was held later by the members
of the 345 Searchlight Battery Old Comrades Association at the Drill
Hall, ++++ A large number of +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The following is a newspaper cutting believed
to have been published in March, 1946 possibly in the Salford City
Reporter A.
T. S. Join
Old Comrades “Daily
Dispatch” reporter When a stentorian voice rasped out, “ It was the first reunion of members of the battery
who have returned to civilian life, and Sammy Gill, who was extremely
popular, was there, in mufti, beaming on his boys and girls of what
had become known as A number of A.T.S. in the unit married officers
and other ranks. They were there, including Subaltern Nancy Massey,
wife of Capt. Massey. Amongst the other ranks were Sgt. J Quincey,
who married A.T.S. Pte. G. Pritchard, both of Major George Newton, formerly second – in
– command told me: “It is the first time in Britain that
A.T.S. have joined an Old Comrades Association Other units have tabooed
the idea, but our view was that they were with us in the war and we
want to keep in touch with them in the peace”. From +++ A desk diary containing minutes taken at meetings
of 354 (Lancashire Fusiliers) Searchlight Battery RA TA Old Comrades
Association confirms that the first reunion was held at the Cattle
Market Hotel, Actual size 13” x 9” The above folder was found amongst the documents
and contains the story of 354 Batteries “comings and goings”
between August 1939 and Christmas 1941. It
was written by The original is in extremely poor condition so
it has been rewritten in its entirety “IT’S
‘354’ WE ARE” There are many handicaps in recording war activity
in war time – not least of these being the fine filter of Security
Regulations. Due to this, much exciting narrative and amusing
incidents is excluded from this brief survey of “The Battery”. Our battalion – once the 7th
Lancashire Fusiliers, TA – was one of the early transfers to
searchlights and became 39th ( In those days, when the higher command still cherished
the hope that cavalry had some relationship with horses; an arm of
the Services which embellished its hardware with as much gaily coloured
electric wiring as ourselves; soon graduated as Engineers of Royal
standing! With the battalion traditions in “high dungeon”
and T.S. Ms. in infernally low gear, we had amused ourselves at several
annual camps. Suddenly – Security has long since expired on that unhappy
time of abysmal unreadiness. As most of us know, some truly Gilbertian
situations staged themselves overnight , as the nation struggled frantically
to withdraw the Sword of Freedom from its rusty scabbard. Comic and tragic as were those salutary days of
emergency they were useful beyond measure in ensuring that we all
tested the tonic of reality. In spite of unforeseen handicaps, we
saw clearly, perhaps for the first time, some of the “loopholes
and cracks” which a blessed providence (or forgave!) us twelve
months to repair. August, 1939, presents a very different situation;
the sand is running out and many are convinced of what lies ahead;
most are far from optimism. The annual camp of “354” approaches
and on “The Twelfth” ; a truly prophetic date –
for neither shooting nor grousing has ceased since
- we deploy over pleasant hills and dales to The farm windows blink defiantly back at our shafts
of light which are soon to be the only unshuttered windows in The Bumph Demon, long restricted to such mundane
activity as the torture of searchlight quartermasters (pardon Quartermasters,
searchlight) is becoming quite besides himself in teeth some anticipation
of the feast that lies ahead. Not waiting for the starting gun, he
spits the magic seeds of chaos into Brigade typewriters. To hell with Hitler1 “Let’s be getting
some signatures”, -- Section Officers dash in all directions,
section sergeants curse confused, and sappers catcall into the darkness.
Finally with wagons and cars groaning under the weight of accredited
stores, together with those little items which we feel will be of
greater national service in our hands than those of the “ Sleep is a memory, but finally red-eyed and triumphant
we stagger back to Battalion Headquarters at By this time our friend the Bumph demon, is well
astride his war horse and in new security wields his venom with greater
deliberation; indulging in the piquancy of carbon sandwich, two, three
and finally five deckers, regularly supplying his insatiable appetite. Thus empties once more, this Fusilier stronghold,
and 354 find a long line of responsibility stretching from Macclesfield
to The early days of war are tense indeed -- popular
opinion (still unreliable!) anticipates that we shall be the first
to “go into action!” -
wild conjecture vies with even wilder rumour concerning our
intentions and those of the enemy. The complete absence of the aerial cataclysm that
everyone expects in no way lessen our anticipation – if anything
it rather increases it, on the basis that the cunning Hun seeks only
to prey once more upon out national weakness, wishful thinking, so
that the blow, when it falls, will be more devastating. The weather is good and the men healthy and fit,
soon section are well ahead with all manner of ingenious emplacements
which require skilful drainage schemes. The immediate sub-soil is
solid clay in most case – all this and no issue of riveting
material. A naïve illusion indeed! The Cheshire County Council and other altruistic
organisations soon remedy this shortage, though they are blissfully
unaware of it at the time, and one suspects are so still! It is certainly not for nou’t that these
sons of Many LF veterans are with us and though scornful
of the electrical mysteries of “carbon burning”, profit
from remembered hunger experienced in past campaigns. These strangely
attired worthies have constructed from local “tips” weird
and wonderful field kitchens where the detachment joint sizzles richly
with “two vegs” and “duff” which later threatens
to reverse any sapper’s polarity! Some of us are guarding vital points about Manchester
Docks and the Ship Canal ; some may be seen silhouetted on the top
of Barton Power Station. Report has it that these chaps are sitting
pretty for some of the perquisites of “ Some bright lads have discovered a novel way to
supplement their beer money by digging graves for an overworked sexton
at St. Catherine’s Churchyard. Marker boards glow with luminous paint; while
coloured electric light bulbs indicate equipment positions in the
inky darkness of moonless nights. Back at the area section, officers compete to
produce novel and ingenious schemes by which inadequate supplies and
operational needs can be met. Others have arranged cunning alarm systems
to ensure faster manning times; a necessary precaution as we are at
30 second readiness which requires “some doing.” Company Headquarters at Tabley Hill have their
troubles – inadequate accommodation – tents without boards
– no water – all roads becoming quagmired – little
or no communication and some peculiar ex civilian transport. This latter problem soon becomes quite acute –
this vast area has to be rationed daily and the contractors’
lorries of uncertain vintage start developing a succession of more
or less troublesome breakdowns. The MT staff
have only a windswept marquee as a workshop and as the winter
makes itself felt this becomes more difficult to manage – lorries
are constantly getting bogged down; so sweating swearing sappers heave
at the wheels and dig in cinders for better grip. About this time the G.O.C., 4th A.A.
Division, pays his first visit to us and expresses general approval
at progress in the area; special praise is given to Field Site at
Poever which is selected as exemplary for certain constructional features. There is still no enemy action, and it is now
October, work is going well, but a new spectre appears – boredom
among the men has been overlooked in our anxiety to press on with
constructional work. Football matches are soon organised and welfare
from various sources proves of golden worth. Among the many kind neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Lester
Warren whose estate is in the area, lend their private theatre for
E.N.S.A. shows and the “boys” appreciate it a lot. Much
talent is discovered in section personnel and soon, as pianos are
secured, hut concerts get going; these are highly entertaining due
possibly to the lack of censorship over the lyric writers. The Regional Commissioner at this time, Sir Warren
Fisher pays a call at Company Headquarters and is very interested
to see how, with considerable improvisation, our telephone system
now reaches the remotest detachment via section headquarters exchanges.
Plotting exercises, hitherto impossible, now get into their stride
and the new searchlight control centre express satisfaction with the
speed of transmission. About this time our first shot is fired –
by a sentry who hearing suspicious noises at night near the equipment,
challenged twice without success. Having loosed off one for luck,
considerable commotion ensues, but all that is discovered is one pair
of flannel trousers! The newly formed 53rd A.A. Brigade takes over our battalion from the
44th as from November, 1st 1939. Winter is setting in and soon snow falls heavily. The cold is intense and anti – freeze precautions
on generator and road vehicles have to be re-doubled; even so some
cars freeze up while running on the road. The winter is recorded as
the most severe for the last 100 years, many sites become snowbound
and section officers have to struggle around with rum rations, while
food in some cases is manhandled on sledges improvised from duckboards.
Such conditions last for several months, but despite such handicaps
and with the welcome assistance of local farmers and others, Christmas,
1939, goes off well. Extra food is secured for all, with Christmas
puddings from N.A.A.F.I. We have a queer, motley throng about our Company
Headquarters Cookhouse and it is hard to keep anything remotely clean
or hygienic; a veritable sea of slush by the gumboots of batmen and
cookhouse orderlies. An old soldier is in charge here and boasts a
stripe for his responsibilities. One day in the absence of our bugler
this enterprising lad proceeds to sound “cookhouse” himself
– the writer witnessed this amazing display; after producing
a most horrific belly shaking discord into which he put all that was
left of his Woodbine scarred lungs; he was leaning exhausted against
the cookhouse wall, when, over the top appears the greasy dial of
one of his scullions who says, “You’d better go and tell
them Corp!” We have done our best with the unfavourable conditions
at Tabley, but the continued shortage of hutting makes it necessary
to find requisitioned quarters. These are located at Baguley, some
miles from the centre of our area, but with good main road communications.
Stores are moved in advance, as much plumbing, etc., has to be effected.
Finally we occupy Baguley House in force, and start spreading ourselves
in the novel luxury of dry quarters. But our comfort is short-lived. Extra illumination is urgently required on the
East Coast and we are selected. The battalion soon after our departure
leave for Orkney Defences. Very soon we prepare to hand over the previous
plots on which so much initiative and energy have been expended. By
this time Newhall Farm section headquarters is a show site indeed
and has attracted many distinguished visitors who declare it one of
the best in the A.D.G.B. The new hutting scale has been effected in
full here, and it resembles a miniature village. Before we leave Cheshire several exercises are
held with the co-operation of local auxiliary services – A.F.S.,
women’s ambulance corps, wardens, etc., The demonstrations are
well attended and highly spectacular; friendly aircraft bomb the site
where upon dummy casualties and pre-arranged fires are created –
ambulances driven by “smashing blondes” career over the
field. (These ladies seem to dress more to demonstrate personal charms
than grim reality). A good time is had by all. The wardens and A.F.S.
shower all and sundry with water from stirrup pumps in some what abortive
efforts to quell fires, which, on some occasions threatened to become
“to true to be good.” However all this helps to test the
communications and get everyone more “in focus” against
what is to come. The movement order arrives at last and we are
destined for the New equipment has to be collected and specially
selected convoys go ahead for this purpose. The rest of us are going
through the sleepless process of handing over and packing up, with
all their unexpected “jams” and irritations. Finally we
rendezvous at Cross Lane Drill Hall. All The wives and sweethearts keep pace with their
husbands and swains, but soon find the going too hard for high heels.
So these are removed and the journey completed in stocking feet! London
Road Station looks at its gloomiest as we entrain and after last minute
checks by the company sergeant major and officers, we pull out in
the welter of indiscriminate osculation. Everyone collapses into welcome
oblivion which seems over all too soon, for we arrive at We look and feel like the great unwashed. Nothing
much happened for some considerable time and we stand out in the cold,
hungry and discontent. After a while odd officers of the 44th
(Leicestershire) S/L Regt., R.A., to whom we are posted, filter along
and view us with distaste. Our baggage, by this time spewed all over the
station yard, has to be seen to be believed – we are certainly
nomadic! Finally there is a stir in the crowd and the Leicestershire’s
Colonel, straight from his bathtub, descends upon us. He is immaculate,
and bears the soft odour of lotions in his wake. We
all feel much dirtier as a result! The Distances around section are made worse by tortuous
irrigation schemes, canals, etc. and the “so near and yet so
far” situation is constantly recurring. One section has 110
miles round its six stations. By this time the situation in “All officers will go armed---all
vehicles will carry rifles and ammunition” The Bumph demon, smarting from all he has lost
in Enemy aircraft come over us in increasing numbers
and bombs are being dropped too near to be “laughed off”. Strange lights appear on deserted Fenlands. A
large expanse of carefully bridged dykes surrounding beet fields is
discovered and arrests follows. Germanic voices come through our R/T
sets and all is tense with anticipation. A somewhat disconcerting feature of this period
is the endless stream of evacuated Closer inspection, however, indicates the “far-
sightedness” of our evil friend, who doubtless has our next
campaign in mind; for the wood is three foot high! We suspect our winged brothers in arms fly almost
too high for the demon and in respect for their achievement we live
in uneasy proximity to paraffin flares which help the forward dromes
each night; when comforting numbers of “big chaps” crawl
over well leaden with “atter” not unsuitable for the waiting
Jerry! In
this direction the coincident installations of slit trenches with
the flares proves sound foresight. Rumour is rife -
we are about to move. This develops in the usual unreliable
lines and our next deployment is confidently forecast to be several
places between Due to special nature of out next assignment it
is necessary to split the company into parts – so two sections
push on to Southampton and Company Headquarters and other two sections
go on to Bristol. This severed state continued for six months during
which the two “lost sections” form a somewhat homogenous
whole and blossom forth as the “half battery”, However,
as the song goes, “But we don’t speak of that now”
(for best reasons known to the O.C., Battery and the Demon”). In both Southampton and Bristol any previous lack
of first – hand experience with the enemy made good and we had
a great deal of bombing, and ground strafing also on occasions. In
the latter case the “boys” proved that they had not been
maintaining their Lewis Guns for over a year for “nou’t” - as a number of Heinkels had cause to remember. Security Regulations regrettably prevent a detail
of the many amusing and exciting experiences which befell both half
companies. On Minden Day, 1941, by a strange coincidence, the 39th
Battalion became officially an
R.A. Regiment, and while wearing their roses sappers became gunners,
corporals bombardiers and section troops – but we still have
our LF cap badge and LF buttons (all of em!). To digress from our diary of events for a moment
- one of our “old sweats” is quaffing a pint in
the local when in comes three In all the section of This time the battery moves further west into
the Battery Headquarters resumes at the recently vacated
At last, when all are getting a trifle irked by
the Commandant’s circus each day -- regardless of the one displayed
by Richtofens successor each night – orders for a “home
James” for the North, and our former Brigade area once more.
Our advance party left for Lancashire when our old pal, The Demon,
swallows another “five decker” and the Getting to bed at 0130 hours and rising for the
convoy at 0500 hours makes us all feel “a bit grey” (as
an air sentry once said to the O.C. when asked the colour of the sky
of the day!) but the caravan moves off to time looking as usual like
an Arabian camel train. By this time our well supplemented stores
range from acquired bedsteads to chemical closets. Gunner’s
kits bulged with “perks”, all of which in some mysterious
manner lashed together by alarming quantities of D.8 Wire. Lewis Guns
are as usual ready for action slung on the backs of all lorries and
attended by the boys sprawled over the heaving mass of kit bags with
the nonchalance of harem beauties. Every time we stop (and it is rarely as nature
will permit) harassed troop officer find long familiar faces leaning
out of bedroom windows flourishing cups of tea and teapots at their
less fortunate colleagues. Great hilarity and goodwill to all (and
women) is the spirit which inspires our convoys but it is not so funny
for the officers in charge at the time, though it always seems so
in retrospect. Derbyshire is finally reached in good order, a
night being spent at Prees Heath where we sleep in racing stables
and make up a few shortages in eating utensils from the hand that
feeds us; causing much delay in what proves, of course, to be an abortive
kit inspection. Derbyshire greets us with a screaming blizzard
and driving rain and with increasing amazement and apprehension troop
lorries crawl over 2,000 feet mountain slopes and deposit their indescribable
contents in places from which even the sheep have been removed for
shelter! Our bedraggled and battle-scarred canvas is hardly equal
to this and we soon get into barns, lofts, pigsties, in fact anything
that gives some semblance of protection from the December blast. This is the toughest proposition yet – operational
men have to endure tented conditions right through the winter, and
we slave at emplacements --
officers and men perspiring together, in some of the light projectors
with the reflectors off. Some sites are cut off for a week at a time
by snow, but excellent rations solve the food problem. Battery is
established at The boys do their stuff once more and in the face
of all this indescribable difficulty, our maintenance is held up as
exemplary. Well hutted and plumbed batteries are brought over to se
how it can be done in spite of everything. Christmas, 1940, threatens to be tragic one. The
worst cases we get home first, and the others as soon as possible. Gradually we lick circumstances and by time spring
comes really good sites have been hacked out of these Derbyshire
heights. Summer arrives and one can enjoy the true beauty of the area.
In spite of great distances from other habitation the boys have grown
to like the environment , and the gruelling weather has strangely
enough made everyone fitter, so that when we hear of out impending
move to amenities. So here we are at last in With the battery commander all officers doff their
hats to “The Boys”, in sincere respect for their stolid
reliability and “guts” in face of changing The End |
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. The plaque above was purchased from E bay by Capt
(retd) Joe Eastwood B.E.M.
CQSW The Autograph Book shown below was found within
the discovered folder and contains numerous personnel messages from
former members of the ‘354’ Actual size 5” x 3”
The following names have been taken from
the Autograph Book
Where doubt exists as to a name I have
shown it in italics having taken my best stab at deciphering ' scribble
'. "Bod" Capt.
RA Lord
Damron of
Penn John
B Capt RA Eva
Richardson (Yaxley 28.11.42) J.L.
Blake E.
Pywell B
Bluer Chas
Wainwright T
or J Crawford F H E or M E Stone Ken Dorothy
27.4.43 J
B Dean L/Sgt ?
Allan Maurice
Hawkins Lueielaa
Khewhegis Bill
McCling Sgt
RA D
Smith Capt. July 28th 45 Brenda Drawbridge Believed
to be a nickname U.K.S Iris
Osbourne Ken
Issacs Norman
Collinson Capt. RA G Quincey D.R.
Ashton Marian
G Pritchard John Lowry Greenup L/Bdr J
Trueman Herbert
Robinson Joan
E Davis Harold
Wilcock J
Purcell Jimmy
Smith J
Cowan Ethel Leslie
Sam
Begaurs Whaley Bridge 1939 1945 Frank Balber Overseas Club George
Hewton Capt RA E.O
Symonds Lt. REME (Hocus) David
Massey Capt RA Douglas
Reid Lt. RA Woods E.M.
Thompson Joan
" Smudgy" Robert
Rendall Lt. RA Wood Lt.RA Sadie
DingA. Howarth Dobbie Jeth
Cochrane Sgt REME Jimmy
Grant S/Sgt Mona S.J. Mandell Margaret
L Bussey Jean
Wearing L.J
Pritchett Ilinois G.
Allder There
are a number of other names but it is impossible to decipher the signatures |
