Wolfheze

Frank, at the age of 19, moved from Wolfheze east towards Arnhem, passing Hartenstein. En route there was a Dutch family that spoke some English, jubilant that they were liberated. They danced and cheered, presenting glasses of milk to some and pieces of truit grown in their gardens, I stuffed an apple into my pocket and kept the Bren gun I now carried in a firing position, trigger finger poised, eyes searching all round constantly. Delighted with the locals reception, some of our troops shared ration chocolate and cigarettes. The Dutch looked so pleased with the sheer strength and numbers of our force, the woods, tracks and roads feeding troops onward to Arnhem like a trail of ants.

Oosterbeek

At Oosterbeek some were detailed to set up a position facing Arnhem some way to our front. I was among those instructed to man this building and in street area adjoining the houses. With Captain Dodwell being shot and badly wounded whilst alongside me in the trench at Wolfheze, I was now feeling heavy hearted, hoping the worst was behind us. We spoke with some of the local Dutch folk that were slowly disappearing from the streets and houses. We were glad to see a few stay, but these locals soon vanished as the sound of conflict grew and came closer.

The battle itensifies

One of the 6 pounder anti-tank guns had moved up to this junction point and dug into the garden of our large house on the east corner of Oosterbeek with a good view of the road into Arnhem, about a mile or so from the bridge. This defensive position felt like a good point, offering some cover and a field of view. Detailing off to the upstairs window of this house above the 6 pounder gun was where I set up my Bren gun, pleased this was such a good vantage point. To my front looking directly east was the bridge at Arnhem, to my rear the road led off in a generally westerly trunk towards Utrecht.

By now we knew things had not gone according to plan, then we received what was the worst news we could have had and at that time we knew we were in for quite a rough time ahead. Word had come from our position commander, a glider pilot captain, and it was bad, our worst fears being there was at least one whole German SS division between us and 2 Para and supporting forces.

Cut off

We were efietively cut off from the British position around the bridge. The intensity of the battle had constantly increased and the feeling in the air was terrifying. We were by now subjected to constant, ground shakings heavy shelling. All feared for our lives.

After the war

Frank became a fine and loving, devoted father to his 5 children.

By Tan Hughes, Frank' son. The story is an excerpt from Tan's book about his father 'Arnhem Veteran'