Arnhem

The next morning, from the woods opposite, they heard a heavy engine start and rev up to a high scream. ‘The trees swayed, and then fell straight towards us till they lay flat along the ground. The snub nose of a tank appeared, a Tiger armed with a flame-thrower.’ Another trench took the first blast of liquid fire. ‘We heard the screams of our men as the flames enveloped their dug-out.’ The tank now worked its way along the line, ‘vomiting fire’. With no anti-tank mortars to engage it, only rifles, resistance was futile. ‘There was nothing we could do. We jumped out of our trenches and ran back into the shelter of some trees.’ In reality, Ennis wasn’t so much running as just managing to stay upright and walk. ‘I had become so weak, my knees could barely support me and my lungs were tearing through my chest.’ He would be easy prey for the line of German infantry following in the tank’s wake.

He made it to the trees and flopped into a trench in a clearing. The tank came relentlessly on, and he prayed, ‘Please, please, dear God help us.’ Then he spotted on one side of the clearing the camouflaged remains of a 17-pounder anti-tank gun, covered in branches. Its tyres had been blown off and the barrel was stuck in one position. But could it be made to work? Its crew looked just as battered. One was dead and the other three dispirited, but Ennis managed to rouse them to action as the German tank came closer, its caterpillar tracks clanking into a position – ‘by a miracle, definitely a miracle’ – directly in line with the otherwise useless airborne gun. The tank was broadside on and just a few yards from the barrel when the gunner fired. ‘There was a blinding flash and a sound that killed all sound. The tank heeled over, its side obliterated by a gaping jagged hole. Slowly the turret lid opened, a head and shoulders appeared and then collapsed. The Hun sagged over the edge of his turret, blood gushing from his mouth and running down to the ground.’ The infantry following behind it wavered. Then they turned and ran. Ennis leapt from his trench and, despite a bullet wound in his leg, led a charge after them, the British troops firing as they went. He was proud to report that only ‘a small proportion’ of the enemy got away.

It was, of course, a short-term victory. The Germans came back with more firepower. Mortars and shells thudded into his new position, collapsing the sides of his dug-out. ‘My eyes were full of dust and soil and it was impossible to see. The air was heavy with cordite. I thought it was the end.’ But he survived this onslaught, though his rifle did not. The latest explosion split the barrel and smashed the stock. He re-armed himself by crawling out into the open, to where the body of a young officer lay. ‘I removed the Colt .45 sticking out from his holster, but his ammunition pouch was empty. There were just three rounds in the magazine, but I managed to scrounge some more from two blokes in the next trench. I collected about a hundred rounds of .45. I was now happy.’ But this was what it had come to – dead men’s weapons and cadged bullets.

Ennis had a new mate alongside him, a man called Billy, into whose trench he had fallen. Heads down as far away from the mortars as they could get, they considered their chances of rescue. ‘Billy was the most cheerful fellow I ever met, nothing daunted him, and he was optimistic that the Second Army was not far away. “They won’t be long,” he said. “Listen, you can hear them now.” Indeed we could hear the sound of distant battle, but we had heard it every day, and each day we tried to convince ourselves that it was a little closer. The thought of being relieved at any moment kept us going.’ Billy fished out photos of his wife and two little children from his wallet and passed them over for inspection. ‘I know he was wondering whether he would ever see them again.’ Ennis had no snaps of his own to show, but he did have photos he’d taken from the pocket of his pilot, who had been killed on landing, and which he had promised himself he would return to the man’s relatives. ‘One was a postcard-size picture of a girl. The leather frame was damp and soggy now and the picture itself was showing a few mud stains. The girl was wearing a nurse’s uniform – I felt it was rather appropriate for the occasion.’