Arnhem

By now, the countryside was petering out and the frontmarkers were moving into the increasingly built-up area on the outskirts of Arnhem. Brooker was astonished to see civilians coming out from their houses. ‘Old men, kids and women threw flowers, right in the middle of the battle.’ He was concerned that this joyous welcome was slowing them up. James Sims felt the same as, the deeper they penetrated into Arnhem, the more crowded the street became. ‘One young Dutchman was charging about on a bike completely drunk and offering swigs of gin to one and all. Our officer lost his temper and threatened to shoot him and any of us who touched a drop. We were losing time and he realized that this semi-triumphal entry into Arnhem was not going to last.’ To the right now lay the railway bridge across the Rhine, which the battalion had hoped to capture on the way – the more bridges the merrier. As riflemen approached it, the Germans defending it opened fire. A fierce fight began, which was punctuated by a huge explosion. ‘Jerry had blown up its southern end, so denying us its use.’ Passing by the spot a few minutes later, Sims saw a young British soldier propped up against a wooden seat where, on a different Sunday, strollers might stop for a stunning view of the river. ‘His legs were buckled under him and his helmet removed. His battle-blouse was soaked with blood. Out of a waxen face his eyes stared past us into eternity. We crept by as quietly as possible as though afraid of waking him from that dread sleep.’

Up front, the head of the advancing column was meeting ever stiffer opposition. A cry of ‘Tanks!’ went up, and the thought of panzers in their path produced a shiver of fear among the infantrymen. But a jeep filled with anti-tank specialists came roaring up from the rear of the column, whooping and cheering as they brandished their trademark PIAT¹ weapons. ‘They vanished round a bend in the road and there followed a succession of shots and shouts, then a single loud explosion. The menace had been dealt with.’ But whatever element of surprise the column had hoped to have on its side was all but gone. From the other bank of the river, German heavy machine guns opened up and, though, over that distance, the salvoes were pretty harmless, they signified that the chances of an easy, unopposed seizure of the bridge were diminishing with every minute. Ahead of him, Sims could hear more firing as the riflemen leading the advance fought for possession of a pontoon bridge across the river, until a loud explosion announced that it had gone the same way as the railway bridge. ‘Once again, Jerry had beaten us to it.’ The dead and dying from the contact were lying at the northern end of the pontoon and, as he passed, Sims got the chance to stare his enemy in the face for the first time. He was not impressed. ‘Some of the German casualties were SS. ‘I was curious to see what these supermen looked like but, apart from their distinctive uniform, they were just like us. One was badly wounded and terrified we were going to shoot him. He was screaming and carrying on something shocking. Our lieutenant waved a .45 at him and that shut him up.’

Now – with the railway bridge and the pontoon bridge gone – the last unblown crossing over the Rhine was the Arnhem road bridge itself, still half a mile away. Sims could see the top of its huge single span and the strutted frame underneath. The sight of it had the same impact on Lancashire-born Leo Hall as seeing Blackpool Tower when he was a boy on his holidays: ‘a special memory of my childhood’. He was as excited now as he was then, ‘seeing the thing that we’d come to capture’.