CHAPTER 7: INTERLUDE:
REST AND TRAVEL 13 Sept 1944 - 7 Oct 1944
7.1 The Broad Picture: surge to Antwerp, failure at
Arnhem
While the 9th were finishing the battles of the
bridges and taking part in the capture of Le Havre momentous battles were being
fought elsewhere. To understand why we moved or stood still we have to look at
what was happening elsewhere in France and NW Europe from late August onwards.
On 25 August the 43rd Wessex Division forced the
crossing of the Seine at Vernon. This allowed Brian Horrocks, commanding 30
Corps, to assemble an armoured striking force on the east bank for a massive
surge north east to Brussels and Antwerp. On 31 August this force crossed the
Somme between Amiens and Villers Bretonneux, on 3 September it was at Brussels,
and on 4 September entered Antwerp. It appeared that the German army had given
up, and the roads to Holland and the Ruhr were nearly clear. Unfortunately this
was not so. The combination of a slow-down by the allied forces and the
commitment of all German troops – particularly paratroops – to the defence of
the Albert and Escaut canals of northern Belgium blunted the allied drive.
Brian Horrocks considered that the happenings of the days 3 to 7 September in
effect meant that the war was going to last into 1945.
30 Corps crossed the Escaut Canal on 10 September, and
there grouped to form the land arm of Operation Market Garden. This operation
consisted of the dropping of airborne divisions at St. Oedenrode,
Grave-Nijmegen, and Arnhem, and the linking of these divisions by the land arm.
This would breach the Rhine, and allow allied forces then to swing north into
Holland and south east to the Ruhr. German forces in Holland would be isolated
from Germany, the source of much of German war material would be destroyed, and
the war could well end in 1944.
The airborne divisions landed during the afternoon of
17 September, and Z-hour for the Guards Armoured Division, leading 30 Corps,
was 1435 hours on that day. The land forces linked up with the 101 US Airborne
at St. Oedenrode and the 82 US Airborne between Grave and Nijmegen, and the
bridges over the rivers Maas and Waal were captured. But the bridge at Arnhem
over the Neder Rijn was "a bridge too far", and the remnants of 1
British Airborne finally withdrew on 26 September.
The implications of all this for 9 RTR were two.
First, after the capture of Le Havre on 12 September other units of the
Canadian Army were already well up the coast. The siege of Boulogne took place
between 17 and 23 September, and that of Calais between 25 September and 1
October. Both towns were captured by the 3rd Canadian Division. During much of
this period 9 RTR were given time to rest and refit. When the withdrawal from
Arnhem was complete the 9th, as part of 34 Armoured Brigade, were ready to move
up to Holland to help stabilize and extend the allied salient leading from the
Belgian border to Nijmegen and beyond.
While the 9th rests from the 13th to the 29th of
September 1944, it is an opportunity to look at a matter of great concern to
any soldier in a front-line unit – what hapened if you were wounded?
7.2 Wounds, Sickness, and their aftermath
The 9th suffered 244 casualties during the course of
the campaign in NW Europe and of these 68 were killed, 9 taken prisoner, and
167 wounded. A few of these wounds were caused by malfunctions of the tank
armament, such as the besa blow back resulting in Dickie Hall's injuries on 29
June. The great majority, however, were caused by enemy action. They can be
grouped into five main types:
armour-piercing
(AP) shot hitting a tank or other vehicle and causing wounds or amputations
AP
shot causing the tank to catch fire or "brew", generally by igniting
some or all of the ammunition stowed in the tank; this could be made worse if
the petrol or hydraulic lines were fractured and caught on fire
shelling
or mortaring when crews of all echelons were outside their vehicles – and when
they were in them sometimes, particularly in the case of soft skinned vehicles
mines,
which were designed either to damage vehicles, e.g. teller mines, or to damage
people, e.g. S-mines, and Schumines
small
arms fire, from machine-gun, machine-pistol, rifle (especially snipers') and
pistol
The systems for dealing with wounded people were in a
sense similar to those for repairing tanks; the worse it was, the further back
you went. There were a number of things that the wounded person or those round
him could do as immediate first aid. Everybody carried a first aid dressing,
and there was a first aid box in the tanks and many of the other vehicles. Most
people also carried injectible ampoules of morphine, which could be used as
some antidote to pain. Cyril Rees escaped with burns from his tank in the
battle of the Broedersbosch in February 1945: "Someone nearby produced a
tube of morphine and jabbed it into my lower arm, I think it was Frank
Risbridger. It wasn't long before I began to feel drowsy".
Many people helped their comrades to escape from
damaged or burning vehicles, which at least gave them a chance to get back to
more experienced medical aid. Most vehicles, certainly tanks, are not designed
for quick escape. There are many projections and obstacles, and tank crews get
somewhat festooned with lanyards, microphones and headsets, binoculars,
map-cases, and the loops, belts and pockets of their own clothes. Ray Gordon
told in the overture to this history of the tragic consequences of not being
able to free some of the obstacles to exit in his tank Iceni on 10 July 1944.
Once people were free of their vehicle they were
exposed to shelling, mortaring, and machine-gun and rifle fire. A quick dive
into a ditch was a natural and often life-saving reaction, and from that point
the casualty could be moved back to the medical professionals. The general
procedure for dealing with casualties is shown in Figure 4.1, although of
course there were many variations on what could happen to a person. The RAP
could be that belonging to any unit, and in many cases the medical staff
(doctors, padres and medical orderlies) went out to collect the wounded rather
than wait for them to arrive at the RAP. One of the padres in 34 Armoured
Brigade was Rev. Capt. Geoffrey Lampe, who won the MC for rescuing wounded
under fire. Geoffrey had been a classics master at King's Canterbury before he
joined the army. On one occasion in Normandy he suddenly found himself in a
ditch with a one-time pupil. Mallorie, said Geoffrey, I think we last met in
the Peloponnesian War.
Figure
4.1: Dealing with Casualties
RTU: Return to Unit
However it was afforded, the medical backup was
generally voted anywhere from very good to superb. Les Arnold was wounded near
Colleville on 28 June when he was helping to re-fuel his tank.
"I got hit down the right side and my right elbow
was shattered. I managed to get over the side of the tank and someone put a
tourniquet on my arm. I was collected by stretcher bearers who protected me by
stopping and lying alongside me whenever mortars fell on the field we were
crossing. They put me in an ambulance which took me to a Field Dressing
Station, where Major Conway RAMC operated on me. I was shipped out of Normandy
by a DUKW which ferried a group of wounded from the shore to the "Duke of
Rotherham". I ended up at Southampton General Hospital, and after eleven
months of hospital treatment was finally discharged from the army".
John Powell was wounded by shelling after he and his
crew bailed out of their tank near Chateau de Fontaine on 10 July 1944.
"Like I said, we were unused to being on a
battlefield without inches of armour plate around us. Some mortar rounds or
shells started whistling around and we dropped. Too late. When I returned to
consciousness the others were getting up but I couldn't move. I tried to shout
but only a whisper came out. The others noticed my plight and our sergeant
examined me, turned me over and put a field dressing on my back. I couldn't
feel my legs but was assured that they were still there. Someone went to get
help while I was given a cigarette to keep me occupied. My very brief war was
certainly over.
The medical back-up was superb. Within 30 minutes a
RAMC bren carrier picked me up and took me to a nearby field hospital. I was
placed on the operating table and dealt with immediately. The subsequent few
days of nursing and medical care offered in field conditions was a revelation.
I even got a visit from a representative or two from 'B' Squadron, although how
they found the time I cannot imagine. As soon as I had recovered sufficiently
to be repatriated I was flown back to Oxford in a very bumpy Dakota for further
attention to my spinal injuries. I spent months and months in hospital
recovering some use of my legs. The remnants of my kit miraculously caught up
with me later, but, alas, without my Qui s'y frotte badge".
As both Les and John have related, it could take a
long time to recover from a wound, and even then the full function of the
disabled part might never completely return. Burns presented a different sort
of disablement. Many of the tank crew casualties were burned, and many of those
had to spend months or even years attending hospitals for treatment. Ray Gordon
was burned on the approaches to Maltot on 10 July 1944. Part of his story was
told in the overture to this history. What follows overlaps the last few
minutes of the brewing of Iceni, and continues with the next four years of
Ray's life; his tank had caught on fire, and he had just managed to pull
himself out of the turret and fall on the ground beside the tracks.
"My face became swollen and very tight making it
difficult to see and the skin of my left hand hung down in black strips from an
arm which was bloodless and white. Lieutenant Shep Douglas, my troop leader,
crawled along the field. "Who are you" he said, not recognising one
of his own troop to whom he had given orders earlier that morning. I followed
him across the field of rape crouched low because we could hear gunfire to a
gap in the hedgerow where infantry were in position. The look of horror on
their faces which changed to looks of pity when they saw me will remain forever
in my mind. It is a look which I would never want to inflict on another human
being. I was helped to a medical truck, given an injection and that was the end
of the 10th July for me.
Memories after that are mixed – 'You are being flown
home' someone said. The sound of the aircraft taking off but no memory of
landing. A sudden shout by me 'I can see' (I had been blind for over a week due
to my swollen face) then a transfer to the Burns and Plastic Surgery Hospital
in Basingstoke which, little did I realise at the time, was to become my second
home, on and off, for the next four years.
This situation for the injured soldier is the other
side of the penny from the successes of winning a war. Months for recovery,
many operations – some of which result in further painful periods of recovery
and for some unfortunate men it means a broken body for the rest of life and
that life itself severely limiting what that person can finally achieve. For
myself I was indeed fortunate that whilst my injuries were visible they were
literally only skin deep – no amputation, no limping, no internal injuries or
other restricting disability. In a sense the cross that a burns victim has to
bear is the reaction of the public to the vivid scarring on the face and a
disfigured and unsightly hand (once described by one of my doctors as a claw to
the fury of my wife). In the early days of venturing out into the world and
going along a public road one is so conscious of one's disfigurement and the
protective shell that you gradually build around you has not yet materialised.
You feel that everyone is staring at you – some sympathetically, others with
distaste and even when in a shop you hear that penetrating whisper "Why do
they let people out looking like that". Even having plucked up courage to
go into a restaurant for a meal to find that the three people sitting at the
table you are directed to get up and walk away leaving their food. You want to
hide. It is as if you had inflicted the injury on yourself and were to blame
for looking like that.
Gradually common sense takes over and one becomes
fully aware that for the rest of your life you will always look different from
a 'normal' person. Once this fact is accepted life becomes a never ending
challenge. What you achieved before your injury, be it in sport, work or hobby,
you try, try, and try again to accomplish – you adjust your method of approach
to the problem and you solve it. You ensure that despite your physical
appearance you are able to achieve in nearly every case the same result as a
'normal' person – and how satisfying that feeling is.
Looking back on my life I can now appreciate that my
time in the 9th RTR made me grow up into a man. My disablement has given me a
greater understanding of those less fortunate than myself and ironically being
burnt (on reflection) was the best thing that happened to me in that I married
Joan, the Hospital Physiotherapist and, as the fairy story says – lived happily
ever after".
7.3 Rest and
Travel: The War Diary
Following the Battle of Le
Havre, the Battalion was informed that a fortnight's rest was anticipated and
that billets could be found in the area south of Dieppe.
On Sept 17th, the Battalion
was disposed as follows:- HQ, A1 and A2 Echelons - Biville La Baignard. A Sqn
in Bronnetuit. B Sqn Gonneville; C Sqn in St. Genevieve.
Billets were found for all
personnel, and certain comfort and rest was enhanced by the attitude of the
villagers, who were kind enough to entertain by providing meals and wine - this
was greatly appreciated for with petrol "frozen" it was not possible
to send "passion" trucks to the larger towns.
Being the first time that the
Battalion had been given a definite rest period since landing, maintenance was
carried out on an extensive scale; each vehicle was given a thorough inspection
and a number of engine changes were made.
It was not, however, possible
to ignore the hospitality of the villagers, and at the request of various
"Maires" certain ceremonies were gladly endured.
Major Michael Reynell, OC B
Sqn, was presented with a bouquet of flowers by his admiring villagers and in a
gesture of respect and also to avoid his own embarrassment, laid this quickly
at the foot of the local cenotaph.
On Sunday 24 Sept 1944, HQ
and C Sqns held similar but more elaborate functions to further the cause of
Allied unity.
At Biville, HQ Sqn scrubbed
their belts, cleaned their brasses and paraded with a guard of honour that
appeared to have little acquaintance with rifles, while the Colonel and
"Le Maire" laid wreaths on the cenotaph and exchanged speeches. The
Colonel, speaking in French, expressed his admiration for the Free French and
thanked the villagers for their kind welcome, while the "Maire", with
appropriate gesture, reaffirmed the bond that existed between French and
British in their love of freedom. No ceremony, however, is complete without
flags and music, and the local band was there to express its personality – it
struggled valiantly through the Marseillaise and God Save the King, but
produced such confusion during the March Past that it was only possible to
maintain a marching step away from its influence. The "Maire" of St.
Genevieve was less ambitious in his arrangements, but C Sqn's parade was no
less impressive and the speeches no less suitable.
The football match between
the Battalion and a team from the local villagers was played in the afternoon
and, despite heavy showers of rain, attracted a reasonable audience. The
standard of football was not high, but the French side was not outclassed as a
victory of 6-0 might suggest. The most entertaining part of the afternoon was
provided by the ceremonial prelude to the game, with which the Battalion side
had not been acquainted.
They strolled out
nonchalantly onto the field, while the French side trotted out one behind the
other and lined up in the middle of the field. One by one the Battalion side
realised that perhaps they too should follow this example and began to sort
themselves out but were not quick enough. An almost unrecognisable God Save the
King was being played. The band was here again. During the Marseillaise, the
French turned about but this time the Battalion made no response and were
finally embarrassed by the presentation of another large bouquet of flowers.
As the days passed further
amusements were found. A dinner party was given for Lt. Col. A. R. Leakey, 7
RTR, where he was presented with the model of a Churchill derelict upon a
minefield in recognition of his leadership in discovering more minefields in
France than any other unit. The present was accepted with grave and dubious
laughter, but as the table was supplied with certain luxuries including
Champagne, Vin Blanc, and Benedictine, nothing rude was said at the time.
C Sqn indulged in the
traditional taste for dramatics and produced a noisy but amusing variety. B Sqn
followed suit and no critic would hazard an opinion on the higher state of
excellence. A Sqn organised a dance and were kindly supplied with a bar by a
local Aubergiste. It was rather obvious to state that everyone thoroughly
enjoyed themselves and sobriety was hardly the order of the day.
The Battalion moved again on
29 September. The first complete rest had been thoroughly enjoyed – many had
made pleasant friendships, among these were such notable personalities as the
2IC who bade a tender farewell to a group of fair young ladies at five o'clock
in the morning, and Major Bert Mockford, who it was rumoured, had acquired an
affection for a certain doctor's wife.
By the first of October the
Battalion had reached Henneveux – a distance of 123 miles. During a short rest
here, an impressive Service was held in memory of those who had been killed
fighting with the Battalion. As the sun set behind a curtain of trees, the
Battalion formed up on a sloping field facing two Churchills, in front of which
stood the Padre. He conducted a simple service, the message of which was that,
however difficult it was to understand, no death was in vain.
The following day the
Battalion moved to Renescures and there awaited transporters in the final stage
to join 1st Corps, who were now protecting the S.W. flank of the Arnhem
salient. Whilst loading on 5 Oct. Lt. Les Wintle of A Sqn fell as he attempted
to climb on a moving transporter and was crushed to death. An unfortunate end
to an excellent troop leader who had fought so well from the very start.
By Oct 8th HQ, A and C Sqns
had crossed into Holland and came under command 51(H) Div. B Sqn and the Recce
Tp remained at Renescures awaiting further transporters. A further 100 miles
had been covered on tracks, and the welcome by the Dutch was the most effusive
that the Battalion had encountered, even surpassing that of the Belgians, who
had done everything to satisfy the general wish for comfort and wartime luxury.
Maj. Peter Massy, who had
done excellent work in securing billets, was awarded a special medal of
recognition by the Regt – the recommendation coming via the Adjutant, who
generally had a doubtful residence.
The first 9 RTR Newsletter gives the views of the
squadrons on this interlude of rest and travel. A Squadron: "Sept 17 found
us sitting in Brennetuit near Auffay, and for the next ten days all the tanks were
in different stages of stripping, including a couple of engine changes. Quite a
bit of sport was indulged in, and the squadron kept up its reputation. The rest
period culminated in a squadron dance on the evening of Sept 28th, and we are
pleased to relate that in essentials this differed in no-wise from any other A
Squadron dance. Except that at 3a.m. in the morning some petrol arrived,
which a semi-capable squadron proceeded to pour into our chariots in
preparation for a very early move.
In the following three days we clocked a further 123
on our track mileage, eventually boarding transporters for the final run up to
Eindhoven on October 6th. It was whilst loading these transporters that Les
Wintle met his death falling under the wheels of a moving transporter and being
killed instantly. This was a very sad end to a grand troop leader, when one
considers that he had been in the thick of everything from the beginning".
B Squadron's principal recollection was a squadron
concert produced by L/Cpl George Horsfield: "One of the highlights was a
'Squadron Office' scene in which Tpr Jack Shepherd as SSM and George Horsfield
as the squadron clerk gave unmistakable impersonations. Other turns included an
Egyptian scene with L/Cpl Johnnie Trotter, Cpl Bill Holyoake and Trooper Norman
Hughes accompanied by drums and dancing snakes. The star of the officers'
sketch was Lieut. John Stone as a French sanitary man, while in the sergeants
sketch the star was SQMS Jim Lewis as himself. Ernie Nightingale built a first
rate stage and the show was greatly helped by the squadron band".
C Squadron start after the capture of Le Havre:
"Followed a few days which were well spent in trying out the new weapons
and drinks we had acquired, and in making return visits to replenish stocks –
until the whole town was put out of bounds. After a smart rattle along the
roads eastward we arrived at the delightful village of Beaunay where we made
our home for the next ten days. On Sunday 25 Sept we had a ceremonial parade,
during which the Squadron Leader placed a wreath on the village War Memorial
for WWI, and we performed a March Past. The salute was taken by the Mayor,
Raymond Wemaere".
Mayor Wemaere made a speech after taking the salute:
"It has been a great joy and a happy privilege to
the people of our Village to receive and welcome the gallant Battalion of the
9th Regiment of the Royal Tanks, who came to Beaunay and Seine Inferieure for
our liberation.
I am the interpreter of the Village Council and of the
whole population in respectfully addressing our salutations to the Colonel,
Officers, non commissioned Officers and ranks of the 9th Regiment of the Royal
Tanks, wishing them a kindly welcome, and hoping that they should keep a happy remembrance
of their reception, as our liberators.
Every one here, has been deeply moved by your delicate
intention and your souvenir, for our glorious soldiers of the war 1914-1918 who
fell fighting together with you for their country and our liberty.
The 9th Regiment of the Royal Tanks co-operating with
the French 3rd Grenadier Division, in July 1917, was then given the high
distinction of the French Croix de Guerre (Military Cross) and la Tourregen of
which you have been wearing the crest and the formal devise "Qui s'y
frotte s'y Brule".
Hard fighting will still have to take place before the
final victory but we do feel confident that 1944 shall see the collapse of our
mutual enemy; the Hitlerisme.
Let us have a pious remembrance and allow us to pray
together for the gallant soldiers of the 9th Regiment who have given their
lives at Caen, Falaise, and Le Havre for our liberty.
Allow me to salute respectfully your gracious
Majesties King George and Queen Elizabeth giving them the assurance of the
feeling of gratitude of the French populations, toward the British Army."
Individuals had varied memories of this period. Jack
Woods was, at least temporarily, extremely hopeful.
"After Le Havre the Battalion settled down
outside Dieppe where we heard of the liberation of Paris on the radio and lost
our soft transport to support the pursuit of the beaten enemy from Normandy by
the Armoured Divisions. We also heard rumours of a return to the U.K., but got
on with maintenance and changed our tracks. The tracks had been broken and the
new ones nicely laid out waiting for the A.R.V. to tow us on when we had a flap
one hour's move, panic stations for a while and away we went on our own tracks
both drivers spelling each other, finally loading on to transporters at
Rennescure and travelling through the night (the one and only time I saw
Brussels) finally arriving in Eindhoven".
Jock Cordiner remembers the town of Bolbec and some
rather summary justice:
"Stopping briefly in Bolbec later there were
other memorable events. First, while sunning ourselves in the square there was
without warning a massive explosion nearby. The square emptied faster than
Aberdeen on a Flag Day. It was reported that a huge naval gun sited on the
coast had been turned round on us.
Also at Bolbec a few of us gate-crashed an F.F.I.
trial of collaborators. We were besieged by men and women begging us to save
their lives. We tried but the shooting went on in the back yard. It was a
painful experience as we were convinced that not all the victims could have
been guilty. No evidence or witnesses were produced. It seemed a good time for
those who held power to be rid of people they disliked".
John Hodges' diary picks up a few days after Le Havre
and on 26 Sept records the commencement of his diary.
"18 September
Moved another 48 miles by road to Biville la Baignarde
– about 22 miles from Rouen. Here we were grounded owing to lack of petrol and
look like being so for some time. Our first real rest in billets.
24 September
Parade and ceremony at the village war memorial. Band
was the high spot of the party – lots of speeches on both sides with vive les
allies, vive La France – vive La Sport!
26 September
Still sitting in Biville and having nothing better to
do so decided to write this diary out in full. Wish I had started it right from
the day of our landing in Normandy on 21st June.
29th September
Started on journey north. Reached Transey (43 miles).
Night in rather dirty chateau but comfortable bed. Quite an uneventful journey.
Tomorrow we shall cross the Somme at St. Valerie.
30th September
Crossed the Somme and harboured at Vron. Distance
covered 34 miles. Quite uneventful. House with lavatory and bathroom, the first
I've met in all France. Tomorrow the circus travels again to a point about 7
miles due east of Boulogne.
1st October
The circus moves on another 36 miles. Harboured at
Benneveux, 8 miles east of Boulogne. Passed through Montreuil, where the
Battalion won the 'Qui s'y frotte' in 1918. We had a short halt there while the
CO took a photograph of the Battalion. This place is dirty and we are very
spread out. We all hope we shall move again tomorrow. Heard yesterday the story
of why the 1st Airborne Division had to be withdrawn from Arnhem. A hitherto
unreported Panzer SS Division suddenly appeared and started to play ducks and
drakes with the corridor. The Guards Armoured Division had to be withdrawn to
deal with it, and so could not get on to join up with the 1st Airborne as
originally planned.
Note: As related in the
beginning of this history, it was in fact at Moreuil near Amiens that
the 9th won the Qui s'y frotte.
3rd October
Very wet and on the move again. Now harboured in a
very dilapidated and bombed chateau east of St. Omer. Distance today 34 miles.
Started a very heavy cold yesterday, but liberal doses of pills and whiskey
have stopped the aches. Handkerchief problem will soon be acute. Not feeling
too good. Here we wait for transporters to take us to Holland. Have now done
700 miles in my tank since we landed – same engine and no real trouble. I wish
I could write to Mr. Stokes at Ipswich! (Mr. Stokes helped to design the
Bedford engine. Ed.)
5th October
Left St. Omer for Eindhoven. Reached Brussels, 106
miles, the same evening. The tanks are being lifted on transporters.
Interesting drive via Ypres and Menin. Belgian people very enthusiastic. Brussels
amazingly full of life and plenty in the shops. Cold very bad and altogether
felt pretty lousy. Lost my way back to the hotel and wandered about for
three-quarters of an hour looking for it.
6th October
Left Brussels at 10.30a.m. and eventually arrived at
Mol about 5 miles from Dutch border. Covered 80 miles. Very interesting ride
but the roads of cobblestones are frightful – especially in a half track! Every
bone shakes. Cold very thick still, but feel better. Les Wintle was run over by
his tank which was on a transporter while climbing on yesterday near St.
Omer".
Les Wintle's death was indeed a tragedy. As a troop
leader in A Squadron he had survived the dreadful day of 10th July, as well as
all the battles before and after. His death is vividly described by Trevor
Greenwood:
D + 121 Thursday 5.10.44
"Start delayed this morning about 2 hours, but we
eventually left harbour about 11.00a.m. Short drive to concrete runways on
local aerodrome where transporters were parked: loaded and shackled vehicles soon
after. And then followed a long wait – until 3.0p.m. when we ultimately started
– crew on tank, self in transporter driving cab.
Just as we were moving off, I noticed Mr. Wintle
running towards his vehicle which was moving slowly into position: A few seconds
later there was a commotion round about, and we pulled up. A few yards to our
rear I saw a mass of torn rags dark red in colour and some pieces of a body –
two feet in particular. This unrecognisable mass laying on the concrete was the
remains of Mr. Wintle. He had attempted to board his vehicle via the towing bar
and slipped – the trailer, carrying the tank, passed over his body. The three
axles, each carrying 8 wheels, had completely mutilated him. A sad business
this. He was very young – and had been through most of our actions without
harm. How very fragile is this nebulous thread we call life!"