Invasion By Bob Spence

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Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar and the coarse material was driving him to distraction. You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancée and there was none. A coffin-faced parson was standing on a box delivering a sermon that was a bore. Yes a bore. When would it end? Sergeant Morris was talking to the men now. Morris was a medal winner for bravery at Dunkirk. You always listened to Morris. The straight talking Geordie commanded respect. He was a man who carried the mantle of leadership shoulder high. He spoke. They listened.

'The key is to be a team. The enemy are as scared as you are. They are not supermen but ordinary people. Keep it simple, no heroics just the basics'. Simply said and for all of that it was just the right thing. They would be just as scared.

Tucker had said Morris carried a man off the beach with a leg blown off at the knee but he bled to death during the crossing. Morris held his hand all the way across talking to him and helped him smoke a cigarette whilst he bled to death, bled to death. You could imagine him standing up to the grim reaper. "C'mon son, not long now until we get you back home. Not long".

Another story was that Captain Deeves had panicked at the canal and would have left the men without an officer but Morris had stopped him with revolver drawn. What the story could not carry was the conversation, 'Act like a man or I will blow your bleeding head off! Sir'! The cleric had been talking to the men of the 4th Battalion for nearly an hour but it somehow didn't help. Moody had only been to church twice and couldn't help but think if there really were a god surely he wouldn't let this happen.

Major Lano-Moore had spoken to the men earlier. 'Men, all I can say is that we all know the big show is brewing but I can't say when it is going to happen'. No one knew. The concentration of men was considerable.

Including the Polish Regiment that had been moved down from Sheffield they reckoned over 30,000 troops in the Bournemouth area alone. It was going to be a big show that much was clear. A really big show.

Kreik was a worrier. He was worried he would die. He didn't want to. He was worried that he would let down the platoon. He didn't want to. He was worried about his girlfriend. He definitely didn't want to.

The unit was aware that something was brewing. The Calais area had been sealed off and no one, but no one was allowed to leave the area. Most of the men were from the Bremen area and were a tough breed. The week previously their commanding Officer Rommel had stood in front of the best part of 500 men. 'I can't tell you when it will happen and I can't tell you where it will happen but I can tell you that it will happen'! Well that's all right then. The morale was low. Very low.

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