Inherited Craziness
A place to share all the nuts found on my family tree

Saturday 16 September 2023

RAF 5 - Seclin 2

Former Psychiatric Hôpital Marguerite de Flandre, Seclin

Our next football match was a couple of weeks later when we played Seclin, a town about the same distance from us as Carvin but in the opposite direction. I was picked this time to play in goal. We started off in good style and this time the game wasn't quite so one-sided. I had to play this time with a cotton-wool and sticking plaster pad on my thigh about an inch and a half thick. Seclin took the lead about half way through the first half when their inside right put in a shot that I had to jump sideways for. I stopped the ball but couldn't control it and their centre forward was able to put it in the net before I could get to it again. Five minutes later we equalised and just before half-time Seclin made the score 2-1. They took a corner kick and one of the forwards headed it in, just inside the post. I was just a fraction of a second too late in getting to it. After the change over our boys seemed to have new life in them. Although French teams have the reputation of being tricky and fast players our long passes and open play beat them. The game ended with a 5-2 win for us. I had to save a couple of shots and intercept a couple of centres but apart from that I had little to do.

There was one night while we were in Camphin that I shan't forget in a hurry. I was on the evening watch and having done my share of the duties, I was back in my tent. About nine-o'clock one of the chaps poked his head in the tent and asked if I would help him get a couple of Bren guns from one of the trucks. I went out and he explained to me that it had been reported that fifty Germans were supposed to have damaged some sort of works near Lens and were coming our way in three lorries. Where the Germans were supposed to have come from I don't know. Everybody on the camp was called out and a patrolling guard put all around the field and up and down between the tents. I took my Bren gun and lay in a ditch at the side of the road facing the main road which was about a hundred yards away. 

An hour later all the chaps who had been been out for the evening began to roll in and they were very surprised when halted by the guard. Everybody coming in was told to get his Sten or rifle and report back to the gate. About eleven o'clock we heard two shots from the other end of the field and some of the lads went up to investigate. I heard all about it before long. Two of our chaps had been coming in the back way by cutting across a couple of fields and didn't halt when the guard shouted. As they were not recognised the guard fired his revolver twice, hitting one man along the side of his head near his eye and the other through his right hand. The ambulance came before long and they were taken to hospital. 

It began to get a bit cold and biscuits and tea were brought round. At four o'clock in the morning I was relieved. I could go to bed but keep my clothes on. The C.O. came round the tents with a flask of tea for us before I was asleep. I wrote a letter before getting into bed. Next morning after breakfast I got into bed again and slept until dinner time when I was on watch again. The panic was over then and I never found out what happened to the 'enemy'.

Leading aircraftman (LAC) Charles Francis (Frank) Stone (1923-2001), my father, wrote this Forbidden Diary (i.e. they'd been told NOT to keep diaries and the fact that it exists tells you all you need to know), as a 21 year old in 1944. (Entries are transcribed exactly as written, mistakes included. Attitudes are very much 'of their time'.)