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This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Claire White of 麻豆官网首页入口 Scotland on behalf of William Ward and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

My most vivid memories of WWII date from the Normandy landings of 6 June 1944. I was 19 years old at the time and was serving as inventory.

We landed with folding up bikes for a quick advance off the Normandy beaches. The Germans were mortaring and machine-gunning the roads so we got rid of the bikes after 50 yards. I was a Ben Gunner meaning I fired a machine gun during the landings.

Our objective on D-Day was taking Caen but it didn't fall until 9th July, almost a month later. German resistance from the 21st Panzer Division and 12 SS Hitler Youth was just too strong. But we got there eventually and my regiment was the first to take Caen. We bombed the place to bits with our aircraft and the rubble prevented us getting through quickly.

As I was going into Caen one of the French resistance pulled me aside. He took me to a massive air raid shelter in the centre of the town. The day before two of our bombs had slid down the stairway of the shelter when it was full of French people. It was an awful sight; there were bits of people, bones and heads everywhere.

From Caen we moved on to Troarn. As we moved into the town there was an almighty battle. The German resistance battered us and we battered them. But hostilities paused for a short time in a manner similar to the WWI Christmas Day incident. The Commanding Officers allowed each side to pick up their wounded and dead over a period of 4 hours. This job was shocking to begin with but you became accustomed to it after so many months of fighting. I was given the job of burying my Sergeant. I left him in a shallow hole and the Red Cross took over from there.

Our next battle took place 2-3 days later at Thurry Haricourt. The Germans had burst dams and flooded the area to slow our progress. We were up to our knees in mud and struggled to walk at all. As we moved forward we ran into a German patrol. I ducked into a ditch and assessed where the Germans were. I fired 5 magazines in their direction before placing my gun on top of the ditch. I was hit by a shell and shrapnel passed through my steel helmet before embedding itself in my head. The blast damaged my hearing so I was sent to military hospital and shipped back to England. I was a nervous wreck for a couple of months and couldn't even hold a cup and saucer. Things improved when I was sent to an English hospital to recuperate. It was a relief to return to Glasgow on leave.

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