| Rank | Signalman |
| Service # | A2328848 |
| Unit # | 1st Air Landing Brigade/Para., Royal Signals, Imperial Army |
Son of Dr. Clarence E. Higley of Queen Street, Chatham.
Dan enlisted in the British army in April of 1939 prior to the outbreak of war. He attended the Royal Signals School at Cotterick, Yorkshire where he graduated at the age of 19. When the war broke out Dan decided to join the Commandos and later transferred to the Paratroops.
1st Air Landing Brigade/Para., Royal Signals, Imperial Army.
He saw service in Africa and was in the invasion of Sicily. During that invasion, he dropped in the Mediterranean when the glider in which he was being transported crashed before reaching the battlefield.
Dan was reported WIA while serving with the 8th Imperial Army and had been evacuated to England for treatment accoding to a letter received by his father. CDN 8/01/44 (P) He also took part in the invasion of Italy and was wounded near Naples in November 1944.
In March of 1942 Dan wrote an interesting letter to his father, though some parts were censored the letter as published in the CDN 23/03/42 is as follows:
Dear Dad,
Well here I am again on leave in Sunderlandand really taking it easy.It is sure good to havea week’s rest after the training we get in the Brigade. Besides other things we go for two runs a week: by runs I mean – we run 4,000 yards – walk 2,000 yards for six miles with full equipment. Every Sunday, with few exceptions we go swimming in rivers in battle dress and equipment and it’s plenty cold! Its supposed to make us tough, any way I feel better than I ever did, healthy and full of pep.
Letters don’t seem to be travelling so well these days as I haven’t had one for ages. But I guess that it’s the same going both ways isn’t it? Nothing to worry about. I know but I wish Jerry would leave the mail boats alone at least. I sure like letters, as you know and I know you do too, don’t you?
I was Divisional Headquarters for two weeks before I came on Leave – right down on Salisbury Plain. I had to walk two miles for breakfast at the aerodrome every morning. Some fun eh! Good exercise anyway.
This is sure a grand outfit I am with Dad, with plenty of excitement. I often wondered, when I was small, what it would be like jumping by parachute. Remember when we used to watch that jumper out at the airport on Sunday afternoons? Well Dad, I’ve had several jumps up to now, and I know just what it feels like. We all stand in line in the plane and an officer calling out the time – when the time comes you just take a smart soldierly pace forward and away you go. Then you can’t breathe for what seems about five minutes (10 – 15 seconds actually) and then you feel the tugging on your legs and shoulders, and whenyou open your eyes it’s really heaven. The worst part of it is the waiting of your turn while in the plane.
Coming down in a glider is even more exciting than a parachute. We go up to a height of “(several lines censored) before the wings of the glider take the air, and that’s the most thrilling part. Your stomach jumps up a couple of feet – then the rest of it is just glidingdown for about 20 minutes to half an hour, then a bumpy landing, snd you’re all ready to go up and do it again. Sure is fun Pop!
He saw service in Africa and was in the invasion of Sicily. During that invasion, he dropped in the Mediterranean when the glider in which he was being transported crashed before reaching the battlefield. He also took part in the invasion of Italy and was wounded near Naples in November 1944.
The whole airborne division was sent back to England for further training predatory for D-Day. Dan’s division did not take part in the D-Day operations but kept in reserve for later actions which turned out to be operation ‘Market Garden’ in particular taking the last bridge at Arnhem, ‘the bridge too far’ as it turned out. What follows is Signalman Dan Higley’s account of that action from his eye.
“Red Devils at ARNHEN”
17 – 25 September, 1944
by
Signalman, Dan Higley, A2328848.
1st Air Landing Brigade – Para Division, Imperial Army.
From:
Chatham Daily News 3 January, 1945.
Transcribed by J. R. Hind.
“We’d been standing by for some weeks for the operation and finally one day we were paraded and briefed for the job – the taking and holding of the Rhine bridge at Arnhem in Holland and we were to go the following morning, Sunday, Sept. 17 [1944]. Of course we were confined to camp for security reasons, so we spent the evening getting ready, cleaning guns, checking ammunition, priming grenades etc.”
SUNDAY – Sept. 17.
“We were paraded all ready in fighting order, and taken in trucks to our airfield. At about 10 a.m. our glider troops took off and all along the runway you could see the personnel of the aerodrome waving to us. We, we were off on another big show.”
“The flight was to pretty long so I had taken a book with me, and read most of the way, and smoked pretty heavy too. About one o’clock we sighted the Dutch coast from about 3,000 feet. Sure was quite a thrill. All around us as far as we could see were gliders and planes and I was thinking ‘Boy, I’ll bet Jerry down there is doing some pretty heavy thinking’.
“We were following our course with a map, over all the flooded country, so we knew pretty well when we were going in. When the pilot finally cast off, we went into a dive and you could see the gliders on the ground already. As soon as we touched down, the pilot put all brakes hard on, and we stopped before we had gone yards. Having the doors already open, we were piling out and taking position around the glider, while some of the fellows got busy unloading our equipment. However there was no opposition to speak of, although Jerry was sending up some flak.”
“As soon as we were unloaded, we started making our way to the rendezvous. On our way we saw some of the Parachute Brigades bailing out, and boy what a sight. There must have been a thousand chutes in the sky at once. There was everything imaginable coming down, from mortars and wireless sets to bicycles.”
“When we reached the rendezvous we had a look around and found that most of our fellows had got down alright. And I can tell you I was plenty relieved to be down too. I thought then that the worst was over. Boy, did I have a shock coming.”
“After an hour or two, we left our rendezvous and moved down the road about ¾ of a mile. We should have gone further, but we ran into trouble there and decided to set up H.Q. on the spot. We dug in and put the wireless set in the slit trench. It was time to brew some tea, so we did. We had a peaceful night there.
MONDAY – Sept. 18.
“The morning was pretty quit too, but the wounded were beginning to come into the dressing station across the road. We also buried our first dead that morning. The Dutch people, had so far been very friendly and helpful.”
“This afternoon there was a gang of aircraft flying about and that was OK with us until we saw the black crosses – Ask Cam Burrows, he knows. However, there were no casualties in our H.Q. and we passed another fairly peaceful afternoon.
“Just at dusk we formed up to move, and moved about three miles toward Arnhem – and some move it was too. No opposition to speak of, but boy what a mess the village Wolfheze was in. I don’t think there was a building untouched. We can thank the R.A.F. fr a good part of that – they’d giving the place a hammering before we landed. The roads we moved up were pretty good, and the odd knocked out German midget tank lay at the roadside. And so did the odd German for that matter.”
“We arrived in our new location just about nightfall. It was in a pine woods on the side of a hill, behind a big white hotel. (This was in the country of course). We didn’t like the place so well as things were getting a bit noisy and the side of the hill isn’t the best place to be if Jerry starts mortaring. However, we dug in and those civilians who were left in the hotel (caretakers) gave us black coffee – no sugar but very much appreciated. We had another fairly quiet night.”
TUESDAY – Sept. 19.
“Had a good wash and some grub this morning. Grub is getting a bit short. Advance H.Q. left for a new location, and there are only about 15 of us here. Jerry planes have been strafing a bit this morning but no casualties. We had a report that about 200 German S.S. troops are coming towards our position and we didn’t like the idea much of taking them on with only 15 men and three machine guns.”
However, we took up our positions, but much to our relief, the order came through to move to join up with our advance H.Q. again.”
“it was a really beautiful morning as we moved up the road towards Arnhem, and we quite enjoyed the march. There was quite a bit of or own equipment laying on the roadside this morning. The infantry had been running into some pretty stiff opposition during the night.”
“We arrived at our new location, a small farm, and my crew dug in, in the garden at the back of the little cream colored farm house. Nice and peaceful here, and apples and pears. We got some potatoes and tomatoes and onions out of the garden and with what was left of our rations had a grand stew, which the Dutch woman in the house made for us.”
“There’s one thing though, we took plenty of tea, sugar and milk powder with us, so we should never go without tea.
“ We had a bit of bother with a sniper this afternoon, but some of the defence platoon finally dealt with him. Things began to get a bit hot for us that evening when Jerry opened up on us with ‘moaning minnie’, a six barreled mortar. Terrible things. Really demoralizing. Had a fairly good night.”
WEDNESDAY Sept 20.
“Breakfast on tea and pears this morning. ‘Moaning minnie’ started again and one hit the farm house, killing four of our officers and wounding one of my pals. We were ordered to move to the other side of the farm as Jerry was expected to put in and attack along the road. Anyway we had to shift under mortar fire and it was a bit uncomfortable I can tell you. And we didn’t waste any time digging in again either. We had a pretty hectic day all round with shelling and mortaring.
“R.A.F. bombers came over again today about 5 p.m. dropping supplies. The Germans put up plenty of flak, but as usual, the R.A.F. did the job well – although the enemy got most of the supplies. You’ve got to take your hats off to the R.A.F. boys though. There job wasn’t easy.
THURSDAY Sept 21.
“There is not much to tell for this day. The usual incessant shelling and mortaring and quite a few casualties. No moves or anything like that. Just sitting in our fox-holes.
FRIDAY Sept. 22.
“The enemy started early this morning and we were under very heavy shell and mortar fire before the sun was up. Sustained heavy casualties this morning. Jerry put in another infantry attack but we liked him again. He was getting noticeably stronger, though, or we are getting weaker. Beginning to feel pretty tired as I’d been on the wireless set each night and couldn’t sleep between shifts anyhow. However, we managed to get a can of Irish stew between three of us. The cigarette supply is still pretty good. I’m glad I brought plenty with me, including 300 I received from the Chatham Fire Department before I left England.
“At about 6 p.m. after the R.A.F. had been over again, we formed up to move our H.Q. we had to as our present location was becoming quickly uninhabitable because of shelling and mortaring. We moved only about ¾ of a mile to a wood and dug in there. We got a very bad hammering that evening about an hour later, and had fairly heavy casualties. It was na adventure to walk 25 yards from one’s slit trench.
SATURDAY Sept 23.
“This place is getting terrible with incessant mortar and shell fire. Where is the 2nd army is the question on everyone’s lips. The time seems to drag so. We are beginning to wonder what is to become of us. I must say my nerves are beginning to get a bit jumpy.
“Have ceased almost to be hungry. Still have some cigarettes and tea although we don’t have much chance to make tea, and when we do it is filed with dirt before we can drink it. We drink it anyway. I think I’ll go nuts if the noise doesn’t let up.
“The only time we can hope for a rest was for about 20 minutes at midday when Jerry gunners are presumably having their dinners. I can’t describe the day in detail as I have forgot most of it now, and I’ve tried to since, but it was pretty terrible.
SUNDAY Sept. 24.
“Same old guns and mortars all day long. Some Polish paratroopers managed to get across the river to us during the night. The 2nd Army is said to be on the other side now. That makes a guy feel a bit better. I sure could have done with a wash, shave and something to eat. We did manage to get a tin of meat between six of us at about 5 p.m. Jerry out in an infantry attack that evening, and Don, the fellow I was on the parachute course with, was wounded.
“Sunday was almost identical to Saturday, concentrated hell. Cigarettes finished Sunday.
MONDAY Sept. 25.
“Some infantry of the 2nd Army got across the river last night. That looked hopeful. Jerry kept on hammering us again all day. Not so many of the fellows left. Jerry is using flame-throwing tanks and they are really terrible.
“We were told about 4:30 p.m. that they were going to do a Dunkirk across the river that night at 11 o’clock.
“At about 6 p.m. Jerry put in and attack here and we had a big Tiger tank and about 50 German infantry right in the midst of us. The lads finally chased the infantry away and dealt nicely with the tank.
“Five of us sat in our slit trench all evening and the shell and mortar fire was steadily increasing all the time. By 11 I didn’t care much for the idea of pulling away under the barrage.
“Any way we moved off in our little party, each man holding on to the tail of the Airborne smock of the man in front of him. It was a terrible night, dark and drizzling with rain. It suited us, though, because the Germans wouldn’t be strolling about much on such a night as that.
“Progress was very slow and by midnight we’d only gone about a quarter of a mile. The sky to the north and west of us was bright with fires and every five minutes or so, the enemy would send up a starlight or Very light, and we’d have to drop flat. There was no talking either. The last half mile down the Rhine was across open country, and I had to lie flat in the mud and rain for about three hours. Boy did I shiver. I could have slept though, but didn’t dare.
“The line for crossing was about three deep and the full length of the open country. Every once in awhile some wounded would walk of crawl past us going toward the river. They had priority for crossing of course. These wounded fellows were going through a lot to get out instead of staying to be taken prisoner.
“At about 3.45 a.m. I was on the river bank to be taken across when I heard a Canadian voice saying ‘Next for the Boat Ride.’ It was the good old Royal Canadian Engineers of the 2nd Army, taking us across the fast flowing Rhine in little canvas assault boats fitted with the outboard motors. British heavy machine guns on the other side would open up every time the motors started up. In this way we hoped Jerry wouldn’t what was happening.
“When I got to the other side, I pulled up with another fellow and together we hiked about four miles back to a village in the hands of the 2nd Army. We goy some cigarettes here and a big rum ration, then made our way back another four miles to a casualty clearing station where I met a lot of the fellows. We’d all got separated on the way out.
“When I found some of my pals, I just sat down with them and smoked and talked. Everyone was hanging around in small groups and you could see fellows wandering from one group to another looking for their mates.
“The gang sure looked wrecks. Funny, I hadn’t noticed before how dirty and tired they looked. Wet, utterly exhausted, hungry, sunken eyes and checks, pale and bearded. I had quite a beard myself too.
“Pretty hard to take when you think of a fine lot of men who had taken off from Blighty only nine days before – nine long days.
“We finally climbed aboard trucks, and where taken back to Nijmegen and after a meal, wash and shave, crawled in between some blankets and got some sleep. It sure was good to have quiet, food, smokes and sleep. I think the peaceful silence was most appreciated.
“We stayed in Nijmegen for two days, then were taken by road back to Louvain in Belgium. We had another night there, then to an airfield near Brussels and were flown back to England.
“When we landed we got out of our plane, straight into a waiting truck and it took us straight to a big hanger. It was just dusk and the hanger was lit up like daylight. There were tables stretching it’s full length. We went in and dumped our kit and sat down, while soldiers of another division server us with steak dinners – all we could eat. There were cigarettes and newspapers at every place, and while we ate an R.A.F. band played for us. It sure was a grand reception and we all certainly appreciated it. After we’d eaten, we given more cigarettes and chocolate and told there was free beer to be had in the N.A.A.R.I. canteen.
“When we decided to get weaving, we climbed into a truck which took us to our camp, and here we found beds already made for us and we could send telegrams from the orderly room.
“Well, we were safely back in dear old England after only twelve days away. I could hardly believe it.
The CDN 1/10/44 reported the Dannie had cabled his father Dr. Higley of Chatham to tell him that he was safe in England. It was estimated that one out of every four in the airborne force came out of the action alive, Dannie was lucky to be one of them.
Sig. Higley was reported to be on his way to the Pacific theatre with the 5th Airborne Div. Dan had gone overseas prior to the start of war to join the Imperials, he had been serving for six years.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
| Sources | IODE, CCF-FD44, CDN (03-08-1945) |
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