Month: February 2023

In 1986, Cyril Hobbins volunteered to restore, the vandal wrecked, Tumbledown Stile (also known as a clattergate or clappergate stile), that was once in place across the narrow entrance to the Abbey Gatehouse. A larger field gate closed-off the wider cart entrance. (see photo)

Cyril remembers as wicked Kenilworth kids, he and his mates would take unsuspecting visitors to go over the stile first, it would then collapse, with a loud clatter as they tumbled to the ground, it was great fun! Cyril also said, that the heavy hammer-shaped end pieces, could be used to crack nuts.

Other Tumbledown Stile’s

Kenilworth’s stile, is one of a few that still survive, the only one locally is at Charlecote, located close to the Charlecote Garden Centre in the village. This is on the opposite side of the road to entrance of Charlecote Park. It’s looks to be a modern replacement, which doesn’t operate correctly. But at least it’s still there.

The Charlecote Stile – Both old (early 1900s) and present day (2022)

According to the Hungerford Virual Museum, there are less than 16 still remaining in the country. A photo of the Kenilworth stile (and Cyril) are recorded on their website (in the street furniture/tumble stile section), together with the other remaining stiles from around the country.

https://www.hungerfordvirtualmuseum.co.uk/#&gid=1&pid=13

This cleverly designed stile, kept farm animals from straying into St. Nicholas churchyard, which containing poisonous yews trees. The stile closed automatically, so was more efficient than a standard hinged-gate. The loud clatter could also warn off intruders, if such a stile was used in a situation close to a farmhouse or cottage.

How Old is the Stile?

The stile’s age, and condition, has been a topic of conversation for a very long time. For example, a report appeared in the Kenilworth Advertiser, on 24th August 1918, stating;

‘This valuable old relic of by-gone days, which is under the archway of the ‘Tantara’ ruins, still remains in such a condition, that it positively invites a mischievous youngster to complete its destruction and in these times of fuel shortages, take home the remains. We called attention a few weeks ago to the fact that the slotted post was needed to be put into thorough repair but evidently no value is attached to this unique piece of work’.

But with no local History Society around in those days to care for it, plus the Kenilworth Urban District Council (KUDC) not seemingly interested, it looked like the stile was doomed. But somehow it has survived.

Before its restoration, the stile had been in situ for well over 100 years, If the Victorian photo at the top of this page is anything to go by, the stile is probably more than 160 years-old. But no one really knows its full age. Only dendro dating could establish an approximate age.

Vandalised – 1973

In late February 1973, due to concerns about the condition of the gate, the Kenilworth History & Archaeology Society, wrote to the KUDC suggesting that members of their Society remove and restore it. They also suggested it should be resited in a position where it could be seen, and operated without danger or misuse. But there were delays in granting permission, due to questions of ownership. The Parks & Cemetery Committee, finally granted permission but only a few weeks before it had been vandalised on the 16th June. Unfortunately during this period, the Society was deeply committed to work at Little Virginia, so the stile wasn’t retrieved before the vandalism occured. The remaining parts were salvaged, and placed in the ‘Barn’. And there the shattered stile lay, for more than a decade ……….

The Restoration – 1986

To restore it, Cyril had to source good old but sound oak fence posts from the local council, it took almost a month of spare time, to splice bits together, and to get it fully functioning again. Because the bottoms of the posts had rotted, they could never go in the ground again; so he devised the ‘low castored truck’, so the whole contraption could be hauled back into its original place, if required.

There is no doubt, that if Cyril had not stepped in to rescue the stile when he did, then it could have disappeared forever. It could never have been put back in situ at the gatehouse. There it would certainly have been vandalised again, then what? So, ‘Nice One Cyril’

Abbey Museum & Heritage Centre – Abbey Fields

Look closely at the 1986 photograph, you will see a much younger version of Cyril. This was on the day that he handed it back. I wonder how many locals remember it, and whether they too had fun with it?

Present Day

Robert Charles Henry Green, was born to Mother Gwendoline (nee Cave), and Father George Harry, on 19th November 1918, just over a week after Armistice Day, at 14, Clinton Lane, where they rented a room.  This was at a time of no NHS, and when home births were common practice. 

During 1938/39, it was obvious to everybody (except Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain apparently) that World War Two was coming along, sooner or later.

Robert didn’t much fancy conscription into the Infantry when war did arrive, so he decided to find an alternative combat role, and the Artillery fitted the bill.  So in March 1939, he made the decision to join-up.

He walked into the headquarters of the Territorial Army of the 271st (Warwick) Field Battery, Royal Artillery at Clarendon Place, in Leamington Spa, and signed on the dotted line.  

He was now a ‘Gunner’ in the Royal Warwick’s, but his plan on keeping out of the frontline backfired on him as he was eventually deployed as a ‘Signaller/Driver’ for the 271st Battery, a job which directed fire from the frontline with the infantry!

As we all know, World War Two was declared on 3rd September 1939, when Neville Chamberlain made that famous speech on the radio, but orders had already been given to 271st Battery, two days earlier to report for duty as soon as possible to Clarendon Place.  Two weeks later, his regiment was mobilised, and they moved south to Swindon, where they trained for several weeks, in readiness for war.

British Expeditionary Force

Aged 21, Robert was part of the BEF (British Expeditionary Force), that was sent to France to tackle the Germans.  He sailed with the 68th (South Midland) Field Regiment, which included two Field Batteries, his 271st, based at Leamington/Rugby, and their sister Battery, the 269th from Birmingham. They were both part of the 48th (South Midland) Division. 

Robert eventually set sail for France in January 1940, and docked at La Havre, and was met by snow and freezing conditions. The Regiment then travelled to Bolbec about 20 miles away, here the 271st Battery, were allocated farm buildings to bed down for the night, and a cold night it was too.  They all used hay as improvised mattresses.  The following day, they travelled 130 miles south to Lallaing, near Douai in the Nord region.   With temperatures still well below freezing, and snow continuing to fall, the journey was extremely hazardous.  Robert’s battery was billeted in the nearby village of Anhiers, which was a coal mining district. Their first night was spent in some derelict buildings in a disused colliery. A night, no one was likely to forget as they slept on steel floors, in sub zero temperatures. Not much slept was had by anybody. Thankfully however, they were soon found accommodation at local private houses. The weather was so cold, that the radiators on their vehicles, had to be drained every night to prevent the water freezing and cracking the engine blocks.

The Germans were obviously waiting for the better weather to arrive before they attacked, and even though conditions improved during March, nothing yet had happened. In the meantime the 271st Battery, and the regiment continued with various types of training, including marches, gun drills, vehicle maintenance and lectures etc. They even had French lessons.

WW1 Equipment

Robert’s war had started slowly, but the 271st Battery, like much of the BEF weren’t really equipped for modern warfare against the heavily armed, and modernised Germans Forces. They only had one rifle per five men, and they had to use 18 Pounder Artillery pieces from the First World War, which were stamped ‘1917’.  Not only did they still have First World War equipment.

The Germans finally attacked Holland, and Belgium on 10th May. The Battery was first called into action in Belgium, when supporting the 145th Infantry Brigade on 16th May at Waterloo, south of Brussels.  But there was no enemy contact that day, as the Belgium Army were just about holding back the Germans, so they withdrew 15 miles to Castre near Hal, leaving the Belgium’s to their fate.  No sooner had they ‘dug in’ when they were on the move again. So, on 17th May, they moved a further 20 miles to Houtaing, west of Ath, to counteract the anticipated threat of enemy armoured vehicles that had crossed the River Deindre.  Once again, they did not fire a shot, and moved another 20 miles, to positions at Wez Velvain near Tournai.  It was here on 19th May, that Robert had his first battle, when he directed fire in support of the 144th Infantry Brigade, when they were holding a stretch of the River Escault. Under heavy shelling, they held this position until 22nd May, but the situation was rapidly deteriorating, so they had to drop back to Sameon, just inside the France border. 

Rapid Withdrawal

The Nazi Blitzkrieg (Lightening War) was now unstoppable, so a rapid withdrawal became the only option for the BEF, but the awful road congestion due to fleeing soldiers, and refugees made it difficult.  Troop movement was done mainly at night, to avoid the Stuka and Messerschmitt aircraft, but this had its own problems.  Travelling by night, and fighting by day, meant that troops were getting no proper rest or sleep.  Drivers including Robert, were literally falling asleep at the wheel, and accidents did occur especially as they were travelling so close to the vehicle in front, without lights.  Lights were not allowed to be used on vehicles as this could have given their position away. If a vehicle stopped quickly a domino effect of collisions would occur.

Click on image to enlarge

By the 24th May, the Battery had moved to the south west of Lille, to halt the German forces advancing from the south.  Matters were not helped, when it was reported that the Belgium Army, had capitulated on the 26th May, which left the BEF exposed.  The next day, they were pushed back again, this time 25 miles northwards to Elverdinghe, near Ypres. Here, they occupied their final positions, and on 29th May, they fired their last rounds of ammunition. Orders came through, to head towards the coast for evacuation. Calais and Boulogne had fallen, so the only port available to the BEF was Dunkirk, where literally thousands of allied troops were already congregating on the beaches, in the hope of being shipped back to England.

After destroying their guns, and trucks so that the enemy could not make use of them, the 271st Battery, walked the last few miles under continuous harassment from enemy aircraft. Trucks were destroyed by draining the oil, and running the engines until they seized, they were then set on fire.  Guns were blown-up by putting an explosive charge in the breech.

On their journey to the coast, the 271st Battery could see the destruction that the Luftwaffe had brought upon the country. Towns and villages, that had deliberately been targeted, lay in rubble. Many of their civilians now with no homes left, also headed towards the coast, hopeful maybe, of escape themselves. Such was the chaos, and confusion, Robert somehow became detached from his battery, but made his way to Dunkirk, with just a handful of his comrades.

Arrival at Dunkirk

On arrival at Dunkirk, Robert could see the full extent of the trouble the BEF were in.  As far as the eye could see, troops in their thousands spread along the beach, in all directions.  Men in orderly lines, stretched down to the beach, and into the sea up to their necks to await embarkation.  Looking along the beach towards Dunkirk Harbour where the bulk of troops were amassed, black plumes of smoke could be seen, belching out into the sky, for many a mile, where the fuel dumps were on fire.

On the beaches, the troops were totally exposed, with no cover at all. Straight away Robert went up in the dunes, and dug himself a six foot deep trench. The softness of the sand offered some protection against bombs, as only a direct hit or a very near miss would cause injury. The blast would be absorbed, so less shrapnel was scattered.

One of the most terrifying moments was when Messerschmitt’s flew parallel to the beach, strafing machine gun fire into the troops.  After three long days on the beach, it was Robert’s turn to leave his trench, and join the queue to get on a ship but troops became more vulnerable out in the open beach.

The beaches at Dunkirk had long gradual slopes, so large naval craft could not get near to the troops. Various ideas were put into place to get troops out to the ships, one was to drive vehicles out at low tide and lined them up nose-to-tail, to form a type of pier, men could then walk across the roofs, and get closer to the ships.  The evacuation became famous for all the small boats that sailed over, to ferry the troops from the beaches to ships lying off shore.  This came about when an SOS was sent out to all owners of small boats between 30 feet and 100 feet in length, to help with the evacuation, known officially as operation ‘Dynamo’. Hundreds of these civilian craft including tugboats, motor yachts and cruisers, eventually came to the aid of the BEF, and played a significant part in the operation.  Around a third of the total troops evacuated from Dunkirk, can thank these small craft for their safe return.

However, Robert was on a stretch of beach where not many small boats were present.  So, in the afternoon of 31st May, he waded out up to his neck, and had no option, but to swim to a destroyer, and scramble aboard.  Luckily, during the evacuation, the weather was excellent, and the flat-calm conditions, were a godsend.

Destroyers were a prime target for the Stuka dive bombers, especially as there were so many troops on board, and on several occasions they attacked the destroyer Robert was aboard, but luckily the bombs missed their target.  

On the day of Robert’s evacuation (31st May), a total of 68,014 men were rescued from the beaches, and harbour at Dunkirk, the highest daily total during the operation.  The final count during the nine day evacuation was a staggering 338,226, far more than originally estimated.

It was later discovered that the German High Command had halted their Panzer Divisions for a three days from 24th May, when they got to the River Aa, west of Dunkirk.  We can only guess, what would have happened to the BEF, if the Panzers had continued their onslaught. Historians to this day, still debate why this happened.

Daily Totals Evacuated from Dunkirk

Date	From Beaches	From Harbour	Daily Total
Mon 27 May	–	7,699	7,699
Tue  28 May	5,930	11,874	17,804
Wed 29 May	13,752	33,558	47,310
Thu 30 May	29,512	24,311	53,823
Fri  31 May	22,942	45,072	68,014
Sat   1 June	17,348	47,081	64,429
Sun  2 June	6,695	19,561	26,256
Mon 3 June	1,870	24,876	26,746
Tue  4 June	622	25,553	26,175
TOTAL	98,671	239,555	338,226

Although the RAF gave good air support over the English Channel, it was still a tense and nervous crossing due to the constant threat of being torpedoed. Robert, unshaven, exhausted and starving, eventually landed at Dover late into the evening.  After a cup of tea, and some food, he was sent by train to Bovington Camp in Dorset, for some much needed R&R, where he apparently slept for nearly two days! 

Robert went on to serve in North Africa, the Middle East and Italy. His last battle of the war, was in Italy on 20^th April 1945, near Fiorentina, when they were in support of the 1st and 2nd Punjab’s, whose mission it was to cross the River Idice.  It was here in Italy, just over two weeks later, that the 271st Battery celebrated VE day.

Due to Robert’s reserved occupation as a Gas Fitter, (he worked at the Gas Works at Mill End) he was discharged in December 1945.  He was safely back in Kenilworth, after a long and gruelling adventure. Robert re-enlisted in the TA until 1949, and in total, he was in the Artillery for just over 10 years.

On leave in 1942, Robert, “Bob” to his friends had met 17-year-old Doreen Beryl Jackson from Edgbaston, who was staying next door to him at School Lane in Kenilworth. After proposing to her on the pier at St Ives, they married in January 1946 at the Methodist schoolroom, Stirling Road in Edgbaston. The schoolroom was used because the church was bombed out. Their marriage produced two children, and two grandsons.

Robert Died in 2008, aged 89, and Beryl in 2019, aged 94.

The war of James Walter Lewis, began when a letter dropped through the letterbox of his house in Watling Road, at the beginning of May 1940.  It was from the War Office, ordering him to go to the Swift Skating ring in Coventry, for a medical.  He duly attended, and was passed A1, and finally on 30th May (at the height of the Dunkirk evacuation), he received his ‘Call Up’ papers.

Jim’s first stop, was at Birmingham Station, where he was confronted by hundreds of other men, who had also been recruited into this new battalion. They boarded another train and arrived at Hanley to be met by several regular soldiers and an officer. They all walked a couple of miles into the town to the depot that had been allocated for them. Here they were given a meal, a uniform, a mess tin and a bandage pack.  Another train was boarded, and they eventually ended up at a stately home near Blandford in Dorset.  Here, they started their basis training, and were issued with .303 Royal Enfield rifles.

After spending a couple of weeks in Dorset, the battalion was on the move again, to Burnham-on-Sea, just south of Weston-Super-Mare, in Somerset.  But the battalion was quickly moved again, this time to Yorkshire to start firearms training on the .303 rifles. Jim turned out to be a crack shot, hitting 5 bulls out of 5 at his first attempt! His officer was so delighted in his performance, that he persuaded the other platoons to have a competition amongst themselves, and you’ve guessed it, Jim’s ‘A’ platoon won.

At this point the 12th Battalion was split into various units and Jim was placed in the 91st Light Anti-Aircraft Regiment, and was now part of the Royal Artillery.  They were given the task of training on the 40mm, Swedish made Bofors guns.  The officers of the regiment noticed Jim’s leadership potential, and promoted him firstly to Lance Corporal, and then to Bombardier (Corporal) and finally to a War Sergeant (Full Sergeant).  Jim was now in charge of the regiment’s Gun No.6.  Bofors guns required several men to operate them, and the six gun-crews started their training on seafront at Clacton-On-Sea, in Essex.  Here, they were billeted at a newly built Butlins holiday camp.  Arial targets would be towed along the beach by planes, and the gun crews would attempt to hit them, whilst trying their best not to hit the planes!

Off to Bonnie Scotland

Towards the end of 1942, the regiment travelled to Dalbeattie, in the Dumfries and Galloway area of Scotland.  Here, they continued training on their guns, firing their shells from the beaches at the targets into the Solway Firth.  It was in Dalbeattie, that Jim met his first wife, Betty.  They eventually married on the 23rd February 1943, but there was a problem, Betty was a catholic, and Jim was a protestant.  So, she asked Jim to become a catholic, which he agreed to do, but this couldn’t be done straight away, due to Jim’s forthcoming deployment.  The local priest allowed them to marry, but the ceremony took place in his study, not in the main body of the church.  Jim officially became a catholic, about twelve months later, when he was confirmed at a church in Milan. They had no time for a honeymoon, as the regiment would soon be off to North Africa, on a troop ship from Greenock.  Embarkation started on the 13th March, and sailed two days later, on Jim’s 23rd Birthday.

Jim and Betty were married for 32 years, until her un-timely death in 1975.

Invasion of North Africa – Operation Torch

The convoy consisted of 19 ships, which included 10 escorting Destroyers, Jim was on a Greek ship called the Nea Hellas.  On 23rd March, when they were less than 100 miles from Algiers, the convoy was attacked by two planes, at approximately 2am.  Both planes carried single torpedoes, one troop ship, the HMS Windsor Castle, was hit, but did not sink until around 5.30am.  This gave three of the destroyers, precious time to rescue nearly 3,000 men from the stricken ship.  Only one man was killed in the incident, but it could so easily have been many more.

Having docked at Algiers, Jim was detailed to take 40 men along the coast to Bougie to collect their Bofors guns and other equipment they needed. They didn’t travel by road to Bougie but sailed along the coast using troop landing crafts.

The 91st Regiment, was now part of the British 1st Army, commanded by General Alexandra. Their first action was when several planes were sighted, and all the guns opened up on them.  Being very enthusiastic, and no doubt a ‘green’ bunch of men, the gun that Jim commanded ended up firing many more rounds than all of the others put together.  When the officer came to check on how many rounds Jim’s gun had fired, he told him 106, the officer nearly had a fit, and was not best pleased with Jim.  The other five guns barely shot 20 rounds between them!                

Friendly Fire

The regiment left Algeria, and travelled to Tunisia where they took part in the final stages of the Tunisian Campaign.  On one particular day they were ‘dug-in’ along the side of a valley near Tunis when the guns opened up on 3 single seater fighter planes which were flying low down the centre of the valley.  Jim ordered his gun-crew not to fire as he recognised them as Hurricanes, not Messerschmitt 109’s.  They were more bulkier than the streamlined 109’s, also the British Roundel (circular insignia), on the side of the planes, was clearly visible.  After the firing had ceased, a bad-tempered battery officer came to see why Jim’s gun had not fired at the planes, so Jim explained why.  But the officer was adamant they were 109’s, and told Jim he had not heard the last of it.  The officer returned later, but with an apology, the planes were indeed Hurricanes, not 109’s.  Apparently, the divisional HQ had been mistakenly shot upon these planes, so they had returned fire. Jim was proven correct in his judgement, but this ‘friendly fire’ incident, could so easily have turned into a disaster.

On another occasion, Jim and his gun-crew had a near miss when an enemy shell landed about 50 yards from their position.  However, it exploded amongst a group of soldiers from the Royal West Kent Regiment, who had returned from the front line for some R&R.  Unfortunately, several soldiers were killed in the incident, at the time they had been happily playing cards.

After months of fighting, the British entered Tunis in early May, and the last resistance from the enemy came in the Cape Bon Peninsula, where the Allies had trapped them against the coast. The refusal of Hitler and Mussolini’s to retreat from Tunisia turned out to be a fatal decision. This entrapment, and their lack of supplies, meant only one thing – the Axis were beaten.  By the middle of May, the campaign in Tunisian was over, and with it, an estimated 250,000 prisoners, which including most of the Afrika Korps.   

Tragedy

Following the Tunisian campaign, the 91st Regiment were ordered back to Algeria, to await their next deployment. This would eventually be Italy.  Whilst in Algiers, the driver of Jim’s gun-crew was suffering from a terrible bout of piles, Jim was asked by an officer if he would drive the truck (known as a Gun Tractor), that towed his Bofors gun.  He accepted the request from the officer, but Jim wasn’t an experienced driver at all, but he would give it a go.  He had concerns about their ‘crash’ gear boxes, and the brakes weren’t servo assisted, so stopping these heavy-duty vehicles wasn’t easy.  But Jim’s decision to take on the driving, would haunt him for the rest of his life.  

In a convoy of six vehicles, Jim was driving down a steep mountain road, which had a sheer drop on one side.  He started going too fast, and lost control, the Gun Tractor rolled over onto its roof.  By sheer luck, there was a telegraph pole on the side of the road, which stopped the whole lot falling into the valley before. But the tragedy of the accident was that one of Jim’s crew was killed when the metal bar across the top of the windscreen, went into his chest, killing him outright. Jim never drove a truck again.

The Itailian Campaign

In March 1944, the regiment sailed to Italy, and landed in Naples, just as the nearby Mount Vesuvius was erupting. The major objective of the Allies was Rome, but to get there, they needed to overcome the Winter Line, which was a series of German and Italian fortifications across the country. The town of Cassino was a target of the Allies, but particularly the Benedictine Abbey known as Monte Cassino.  It overlooked the town, and the Allies firmly believed that it was being used as an observation post.  The Americans heavily bombed it, but most of the people killed, were apparently civilians. The ruins served only to give more cover for the defenders.  Several gruelling months of fighting took place, with the Polish forces taking the brunt of the casualties.  When Jim’s regiment arrived on scene, they took part in the fourth and final battle of the Abbey. The Artillery put down a heavy bombardment before the infantry went in on the final push. Both the Polish and British flags were raised over the ruins, on 18^th May.

After Cassino, the Allies including Jim’s regiment entered Rome after the enemy had withdrawn from the city as they were being pushed into the north of the country.  In July 1944 the new Italian government signed an armistice with the Allies.  Mussolini however, continued to resist, and formed his own ‘Italian Social Republic‘, in the north of Italy. They fought alongside the Germans, but this new ‘government’, never amounted to more than being just a puppet state of Germany.

Regiment Disbanded

As a fighting unit, the 91st Anti-Aircraft Regiment, became inactive for several months, and eventually disbanded. The enemy’s threat from the air was now, non-existent.  This meant all the men needed to find themselves other units.  Whilst at a transit camp in Naples, the Parachute Regiment, were recruiting, so Jim decided to sign up for them.  He travelled to a training camp near Rome, on the banks of the River Tiber, where he started his general training.  Jim never got to do a parachute jump, so didn’t officially become a paratrooper. But after only a few weeks, Jim decided it wasn’t for him, so requested a transfer.

Later Years

Later in life, he got a job in the paint-shop at Wickman Machine Tools, Banner Lane in Coventry, where he worked for over 30 years. He married his second wife, Josephine in the year 2000, and they lived in Northvale Close, not that far away from his former home in Watling Road.

Unfortunately, Jim died in 2020, two days short of his 100th Birthday, even though he had already received many ‘100’ cards from family and friends. Plus one, from Her Majesty the Queen, which was also sent to him a few days early.