Capt. H.E. Beresford Mash, Up from the Gates: A Story of Divine Dealing through Dunkirk

I purchased this remarkable book from an online seller last week and found it a very powerful read.  Written as a testimony, it covers Beresford Mash's early war experiences in the Army Dental Corps.

Being in the Territorial Reserve, he was called up immediately on the commencement of hostilities and drew on the strength of his faith to see him through his fears about being sent abroad, the retreat through France in 1940 and his remarkable evacuation from Dunkirk.

Through daily Bible readings, Beresford Mash truly believed that God was in direct contact with him and his wife, guiding their actions.  Even whilst swimming in the cold waters off the beaches of Dunkirk when the boat carrying him to safety had been bombed three times and sunk, he was absolutely certain in God's promise that, `His hand shall lead you through, clear through... No wave can touch you, no foe can smith, no mightiest sea can drown.

For Beresford Mash, the greatest part of his rescue was not the deliverance from Dunkirk, but the `hallowed fellowship with the Promiser'.  He believed that his own faith turned God's promise into a prophecy.  Also during the period between February and June 1940, each time he faced a crisis in life, his wife felt led to give faith offerings to Christian work and these coincided with God's will working out in their lives and those of others.

The absolute conviction that runs through this book is exceptional.  His call to Christ at the end is powerful:-

Do you want to leave your mark and bear a strong testimony for Christ?  Do you want to be strong, virile, active in faith?  Then, reader, enter in now, for to enjoy such is your rightful inheritance in Christ and His desire for you.  Then you will be among those whom He has `lifted up from the Gates', not the Gates of Dath but from the death of the soul through unbelief, from an abortive destiny of your immortal soul.

Prisoners on the River Kwai

I recently read the book Prisoners on the River Kwai: Memoirs of Dr Harold Churchill: With extracts from the memories of ex-prisoners of war in the Far East. (Dereham: Larks Press, 2005)

The book was collated by Dr Sue Palmer, who briefly worked alongside him in a GP surgery in Dereham, Norfolk.

In 1940, Harold Churchill left his medical practice in Norfolk to join the army as a medical officer.  He was stationed in Glasgow, checking the health of men boarding the troop ships.  However this was not close enough to the action for him, so he put himself forward for service in India, and from there was taken to Singapore where he was captured in February 1942.

During his captivity he and his fellow-officers had the daunting task of caring for the sick and wounded among the many thousands of prisoners of war.  He managed to keep a diary on rice paper which he buried in a tin to keep it from the guards.  Had it been found, he would have been severely punished.  Later he wrote this up as a memoir, as a form of therapy.  Described as a `remarkable document, reticent, sensitive and poetic', it displays calm, undemonstrative religiosity, but shows flashes of Churchill drawing on the deep faith of his childhood to sustain him in some of the darker moments.

Following the war, he attended church every Sunday, although did not overtly identify himself with fellow FEPOWs on Remembrance Sunday.

Dr Harold Churchill

 

The second half of the book is a collection of memories collected by Dr Palmer from surviving Norfolk FEPOWs, and are a testament to the men's bravery in the face of some of the most barbaric treatment meted out during the war.

In 2011 a gingko tree was planted in East Dereham, the town to which Dr Churchill retired, in honour of the FEPOWs of that town.  http://www.edp24.co.uk/news/promise_is_met_at_last_in_dereham_to_honour_the_fepows_1_1124702

Norman Kirby's Falaise Gap Incident

Whilst reading the Norman Kirby book mentioned in a previous post, I came across this incident.  It is worth considering what challenges the Christian goes through in life to question his or her faith.

Here he is describing the aftermath of the Battle of Falaise Gap:-

It was this valley which during the fierce battles of 18 to 20 August [1944] became trapped with the choked traffic of German tanks, guns and transport at the mercy of Allied air attack by rocket-firing Typhoons in all their ear-splitting fury.  As the gap closed, the escape routes for the German Army had become blocked, not only by rocket and shell-fire, but also by the wreckage of burning vehicles, by their own exploding ammunition and by the stampeding of terrified horses entangled in their harness, dragging their waggons and gun carriages with them. Ten thousand Germans died in this battle and fifty thousand were taken prisoner.

There was hardly any room for my vehicle to pass through the gruesome piles of bodies of men and horses.  When our next site beyond Falaise had been chosen I came back through the same dreadful scene, and the following day was on my motorbike again, riding in escort for the main body of Tac HQ.  It was here that occurred to me one of the worst mishaps of my life in Normandy.  With the bodies of dead Germans heaped high on each side of the road, my motorbike broke down and refused to go any further.  Meanwhile our convoy moved on, overtook me, passing out of sight to leave me alone.  The maintenance of my vehicle was my own responsibility, but this was no routine job and demanded the skill of an expert mechanic and the resources of our Motor Transport (MT) workshop, which unfortunately had disappeared into the distance.

The heat was intense, the smell nauseating and I decided to push my motorboke into the shade of a tree which stood up starkly on a hill in front of me in silhouette against the sky.  When I reached it I found that it was not a tree at all but the roasted bodies of a German tank crew trapped at waist and knees in the opening of the turret with their blackened arms and charred faces stretched upwards, locked tightly in a frantic effort to escape from their burning tank.  It was nightfall when the MT crew, having noticed my absence, eventually made their way back along this road of death to resuce me from my forlorn and grisly vigil.  Many of the dead were mere boys, some of them looked no more than fourteen years old.  I had taught boys of that age and taken them to Scout camps.

There was much to think about during those hours spent in their company. It was not long after arriving in darkness at the new camp site that I was taken ill with dysentery and with what I can only describe as a spiritual sickness involving religious values and anxiety about life and death and human destiny.  Why was the reality of war so slow to make its full impact?  I don't think it was due to a sluggish imagination.  I had seen newsreels of the war, experienced the London Blitz, heard my father talk, sparingly it must be said, about some of the horrors of Mons, Ypres and Passchendale in the trenches of the First World War, and I had recently taken part in the stirring and disturbing climax of D-Day.  Perhaps the truth is that up to that moment I had been enjoying (yes enjoying!) too much the feeling of being on some unique mission; still intoxicated by the adventure of Overlord and the awareness, encouraged by our politicians and war leaders, of being part of history, and too busy with endless duties to meditate on the larger issues of life and death.  The odd church parade was no substitute for such an appraisal. It required five hours of solitary confinement in the company of ten thousand dead men to bring the real message of war home to me.

On the Eve of the Battle of El Alamein

Here is an interesting letter, written the day before the Battle of El Alamein.  There is a strong sense of holding to Christian faith before the inferno.

7374615

L/CPL J. BROOM

7 LT.FD. AMB.

22^nd OCT ‘42

 

Dearest Mum

 

             A week ago I promised that I would continue my impressions of Cairo.  Though long delayed, here at last is the letter.  Much sand has blown about the desert & much rain has fallen since my airgraph was written, real torrential stuff.  But for the last three days the sun has been in the ascendant, & it’s almost like mid-summer again.  The flies, which had begun to despair, have taken a new lease of life & resumed their 1942 offensive against mankind.

 

            I think, before I proceed to write about Cairo, that you would like to know exactly what letters have reached me.

 

            Here they are, letters written on April 27^th, April 28^th, May 5^th, May 6^th, May 13^th, May 20^th, May 28^th, June 2^nd, June 10^th June 17^th, June 24^th, July 1^st, July 7^th, July 17th, July 22^nd, July 30^th, August 6^th, August 14^th, and lastly August 20^th.  From which list one gathers that, in all probability, every one of your letters has reached me.  Good show, what?

 

            Thanks for the newspaper cuttings sent with the last letter.  I certainly should have loved to see those famous cricketers at Colchester, six of which I’ve actually seen play in county matches.

 

            I can guess that the garden looks as lovely as you say it does & that you miss me everywhere.  Strange when one considers that the total time I’ve spent at `Roselands’ amounts to a few weeks. I’m glad to learn that you did enjoy your short stay with Dad, Iris B & the girls, although you were unfortunate enough to catch illness off Mary.  I haven’t seen radishes as large as your description of Walter’s. He must be even prouder than usual.

 

            Regarding the papers, I appear to be receiving them frequently.  The Christian papers are a great comfort & joy to read, and the local papers, though not so interesting as heretofore, yet contain some interest.

 

            Reference your concern about my bodily needs.  The food is good & plenteous, my clothes are adequate & comfortable, my bed, though hard, is nevertheless warm.  My health, moreover, was never better, you’ll be glad to know.

 

            We had a church service here last Sunday, and a couple of mornings ago I attended a communion service at 7am!  However, services are few, usually about one a fortnight, owing to operational reasons.

 

            I shall be interested to know what happens to Walter & Uncle Frank.  Yes, dear, it would be such a shame if the shop in St. John’s St is closed down.  I do hope it won’t come to that, for everybody’s sake.

 

            If I had known about Fred Martin before I went on leave, I would have looked him up.  He would have been surprised if I had walked in!

 

            I was really shocked by what you wrote of Frank Halls & his wife.  I remember how she looked and spoke when Pansy & I travelled in the train with her from North Stn when she was going to visit Frank at Brentwood.  She appeared quite lovesick in a gentle sort of way.  Perhaps that was an indication of tepidity, as love, undoubtedly, should be anything but gentle.  I’m very very sorry.  I don’t know the rate for civilian-sent cables. But the rate here for soldiers to send an E.F.M. cable is two & sixpence per three set phrases.  You can enquire at the P.O. as to the charge.  Iris E. sent me one a month or so ago.

 

            I haven’t received a letter from Dad yet, but I fully understand.  It’s a distasteful job, when all is said & done, and such a poor substitute for personal contact.

 

            Sorry to see that Leslie Rabett is in much the same situation as Frank, regarding Freda.  It behoves one to tread warily, what?

 

            Dick appears to be after that Field Marshall’s baton.  Two stripes is going it rather.  Cutting a dash & all that.  Won’t do!

 

            You will be glad to know that I’ve had at least two of my friends with me at any given time, for, as my friends are clerks, it is inevitable for one or two to be with me, though some, it is true, are detached, for long stretches, from the unit.  (I seem to have comma-it is!)

 

            I’m wondering what you’re doing now, dear.  Finding things rather flat, I should think, after having the girls & Dad to Sweetbriar & spending a couple of weeks at Roselands.  I’m wondering more especially whether Arthur’s work has meant the removal of his household to a place nearer his new depot.

 

            I do pray that dear Mary has fully recovered from her bad cold which surely lasted too long to be comfortable.

 

            Those texts are a blessing, especially the one you quote, “He led them on safely, the feared not.  How good is the God we adore.”

 

            I am claiming His Protection these days.  As I write this on the night of Oct 23^rd events are occurring which will find a place in your newspaper.  I know I have your prayers.  God’s Will be done.

 

            I though that George Polley was in Egypt, not India. My hopes of seeing him are dim.

 

            The extracts you sent of Spurgeon’s readings are truly helpful.  If only we could accept without bitterness that the “worst calamity is the wisest & the kindest thing that could befall to us if God ordains it”.  How variable are life’s values, how uncertain, altering as they do according to one’s need, circumstances, outlook, ambition.

            I wonder if Auntie May received the letter I wrote her on the boat.

 

            I have just been re-reading Geoffrey King’s Tabernacle sermon “When the Master Springs to His Feet”. And because of its exceptional aptness and beauty, have decided that it will be one of the few things I must find room for in my wanderings.  “Arise, let us go hence”.  Those are the words of the text.  I’m reminded of the hymn we used to sing – “Anywhere with Jesus I will gladly go”.  So if at times, dearest of all mothers, you feel a pang of uneasiness, disquiet, remember that I’m not alone, and after all, I’m but following Moses & Joseph into Egypt.

 

            And the Holy Family came to Egypt to escape the hand of Herod.  Our Dental Officer on leave in Cairo, visited the Coptic Church in part of which the family is reputed, by tradition, to have stayed.  I have read a booklet on the subject.

 

            I did see a tableau of the “Flight into Egypt” In the Waxworks in Cairo.  Also tableaux of “The Judgement of Solomon” (Two babes) “The Suicide of Cleopatra”, “The Finding of Moses by the Egyptian Princess”, “Joseph in Prison with the Baker & Butler”, “A Wedding in a Coptic Church”, “Scenes at the Opening of the Suez Canal”, “Deep Sea Divers after Pearls” etc.etc.  Most of the et ceteras portrayed scenes taken from Egyptian history.

 

            It was pretty warm in Cairo when I was there.  What must it be like in July!!!  I’ve never had so many iced drinks & sweets (iced) as I had in my few days stay.

 

            While being driven in a gharry from the station I saw a shop bearing the name `Nile Mission Press’.  I couldn’t find it afterwards (Cairo is a large place) but at the time I thought of you & Mr Oliver.  I don’t know whether I mentioned it in my last letter or not, but when I was touring the native bazaars I was induced to buy a handbag, which I intended for you.  You may not get it. If you do, most likely there will be a stunning tax on the thing. Please pay that duty out of my money.  I’m afraid that the bag is a very inferior sort of article, rather shoddy & second-hand looking, but really, the prices of things in Cairo are shocking & I don’t think there were any decent bags, not even in the reputable shops.

           

            Should you get the bag, please do as I say, & accept it as a poor substitutional Xmas gift.

 

            In a similar moment of weakness I purchased some scent essence for Iris, which, if she receives it, musn’t be mixed with alcohol!!  What have we come to, eh?

 

            I hazard a shrewd guess that the tax on scent is large & generous, so as I don’t want Iris E to foot the bill, please insist on paying out of my money.

            It is a picturesque sight to see a native (man or woman) sitting on a donkey trotting along the highway.  Typically Biblical.  Well, dearest, it’s nearly 3a.m. & I must really come to a stop.

 

            Please remember me to all at Roselands & Sweetbriar.  May you have that river-like peace.

 

            Trusting all are well, especially Dad & yourself, with fondest love.

 

            Yr loving son,

 

            John

            xxxxxxx

1100 Miles with Monty

Today's research is studying the book 1100 Miles with Monty: Security and Intelligence at Tac HQ by Norman Kirby (Stroud: Sutton, 2003).

Norman Kirby was in charge of intelligence and security at Monty's Tactical HQ between 1943 and 1946.  He had the responsibility of Monty's personal safety and gave him a priviliged position to see some of the key events of the war.

He had trained as a language teacher, and so was also used as an interpreter during the North West Europe campaign.  The book is written accessibly and with a large degree of humanity.  He gives excellent insights into the mentalitites of the French, Belgian, Dutch and German citizens he came across during the time,

In terms of the Onward Christian Soldiers project, Kirby refers to his Sunday School upbringing, and how the lessons he learned then were sometimes at odds with the tasks he had to undertake in the war.  He also makes reference to Montgomery's own religiosity.

Well worth a read.  A good example of someone with a solid Christian background, but not obviously at the evangelical or devotional end of the spectrum.

How it all began

I grew up knowing that my father had been in the Desert Rats during World War Two.  Beyond that I knew nothing.  Unfortunately he died before I had a chance to be old enough to ask him about his war experiences.  As my interest in family history grew, I managed to find his Army Service Record, which gave me a lot more details about his Unit and places of action.


However, in an act of what I believe was some kind of divine agency, I received a telephone call in 2006 from a lady in Colchester telling me that a relative had recently died and in her effects there was a collection of items to do with my father.  Did I want to collect them otherwise she would dispose of them?  It really was no decision to make, and the next day I drove all the way from Yorkshire to Colchester to collect a carrier bag stuffed full of papers and other items.

 
As my wife and I sat eating lunch I peeled back letter after letter written in my father's neat small handwriting, all dated between 1940 and 1946.  I picked out letter after letter, each one revealing fascinating information about his life back then, three decades before my birth.  Over the next few months I faithfull typed up every word of each of the 170 letters and felt I grew to know my father as young man in his 20s.

 
I learned a fascinating story, one of faith under pressure, one of meeting the challenges of the most serious dislocation of British society in centuries.  I began to want to place his experiences in their correct context.  How typical was his story?  What was the bigger picture for Christianity during the 1940s?

 

Pte. J.W.N. Broom 7374615 R.A.M.C.

 

I had completed an undergraduate degree in History in my early 20s, but realised that if I wanted to answer the above questions then I would need further training in the academic disciplines of academic research.  Therefore I paid to do an MA in Local and Regional History through the Open University and then enrolled as a PhD student at the University of Birmingham, being supervised by Dr Michael Snape, an international expert on Religion and Warfare.

 
The project I am undertaking is called `Onward Christian Soldiers', a study of the impact of war on aspects of Christian faith, Nationhood, Morality, Ecumenism, Evangelism and the Christian's view of military life.

 
I shall endeavour to keep this blog regularly updated and encourage the exchange of information and ideas.

 
All offers to help to sustain this project will be gratefully received.

 
John

 

Introduction

This blog is aimed at supporting the Onward Christian Soldiers project.  The project looks to preserve, collate and contextualise the World War Two experiences of men and women of Christian faith in the armed services.

There has been no significant academic work on how the war affected Christian faith in the UK.  I am currently undertaking PhD research at the University of Birmingham to address this gap in our knowledge and understanding.  This has been ongoing for two years and has been entirely self-funded whilst holding down a full-time job.

I would love to hear from anyone who could help me find letters, diaries or reminiscences from the time.  Also, if anyone knows of sources of financial support for this project, please get in touch.  Even £1 helps to pay for a book or archive visit.

Feel free to have a read of my postings and add anything you think may be of interest.

John Broom


Johnbroom@aol.com