Reynolds - Grandads War: A Coldstream Guards Frontline Experiences During WWII

Introduction

Grandad didnt believe in God because of the things that he had seen during the war and because of what other human beings could do to each other. My Nana believed in God because she said God helped bring Grandad home safely.

However they both had good hearts and believed in doing the right thing. They have taught me much and have shown me anything worth real value will always be attained through struggle. Doing the right thing be the hardest thing at times.

My name is Amanda Reynolds. Im one of Stephen Simpsons eight grandchildren. He was an inspiration to me before I even started this project because he was always so jolly and warm and full of happiness.

During WWII he was on the front line, he was in the 5 th Battalion Coldstream Guards, his service number was 2664217 and rank, Sergeant. I recognised his stories were in the thick of the action and held a heavy weight of importance and truth. Im no historian, and had no particular interest in the war years, but that changed. I vowed one day to sit down with my Grandad and interview him, and that is exactly where this book came from.

In 2004 I sat with my Grandad Steve, in his back room, the one used for best and guests. He lived with my Nana, his wife Beryl, in Leeds, West Yorkshire. My Nana kept us in good supply of tea and biscuits and I pressed record on my Dictaphone and listened to my Grandads experience of war. My understanding and profound respect for my Grandad, his friends and comrades, and the Coldstream Guards themselves, grew with every biscuit I ate, every cuppa we shared, and every tape I turned over for more. He is the only man I have ever met who can talk about the war and make it funny, even warm and comfy, yet truly horrific at the same time.

I left and asked myself the question is he just a gifted story teller? And so I began my research. I researched for many hours and ticked off every date, every place and every name he mentioned. I was amazed at the accuracy of his story. I even returned to him just to ask:

Grandad, how can you remember everything so accurately? The day, the date, the place, even what the weather was like?

What was the last traumatic thing that happened to you? He replied.

I knew, immediately what it was, when, where, what the weather was like, and how it made me feel. I understood his answer straight away; then he just carried on drinking his cuppa and whistling another little ditty to his smiling self.

I dont have a degree in history, the story is not full of facts and figures, but it has been researched hard. I have made sure it is as factual and historically accurate as possible, in honour of every last man who fought for our freedom, and in particular, for my Grandads friends, who died fighting.

I have an interest in my Grandads story being told, so that my children and future generations understand the atrocious importance of what happened during WWII. My hope is that this story will bring the Second World War alive to another generation, delivered by my generation. And should our children walk passed a cenotaph, they might know what it represents, and it might give them a feeling and a sense of what war truly means.

Grandads War is the reality of one soldiers journey, told from a true Yorkshire mans point of view, with great warmth and light humour. Quite how my Grandad made WWII seem cosy and funny, as well as horrendous, is a mystery to me. War is not romantic and the soldiers must not be forgotten: its too important; its too life changing; its bigger than all of us; I know that now.

Figure No.1: This photograph is of some of my Grandads personal artefacts, they help tell the story of his journey.

His medals are in the centre, on his green beret with cap star, alongside his Sergeant Stripes. The Coldstream Guards Shoulder Titles are above. Surrounding these is a Nazi Iron Cross, some French Francs, a Trained Soldier Badge, some Officers Collar Insignia, Belgium coins, two All Seeing Eye shoulder badges representing the Guards Armoured Division and photographs of his unit.

These and everything else you can see in this photograph are featured in more detail throughout his book.

The Coldstream Guards motto is Nulli Secundus which is Latin for Second to None.

Grandad, Stephen Simpson was a warm friendly giant, a strapping 6ft 2 and well built. He stood proud and tall with straight back making him appear even taller; his personality was as large as his stature. I always remember hearing him before I seeing him, he was always whistling a happy little ditty. When he smiled his eyes twinkled with an impish cheeky glow, as if he had one of his many rude or silly jokes on the tip of his tongue. He had great humility and loved his family dearly, he had an admirable, forgiving nature and lots of patience for his 4 children, 8 grandchildren and at the time of his death, 8 great grandchildren, and still counting.

In an old Lloyds Bank security deposit box he kept an amazing collection of artefacts that he had saved, all telling the story of his journey during WWII on the frontline. Through hard battles he watched his young friends and comrades perish; they never saw the future which their courage and lives helped to build for us. Be it strong spirit, sheer luck or tough fighting, he was one of the few who made it home and made an unpretentious life for his family.

Steve, as he liked to be known; was a founder member of the Coldstream Guards Association, Leeds branch. He worked tirelessly for them all his life. His gratitude for the simple things in life and passionate respect for the forces taught me much. His recounting of his own story is warm, humorous and humbling, much like the Grandad I knew. I genuinely hope you enjoy his story and take away with you a part of this everyday hero, who was a real pleasure to know.

Steve grew up in a small rural village called Garforth in the heart of West Yorkshire in England. He had an older brother and sister called Kathleen and Len and his Father was called James; he lost his Mother at 14. When he was just 17 he went to join the army and escaped a life down the local coal mine in Micklefield.

When I was in the army we use to go down the front and there was this guy called Jim. But I will tell you about Jim, Bull Dimment later on. We just have to stay on the right line in the beginning.

From being a schoolboy I always wanted to be a soldier. On leaving school at 14, in 1938, I started working in a coal mine in Micklefield Colliery.

When I left school, me two brother-in-laws were soldiers. Id always wanted to be a soldier, it was my intention.

Then in 1939, the Second World War broke out and everything went sort of weird, in the fact that all the lights went out in the street, houses were blacked out, everyone was issued with a gas mask in case the Germans might use gas on us. This was at the beginning of the war.

I was 16 and went down to Little Eden. It was on Marsh Lane in an old tenement building there, There were 3 or 4 recruiting offices in Leeds at the time; I reported there. I nearly got signed up for the Sherwood Foresters, the Nottinghamshire Regiment.

The recruiting officer is looking at me. The Sergeant said, How old are you lad? Im 18, I said

Yer not,

I am,

Yer not! How old are you? Im saying youre between 14 and 16. He said, I tell yer what lad, I can see youre keen. So go home and eat your brother then come back and we might think about taking yer on.

Towards the back end of the year I was fed up of working down the pit and I was thinking well this is no bloody life... and Ill say this, we were poor, we were ranked arse poor, this is no exaggeration; we were ranked arse poor and there were just me Dad and me at home.