Preface

I do not profess to be a strategist or a politician and least of all a writer. On the contrary I have merely made an endeavour to depict the thoughts, ways and many adventures that befall an individual soldier at war. Adventures which to the ordinary civilian in the street may read like a chapter from “Grimms Fairy Tales” and even to myself, now, as I glance over the chapters, I wonder if all this is really true. Yet every word is an authentic fact, facts which to me now appear more like a dream than a reality; A bad dream, a nightmare, yet in all this there has been memorable moments, moments which I am neither inclined or desirious to forget. The comradeship, the thrill and inspritation, feeling of power, and victory after defeat.
To commence we have to cast our thoughts back to early September 1939, when the vast war machine of Germany was sweeping Europe with only the absolute armies of Britain and France barring their way to world conquest. On the 6th of September South Africa declared a state of war against Germany, but having no common frontier with the enemy, her troops were not engaged in open conflict. The government called for a volunteer army to serve within the borders of Africa, at the same time giving their promise to the opposition, who incidently were very strong, that no Union troops would be sent overseas. At this time it is only natural that there were great scenes of patriotism and consequently great numbers rallied to the colours.

Then came that memorable day in May when Belguim and France were literally over run by the German war machine, using a new type of strategy depending on sheer weight to drive a wedge into the Allies lines without regard to loss in dead and then filling the gap with their panzer devisions. This movement was inclined to cause chaos and confusion, and the British were forced to stage an evacuation, abandoning all their obsolete equipment while concentrating on getting as much of the man power possible away from the shores of Dunkirk.
Italy under the leadership of Fascist Mussolini who up to now has kept his country out of the war, took advantage of the position, thinking the callapse of British resistance was imminent, stabbed their old friend and ally in the back, allied with Germany and prepared to reap the spoils of their drastic misdeeds.

Now Italy was in proud possession of a large African Empire so this brought South Africa on to a war footing and her troops were sent to the Northern border of Kenya. But the Italians, whether just naturally not a born fighter or pure and simply what is termed as commonly browned off, I do not know, but in the short space of one year, Italy has lost her entire East African Empire. There remained but the sandy wastes of Libya and Tripolitania. The task of clearing the force was bestowed upon the British Eighth army which consisted of a conglomaration of troops from New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, England, India and the Free French who escaped from France when she was run over.

Various attempts were made, the first being towards the end of 1940 by General Wavell who succeeded in clearing the enemy to beyond Benghazi. Germany however counted that move by rushing troops through the Balkan countries to assist the Italians who up till then had suffered a terrific mauling in the hands of the noble Greek people, and at the same time rein forcing the Italians in Libya with the famous Afrika Korps under the surpreme command of German General Rommel. I say counted Wavell in that he was compelled to leave but a skeleton force in Libya and rush the build of his army to the aid of the Greeks, consequently the Italians in Africa were, with the aid of their newly acquired Africa Korps able to drive our forces right back to our starting point on the Egyptian Border and beyond the west of Matruh.

Then there followed in November of 1941 a new drive by the eighth army in a deperate endeavour to clear the enemy from North Africa, this time under the command of General Cunningham, but this also failed. He did however manage to reach El Agheila on the fringe of Tripolitania, but the many hundreds of miles of desert played havoc with his supplies and lines of communication. That was the chief factor affecting the deadlocking of our armies momentum and after a brief stay in Benghazi we were compelled to withdraw, forming a more convenient line running South in the desert from Gazala.
It is from here that my diary is concerned with.

Up till now my regiment has been held in the Union Training Camps for reasons, I suppose, known only to our high command. Our men were becoming agitated and the number of desertions were increasing each week. We had joined the army – for what? To fight? Or to remain fire side soldiers. In early August of 1941 it was decided to send us to reinforce our front line troops, and the 29th November saw us on board ship bound for Egypt. Here we found what we has been looking for, some poor devils never even had a chance to find it. They paid the full price for their adventure lust.
I have said I am not a strategist yet I have predicted various moves, I have said I am not a politician yet I have may various suggestions. I don’t know, they may not be logic, but however to me they are. You may call this diary my philosophy if you so desire.

W.S Hawkins