Frank Risbridger had every reason to remember the first day of Operation Epson, the objective of which was to win control of the Normandy port city of Caen. That was the day he escaped death by six seconds after his tank was blown up.
Frank was called up in 1942 when he was just 20. He joined the 9th Royal Tank Regiment, which, at the time, was station at Eastling, near Faversham.
“We used to keep our tanks – 18 45-ton Churchills – in the woods at the top of Charing Hill, and train in Eastwell Park,” he said. “Sometimes we would go up to Scotland for gunnery practice.
“At the beginning of May we took the tanks to Aldershot, where we had to waterproof them. All the flaps and openings had to be sealed with Bostick which contained a kind of string impregnated with cordite, called corlite. Extensions were put on the exhaust pipes and air ducts which were extended over the top of the tank. We tested them in a kind of massive sheep dip with six feet depth of water in it.
“When we landed, we would have to look through periscopes to see where we were going, because the visors would be sealed shut. We wore huge headphones and a heavy microphone round our necks for communication. This was because when we landed, we would be under water.
“The tanks were loaded onto transporters and taken to Gosport where they were backed up a ramp onto the landing ship. The ship was anchored offshore for four days in rough weather. Lots of men were seasick.
“When we arrived at Sword Beach we landed in six feet of water. Once clear of that a 24-volt charge was sent through the corlite which exploded, unsealing all the openings. What struck me was, that even before D-Day someone had gone over and checked the sand to make sure it was solid enough for tanks.
“We joined up with the 7th Royal Tank Regiment and the 144th Royal Armoured Corps, all part of the 31st Armoured Brigade. At first there was just a few skirmishes, but I do remember one night seeing this glowing ball coming towards my tank. It was my first sight of an anti-tank shell. Fortunately it missed.
“It was when we reached the village of Cheux that we really came up against it. We went in with 1,000 Gordon Highlanders infantrymen and came out with only 125 of them.
“On June 26th my tank was hit by a shell from an 88mm German anti-tank gun. The crew all jumped out, but I couldn’t move. My revolver holster had a lanyard which caught on the compass balancing ball.
“Petrol inside the tank had caught fire and my trousers were alight. Eventually I managed to get myself free and I jumped out. According to the tank commander, six seconds later the tank blew up. So, I was lucky.
“But I lost a couple of good mates that day. Anti-tank shells are solid shot, not explosive. They could penetrate the vulnerable sides of a Churchill and take the driver’s leg off. That’s what happened to my two mates. The medics did what they could but there was no way they could survive.
“Just 24-hours later I got a new tank. The next major battle was Operation Jupiter which began on July 10 and went on for 30 days. The objective was to capture Hill 112, not an especially big hill, but it commanded views over much of Normandy including Caen.
“We were up against Rommel who commanded eight divisions. The plan was to keep them occupied to give an easier path for the Americans through to Paris. I drove my tank up and down that hill 29 times. Sometimes we were up against anti-tank guns, sometimes it was infantry with high explosives, sometimes it was armoured vehicles. We just pushed and pushed but eventually we took it.
“After that we went on towards Falaise and through the Falaise Gap, up by Rouen and eventually we got to l’Havre. Near there we came across a V1 Rocket site, with a missile on the ramp. (V1s, commonly known as Doodlebugs or Buzzbombs, were projected towards London and the South East of England, causing havoc in 1944.)
“We fired at it and it went up with quite a big explosion. I felt good about this because it meant people back in England would be saved from the devastating effects of at least that missile.”
The next stop was Brussels, which had been liberated. The biggest difficulty was posed by the welcoming crowds offering fruit, flowers and suchlike. “It took our 18 tanks one-and-a-half hours to cross La Grande Place,” said Frank. “Many of our tanks bore the marks of shells strikes so they knew we had been in a few battles.”
Before he could even think of going home, Frank had moved on through the Ardennes, Holland and into Germany. “We came into a town called Roosendaal. Our tank was the first one in. The town stood quite empty. I saw a curtain move in one of the houses. Then a door opened, and a man came out dressed as a monk.
“He stood in front of the tank. I was told by my commander to open the tank slowly but keep my revolver ready. The man said: ‘Are you English?’ I said: ‘Yes welcome to democracy.’ He said: ‘Thank God, thank God, thank God, I’ll let the people know.’
“People came out of the houses singing the Dutch National Anthem. They climbed onto the tank. One had a Dutch flag so big it nearly covered the tank.
“We stopped here for a three-week rest – the first rest we had had since D-Day.”