Excerpt of George Hero Deserter Lover on 74th Anniversary of the battles for Cassino...The men continued the gruelling climb for several hours

The men continued the gruelling climb for several hours and eventually made it to the New Zealanders, who were beyond pleased to see them. They were dug in, if you could call it that, lying in scrapes that they were confined to for most of the daylight hours or be picked off by snipers. The scrapes were just enough to hide them from snipers and they were achieved by hours of scraping with shovels and picks, grating on the rocky terrain. It was hard to make them comfortable, despite the hours of work to ensure some measure of cover. His men were gathered around in similar scrapes, and he explained that they had been cut off after an offensive against the German position. He spoke emotionally about the lack of reinforcements.

“We could have bloody kicked their arses if we had been reinforced. We have lost a lot of men on this hillside. About two thirds of the men who came up here are either dead or wounded. What is the bloody matter with the top brass?

“Excuse my men,” said the captain. “They haven’t eaten for two days. Oh and by the way, I am Captain Dylan Sheerin; mustn’t forget my manners, even in these conditions.” Trying to be as magnanimous as possible, Braithwaite mumbled, “That’s quite alright, Sir. I am Lieutenant Braithwaite, and what are your orders?” Appreciating that he was junior to the captain in both experience and rank, he would need to gain the other’s approval of their next action. Braithwaite had been told to find and distribute the provisions to as many men as he could; they were not sure if the New Zealanders would even be a fighting force any longer. 

“There are men further up the mountain that will need provisioning, and as to what state they are in, I can only hazard a guess. They will be a disparate and probably desperate bunch by now and quite a mixed bag of both nationalities and regiments. Rest up for now; it’s becoming light and we don’t want you picked off like flies.”

One mountain pool just below the monastery was ringed with dead bodies of soldiers from both sides whose thirst got the better of their common sense. Under cover snipers from both sides waited for the next man to risk a drink. (Reprinted by kind permission of Matthew Parker)