Further to the R.E.M.E Sergeant story, I left the workshops area and set off in what I believed to be the direction in which I would find my unit. Before I had covered many miles, the daylight began to fade and the fuel gauge with it! After travelling for some distance along a tree-lined road I saw the town name Warendorf. I noticed, at the same time, flames lighting up the sky not far ahead. Soon I entered the town, to find military vehicles everywhere and bonfires burning in the streets. There was noise and smoke all around with soldiers milling about. No-one took any notice of me, which was just as well, because I recognised the maple-leaf insignia on the vehicles. Bloody hell! Canadians! The enemy! I kept my head, and very quietly turned the Champ round, before going like a bat out of hell in the direction I had come. I met a column of Canadian armour and trucks coming towards me, dozens of them. I just pressed on as quickly, but unobtrusively as I could and found my way, by great good fortune back towards friendly territory. Well, that’s avoided trouble in that area, but I was still pretty much lost and the fuel gauge was sinking inexorably towards the big “E”!
It was now quite late, probably 10.30pm and I remember the thought passing through my mind:”What am I doing here? I’m eighteen years old, swanning around in the middle of a foreign country, no idea where I am, no fuel in the tank, haven’t eaten for hours and I’m cold and fed up!”. Then I noticed a small green sign on a tree with “63” in white lettering. My unit’s number. Ahaa, simple now, just follow these signs to our camp area. After just a couple of miles I recognised a track leading off at 45° to the right. Got it! Soon be back now! I drove confidently down this track, into woodland, but then realised they were not where I expected them to be! Retraced my tracks back to the road and try again. Recognised the track again, drove down looking for side tracks I might have missed. Nothing! Did it all a third time with no success! I KNEW they were here. They must have moved while I was away. Going back once more I saw signs saying “60” which I knew to be Brigade H.Q. I decided to go there for instructions. I found a military caravan with radio equipment and “brass” everywhere. Spoke to a sergeant, who told me my unit had not moved and that I should go back to the road and follow the “63” signs. “OK” I thought, “but this is what I’ve been doing!” So, I followed the signs until I was approaching the track to the right which I had recognised before. Then I noticed the “63” sign pointing straight on! I carried on along the road and suddenly there was another sign pointing off to the right. And there was the track I had been looking for! A dead ringer for the one just up the road! Home at last! I pulled into the camp area just as the fuel truck was starting up to leave. I managed to stop him and get my full jerry cans. Now to refuel myself, which I did from the field kitchen. The next thing was to find a place to kip, and a lovely hay-barn was just the job. The next thing I remembered was waking up in full daylight. As I stirred our corporal came over, “Are you feeling better now?” he asked. “What about stand-to?” I enquired, knowing I should have been up at dawn to man the perimeter, along with all the others. “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Nobody else knew you were here, so I just let you sleep”. What a good bloke. I certainly needed it!