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D Shine . British Army D Shine served with the British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Denis Patrick Shine . British Army 5th Inniskilling Dragoon Guards
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Sid Shiner . Army The Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders
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Pte. Walter Daniel Shinnick . British Army 6th Btn. Queens Own Royal West Kent Rgt (d.20th February 1940) Walter died in hospital at Schildburg.
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A Shinwell . British Army Royal Armoured Corps A Shinwell served with the Royal Armoured Corps British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Sgt. Charles Lesley Shipley . British Army 1st Btn. Coldstream Guards from Driffield, East Yorkshire (d.8th Apr 1945)
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F/Sgt. Howard Piper Shipley . Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve No. 58 Squadron Royal Air Force from Walsall, Staffordshire (d.15th Jan 1941) Sergeant (Pilot) Shipley was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Shipley, and stepson of Kate E. Shipley, of Walsall, Staffordshire.
He was 24 when he was killed and is buried in the Alkmaar General Cemetery, Noord-Holland, Netherlands.
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RC Shipley . British Army RC Shipley served with the British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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RW Shipley . British Army Sherwood Foresters RW Shipley served with the Sherwood Foresters British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Pte. Thomas George Shipley . British Army Queens Own Cameron Highlanders from Glasgow My late Uncle Thomas George Shipley served with The Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders. He was captured by the Germans and sent to Marienburg Stalag XXB
His POW number 3960. He was originally from Glasgow. Does anyone have any information about him?
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Flt.Sgt Edward A. Shipman . Royal Air Force 41 Squadron
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Pte. George Shipman . British Army 1st Btn. York and Lancaster Regiment from Sheffield (d.16th Jul 1943)
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John Shipman . Royal Air Force 41 Squadron My father, John Shipman, flew Spitfires from Catterick in 41 Squadron. His personal recollections are recorded in his book "One of the Few"
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Sgt. Les Shipp . British Army No. 2 Troop No. 1. Commando I am enquiring on behalf of my son-in-law about his father who he has only recently learned about. He is Sgt. Les Shipp, No.1 Commando, No.2 Troop. If anyone has any recollections of him or any photographs, he would be very grateful.
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PW Shipp . British Army East Surrey Regiment PW Shipp served with the East Surrey Regiment British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Flt.Sgt. Percy Shipperbottom . Royal Air Force Launch 102 Air Sea Rescue Services from Bolton Percy Shipperbottom was my father who served on Air Sea Rescue launches as a radio operator, initially operating out of Ramsgate on launch 120. Then in early 1943, he was posted to Calcultta/Rangoon and travelled on the Strathenden from Liverpool (I think) to Bombay via Freetown and Durban. Apparently he was 'volunteered' to take a shift at the wireless set, as he tells in the following story:
At lunch time an RAF officer came round asking for wireless operators to make themselves known. When he got to our table he asked, ‘Has anyone here any experience of working with the Navy?’ ‘Yes sir, I have’, I answered. ‘What experience have you had?’ ‘Air Sea Rescue, Sir, based at Ramsgate on a Naval Base’. ‘Good, follow me’. So I followed him, wondering what the hell I had let myself in for.
He took me up to the Holy of Holies on the ship, The Bridge. The officer approached a Merchant Navy Officer and said, 'I think I have found you someone who should be suitable, and ex Air Sea Rescue wireless operator’. The Merchant Navy Officer gave me an Aldis Lamp and pointing to a ship nearby said, ‘Call the ship, say ‘Dimpy fourth column two’. I looked at him, ‘D-I-M-P-Y?’, I asked. ‘Good lad, correct spelling is ‘D-J-Y-M-P-I’. It’s a Polish ship’. I called the ship and the message was accepted. The Merchant Navy officer turned to the RAF officer and said, ‘This chap will do fine, he has good speed’. The RAF officer then left.
The Merchant Navy officer then outlined my duties and my watches and hours. He told me the Stratheden would be the convoy commander during the voyage and all orders and signals would emanate to and from it.
The following morning the huge convoy put to sea, we went round the North of Ireland and went far out into the Atlantic, I thought we must be heading for America but then the convoy turned South on what was known as a ‘zig-zag’ course. At regular intervals, at a signal from the Stratheden, the whole convoy would change course. This course change signal was sent by a series of flags, hooked on a line and then run up for the rest of the convoy to see.
Although I was never trained on flags in the RAF, I became quite adept at running these flags up and reading the signal flags on the other ships, but my main form of signaling was with the ten-inch Aldis Lamp. The plus side to my signaling duties meant that I was excused from ‘bullshit fatigues’, which consisted of scrubbing and polishing anything and everything to keep the men occupied.
The Atlantic can be very rough, especially in winter. Most of the troops were not used to rough seas and suffered from seasickness, but this didn’t bother me after my service on the Air Sea Rescue launches. There were twelve men on our mess table, and for nearly a week I could have had twelve meals at every sitting because I was the only one who eagerly looked forward to mealtimes.
We eventually made a mostly southerly course, and when we eventually sailed into warmer climes lots of the lads tried to 'get their knees brown' and spent a lot of time sun-bathing. This meant a lot were reporting sick through sunburn (in those days people usually did not travel abroad and therefore had no idea how strong the sun can be). After nearly a week of this an order was posted up that henceforth anyone reporting sick through sunburn would be put on a charge, for 'self-inflicted injury'.
Our 'tropical wear' must have been relics of the Indian Mutiny. We looked like a lot of comic opera soldiers, but it was all we had and we had to wear it. As the weather became hotter, especially at night, it became fairly uncomfortable below decks so I would take my blanket up to the gun turret on the bridge and sleep there.
Our first port of call was Freetown, West Africa but no one was allowed ashore except for the necessary officers to arrange replenishments for the convoy. So for about a week we sweated it out there whilst little boats chugged back and forth with an assortment of supplies. Then onwards we sailed, no incidents apart from a submarine scare, but thank goodness nothing more.
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RH Shipsey . British Army RH Shipsey served with the British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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TW Shipsey . British Army Royal Tank Regiment TW Shipsey served with the Royal Tank Regiment British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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CH Shipston . British Army CH Shipston served with the British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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II Shipton . British Army II Shipton served with the British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Sgt. Norman Marshal "Lefty" Shires . Royal Air Force 617 Squadron from Bexhill-on-Sea Norman Shires was born in 1925 in Yorkshire and moved south when still a child. He joined the RAF in 1943 and trained in Canada as a bomb aimer and gunner. He took part in a number of operations towards the end of WW2. He married Valerie who he met when she was in the WAAF, tuning the radios on the Lancasters and they had one child, Susan who became my wife in 1970. He died in 1986 and Valerie moved north to Lancashire to be near her daughter. She left her home and went into a care home in 1995.
I can only imagine that Norman got his nickname because of the prevailing westerly winds which kept blowing the Lancaster to the right?
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L/Cpl. Clifford Roland Shirley . South African Army Cape Town Rifles (Dukes) from Sea Point
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LAC. Edward Walter Shirley . Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm (d.27th March 1943) Edward Shirley attended Maidstone Grammar School. He served as a Leading Air Fitter and is named on the Lee-on Solent Memorial, Hampshire.
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Sgt. Francis William Shirley . Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve 619 Squadron from Kilkenny, Republic of Ireland (d.9th Jun 1943)
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Cpl. John Henry Shirley . British Army 6th Battalion Lincolnshire Regiment from Wrexham, Denbighshire (d.11th September 1944) John Shirley is buried in the Coriano Ridge War Cemetery in Italy.
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2Lt. Milton J Shirley . United States Army Air Forces Air Transport Command from Huron, OH (d.3rd March 1945) Milton Shirley died in a mid-air collision.
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NG Shirley . British Army Royal Armoured Corps NG Shirley served with the Royal Armoured Corps British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: Unfortunately The Wartime Memories Project has lost touch with Dan, his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Spr. Stanley Douglas Shirley . British Army Royal Engineers from Birmingham Blowing Up a Bridge, an account of an attempt to hinder the advancing German army May !940, written by Stan Shirley
Password Bonzo:
The night was dark, moonless and starless. It was late May 1940. I
did not know the date or the day of the week. Time no longer
meant anything. I was in a complete daze but I knew it was not a
dream for I was not asleep. I had not slept for days. I no longer
seemed to need sleep, or food for that matter. My senses were
very drugged and I had become an automaton.
I did not know where we were but vaguely thought we were
somewhere near Nieuwpoort, Belgium, for I had seen the name on
signposts. I knew we were in retreat but fondly imagined
we were falling back on the line of pill-boxes we had constructed
along the Franco-Belgium frontier as an extension of the
impregnable Maginot line. I refused to believe the rumours that
German Armoured Division had broken through in the Sedon
between our line of pill-boxes and the Maginot Line and had
taken Arras and were pressing to the coast. If this was so I felt
confident that it was grossly exaggerated and that the German
infiltration would be cut off, starved of ammunition, and be forced
to surrender or we wiped out.
Although as a qualified accountant I was in a reserved occupation and as such was not liable for call-up, I in common with a hundred thousand other young men, had joined the Territorial Army in August 1939, as a protest against the policy of appeasement and to show Hitler that he
could go no further unopposed. Even if the Government was
weak, the will of the people was strong. Hitler could no longer
count on the mailed fist and sabre rattling to swallow up another
country while Britain stood protesting ineffectually on one side.
Before I had time to attend a single drill-night, I was mobilised
and a full-time soldier, a sapper in a Territorial Field Company R.E.
Due to the enlistment of the over-eighteens in the territorial
Army, the T.A.
was full and a second line was formed so it was fate which sent
me, virtually untrained, into a front line field company which was
only two men under strength.
It was the fate that decreed that of the three Royal Engineers
Field Companies in the Territorial 48th (South Midlands) Division, it was my
company that was chosen to be exchanged for a regular Royal
Engineers Company in the Fourth division, to blend experience
and training of the regulars with the inexperience and freshness
of the Territorials.
Having spent all my time acting as a clerk and store man with the
HQ section of the company which had been feverishly building
concrete pill-boxes on the Belgium frontier, I was now standing
still, still untrained in a small group consisting of seven sappers
and our section sergeant listening to a debriefing from a young
French liason officer, who I had never seen before.
Strange, I thought, this was the first time I had been told what we
were going to do and it was from a Frenchman. I wondered if he
really was a Frenchman or whether he was one of the many fifth columnist
who had infiltrated our lines and caused so much
confusion. It would be an easy matter to do, Sergeant Kingham
was the dumbest person I knew. Promotion in the T.A. was on a
time basis and lack of imagination was no hinderance to
promotion.
In fact, it was an asset for I was always being told
You're not here to think but to do as you're told.
The Frenchman was saying, in perfect English:-
This is as far as we can go by truck, some way ahead there is a
bridge which is still standing. There is no road across it, for it is
used by cattle and farm carts but it is still possible that tanks
could cross it. As far as we know the Germans are still on the
other side. The bridge is concrete and brick so gun cotton and
primer is no good. You will have to drill holes and lay charges of
dynamite and detonate. You therefore have the ouger(?)
equipment as well as your rifles and bren-gun and the Boyes antitank
gun to carry. You must work as quickly as possible. If you
are not back by midnight a little less than two hours away, you
will be met on your return by fire without challenge. If things go
wrong and you are fragmented, the survivors will make for the
coast. Questions?
There was a short silence and when it appeared that no one else
was going to ask the obvious, I piped up
Yes sir, in which direction is the coast?
The Frenchman waved vaguely with his arms, it was so dark you
could sense rather than see his hand point over our heads....
That way-towards the west. -
And on reaching the coast, what then Sir?
I asked the question with my tongue in my cheek, expecting a
sarcastic reply, advising me to go jump in the sea or the like but
he answered quietly and deliberately, Make your way south to
Dunkirk.
With that remark we realised the truth of the rumours.
Rotterdam had been blitzed, Holland was over-run, Belgium had
capitulated, the Germans were advancing on Calais. The British
Expeditionary Force was cut off and for several days troops had
been embarking from Dunkirk. We were part of the perimeter
fanning out north and east of Dunkirk. I wondered of what we
consisted. Whether it was the whole of the 4th Division or
whether the 3rd was still with us or perhaps there was only our
brigade left.
My thoughts were cut short by Sergeant Kingham telling Sapper
Williams and myself to bring the drilling gear-the heaviest load. I
could almost hear the unspoken words: That will teach you to
ask questions.
It was a wooden box about four feet long and a foot wide and
one foot deep, with thick rope handles at each end. We started
off and were very soon challenged by an unseen sentry.
Halt who goes there? -
R.E. going forward to blow up a bridge. -
What is the password? -
Bonzo - Pass Bonzo and if you are not back by midnight, don't come
back.
I wondered on this for a moment then realised that it confirmed
the Frenchmen's briefing, that anyone approaching after midnight
would be treated as enemy and fired upon without warning.
The first part of the journey was along a single-track railway line
and Williams and I considerable difficulty in walking abreast, if one
was on top o the track the other half was down the bank. It was
still and the railway must have taken a pounding. We stumbled
over sleepers, twisted rails, wires for signals, wires for altering
points and got entangled in telephone wires. It was a nightmare of
a journey, we often crashed to the ground dragging the box and
the other one with us, we could not pause for a breath or to
rest. In addition to the box we had our packs on our backs and
rifles slung over our shoulders. We stumbled on, bringing up at
the rear, fearful lest we lost touch with the rest of the party. After
what seemed an eternity, we left the railway line and went across
fields, Some were ploughed but this was easy after the railway
line. After a time we joined the main party which had halted and
received the whispered warning that we were nearing the bridge
and we must be absolutely silent. We edged slowly forward in
the dark and then another halt was called.
Apparently were very near the bridge and two were going
forward on a recce to see if it was held by the Germans. They
came back to say that it appeared to be clear. We got up to the
bridge and worked feverishly. Within an hour we had grouted
out three ouger-holes strategically placed, laid the charge and
wired all three to the detonator. We retreated to a safe distance
behind the detonator, packed our gear and called back the bren gunner
and anti-tank gunner. Sergeant Kingman depressed the
plunger as we lay face downwards. Hardly had the detonation
died down or the rubble and dust settled before we were out on
our feet running for the bridge to see if it was successful.There
was no longer any point in maintaining silence.The explosion
would have been heard for miles around.
The moon was rising too, and with the help of its glimmering light
we stood amid the rubble, looking at what was once a bridge. It
was not a bad job and Kingham, had gone up in my estimation by
leaps and bounds during the last hour, said -
Good work lads, no Gerry tank will get over that, now lets get
out of here before all hells let loose.
We collected the detonator and started back at a fair old rate,
with someone else carrying the box which was somewhat lighter
this time. We had not gone far when the heavens opened up. I
plunged myself to the ground, trying to press myself into the
earth. As soon as there was a pause in the shelling, I leapt to my
feet and dashed forward, trying to get away from the area of the
the bridge. As soon as Gerry opened up again, I threw myself to
the ground again. This was instinctive action for I had received no
training. As soon as there was a pause I dashed forward again.
This I did several times until at last the shelling was not resumed.
I then looked round for my companions. There was no one about.
I listened and could hear nothing. A great sense of loneliness
descended on me.
I stood still for a while, looking intensively into the night and
straining to hear the slightest sound which would locate the
party. The silence was shattering. I supposed when I had lain on
the ground during the shelling, the rest must have continued on
and be far ahead. It was no good standing there so I set off
hoping I was walking in the right direction.
The French Officers words came back to me. If lost make for the
coast, its to the west. The main thing was to go west for this must
be way from Gerry. Then supposing I came to our mob, I should
be shot down unless I could get there before midnight. What had
the patrolling sentry said:
Pass Bonzo, if you are not back by midnight don't come back.
I was between German and our own. The full significance and the
loneliness being in No-Man's Land dawned on me. I set off at a jog
trot trying to make the midnight dead-line. I knew my best
chance was to strike the railway line and turn right along it. Then
by the faint light of the moon I saw it. Not the railway line but a
road I knew then that I was hopelessly lost.
I crawled on my belly to the road so as not to expose myself to
fire and as I lay looking down the bank at the road, my mind
suddenly flashed back to a wintery afternoon at school ten years
before.
It was games afternoon, but as the ground was too frozen for
Rugby, we had been sent on a cross country run, on that
occasion in the form of hare and hounds. By the time some
woods were reached the chase was well strung out and I lost the
trail in the woods. I did not worry, it was only a form of
exercise, there were no house points at stake or anything like
that, so I only needed to find the road that skirted the woods and
run the three or four miles back to school. I very soon reached
the egde of the wood and the road. I went charging down the
bank on to it, but it was not a road, it was a frozen canal! To the
sounds of ominous cracking and the amazed stare of a man on
the tow-path opposite, I gingerly and carefully made my way back
to the bank and safety.
As I thought of this, I crawled head first down the bank, but
instead of a road and my fingers touched water. I was back at the
canal. I had run in a circle!
When I was far enough to be out of earshot of those on the
other side, and tried to walk steadily forward trying not to
deviate to the right or the left. I tried to determine something on
the dim skyline and walk straight for it so that I didn't go in
circles.
I had made good progress when I heard a metallic clink of small
arms coming my way. I dropped cautiously to the ground and saw
a patrol pass within a few feet of me.
Although they were so near I could not make out who and what
they were but assumed it must be a German group for it was
obvious that ours was the only allied working party out because
of the nearness of the deadline. I thought I would follow them at
a distance when I heard the rather thin voice of Charley Moore
saying
- Christ this bloody box weighs a ton. I came up behind him and
said - Here Charley, let me give you a hand. He said - Thanks
mate relinquishing the handle and fell behind. A little later
stumbling along the railway line, which an hour earlier I had been
cursing. None knew that I had not been with them all the time!
Then the challenge:
Halt who goes there -
R.E.s returning from bridge demolition -
What is the password? -
Bonzo -
Advance Bonzo and be recognised. -
Pass Bonzo. Did you manage it mate? -
Sure -
Thanks a lot!
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Sqn. Ldr. A. C. Shirreff . RAF 19 Sqd. My father - Sqn Ldr AC Shirreff was with 19 squadron aa RAF Peterhead during the war, flying Mustangs to Norway. He has many pictures and logbook entries. He has also been contacted recently by a Norwegian gentleman who is researching the exploits of the pilots that flew to Norway from Peterhead and Banff during WW2.
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W. Shirvell . Royal Canadian Air Force 419 Sqd.
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