Private Anthony Adams MM
Service Number 14206002
Signals Platoon, 5th Battalion Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry
Anthony Adams was born at Drybrook, Gloucestershire on 27th July 1922. After leaving school he obtained an apprenticeship in 1936 as a carpenter with J Robbins, a local building firm. Whilst serving his apprenticeship he attended night school and in 1941 successfully obtained a job as a carpenter at the Gloster Aircraft Company. Soon after joining however, his new employers saw his potential and he became a draughtsman. His career in the aviation industry was brief. On February 19th, 1942 he was called up and eventually posted to the 5th Battalion Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry (5 DCLI). Adams was assigned to the Intelligence Section under the leadership of Captain David Willcocks.
When looking at pictures of Private Adams as a young boy and later as a serving soldier, the impression given is that of a gentle, thoughtful and intelligent person. His stature was admittedly slight, which possibly caused him some trouble in the rumbustious atmosphere of both school and the Army. The following extract taken from his diary during the war supports this narrative:
‘at a height of 5′ 3¾” I felt I must be presenting a pathetic sight to the world. I have never felt more lonely in my life.’
The museum has three diaries, oddly from even years, 1942, 1944 and 1946. Are the others lost or is superstition at play? The first impression is the amount and variety of training the soldiers went through, appearing to be very thorough and covering everything from bayonet training to technical training on the type 38 wireless set which was to have a bearing on Adams at Hoven. Private Adams was still undergoing training when the news regarding D-Day on June 6th, 1944 broke. His diary does in fact mention this ‘great day’, but more detail is relayed on the following day:
‘Completed drawings this morning. Listened to various lectures after lunch. There is still great excitement in the air and morale is very high. As a contrast, I spent a make and mend evening also did a little reading.’
It seems strange that one of the most momentous days in the Second World War is summarised between the everyday minutiae of life. On the June 16th, 1944, the 5 DCLI were preparing to sail for France and in passing, Adams states he and others ‘experienced flying bombs V1 for the first time during the night.’ The 5th embarked on June 17th and the majority of men did not disembark in Normandy until June 24th, the frustration in the diary is clear. Adams himself did not land until 20:30 hours and it wasn’t long before he experienced enemy fire for the first time at Cheux on June 27th. His only comment on this being that ‘The whole day was a frightening experience’. Whatever Adams felt about himself, his actions spoke volumes and often contradicted his self-depreciating comments.
The fighting for Hoven was a vicious encounter fought on 20th and 22nd November 1944 in which the only unit to reach the village was D Company of the 5 DCLI. In addition to the bitter contest, D Company was virtually cut off from the rest of the British force. The sense of isolation must have been tremendous, radio communication, with the type 38 set being unequal to the task, was lost with Battalion HQ and the surroundings added to the air of melancholy; the dark November days adding eeriness to the wet weather and suffocating woodland surrounding the cut off group. It was during this desperate time that Private Adams went forward through enemy occupied territory, linking up with D Company although suffering a shrapnel wound to his shoulder. Once he returned to Battalion HQ, he was able to update the Commanding Officer on the situation and, despite his wounds, offered to lead a platoon of reinforcements through to the isolated Company. With this latest task complete, he once more returned to Battalion HQ and in great pain, weakened from a severe loss of blood, finally had his wounds dressed.
For somebody who who felt they presented, ‘a pathetic sight to the world’, to cross un-reconnoitred ground held by the enemy whilst wounded, return to base to report and then, incredibly, volunteer to go out a second time to guide a platoon to the beleaguered Company, was an extraordinary feat.
I wonder; what draws someone to step up to the mark and/or to volunteer for such a hazardous task? How do we define bravery?
The theme for the remainder of 1944 seems more sedate. A word used frequently is ‘routine’. The Battle of the Bulge does not warrant a mention, nor the German surprise air attack on January 1st, 1945. Unfortunately, we do not appear to have a diary for 1945, and the hopes and thoughts of Private Adams for the momentous events of that year are unknown.
Written by Andrew Sims, Archivist at Bodmin Keep May 2021