George Benham, who would have been 101 next month, served with the 7th Armoured Division. His account vividly portrays the brutal realities of war:
"I was with the 7th Armoured Division, and I vividly remember moving up a lane when a German staff car suddenly appeared, heading straight for us! In an instant, everyone opened fire. The car flipped over and crashed. What it was doing there remains a mystery to me. Later, as I passed the wreckage in a Bren Carrier, I didn't even glance at the occupants. We all knew there would be plenty more casualties in the weeks ahead.
"Then came Villers-Bocage. I was sent out with four others to patrol the immediate area. Without warning, I saw a tank unleash a shot from a farmyard. This was the signal for a devastating barrage from other tanks concealed in well-prepared positions. Our tank, trucks, and Bren Carriers, moments before part of a scene where our troops had been drinking tea with the casual air of a Sunday afternoon picnic, were instantly ablaze in the narrow, sunken lanes.
"The scene was one of utter chaos – fire, thick smoke, and relentless explosions. It was brutally clear: the Germans had been lying in wait, choosing their moment to strike with terrifying effectiveness. We later discovered that these were Panther and Tiger tanks belonging to a Waffen SS Heavy Tank Battalion. Among them was a highly decorated German tank "Ace," Michael Wittmann, a fervent supporter of the Nazi regime and a recipient of personal accolades from Adolf Hitler himself.
"A veteran of the brutal fighting on the Eastern Front, Wittmann was credited with an astonishing 119 tank kills. It was this elite battalion, led by a figure deeply embedded within the Nazi hierarchy and personally recognized by Hitler, that sprung this deadly ambush on the 7th Armoured Division on that fateful day, June 13th, 1944.
"In the ensuing mayhem and confusion, the priority shifted to destroying our equipment to prevent it from falling into enemy hands. I started by smashing our radios and ended by throwing my Bren gun into a nearby pond, but not before removing its firing pin.
"My next instinct was to find cover, which I did beneath a fallen telegraph pole. I kept as low as possible, hidden from a couple of German soldiers who were now just yards away. They were casually surveying the scene of their successful ambush from their side-car motorcycle, their heavy machine gun still at the ready.
"I could have easily taken them both out, but I knew that doing so would almost certainly lead to my capture. So, I remained still. While my immediate surroundings were relatively quiet behind the pole, the sounds of explosions and shouting orders from my Sergeant echoed from the surrounding chaos. I even witnessed the unbelievable sight of some of my platoon mates mistakenly flagging down a Tiger tank, thinking it was one of our own arriving to help!
"Shortly after this blunder, word must have reached HQ. The area suddenly came under heavy bombing by British and American aircraft. Seizing the opportunity amidst the renewed chaos, I and a couple of mates who had also been hiding made a break for it and managed to escape.
"After two days of continuous walking, we finally found a place to get a night's sleep – a truly blessed relief. However, our respite was short-lived. We awoke to find ourselves completely surrounded by German troops and trucks – hundreds of them! We had clearly walked in the wrong direction and were now well behind enemy lines.
"Foolishly, I tried to make another escape attempt, but a large German sentry spotted me from about 100 yards and opened fire. The bullets ripped into the ground just in front of me. At that point, the wisdom of standing still became very clear! I distinctly remember raising my hands and, for some inexplicable reason, shouting "Mum, Mum, Mum!" A purely maternal reflex, I suppose, just like when you were a kid and got hurt.
"Before searching me, the sentry gestured menacingly with his gun. I became even more terrified than I already was! Then, suddenly, it dawned on me. He wanted me to discard what I was holding. To him, it probably looked like a grenade, but all it was, ironically, was a rolled-up pair of gloves!
"Anyway, my part in the fighting ended right there and then. I spent the next eleven months as a Prisoner of War in various Stalag and work camps in South-East Germany. I suppose it is something to be able to say now that I fought in the Normandy invasion, but it certainly didn't feel like much of a choice at the time! But then, that was the same for everyone – the luck of the draw, so to speak. You just got on with it, no matter where you were or who you were."
George Benham 1924 - 1997
His granddaughter, Sophia, shared her profound pride: "This is My Grandad, My Pop, George Benham's true story of events in WW2 he would have been 101 next month, a prisoner of war in the Normandy invasion, Brave, heroic and has clearly embedded courage, a fighting spirit and strength into our family, feeling very, very proud."
My Pop's story serves as a powerful reminder of the courage and resilience displayed by ordinary men in extraordinary circumstances, and the enduring legacy of their sacrifice.
His granddaughter, Sophia Benham, aged 50, reflects on his bravery and the lasting impact of his experiences.
I will continue to share his story so others get to hear about him and the efforts soldiers like himself made during WW2,
It's important for our future generations to remember and its an important part of our history too.