A POLISHED brass cylinder stands in Albert Figg's sun-lounge. "That's the charge case from the first shell I ever fired in anger," said Albert, who had joined the 112 Field Regiment Royal Artillery eight months before war was declared.

It was a Territorial Army regiment, but dug into a wood at the top of Westbere Hill, near Canterbury in 1940, Albert, newly promoted to Sergeant, had no thoughts of being a part-time soldier. He and his men were expecting an invasion at any moment.

"All we had was five rounds for every gun and one rifle for every two men," he said.

Fortunately the invasion never occurred, and by May 1944, the regiment was in Eastbourne, waterproofing the 25-pounder guns and the Quads that pulled them.

A month later they were under canvas near Tilbury. "But on the day they were due to load our ammunition the dockers went on strike," he said. "They wanted danger money."

By June 20 the ship that had taken the regiment down Channel was anchored off Normandy, but the troops could not land for four days because of a raging storm.

"Eventually we got into an American landing craft and a marine came up and said: ‘Hello Sarge, what kind of ice cream would you like?'" he said. "No sooner had he arrived with a plate of vanilla than the door went down and we had to go ashore.

"I had to go ahead of the Quad in case there were any mines. You were expendable, the guns were not."

Next day his battery went into action.

"It was at Bayeux Railway Station that I came across the only tank I saw during the invasion," said Albert. "It was stationary, the driver was at the controls with his webbing and glasses still on, but he was dead.

"The tank hadn't been hit. I think he might have died of shock or something."

Albert might have died of shock himself. He left his gun to use the field latrines, nothing more than a trench with a bar fixed in front of it to sit on.

"I heard this whining sound and then a massive explosion. It was a ‘moaning minnie'. Then I heard a second one. That was it. I ran back to the guns with my trousers still around my ankles.

"One of the gunners called out: ‘Turn round Sarge, if we can't hit ‘em perhaps you can. 

Albert's guns supported infantry during the Battle for Hill 112 code-named Operation Jupiter. "In 18 days we fired 60,000 shells out of 24 guns onto that hill," he said. "I reckon there were 1,000 tons of high explosive going onto the Hill every day."

Eventually the Allies broke the German lines and Albert's guns were among the convoy attempting to relieve troops from Arnhem. 

"I remember we stopped by a little church and I could hear someone shouting: "Deutsche kaput, Deutsche kaput," he said. "Then along came a horse and cart driven by a Dutchman calling: ‘Deutsche kaput'. The cart was full of dead Jerries. It went into the churchyard, where a trench had already been dug, backed up and tipped all the dead bodies into it."

Albert's last action during the European war was near Bremerhaven, where, inexplicably, the guns had gone ahead of the infantry. "All of a sudden the Germans started firing airburst shells above us, getting lower and lower, with shrapnel hitting the guns and burning the grass.

"It turned out we were expecting a tank attack. Our job was to knock out the tanks to give the infantry freedom of movement. But the tanks never arrived."