His first assignment was in a London full of Yanks, where he acted as a liaison officer between the Americans and the British. He was billeted at the Dorchester, which the British War Office had taken over and seconded for use by the American army. William had read somewhere that Abel Ros - novski had done the same thing with the Baron in New York and he had thoroughly approved at the time. The blackouts, the doodle - bugs, and the air raid warnings all made him believe that he was involved in a war, but he felt strangely detached from what was going on only a few hundred miles from Hyde Park Corner. Throughout his life he had taken the initiative, and had never been an onlooker. Moving between Eisenhawers staff headquarters in St. James and Churchill's War Operations room in Storey's Gate wasn I t Willialn's idea of initiative. It didn't look as if he was going to meet a German face - to - face for the entire duration ef the war unless ffitler invaded Trafalgar Square.

When part of the First Army was posted to Scotland for training exercises with the Black Watch, William was sent along as an observer and told to report back with his findings. 711e long, slow journey to Scotland and back in a train that never stopped stopping made him realise that he was fast becoming a glorified messenger boy and he was beginning to wonder why he had ever signed up. Scotland, William found, was different. There at least they had the air of preparing for war and when he returned to London, he put in a request for an immediate transfer to join the First Army. His colonel, who never believed in keeping a man who wanted to see action behind a desk, released him.

Three days later William returned to Scotland to join his new regiment and begin his training with the American troops at Inveraray for the invasion they all knew had to Come soon. Training was hard and intense.

Nights spent in the Scottish hills fighting mock battles with the Black Watch made more than a slight contrast to evenings at the Dorchester writing reports.

Three months later they were parachuted into northern France to join Omar N. Bradley's army, moving across Europe. Ile scent of victory was in the air and William wanted to be the first soldier in Berlin.

T~e First Army advanced towards the Rhine, determined to cross any bridge they could find. Captain Kane received oxders that morning that his division was to advance over the Ludendorff bridge and engage the enemy a mile northeast of Remagen in a forest on the far side of the river. He stood on the crest of a hill and watched the Ninth Division cross the bridge, expecting it to be blown sky high at any moment.

His colonel led his own division in behind them He followed with the hundred and twenty men under his command, most of them, like William, going into action for the first time. No more exercises with wily Scots pretending to kill him, with blank cartridges and then a meal together afterwards. Germans, with real bullets, death - and perhaps no afterwards.

When William reached the edge of the forest, he and his men met with no resistance, so they decided to press further on into the woods. The going was slow and dull and William was beginning to think the Ninth must have - done such a thorough job that his division would only have to follow them through, when from nowhere they were suddenly ambushed by a hail of bullets and mortars. Everything seemed to be coming at them at once.

William's men went down, trying to protect themselves among the trees, but he lost over half of the platoon in a matter of seconds. The battle, if thaes what it could be called, had lasted for less than a minute, and he hadn't even seen a German. William crouched in the wet undergrowth for a few more seconds and then saw, to his horror, the next Division coming through the, forest. He ran from his shelter behind a tree to warn them of the ambush. The first bullet hit him in the head, and, as he sank to his knees in the German mud and continued to wave a fraatic warning to his advancing comrades, the second hit him in the neck and a third in the chest. He lay still in the mud and waited to die, not having even seen the enemy - a dirty, unheroic death.

The next thing William knew, he was being carried on a stretcher, but he couldn't hear or see anything and he wondered if it was night or whether he was blind.

It seemed a long journey. When his eye opened, it focused on a short fat colonel lim ping out of a tent. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn't think what. The stretcher bearers took him into the operating tent and placed him on the table. He tried to fight off sleep for fear it might be death. He slept.

William woke. He was conscious of two people trying to move him. They were turning him over as gently as they could, and then they stuck a needle into him. William dreamed of seeing Kate, and then his mother, and then Matthew playing with his son Richard. He slept.