We remember Sid Sallis, our former beneficiary and late veteran of Arnhem campaign whose poem about his experiences was performed by Jeremy Irons and Sir Mike Jackson.
Corporal Sid Sallis was originally from Sussex, and he lived his final years in Seaford, near Brighton, with support from the Army Benevolent Fund.
Called up in 1942 at 18, after a spell as a driver, Sid joined the 1st Airborne Division. He missed the Normandy landings but saw action when serving as a Royal Army Service Corps Air Despatcher, flying over the Netherlands dispatching much-needed supplies to the beleaguered paras on the ground.
This was part of Operation Market Garden which launched on 17th September 1944. This was a daring attempt to secure key bridges and towns in German-occupied Netherlands. The courage of the Allied troops was undoubted, but within eight days, thousands of men were withdrawn and many more were killed or captured. Only the 2nd Parachute Battalion succeeded in holding the Arnhem bridge, reliant on parachute drops from the RAF and RASC Air Despatchers for food, water and ammunition.
One of them was Sid Sallis, 21. Sid shared his memories of being one of just two despatchers standing in the bomb bay of a Short Stirling aircraft. Flying at 300 feet, their job was to drop wicker panniers of supplies through a hole in the aircraft’s floor onto a field with trees thick with enemy soldiers.
It was incredibly dangerous work. Sid remembered: “We lost 19 men just on the first day,” he said. “I was really lucky. The Germans were all around us during the drop and although we couldn’t see them, they could see us.”
Facing anti-aircraft and small arms fire was not the only hazard. Sid said: “You couldn’t work with a parachute on, so it was one false move, and you were out! You couldn’t make it more dangerous, could you?”
Sid got back to base safely and went on to serve five years in the Army. But it was his memories of Arnhem that stayed with him, and he penned a poem about his experiences. The field that was Sid’s drop zone back in 1944 is now the site of an Air Despatch memorial and for many years, he returned there each September to honour his comrades.
In 2015, when ill-health meant Sid needed to move into residential care, his family reached out for help. The Army Benevolent Fund assisted with his care home fees and Sid’s wellbeing improved markedly. His daughter-in-law, Fiona, said: “We were really very grateful for the support that was given to Sid; it made a huge difference.”
Sid was well enough to attend the Army Benevolent Fund’s event marking Arnhem’s 75th anniversary in 2019, and to hear his poem performed in public for the first time by Jeremy Irons and others. He said it was wonderful to see such a line-up reading his work, and that: “Hearing my poem again was a fitting tribute to my fallen comrades.”
Very sadly, Sid died in September 2020, but the Army Benevolent Fund, with the support of his family, are determined his words should live on in tribute to Sid and his fallen comrades.
We are honoured to share Sid’s story and his poem memorialising the courage and sacrifice of the Airborne Division, and to remember all those who fought so valiantly, 80 years ago at the Battle of Arnhem.
Arnhem
Sid Sallis
Shadows hung o’er the field,
Before dawns early light,
The planes already loaded,
Were waiting for the flight.
Men were joking, furiously smoking,
All keyed up to go,
Some were swearing, none were caring
All were speaking low.
Then the order came to board
And the men climbed in the kites.
They made themselves quite comfortable,
Got ready for the fight.
Planes chugging, gliders tugging,
In the sky a drone,
Half in stupors, the paratroopers
Had already flown.
They flew across the land and sea,
They flew right over France,
At last they reached the dropping zone,
Now – to lead the Huns a dance.
Stupidly grinning, madly spinning,
The para’s went down to earth,
Twisting, turning, dropping burning,
The gliders hit the turf.
This no doubt was their finest hour
So take no glory from them.
The very bravest of the brave,
Were those who’d dropped at Arnhem.
On the ground all around,
The Huns were thick as flies,
And in that hell the lads fought well
And waited for supplies.
Way back in England, standing by
Were the Dakotas and Stirlings beside them,
Waiting for the word to go,
To supply the men at Arnhem.
None forlorn, they got airborne,
And soon were on their way,
They’d go to the pluck, they needed luck,
To see them through the day.
Some got through to the Arnhem boys,
And down the panniers went,
Some fell wide and some fell short,
But all were heaven sent.
Engines stalling, kites were falling,
Cowards? There were none,
Parachutes trailing, no man failing,
To get his duty done.
The “Flak” was heavy all the time,
The Hun’s guns barked below,
Some kiters were lucky, some were not,
And down in flames they’d go.
Planes were bumping, men were jumping,
Some stayed in their plane
For those now dead, let it never be said,
“Those boys died in vain.”
For three long days the boys went out,
Nervous? Yes but unafraid,
Little knowing all the time,
That history was being made.
Gay yet weary, tired and dreary
When came the order to “Stop”
Put to the test, they’d come out best,
And finished right on top.
Let’s think of those who came not back,
The tragedy of the story,
They only know the path they took,
Led only on to glory.
Another page of history written, sad and perhaps forlorn,
Bravely unsurpassed, hearts broken and torn,
Adding yet another word, courage means, airborne.