The 100-year-old Edinburgh D-Day veteran who has fought eight decades of PTSD

Cyril “Dickie” Bird, of Edinburgh, a recipient of the Military Medal and Legion D’Honneur who served with the 5th Royal Tank Regiment (5RTR), landed on Gold Beach 80 years ago on June 6, 1944.

While he retains pride in his war service, in particular his role as a Desert Rat in North Africa, he also carries the mental scars of Operation Overlord that put 175,000 allied troops on the beaches or behind enemy lines in Normandy. What dominates his mind is the fear that prevailed on that day – and his comrades who never made it home after bringing heavy weaponry into the fight to reclaim France.

He said: “I was frightened, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. We were all aware that we were part of history and I kept going for my crew. We knew what we had to do.”

After the war, Mr Bird was told by an Army doctor that he was bomb happy, which today would be diagnosed as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

In an interview with Poppyscotland, he said: “I suffer with anxiety neurosis. This was commonly called ‘being bomb scared’. I remember coming home and I would be at the cinema, or I’d be at home, and suddenly I’d be soaking wet, shaking with fear. I would think ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’ But I wasn’t the only one.”

Mr Bird was sent over the Channel after returning from North Africa where he fought with the Desert Rats at the Balle of El-Alamein in Egypt, where his skill in a Crusader tank contributed to the first Allied victory over the Germans and Italians. Then, he fought through Salerno in Italy on a posting that lasted a year and a half.

Upon his return to the UK in December 1943, 5RTR were re-equipped with Comet tanks and based in Shakers Wood in Norfolk where he helped train soldiers in the new armoury, which was taken to Normandy for the largest military amphibious assault of all time.

Mr Bird said: “We didn’t know where we were going next, but we knew that we wouldn’t be in Shakers Wood forever. There was talk of heading south to the coast to the port where vessels would depart, but the destination was all speculation.”

On June 5 and in rough weather, Mr Bird and his crew boarded a landing craft and headed for Gold Beach, near Arromanches.

He said: “We weren’t inside the tank. We were on the mess deck all the time. You only mounted the tank an hour or two before you landed. We made sure everything was working. I remember very clearly when we rolled off onto the beach. It was very frightening. But the tank worked beautifully … regrettably.

“In an operation like that, you are focused on communication. Communication with your crew, and with the squadron of tanks that you are advancing with. A fear is that our communications fail. I am proud to say that for the whole operation, our communications were immaculate.”

Mr Bird described himself and his comrades as “civilian kids with uniforms on” and became emotional as he reeled off their names.

“Harry Bragg, Vick Vale, Roger Thrope, the guys who didn’t come back. We’ve been back to their graves. They were all kids. We were all kids. We were all civilian kids with uniforms on. I don’t think I am consciously proud of what we all did, but I am still proud of being a Desert Rat. We were the best armoured fighting unit in the British Army, or any Army at that. We fought across Europe, right the way to Germany. We went all the way.”

Last week, Mr Bird joined fellow D-Day veteran John Mitchell, now 99, at Edinburgh Castle where the pair held a commemoration torch to march the 80th anniversary of Operation Overlord before passing it to a young army cadet. The two men are part of a small handful of surviving D-Day veterans from Scotland.

Mr Mitchell, now 99, of Galston, Ayrshire, who worked in the lace trade, was called up to serve in 1942, aged 18, and joined the Royal Signals as a wireless operator following training at “bitterly cold” barracks in Aberdeen.

Packed in camps in the south of England as Operation Overlord edged closer, the young signalman boarded a Landing Ship Tank (LST) that “bobbed about like a cork” because of the shallow draught. As they set off, Mr Mitchell and his fellow men were still in the dark about the task that lay ahead.

Mr Mitchell said: “When we were at sea, news came through about the landings and we knew for certain that this was not another exercise. It was the real thing. We landed on the night of D-Day plus one, on Juno Beach near Courselles. There have been many articles written about what we were to see on the beach with the noise of battle and all the bodies. I am sure that anyone who was there will have special memories of their own.”

The veteran said he believed those who landed on D-Day, those involved in Operation Overlord, would have done their best to “eradicate these memories from their minds”.

Split up from his unit on arrival, Mr Mitchell was forced to wait for hours to continue his advance into Normandy. He then witnessed the destruction of a Canadian truck when it hit a mine.

“The truck was destroyed,” he recalled. “There are some incidents that you do not forget.”