Tull | Ronald
Biography
Ronald Tull (Service Number 14601169) was killed in action on 15 October 1944. He was 31 years old and a soldier in the 1st Battalion of the Royal Norfolk Regiment. He was initially buried in the cemetery on Venrayseweg in Overloon and later reburied on 17 May 1947 in grave III. B. 11 at Overloon War Cemetery. His grave bears the inscription: “Always remembered, By his wife & baby Margaret, Mum and dad, Cyril, Glad. and Harold”.
Family background
Ronald was born on 26 May 1913 in Alverstone, Hampshire. His parents were Albert Edward Tull (1881–1954) and Lillian Mary Day (1882–1960).
He had two brothers, Cyril Albert (1908-1984) and Harold, and a sister, Gladys Lillian M. (1910-1981). In 1911, they lived at Lynwood, 22 Mortimer Rd, Brockhurst, Gosport, Hants.
In 1942, Ronald married Lena Ruby Henrietta Sawyer in Dorchester, Dorset. In 1944, his daughter Margaret was born, whom he sadly never met.
Margaret married Richard J Lymer in 1966 in Gosport, Hampshire. They had two children: Stephen Richard Lymer, born in 1967 in Portsmouth, and Kerry Lorraine Lymer, born in 1970 in Portsmouth.
Military career
It is not known yet when Ronald joined the 1st Battalion of the Royal Norfolk Regiment, but it was probably in 1941.
The battalion landed on Sword Beach in Normandy on D-Day (6 June 1944). It was deployed in operations in Normandy throughout June, July and August before being given a longer period of rest in Tinchebray from 17 August, where it also received reinforcements to replace the many dead and wounded.
In September, they marched through France and Belgium and reached Helmond in the Netherlands on 25 September. Here they were greeted by an exuberant crowd, while they were still fighting the enemy. B Company was assigned the task of defending the eastern side of Helmond after being informed by higher authorities that the Germans would launch a counterattack that night. They were very concerned about their location and combat positions, fields of fire, etc.
Lt. GDH Dicks MC of B Coy later told his story. He recalls, after checking the accommodation for the platoon:
“ I turned to leave the house. I was immediately attacked by approximately 50 nurses who insisted that I come with them to the hospital opposite to give the inmates their first view of liberation. I had no option -in spite of the preoccupation of my mind – I was hauled across the road by each arm by a couple of lusty Dutch nurses, followed by at least eight of the lads being meted out with the same pleasant treatment. The scene inside the hospital of patients waving white and feeble hands at a dirty, begrimed, equipped and armed British subaltern would have been fit for any academician.
At last I made my escape and then had to sort out the others who had been hauled inside. I have often thought since about that bunch of boys – how happy they were at that moment. Cariello (killed March 1), Halls (killed October 14), Gorbell (killed October 14), McMorrine (wounded October 14), Taylor (wounded October 16).”
They left Helmond on 29 September, crossed the Meuse at Grave, and travelled via Heumen to the Maldens Vlak on 1 October. They remained there until 11 October, after which they moved to Cuijk and then to St Anthonis and Oploo on 12 October.
The Allied advance had been halted at Arnhem, but in the east, in the area up to the Meuse River, there was still considerable resistance, and the plan was to move south in October 1944 to clear the area up to Venray. Overloon, which lies north of Venray, was captured on 13 October and the 1st Battalion of the Norfolk Regiment spent the night of the 13th in the woods around Overloon. The plan was to move south towards Venray on the 14th, but to do so they had to cross a stream called the Molenbeek. However, the enemy had a clear view of the British troops over a distance of 1,000 metres when they left the cover of the forest.
In May 1945, Lt. GDH Dicks MC wrote a personal account of his experiences that day while recovering from injuries he sustained in March 1945.
“Next morning, 14 October 1944, we received our orders for the attack. B Company was to be one of the two forward companies having the thankless task of first bumping and locating the enemy. Friar [Lt. D.B. Balsom] was given the task of being the leading platoon with Company HQ next, then my platoon, then Ray’s [Lt. R. S. Hilton] platoon. Ray and I would travel with Company HQ.
Inevitably, we soon came under fire from the German lines and Friar’s platoon suffered casualties. Everybody took to the deep ditches either side of the road and crawled forward cautiously. I have a constitutional aversion to crawling, so very soon I began to shuffle along using my hands and feet, with my knees off the ground. Result – one bullet through my haversack. I subsided for a time but soon my constitution overcame my caution and once more I raised my body. Result – another bullet through my haversack. I did not risk a third chance. Eric [Major, E.A. Cooper-Key MC, OC B Coy] and his batman soon after rose and did a spirited dash forward to Friar to get information and then called us up to receive orders for the assault.
The plan was for Friar to remain where he was and by fire to keep the Germans’ heads down. Ray and I were to form up on each side of the road – Ray on the right and I on the left.
I formed up behind a ramshackle farm-house and then moved out into the open on the left of the road with two sections in line as per battle drill with about 5 yards between each man. I felt as naked as the day I was born.
We moved forward at a walking pace with the Churchill tank rumbling along behind. A Spandau opened up and I saw the tracer bullets go through our ranks and a figure fall. It was Halls, 8 Section Bren gunner – shot (as I afterwards learnt) through the heart. He was on the extreme left of the section, and the fire had come, I noticed, from a projecting copse on our left front. The sections had automatically gone to ground. Cpl. Smith recovered the Bren gun from the body of the dead soldier; and L/Cpl. Grimble, the other Bren gunner in the forward sections, was blazing away merrily although I feel he only had a vague idea in which direction the Spandau lay.
Rather than waste time telling him the exact position, I doubled over to Eric and indicated the area to him, information which he immediately passed on to the tank commander who gave the wood a liberal burst from his Besa. Eric also ordered me to keep my platoon where they were while he ordered Friar to pass through me with supporting fire from my Brens. Our initial objective was a cross road which had the code name ‘Cartwright’. Friar had gone to ground about 150 yards in front of me, so Eric ordered my platoon to move forward once again to pass through Friar and achieve ‘Cartwright’. However, as I approached Friar, he yelled that he had reached ‘Cartwright’, and I therefore ordered my men to ground about 70 yards short of him and reported back to Eric.
It was now about 10:30 AM and we had achieved our objective. My casualties up to that point had been one killed (Halls), one wounded (Hart – shrapnel in the forehead) and one bomb-happy (a soldier who, rather surprisingly, had broken down when we first came under fire).
I suddenly became aware that there was a German tank about 300 yards down the road near a blazing farmhouse, and that it had been responsible already for knocking out three Churchills which were littered untidily over the landscape. At this stage Sgt. Parker became a little bored with ditches and decided to sit upright to see what was happening in the world. He immediately received two bullets for his pains, one in the side and one in the shoulder, a third just chipping the rim of Harry Blowing’s tin-hat. Even this did not disturb his tranquillity – he casually collected his haversack which he had taken off and walked off down the road in full view of the enemy in search of the RAP.
Artillery fire began to increase and the cursed nebelwerfer opened up frequently and dropped clusters of shells in our vicinity in between ferocious displays by the German tank. Our troubles were increased by our own artillery who were trying to eliminate the tank. Running true to form some of their shells were falling short or hitting the tops of trees just in front of our position, with the inevitable result that casualties occurred to our own troops.
I began to look forward rather eagerly to the hours of darkness, but the day seemed interminable. About 5pm, Gorbell in 8 section decided to leave his trench to urinate. As he crawled back, he received a sniper’s bullet in the back – and he died within a minute. His last words were characteristic. ‘The bastards have got me’”.
A total of eleven men from the Royal Norfolk’s were killed that day. The battalion managed to cross the Molenbeek on 16 October and Venray was captured on the 18th. Between 13 and 18 October, the battalion suffered 43 fatalities and nearly 200 wounded, and Overloon and Venray were severely damaged.
Sadly, Ronald Tull was also killed on 15 October. He was buried together with many of his comrades on Venrayseweg in Overloon and later reburied on 14 May 1947 at Overloon War Cemetery in grave III. B. 7.
Letters from Ronald, Captain Mercer and adoptive father of the grave
In August 1944, Ronald wrote a letter to his brother Cyril describing the conditions in which he had been fighting over the past few months. On 30 October 1944, his Captain J. Mercer wrote a letter of condolence to Lena, Ronald’s wife. In February 1948, Lena received a letter from Mathy’s Brothers, who had adopted Ronald’s grave.
The letters can be read below.
Letter from Ronald to his brother Cyril
Letter from Captain Mercer
Letter from adoptant Mathy’s Broeren
Family pictures
