A DIARY penned by an RAF corporal serving in Italy during the Second World War is one of the pieces of history being preserved by Padiham Archives Group.

It was written by Fred Clarke, who was born in Burnley in 1912 and served with the air force in North Africa, Italy and Austria from 1941 to 1946.

And it details his days in Italy, during 1944, as Allied Forces advanced on Rome and he longed for home and Edna – “the best wife in the world”.

During that 12 months, Fred guarded the various airstrips in rain, snow, mud and sun, as crews took off daily in their battle with the “Jerries”.

The diary was donated to the archives by his late son David, who lived in Grove Lane, Padiham.

A former miner, he wanted to ensure his father’s war memories were not forgotten.

The first entry in the little red book reveals that Fred’s unit landed in Naples on New Year’s Eve 1943 and Fred wrote: “What a sight. Vesuvius covered in snow. Wonder where we go from here?”

On January 6, the men began a six-day convoy to Bari and Fred describes “bully and more bully” and him sleeping where he could – in a barn, by the side of the road and in a chimney.

He celebrated his 32nd birthday on January 18, but four days later he was detailed for funeral duty after “ten lads went west”.

Although his days were “the same old routine”, he helped find fuel to keep warm, travelling 130 miles one day in search of charcoal, and 142 miles three days later looking for wood in a forest.

On May 3, Fred was on his way to the front line with aircrew with the words: “I hope we come through it alright.”

He was then 70 miles from Rome and nine days later he wrote: “Last night a big barrage went up. This morning 700 kites went over.”

A day later: “Battle has flared up all along the front, with 2,000 guns in action.

“The night is like Belle Vue on the 5th of November.”

By August, Fred, who was sleeping in an old railway coach, hears another friend has been killed and wrote: “All my pals are going west.

“A blooming shame.”

By October heavy rain has swamped everything in mud.

Now based near Arrezzo, Fred noted: “A doctor passed us in the road 10 minutes ago. He is now dead after hitting a mine, when he ran off the road.”

On Christmas Eve, it’s revealed the airmen had a sing song and beer and that Christmas dinner was a “smashing feed”.

And as 1944 became 1945 Fred’s thoughts centre on “when is it all going to finish” and when he will get back home to east Lancashire.