For Albert "Bert" Williams, life in TAC HQ – General Montgomery's Tactical Headquarters in Normandy following D-Day, was very different from any other British Army mechanic's existence during World War II.

Regular visitors to Bert's camp included Winston Churchill, General Eisenhower, and even the King. Everyone who was anyone wanted to meet with Monty, the Commander-in-Chief of Allied forces as they liberated mainland Europe.

We have brought the 87-year-old from Calne in Wiltshire, together with fellow D-Day veteran, Michael Brennan, 83, from Shirehampton in Bristol, back to Normandy 65 years on.

Yesterday we followed Michael's story as a crack assault soldier – making him one of the first to set foot on the beaches of Normandy as dawn broke on June 6, 1944.

For Bert, being part of Montgomery's personal Tac HQ unit, meant a little more protection – much of the initial beach battle had been won by the time Monty came ashore on the evening of D-Day.

"This beach was filled with men and machines by the time we arrived," he recalls.

"I admired the beach masters, the medics and the padres – because they stayed on the beach all the time," he adds. "If the man you were landing with was shot, you weren't allowed to stop and help him. The beach master would be there saying, 'you carry on up the beach, we'll look after him'."

Much of the initial fighting may have finished, but Bert says, he got little sleep beneath the canvas of his lorry, as he passed through the night into D-Day+1 at the top of the beach.

Bert wasn't the only one who felt nervous in the war-echoing night.

"I remember an American came over and asked if I could take a look at a problem he was having with his Jeep," he says.

"I went over to the car, and he pointed at the fluorescent speedometer. He was worried that it would be seen by enemy fighter planes. That's how nervous we all were at the time.

"He said he couldn't work out how to turn the light off. I laughed and told him he wouldn't, as it wasn't a light, it was fluorescent paint. I fixed the problem by putting a paper bag over it, and he went off greatly relieved."

The following day Monty made his headquarters in a field close to the tiny village of Blay, a few miles inland.

We track down the point on a map, and drive deep into the Norman countryside in search of Monty's first Normandy HQ.

An hour later, we are standing in front of an inconspicuous farmer's field. A small plaque marks the field's role in the liberation of Europe. But Bert remembers it clearly.

"This was it," he confirms, his mind wandering back 65 years as he surveys the field.

"Monty always preferred to live in his trusty old caravan. It would have been located deep on the far side of the field, and the location of the HQ was kept as a tightly guarded secret – General Montgomery would have been the ultimate target for any German sniper.

"Actually, Monty was a very quiet man, and he liked to distance his own caravan, even from the rest of the HQ. He would surround himself with farm animals though. He found their company relaxing.

"After all," Bert adds. "You can't begin to imagine the kind of responsibility he must have felt as he directed the battle of Normandy from this field for the first few days after D-Day."

After another half-hour drive, we pull up at a beautiful chateau, on the outskirts of the village Creully. This tranquil corner of Normandy is the site of Monty's second HQ, from where he directed the long and bloody battle for Caen.

"Oh yes, I remember this very well," Bert says as we walk through the emerald light beneath the leaves of the oak trees.

"Again, Monty didn't use the chateau itself, he parked up his caravan in the far field – as far away from the village as possible. Very few of the locals knew they had such a famous person living on their doorstep.

"But the old aristocratic couple who were allowed to stay in the chateau were aware that Monty was here, and they kept their ears to the ground and warned us of any impending danger that might be facing the General."

We climb the small hill at the back of the chateau, and Bert's eyes wander down to the river flowing quickly below.

"We used to wash down there," he says. "I rigged up an old petrol can and drilled a series of holes in it, so we could use it as a shower.

"One of us would stand there pumping the water up to the petrol can, while the other would get under the shower and have a wash.

"All the old women used to come out and have a little giggle while they watched us," he recalls with a grin.

As dawn rises over the port of Ouistreham the following morning, we stand on the deck of the Brittany Ferries ship as it moves away from the Normandy coastline.

"I enjoy coming back," Bert says. "Each time I return I see something new. When we were there in the middle of it all, we had little idea about all the things that were happening around us."

Bert, who is chairman of the Wiltshire branch of the Normandy Veterans, says the organisation is being brought to an end after the 65th anniversary.

"The time is right I think," he says, with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "We're all getting on now, and unfortunately there are fewer and fewer of us left each year.

"But the Normandy Veterans organisation won't disappear entirely," he adds. "It's going to merge into a new organisation called Spirit of Normandy, which will open its membership to anyone with an interest in the events around D-Day. That way, we hope that the story of what took place on these beaches back in 1944, will continue to be told, long after all of those that were there have passed on.

"At the end of the day," he adds, with a last look at the retreating Normandy coastline, "that's all you can ask."

You can watch a 20-minute film following Albert and Michael's return to Normandy on our website at www.thisisbristol.co.uk/video.