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Joining up and the first trip overseas

I was fortunate in being educated at Cranbrook School in Kent (Queen Elizabeth I visited the school and gave it a Charter in 1564!) and, as at most public schools in the 1930s, there was a very well-organised Officers Training Corps (OTC) which I joined in 1933 until 1937. This gave me a full grounding in infantry training and I obtained Certificate A, which was the equivalent of ‘passing out’.

In early 1941, realising I would be called up for military service eventually, I volunteered to join the Army and opted for the Queen’s Royal (West Surrey) Regiment, their HQ being at Stoughton Barracks, Guildford. After about three weeks, my Company Commander sent for me and said I appeared to know as much as my instructors and that therefore he was sending me to 164 OCTU (Officer Cadet Training Unit) in Barmouth, North Wales, with a view to my becoming an Officer. The course was very intensive and lasted around four or six months and thereafter I obtained the Kings Commission and became a young 2nd Lieutenant, with one ‘pip’ on my shoulder.

I was then posted to the 2nd/6th Battalion of the Queen’s, then near Faversham in Kent, having just returned from Dunkirk. There followed intensive training as a platoon commander and over the next few months the Battalion became welded together in great pride and spirit within 169 Infantry Brigade, comprising 2nd/5th, 2nd/6th and the 2nd/7th Queen's. We moved from time to time eventually ending up in Long Melford, Suffolk.

We knew that eventually we would be sent overseas. Security was very tight and we were issued with pith helmets, which indicated India or Burma, certainly the Far East. I was then a full-blown Lieutenant, and had the task of taking all the Battalion’s transport up to the Clyde for embarkation. I had a long convoy from Suffolk to Scotland, consisting of the C.O.’S staff car, jeeps, 15cwt trucks, 3-ton trucks, Bren Gun carriers, etc. When I arrived I remember one of the dockers saying ‘Is this the Basra lot?’ and when I returned I told everyone we were going to Basra, Iraq, but I don’t think anyone believed me!

A few weeks later, we embarked at Liverpool in the large Cunard liner, the 'Franconia'. It must have been tough on the ordinary soldiers, for conditions were cramped and they slept in hammocks and wherever space could be found below deck, whereas we officers had the first class cabins, plus first class dining room, lounges, and all facilities. There must have been nearly 2000 of us from all different sections of the 56 (London) Division on board.

The ‘Franconia’ could have reached Cape Town, our first stop, in 2½ weeks under normal sailing conditions, but we took between four and six weeks due to the fact that there were about thirty ships of various sizes in convoy, peppered with ships of the Navy on convoy protection. We had to take zig-zag routes to try to avoid the German U-Boats, and I can remember day after day seeing ships all around us, all keeping their distance from each other. Quite often a ship which had been, say, on our port side for several days, was suddenly missing, and we knew it had gone, together with all those on board. But we realised there was no point in worrying about it — we were lucky to get through safely. I remember we had a pretty rough passage through the Bay or Biscay going out. I was very seasick, and would have been glad to end life then and there, I felt so terrible. The strange thing was that, afterwards and for the rest of my life I have never felt seasick again!

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