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PART. V

The Gateway to the East

During our school days we were told about India, geographical facts which remained in our minds for many years — I should never have doubted any of the stories that I had been told if I had never visited India. I had the misfortune to spend some very miserable years in that wonderful country, and so did many thousands of British troops, ours is a far flung Empire, unfortunately India was not flung far enough. Bombay looks very impressive from the decks of an Ocean going liner, it has a fair sized dock which is the berth of many of our great ships in Peace time, a more sundry collection can be found there in War time. The Gateway of India, which was built to commemorate the arrival of King George V is about the first thing one sees on arrival, at the back of this stands the Taj Mahal Hotel, in War time it is the home of tired Army Officers who have worked too hard at their office desks in Delhi. Bombay itself presents nothing which can be termed romantic or mysterious, all dreams are shattered when touring this famous port. Filth and poverty are prominent everywhere, ragged urchins clutter the streets, men, women and children with limbs torn and scarred beg all day and all night and make themselves a general nuisance to the Soldier who wants to be left alone. The white population, who have the audacity to call themselves British Subjects are very low in the eyes of the British Soldier, which can be understood after the way in which they have treated our men in the East. The white memsahib or lady, (I must be polite,) she spends most of her time fulfilling social engagements and generally enjoying herself, we often wondered what her reactions would be if she were to work in a factory or to do some other kind of war work. I admit that some women do work for the troops in the canteens, but the general opinion is that they should do much more. At a dance perhaps a Tommy is lucky enough to get a dance with a lady partner, I say perhaps because it is very seldom that a white woman would condescend to dance with an English soldier below the Rank of Sergeant, so the common soldier was forbidden to enter the Dance hall. But I suppose that it was all part of that elusive thing known as Democracy.. Prices in Bombay were very high to us, everyday commodities such as toothpaste, blacking and shaving equipment were very expensive and took most of our hard earned cash, of course the Americans had plenty of money to spend as they were in a different Army and were fighting a different war !
By this time we realized the finest sight in the world,- Bombay from the back of a troopship,- but for us that was a long way away. One can judge by the above description that the ‘visitors’ to this wonderful country were not at all impressed by what they saw during their first tour of the famous city of the East. From this port the unit moved to an area near the ever famous Poona, the place was called Ghanish Kind or the Temple of the Gods, at this time the Monsoon season was just beginning, mud could be found in most places, which did not present a very warm welcome, nevertheless tents were pitched as best as possible under the existing conditions. A rear party was left in Bombay to look after the unloading of the store and unit kit, the same party arrived at the new location a few days later. Work soon started at the new place, this time men went out to work in the thick mud, of course it was raining most of the time and the works party came back each day feeling rather fed up, as the saying goes. It was here that a new training programme was arranged, this consisted of route marches and many other rather hard tasks, of course the Peace Time Soldier would never be asked to do such things, his life before the war was a very easy one but we began to break down the peace time practices and carried out a very hard training programme. The time came when we could visit the ever famous Poona, what did we expect to find there? by the descriptions it should have been a wonderful place but once again we had been misled by the stories of the Romantic East.
Poona itself is a very small town, if it can be called a town, the native population is of a sundry type, bullocks wander over the pavements without any consideration for the civilians who desire to walk in comfort. There are many shops in the main street of all types, but in war time the prices are very high especially to the soldier. This town is supposed to be the centre of Military Tradition in India or the Aldershot of the East, I cannot say enough nasty things to express my disgust. Beggars can be found everywhere, there is one in particular whom I remember very well, he was sitting in East Street, three and a half years ago and is still sitting there today, I believe that he has moved once or twice during the last year ! Amenities for the troops were scarce, Lady Lumley did start a canteen, but we wondered if she started it purely for the men or to attract more attention for herself in the social circle of Poona, the latter seems most likely. There are a few cinemas but nothing up to the standard of the English ones, that would be asking too much of our black brothers. One might already gather that I do not think much of the native population in general, that was the impression which I wanted the reader to have. Modes of transport varied, there was the Tonga, a horse drawn vehicle on two wheels which was far from comfortable to travel in, taxis were available but mostly to the Officers who are supposed to have better manners than the common soldier,- that is often a debatable point! I will say no more about the great city of Poona.
Training was still carried out by the unit, and we all soldiered on as the saying goes. The food situation was rather poor at the time, it appears that nobody seemed to know anything about us, so we had many enjoyable meals of cucumber, onions and bananas, after the first two or three weeks it was more than a joke. Owing to the fact that we were in the Army we saw more of the inside of the country than we really wanted to, we were put in station where some white people had never been, miles from the nearest town with little or no amenities for the troops, out on the open plains where the tropical sun beat down with its fierce intensity, dust storms to make everything full of grit and dirt. Canteens were in existence, at least we were told that they came under the heading of ‘canteens’, but in actual fact they were the links in a chain of one of the biggest rackets that I have ever met. These high class establishments were run by so called Army Contractors who monopolized all the Army trade, we were forced to buy or go without. In England one could find a N.A.F.F.I., but I suppose that it would be expecting too much for the same people to go out East and do a little for the troops, after all there has always been plenty of money in England, beside the N.A.F.F.I. makes no profits…..I wonder?
To sum things up in a few words, our life in India for the first two years was one of boredom and monotony with plenty of hard training to brighten things up. Our dear friend Mr, Churchill promised us sweat, toil and blood and I think that most of the fighting troops in India had there fair share. The internal trouble in the country did not worry the troops, Ghandi’s cry of ‘Quit India’ would have been willingly obeyed if it had been left to the Tommy, they hated the country and everything to do with it. The country could do with many changes and it will take many years if anything can be done at all,-while there are so many creeds and religions nothing can be done, we only hope that in future the people in power will take a little more interest in the affairs of the country instead of taking part in too many social functions.
After this war ended, no member of the Famous Fourteenth Army had any desire to do a further term of imprisonment in India, one dose of that is enough for any human being. So I will close this part of the story with a favourite saying of the troops, ‘India for the Indians’…. and ‘Roll on the Boat'

Continued in Part VI A

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