大象传媒

We were met and escorted to C.O.B.U. H.Q. 鈥� I don鈥檛 remember the transport but I remember the first impressions of Bombay 鈥� or rather the outlying districts - I suppose I might call them suburbs. So my first memories of India were of shacks and hovels and of huge crowds, small carts being manhandled and large carts mostly with iron shod wheels laden with, well, anything and everything being pulled by bullocks. For obvious reasons everyone seemed to be dressed in white and many men wore a type of white forage cap which I later learned was a sort of uniform worn by 鈥楥ongress鈥� supporters 鈥� Gandhi鈥檚 party, striving for Indian independence.

One of the things I remember about India was smell 鈥� various smells, some agreeable, some disagreeable. There were various areas of bare ground about the size of a large-ish back garden among the shacks and the smell in this area was revolting. I noticed a number of parallel washing lines with rows of something small hanging from them. I asked what it was and was told Bombay Duck with millions of flies buzzing around. I said I didn鈥檛 fancy duck and my informant laughed 鈥� it鈥檚 fish, he said, drying 鈥� sun cured if you like. I didn鈥檛 like - but as I鈥檝e always said 鈥淥ne learns something new every day鈥� even now.

After some miles the districts we were travelling through appeared to be changing 鈥� fewer shacks and more pleasant looking houses and eventually we arrived on a road where occasionally we had what the house agents in Bournemouth call sea glimpses. C.O.B.U. H.Q. was a short distance from the top of a sandy beach, and was very pleasantly situated on hard sand under coconut palms.

This was Juhu, a seaside refuge for Bombay and the hinterland, for sahibs and memsahibs. I had a 鈥榖ashu鈥� (native hut) quite roomy to myself, a 鈥榗harpoy鈥�(bed) with an enormous mosquito canopy and a wash basin and a chair. Luxury 鈥� down to the sea for a swim 鈥� wonderful. How lucky can you be? I had a servant, immaculate, about 30 I should think, tall and well built. There was considerable difficulty in conversing. I asked for some water (pani) to wash and he went outside and shouted and a small elderly grey haired man arrived. Some conversation and Gunga Din arrived with water. So it hadn鈥檛 taken long to experience the caste system. My servant was excellent 鈥� clean white bed linen 鈥� laundry, khaki drill beautifully starched and pressed. The food in the mess was mostly tinned army rations but well cooked and augmented with mangos and small bananas and the beer was Australian. We started taking mepacrine, the anti-malarial drug, like yellow aspirin, a filthy taste on the tongue in spite of a quick swallow. I notice in the Daily Telegraph that the course 鈥� whatever is prescribed nowadays, should be started before arriving in a malarial region. The old hands said it would stain us yellow.

I had nocturnal visitors. I noticed that my soap had tooth marks in it. There were lots of small creatures in the trees 鈥� I was told the name 鈥� I forget, but I called them chipmunks (which they weren鈥檛) which of course are American.

This paradise didn鈥檛 last long. The jeeps and trucks were loaded up and we proceeded to Bombay to join a convoy to Madras. Most of the people from Juhu had been in India for some time and that was useful. We took our places in the convoy which we noticed was largely Sikh. Some Sikh officers (a captain and some lieutenants) approached and we introduced ourselves. They spoke good English and asked who was in charge of the convoy. We didn鈥檛 know, they didn鈥檛 know and some wily character said that the senior officer was obviously in command, no argument about that. It was easy to determine who the senior officer was because of army numbers. I鈥檇 been commissioned four years and was senior. I was in charge 鈥� there was no getting out of it. Talk about Fred Kano鈥檚 army! That won鈥檛 mean much to most people these days but I believe it was a music hall turn 鈥� probably akin to 鈥淒ad鈥檚 Army鈥�. I turned to the Sikh captain and explained that I had been in India some seven days and had he got orders and a route and he said that he had so I said that I and the fate of the convoy was in his hands. I think he was relieved and that our arrival had been somewhat of a surprise. He had a route and where nightly stops were so off we went. One of the old hand had said that everyone travelled by train in India because the roads were terrible and the drivers unpredictable and it will be hot and horrible and it was. It was suggested that the roads had been cut up by the bullock carts with iron shod wheels and that they should be banned. I did notice though that some of the large carts had pneumatic tyres.

For me the journey was full of interest, no bypasses, we went through ancient town after town, view after view, the climb up the Western Ghals, the incredible terracing on steep slopes, many people working in the paddy fields bent double 鈥� rugged outcrops with ancient Mukalta fortresses on top and the dust and dried up river beds, and in and near towns the bullock carts lumbering along, and everywhere large numbers of small boys taking a great interest. Circling vultures or kite hawks were numerous. I remember well the sight of half a dozen vultures on the flank of a dead cow with their heads and necks invisible because, having eaten the top side, they were right through to the bottom side if I can put it that way 鈥� and this was in a street outside a house.

The convoy was to take five days if all went well, via Poona, Satara, Belgaum, I do not remember where the third stop was, the fourth day we skirted Bangalore, the largest town in South Central India and the fifth day we arrived at Poonamallee ten miles or so west of Madras, absolutely whacked. This was the concentration area for the invasion of Malaya.

The first and second nights of the journey I was packed off to the luxury 鈥� comparative 鈥� of the visiting V.I.P. 鈥� District Commissioner鈥檚 I suppose bungalow. The others slept on the road as best they could 鈥� in or under vehicles if they were lucky. The character in charge of the dak appeared with a cooked meal after I had washed and dusted off 鈥� then pristine white sheets on the bed and at the crack of dawn breakfast - eggs of course 鈥� a jeep appeared to return me to the convoy. I felt embarrassed about this but was assured by an old India hand that these facilities were there to be used and should be used. After the second night I decided that to be the only one accorded this privilege was very embarrassing so stayed overnight with the convoy and had an evening stroll observing the locals 鈥� but the small and not so small boys were a nuisance. Further to this we used to line up the troops first thing to issue mepacrine tablets. Then as we were quite open to anybody, the kids would arrive and be a nuisance. One morning we gave the biggest boy one of these sweeties which everyone was getting. He put it in his mouth and the reaction was comic - to us anyway. He yelled and showed great distress, spitting and grimacing and the crowd retreated. Mepacrine is a nasty shock if chewed.

Nothing very much was happening in the concentration area. As always there were rumours floating about 鈥� we were going in by air, some were parachuting 鈥� well that was nonsense because there were very few of us qualified and I saw no airborne troops about, we were going on 48 hours notice 鈥� all rubbish but no worse than previous scares in 1940 of German troops dressed as nuns 鈥� look at their boots! There was a small lake near us and we were amused by the hordes of boys skylarking about. One of the other C.O.s and I decided, because it was very hot that a swim would be a good idea so we stripped off and went in much to the mirth of the boys. Very few seemed to venture out of their depth, we did because there was more room farther out. Suddenly to our horror we saw a snake, head well out of the water swimming in our direction. We panicked and turned and swam to safety as fast as we could and the boys were hysterical. We were later told that fresh water snakes there were harmless. We didn鈥檛 wait to find out!

We knew that the Japanese were in desperate trouble and were retreating fast in Burma and Japan was being bombed by the Americans. There had been a hut that had been used as an officers鈥� club. There was Australian beer, tinned pineapple and little else but it was somewhere to yarn to other people. I was feeling ill, just couldn鈥檛 eat anything. A radio was always on for the news. So we heard that the Americans had dropped a new type of bomb on Japan, we had caused incredible damage 鈥� the atom bomb whatever that was. Then again another. I was beginning to feel worse, really awful. The others said that if I didn鈥檛 see a doctor they would get a doctor but I was adamant, having seen a similar situation before D Day that had resulted in a suicide. A few days later in the club, we heard that the Japanese had surrendered. There was wild cheering and more beer. The war now was completely over. I sat there feeling like death but when the initial noise had subsided I banged a glass on a table and stood up and there was quiet and I said 鈥淚s there a doctor here?鈥� There were two. They came towards me and looked at me closely and then one said something to the other who nodded. They asked how long I had been like this and I said at least a week. They said that I was really ill with a neglected - or untreated - jaundice and should go to hospital straight away - so I did!

A quick farewell to the others and they organised transport to Madras, to Fort St George 鈥� lovely and cool with thick stone walls and fans and I reflected that Robert Clive had been there before me. I was quickly removed to a temporary hospital 鈥� pre-fabricated I think which had been prepared for casualties from Malaya and Singapore. I was put into a clean and comfortable bed in the Officer鈥檚 Ward. I think I鈥檓 right in saying there were 56 beds there, because the loos were at the far end of the ward and I remember counting 28 beds as I ambled down there 鈥� but, I was the only one, No. 1, next to the nurses鈥� office, dispensary and other ancillary bits and pieces. Now, would you believe it, I was the only one there and looking after me were 2 Queen Alexandra鈥檚 I Military Nursing Service, the Q.A.I.N.S., a number of R.A.M.C. N.C.O.s and orderlies and five Italian P.O.W.s. What a life, surely no one ever anywhere was so well staffed.

At first I felt too ill to enjoy it. I remember as soon as I was feeling better that I was asked what I would like to eat. I said, 鈥渁n egg鈥� and that was rejected with horror and I finished up with rice pudding. I gradually felt better but it was a long job. I saw a doctor every few days, my diet became more varied and I gradually felt stronger and walked up and down the ward, slowly at first and then gaining speed. I don鈥檛 remember how long I was there, two or three weeks I think. I noticed on my notes NYD and asked the sister and was told 鈥榥ot yet diagnosed鈥� because they initially thought there were other complications but they found me some books and an English language newspaper and we swapped life histories. After another week or so another Captain arrived. He was afflicted with some NYD problem but it was a change of company. I should have said that one of the Italian P.O.W.s had got a violin from somewhere and he played it beautifully grimacing all the time because the violin was so poor. Rumour had it from another P.O.W. that he had been in an opera orchestra 鈥� Scala Milan perhaps. One of the P.O.W.s named Hans was quite blonde - from the Tyrol.

I used to sit on the veranda sometimes and watch what was going on. There were troops from a West African unit in a neighbouring hut, some way distant actually, and they used to pass by eating with a spoon, Brylcreem from the jar, honestly. I was told as soon as Brylcreem was in, it was sold out. Where 鈥榠n鈥� was I never found out. I particularly remember one occasion when I saw a brown animal about the size of a medium sized dog but it wasn鈥檛 a dog around a dustbin area. It jumped up and in the dustbin. Someone appeared and put the lid on the dustbin and weighted it with a broken paving stone. All hell broke loose a terrified animal beserk inside the bin. Several other turbaned characters arriving with a shovel. The lid was removed slightly, a head appeared and was promptly hit several times with the shovel. The corpse was removed and left by the dustbins 鈥� presumably the caste in charge of refuse would remove it 鈥� that鈥檚 India!

I was feeling quite well by this time but I knew that my lot were not at Poonamallee any longer but were in Malaya accepting the surrender of Japanese units. The doctor said that now I was well enough he had had an order that I was to return to Bombay but perhaps I should have a couple of days leave in Madras first. I wasn鈥檛 keen but ended up in a nice hotel as a free agent and took exercise exploring Madras. That was really the real reason for delaying my return to Bombay. Madras was not impressive I thought, no tall buildings like Bombay 鈥� mostly white, two or at the most three stories. I made my way to the harbour but there wasn鈥檛 one, just a sandy beach and ships anchored off shore and lighters unloading and transferring to warehouses. The weather was mostly dull and very humid and I was bored so I phoned Poonamallee, returned to hospital, bade my farewells and was off to the station to return to Bombay which I did.

This was the first time I had travelled any distance on an Indian train, sharing a carriage with an Indian naval officer who spoke excellent English and was a pleasant companion who knew all the ropes. A train journey can be tedious and hot. Meals were at halts or stations and this was the first time I had experienced a punkawallah working a huge fan by a string tied to his toes. The railways I thought were really impressive certainly a better way to travel than by road. They always seemed to be crowded with white clad humanity like suburban trains in rush hour London 鈥� but they had luggage 鈥� cases and bundles 鈥� where were they going and why? There was movement at every stop 鈥� on and off. The engine always seemed to be stopping to take on water. We arrived at Bombay, I phoned Juhu and was picked up to be united with most of the old gang with their Japanese swords and the Burma Star. What yarns they had about accepting the surrender of units and garrisons of overwhelming numbers in various places. The general feeling was they were usually like lambs 鈥� depressed, ashamed perhaps and then other troops arrived in numbers and took over. There was much laughter and stories about how it was sometimes expected that they would take over the Japanese Malay women.

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