大象传媒

I spent two leaves in Beirut which were well worth the tedious journey to get there. By train to Baghdad and then by ' Nairn ' transport to Damascus across the Syrian Desert. Nairn was an Australian run company and the coaches were claimed to be the worlds largest. Lunch boxes were provided on the articulated coaches which were steered across the desert by compass. The rest of the journey was by Indian Army trucks over the mountains and through the now infamous Bekar Valley. The sight of the Mediterraneun Sea plus just a glimpse of Cyprus in the far distance was a tonic indeed, and when we arrived at the 'Elephant Club' on the beach we had arrived in Heaven. Accommodation was under canvas, but meals were taken in the club. Most of our time was spent in the sea or lazing on the soft sand. Occasional trips into town where there was a nice shopping center, I had a coloured photograph to send home to Marjorie and Pat. Horse racing was a daily occurrence but we couldan't afford to lose money on that.
The second trip to Beirut, I had a couple of days in Damascus ( lonfg enough), very smelly, with a large open sewer running through the center. I visited the 'Street called Strait' reputedly the 'Road to Damascus' taken by St Paul where he ' saw the light' and was converted to Christianity.An uninspiring dusty road skirted by mud walls and little else. I was glad to get back to Beirut.
After approximately 12 months with 23rd Workshop Coy No 1 Base Workshop, I was seconded to NO 7 Vehicle Company No 7 Base Ordnance Depot about a mile away, but still in the same complex. We were a small R.E.M.E unit of about 12 men with one workshop, dealing mainly with renovation and repair of Recovery vehicles, tank transporters. ' Matadors', Diamond T' etc Canadian Army Transport CATS and Bedford open trucks. Our unit had a Blacksmith, Upholsterer, Welder, Vehicle Mechanics and was self supporting. When a vehicle was completed we would drive it to a spot about quarter of a mile from the workshop, and leave it there. The Russians had a small receiving depot about a further half a mile away and would obviously watch for a vehicle to be collected. We never made contact with them, the vehicles would be spirited away never to be seen again. There was no fraternisation between us and the Russians, in fact their attitude was most marked when on occasions we had a concert inside the hall. Senior Russian Officers would be invited and seats reserved on the center of the front row. Everybody would be seated waiting the arrival of the Russians, who would come stomping in escorted by two armed guards, go straight to their seats without a word, the two guards remaining one at each end of the front row throughout the performance, at the conclusion of which they would just as unceremoniously stomp out. CONRADES!!.
Extra duties were performed by vehicle mechanics one week in eight, as camp duty electrician, which entailed starting the diesel generator at sunset and stopping it at 'lights out', plus the maintenance of the diesel engine and motor. All units received 'Troop Comforts' from various organisations and these had accumulated to such an extent in the Company office that a clear out was ordered. If anybody wanted to keep anything they could claim it before destruction. I looked through a pile of books and selected a book of poems by Gray & Collins. Gray being famed for his ' Elergy written in a Country Churchyard' I read several of the contributions to the book on numerous occasions. Particularly' Gary's Elergy' 'Ode on a distant prospect of Eton College 'and 'Ode to a favouite cat drowned in a tub of goldfish' understood the meanings more and more.
We had an excellent Xmas dinner 1944, Roast Turkey and all the trimmings. The news was greatly improved and optimism centered on this being the last Xmas in this God forsken place, reputed to be just a few miles north of Shaiba, at the confluence of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, the original site if the Garden of Eden.
By May 1945 the war in Europe was over, two turkey dinners in 6 months, unbelievable. This was the celebration to end all celebrations. The change was immediate work virtually ceased, Lieutenant Cousins, a keen motor cyclist suggested we form a motor cycle club, machines were available of all makes and descriptions and bits and pieces were stripped from one and used elsewhere until we had a dozen or more running bikes. Mine basically was a Royal Enfield. we had scrambles in the sand dunes and erected a large marquee away from the workshops, as a clubhouse. We were longing to go further afield and then out of the blue Lieutenant Cousins announced that he had authorisation to make a motor cycle trip to Kuwait, about 50 miles across the desert, to have a swim in the sea. He would lay on a Bedford 2L 3 ton truck to accompany us with water and rations and few spares, and he would lead the ' expedition'. In due course a day was fixed and off we went. The Bedford 2L broke down with a radiator leak which was fixed with chewing gum, ( not the usual REME remedy) and we safely reached the Persian Gulf at Kuwait. A quick dip in the sea was sheer bliss. Mosquito nets were erected on the beach and a make shift meal prepared out of the lorry. We would sleep on the beach and the following day visit Kuwait. It was nothing more than an Arab village, and we did not spend much time there. We needed to be back before sunset. I omitted to mention that when we awoke after sleeping on the beach, the whole area was alive with crawling locusts, there was a ridge of dead ones about 2 feet high, right along the beach, and the whole area was crawling, so we abandoned the beach with some haste.
The return journey was uneventfull, but very tiring it being a continual battle to maintain control on the rapidly changing surfaces.An enjoyable experience especially after a shower. NOSTALGIA-(Forever reared its head) Particularly in April when familiar verses 'Oh to be in England' would never fail to surface.
'Oh to be in England now that Aprils there:
For he who wakes in England sees some morning unaware,
That the brushwood sheaf, round the Elm Tree Bole
Is in tiny leaf,
And the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough,
In England now.
Life continued at a liesurely pace but as the war in the Far East was continuing one could not be sure in which direction the next move would be, East or West. A few weeks later I was informed that instructions had been recieved that I was being posted to No2 Base Workshops at Tel-el-Kebir,Egypt, and would go as soon as a movement order and travel documents were received. They were not long in arriving. By train to Baghdad, Nairn transport to Damascus, stay overnight in transit camp, Indian Army transport to Haifa Transit camp. This was very comfortable right on the coast with a lovely swimming pool excellent facilities.
Just behind the camp was MOunt Carmel atop of which was a monastery and huge 50 foot cross facing out to sea and brilliantly illuminated, having been re-lit at the conclusion of hostilities.
About a week was spent in Haifa and then on the train to Egypt.
It was an interesting trip along the coast with the sea on one side and the Palestinian attempts at horticulture on the other. It appeared that they were losing the battle for every mile we travelled the sand got higher and higher up the trunks of the palm trees until they disappeared altogether. We were on the edge of the Sinia Desert. El Quantara and we were crossing bridges into mainland Egypt. Army transport was waiting at the station for only about half a dozen men going to Tel-elKebir. We were soon on the way and what a transformation it was, driving along proper roads with lush green growth on
either side until we reached No2 Base Workshops, sand everywhere. The place was obviously being run down. Gone was the frantic activity that existed in Iraq almost up to VE day. At last I was now a goodm deal nearer home and had a pleasant weekend 'Club' on the banks of the Suez Canal. Close to the 'Bitter Lakes' where King Farouk's yacht was moored. A reserved stretch of beach was for our exclusive use adjoining but seperated by high wire fencing from the ' Private Beach' for Canal employees, most of whom lived in Ishmailia, a nice surburban type town with luxuriant palms and green lawns. I never missed a chance to get down to the canal at weekends, like paradise after Iraq. If only Marjorie and Patricia could have been with me it would have been perfect.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.