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Arriving in Africa — Chapter 2
The primary purpose of our putting in there was to fill up with oil and fresh water and to take on supplies of fresh foods but we took the opportunity to effect essential repairs to the ship. We lay in the channel all the time, I don't think that there are any port facilities for big ships; and the various lighters came out to us. Besides the lighters the black boys came out in their little canoes and we had three amusing days.

First of all, in the morning before we were actually awake, came the diving boys in their little rough canoes swarming round the ships calling out "Hey Johnny what about a Liverpool penny" then after they had had a few pennies they changed the tune to "Hey boss what about a Glasgow tanner". Most of them had worked on ships and had visited these ports, picking up a bit of English. When we threw a coin to them they watched it anxiously until it hit the water then they would shout most ungracefully out of their canoes and with much threshing and hiching of the legs would disappear into the muddy water after it. Sometimes they were carried by the current for some distance and quite a swim back to their canoes carrying the coin between their teeth. Sometimes there would be a slight altercation between two or more of them as they dived for the same coin and very soon they started appealing for silver coins instead of copper ones as they said they could see them better in the muddy water. This did not seem to be the case as it was not until they were safely back in their canoes that they showed their chagrin at having copper coins instead of silver ones. But they certainly knew how many pennies made a tanner. Next day, after the diving boys had had as much from us as they though they were likely to get, out came the traders in their larger canoes bearing mainly bananas, pineapple, coconuts, limes, mangoes by the hundred and a little basketwork, sandal work and a few cheap cloth articles.

Each canoe had from two to six paddlers and in the front of each was the spokesman who did the actual trading. Each man in the canoe had a certain amount of stuff of his own in the cargo but the spokesman did all the bargaining and trading and appealing only to the proper owner on the matter of final price if it seemed to be getting too low. No man interfered with another's business and in fact the amount of co-operation between them was amazing. The method employed for trading was quite simple. The spokesman in the canoe threw a weight attached to which was a piece of string to the prospective customer high up on the deck. The customer then hauled in the string attached to which was a basket and from that another piece of string ran back to the canoe. The customer having received the basket, a basis was formed for bargaining "How much banana's Johnny?" "Shillum a dozen boss" "Get away you black robber. You get them for nothing - three pence a dozen" "No no boss very hard work, bananas very dear. Shillum a dozen" and so on until the price was fixed at sixpence or ninepence a dozen according to the calibre of the bargainers. Having fixed the price and quantity, the appropriate amount of cash was placed in the basket and lowered to the spokesman who put in the goods, adding "one for the hinge" and the lot was then hauled back on to deck and the basket thrown back or passed to the next prospective customer. For these days we almost made ourselves sick on their goods especially the mangoes which few of us had seen before. It all seemed pretty cheap to us but we could have got it a lot cheaper had we not been so eager to get at it. In fact, towards the end of our stay when cash was growing scarce we got the fruit almost for nothing, buying whole stocks of bananas for a tanner. They were a wily set of lads and made the most of their opportunity. One of the favourite exchanges was one W. African penny for three or four British ones. As I have said they knew how many pennies were in a tanner.

All this time we were sitting in an estuary amid scenery almost to compare with the Clydeside, though here it was much more florid and striking, not so quietly beautiful as the Clyde. Around us were hills richly covered in thick vegetation of various shades of green and brown and in the distance the rugged blue mountains. But the heat - the heat and humidity made the place unbearable.

At the end of these days we set off down the estuary past innumerable little verdured islands and so into the Atlantic and we settled down to the routine and monotony of the ship. To help to relieve the monotony a losing contest and a concert was arranged. In the boxing contest I met a lad from Edinburgh, a ginger-haired lad named Stewart. Our match was at webter weight but I don't think that either of us would have quite made the exact weight, still it was a good match and the spectators enjoyed it as much as I did. On the evening following this contest we had our concert for which I had been fortunate enough to be able to borrow some music. The show was held in the dinning hall of the ship and was a really good ones in it were several professionals and a few good amateurs. As not all of the lads could get into the dining hall at once and as some were on duty, the duty was broadcast throughout the ship.

That was the last of our entertainment on board ship for shortly afterwards we had another great thrill. We were approaching the Cape had changed back into blue as it had grown cold again when during the night we ran into an exceedingly violent storm, reckoned to have been the worst in those stormy waters for over fifty years. I could quite believe it.

Our ship, which was not a small or light one was tossed about like a cork rolling and tossing in a dangerous manner. How dangerous we did not know till later when the engineer told us that several times we were within half a degree of capsizing. To those like myself with strong stomachs it was exhilarating, we simply put our trust in God and the ship's captain and enjoyed ourselves. There were a few accidents here as some of the lads were thrown violently against the rails and broke a few ribs and some lads coming down steep stairs carrying our food were thrown off as the ship gave a violent heave and there were a few more fractures and scalds and a lot of bruised bodies and tempers. I put on a stone coming round the cape as most of the lads were too sick to eat and so I had the pick of the rations intended for fourteen men.

One minute the ship on our port beam, say, would seem to be towering just above us half way up a steep and jagged hill or cliff of water, the next minute as our port rails lifted high in the air, she appeared to be miles away down a long steep slope. The ship ahead would loom up close as we buried our nose into a breaker then suddenly she would disappear as we were thrown up by a sea which seemed angry at the idea of our trying to butt a way through. On the second morning there was a panic when we noticed that one of our ships was missing from the convoy. Signals were being flashed from ship to ship and rumours were spread like butter is with a hot knife. Later we found that she could not weather the storm and had had to run for the nearest port.

As we sailed into smoother waters we heard that Durban was to be our next port of call and that we would probably be allowed ashore there. This news caused a bit of excitement and there was a general dive for clean kit and 'brylcream'. Soon, we saw Durban and could hardly believe our eyes, we had been expecting to see a decent modern town but this was beyond our expectations. On the left of the harbour rises a fairly high densely tree covered hill and high above the hills we could see the lighthouse. This hill is useful in hiding and disguising the docks which lie at the foot of it and which are big enough to take large ships. In view of this all one can see on coming into the outer harbour are the big warehouses along the dock sides and behind and to the north of them a large modern town with its wide busy streets and esplanades fringing a long stretch of beautiful sandy beach. Then at night the lights - they nearly made us weep.

To our surprise we dis-embarked here and going straight aboard trains we drove right through the town, waving and cheering all the time, to a rest camp seven or eight miles out. We stopped in this rest camp for ten days and had a wonderful time. The Durbanites were hospitality itself and quite a few of us including myself made firm friendships. Money was welcome but not at all necessary to have a good time. The good people were all out to see that everyone enjoyed himself.

For me one of the most interesting parts of our stay there, were the three broadcast which some of our party did. There were six of us, three professionals and three semi-pro's and we were quite a nicely blended little show. There was Dickie Littledale - humorous monologues, Bert Yates, light songs and patter, Joe Good tenor, myself baritone, Stan Rose solo pianist, Stan had also written a number his own which I helped him to put over and Freddie Parnell a first class accompanist. Our first show was on the Saturday night from the studio and lasted half an hour. The second was from the city hall, during a show called "garrison theatre" given for the troops by local artistes and managed by Scotsman Bob Dunne who booked us after hearing the broadcast. Bob timed the start of the broadcast to coincide with the start of our show and again we were half an hour. The third time was again from the studio when we were scheduled to run half an hour but got away with forty minutes. This broadcast was on the short, long and medium wave bands and we hoped that it may have been heard in blighty.

One of the most important things about those broadcasts was the fact that we were of course paid for them and so we were able to enjoy ourselves with free minds. I hate accepting hospitality without at least being able to offer something in return and when a bloke is forced to rely on hospitality his hosts must find it much more difficult to entertain him for it takes a good host to rid a man of the idea that he's scrounging. Remember these things when perhaps some stranger you have entertained insists on making some return.

Winter was just coming on while we were there which was a pity as summer recreations had stopped and the winter ones were not yet quite organised. I'll bet that the Italian prisoners of war from the desert and were in camp next to us found it cold enough. We saw some of these arrive and they didn’t look too unhappy at being out of the game and they had a decent camp and were pretty well looked after. All good things come to an end and eventually we said a reluctant goodbye to Durban, boarded another ship 'the Normandie' and set of for Egypt.

This was a larger ship than our previous one and there were many more troops aboard for the comparatively short trip. It grew hotter and hotter as we ran up the coast of Africa and as the ship was built for cold Atlantic crossings it became most uncomfortable, and in the red sea it was almost unbearable. We had more fist work on board ship but I was unable to participate as I had a slight dose of dysentery at the time. I was able later to take part in a small classical concert in which Joe and I sang solos and a duet which Joe had bought in Durban. In this show were Joe and I and two army lads both signalmen, Moore, violinist and Walsh pianist both very fine players. The food on board this ship was excellent being all fresh stuff from Durban including ice cream a present from the Durbanites. Fags were plentiful and cheap as is usual aboard ship.

We had a quick run up the coast till we reached Port Tewfik our final point of disembarkation. We disembarked by means of small lighters as there are no docking facilities at Port Tewfik, then after a cup of tea, brewed for us by the Army transport company we boarded old broken down buses and set off along the banks of the Suez to our transit camp for dispersal. It's one of the saddist things about the RAF, this being constantly split from lads whom you have come to accept as good pals. At the transit camp we had our first taste of what the desert heat was going to be like. There was very little water on the camp and what there was of it was brackish, having had to come a long way by a narrow pipeline and as this pipeline ran for most of the way above ground, by mid-day it was delivered almost boiling. Here we had our second experience of trading with the natives and our first of open air cinemas and picked up a few local words and phrases. The cinema is a very simple affair of four mud walls with a screen at one end and projection base at the other. For a ceiling there is the lovely starry sky and the features of the hero or heroic were constantly being blotted out by flittering bats. Every morning we paraded on the square and awaited the posting officer who when he came, read out a list of names of lads who immediately hurried off to pack and those who were left said goodbye to another pal. After we had been dismissed from posting parade we were sent on camp fatigues and when we were finished those we stepped across to the Bitter Lakes for a dip. We had to nip out rather smartly when a ship passed up or down the canal as the water became covered in black oily smuts which were the very devil to remove.

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