大象传媒

It was in the late 19th century that some of my ancestors decided to hie themselves off to a greener land and escape the privations of farming in |Kent. This was to the USA but why one cousin also thought that Alaska was a greener land I am not sure. I had no such ideas 100 years later when my boyhood was shattered in the 20th century by being dragged into the RAF in 1940. But I came to pass that I also was being forced to leave this fair and pleasant land although it was fast becoming not quite so pleasant at this time. My ancestors went because they thought they would have a better life. I had no such illusions. I knew I was in for a far worse time. However they had made their own decisions to where they went. I had no say as to where I was going.

Life in the RAF is not quite the same as the Army where one usually stays with a particular unit and so can consolidate friendships. In the RAF one is always being posted from one unit (or Squadron) to another and friendships have to be started afresh every posting. So my overseas posting in that respect meant making new buddies.

So here we were, a motley group of 鈥渆rks鈥� awaiting our destiny. None of us knew where we were going. There were dozens of rumours flying around. One day it was the Far East, the next Australia, but one rumour was as good as another. We tried to judge by the type of kit being issued. Our group all had toupees so at least we thought this could mean the tropics. Or could it? By now we had come across the illogical bureaucracy of the Services and toupees could mean the Arctic. The type of inoculations didn鈥檛 help either except that they made us all feel horribly sick.

I cheered up a bit when I boarded the troopship at Liverpool. It was a pre-WWII luxury cruise liner, 鈥淭he Monarch of Bermuda鈥�. Unfortunately for the passengers on this trip all the luxury had been stripped out. Still, I suppose it was nice to know that the cabin I was allocated with five others (in bunk beds) had in peacetime been occupied by Bing Crosby, or was it Dillinger? Being a luxury liner every cabin had a bath or a shower but now only cold sea water came out of the taps, but al least it came out and we were issued with sea water soap. The luxury cruise customers also had Vi-Spring mattresses 鈥� now we had straw palliasses 鈥� hard luck indeed. In peacetime the liner boasted the prowess of their chefs. On this voyage our opinion of the chefs is not printable. My ancestors on their way to Australia probably had 鈥渉ard tack鈥� and it seemed that our food was the same. Ho Hum!

It was not until The Royal Liver Building had long since faded that I remembered that we would be sailing through 鈥淯鈥� boat hunting waters. We did have a large escort of Navy vessels, but this did not do much to allay my fears so I tried to put them out of my mind by making new friends. By chatting to the crew we learnt that our convoy was making a giant circle of the Atlantic going up to Greenland and almost to America before we made our first land fall at Freetown on the West African coast. Of course, everybody hoped that we would be allowed ashore to stretch our legs but no such luck. It was only a refuelling stop. Perhaps it was just as well from the tales we heard from the crew. It seemed this part of Africa was a 鈥渨hite mans grave鈥�. However, there were compensations if one can call them that. It was our first encounter with 鈥渂um boats鈥� 鈥� I never discovered why they were so called but essentially they were small dinghy type boats, each containing a native trying to sell whatever good they had at the top of his voice at the same time as all the others 鈥� it was an absolute babble of sound. The other interesting experience was a tropical rainstorm while we were anchored. The shoreline was blotted out by what looked like a solid wall of warm water that stung one鈥檚 skin as it landed. It was a sensation I shall never forget. It was short lived but it sent the bum boats scurrying for shelter and we sailed before they could get back alongside.

The next day we crossed the Equator. Nobody had told me about the extraordinary ceremony of 鈥渃rossing the line鈥� for the first time which was enacted in peacetime, but I soon found out as the O.C.Troops decided that this rite was to be continued. On the day all the troops on fatigues (punishment for misdemeanours) were hauled up on deck where a canvas pool had been filled with cold sea water and a greasy pole erected across it. One by one the unlucky airmen were told to walk the plank after having been unceremonious shaved with the most wicked razor. Naturally none of them were allowed to get across the pool on the pole without either falling in or being knocked in. At the end of the ritual the C.O. Troops suffered the same fate to the cheers of the assembled mob. A little after we were all issued with a certificate from King Neptune saying that 鈥渉enceforward we could cross his Kingdom without let or hindrance.2

As we left the Equator and moved south it became overbearingly hot and with six to a small cabin was absolutely stifling. The luxury cruise passengers may have had air conditioning but we didn鈥檛. The answer was to sleep on deck but it too had its drawbacks. One was that there was not enough room for everybody so a place had to be 鈥渂ooked鈥� early by parking one鈥檚 bedding in a space. Rather like booking a spot on a Mediterranean beach today. Another drawback was that the decks were hosed down at five o鈥檆lock every morning and the heavy sleepers had an early bath which included their palliasses.

All the troops had various duties during the voyage and one of mine was to be a 鈥渇ire picket鈥� below decks at the bow of the ship as we rounded the Cape of Good Hope and good hope I certainly had as it was getting greener and greener and only just managed to survive before dashing back to my cabin and being violently sick. Sea sick for the first and last time up till now.

The crossing the line ceremony seemed to trigger off a whole batch of entertainment for the troops in order to combat boredom. There had always been early morning P.T. (physical training), but now there were several groups started for more sedate activities such as a chess club, a 鈥渉ousey housey鈥� session (now its called bingo) as well as an illegal Crown and Anchor school at which a great deal of money changed hands. I think the officers turned a blind eye to this as it was generally run by the Sergeants whom, I suspect, took a cut of the profits. A small concert party got going as there were quite a number of stage artists on board. This included a small orchestra which gave shows as well as backing up the concert party. It was at this period that I had my first encounter with what I considered to be up to now a very high brow book 鈥� Aldous Huxley鈥檚 鈥淎 Brave New World鈥�. I enjoyed it. From then on I didn鈥檛 shy away from more erudite reading.

All the bad weather round the Cape was soon forgotten as we docked in sunshine at Durban. There on the pier head was 鈥淭he Lady in White鈥� singing patriotic songs to greet us as she had done for every troopship that had arrived here and which she continued to do for the duration of the war. A great lady and a terrific moral booster. A number of years later I read her book in which she had done for every troopship that had arrived here and which she continued to do for the duration of the war. A great lady and a terrific moral booster. A number of years later I read her book in which she had told her fascinating story. This welcome continued as we were greeted by a great mass of South Africans as we stepped off the gangplank on shore leave and taken to their homes for a meal and a tour of the sights. Actually, for me, there was a penance to pay. I ate so many fresh pineapples, a luxury I had never experienced before as up to now they had always come in tins. I had a sore mouth and tongue for several days so that I had to be very careful how I chewed by food. I suppose it served me right for being a glutton. I shall however, always retain fond memories of Durban.

After Durban it was a very tense time. Half the troops thought we would make for India or Singapore whilst the other half couldn鈥檛 have cared less after the entertainment of Durban. In the event we ended up anchoring in Aden harbour. A more hot, humid, dusty, dirty, smelly place I could not have imagined! Here we stayed for four days whilst all the other ships disappeared. I think only the Captain knew why but stay we did. We did get ashore and it was quite exciting as it was the first Arab town I had been in, on top of which it was a duty free port so there were many very cheap goods on sale. On an Airman鈥檚 pay that鈥檚 where they stayed 鈥� on display. I did, however, buy a small camera, a Kodak Brownie which I used for many months afterwards. We were told to be careful of the food but I enjoyed the Turkish coffee. It was like no other coffee I had ever tasted. Served in tiny cups of egg cup size, it had a fabulous taste which I think was due to using goat鈥檚 milk. It was tricky to drink as the bottom half of the liquid was just thick grounds 鈥� tip the cup up too far and one got the grounds as well!

Leaving Aden we made a dash up the Red Sea with temperatures below decks soaring to over 120F at times. Of course, it was just my luck to fall for mess duty. We dined, if one can call it that, on long tables seating about twenty and two mess orderlies had to fetch all the food for their table and serve it out. In normal temperatures this was a good duty as one could make sure one鈥檚 own helping was more than adequate but in the Red Sea temperatures much of the food remained uneaten and was, I suspect, thrown to the sharks.

It had taken us six weeks to reach Port Tewfik which was the start of the Suez Canal and I can say without fear of contradiction that I was overjoyed and couldn鈥檛 wait to get ashore despite what might lie ahead. But despite all the rigors of the voyage the friendships I made lasted many years.

MIDDLE EAST DAYS

After landing at Port Tewfik we were sent to a transit camp at Kasfaret to await posting to the Sqdn (238), and it was here that the local food got us. I think everyone suffered from Dysentery, some were very bad, and were in hospital whilst moth of us followed a well worn track from tent to latrines all day and night. We were all fairly by the time we went to join the Squadron at Amaria in the Delta between Cairo and Alexandra which was the Squadron base before the Wavell push up the Western Desert. As a Fitter IIa I was in the Maintenance unit which meant that we were always behind the advanced flights and we moved up to Sidi Berani. All the while as the flights moved to keep up with the 8th Army troops we moved to Mersa Matru and from there we went to Gambut, which was just level with Tobruk where we stayed for Christmas. We clubbed together to send a truck back to Cairo to buy Christmas fare and when January came round we decided that we weren鈥檛 going to get it. What happened was that coming up to Gambut we had to miss 鈥淗ellfire Pass鈥� at Bardia on the coast, which was still being held by the Germans so the lorry retraced this trail. Unfortunately for the driver the inland trail marks had been taken away because the pass had surrendered. It got horribly lost and the two erks ended up having to walk for two or three days to finally get back to the border of Egypt and Libya. They were in a terrible state but they finally got back to the squadron after a spell in hospital. After hearing of their plight we forgave them for not coming back with the Christmas goodies.

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