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This story was added to the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People’s War website by Helen Jubb, ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Leeds, on behalf of the contributor, Mrs Falkingham, with her permission. The contributor understands the terms and conditions of the site.

I was working on a farm near Kneighton in Shropshire when I received my call up papers. I had to report to Copthorne Barracks in Shrewsbury on February 17th 1944 for 6 weeks primary training. Being in army uniform was nothing new to me as I had been a member of the Home Guard since Jan 1942.

At the end of March, I was transferred to Blacon Camp, near Chester for further primary training. It was here that I had my first sick leave and went home for the weekend by train to Wakefield. The reason for my being ‘sick’ was because during training me and another private were digging a slit trench when this guy hit my hand with an entrenching tool!

My next posting was to Hamilton Barracks, Scotland for 12 weeks advance training. On my first weekend free I took the bus to Glasgow to visit a family I had met whilst on holiday in Scarborough the previous summer- her name was Nancy Grey! But nothing ever came of it!

Hamilton Barracks was cold and draughty even in May. We did lots of route marches and for the last couple of miles or so a piper of the Cameronians marched back to the barracks with us with tunes like- ‘There was a soldier!’ and ‘Will ye no come back again!’

After finishing my advanced training and achieving 1st class rifleman and marksman on machine gun, I had my first leave, 7 days, and took the train to Wakefield.

Orders were then to report to Market Rasen in Lincolnshire for further training to become an N.C.O. This was from 5th August until 19th September when I was given 14 days embarkation leave- not too far to travel home this time.

Although I was still in the KOYLI I was then sent to Alnwick in Northumberland and joined the 11th Bn. West Yorks. in preparation for joining the allied advance in France. Unfortunately, (or not), during the final 30 mile cross-country exercise, I broke my big toe when jumping from a stone wall. So, I was laid up for a week and, instead of going to France I was sent to a camp at the Glasgow Exhibition Centre. Whilst there, (about a week), who should I see but two of my friends who were with me on the N.C.O.s course. Cliff Parker from Preston and Hugh Miskcimmin from Belfast. When we finished the course, all three of us were told that we had passed. When we joined our regiments would be the time when we got our stripe- maybe!

We embarked on the SS Moolton about Nov 2nd from Gourock, we headed well out into the Atlantic before entering the straits of Gibraltar. No one knew where we were really disembarking. I remember seeing the small island of Pantellaria off the starboard side. The following day found us docked at the Stalion Port of Toronto. Then came the announcement that all servicemen whose last number was even were to prepare to disembark, so we said cheerio to Cliff.

Before leaving I made arrangements with mother and father to let them know where I was ending up. As one couldn’t write exactly where, due to our mail being censored, I was to tell them that if it was Italy I would mention Tom Skidmore, (who was stationed there). If it was India it would be Joe Wright, a friend of Dad’s who lived in Bombay.

So, it was through the Suez Canal, down the Red Sea, called in at Aden, where I was admitted to the ship’s hospital with heat stroke. The day before arrival at Bombay I was back to normal and I am sure that introduction to heat and the treatment of it stood me in good stead. I was never bothered with the heat or sun again.

Upon arrival at Bombay, I somehow managed to get permission to visit Joe Wright at his house overlooking the bay. I had an excellent meal; he then took me back in his car to the transit camp.

The following day, around mid December we boarded a train for the main transit camp at Deolali, about 100 miles inland. It was very hot, dry and dusty but I remember taking part in a 1-mile race. Within a few days, Hugh was given his orders to join the West Yorks. who were in the front line in Burma. Before I left Deolali I heard that he had been badly wounded so his war didn’t last long.

I made friends with a chap called Rogers and one day we paid a visit to the local market where we both bought lucky snake rings in silver. His had green eyes, mine hadn’t. I guess I had the lucky one though, his didn’t do him any good, as I shall tell you later. We spent Xmas here, eating our Xmas dinner by the light of a Tilly lamp. About a dozen of us, including Rogers, were given orders to proceed to Bangalore to join the 1st Bn, East Yorks. for jungle training. When we got to the camp after a 2-day train journey, we moved with the battalion to a jungle camp south of Mysore called Tippakadu in the Nilgiri Hills. Disaster struck a couple of our party the day after arrival. It was very hot and a squad were given permission to run down to the river, about a mile from the camp. Two of the new arrivals dived into the cold, fast flowing water and were later pulled out dead. We slept under canvas but some of the Bn. were in old bashas, (bamboo and thatch huts), and some unfortunates caught plague. All the bashas were burned and the rest of the Bn. had two plague inoculations.

We spent about 6 weeks intensive jungle training even learned how to go to war with mules. I shall also remember one incident, our section, (nine men), had to do a long-range patrol, which necessitated sleeping under the stars for two nights. We built up a fire in a clearing and retired for the night leaving 2 men on stag. We did 2 hours on and 4 hours off. My turn came around, by this time the fire was very low- we didn’t need it to keep warm- just for brewing up char, (tea). I heard sounds in the distant akin to a steamroller advancing upon us. It got closer and closer, so we decided to wake up the rest. We didn’t know what it was and decided to build up the fire quickly, which was just as well, as at the edge of the clearing we could just make out a herd of elephants. They started trumpeting when they saw the fire and quickly made off!

It was about this time, 3rd Feb that I got my stripe, which meant an extra 11 a day. Another incident was when one of our junior officers fancied going on a shoot for the day. He asked me to accompany him- no doubt to carry his spare gun, water, compass, maps, etc. etc! he was after a deer called Cheetal, I thought he said cheetah! So I made sure there was a round up the spout of the rifle I was carrying. We were out all day and the only wild life we saw were buffalo, which we wisely lay hidden and observed.

But now came the moment of truth: ‘Right now, corporal, it’s time we were heading back. Which is the way?’ ‘Ha, ha, I thought you knew sir,’ I chirped. ‘The sun is over there sir, and that’s the way we have come, so let’s follow it whilst we can still see it.’ ‘Good thinking corporal. Let’s go.’ The Bn. headed back to Bangalore in the middle of March fully trained and battle ready, we hoped. I should mention here that the East Yorks. had spent most of the war in Bombay and were in fact known as the Bombay Home Guard! So I had spent an inordinately long time in training, over 13 months, from learning street fighting, house to house, forced route marches etc. in England preparing for Europe only to come to India and learn a different way. However, it was a damn site better than being pushed straight into it as poor Hugh was. I had joined a battalion who were no more war experienced than I was and we had got to know one another in the past few weeks. Then came the news that we had got our marching orders. The C.O. who was Lt. Colonel R.A.B. Cooper OBE called us together for a pep talk. Telling us that we had been privileged to join the 17th Indian Infantry Division- the well-known ‘Black Cats!’ And that we had to live up to, so don’t let the side down chaps! I know, I for one, and some of the younger squaddies were eager for the real thing, the old timers could only think of going back home.

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