大象传媒

Voluntary War Service.

We travelled overnight arriving at Marske By The Sea, North Yorkshire early next morning. As I soon found out, this is one of the coldest places in England, hence the location of the basic training regiment. We were cold, hungry and tired. We were directed to the 鈥渃ookhouse鈥� where we got a taste of the sort of service we might expect in the army. I don鈥檛 know what we expected, but the service was not what we thought, and we lost our appetite instantly. But that was only temporary, as the training we underwent during the next few months soon gave us an appetite to eat anything we could lay our hands on.

We had some surprises to come. We were now amongst mainly nineteen-year-old national service men (conscripts) from a complete mixture of backgrounds. We learned some choice language, words I鈥檇 never heard before. I soon realised that it was just a means of expression used to emphasize a point when proper vocabulary was missing. We also learned how to look after ourselves and our property. I had no property left on the first morning, having lost my suit, wallet and last few pounds during the night. The culprit, who turned out to be the N.C.O. (Non-commissioned-officer) in charge of our barrack room, was found and dealt with before the end of our training. In fact I later took his place as the junior N.C.O. in charge of the barrack room. I didn鈥檛 find much bad feeling against the Irish, even though the IRA were already active in England. Putting bombs in post boxes was one of their tricks in those days. As most of our troop were called up, they couldn鈥檛 understand why we had volunteered for the war, especially as we came from neutral Southern Ireland. I think they would have volunteered if they hadn鈥檛 been called up, and I told them so.

We hadn鈥檛 expected the training to be easy, and it wasn鈥檛. We were issued with uniform (battle dress) boots gaiters etc. They didn鈥檛 fit as well as the clothes I sold in the gents outfitting. The basic training consisted of early rising, spit and polish, regular inspections of everything, domestics (spud bashing and dish washing etc.), foot drill, rifle drill, small arms training, field craft, physical training, map reading and crawling about in the country. I enjoyed the training and did well at most subjects. I always finished near the top in the tests etc. I didn鈥檛 like boxing, but was well able to defend myself. I managed to negotiate the ropes, bars and horses in the gym. I didn鈥檛 take part in any of the team sports at that stage. Dave struggled through the basic training, but he was not a happy man. He was a few years older than me and may have come from a different background. I on the other hand, was better equipped to stand up to the hardship, tough training and discipline. My experience as a farmers son in my early years was invaluable. The toughest part of the training for me was the rifle drill on the square in the frost and snow. Our hands would get so cold they would almost stick to the rifle. We often had people fainting, and Dave was usually amongst them.

After about a month I was amongst the promotions to Lance Bombardier (L/Bdr.) and put in charge of a barrack room of about thirty men, including Dave who was my boss in civilian life. I was surprised at being selected for promotion, and didn鈥檛 think I was ready for taking responsibility. The senior NCOs encouraged and guided me until I was able to take control myself.
Our basic training was completed and we were both (Dave and I) posted to the same service unit, an Edinburgh Territorial Regiment, but in different Batteries (sub-units). We didn鈥檛 see much of each other after that. Training continued in the form of survival exercises where things became really tough, and technical training peculiar to the Artillery. In my case the technical training was a kind of survey work, spotting targets, map reading, surveying gun positions and targets, and laying the guns, e.g. pointing them in the appropriate direction and calculating the correct range etc. All this for 14 shillings per week, the equivalent of seventy pence per week, minus a voluntary deduction of 3/6d (seventeen and a half pence) to our Mothers, leaving us with 10/6d (fifty two and a half pence) per week. Of course we had full board and lodging and some very nice clothing? I had never seen the uniform (battledress) until I put it on!

As a volunteer for the duration of the war I was keen to be doing something useful for the war effort. I couldn鈥檛 see the point of 鈥榗rawling about in the fields鈥� any longer. Although I hadn鈥檛 completed the technical part of my training, I decided I might as well be more actively engaged in the war. During May of 1942 I volunteered for active service and joined a Medium Field Regiment R.A. at Bedford where they were mobilising for overseas, probably Africa, where we were taking heavy casualties and being pushed back into Egypt. This was a territorial regiment from Shropshire with their own non-commissioned officers. So I reverted to the rank of gunner for the time being. That didn鈥檛 bother me as we were not rank-conscious during the war. We were all in the same boat and part of a team. There was no room for anyone who couldn鈥檛 pull their weight, or who couldn鈥檛 be relied on in an emergency. We were a mixed bunch mainly from Shropshire, with a sprinkling of Scotch, Welsh, Londoners, Liverpudlians, Geordies and at least a couple of Irishmen that I was aware of. We later proved to be a good team operating as one. There was no other option in the circumstances, that is, if we were to have a chance of survival.

We spent our time in Bedford packing equipment and weapons ready for shipping. As we were new reinforcements, we had to be fitted into the team according to our ability. As outsiders (not from Shropshire) we would obviously be used as 鈥済un fodder鈥�. That meant humping ammunition and other unskilled work for a while, at least until we proved we were capable of better things. We had a nice little gun team of ten men consisting of a policeman, a coal miner, a watchmaker, a tailor and a market gardener. The rest of us were known as Swede bashers, being good folk from the country. Our sergeant was also a Swede basher, but he was getting on a bit in years. He was really too old for the job he had to do. We respected him, and more or less carried him as long as possible. He was eventually 鈥榬elieved鈥� and given some job at the wagon lines (back at base).

We had embarkation leave of one week. I don鈥檛 remember anything about that leave except the morning I returned. Two Irishmen (that I know of) never did return. I was a little surprised to see Dave Hawe arrive back. Mum and Dad insisted on taking me to the railway station in Tullow. They were very good and never discussed the war or asked any questions. I just managed to hold myself together until they were gone, before having a good cry. I found myself on the train with Jack Doyle from the Crablane who was also returning from leave. He was in the Irish Guards. I was glad of the company and we carried on a conversion on the way to Dublin without even asking where the other was going. We didn鈥檛 discuss things like that during the war as 鈥渨alls had ears鈥� in those days. We parted in Dublin and after a very rough crossing I rejoined my regiment in Bedford.

In July 1942 we joined a train at Bedford for Liverpool and embarked on HMT Sibajak. Due to ships engine trouble we disembarked and returned to Bedford. As we arrived in Bedford station the Germans were bombing the positions where our equipment had been a few days previously. Fortunately we had no casualties. We just kept ourselves busy doing very little while waiting for the word to embark again.

Shortly after that we arrived at Birkenhead and joined a very big convoy of ships sailing for about ten weeks through the Atlantic which was full of German submarines at that time, round the Cape of Good Hope and through the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. I didn鈥檛 like being at sea at all and this was a long voyage. The convoy zigzagged through the Atlantic to avoid being detected, changing course frequently. We sometimes wondered where on earth we could be going. Some days the ships would be tossed about like corks on the massive waves, pointing straight up to the sky one minute and down into the sea the next. 鈥淲ater water every where and not a drop to drink鈥�. Other days it would be so calm like a duck pond, a very large one without sides. No sign of land, no idea where we were and no idea where we were going. We had life-boat practice at least once a day, and sometimes at night. That was also a bit scary as we would get knocked about a lot while lowering the life boats, especially when the sea was rough and the ship was being tossed about like a cork. I never felt safe at sea and longed to get my feet on dry land where I felt I could defend myself.

I can鈥檛 remember what we had for meals, except that we always seemed to have prunes and custard for sweet. I can assure you that the food was not tasty and most of it went over the side of the ship either before or after eating it! We had one chap called Krieger (Jewish) who was sick for most of the voyage and ate very little except the prunes and custard.

We called at numerous places round the African coast. I think the first port of call was Gibraltar where we saw 鈥榯he flying fish鈥� but didn鈥檛 get the chance to see 鈥榯he Barbary Apes鈥�. Freetown was our next call. We didn鈥檛 see much there and were glad to get away from it. It鈥檚 said to be a bad place for malaria, and has a terrible climate. After that we crossed the Equator where we played the traditional games being dumped in the water painted etc. As we rounded the Cape of Good Hope at the Southern end of Africa the sea was very rough. Then we travelled on to Durban (South Africa) where we rested for four days at Claywood, a couple of miles outside the main town.

As we approached Durban we saw and heard a lady dressed all in white with a beautiful and powerful voice standing on the Quay singing all the Patriotic songs to the troops. The songs included 鈥淟and of hope and glory鈥�, 鈥淚 belong to Glasgow鈥�, 鈥淢en of Harlech鈥� and 鈥淚t鈥檚 a long long way to Tipperary鈥�. It was a great wartime morale booster. She was still there singing through her loud-hailer when we left Durban four or five days later. We didn鈥檛 know who she was at the time, but always referred to her as 鈥淭he Lady In White鈥�. Many years later I read in the papers that she was Perla Siedle Gibson, an international concert star, classical pianist and Royal Academy portrait painter. Apparently she never missed a vessel from 1940 to 1945. Even on the day she heard her son had been killed she was still on the quayside singing through her loud-hailer to the ships. She died in 1971.

While at Claywood we visited Durban, rode in the Rickshaws etc. and bought watches for a few pence from some characters who followed us round. They were not a good buy. There was plenty of opportunity to desert in South Africa. Top jobs were offered to soldiers who were prepared to jump ship. There were no takers from our Regiment as far as I know. I often wondered what happened to those who did take up the offer.

We re-embarked on HMT Ekma, a dirty little tub which seemed more like a cattle boat. At this stage we were not sure where we were going. It could still be Africa or Burma - the Germans and Italians or the Japs. As we sailed in a Northerly direction between the island of Madagascar and the mainland of Africa, it became clear that we were heading for the Middle East and not the Far East. Carrying on through the Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden to the port of Aden, where we refuelled. The climate in this area is not very nice. It used to be a punishment station for bad boys. We then continued through the Red Sea and disembarked at Port Suez, Egypt, at the southern end of the Suez Canal in October 1942. We proceeded to Almaza near Cairo, and then on to Alexandria. The Germans and Italians were now at El Alamein in Egypt, about thirty miles away, and expected in Alexandria any day. German flags were already flying in Alexandria.

Our first job was to dig in our guns on Alexandria docks under cover of darkness and lay our guns on a French Battleship in case she made a run for it. At that time it wasn鈥檛 clear which side some of the French Navy was on. As daylight broke and we boarded the battleship it turned out that their guns had been dismantled. It was just as well, as our five inch guns would have been no match for their fifteen inch gun which was pointing in our direction. We did have a good laugh about that. As we did our routine tests and made a few loud bangs by firing some blanks the German flags suddenly changed to Union Jacks.

We were not professional soldiers, just volunteers and national service men committed for the duration of the war. We came from all walks of life and had various skills to offer, so we had to be fitted into a team. The professional soldiers of the regular army had failed because they were unprepared and ill equipped compared to the enemy. It was now up to the part time volunteers and conscripts to have a go.

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