大象传媒

Saturday Feb. 5th, 1944

So this is Aden - the terminus of the Anglo-Iranian Pipe Line - the wartime end, which at one time emptied itself into tankers in the Persian Gulf. Aden boasts a clean and neat harbour, quiet, with the steep barren cliffs rising nearly straight from the harbour edge.
We arrived here at four o鈥檆lock pm and today has been full of events. Gunfire practice which shook every conceivable loose object on the ship, animate and inanimate. We travelled minus convoy from Suez to Aden and our speed was very much increased. Soon after the gunfire practice, which was in all events like a daylight firework display, we saw a school of porpoises jumping, half curling themselves, in the air and falling with a plop in the foaming wake of our ship. They were quite near and didn鈥檛 appear scared. Possibly they objected to our intrusion and noise in their native home.
We past several small islands early this morning-to the naked eye they appeared desolate and uninhabited and for all the world like tops of mountains, rocky and rugged, peeping out of the calm sea.
Two cargo ships passed going in the direction of Suez. The only two ships we鈥檝e seen since leaving there.
Very soon after we dropped anchor in Aden鈥檚 small harbour - there aren鈥檛 more than fifty buildings in Aden itself. There isn鈥檛 very much in Aden in any sphere for that matter. However soon after arriving, two very decrepit barges came out to greet us and into one a hospital casualty was disembarked from our sailing 鈥渉ome鈥�. He looked very ill but smiled as he was lowered overboard.
In the harbour - in the deep water channel itself, were half a dozen buoys at a distance from each other bearing the name 鈥淎nglo Iranian Oil Coy鈥�. From these were floating flexible tubes. One of these was connected to our 鈥渙ld lady鈥� as we now call the troopship and from this floating pipeline she obtained succour.
There were no beggars here - only fast little naval boats scurrying about the harbour.
In the late evening by the light of arc lamps hung down the side of the ship two huge barges loomed near. From these about 100 Indian troops clambered on board-bound as we are for India. They were Gurkhas - smart and clean, very unlike the Lascars and Indian Labour Corps (IASC) which we already have on board. They didn鈥檛 have anything in common with the other Indian personnel but were helpful to us by describing their native India. Several other troops also came on board and they, like their countrymen, were silent and humble, keeping themselves to themselves. The night closed on the quiet twinkling lights of Aden, cooler than it has been since we left Suez and thankful we are for that. My body hasn鈥檛 been dry for days, wet and sticky with ever-expiring perspiration. A perpetual Turkish bath only no cleansing relief.

Sunday Feb. 6th, 1944

Left Aden early this morning in convoy which had arrived overnight; no deck for recreation now-the Gurkhas have that as their living quarters; no smoking on deck now after blackout. Smoking allowed on mess decks until 8.30pm i.e. from blackout commencing time.
In the evening one can see our naval escorts silhouetted on the skyline, the wake of the ship bubbling in the moonlight. A truly glorious sight.
Today we had our first free issue of mineral waters and ice. It was very refreshing and provided the only cooling moment of the day.
Today exhausted our supply of sweets and biscuits from the ship鈥檚 canteen-fellows had grown tired of chocolate etc but the biscuits were a welcome addition to our rations.
Forgive the frequent blobs of ink - my pen too is perspiring. The heat isn鈥檛 quite so intense now but it鈥檚 hard to imagine this is only January. People at home will be shivering with cold while I鈥檓 perspiring in thin gym shorts, no stockings and gym shoes. The feeling is the sooner we get to India the better. Life is very routine, troopship packed - hesitate to imagine the chaos if we were attacked successfully.

Saturday Feb. 12th, 1944

Nothing of any outstanding interest has occurred this week until tonight. We are now about to enter Bombay harbour and though tonight we anchor on the outskirts, one can see the twinkling harbour lights. I鈥檓 rather homesick, and I鈥檓 thinking of the time when I maybe anchoring outside Liverpool harbour, Southampton - no matter which port - as long as it will be a British one I鈥檒l be happy. It鈥檚 the first time I鈥檝e felt homesick since I鈥檝e been on board and I guess it鈥檚 the sight of activity, sorting of kits, handing-in of life jackets, life-lights, orders and dress for disembarkation. Confusion is filling the air with uncertainty. Perhaps that鈥檚 the analysis of my homesickness.
We鈥檝e now arrived at our destination - Bombay, India. Land of mystery, discontent, famine and religious strife. I鈥檓 wondering where we鈥檒l go. We aren鈥檛 to quit the boat until Monday and I鈥檓 afraid that before that date my narrative must close. Time and duties will not permit a description of Bombay to be included. However, I am hoping to continue at irregular intervals this 鈥渄iary鈥� and Bombay鈥檚 welcome will be the start of same.
In many ways our voyage has appeared a very short one yet dwelling on the events that have occurred, it seems ages since we left Liverpool - it鈥檚 exactly four weeks, two days and ten hours ignoring the difference in Eastern time with that of Greenwich.
Tonight I鈥檓 remembering the various incidents that have proved to be our brighter incidents in a month of a routine stereotype existence. Of how I wrote all those letters and how much consolation I derived from writing them; of the laughable things that have cheered us up and have been in keeping with the environment here. Our journey is over now.
Tomorrow we鈥檒l be docking about two pm and Monday at 4pm we are to board a train for an S.T.C. so we hear - probably Mhow.
The harbour is full of ships; vessels of all types hold a lonely vigil outside Bombay appearing to hesitate whether to enter or sail away.
Tonight we have to wear our long KD.s - no shorts allowed after blackout as Bombay is a malarial area. Sleeves to be rolled down too. It鈥檚 stifling below decks and smoking is not permitted. We all are waiting for the time when we can settle down in our new station and have a job to do that is consistent with our trades. I鈥檓 hoping to receive some mail soon- it鈥檚 been so long since I last had any that the thrill of pleasure on opening a letter seems to be forgotten.
Our English money was handed in yesterday and a receipt given for each of our individual amounts. Today sometime we are to be issued with the corresponding value in rupees. A rupee is worth 1/6d in English money. There are 16 annas to a rupee and hence one assumes an anna to be just over 1d.
When we have our next pay-day we are allowed one rupee for 1/4d - hence by this special Army concession rate of exchange our annas are worth exactly 1d each.
Here I must close this chronological narrative. It is by no means complete in every detail but I鈥檒l be able to elucidate on any points should it be necessary.
At the earliest opportunity I鈥檓 going to continue my story - probably written at odd intervals in a strange land.
India, heat, sweat, mystery, religion - what does she offer? That is our main question and we are forever asking ourselves it tonight, there is no answer yet.
For the moment-Au revoir and come on Bombay - let鈥檚 be seeing you.

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