大象传媒

September 1938.Yes,with all the euphoria surrounding later and more notable exploits,this date gets very little mention,for this was a part in our island's history we would like to forget.
Too shameful I expect.This was the time when we had to 'sell an Ally,down the river'.
Yes,it is difficult to imagine that we would do such shameful thing.But we did.
We had so let our defences get into such a state that we could neither run nor fight,yet we were making all sorts of promises to people who relied on our honour, who trusted us to defend them.
Unlike us they had prepared themselves for any aggression by building up their defences against attack. But the attack with which they were faced was far heavier than this little nation could resist,but were prepared to die rather than give up their newly won independence .In a last minute attempt to halt the progress to war,they entrusted our Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain with the negotiations to achieve that end.
He bought time for us to defend ourselves by sacificing that little nation.
Chechoslovakia.
There were those of us who saw the way things were going and made our own preparations.I,a fifteen year old boy recently left school did this by volunteering for my local Air Defence unit of the Territorial Army.
My unit,the 166 HAA Battery RA had been Embodied and we were to assemble at our War Site,which for me was a field behind Rainham Church in Kent not far from my home in Haigh Avenue,Gillingham.
And so,here I was, stuck out in a field,rain pouring down. We were still wearing 1st World War Artillery uniforms. That is Breeches,Putees,Tunic and Short Overcoat.
We had been brought here in a Bull-dog lorry,yes! you've guessed it.1st WW vintage. It was pouring with rain and we had to march through knee-high grass to get to our encampment,consequently we were soaked from the knees down. It was pitch dark,with my mates crowding around, the only light was little pin prick some distance away towards which we were marching.
When we arrived it was to learn that the tents hadn't. We just stood around wondering what was to happen next. Wondering what we were supposed to do.For a start we had no guns.
As we waited for the delivery of our Bell tents,left over from the First World War (we were going to get used to that 'left over from the First World War bit!).
Hullo,there's are new face approaching,I wonder what he wants? Oh! he does'nt want anything.He is, in fact, offering us the use of his garage.It's just across the Maidstone road. We did'nt hesitate,as many as could piled into his garage.There was,of course,no bedding, we just lay on the floor like sardines. Though I soon, soaking wet as I was, dropped off to sleep. However not for long because there was an uncomfortable lump across my chest,it was an arm.I shouted out 'Who's arm is this and threw it away,only to feel a tugging at my shoulder and realised that it was mine.It was completely dead.
Came the morning,the people in the house had very generously provided us with a cup of tea.And we returned to our Gun-site.
I'm afraid we could not have looked very soldierly,and what impression we made on the civilians I shudder to think.
Our tents had arrived so we set to putting them up.Palliases too,all we needed was some straw to fill them and we'd be on easy street. Which a near-by farmer, taking pity on us, offered.
Cook-house tent had to go up first and we all wanted to help with that.Our cook Fred West, was an ex-regular,used to working with Field-kitchens of First World War vintage,and he soon had some soup going for us.The Army had issued us with eating irons (as they came to be called,that is a galvanised Metal plate,knife, fork, spoon and a little bowl for our tea and which doubled as a shaving pot.Later we would be issued with an enamelled mug WITH a handle (such luxury!).
The rain cleared at last and we could start to get dry.I 'won' the job of digging the latrines (toilets).My civvy hands were soon covered in blisters and somebody took pity on me and finished off the digging. The latrines consisted of a trench about eight feet long and 18 inches wide,over which was suspended a pole propped upon two pieces of timber at either end. the trick was not to make the centre pole too long otherwise too much weight would cause it to break with disasterous consequences for those sitting on it. This was all First World War stuff,even the boilers were the old sawyer type,in fact,you can see specimens of them in photographs taken during the Crimean War!
After a few days I was given a few hours leave.I did'nt live far away so was off like a shot.My poor mother got a shock when I walked through our kitchen door in Haigh Avenue, Gillingham. Having seen all those young lads going off to war in 1914-18 and how few came back,she must have been worried sick..Well,here I was 'What's for tea, Ma?'.
How callous can youth be,I never thought of the folks left behind,just the adventure in front. While on leave I went to the pictures,I saw Neville Chamberlain,waving his little bit of toilet paper,declaring it meant, 'Peace in our time'. My re-action was 'I don't think' and metaphoricaly started sharpening my bayonet.
Our guns never did arrive,but on our Firing camp next year we practiced on the new 3'7" mobile and 4'5" Static.By 1939 I had graduated from a callow youth till,at seventeen years old,and still on Boy Service, I was No.1 of one of those 4.5"s, the most modern Ack-Ack gun in the world.

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