大象传媒

At the end of April 1945 HMS Volage Ships Company was up at Naval Camp Assigii, starboard watch got back into routine and port watch proceeded on a fortnights leave sampling the hospitality of South African white farmers.

An order was posted for volunteers to be trained as anti aircraft gunners from us younger lads. It was considered that the war in Europe was coming to an end, our permanent AA crews being older and having served longer in the Royal Navy, would be eligible for early discharge to civil street at an earlier date. First in, first out.

There is an old saying don鈥檛 volunteer, but for me having since childhood been interested in aircraft and grown up with Tangmere RAF, Ford Civil then Fleet Air Arm Aerodromes in Sussex only a stones throw either way from where I lived.

I could identify many types of British, American and German aircraft having witnessed them from working in local fields and from aircraft magazines.

So I joined the AA class and was instructed on orlickons, Pom Poms, Bofors guns, all close range weapons and their ammunitions, plus how to strip guns in case of misfire and blockages, and how to dismantle and reassemble again. One aspect of the training was for the class of participants to go into a dome building, inside a cine camera standing in the centre of the floor, a circular floor some twenty feet diameter, showing films of German and Japanese aircraft diving at a pupil with an imitation gun also in the centre of the dome.

Pupils had to aim at the diving plane the gun would shine a red spot on the ceiling of the dome at the precise place the pupil was aiming at. One has to consider the speed of the pane, how much to fire ahead of the plane coming straight at you or a plane at right angles to you and give the right amount of deflection.

The instructor sat with the other pupils behind and could see the red spot and if the aim is correct or not, the gun operator cannot. But on one film the gunners could see the red spot; the instructor on seeing each gunner getting their aim correct said 鈥淚鈥檓 going to have a go鈥�. The practice gun film secret was out.

Going back to Volage on new AA guns that had been mounted for gun drill, I remember I had a problem getting one drill right, so we had to do the drill over and over to the annoyance of fellow mates on course. Finally I achieved the drill OK. With exams over to my surprise I passed; Top of the Class.

I remember looking in a jewellers shop in the city, there in the window a seven jewel ladies wrist watch priced at 5.00 pounds South African currency in Stirling then, I thought how cheap it was to UK and wouldn鈥檛 I like to buy it for my mum. But I was broke so I wrote home asking to send me 5.00 pounds without saying what I needed it for; sure enough I received a postal order by return.

I purchased the watch from a nice girl shop assistant (I wished to ask her out) but I had no other monies and I hesitated, too shy at that age and remembering my mum鈥檚 words, the man must pay to take a girl out. My mother received the watch that I purchased and wore it for many years, she passed it on to my late wife and my daughter has it now.

The ships company heard on the radio that VE day was being celebrated in London; it pleased us to think that our families will not be going through any more bombings.

Some of us decided to go into the city, making our way to City Hall after a drink in the Play House, a crowd of white South Africans were there and we joined them as there seemed to be no official function taking place. Taking the initiative, us lads climbed on to a balcony where there were two old cannons, manning the guns four or five on each we started to do gun drill on them, each of us calling out numbers as on a real drill. Acting the fool had the crowd rocking with laughter, suddenly we realised that the war was not over for us, the Japanese were still fighting and we decided to go back to Assigii.

Jock, Eric, Ginger Johnny and myself had an invitation to go to Mrs Howells for tea, she lived in Durban. We jumped on a white鈥檚 only tram, we had tea and homemade cakes and met her daughter who was a school teacher, she was interested as to what part of the UK we came from. Eric told us more of his experiences being an undertaker and the calamities his firm had within the profession and had us all laughing. We said our farewells on a most enjoyable time.

There was excitement in the camp with another fortnights leave. Jock, Eric and Ginger decided, as had a return invitation, to go back to the Smythe鈥檚 Farm. As for me, being an inquisitive traveller I chose to go with another shipmate Ken Ives, to a family up at Pretoria where he had been with last time.

On the overnight train journey we passed through Johannesburg and on to Pretoria, sharing with Cape Town as the capital cities of South Africa. We were met at Pretoria station by the Bessans family. They had two young boys, eight and ten. We were taken to their home and made welcome and were soon playing with the boys, which we were asked to do many times by them.

Home cooking again, the family wanted to know about myself, already knowing Kens background. We were given the front door key so as not to disturb the household if we came in late. We had been paid a month鈥檚 wages and felt rich although both of us were not heavy drinkers.

First things first, have a Lions beer (the brew up here) and find ourselves around the city. We were surprised as being in uniform we had the delight of a girl running up to us and touching our collars for luck, we must have been the only sailors in the city, before running away again, sigh.

We climbed the road up to Government House, there were fine views from up there all around especially the road we came up, looking down from the citadel, there were two rows of Jacaranda trees in bloom, an avenue of blue flowers.

One Sunday the Bessans took us by car down to a pleasure park on the road to Johannesburg, there was a boating lake so we had to take the boys for a row (didn鈥檛 get seasick), a small amusement playground, a picnic lunch, ice creams, and a tea house. It was a great day out with the family.

Up at Roberts Heights (named after a British Boar war army camp), a short drive out of Pretoria, stand a Vortrekker Memorial to the Boar families who trekked up from Cape province in the nineteenth century by ox cart to settle in the Transvaal. The war had stopped work for the duration so that it was unfinished. Ken and I went to see it and thought it was most interesting, embossed panels in stone of the epic journey the families endured.

On another Sunday we all drove up to the hills where our family had a land plot to grow their own vegetables and flowers and with a hut so they could provide tea, with a packed lunch it was home from home. I was called on once more for advice about growing.

Meeting some older people we would be asked 鈥淗ow is the old country?鈥� they had emigrated to South Africa some 30 or 40 years ago from the UK. They wanted to know where we were from and to tell us about their home town.

Time was not on our side and once more it was time to say our goodbyes to our hosts the Bessans family, we promised to send sailor hats to the boys, which we did on getting back to Durban. We were sent a photo of the boys wearing the hats.

On another visit to see Mrs Howard, I went alone this time; her and her daughter entertained me to tea and more home cooking. I was going to miss the home cooking back at sea. I was requested to go with the daughter to meet her class at school, I declined still being shy, 60 years on I wish I had accepted, Oh well!!

A chit came into our hut summoning me to be part of a guard, of a Petty Officer and another rating, to take a prisoner to Chokee (prison). The defaulter had gone AWOL (absent without leave), he tried to stay over longer on his hospitality leave, he was picked up by the South African police and brought back to Durban.

Arriving at the prison we went in to hand over the prisoner, I noticed other prisoners double marching around the parade ground with rifles over their heads. Forty years on I met an old shipmate (could not remember his name) at a reunion, he told me he was a bad boy and went to prison in Durban for AWOL, Yes, I said I was the one who took you there, to his amazement.

Come the middle of June the ships company left Assigii camp, back to our ship we were still getting shore leave with overnight pass. Ginger Johnny, two other mates and myself had some beers along Marina Drive, we tried to take a short cut through to the main square and noticing a large door open we looked in, it was a biscuit factory. We were beckoned in by native workers to watch the biscuits being made, the white foreman shook our hands and we had some hot biscuits to taste.

Back out in the street we came across an open grass park where there must have been 50 or 60 Zulu men having what you would call a jamboree. Noticing 4 sailors who must have looked lost, we were invited to sit down on some rugs on the ground with their tribal chiefs. For a moment us matloes wondered what was going to happen to us. The chiefs and warriors were dressed with face painting, grass skirts, anklets, assigii (spears) and shields for a war dance. We were reassured by a chief in English that we would be OK. The whole ensemble started to chant, raising and lowering their voices. The dancing commenced pounding their feet on the ground, believe you me, the noise of the pounding from a multitude of feet on the ground, vibrated the ground under us with a noise like thunder and a red sky background to set the scene.

The warriors brandishing their spears and shields came towards the chiefs and us guests we hoped. Wheeling around the open park, coming at us again and again, the all was quiet. Thinking it was the best time to exit, with thank you's to every Chief. We had been fortunate to witness a ceremony to entertain royalty. Today Ginger Johnny and myself still talk about it, another of life鈥檚 memories.

Working one morning on ship on dock side I noticed about 30 native civil prisoners ambling along the jetty accompanied by one white prison warden, plus three native guards with whips. One prisoner stepped out of line to pick up a fag end, a whip thrashed him on the shoulder, he got his fag end for his enjoyment.

Some shipmates who went to Mafikeng on leave were roughed up in a bar by young white Afrikaans; others came back with similar stories, for no reason whatsoever.

A buzz went around the ship, we were sailing tomorrow, shore leave cancelled no shore leave tonight. Some of our crew didn鈥檛 have the chance to say their last goodbyes; many hearts would be broken on board and ashore. As it was three of our crew had gone AWOL, perhaps today still living in South Africa on farms or in the towns or cities.

Strange it was good to get out of sea, back in routine again, watch keeping etc. We had the company of HMS Raider, fellow Destroyer, sailing back to Trincomalee from Symonds Town Naval Base (Cape Town). Testing guns, myself on bofor AA guns No 1 Captain of gun, we dropped a depth charge overboard and both ships picked up dead and stunned fish for tasty meals.

We arrived at Seychelles Islands going into the bay to oil ship. No shore, no joy!! Feeling the aftermath of Durban highlights, arriving back at Trincomalee we wondered what was in store for the future months in our war out here?

Lofty John Mills

For the next chapter in John's story please go to: A8888629

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