大象传媒

Memoirs of Lawrence Lake 1876169 Royal Engineers

The Middle East

I enlisted in the Royal engineers in November 1938, aged 19. I was coerced into this by a mate, who, like me was in a dead end job. My parents were surprised and I hope upset, but made no objections. I trained at the School of Military Engineering (Brompton Barracks, Chatham) for 18 months. This involved training in explosives, bridging, watermanship, fieldcraft and general small arms training. I managed home leave for Christmas, but did not know that this was to be my last at home for some few years. Early in 1939 I was aboard a troopship destination Egypt, quiet a prospect for someone who had not been further than Southend!

Through the Mediterranean and first sight of places like Gibraltar, Malta and Port Said. Disembarking at Port Said the abiding memory for me was the score of men refuelling the ship with coal. The air was thick with coal dust, and alive with the chanting of the gangs up and down planks into the hold, and these planks looked a bit dodgy to me.

We were deposited in Cairo in Abbassia Barracks, where we joined the 2nd. Field Company. R.E. which, we were soon to learn, was the oldest Field Company in the Army, having originated in Gibraltar. The heat was bearable but sunburn was inevitable. After a short period of acclimatisation we were shunted into the Western Desert at Mersa Matruh, to work on defences. The rank and file obviously did not know this, but the world was getting ready for war, and our Western neighbour, occupied by Italy, was potentially a threat to the British Forces.

During this time I was working as Pay Corporal (as having joined as a clerk it was reasonable to assume I would like to work thus). War broke out and I soon realised that I was desk-bound, seeing nothing but four walls all day. I relinquished this for the sake of my sanity. I joined the working sections and was soon happier doing the kind of jobs that were usually the task of an Engineer unit. Mersa Matruh itself was a beautiful township right on the coast, with a lagoon almost completely cut off from the main sea, and a large lake which we discovered later contained a large number of fish. Life here was literally the calm before the storm. We attempted to dig anti-tank ditches, but the sand was like water, and as fast as it was moved it slid back. It was, however, done eventually. Minefields were a difficult proposition. The land here was mainly of rock and we sometimes could do nothing but find a small crevice on the ground then insert the mine therein. We had to judge what weight of rock we shoved on the mine, because too much weight would be somewhat disastrous.
I can't believe that we did this! Familiarity breeds contempt?

A small body of us was detailed to put salt into the 'birs' (desert well) in the desert to the West, in order to deny the use of these wells to the enemy. Somewhere about this time Italy entered the war as an ally of Germany, and life became really hectic. Air raids became the norm over Matruh, and with complete air command the Savoias did apparently just what they wished and we would watch them most nights. Once they were met by some Gloucester Gladiators fighters, and were given a surprise. These small planes looked like moths around the bombers, but I remember they did destroy some of them.

Italian forces, heavily outnumbering British Forces, entered Egypt, and initially advanced as far as (if I remember rightly) Sidi Barrani, on the coast road. General Wavell, then Commander in Chief of the Allied forces in Egypt, mounted a counter attack and completely routed the invading armies, and captured many thousands of prisoners. My main memory of this time is of the thousands of prisoners winding down the escarpment at Solumn into imprisonment. They covered the whole of the serpentine road, and frankly, did not seem a bit unhappy! There was one black mass from top to bottom. I recall feeling a bit sorry for some of them but this feeling very soon went.

Further incursion into Libya by Allied armies was halted by German entry into the Balkans. Greece was being invested, and this presented a serious threat to the Allied rear. It meant weakening of British forces in the Desert in order to send aid to Greece. At the same time enemy forces were infiltrating into Vichy Syria, even closer to the British rear, so this resulted in decision to enter Syria. This was undertaken by Australian and British Forces. The Australian entered via the coast road, and the other British forces entered inland. The force I was with took the inland route through Reyak (I think) and saw there several Junkers 52 on the airport runway.
Vichy French forces presented fierce opposition at first, but surrendered some time in the middle of June as far as I can remember. I was quite relieved at this as the unit I was with was muttering something about a bayonet attack in the morning. We were moved into a small village on the mountain range between Syria and the Lebanon. Things were quite serene for a short while.
We were camped in a field of grapevines, and it was too easy to reach out and get some. We saw the grapes being 'trod', and wondered if we would be drinking wine after this.

I can only think that the powers that be did not know what to do with us for a while. For instance, we were marched into a barren stretch of desert and told to pick up all the stones we could find and mark out a road - a road to nowhere! Perhaps, someone after all these years has a better reason for this exercise? We did, however, visit some of the sights of the area, Allepo, Ohms, Damascus etc. I remember being in Damascus in the street called Straight (in the Bible) and a street tradesman had the audacity to offer me a bit of the cross on which Jesus died! I must have looked a right mug.

In Syria I managed to become ill with acute primary pneumonia (owing to the tent collapsing at night and awakening to find ourselves surrounded by snow) so I spent some time in hospital near Cairo. On return to my unit I was introduced to winter snow in Lebanon, which I never expected. It was so cold that water if dropped reached the ground as ice. We visited Mount Hermon and the Col des Cedres Mountains, quite an experience. Things were quiet, but not for long.

In Syria I managed to get my first taste of 'jenkers" (early morning drill as a punishment). Some of us were detailed to go to the Litani River to look at a composite bridge built by the Australians during the campaign. On the way back to camp it was suggested a swim in the sea off Beirut. We all went. On arrival at the camp we found the unit packed and ready to depart. This meant trouble for some of us. Naturally 'some' included me. I was charged with something or other and was given seven days Confined to Barracks. Most of the evenings I played football for the unit, but on the fifth day the officer who had given me C.B. queried my name on the team sheet. It was pointed out that he had signed the team sheet himself each day. (Some time later this officer asked my if I knew why he had given me C.B. I replied I did not. He then said it was because it was my (his) birthday. What a way to mar a bloke's conduct sheet!

We returned to the Delta, and were soon aboard H.M.S. JERVIS destroyer, due West for Tobruk, where we were to relieve the Australian forces which had been under siege for some time, denying the use of this vital facility to the Germans. We duly docked and quickly unloaded, and I marvelled at the skill of the Navy in the way in which they manoeuvred their boats - I'd better say ships - into the harbour. The Australian Forces were to be sent home to defend the area against Japanese intrusion into the area.

We were soon ensconced in a broken down building on the hills overlooking the harbour. On our first encounter with the enemy we were attacked by a solo ME.100 which swooped out nowhere and hit our Quarter Masters tent, doing quite a bit of damage and inflicting on us our first casualty in Tobruk. While this took place I was myself sitting on our ramshackle toilet, a plank and not much else, and could see the bullets hitting the ground and coming, thankfully to my right. I made sure that when the plane made its next run I had finished what I was doing and in a place of comparative safety. Dive- bombers visited the port every night, but we were somewhat safe, on the hills above the actual port. Our bed - times were spent well below ground in a huge cave.

A stream of defence posts encircled Tobruk, and I found myself in post No. 88, which was astride the Bardia road to the eastern side of the port. I had about 22 booby traps to maintain, and a 500lb. Bomb ready to explode if needed. These had to be checked each morning. This meant walking round the position and counting them. One morning I was a bit worried to realise that I had missed one. No sooner had I thought this than I heard a 'click ' and knew that I had set off one of my own traps, which happened to be a "flower pot" mine. This when set off exploded into the air and disintegrated into many pieces. I immediately pushed my helmet onto the back of my head and turned my back on the explosion. Luckily I saw the centre part of the bomb fly past my head and the rest of it managed to avoid me! Lucky and more so! I replaced this one with a 69 grenade with a very well set pin.
The break out was now upon us, I found myself attached to the Kings Dragoon Guards in armoured cars. Attacking an enemy post we were hit by a shell which entered the exact place where I normally sat.
For this particular operation I was with the signaller- the wireless operator at the rear of the car. This shell buzzed around inside the car glowing red hot, then exited without hitting anyone- another bit of luck! We were blown up twice on return to Tobruk, no one was injured though.

The siege was lifted and I found myself on the way back to the Delta as an advanced party preparing for the unit's return to the area. This was a period of R and R, I suppose, but before long we boarded the 'Nieuw Amsterdam ' a Dutch liner en route for where? Through the Bitter Lakes, the Red Sea and out onto the Indian Ocean due South. Speculation as to our destination was rife, but we soon guessed this when we saw the setting sun, which indicated Ceylon. Ceylon, rather Colombe came into view as the shape of a large 'CEYLON FOR TEA' sign. We were welcomed by an old Vickers Vimy biplane, which did not augur well for the state of the island's defence.

The people seemed to welcome us and we were soon in our billets, which turned out to be an abandoned tea plantation site. The town in which we ended up was Peradeniya, some short distance from Kandy in the centre of the island. Kandy is a very important place with the "Golden Temple" said to hold a tooth of the Buddha (The best places in town were immediately put out of bounds to other ranks, of course). My unit was put to work getting the Botanical gardens in Perideniya ready for military use, building kitchens, cookhouses, etc. I think this later became H.Q. of the SEA command.
Our time was often spent in marching over the island, as a means of getting to know the people, I suppose. Off duty in the evenings we would get a rickshaw into Kandy. There were the usual diversions. On the return some of us would hire a rickshaw and run it back ourselves, much to the amusement of the owner. These vehicles were surprisingly easy to manage though I would not want to do it for a living.

During one march we entered dense jungle where daylight was turned into darkness by the intensity of the trees and undergrowth. Leaves on the floor were luminous and to help us keep some form of order we put some leaves on the back of the fellow in front of us. This may sound a bit far fetched but its true. Water bottles needed filling and in desperation we ejected an uncooperative buffalo from his watering hole and used his water. You can guess what was in the water.
We survived by using our water purifying tablets and none of us had any after effects. Shortly after this incident we came across a huge tank (lake) of beautiful fresh water. On this trek, whilst having a short halt, we were dumfounded to be greeted by a native (I assume he must have been a Tamil) who prostrated himself in front of us as often depicted in films, etc. He was immediately told to get up and convince him this was not 'on'. Later we were told that this part of the Island was not over friendly, and left alone.

Easter arrived and with it the Japanese. They staged air raids on Colombo, but got a hot reception from the R.A.F. with the recently arrived Hurricanes. The projected invasion did not transpire. When this occurred I was with a small party of R.E.s just off Trincomalee, where we had the bridge over the river prepared for demolition in case it became necessary. This bridge, of course, also carried the railway to the capital. We enjoyed swimming in the tidal river, and would watch for the incoming tide, in which many fish would swim. Often we fished by means of explosives, and caught plenty of large fish. We also must have fed many of the local villagers with the sacks of fish they took away with them. We were very popular with the young boys, who went away with smiles a mile wide, and a sack bulging with fish. We were also permitted to kill any animal which encroached on the railway line, and this resulted on one occasion in the meal of venison which was very welcome;

I acquired as a pet a small rhesus monkey, Sheila, who became, I dare say it, almost human. She would stay in a tree when we went out of camp. On the return she was almost always in the local teashop, begging bananas off the owner, who had now, became used to her.

We were sent to a post in the hills called Madagoda, a journey that sent us above the cloud line, and necessitated crossing some very dodgy bridges. Arriving there we discovered the place was swarming with ''horrible" leeches. These would climb into the smallest openings in clothing, and feast themselves until they swelled, then they could be felt. They would be found inside socks, trousers, boots, anywhere they shouldn't be. They also managed to get into the private parts of the body. We found the only way to dislodge them was to tickle them with a glowing cigarette end. This put me in a predicament, as I did not smoke, which meant promising the earth to someone if only he would lend me a fag! If they were pulled off they left a little bit behind, which could become septic. We tried soaping, greasing, but nothing deterred them. Often the only sign was a patch of blood seeping through some clothing. We were all very glad to leave Madagoda!

Time came for us to leave Ceylon. I had to leave Sheila behind and put her up into the trees when a tribe of monkeys was chattering above us. She climbed into their vicinity and was ejected - she emitted a shriek and bounded down towards me, alighting on my shoulder. I managed in the end to offload her to another unit that was staying on the island.

We were soon sailing round Southern India thence to Bombay, on the ship with the unit transport. Unloading we took the vehicles to our destination near Calcutta, where we stayed for some time. I, and a few others, was sent to a Signal Training Centre in Central India, where we were given a course in Morse Code, and taught to work several sorts of wireless sets. How long this lasted I can't remember, but on completion I was attached to the Leicestershire Regt, with two others from my Engineer Company. A green scorpion managed to sting me during this period, and I was in agony for some days. But it was not fatal...

In due course the whole unit commenced marching - to where we had no idea - Eventually we arrived at the foot of the Naga Hills among some Americans who were constructing the Ledo Road. The hills looked, and were, foreboding, and when the Americans realised we intended to cross into Burma via these hills they said, "you'll never make it". After this we would have done it on one leg. Steps had to be cut into the slope to enable the mules to ascend the hill, and going was such that on the first day I think we achieved about two miles. We all had large knives with which to slash our way through the thick growth, but as I personally was at or near the rear with the signal equipment I did not have to do much slashing. By now, of course, we knew what was on, and continuous marching didn't give us much time for thought. We descended into the valleys, climbed hills, and then repeated the dose, day after day. We were supposed to have a supply drop every three days, by Dakota planes, and by and large this was adhered to.

We were living on American 'K' rations, which were meals condensed into tablet form, containing everything necessary in order that we could do the task to which we were committed. These rations were packed in a wax paper, which made it easy to light a fire when we needed to. Most of us had a tin somewhere in which we would brew up, tea or coffee. We would march for an hour then rest for ten minutes. I think, later on, we marched for two hours. Often we descended into the valley via a stream, which didn't do our boots any good. Sleep was propped up against the nearest tree, then lapse into unconsciousness for what seemed no time at all before we were on the move. We did some miles then had breakfast. Then we did some more miles. Heading towards the objective, which was certainly not known to me! We reached the banks of the Chindwin, which we had to cross.

Planes arrived towing gliders, which were released and landed, I think, on a sandbank in the middle of the river. The gliders unloaded boats, and were lifted into the air again by the planes trailing hooks. These hooks connected with a cable strung between two poles, and lifted the gliders away. We crossed the river, the hardest job was I believe to get the mules over, but with much snorting and blowing all were over in due course. Over the river things carried on much as usual - march, rest, march, rest... Somewhere along the line we encountered a Sepoy heading for India with a load of Japanese leaflets showing British troops in Singapore, prisoners, and some of British troops mistreating native women. This fellow was persuaded to remain with us.

While awaiting a supply drop a few of us were huddled together on the edge of the drop zone. A huge flash of flame and a shower of sparks missed us by about three yards. A roll of barbed wire had been dropped on us. What we needed with barbed wire I cannot imagine.

A force of Burmese Liberation Army and Japs now halted our progress, and after a fierce engagement this obstacle was easily overcome. During this battle our C.O. received a smashed forearm, but refused to be evacuated. Some enemy personnel were captured here and were evacuated. It was said that they assumed they would be thrown out of the plane.

We continued towards our main objective, which was Indaw Airfield. Things did not go according to plan, as another column which was intended to take part was heavily attacked and lost most of its equipment. This meant our column was on its own. Our initial approach to the drome was not successful, and a withdrawal was made to a position astride the railway that served the North. A large force attacked our position but was repulsed, having suffered heavy losses. This action was repeated but again beaten back. For some time we were under attack, but, with the war with the Japanese in Burma going well, we were ordered to withdraw to Aberdeen airstrip, probably for return to India. The whole conception of Chindit activities was now under scrutiny, and with the death of General Wingate the effectiveness of these columns was debateable.

Withdrawing to Aberdeen whilst having a halt, a large python slithered from a tree and parked itself right around the lehgs of the mule carrying the signals equipment. To shoot it was to give our position away, so it was dispatched by bayonet and before we left, some clever chap in the platoon, who wanted the skin, had skinned it. When we left the body was still moving about, it was a bit eerie.
Did I mention the Rain? Oh! I must have forgotten...

We radioed for a plane to evacuate the wounded, then, after they had been picked up proceeded to head towards Aberdeen Airstrip. Arriving, we were each issued with a loaf of bread, yes, "BREAD", a tin of bacon some jam and butter. Bacon and jam sandwich, a speciality!

Planes were coming at regular intervals to evacuate us to India, and in due course we were still in Sillet airdrome in India, Bangladore in Southern India was our next home, waiting we hoped, repatriation. We had a quiet stay here, then my Demob. Number -26, arrived and was soon en route to Doolali, nr Bombay, awaiting a ship to England. This was boarded in Bombay, and sailed through the Red Sea, Suez Canal, the Mediterranean sea, then fair way west across the Atlantic, eventually docking in Glasgow.

The journey up the Clyde was an experience, with pipe and bagpipes playing along side the green fields. It was an emotional time for most of us, indeed one of our party could see his house from the ship. We were given, I think two weeks ' leave from here, and this was obviously another emotional reunion for my family years away. Dear old Halifax welcomed me for some time, then I was posted to a company near Norwich, engaged in dismantling beach defences in Gt. Yarmouth. Things were totally different to what I had become used to. There was nothing happening to make one think. There was no 'war' here. It seemed unreal. This lasted for some time then, guess what!

I was sent to Halifax again. A further posting quickly arrived, to the British Liberation Army to another Field Company in British 2ND army. I stayed with this company, clearing verges of mines,
etc until we reached the Rhine, and prepared for crossing points. I was summoned to O.C.s office during this operation and was told the suprising news that I was to be sent back to England as I had not been at home long enough before being posted over seas again. This shook me but I accepted it without much deliberation.

I arrived in England and of course found myself in Halifax once more. I was sent off for a refresher course on the usual Field Company activities and enjoyed this time. I was with a mate who had been in the same companies as I for some years. I must confess that we took advantage of things here.
My mate (I will call him "C") would stay in bed in the morning and miss first parade. One of us would grunt a reply to his name being called and "C" would emerge some time after. This went well until one day the order was given " Tallest to the right, shortest to the left " We were sunk, "C" was over six feet tall, so his absence was immediately recognised. The Orderly Officer came to me and accused me of answering for him, I denied this and to be truthful, this time someone else had answered, but not me.
Of course I was not believed and both "C" and I were put on a charge. "C" when told decided he would plead dysentery. He took a dose of chocolate laxative. We were told to attend the M.O. that morning. Why both of us I do not know. Anyway, "C" decided to tell the Doctor the truth. The doctor was a civilian, and apparently had a sense of humour, as he gave "C" a dose of castor oil, which got "C" off the 'hook' but it got him somewhere else!

Posted once more to a unit in the Lake District, which was a training unit for recruits. This was a good time for me as a lot of training involved roaming over the fells, which suited me down to the ground. The countryside was beautiful though the water in the streams was too cold to drink.
I was given a Sports and P.T. course prior to "demob" and became P.T. instructor. This suited me, as I have always been keen on fitness.
I was demobbed in March 1946, and left the army with a wealth of experience, but had to adapt to civilian life once more. This was not as easy as I thought. I had to find a job, and sometime in the future, a wife. My youth had been lost in the last years, and it would take some time to get used to being a civilian again.

How I managed this is another story...

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