大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by (Helen Smith) on behalf of (John Rawlings) and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

Chapter Eleven

DEMOB

The rumours of major changes within the company became reality when I was officially informed that the company was to be reconstructed. Officers and other ranks with Age and Service ratings of 24 and under would be posted together with the physical and unfit. Replacements would be from higher ratings. Everyone had been graded in accordance with a War Office formula taking age and length of service as principal factors. The intention was to provide a basis for demobilisation which was fair and reasonable. Over the next few weeks there was a constant movement out of those affected but little inward posting. Our unwelcome OC had left us some time before and Dicky Daw had not been replaced so I was now acting OC and Second in command. This was not so bad as it sounded as with the start of the reconstruction our transport activities had virtually ceased. In due course, I reported that all postings out had been completed with one exception - Captain Rawlings. Little notice was taken of this oversight and I sought Dicky鈥檚 advice at BAOR HQ. He was on Christian name terms with the Brigadier responsible for postings and when we met him it was all 鈥淒icky and Roger鈥� as they chatted and I felt left out. Eventually my problem was raised. Briefly, I was the only one left in the company in the lower A/S of 24 and under who had not been posted and I wanted to know why. The brigadier snorted with disbelief and checked his records which clearly stated that my number was 26. Dicky won the argument by telling his 鈥渇riend鈥� that he would vouch for my number as he had calculated the A/S figures when he was with our company. Furthermore his own number was the same as mine and he had commented on the fact at that time. The Brigadier looked me full in the face and said 鈥渇or the time being your number is amended to 24 but this will be checked by the War Office in London. If I find that you have misinformed me you will be on the fastest transport I can find going to the Far East!鈥� We were still at war with the Japanese. Then in a softer voice he asked, 鈥淲here would you like to be posted鈥�? I chose a strangely named company as it was near BAOR and I would be able to renew my friendship with Dicky.
My posting was to a Station Maintenance Company which seemed to be a 鈥渙ne off鈥� creation. Its function was to repair vehicles too badly damaged to be repaired by the units own workshops. In the speed of advance, maintenance had been sacrificed and many vehicles needed major overhaul. On reporting, I was met by the officer whose role I was to take over, as he was shortly due for demobilisation. By a strange co-incidence I had served with him previously in the early days of the war but where and when I cannot remember now. The OC of my new company was quite elderly and had been in the motor racing business in peace time. In no way was he a soldier but his mechanical knowledge had brought him into the army to do work which to him was a hobby. It was easy to work with him and my short time at this, my last posting, suited me well. The HQ was in Herford but the main, and I think, the only workshop was in Berlin. I joined the OC on his periodical visits to the workshop and his skill at the wheel was quite remarkable. He seemed to have a sixth sense, if only by the way he talked to the vehicle.
It was a cold winter morning when we set out for Berlin and the roads were covered in light snow and frost. We were on the autobahn travelling at some sixty mph when the car began to slide. He tried to correct it but not very successfully. At this stage he addressed the car 鈥渟o that鈥檚 the way you want to play it. Ok its fine by me, so do it yourself, you are on your own鈥�. He then took his hands off the steering wheel, took out a packet of cigarettes, lit up and then took over again.
The workshop had some one hundred engineers and a couple of officers and machinery of every kind with hoists, cranes, inspection pits etc and there was a steady flow of wrecks arriving each day. On one of my visits, I took the opportunity to get into the city through. what was later to be called 鈥淐heck point Charlie鈥�. The streets were deserted and dirty, with few pedestrians and an overall sense of gloom. There was nothing to be seen in what was the main shopping district and we moved into the government area. The atmosphere was no different but we managed to get into what I believe was the Chancellery. The main point of interest was a great hall at the end of which was a grand stage above which was a huge eagle in bronze set against a background of marble walls. It had been looted but the stage and its background still spoke of grandeur and discipline. Next door was another government building. On the top floor was a large room filled with rack upon rack of a multitude of military and other medals. Many were strewn over the floor. I must admit that I picked up three or four of the most interesting ones including a silver cross with the Nazi emblem in the centre. It was made to be worn as a brooch. I was to recall this medal room many years later when we were living in Cardiff. I gave this particular brooch to Muriel as a joke as the inscription on the reverse stated that this honour was to be awarded to mothers who bore ten or more children for the glorious Reich. Muriel pinned the brooch to her black handbag. Cardiff had a large Jewish community and on one occasion Muriel was riding on a bus into the city. She was accosted by an angry woman, obviously of the Jewish faith, who demanded that she removed the brooch immediately as it was offensive to any Jew. The brooch was immediately taken off the handbag and, as far as I recall, has never seen the light of day again.
During my stay at the Station Maintenance company, I was invited to attend Gottingen university for a two-week course on subjects of my choice. This was a series of courses to prepare those shortly to be demobilised for their return to civil occupations. I selected Insurance and Economics. We were billeted in the equivalent of an English pub and travelled to the campus each day. Shortly after the course started I went down with a severe bout of tonsillitis. The doctor arranged for me to go into hospital. I was to return to my billet and wait for an ambulance. There was no one about so I left a short message to the OC on my bed. I was discharged after a week or so. When I entered the pub, one of the bar staff told me that I was to report to the officer running the pub immediately I showed up. This I did, to be met with an accusation of breaking Army rules. Without giving me an opportunity of speaking, he reminded me of the non-fraternising rules and stated categorically that I had sneaked out of the mess and had spent the week with a Fraulein contrary to good order and discipline. I would be reported to a higher authority. When, somewhat out of breath, he finally stopped, I asked if I was allowed to reply. Getting no reply, I told him that I had left a note giving details of my enforced absence. This was firmly rejected as an implausible excuse. It took some time before I persuaded him to ring the hospital and get confirmation of my stay there. This he did, and had the decency to apologise and ask if there was anything he could do to make amends. My answer was quick and to the point 鈥測es, please see that my ration of wines, tobacco and spirits for the time I have been away, is returned to me鈥�. I had gathered from the barman that, in my absence, and the OC鈥檚 interpretation of it, the ration had been shared out among other mess members.
There is nothing else that I recall of those few months before demob. We had a good mess and a fine group of officers. The home made German red wine was excellent apart from its exorbitant price of the equivalent of six pence a bottle, rather less in size than the standard 75 cl of today. Our parties were few and far between but one remains in my mind. We invited one of our corporals round one evening to entertain us on the grand piano in the lounge. No one knew much about the pianist but he was excellent, particularly on selections from the operas.
The day came for our demobilisation and Dicky and I planned to travel together to the channel port stopping off in Antwerp to say farewell to our friends there. There was one snag. No army vehicles were allowed to cross the frontier between France and Germany except with an authorisation signed by an officer of Brigadier or higher rank. When I asked Dicky how we were to get round this, his answer was simple. The Brigadier always had a pile of documents to sign each night and Dicky would put our authorisation in the middle hoping that it would escape attention and it worked. As we approached the frontier Dicky waved the authorisation signed in ignorance by the unsuspecting Brigadier and we were through. Our farewells extended beyond the time allowed and when we arrived at the channel port our ferry had already left. We were running late and our homecoming would be twenty-four hours later than planned so urgent telephone calls had to be made as soon as we landed in England. It was at this point that I left Dicky as we travelled on different trains. We agreed to keep in touch and parted,
I arrived in Guildford for the official papers to be issued and received my officers鈥� demob document which I still have. Throughout my six years service my conduct was stated as 鈥渆xemplary鈥�. This is a word I had not met before and I took the first opportunity to check in a dictionary and was pleased to find it was complimentary. We were issued with civilian clothes and measured for a suit in grey with white stripes which I gave away as soon as it arrived through the post. It was a great disappointment that Muriel was unable to meet me at East Croydon station as she had a severe bout of flu. She was well represented by Jo, now four years old, and my mother.
And so ended my Army life. Those years should have been spent carving out progress in my chosen profession. Competition would be fiercer now with thousands flooding a market not ready to expand or take on new, untried and inexperienced personnel. Employers were required to take back their previous staff but were not anxious to do so . Indeed in my own case, when I saw my General Manager, he pressed me to stay in the Army pointing out that my present pay was about 拢1000 a year with all found, whereas he could only offer me 拢300 a year plus 拢10 for a child.
And so began my journey back to civil life. Not in my wildest dreams, or nightmares, would I have chosen a military career but when this became inevitable I found there were benefits I would have missed if the war had not occurred. From a rather strict upbringing I was thrown into life with the whole range of humanity and I grew up. I was taught the real difference between good and bad, right and wrong, mainly by those who were less fortunate in their upbringing. My values changed through roughing it with all and sundry and I learnt the lesson of sharing with others. I believe I became better able to meet the demands of civilian life and I am thankful for all those who were unknowingly instrumental in making this possible.

Conclusion

I have wondered what benefit this handful of stories, some humorous, some tragic will have on those who read them. My grandson, Jason, recalls that as a child he remembers me telling these tales at bed times, being quite excited and slightly frightened. His comment today is that he will be glad to read them to his own children (if any). Another commented that she had heard them all before but the circumstances and order that the events occurred brought new understanding to life in the army during war.
For me, as already recorded, it has been a pleasure to remember the way in which we found great friendship with others whom we would not have met in peacetime. In particular, I have been constantly reminded of my wedding hymn, mentioned in chapter one. The Minister鈥檚 forecast proved to be correct not only for the days following our wedding, nor just for the war. I have recognised the deeper meaning of John Newman鈥檚 words throughout my life and I have taken the liberty of quoting the hymn in an appendix.
Whilst the opening verse was applied to the time of our wedding (鈥渢he night is dark and I am far from home鈥�) it has had continuing meaning to me... As with others, life has many ups and downs (鈥淥鈥檈r moors and fens, crag and torrent鈥�) when we cry out for that 鈥渒indly light.鈥� Writing these memoirs has not only been a pleasure but a reassurance that, as I look back and see how the earlier verses have become a reality, the final lines will also prove to be true, when, in the words used by Sylvia in the preface, I have 鈥済one鈥�.

.

LEAD KINDLY LIGHT

Lead, kindly Light, amid th鈥檈ncircling gloom,
Lead thou me on,
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on.
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
shouldst lead me on,
I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead thou me on.
I loved the garish day and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O鈥檈r moor and fen, o鈥檈r crag and torrent, till
The night has gone.
And, with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

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