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PART THREE
The Life of a Conscripted Airman

by
Ken Armstrong.

Life on a Troop Ship is like no other existence and is best forgotten as soon as possible. We had not been told our destination for secrecy and safety reasons, but observing large crates waiting to be loaded. It was plain to see that our destination was Bombay. So much for security.

The ship held about four thousand men, mostly Army, and there were a few Nurses. Conditions were appalling. I was on a deck just above the water line, so we did at least have port-holes, which could be opened during the day if required. Long tables had been erected on the outboard side with benches along each side. Sleeping was in hammocks slung from the ‘ceiling’ on hooks. I do not like sleeping on my back but in a hammock this is the only way. The hammocks were about head high off the deck and the art of getting into the hammock was to jump whilst holding the hammock open. Many men jumped right over the hammock! The hammocks were touching each other and were staggered so that one’s head was level with waist of the next hammock, and the feet level with next hammock along.

Within twenty four hours we had left Liverpool and sailed up the Irish sea and dropped anchor off Greenock. No shore leave and in three days we were off again — this time into the Atlantic. A few days out and we ran into a terrific storm. The winds were gale force causing huge waves to build up to a good thirty feet, and as we were facing into the wind the seas often washed over the bows and swept along the deck. The inevitable result was sea-sickness. A very large number of men were struck down and the conditions below deck were indescribable. We later heard that a convoy had been badly hit by a very severe storm and had suffered considerable damage. That convoy could have been us! We all battled our way through, and if our conditions were bad, those on the accompanying destroyers must have been beyond description. They appeared to spend more time under the waves than on them. For seven days we fought against the waves and wind before it slowly died away. The convoy reformed having been scattered by the storm but we noticed that some ships appeared to be missing. With the passing of the storm, the seas became calmer and whether it was this or the acquisition of sea legs I do not know but life certainly became less harrowing! We even started morse practice sessions.

As far as I could judge we steamed roughly due west for several days, that is towards America. Not that we ever thought that was our destination. Eventually however our course became more southerly and then easterly. For some time now the weather had been steadily improving, and the time came when the uniform became too hot and orders were issued that tropical uniforms were to be worn. We shed our heavy blue tunics and trousers and instead donned Khaki drill shirts and tunics and, in day-time, shorts. As evening approached we had to wear long khaki drill trousers and shirt sleeves had to be buttoned down. Even this was too much, so the tunics were discarded and we dressed in open necked khaki drill shirts. We also were issued with long woollen khaki stockings. Even this dress was subject to considerable change in the future. For example, the tunics became redundant, as did the stockings, the shorts reached nearly to the knees, but these were shortened very considerably, for comfort . The issue khaki drill was very heavy and course, so it became the practice for us to buy long khaki drill trousers of a much lighter weave, together with a form of tunic known as a Bush Shirt. These were very light, loose fitting and much more comfortable.

Eventually, one bright morning land was sighted. Speculation became rife, and rumours abounded, but, probably from a member of the crew, we discovered it was West Africa, and the Country towards which we were heading was Sierra Leone — The white mans grave. We entered a very muddy River, and just off the port of Freetown, the anchor was dropped and we swung to the tide. In no time at all, small boats were surrounding the ship and all manner of goods was offered for sale. The most popular was fresh fruit and it was very cheap.

It was here for the first time we came aware of mosquitoes! Very strict orders were issued that everybody must wear long trousers and long sleeved shirts buttoned at the wrist...We were also issued with tins of so called, anti Mosquito cream. When applied to the skin it stung for a while but as far as we could make out, it seemed to attract, not repel, mosquitoes.

No shore leave was allowed and in three days the anchor was raised and we were off again. We seemed to sail due west for some time and then in circles, which made no sense at all. During this manoeuvring we heard a few depth charges going off in the distance and it was said that the Navy Escort had found one or more Submarines and had attacked them. When the Navy felt they had dealt with this threat we altered course to roughly south and continued our journey. We were now approaching the Tropics but not for us the ceremony of crossing the line! My only recollection of this period is that, under complete cloud cover I laid out on deck and got sun burned. This was extremely uncomfortable lying on blankets in my hammock.

Our southbound course changed to Southeast then east and land was sighted. It was unmistakable. It could only be Table Mountain in South Africa. There was considerable excitement at the thought of a few days in Cape Town, but it was not to be. We sailed serenely past, then altered course to the Northeast then north. Land was again sighted and this time we sailed straight into the Harbour of what we shortly found out was Durban. We docked and in due course we very thankfully disembarked. We had no idea of the future but to get off that ship was the most enormous relief. We boarded a train and travelled a few miles north of Durban to a RAF camp where we were introduced to the RAF Bell Tent. Ten men to a tent, all with our feet to the centre.

My main recollections of Durban was the abundance of fresh fruit, the like of which we had not seen since the outbreak of war. The inhabitants of Durban were very kind and hospitable and we made the most of the freedom to walk about, especially at night in well-lit streets. A complete change from the blackout at home. The weather was perfect and we relished dressing in tropical uniform of Khaki drill. Beer was a luxury we had almost forgotten and was freely available. It was inevitable that some men celebrated unwisely and paid the penalty later.

That night we had our first experience of a tropical storm! Heavy rain, thunder and lightening woke us but before we could take any precautions the tent collapsed on top of us! Nor were we the only ones to suffer in this way as most of the tents couldn’t stand the strain and collapsed. Most of us were sleeping in the raw and the sight of several hundred Airmen rushing around trying to re-erect their tents in their birthday suits was a sight I will not easily forget.

Three days later we were all back on the train and rather to disappointment arrived back at the Docks were we found our troop ship the SS Mooltan, and the worse shock of all was being allocated our same mess deck that we had travelled from England on.

As the Convoy sailed out of Durban Harbour in a long line, we passed close to a jetty at the end of which, a lady dressed all in white, and using a megaphone sang popular songs and ballads to all the men on the troop ships. It was a very moving experience and that Lady became known to thousands of servicemen as ‘The Lady in White’ Shortly after leaving Durban, the Convoy split, some steering a more northerly course towards the Suez Canal and the war in the middle East, whilst we continued an Easterly course. A course that took us across the Indian Ocean, so our destination was really no longer in doubt. Some time later the heat haze ahead became more solid and we soon had our first view of India. A country that was to be my home for nearly four years although I did not know that at the time. India can be smelt for many miles out at sea, and it was not a smell that we found at all attractive, but it was a smell to which we became accustomed.

Most men did not appreciate being posted to India. England was full of service men from very many different Countries especially Americans and we found it difficult to understand the reason behind our posting to India and foreigners being posted to England. Such thoughts were quite natural, but at the same time pointless; because nothing could be done about it. I tried to persuade myself that, but for the war, I would never have seen India and it was in my own interest to see as much of the country as I could, and to observe the life the indigenous people lived. This I proceeded to do, subject to Service requirements. This period is covered in my booklet ‘An Airman in South East Asia Command.’

Nearly four years later I landed at Liverpool Docks from the liner Britannic after a much quicker trip than when outward bound. We came back through the Suez Canal which saved several weeks rounding South Africa. After disembarking we were transported to a nearby camp for a few days before being given travel documents and leave passes. And it was V E day June 6th when I arrived back in London on the start of my leave. The month soon passed and I found I was then posted to Poddington R.A.F. Station, Wireless Operators were no longer required in the same numbers so I found myself writing up Discharge Books. I need hardly add that the first book I wrote up was my own. Demobilisation was on everybody’s mind, and couldn’t happen soon enough. I was issued with an R.A.F. bicycle for the purpose of cycling around the camp but every weekend — whether short or long - I cycled into town and caught a train home.

Eventually my discharge came through and I was directed to Uxbridge where a fairly well organised procedure was in operation. A long line of Airmen passed along a large number of stalls where kit was handed in, civilian clothing issued, discharge books completed and pay made to date. I managed to obtain a Navy Blue suit and a Raglan type Raincoat topped with a Trilby Hat. Much of the clothing was not at all suitable for general use, and I wanted clothing in which I could attend the Office. All went well until the last stall which was the Pay Office. I was offered a sum of Money and told to sign a receipt which included a discharge. This led to certain difficulties because the only promotion I received was in India shortly after I arrived. I was promoted L.A.C. One of the regulations applying to airmen was that if you served for three years at the same rank, you were entitled to Good Conduct Pay (otherwise known as undiscovered crime.) I pointed out the omission and indicated that I could not sign the receipt and discharge. The Airman called the Corporal to whom I explained the problem and he called the Sergeant who in turn called the duty Officer. After considerable discussion the Officer agreed in principal with my contentions and promised to take it up with the main Accounts Office. In the meantime would I sign the receipt but not the discharge. This I was prepared to agree to and I signed and moved on, much to the relief of the long queue that had formed behind me.

Thus ended my career in the R.A.F. An experience which I will never forget nor in many ways regret. The chance of seeing India was an experience I would never be able to repeat, and whilst there was a great deal of the country I did not see, that which I saw was memorable to say the least.

As a post-script; a few weeks later I received a cheque from the R.A.F. Pay Office in full settlement of my back good conduct Pay!

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