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The international situation had deteriorated to the point where war was inevitable and on 31st August 1939 the Supplementary Reserve was placed on a war footing and I was instructed to report immediately to Hilsea Barracks, Portsmouth. On reflection perhaps there was no need to go that very night and events proved this to be so as some reservists were still reporting several days later. In my particular case, however, reporting on the Thursday night meant that, being the first to report (and I actually was the first) I was able to tell the recruitment officer that in my position in civilian life I had experience as a wages clerk. I was then posted to No. 4. Ordnance Workshops, No.1. Base Workshop, BEF. The BEF was very ominous - British Expeditionary Force. I was given a table and chair and, as new recruits arrived, I was able to extract from their documents their trade and rate of pay. I was fitted out with a uniform, which fitted where it touched and I looked something of a scarecrow. A lot of time was spent in performing one of the army's favourite occupations - square bashing. Necessary to get the unruly crowd into shape and something like an army going overseas. We had very few regular soldiers in our unit, most of us being reservists, so the regulars had a lot of hard work to do to get us to perform our drill in unison. We were all issued with a rifle, an old Lee Enfield .303 from the 1914 - 18 war. So here we were, a motley crowd, most of us never having been in uniform before and handling a rifle which most of us had never fired. I knew that within a couple of days after mobilization we were to be sent to France as soon as shipping was available.

Back in Bournemouth "My Love" was doing everything possible to acquire a licence, even going as far as Winchester to obtain a Special Licence. Having obtained this there was then the problem of me getting to Bournemouth as my unit was under embarkation orders for 12th September. We eventually managed to persuade Major Gethin, our Commanding Officer, out of his bath to sign a Leave Pass for 24 hours. In a telephone call to "My Love" I told her that somehow I would reach Bournemouth and for her to go ahead with arrangements for the wedding on the Sunday afternoon, 10th September. I can not remember how, but I did get there, and we were duly married in All Saints Church, Southbourne in the afternoon of 10th September, the same day that our Banns of Marriage were called to comply with our original arrangements for marriage on the 30th. We both knew that we had to part and for how long we didn't know but our friends saw me safely on the way to barracks with a parting in front of us the length of which we could not imagine.

Early in the morning of 12th September we were paraded with full kits - gas mask, haversack, tin hat, rifle, ground sheet (to sleep on), our personal items such as soap, razor, tooth brush, etc. Encumbered by this load we were marched to the railway station where we boarded a train for Southampton Docks where we boarded an old tub, which was being prepared as a troopship. Each of us carved out a space on deck to dump our individual loads, all the time being harassed by painters who were busy camouflaging the old tub in the hope that German submarines would not see us. Thus, as deck cargo, we left 'dear old Blighty', each of us with our own thoughts as to when, if ever, we were to see our native land and those we loved again.
After an uncomfortable night, the following morning we were off Cherbourg where we eventually disembarked. One to us at that stage - zero to Gerry - the subs. hadn't got us. Carrying all our possessions we struggled up the hill to what was called a Rest Camp where we were given what was described as a hot breakfast - a slice of bread, without fat, and a slice of meat which at some time had been hot. At least we had a hot drink. Full kits loaded again on our backs we returned to where we had started. We were well received by the local population who turned out to cheer us. One of our mob was heard to remark, much to the amusement of the better educated, "Even the children speak French!"
At the port area again we eventually boarded a train, which was to take us to where we knew not. Eight of us to a so-called carriage with all our kit, a most unpleasant journey of more than 24 hours, with stopping and starting every few miles. To make ourselves as comfortable as possible we divested ourselves of whatever we could and took it in turns to have a window seat. Naturally we all took off our army boots and all 'enjoyed' the resultant mixture of odours! Mine, of course, were sweet.

September being harvest time we passed through fields with ripening crops and orchards with fruit, together with vineyards. All this was too much of an attraction for quite a lot of my colleagues. When the train came to a stop (which was often) several soldiers decided they needed a mixed diet and left the train to raid the orchards. This was all very well until the train driver blew his whistle and the train pulled away. There was then a mad dash out of the orchards and on to the train with the loot. I remember one man, who had not done up his army boots, hurrying to get back on board when one of his boots came off. With all of us cheering him on we could see the look on his face, deciding whether to stop and get his boot, thereby missing the train, or end up a soldier with only one boot! Luckily the train driver must have seen his dilemma because he slowed down sufficiently to enable the poor chap to get his boot and catch up the end of the train, cheered on, naturally, by the remainder of us leaning out of the windows.
Eventually we arrived at a town where, from movements of railway staff and our officers, we guessed was to be our terminus - NANTES. A town (or city) near the mouth of the River Loire and obviously an industrial centre. Here we were to be for the next nine months and where we were to set up our Base Workshops.
I had some luck at this stage and benefited from steps I had taken earlier in ensuring I reported to the recruitment office early on the day of mobilization. As the Wages Clerk for the company the position warranted the rank of Sergeant so, September 1st Private, September 12th Sergeant, jumping through two ranks. One of the quickest promotions in the army! This rank had immediate privileges: higher pay, status, better accommodation, and, most important, being fed in the Sergeants’ Mess, and not quite so much square bashing and drilling.
Life was pretty humdrum for the next four months and I have little recollection of anything outstanding and worth remembering except that, with so little moving during the 'phoney war' arrangements were made for batches of personnel to be sent back to the UK on leave. Eventually, it became my turn and early in January 1940 I managed to get home leave. How wonderful to get back to Blighty and become human beings again.
When the "phoney war" hotted up in May 1940 we were all very concerned although we were, as a Base Workshop, far behind the firing line. When the full impact of the Dunkirk evacuations became apparent, naturally we were very concerned as to our future. On 15th June, well after the Dunkirk evacuations, we were alerted to stand by and prepare to move. Rumour had it that we were to withdraw South and set up our Base Workshops in Bordeaux. Things moved so quickly following the collapse of France however, that on 16th June we were all embarked on company and other transport and driven to St. Nazaire where we were put down on a construction site for a new airfield. During the night we suffered several heavy air raids and many of us left the hangar buildings and settled down in shallow depressions on the airfield site.

Next day, 17th June, we made our way to the port area where there were several ships waiting for us to embark. When we were called forward to embark an RAF Company pushed in front of us and took our place at the head of the queue. If only they knew what the result of that would be and, probably I would not be here to tell the Story if we had embarked in our proper order.
After more delays we eventually boarded a tender, which was to take us out into the bay where the ' Oronsay' and the ' Lancastria' were waiting. During this period we were subjected to several dive-bombing attacks but eventually hooked up to the 'Lancastria'. I was the first of our group to reach the deck of the ' Lancastria' but immediately one of the ship's officers arrived and told us we could not board as the ship was overloaded and that we should try the `Oronsay'. Just at that moment the 'Lancastria' was struck by the first of the bombs, which eventually settled her fate because the bomb went through the funnel and straight out through the bottom. The ship was doomed. I retired to the tender via the rope ladder somewhat quicker than I had gone up on to the deck. Regrettably, most of the RAF personnel who had pushed in front of us were casualties.
As the tender pulled away from the 'Lancastria' further bombs struck the stricken liner and it was obvious that its fate was sealed as, firstly she settled down in the water, and then turned over on her side. At the time we could see literally thousands of the troops on the keel of the ship whilst others were jumping overboard and were swimming away from the stricken vessel.
There was nothing we could do but watch helplessly as the 'Lancastria' slid beneath the sea whilst thousands on the keel were drowned. Some of the survivors managed to reach other boats, including our own, and were pulled aboard but we could not remain stationary for long as the enemy was dive bombing and machine gunning survivors in the water and was endeavouring to set alight the large area covered by the oil from the stricken 'Lancastria'.
We hovered around in our tender for some time as the enemy planes were overhead and we were singled out for a dive-bombing attack. We watched helplessly as a bomb left the aircraft and we followed it down towards us. Fortunately the French skipper of the tender was very skilful and he managed to manoeuvre the ship so that the bomb fell some yards away to our rear. It was so close that the blast lifted us out of the water and we regained our equilibrium as though were on a trampoline.
When the enemy planes had been beaten off by the RAF we approached the 'Oronsay', which itself had been badly damaged, and we were taken aboard. No way was I going below deck and I eventually found a quiet spot on deck with all I had to sustain me - a tin of bully beef and a bottle of gin.
We sailed from St. Nazaire and as a finale to that journey to Plymouth a destroyer dropped depth charges about half a mile away from us as we entered Plymouth Sound.
It is recorded that the sinking of the 'Lancastria' was the largest single disaster to be recorded at sea as we lost an estimated 5000 troops and crew. Certainly the tragedy of seeing so many drown will live in my memory forever.
We were not to know that we were considered missing. A few days before we could get ashore the ´óÏó´«Ã½ had announced that evacuation of France was complete and everyone who could be repatriated was, in fact, back in the U.K., as I realised later, this announcement caused much distress as I had not been in touch. In fact this was caused by the late disembarkation of troops from the 'Oronsay'. All other ships were unloaded before us as we were fortunate in having food on board whilst others did not.
When, eventually, we disembarked somehow I managed to reach a public telephone and, although I had no English money, a soft hearted telephone operator put me through to "My Love" who obviously was overjoyed to hear my voice as she quite thought I was at the bottom of the sea.

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