大象传媒

My story of WW2 鈥� by Stan Martin (magstan@bigpond.com)

The threat of World 11 was real and a large Arsenal was being built at Bridgend 9 miles away, so of I went to look for a job there. I got a job wheeling a barrow at one Shilling and three Pence an hour - I thought it was Xmas. I was earning three Pounds a week, more if worked Saturday afternoon, I was one of forty wheelbarrow men, and we were tending what seemed like hundreds brickies, we were wheeling the mortar from a giant mixer to tend the brickies on the surrounding buildings, we were like a string of ants going all day except for 30 minute break for Lunch, it was hard work, but I thought it was great, at last we had some money coming in. I gave up the barrow job after a while and I got a semi skilled job of digging trenches and laying earthenware pipes.

I kept going at this until I was twenty, then I had to register for the armed forces, War had been declared, and all my friends were being called up. There was hell to play in our house. My parents wanted to apply for an exemption for me, I could have had one quite easy, because farmers and farm worker were urgently required for food production, but I felt that I would be dodging the issue, so I promised them that if I wasn鈥檛 called I wouldn鈥檛 volunteer.

There was plenty of evidence of the war going on, we seemed to be right under the flight path of the German Bombers when they were attacking Port Talbot or Swansea. The ack-ack barrage used to fill the sky with shell bursts. One night, one of the Bombers turned back before dropping his bombs, and let the lot go in a straight line right across our Farm, missing the house by about a hundred yards. Every door and window in the house was blown open, regardless of which way they opened. Some of the ceilings of the bedrooms, and the roof had quite a bad shaking, and one of our calves got a piece of shrapnel in its hind leg, and died about a week latter; that was the only casualty, so we thought we were quite lucky.

Two bombs landed right on the fence line on the mouth of the railway tunnel, blasting the fence and our gate, and half of the road had disappeared. Out of a total of ten bombs six of them landed on our farm.

Father and I went out to see what damage had been done to the buildings, and to check the stock. While we were doing this, the attack was still going on, the sky was lit up with dozens of searchlight beams, and hundreds of anti aircraft shells bursting in the sky.

We decided to check if everyone was okay at the Cottages. We ran into Dai Cwm he was still in his underpants, he came running to us and shouting, 鈥榃hat do you think of the bloody bastard?鈥�, he was quite mad, and ready to go and join up to get his revenge. Then we found the man from the middle house {Jim O鈥機onnors he was also still in his underwear, he was very upset, he was running around shouting 鈥淭his is the bloody end鈥� and repeating it all the time. We had many a laugh about it afterwards.

This sort of thing went on every night, with the exception of the bombs, which we were grateful for, nearly every night the sirens would sound. We used to go up the top of the field behind the house, called Cer Cornel Ty, and watch the searchlights light up. They would start as far away as Cardiff, and as the bombers got closer more searchlights would be coming on and by the time the bombers were overhead we would be surrounded by hundreds of light beams searching the sky for the planes. Then the ack-ack guns would open up, and the sky above Margam Mountain would be full of bursting Anti-aircraft Shells, something like a Fireworks Display. The planes seemed to fly right through it drop their loads swing around and fly back over us. It was said that it was more than likely that the one that dropped its load across our Farm, either chickened out or got damaged by the ack-ack gun fire.

In February 1941 my call up papers came. I was relieved that they had arrived, because all my friends had gone, and I was afraid that someone would pin the three white feathers on me, and brand me a coward. I also felt that I should go and do my bit to help put down that tyrant Hitler and the Nazi Regime.

Two nights before I went they started bombing Swansea, only about ten or twelve miles as the crow flies from the farm. We could see and hear the bombs bursting in the Town, from a vantage point on the Golf course.

I had to report to the Army at Aberystwyth, (West Wales) the next day. I had to travel by train, and when we passed through Swansea Station I could see the terrible destruction caused by the bombing the night before. The train had to creep along over hastily repaired tracks. The following night they came and wiped the Town out.

The next big pick up was at Llanelli. The station was packed with the wives and parents saying goodbye to their sons and husbands, and it was here that I met Lew and Albert. Little did I know then that I would be marrying Albert鈥檚 sister in law! Lew, Albert, and I developed a very strong friendship, and managed to stay together in the same unit until I was demobilized in February 1946.

I spent the next two months in Aberystwyth doing my basic training, This sort of life was very new to me. First up I wasn鈥檛 having half enough to eat! I was getting 17 shillings and six Pence a week, and I used to spend the lot on Baked Beans on toast at the Naaffi.

In the evenings, when not on guard duty, fire watching, or night marching, I had to get used to doing as I was told without question. I found this a bit hard for the first week or so, but I soon got used to it.

From there we went to Cark in Carkmel, Lancashire, for a month firing practice. We had planes towing targets for us to shoot at. One night we were nearly wiped out. A bombing attack meant for Barrow In Furness, which was just across a narrow inlet from our camp, landed on us instead. The Pathfinder must have miscalculated his position and dropped a load of incendiary bombs on a hillside covered with Gorse, and caused a fire. The bombers must have thought this was the target and dropped their loads all around that area, just missing our camp with four land mines, which blew holes in the ground big enough to put four houses in. That was a very close call.

While at this camp, air raid warnings became monotonous. Nearly every night just as we would be dropping off to sleep after a hard days training, the sirens would sound, and the night guard would go running around the camp ordering everybody out to the shelter of the slit trenches, and there we would be for an hour or so while the German bombers flew directly over us to bomb Barrow in Furness. This went on night after night, so we became cheesed off with it, and when the guard would come around shouting air raid warning red everybody out to the trenches, a lot of us would shout abuse at him, and turn over and go back to sleep, {or try to}.

The camp sewerage system was a large open trench, about five or six feet deep with sloping sides, and all the effluent from the latrines, and the ablutions ran into it and drained away towards the sea, which was only a short distance away. So this particular night after a hard day training, complete with a 20 mile route march, we were all glad to get to bed all feeling very tired. When the sirens sounded, and the guard came running around shouting everybody out, he got all the abuse that we could lay our tongues on. We all must have sounded very brave, we could hear the anti aircraft guns blasting away as usual, but we lay there thinking it was a repetition of all the other nights. But all of a sudden there鈥檚 the screaming of bombs, and the guard screaming LOOK OUT!

Well try to imagine about 30 blokes trying to get out of the door at the same time. I got out and got into the shit trench, straddling the black effluent, but some of the lads weren鈥檛 so careful. I saw a few diving into the shit head first, poor b----s I thought. It took them several days to get the stink out of their clothes, and off their bodies.

The bombs fell just short of the Camp, the village of Grange over Sand was practically wiped out. It was a very neat, and clean little place. The inhabitants were mainly retired people. They had opened a very nice canteen for us, it was pitiful to see them standing around their demolished homes heartbroken. I felt as mad as hell. There we were all day shooting at targets, and learning how to shoot these B----- out of the sky, and then hiding in the trenches when they came over.

After all this training, we were ready to go into action but we were told that there weren鈥檛 any guns for us, so we were sent to Hereford to guard an Ammunition Factory. All we had were Lewis Machine Guns from the 1914 War, and instead of rifles we were given a piece of pipe about four feet long with a Bayonet stuck in the end of it. We were told that if there was a Parachute attack our only hope was to get into them before they got to their weapons, kill them and use their weapons to kill the rest of them. I was shocked with this; to think that I was in the British Army and didn鈥檛 even have a rifle.

A few weeks later we were issued with one Canadian .300 rifle between two, and Lew and I were selected to go on a short NCO鈥檚 course. After that we were both promoted to Lance Bombardier, and most of the time we were in charge of a Gun site. With the handle of D/C (Detachment Commander), later on I was sent away on a PT course to Gloucester. All DC鈥檚 had to be able to instruct the Detachment in physical training every day, while on Gun sites. I didn鈥檛 have any problem passing out.

Later on I was sent away again on another course to learn something about Gas Warfare. I passed out with pretty good marks and I was the Gas expert for a while, and had the job of going around all the Gun Sights and HQs lecturing on how to recognize the different types of gases and what to do, and what not to do.

One day I arrived on a gun site to give the boys a lesson about gas warfare and the troop officer was on site {bloody great I thought}. He said to me, 鈥淭hink I鈥檒l stay I might learn something myself.鈥�

Now lecturing wasn鈥檛 something that I liked doing, with an officer present made it that much harder. Anyway I got going, and I was having some difficulty getting the fellers to understand the difference between Persistent Gas, and non Persistent gas. I think some of the fellers were deliberately trying to make things awkward for me, and after I got to the end of my lecture I asked if there were any questions.

To my horror, one twit asked what was the difference between non persistent, and persistent. Well I could have shot the B---.

I thought for a minute, then I said, 鈥淣ow if one of you fart in here there will be a stink for a short while, do you agree?鈥� The twit nods his head. 鈥淏ut I said if one of you shit in the middle of the room the stink will remain until it is removed.鈥� That shut them up, and the officer said, 鈥淰ery well defined Bdr.鈥�

About December 1941 we were rushed down to Padstow, Cornwall to defend a Fleet Air Arm Airfield. After two weeks we were all sent home on 7 days embarkation leave. My Mother was very upset on learning that I was going overseas. I can understand her feelings, because she had gone through the 1914-18 War when she lost her brother Stanley, who was killed in the Dardanelles, and her other Brother Fred got severely burned and disfigured. Father was also wounded. Those seven days soon passed. I spent most of the time saying goodbye to friends and relations.

When I got back to my Unit we were all taken to Middlesbrough by train. There we were fitted out with tropical clothing, that was the only clue we had about where we were going.

At last we were issued with rifles, and Bofers 鈥� Anti-Aircraft Guns. We were there for about three weeks, marching here and there to different Army Stores to be issued with various pieces of equipment. Then we were put on a train and ended up in Glasgow. The train went right onto the Wharf and pulled up along side the P & O Liner Orion. This was an eye opener for me, because I had never seen any sort of ship before, except for the ones I had seen in the pictures. I couldn鈥檛 believe the size of it. It was a passenger Liner converted to a troop ship. The holds of the ship had been turned into ten story accommodation, only the levels were downwards, not upwards.

When we embarked we were in full marching order, plus our kit bags we were loaded up like pack Donkeys, and going up the gang plank in single file. When I think of it today, it was just like the way they load the sheep these days.

When we got on the ship there were sailors posted on every corner or stairway directing us where to go, and everyone we got to would say, 鈥滽eep going down,鈥� and down, and down we had to go. I thought there was no bottom to the ship. The levels were marked in alphabetical order, and we ended up on O Deck. I think we were on the bottom of the ship, well below the water line. We were fifteen decks below A Deck.

The space was about seven feet high with hammocks hanging side by side, almost touching each other. There were racks on the ceiling for us to store our kits. There were tables along one side, big enough to seat twelve men. When seated your back would be touching the back of the person on the next table. We were crammed in there like Sardines in their tins. I didn鈥檛 like it at all. The only way out was up those ten flights of steel stairways. Two men were detailed each table. Each day, it was their job to get the food from the Gully, and tend the table, and return the utensils to the Gully. It鈥檚 a mystery to me to this day how they managed to feed us all so well, considering that there were so many of us. I don鈥檛 know exactly how many of us were on that ship, but if someone had told me that there were 10,000 of us on board, I wouldn鈥檛 have had any problem in believing it.

I was very worried about being all that way down, I felt trapped. I could see that if anything happened, like getting torpedoed, we didn鈥檛 stand a chance in hell of getting out. So imagine my relief when I was selected for gun crew. We had two Bofors mounted on the well Deck aft, and had to skeleton man them 24 hours of the day. This meant 2 hours on, and four off. I didn鈥檛 mind this one little bit, anything to get out of that hell hole. We were given nice cabins close to the guns. In our four hours off we couldn鈥檛 go anywhere because we were on constant stand-by, ready for immediate action.

When we left the safe waters of Greenock, {down river from Glasgow}we joined up with a 29 ship convoy. With a naval escort three Destroyers and the aircraft carrier Illustrious, it was a sight to see all those ships in formation, and they had to change course every seven minutes. The Idea of this was to make it harder for the German U Boats to line up on any of the ships. This continued right through the night, and I couldn鈥檛 help marvel at seeing all the ships in the same position come dawn.

We were lucky, we didn鈥檛 suffer any losses. We did have a few scares when the destroyers made a few attacks on unseen targets. We crossed the Nortth Atlantic to Sierra-Leone {West Africa} where we stopped to pick up food and water then off again south to Cape Town. There we disembarked for a week.

We were billeted in a huge holding Camp in bell tents, about ten men to each tent. We had to sleep with our feet towards the centre pole. The food there was great, plenty of fresh butter, and lovely fresh bread, and all the fresh fruit that we could eat.
The camp was in a place called Retreat, about ten miles out of Cape Town. We could travel into town by electric train. We were able to do this two or three times in that week, and we explored quite a bit of Cape Town. It was plain to see that the Black People were regarded as scum, and were not allowed to travel on the same bus as the whites. I thoroughly enjoyed our stay in S Africa.

After a week we embarked on the P & O liner Mauritania, which was the third biggest ship in the World beaten only by the Queen Mary and the French ship Normandy.

We sailed from Cape Town without escort. They reckoned that she was fast enough to dodge the U Boats on her own. It was fairly obvious that she was very fast, they said that she was traveling at 35 Knots at times, but still traveled on a zig zag course.

We arrived in Bombay about a week latter without incident.

That was the end of my first voyage, and I can tell you it was an eye opener for me. I used to wonder how the hell they managed to feed us all, and the quality of the food was quite good, we even had fresh bread baked every day. The only bad thing was the way that we were packed in like sardines, but as I said before I was lucky to be chosen to man the AA.Guns. I didn鈥檛 mind that, even though we were on duty 2 hrs on, and 4 hrs off but in our off time we were still on stand by, and had to sleep fully dressed ready for instant action. But we didn鈥檛 mind, it was better than sleeping down the bottom of the hold.

We disembarked at Bombay and spent two days in a holding Camp. We had some time off and were able walk around, and see a bit of Bombay. I was shocked to see the large number of beggars, and lots of them were horribly deformed. I learned later on that most of these were deliberately deformed by their parents when very young to make better beggars out of them. It was said that whatever the parents did for a living the children had to follow suit. Wherever we went it was "Bukshees Sahib!"

Then we were put on a troop train, and headed east to Calcutta. This took seven days. The train was an old fashioned troop train, with wooden slatted seats, back to back down the middle and a single row around the side. The seats could be raised, and underneath there were built in rifle rakes. We had to keep our rifles there so that we were sitting or sleeping on them, because we were warned about the 鈥淲ogs鈥� being expert thieves, and would do anything to get hold of an army rifle.

Traveling on that train was an experience on its own. There was no water, there was a toilet in the middle of the carriage, it was barely a metre square, no water, just a hole in the floor straight through to the middle of the track. There were two blocks one each side of the hole about the size of a size ten boot. The method was, stand on the blocks squat, and line up with the hole, hope for the best, and let go. If you missed, tough luck - you just had to clean up with the toilet paper, {army form blank}

We ate and slept and done our ablutions in that compartment. We used to draw our rations every day from the supply carriage. Usually it was just corned beef and hard biscuits, some tea, and a couple of tins of condensed milk. The only way we could have a cup of tea, was to wait for the train to stop, and send someone up to engine with the three gallon tea bucket, and ask the driver for some boiling water from the engine.

Sometimes when they stopped for water we would run up and stand under the water pipe and have a quick shower without bothering to take our clothes off. It didn鈥檛 matter about getting them wet, because they were already wet with perspiration, so they had a wash as well.

It was stinking hot in the train, we used to climb up on to the roof of the carriage for a cool off. Sleeping at night was a bit rough because the train was literally lousy, under the wooden slats of the seats there were thousands of Bugs which used to have a feast off us every night. Most of us were covered with red spots from bites.

Sometimes during the day we were able to buy fresh fruit from the natives, Pineapples, Bananas, Mangoes, and Oranges, these were very cheap, but we had to be very careful to avoid catching a decease we had to wash the fruit in Permanganate of Potash solution, this was a bit hard due to the shortage of water.

Eventually we arrived at Calcutta, and were billeted in a large Military Camp. It was a treat to be able to walk around again, and have a shower and clean up and get our clothes washed. Can you imagine how dirty we were after seven days on that stinking train? Our clothes were stiff and dirty, after being soaked in sweat, and dust for seven days, so the cold showers and the Bamboo Huts of the camp were considered to be a bit of a luxury.

We were there for about a week. During this time we were able to explore quite a bit of Calcutta, and it was quite an experience for me. The place was absolutely swarming with people, like a nest of black ants, and there were thousands of beggars. Wherever we went it was Bakshees Sahib. Their deformities were enough to make one feel quite sick, but after a while we got used to it.

After about a week, our Battery was loaded on the train again, and we were taken about 200 miles south to a place called Cutback, in the State of Orison.

The Japs were becoming more active in the Bay of Bengal, and there was a new Fleet Air Base there without any anti aircraft defence. It was our job to fortify the base.

The base was situated in a large clearing, surrounded by dense jungle, and it was teaming with wildlife, especially all the nasties like Scorpions, Centipedes, Snakes, flies by the million. Jackals would surround the camp at night, and start howling all at the same time a very eerie sound. The air was full of fire flies, red, yellow, and green just floating slowly around, we used to catch them, and stick them on the sites of our rifles, and shoot at the Jackals, they would disperse after a few shots, and a few dead ones left around for the Vultures to clear up the next morning. There was snakes every where, it was nothing to find one coiled up on our beds when we came in after duty. If you left your boots on the floor , you could be sure to find a Scorpion in them in the morning.

For the first couple of months we were in tents, and it was a bit of a problem to keep things off the floor. We were fortunate enough to be issued with wooden beds called Charpoys, a wooden frame, with coconut string weaved across the frame. The problem was keeping our kit bags and equipment up off the floor. The white ants would eat the bottom out of a kitbag in a couple of nights. We had to stand the legs of the beds in tins of water to prevent them from eating them.

On arrival at the Fleet Air Arm Base, each Detachment (gun crew) were transported complete with Bofers Guns, predictors, ammunition, tools, and stores and our tents, to a predetermined site which was nothing but a peg in the ground.

First thing to be done was to get the Gun ready for action, which was supposed to be imminent, then get the tents erected, help the cook to build a bush cookhouse. While this was going on there had to be a skeleton crew on the gun at all times. That left only five men to do every thing else.

A deep hole had to be dug for a toilet, with a chicken like perch across the hole for a seat. A man looked very elegant sitting on the perch doing what he had to do.

That night, just as we were settling down in our beds, the heavens open up, and we had an almighty thunderstorm. The rain came down like we had never seen before, and in a very short time we had about six inches of water flowing through our tents. What a shambles, all the nasties were being washed along, all looking for something to climb up on, including several snakes. The water subsided as quickly as it had risen, but there was no sleep for us that night.

Top priority had to be given to building a gun pit. This was done with sand bags filled with earth, a circle about 18ft in diameter #, and about 4ft high, backed up with earth built up around the outside. Four ammunition recesses had to be built into the surround, a lot of work, considering it all had to be done by hand. With temperatures of a 100+ (we actually experienced 120 degrees several times), our shorts and shirts would be soaking wet with sweat from morning to night, and even in the evening there was no escaping the heat, so it was hard work and no play for the next week or so.

Our gun was situated quite close to the end of the runway. The base was armed with a couple of Squadrons of twin engine Hudson Bombers, and Hurricane Fighters.

The bombers used to take off nearly every day, to search for Japanese Submarines in the Bay of Bengal, or a bombing mission over Burma.

During our stay I witnessed many crash landings quite near to our gun site. sometimes one would return with a full load of bombs, short of fuel, and get caught in a rain storm just as they were about land, and cause them to misjudge the end of the runway, usually the under carriage would collapse one side, the wing would hit the ground, and break, and burst the petrol tank, the plane would spin around and catch on fire almost instantly, the explosions that would follow were ear shattering.

Usually there would be four 250lb bombs, and several oxygen bottles which seem to have a louder explosion than the bombs. The plane would be blown to bits, lots of pieces would go flying over our gun pit. I can tell you it was time to keep your head down, which we did without being told.

Because of the number crashes I saw, I developed a very low opinion of the Lockheed Hudson Bomber.

Huts were being built for us by the local natives, they were pole framed, with brush filling, then rendered inside and out with mud. Indian women, dozens of them, did the plastering. The method was tons of red earth was carried inside the hut, then watered and mixed up by the women with their feet. They would be singing and dancing, and stomping until they had the mud to the right consistency. Then they would plaster the walls up with their hands, and use the surplus for the floor, which would set quite hard in a couple of days. We were very glad to be out of the tents.

I must have given our Troop Officer the impression that I was pretty good at building gun pits, because one day I was ordered to supervise the building of another gun pit about a mile away from our site, it had to built right on the edge of the jungle, and because of the trees, a mound had to be made so that the gun could fire over the top of the trees.

I was given 200 Indian Coolies to get the job done. The mound had to be about 30ft high and was built by the Coolies carrying the earth in baskets on their heads, and trampled down with their feet. Then the gun pit had to built on top of that.

I used to walk back and forth to the site. One evening I left it a bit late leaving for home, and it was getting dark. About half way home I found myself surrounded by what sounded like hundreds of Jackals and wild dogs all howling at the same time, and I can tell you I was packing the you know what. I had about a Kilometre to go, so I fired a few shots to where I thought they were, and then I ran like hell for home.

I was highly commended by the CO, for doing what they called a dam good job.

We were there for six to eight months, (I think). During this time we were able to explore Cuttack a few times during rostered days off, and transport to take us into the Town for some rest and recreation. Cuttack is renowned for its filigree work, it is done with very fine silver wire, and it is woven into beautiful broaches, bangles & necklaces, even ladies Handbags, I bough one of these and several broaches, and a couple of necklaces. I packed them all in the handbag, and posted them for home for my Mother & Ray, but they never got there - a couple hundred Rupees down the drain.

For the whole of our stay there we had to Stand To every morning for an hour, starting half an hour before dawn, and for all this work and sweat that we lost, we never had a single Jap Plane pay us a visit.

We were fed up after all the work and training that we鈥檇 done and we were disappointed that we hadn鈥檛 fired a shot towards the war effort. It seemed like we were wasting our time. I think we are now pretty close to 1943, and the Japs are pushing our troops back in Burma, and getting very close to India. Our Regiment was ordered to move up to the Chittagong area.

I was ordered to report to HQ. I was told to pack my kit, and just take my small pack. I was given large amount of money, and two men. I was to travel to Calcutta three days ahead of the Battery. I was told to locate the Imperial Tobacco Company and buy as many cigarettes as I could with the money, then get them to a small railway Station on the outskirts of Calcutta, to join up with the Unit as they came through,

This was a hell of a responsibility for three rookies, Calcutta is a very big place with a very large population of about seven million, and because of the advancing Japanese Forces towards Eastern Bengal there was a kind of exodus from the eastern Towns.

At night time it was almost impossible to walk along the pavement of Chowringee (Calcutta鈥檚 main Street) because of the thousands of half starved evacuees that were laying in every available space that could be found, and in the morning the sick and the dying, and the dead would still be there covered with flies. Then the death squad would come along to pick up the dead bodies. They would tie the hands and feet of the dead, then put a bamboo pole between the feet and the hands, hoist the pole up on to their shoulders, and off they would go with the body swinging in between them. They would go to meet a bullock cart, and pile the bodies up on it. This was a hell of an experience for us, it was something that we had to adjust to.

We found The Imperial Tobacco Company the next day, ordered the Fags and had them packed in a large wooden box about at least a cubic metre in size. Because we were on an unofficial errand we couldn鈥檛 get the box transported officially, we had to make our own way to the meeting place, {I can鈥檛 remember the name of it}. We used all sorts of transport; horse drawn carriage, rickshaws, even carts drawn by two water buffaloes.

The area that we went through was very dirty, the smell of open sewerage drains, and the streets littered with all sorts of rubbish. Green coconut shells by the thousands. These were sold in the streets - at a cost of one Anna each. After buying one the vendor would chop the end off with a jungle knife, and cut a hole through which you could drink the juice through, this was regarded as one of the safest drink to buy in India.

Eventually we got to the place where we were supposed to meet the Troop train, only to find out that it wasn鈥檛 coming through until the following day, so we were stuck there for the night with our huge box of cigarettes. Not daring to leave it out of our sight for a second, because the Natives were reputed to be able steal something from right under one鈥檚 nose, I had to find somewhere for us to be able to sleep in turns for the night. So I commandeered a railway goods van for the night.

I had to use a lot of unauthorized authority to get it. The train arrived the following morning and we proudly carried our big box of fags over to the part of the train were we could see the boys from our unit waving to us, only to be redirected by our troop officer to take them to the officers carriage, and that was the last we saw of the box of Fags.

We had to content ourselves with the army supply, they were called V鈥檚, and I can swear to you that if there ever were any cigarettes made with Camel or Horse shit it was V鈥� s.

We finally got to Chittagong.

On our way we could see the thousands of Indian evacuees heading west towards Calcutta, the Japs were pushing hard towards Chittagong. We were told that air attacks were imminent, so it was all haste to get our gun pit built.

I was in charge of building several throughout the next two years, I even built a brick one on top of a two story building. It seemed that whenever there was an out of the ordinary job to do Bdr Martin S. was the one selected to do it!

I had been made up to full Bombardier by now , and I had my own Gun and Crew, it was rather a boring life, stand to every morning for an hour starting half an hour before dawn. to half an hour after daybreak. This was followed by skeleton manning of the gun by the minimum of three men throughout the day, and full stand to for an hour at dusk, then the hours of darkness were shared out between the numbers of men for guard duty through the night.

I used to take the last turn so that I was up and ready for stand to in the morning. This went on day after day. The day was used with gun drill, cleaning the gun and polishing the ammunition, a very boring time we used to wish during stand to that they would attack for us to put all our training into practice.

In September 1943 I had the bad news that my Mother was dying. This was an awful shock for me. I never had any warning that this was a possibility. I tried all ways I could think of to get back home. I volunteered for the Commandoes in Europe, anything to get back home where I thought I would have a chance of a couple of days leave to see her.

I was told this was impossible because I couldn鈥檛 be spared #, this I thought was a lot of B/S, because I couldn鈥檛 see that we were doing anything worthwhile. To help me over my grief my troop officer recommended me for a fire fighting course in Calcutta. This offended me more. I used to think what the hell am I doing here wasting my time as far as the war effort was concerned, but the course was like a fortnight鈥檚 leave. I saw quite a lot of Calcutta in that fortnight, but the pleasure was ruined on my return where I had a letter to tell me that my Mother had passed away.

Apart from the monotony of having to do the same thing over and over again, the millions of flies, the ants in our tea - too many to have any chance of picking them out, so we just drank the tea ants and all. Local baked bread full of weevils looked just like seed cake no chance of picking them out, so we just ate them too.

Then there was the stinking heat to put up with. During the summer months our clothes, {shirts and shorts} would be soaking wet with perspiration all day, and at night our bed clothes would bear the imprint of our bodies with sweat.

We had to sleep under mosquitoes nets because malaria was rampant in that area. The mosquito net kept the little Bs away from us while we slept, but it also stopped the free circulation of any fresh air that was available.

One of our gun sites was situated on the outskirts of the town, on a hill, surrounded by Bamboo forest, and four of the men had been struck down with Spinal Malaria and died within a couple of days, including the D/C, so once again Bdr Martin S was selected to take over the site and try to beat the Mossies.

I had a free hand. I was told to sort it out the best way I could. Well I had the men cut down lots of the Bamboo and burnt them all around the edge of the Jungle, and I had them searching the area for any stagnant water holes, and sprayed them with a mixture of kero and old engine oil. At dusk everybody had to put on long trousers, and long sleeved shirts, and plaster our necks, faces, and hands with anti mosquito cream. The men didn鈥檛 like this very much, but I insisted that they do it. I was there for a couple of months with no more cases of malaria.

I was returned to my old site near the centre of town, and I was made up to Sgt. I didn鈥檛 care much for this because it separated me from my pals.

I stayed with it for about three months, and then I had a big disagreement with a temporary troop officer, which caused me to revert to the rank of Bombardier, a much better rank that Sgt in my opinion. Being in the middle gave me the opportunity to pass on any lousy jobs to the L/Bdr.

Life carried on very much the same, we did get a few shots off at enemy planes on two occasions, the last time was at a bomber that was heading straight towards the railway station, we got twelve rounds off at him. We didn鈥檛 get any hits, but it seemed that we got close enough to make them turn around and head off home. I think that would be correct, because we didn鈥檛 see any more of him.

In April of 1944 the Japs tried to get into India via the north east. They were defeated at Kohima, with heavy losses on both sides. Our regiment was disbanded and we were sent to reinforce the 2nd. division

When Lew, Albert, & I heard of this we panicked thinking that we were going to be spilt up because up to now, we had been more or less together, at least always in the same Battery, most of the time on different Gun sites, but we always got together whenever possible. Lew being a Sgt had his own gun crew, me being an ex Sgt now Bdr was also in charge of a gun site most of the time and I had Albert as my No 1 for quite some time.

During this time I got to know quite a lot about Llanelli, and all about the Tin Works, and Mary and family including Margaret. We talked so much about them that I practically knew them all before I met them.

Albert was my No 1 the day we opened fire. It was my job to identify the target and give the order to engage, and Albert had always said to me that if ever I gave the order to engage the shells would be going up the bloody spout before I would finish saying it, and he was true to his word. The second that I said En Albert said Fire and we got 12 rounds off at him. And I think we would have got him had it not been for an unusual unheard of happening.

An empty shell case discharged form the lower deflector tube releasing the lock on the forward leveling jack which caused the gun to drop out of level, and I had to order the engagement to stop, the powers that be would not believe this could have happened.

When we heard of the breaking up of our Regiment the three of went to see the CO to make sure that we got into the same Battalion, and as a result the three of us ended up in the RWF, where Albert and I ended up in the same Platoon. Lew being a Sgt was placed in another Company, but we used to see each other quite often, or whenever possible.

When the 77th Ack Ack Regt broke up we were entrained at Chittagong.

We traveled north by train to Dimapur, then by road transport through Kohima, to the 82nd mile stone on the road to Imphal. This was where we joined the Royal Welch Fusiliers. A couple of weeks of intensive infantry training, and we were on our way to Mandalay.

It was tough going from there on. We crossed the Chin Win River at a place called Kalawa. The Royal Engineers had built the longest Pontoon bailey bridge of the war, because of the width and the speed of the current it was regarded as an engineering feat. We were told that it was put across by anchoring it at the home side and building the bridge along the side of the river up stream. At a determined length it was released and the current floated it across to the other side.

When we crossed I couldn鈥檛 help marvel at the wonderful scenery. We were traveling along the side of the valley with the Chinwin River down below, and surrounded by lovely tall Teak trees. I can remember thinking how nice it would be to be able to trek through there under different circumstances.

The Japs was definitely on the run, and all we had to put up with was their rear guard action, which were snipers in the tree tops, and felled trees across the tracks that stopped our transport, but it was drive on regardless.

We used to have our supplies delivered by parachute. At one stage we advanced 110 miles in 10 days, this doesn鈥檛 seem very much I know, but if you take into consideration, the heat, the shortage of water, the heavy loads we were carrying, snipers in the tree tops, the disruption of the tracks by felled trees, digging in two or three times a day, because of suspected counter attacks, only to find out they were only delaying tactics by a couple of snipers. This was very effective because of the difficulty in locating them in the tree tops. When we would spot them the top of the tree would be blown to bits and we wouldn鈥檛 have the pleasure of seeing him fall out of the tree because they were always strapped in. After shooting all the leaves and small branches off he could be seen hanging there riddled with bullet holes.

Just before dark we would end the advance for the day, form a box formation and dig in again. There was a 50% stand to all through the night, so to enable half of us at a time to have a bit of a sleep, we used to dig what we called graves about 12 to 15inchs deep, we had to do this because there was always the chance of a Mortar attack during the night, and from time to time we would have a few Japs run right through the middle of our box formation shooting or throwing grenades as they went through, so we had to be below ground level because there was our return fire to put up with.

One morning I remember seeing one of our chaps getting out of his grave, with his blanket over his shoulders and as he stretch himself a large black snake dropped to ground and slithered away into a Bamboo thicket, there were also scorpions, and centipedes to put up with, but even though most of us were scared of coming into contact with them, we were so tired, and longing to sleep, that we could ignore them.

We used to have a rope tied to one of our feet when asleep, so that the guards could alert us, or awaken us for our turn on guard. There would be two to each trench. This didn鈥檛 help us to stay awake because we couldn鈥檛 talk, and any of the sleepers that snored had to be woken up with a sharp tug on the rope. Sometimes I found that I couldn鈥檛 keep my eyes open, so I used to do what my father said he used to do in the 1914 War, that was to put the point of the Bayonet under the point of my chin, and my hand clasped near the end, if I should nod my head by dropping off to sleep I would get pricked with the Bayonet, I had blood on my chin more than once. I think that staying awake under those conditions was one of the hardest things I had to do, because there was so many depending on you.

Our advance took us through a little village called Shwebo which was a fairly big Bamboo Hut village, completely deserted as we went through. Couldn鈥檛 blame them for that, it wasn鈥檛 safe to drink the water from the wells, because there was every possibility that they had been poisoned. The word was push on, push on, on the 10th day we reached a small river where we could have a bit of a break. After 10 days without a wash or a shave, that river was heaven. It was a fast flowing clean water. We threw ourselves into it clothes and all, and washed our bodies and clothes the same time.

We were there for two days, our transport caught up with us and we had a good meal at last, corned beef stew, with dehydrated potatoes and a mug of tea. It seemed like Xmas.

While we were there, I saw the Burmese start building a log bridge across the river for our heavy transport. Their machinery consisted of about ten Elephants, complete with Mahouts, it was an eye opener to see the way these animals handled the heavy Teak logs. We didn鈥檛 have the pleasure of seeing the bridge finished; we had to continue the chase.

Eventually we got to the Irrawaddy River. I was very surprised at the size of it as at this point it was about 1500yds wide and flowing at 6 knots, {so they said}.

This I found out to be true a few nights latter when we had to make a diversionary landing on an island which was almost on the other side.

We started our crossing about half a mile up stream to give us a chance to beat the current, and get on the Island before the Moon rose. We got about two thirds of the way across when we came under heavy machine gun fire. Our blow up boat was punctured in several places, the Platoon Officer was shot in the butt {much to his disgust }and another wounded in the leg.

We were all in the water now but hanging on to what was left of the boat, and being swept along by the current, and we were washed back to the home side of the river on a bend about half a mile down stream from the island.

We were not the only ones to have failed to make it, there were several other boats washed back to the same spot as us, our Company Commander was there, he also had been washed back across to the home side. He gathered us all up, and raced us back up the river bank to a point where the Royal Engineers had a few collapsible canvas pontoon boats, which were intended to get our supplies across. By now the moon was well up, and it was a beautiful moonlit night,

I can remember thinking about the song, Moon over Burma, and wondered how many of us would live to see the dawn.

We were ordered into the Pontoon boats and they were powered by outboard motors, as soon as they started them up the Jap machine guns started up as well.

When we got about half way across they started firing mortar bombs at us. We got within a couple hundred yards of the other side when we ran into barbwire on a sand bank, and at the same time as we hit the wire a mortar bomb hit us dead centre, passed through the canvas to explode under the boat and blew the bottom out of it.

We were in the water again, and we were sitting ducks for the Japs. If they had stuck to their guns they could have wiped us out, but for some reason or other they pulled out.

They had us on a plate. They had a commanding position on top of the 20 metre high sand hills that ran along the shoreline, and by now it was bright moonlight, which made us easy targets.

When the boat struck the barb wire, and the mortar bomb went through the bottom of the boat, the C/O shouted every man for himself, I was near the front of the boat so when I jumped over I was lucky enough to clear the barb wire. Albert (brother in law to be) landed right in the middle of it. I helped him to free himself, his legs were badly torn, at this stage and it was pandemonium, machine gun, and rifle bullets, mortar bombs, and spring grenades bursting in the water.

Albert and I made for shelter behind another boat stuck on a sand bank but as soon as we got there a burst of machine fire came through the boat right between us, I actually saw the holes being made as the bullets burst through the side of the boat, it didn鈥檛 take us long to decide to leave that spot.

We headed for the Island in varying depths of water, sometimes crawling and sometimes on tiptoes, the Japs didn鈥檛 have much more than our steel helmets to shoot at, they really had us at their mercy. It was rather a nasty situation to be in, but by no means a big major battle.

We lost few of our chaps. I lost a young lad from my section, he was given to me the day before we made the crossing. When the Platoon Sgt brought him to me he said for Christ sake look after him he鈥檚 only a kid. I lost him in the confusion after our boat got blown up. I found him the next day - he had been mortally wounded. He had only left the UK six weeks before.

When we were in the water heading for the island, I can remember thinking I鈥檒l be lucky if I can dodge all of this shit, because it was coming at us thick and fast, then for some reason which I will never understand, the shooting stopped, and we crawled onto that island without another shot being fired. The Japs had pulled out.

I had to take a patrol out to see if there were any of them left on the island but they had all gone. Then they started shelling us with 150mm guns the big shells made large craters in the sand and we had a few narrow misses.

The only reason I can think of why they pulled out was the fear of being taken prisoner, they were noted for that. They would rather commit suicide than surrender.

With the main force crossing further down the river, they must have been afraid of being cut off, lucky for us that they thought like that, because they had us like sitting ducks.

The following day I was glad to meet up with Lew. Albert and I hadn鈥檛 seen much of him for the past few weeks, because he was he was a Platoon Sgt in another company, we were great friends, the three of us had managed to stay together ever since day one in Aberystwyth,

We spent the next half an hour or so discussing the happenings of the night before. He had landed a bit further down river they had also had a bit of a bashing, he was carrying on quite a bit about no 13, he reckon it was a B--- of a number because, he was in 13 Platoon, no 13 boat, and only 13 men left when they landed.

Then we were moved forward a couple hundred yards to dig in once more in a better designed defensive position, all the time expecting a counter attack, but all we had was spasmodic shelling from the long range 150 mm guns.

Most of the island was covered with elephant grass about 9ft high, which was now on fire caused by the shelling, we were dug in on the edge of a patch of corn which provided us with a welcome change of diet, we thought we might be there for a couple of days so we dug ourselves a more comfortable and larger trench. We even put an improvised canopy to provide some shelter from the sun and camouflage.

The company runner arrived with a message from HQ just as the shelling started up again. There was the whistling screaming sound of a shell coming right at us. The runner didn鈥檛 hesitate he dived head first into our trench under the canopy without touching it. The shell landed about 10 to 15ft from us. We all thought this was it, but to our great relief it was a dud. Shortly after another landed on the other side of us and that also was a dud, we thought that was our lucky day.

There was a hell of a battle going on a couple of miles down river, and an air strike was asked for, and fifty US four engine bombers {Liberators} came over in close formation and pattern bombed an area of the jungle. All the bombs were let go simultaneously we could see them falling like a huge blanket, and when they hit the ground there was a tremendous explosion. A large area of the jungle had been blown up, you would think after such an explosion that it would be impossible for anything to be left alive, but as soon as the smoke cleared the machine guns opened again just to show that they were still alive.

The next day we started our advance towards Mandalay, and much the same sort of rearguard action by the Japs. They were running even faster now, maybe it was because of the more open type country, low scrub with a tree here and there. We even had a few tanks to help us out on one or two occasions. We didn鈥檛 like having them because when advancing on an enemy position we would have to form a protective cordon around them to protect them from Kamikaze Japs, which were known to throw themselves under the tanks with a box of explosives tied to their bodies, and blow themselves up with the tank.

We didn鈥檛 like them because of the noise they made - it was very difficult to tell where the shooting was coming from.

We carried on like this to Mandalay, which had fallen by the time we got there. We had been held up by several well defended small hills. The Japs were in well camouflaged Bunkers and fox holes, and on these occasions we were very glad to have tanks supporting us. When we arrived at the outskirts of the city the fighting was all over.

The following day we even had a cup of tea from the Salvation Army. We were amazed to find a makeshift Canteen as soon as this. I think they must have been there during the occupation.

When we moved on from there we all thought we were going start our chase southward towards Rangoon, but much to our surprise we found ourselves at an airstrip, and we were told that we were going to be flown out to Calcutta. There were several Dakota Transport planes there {DC3} and before we had time to think much about it, we were loaded onto the planes and we were on our way to Calcutta, and we could look down on some of the terrain that we had trudged through. We landed at Cal, and were transported by trucks to a camp on the outskirts of the City called Bandel.

It was great to be back in some sort of civilization, where we could have a shower, and clean up in general. Then we were told that we were going to be in a landing force to try to take Rangoon from the sea.

It was the general feeling amongst the lads that this was going to be the end for most of us. The Japs were retreating south from Mandalay towards Rangoon, so we naturally thought we were going to be the anvil. We had a couple of days of R& R in the city, which was pretty hectic, over indulging in food at the restaurants, and Booze at the Honky-Tonks, everybody thinking that this could be the end for most of us.

We embarked on a small ship at some dock in Calcutta, and sailed across the Bay of Bengal to Rangoon, on the trip we were preparing ourselves for a tough battle. We spent most of the time planning, and making sure that all our equipment was in good order, especially the weapons, and the ammunition.

As we approached the shore it became obvious that that once more the enemy had departed, and we landed and marched through the city without firing a single shot.

We didn鈥檛 know it then but the war was over for us, all we did for the next month or so was several patrols out into the countryside, checking out a few small oil refineries, which were closed down. I think they had been disabled by the British Troops in 1942 before they were withdrawn. We used to get quantities of paraffin wax from the inside of the oil tanks and in our spare time make candles, using bamboo for moulds, or anything else that we could improvise a mould from, we used to compete to see who could make the biggest, or the funniest shapes.

Then came the official announcement of the end of the war. The next two days was spent celebrating, army discipline was relaxed, some of the lads bought cheap rice wine from the little village near our camp.

A really wild party developed, and lasted for the most of two days.

After that it became very difficult to keep the fellers content, all interest had gone now, there was no necessity for us to remain there. All that was on everyone鈥檚 mind was getting back home.

We had a few day trips into the city, what I remember seeing is the Golden Pagoda called The Shewdagong {the spelling of that is suspect}. All the canteens had signs on them POWs only. This was for the lads who had been freed from the POW camps on the Burma railway. Most of them were like walking skeletons so we didn鈥檛 really mind them having priority over us for the canteens.

With the war officially over it was quite a problem for the command to find things for us to do, to keep our minds occupied. Try to imagine spending over three and a half years in a strange country, with tropical heat, the flies, the mosquitoes, the diseases, like Dysentery, Malaria, and in the last year or so we had been kept busy dodging shot and shell from the enemy and be lucky enough not to be one of the unlucky ones who were left there permanently.

We were kept busy for a while doing lots of patrols, because there were lots of Jap still left in the jungle, and lots of them would not believe that their country would surrender. This was a pretty boring sort of a thing to be doing. The question on everyone鈥檚 mind was 鈥淲here鈥檚 the bloody boat鈥�.

We did have a few organized games of Rugby on the Rangoon sports ground. We even had Gracie Fields sing for us at the sports field, there were thousands of us there, and you could have heard a pin drop when she sang Ave Maria, and the clapping and cheering when she finished could have been heard for miles, we all thought she was wonderful.

What I have written is a broad outline of my experience during World War 2. There were many other nasty happenings which I feel I should leave unsaid.

One of the highlights of my three years and ten months in India and Burma was the fourteen days leave that I had to Darjeeling, there was that fantastic little train that climbed the foothills from a little place called Siliguri 300ft above sea level to a little village called Ghoom which is 7500ft above sea level. At times this little train climbed an almost vertical rocky face of the mountain by going forward until it couldn鈥檛 go any further then it would reverse up as far as it could go, then go forward again. It did this several times, and then it actually looped and crossed over its own track. From Ghoom it descended 500ft to Darjeeling. The scenery was breathtaking. We found ourselves looking up at Kangchenjunga the third highest peak in the Himalayan Range, a sight never to be forgotten.

We went on several horseback rides along some of the mountain trails. We also rode up to a lookout spot at dawn to see Mount Everest which was said to be a 100 miles to the west, but could be clearly seen for a short while when the sun rose above the skyline. I will never forget the wonderful scenery at Darjeeling.

Then we went back to Rangoon.

Finally the boat arrived. Its name was Felix Rosse {Rossay} a French Boat. We had to sail down the river in the landing barges that we came in on, it was a nice looking ship and we had a slow but nice voyage home, calling at Colombo, Bombay, Port Suez, Port Said, and Gibraltar, and finally arriving at Southampton.

What a wonderful feeling it was to watch the shores of Britain get closer and closer, and to finally set foot once more on British soil.

What a mammoth job it must have been for the authorities to sort us lot out, there were literally hundreds of thousands of us to contend with. Somehow or other they managed it very well.

We were transported by train to Newtown in north Wales, and within a couple of days we were sorted out, given new uniforms, leave passes, travel warrants, and some of our back pay, and we were on our way home after nearly four years.

The trip home was very nostalgic, this increased as I got closer to my hometown, the place that I had thought many times that I would never see again.

magstan@bigpond.com

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