大象传媒

This story was submitted to the Peoples War site by Jas from Global Information Centre Eastbourne and has been added to the website on behalf of Mr Dent with his permission and he fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions

The chap with the pencil was kept quite busy. Soon a demi-God turned up and said 鈥淢orninsgtmajor 鈥� what we got here then?鈥� 鈥淣ot a bad lot, sir.

Two fast bowlers, a wicket keeper, a goalkeeper, two centre forwards鈥� and so the list went on. I simply couldn鈥檛 believe this. Having spent years dominated by war in one form or another it was strange to be in a place that seemed totally untouched by it.

I have sometimes wondered about the reaction had the Germans broken through in 1942 and over-run this place. I can鈥檛 help feeling they would have been offered a game of football and would they like to learn to play cricket? Fortunately that didn鈥檛 happen.

63rd turned out to be a very large hospital which was part of a large complex that included the Medical Corps base depot 鈥� where we would have gone had it not been full 鈥� two south African hospitals, one black, one white of course, acres of sports pitches, a cinema and various other recreational facilities.

It was a good posting. We also had a combined rugby team and after English club rugby mixing with the south afriks was a bit of an eye opener. As one of them explained to me 鈥渢he difference, cheff, is this 鈥� you cheps play rugby to keep fit. We keep fit to play rugby.鈥� He was right.

After our introduction we were sent off to work in various parts of the hospital. I was sent to assist with the disinfector unit.
My arrival meant that the unit was somewhat over-staffed so we had a pretty easy time.

I must say that these regular army types who probably regarded us as unskilled amateurs couldn鈥檛 have been more friendly and helpful.

I did make my mark at one time when I was sent to fumigate a small ward. I did all the right things, sealed up the window frames, filled the place with a disgusting gas and sealed the door on leaving. Unfortunately, unknown to me and behind a cupboard was a door leading into the next ward so they got two wards fumigated for the price of one.

The patient in the second ward got fumigated too and had to be moved so I wasn鈥檛 popular for a while but the chaps in the disinfector unit found the story highly entertaining.
Because I was still surplus to requirements I tended to get sent on sort of odd jobs.

One of the odd jobs that came up was to 鈥済o straighten up the tents in the Palestine ATS compound because they鈥檙e sagging鈥�. The tents-, not the girls. This was a good move because I knew what I was doing.

Some time in 1940 I had been sent to the Medical Corps depot in Aldershot to be turned into a good NCO. It was an odd experience. As many instructions were conveyed by the bugler, I did my best to learn trumpet, speak but we didn鈥檛 get any real instruction.

I soon learned that every message was preceded by the regimental call sign so that one knew who it was for. In our case it was Da Didi Da Didi Da Didi Dah which was recognisable. If this was followed by the note G three times it meant that a fire or some other disaster had occurred and we should get on to the parade ground.

Another useful one in showery weather just before parade would be Di Di Dee Dee Dah which meant 鈥榩ut your great coats on鈥�. Thus all those who understood would all be dressed the same. On one awful occasion my name went up on the board as 鈥榤arker鈥�; this meant that when the bugle sounded I had to stride out to a small white blob in the middle of the parade ground and then at a second martial blast several hundred men would form up beside and behind me.

If I got it wrong it could be quite an interesting fiasco. The evening before this event I set out on my own and found the blob. I took several bearings and hoped for the best. One black cloud was that I didn鈥檛 know trumpet speak for 鈥榞o and stand on that blob鈥�. So, when at about the right moment a bugle sounded I set off and found the bloody blob first time.

Another tootle and hundreds of men came streaming across the parade ground and formed up round about me. I鈥檇 got it right 鈥� it was a great relief. On another occasion as part of my training I had to accompany the orderly sergeant in the guard room for an evening.

The sergeant and I spent the evening looking suspiciously at the chaps as they showed their passes and signed the book. In the corner of the guard room sat a small boy dressed in uniform and clutching a bugle. Presumably he was classed as a 鈥榖oy soldier鈥�. Suddenly the sergeant said 鈥渘ine thirty fiddler鈥�. It seems that the regular army referred to buglers as 鈥榝iddlers鈥�.

I can鈥檛 comment on this. The boy then tucked the bugle under his arm and marched out across the parade ground. Somewhere in the middle distance he halted, blew the regimental call sign and marched back. 鈥淲hat about the final G, fiddler?鈥� said the sergeant. The boy turned about and on reaching the middle distance blew one note on his bugle and marched back.

The sergeant uttered not a word but gave the boy what can only be described as 鈥榓 look鈥�.
But back to Cairo. One of our training sessions concerned what the army referred to as 鈥榯entage鈥� and by the end of the day I had the know how and could pitch any tent currently on army issue up to and including a marquee.

The ATS compound thing was ideal as far as I was concerned. I soon saw the problem; the girls were hanging their great coats and other weighty clutter on the internal ropes 鈥� they had little alternative
鈥� So I removed the clutter, tightened the ropes both inside and out, hung the clutter back again and all was well.

I had established my capabilities and was promptly appointed to the Quartermaster鈥檚 department I enjoyed this period of military service as I was doing a useful job with congenial company. In charge was a warrant officer quartermaster sergeant, a sergeant whose name I don鈥檛 remember and we managed all the non medical equipment for a very large hospital.

We also had the support of Abdul who made tea and swept the floor. Another Abdul was employed as a painter and a carpenter called Mohammed. He was blind in one eye and known to his friends as Wahid Shufli. Work that out for yourself or come and see me afterwards. These two artisans arrived daily with Abdul the painter walking ahead of Mohammed because he was of a higher social status. I never could work that one out.

The store itself was a corrugated iron building about a hundred yards long and about thirty feet deep. The front panels slid sideways for access. I understand it originated as an armoured car garage. Our section occupied at least half of it and was known as the 鈥榦rdnance store鈥�. Beyond that section 鈥� the linen store 鈥� and at the end the clothing store : uniforms, boots etc. Our stock was laid out on the floor in rows in alphabetical order working its way through brooms sweeping, brushes scrubbing, lockers bedside, towels hand huckaback (my favourite), towels hand terry and so on.

At the far end was a small mountain of my old friend tentage. Laid out like this made it very easy to count. Life was fairly routine mostly swapping new brooms or whatever for old. At the end of the month the worn out stuff taken to and invoiced to a salvage depot. We could then write them off our books and indent for replacements.

It all worked very smoothly with the minimum of paperwork and manpower. That reminds me one of my friends always referred to me as Corporal Indent. After a while I walked into the stores one day and was accosted by the QMS 鈥淎h, Lofty,鈥� He said (that shows how well I had settled in) 鈥淵ou鈥檙e the tinsmith鈥�. 鈥� The what?鈥� I said. 鈥淪ee that sign up there says tinsmith,鈥� There was indeed such a sign hanging from a roof girder and another over Mohammed saying 鈥榗arpenter鈥� and, of course, one over Abdul saying 鈥榩ainter鈥�. 鈥淲ell, that鈥檚 your bench underneath it, so you鈥檇 better get tinsmithing.鈥�

It was fortunate that my father had instructed me in the art of soldering so I knew what it was all about. The problem was that I had only used an electric soldering iron and the one provided had to be heated by a blow lamp, an item of which I had had no experience.

However, after a very incendiary hour I got the hang of the thing and started on my new profession. For starters I had been given a couple of food trays to mend. These were fairly large trays with hot water tanks as a base, like much hospital equipment they appeared to have been handled rather clumsily. (flying from one end of the kitchen to the other on a regular basis).

The result was that the patients were liable to get their meals served with hot water. It was one hell of a job but I persevered and succeeded and my future was assured. The jobs came thick and fast and I also devised a way of unblocking primus stoves. I was never idle and quite enjoyed my way of life.

Then one day came the shock. I was to be posted away, where to-? The 3rd Malaria Field Laboratory. What and where is that I wondered. I soon found out; I was lodged with another corporal 鈥� Ross Hunt 鈥� who was actually a member of the 3rd malaria etc.

We shared a room on the roof of 15th (Scottish) general Hospital situated on the bank of the Nile opposite Gezira Island鈥� where the posh people played polo.

I was given to understand that we were invading Sicily at the time and were getting a large number of casualties from malaria and 3rd Malaria etc had devised an insect repellent that kept the mosquitoes away.

This stuff was being produced by ICI (yes, Imperial Chemical Industries) in a run down factory in one of the more sordid parts of Cairo. There had been problems and Ross and I had the job of checking the weights and measures of all the ingredients.

The factory operated two twelve hour shifts a day churning out about three tons of the stuff and closed down for a day at week ends. Thus Ross and I would alternate: a week on days and then a week on nights.

Because there was no way we could fit in with army meal times we were paid six shillings and eight pence a day to buy our own meals. As we were paid fortnightly this meant that we ate well for two days and then survived on spaghetti for much of the rest of the time.

We didn鈥檛 see much of 15th Scottish but I think it must have been established by the regular army for many years because the smart Sudanese bartenders with their white night shirt type garments, red sashes and red tarbush(like Tommy Coopers) all spoke with Glasgow accents (鈥淲it ye haavin?鈥�)).

Quite a surprise at one鈥檚 first meeting.
Ross soon introduced me to 鈥榤usic for all鈥�, a wonderful institution. The Brits that lived in Cairo were used to having the army around but on the outbreak of war a group of them got together because, as they put it, 鈥渨e shall be entertaining a citizen鈥檚 army who would appreciate something more than just a dartboard and a sandwich鈥�.

They organised the use of a large building with a stage and a sizeable auditorium, created a waiter service restaurant (at forces prices), a rest room and a library. A quartet played at lunch time, a trio at tea time (British customs not easily disturbed) and every evening a concert on gramophone records: sometimes a symphony concert or a complete opera.

They had all the original Glyndebourne recordings of Mozart鈥檚鈥� operas. There would be programmes of light music and occasional live performances from pianists and singers.

It was a perfect retreat from a chaotic world. The price of admission was three piastres 鈥� seven pence halfpenny in old money. I spent much of my spare time there and I think it really changed my life in many respects.

The staff at the factory were easy to get on with. They consisted of a few British ex pats and two shifts of about twenty Arabs most of whom stirred dustbins filled with the completed mix which, being an emulsion, had to be kept on the move until it was cool otherwise it would separate again.

As the temperature of the place was not in the least conducive to cooling there was a lot of stirring.
It was a friendly place to work. The Arabs were a fun loving lot who enjoyed a joke and everything worked well.

One slight drawback was that Ross was remarkably accident prone and when he was in hospital I had to cover the night shift. I didn鈥檛 mind this as in some ways its much easier on the body clock to keep to the same routine. I would come off shift at eight am and probably with a coffee and croissant or something would retire to the little room on the roof and go to bed.

Sleep wasn鈥檛 easy: for a start it was too hot for comfort and it seemed that much of the morning was spent in throwing metal bed pans up and down the corridors and dropping cutlery on a regular basis. When the food trolleys started their rounds at mid-day, I would go back to 鈥榤usic for all鈥�, relax during the lunch time concert then to the rest room and sit and probably doze until it was time to get back to the Boulac factory for the night shift.

It fell to my lot on a fairly regular basis to drive into town and collect three barrels of burning oil for cooking the stuff we were making. ICI鈥檚 only lorry had broken down and was useless so they hired a donkey and cart to do the job.

We drove through the busy part of town with the Arab and me in little more that a white lab coat sitting up front and into Kasr El Nil Barracks, the British Army Headquarters. The chap on the main gate was a bit dubious and sent for the Sergeant Major. After three quarters of an hour he turned up and after scowling at my requisition form for some time said 鈥淚 suppose you鈥檇 better go and get it.

The fuel depot鈥檚 round the corner on the right.鈥� My arrival with the donkey and cart sparked off a fair amount of coarse humour. When after several weeks I turned up with the repaired truck I was bombarded with kindly enquiries about the health and fate of the donkey.

After about six months we stopped making insect repellents and started on rosalex substitute. 鈥楻osalex鈥� was an early form of barrier cream.

The substitute consisted of a saturated solution of soapflakes in water with French chalk. I can鈥檛 imagine how any mechanic could work with this stuff all over their hands. Ross and I found it nuisance enough.

Part of the operation involved us in plunging our arms into the vats and groping about for lumps of French chalk that hadn鈥檛 mixed properly with the soap. The wash and rinse under the tap produced more lather than could be got rid of.

The next bright idea that someone came up with was 鈥榓nti louse body belts鈥�. These turned out to be pieces of cloth with little pleats into which some form of flea powder could be rubbed. At this stage it was felt that the skills and expertise that Ross and I provided were no longer needed so Ross was sent back to wherever 3rd Malaria came from and I was added to the staff of 15th Scottish and returned to my hermit鈥檚 cell on the roof.

Once again I was surplus to requirements 鈥� therefore odd job boy, very odd. It was getting near Christmas and I was introduced to a large truck and its driver.

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