大象传媒

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

Chapter Eight

UK TRAINING

Life in a Transport company was initially lacklustre. We seemed to be cut off from other units particularly after the close association we had had with other regiments in the Panda division. Little remains in the memory simply because there was little worthwhile to recall. We began to acquire regular runs which led to 鈥渃atering on the wheel鈥�. This meant drivers depending on the cookhouse to deliver ready-made meals at an agreed map reference. We seem to hit a bad patch when drivers and meal lorry failed to meet up with each other and the drivers went hungry. Each convoy was led by an officer (Lieutenant) and the meal lorry by a corporal. Each was sure they read the map reference correctly. The OC was determined to find the cause by sending a more senior rank on the next trip. As my readers will have already guessed, in Biblical terms 鈥渢he lot fell on Captain Rawlings鈥� presently the Administrative Officer at Company HQ. To me this would mean an interesting diversion.
The convoy had been loaded up during the night and we moved off at dawn. The route was straightforward and delivery was on time. I had chosen the map reference where we were to meet the dinner lorry with care so that the convoy could be seen by those approaching from either direction. The lay-by was large enough to take the whole convoy and allow the drivers room to take exercise. We were at the meeting point on time but the food never arrived. The drivers were getting angrier by the minute and were openly grumbling when I made the decision to get back to the company as soon as possible. I sent a corporal on ahead to warn the cookhouse of our ETA (expected time of arrival) so that a hot meal was ready. The reason for this 鈥渃ock-up鈥� as the OC described it, was never found. For my part I was sure we were at the right spot particularly as I had carefully chosen the rendezvous. The map reference had been sent to the mess corporal in writing but could not be checked as the note had been destroyed. The food lorry driver swore that he had waited at the given reference but, again, his written instructions had been destroyed. The mystery deepened as future convoys always met the food lorry and received their hot meal on time. At the informal 鈥渋n house鈥� enquiry the OC, who had an uncanny way with words, concluded that problems would not necessarily be solved just by sending a more senior rank to take command. I cannot find the right words to describe his facial expression as he spoke with his eyes fixed on me.
Another memorable convoy was charged with an urgent delivery of ammunition. All went well as we used B roads where an emergency could be contained with minimum interruption to the civilian population. As my staff car was moving at the head of the column a DR (despatch rider) drew up alongside and whilst still on the move, attempted to tell me that one of the lorries was on fire. It was a little time before I could get the urgency of his message. I turned off the road and told the leading lorry to continue on the planned route. At the same time I instructed the DR to get back and stop the lorry behind the one on fire, and then to stop the burning lorry allowing those in front to distance themselves from what might happen. I need not have worried as, by the time I got to the scene, the tail of the convoy was stopped well behind the burning lorry and the vehicles in front were already in the distance thus isolating the risk. What is more, the fire was being tackled by the driver and was soon under control. A large camouflage net stored between the cab and the truck had come loose and fallen on the exhaust. All lorries were then checked to ensure than nets were safely stored.
This was one of the many instances where the ingenuity and action by individuals is spontaneous and that strengthened the bond between them irrespective of rank.
The above reminds me of another occasion involving fire. We were in the country near Uckfield and I was in charge of a section of troop carriers. The section was billeted in the outbuildings of a very large house. These consisted of stables, garages, staff cottages and the like. The mess was in a large, empty garage in which army stoves and cooking paraphernalia had been installed. When we took over there had been some objections from the owners who remained in residence in the house who were naturally concerned with the possible damage by fire or accident. I was instructed to watch these points particularly. It was probably my insurance training which made me examine these potential risks academically and write fire precautions and instructions, install water points, escape routes etc. I was not there when the fire started in the kitchen. It had got a firm hold by the time the county Fire Brigade arrived but had been extinguished by the time I returned.
The damage was considerable and an enquiry was set up. The chairman was from Area HQ, and the members included a senior fire brigade officer and a specialist from War Office. The mess corporal and myself were the only witnesses. The senior fireman reported on appliances sent, time of arrival and of departure. The corporal told how the fire started and efforts to tackle the blaze. I gave details of my actions before and after the fire. The remaining member remained silent. The chairman seemed to steer the discussions towards finding a scapegoat for what had happened, the more so as the cause of the fire was clearly accidental. Responsibility, said the chairman, must be in poor management control in that what had been done to prevent a fire had been ineffective. All questions were now directed at me but did not identify anything remotely or directly the cause of the fire. The War Office member was invited to give his opinion. In his capacity as the War Office forensic officer, he told the chairman that he was the only member who had taken the trouble to visit the scene of the fire, and to examine all the points on which so much time had been wasted. He had checked the installation of the stove where the fire had started, he had counted the number and position of fire points and availability of water, had checked the time the call to the fire brigade was made, the speed of their response, all of which were within acceptable limits. The chairman, clearly annoyed, thanked him for his views but he was satisfied that the officer in charge of the detachment was responsible and, if so, it must be in something that had not been done rather than in those areas cleared by the forensic expert. Then he played his trump card. Addressing the forensic officer, he said that he had not mentioned that War Office regulations stipulated that at all temporary billets, such as the one damaged by fire, printed fire notices giving relevant information must be displayed clearly and in adequate numbers. That he said, was the cause of the fire as the troops had not been told how to stop fires happening and this would be the basis of his report. I could see myself at a Court Martial or worse until the forensic expert replied. 鈥淲ell, sir, that is your privilege but if you do so I will not support you. Before I leave, perhaps you would like to read these鈥� and he handed a bundle of water stained papers which I instantly recognised were those I had written laboriously and supervised their distribution when we first set up our billet. As he left the room he had a parting shot 鈥淚 collected them myself and consider them to be extremely thorough in their content and distribution, even if the writing could have been a little better鈥�.
There was much talk but little detail of the second front and the following is the last episode before Overlord. We were back in the south again, this time at Felsted, a public school in mid Essex. I think the pupils had been evacuated as the Army seemed to have access to most of the buildings including a large assembly hall in which dances were regularly held. Our travels had taken us to the North as far as Otterburn and the Northumbrian firing ranges, to Morpeth and across to the Lake District. Again we turned east to Yorkshire where we were billeted in a little hamlet called Settrington. We made good friends of the local postmaster and his village stores. Muriel was with me at the time and after the war we had the family at our home and, many years later, visited their eldest daughter in York. The company then went south to Uckfield, then to Maidstone and eventually to Shenfield in Essex. This constant moving robbed us of civilian contact and it was always my first personal duty, when settling in a new billet, to find accommodation for Muriel and Josephine. My most successful sources were the local church. I studied the congregation or, as in Yeovil, the choir behind the Minister. I selected a suitable candidate and at the inevitable coffee and cakes after the service, I invariably met the girl of my choice. I had to work fast as there was no certainty that we would meet again. After the second coffee when conversation was flowing freely, I dropped the hint that I was looking for digs for my wife and child. It may have been my natural charm or just because I was a soldier away from home, but it usually worked most times with the girl鈥檚 family.
This approach was not always possible as in the present case at Felsted, as this was in a protected area into which I was not allowed to bring my family. Whilst I didn鈥檛 have the digs problem, neither did I have the excuse of buttonholing candidates at church services. The next successful scheme was to make contact at dances and this is the method I used at Felsted. The dances were well supported by all ranks including a contingent from the ATS, who were also billeted in the college grounds, and the locals. At one dance I was watching with some amusement a young ATS officer being pushed around the floor by a Brigadier who had no respect for rhythm or the correct steps. She was certainly not enjoying the experience. I was with a group of fellow officers and we discussed who would rescue the maiden from her distress. In view of the Brigadier鈥檚 rank no one was keen to offer help but I could see the potential of re-establishing contact with the fair sex and accepted the bet. To be honest I had already made eye contact with the girl whose eyes were inviting me to save her from her heavy-footed companion. At the next 鈥淓xcuse Me鈥� I sidled up to the Brigadier and saved the young lady from further damage. She was a pleasant person and we met several times at subsequent dances. At what was to be our last dance, as I as walking her back to her quarters, I invited her in for a drink or coffee at our Officers Mess which we were just passing. As soon as I entered, there was a sudden hush. Before ordering the drinks, I introduced the lady to my company commander in accordance with Mess etiquette. Some of the other officers tried to keep the conversation going but the atmosphere was unfriendly and we left as soon as we could. Nothing was ever said although I was told that the following morning that the OC was seen entering the Queen Bee鈥檚 (Head of local ATS) office for reasons unknown. A day or two later I was ordered to take over sections at Ingatestone just too far to get to the weekly dances. A few weeks later the company moved to Brentwood where a new phase of my military life was developing.

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