大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Ann Redgrave of Norfolk Adult Education鈥檚 reminiscence team on behalf of Wesley Piercy and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

A Baker at War 鈥� Part 3

In Parts 1 and 2 of this story I told how I came to be working as a baker soldier in France during the Second World War, and how I made my escape from France when they surrendered.

On returning to England I took a train to Northwich, and was taken to Marbury Hall, a mansion set in a large park. The hall itself was occupies by the officers鈥� mess, and tents in the park were full of men who had been evacuated from Dunkirk, so we had to bed down in the open air, and in the rain which came down for most of the night. We were old enough campaigners by now to be able to keep reasonably dry. Next morning we were taken to Wincham Hall, Lostock Gralam, where we were billeted in the house and stayed for several days. We began to get impatient and when we were told that the Dunkirk evacuees had all had a short leave we thought we should too. This led to a good deal of discontent and complaints, so the CO decided we should go back to Marbury to have some leave sorted out. There it was decided that those with the longest journeys should go on leave first so that everyone could have two days at home. Norfolk was far enough away to qualify and so I was one of the first to go. When I arrived home I found that my mother had received a notice from the war office saying that I had been reported missing. Fortunately she had heard from me in England or she would have been rather worried. It seemed that they thought I had gone down with the Lancastria which had been bombed at St Nazaire with the loss of four thousand lives.

When the time came to go back I waited for the last train which would get me back in time, but it was late getting into Sheffield so I missed the connection to Manchester. This meant that I missed the last train to Northwich, and was taken to the YMCA for a meal and a bed for the night. We were called in the morning in time to catch the first train, but I and three others went to sleep again and so got to Northwich even later than we thought. When we eventually rolled in we found everyone ready to move out. We should have been with the party that was moving, but when we got back we were collared by the Regimental Police Sergeant and put to work with the rear party who were clearing up the camp. This sergeant delighted in giving people the most unpleasant jobs he could find, and we were given the job of emptying the latrine pails.

Later that day we were sent on after the rest of our party, and were joined by a couple of other latecomers, so that we were now a party of six. We had to change at Rugby so we decided to go for a cup of tea and a roll. In the refreshment room we found that there was nothing to pay 鈥� there was a box there in which you could put donations.

Our destination was Newark, and from there a lorry took us to our new camp at Sutton on Trent. It turned out to be a Recruit Reception and Training Centre. We were put into a holding company attached to this unit, but were kept separate from the recruits who had finished training and were awaiting posting. We were always just the BEF. In the morning it was 鈥淥n parade the BEF鈥� and we started a round of foot drill, arms drill, musketry and a bit of map reading. After a week or two some of the survivors of the Lancastria turned up and we heard their story of its sinking.

After a time the BEF started to be dispersed to other units and I and Lofty Tomlin volunteered for a party that was being posted to patrol the marshes by the Trent watching for airborne landings. We had a large tent to ourselves, apart from the others, and did not have to go on ordinary parades. There were not enough rifles to go round for everyone in the camp so they were issued for training in rotation. We had rifles which we kept, as well as fifty rounds of ammunition. Every night one section would go to the marshes at dusk and patrol the riverside til dawn. The two sections would go on alternate nights and the day times were spent in training.

Some time in September there was an invasion scare and we had to carry our rifles and ammunition everywhere we went 鈥� to the cookhouse, the latrine and when we went out for a walk in the evening. This went on for a week or so, but of course, nothing happened. We were glad when we were able to leave our rifles behind again; it was bad enough having to carry a respirator and steel helmet all the time.

The Battle of Britain was going on while we were at Sutton but it did not affect us very much. A stick of bombs was dropped on the perimeter of the camp, one of which did not go off. Some of us then had to go and stand guard over it in case someone pinched it.

One day a strange officer came from some HQ to see what we were doing, and he had us turned out as though it was a real thing. As far as we knew it was so we grabbed our rifles and ran to take up our positions. When we found out it was only an exercise we unloaded our rifles 鈥� at least, most of us did. There were some horses grazing on the other side of the river and this officer said 鈥淎t that horse, five rounds rapid fire鈥�. One shot rang out. The Corporal who had not unloaded argued that he had not been told to and that he should always obey the last order. A party went across the river to look at the horse. When they came back they said they could not find a mark on it, so it must have died of a heart attack. We never heard of any repercussions from the owner of the horse or if he knew anything about the rifle shot.

At the beginning of October the camp was preparing to break up for the winter. All the ex-BEF men were posted to other units, and I was sent to Chester with the rest of the bakers. Here we were given billets, had a meal and then were given no further orders. Paddy Collins and I decided to have a look round Chester. We found it a fascinating place and forgot the passing time. When we got back to the billet we found that everyone else had gone. There was a note pinned to our kits telling us to report to HQ immediately. We were given movement orders and railway warrants and I made my way to Leamington Spa.

It was evening before I arrived in Leamington and when I found the address I had been given it turned out that I should not have been sent there at all, but should be at another place some distance away. Everybody there was billeted in private houses and so I had to spend the night in the guard room. My destination the next morning turned out to be the RASC HQ for the Central Midland area. I went into an office full of clerks and gave my particulars to one of them. When he discovered that I was from Norfolk he called to the chief clerk 鈥淗ere鈥檚 another one from Norfolk sir鈥�. It transpired that they all came from Norfolk, including the chief clerk. He asked me what my trade was and told me that I could go to either Solihull or Stratford-Upon-Avon. This was the only time I ever had a choice and I picked on Stratford. I was driven to the station in a staff car, and told I should be met at the other end.

My destination this time was CSD Banbury Road, Stratford. It turned out to be about two miles out of the town. When I asked the way a policeman told me to go over the bridge and stop the first car that came along. Which I did, and was duly deposited at The Dump. The first thing I was asked when I arrived was 鈥淒o you play football?鈥� Footballers had priority at the Dump. I was put into a tent with some other recent arrivals as all the huts were full. An extra hut was ready in a few weeks.

The Dump got its name through being on the site of a former Council rubbish tip. It was now the Supply Command Depot for the area, with part of it being run by the army and the other part by the NAAFI. It was also a coal dump and coal was carted in from the pits every day, even though none ever went out in the months I was there. It was a salvage dump too, where the Army鈥檚 empty tins were crushed and baled by two elderly Pioneers.

During my time at Stratford the big air raid on Coventry occurred. The German planes came over us most of the might and we could hear the bombs and see the fires. No bombs were dropped at Stratford but part of a plane fell into a field opposite the Dump.

When I first got to Stratford there was a detachment of Royal Warwicks doing guard duties, but after a time they were taken away and we did our own guards. We used to mount guard in the proper regimental fashion. The new guard paraded outside the office, was inspected by the orderly corporal, then we marched to the guardroom where the old guard presented arms to the new guard and the new guard presented arms to the old guard. The two guard commanders go to the guard room to hand over, leaving the men standing at ease outside. On one occasion while this was going on I noticed that the chap next to me had his rifle cocked. When I drew his attention to it he just pulled the trigger and it went off. He had got a round up the spout by mistake. Nobody seemed to notice, but next day a man who had been in a field some distance away came to complain that somebody had been shooting at him.

Stratford was a pleasant place to be stationed, with a cinema, several decent pubs and of course the Shakespeare Theatre when I could afford it. When I first got there we were the only troops in the place, and the place was full of girls. However, I was aware that I would not be in Stratford forever, and at some point would be sent back to a field bakery. Just before Christmas, volunteers for overseas were asked for, but I had been a soldier long enough now to know not to volunteer for anything.

By this time somebody in records had woken up to the fact that a body who was supposed to be missing was drawing pay, and questions began to be asked. I suppose they thought I might be an enemy agent, and I had to persuade the powers that be that I was myself. This was all straightened out eventually and I was officially back on the strength. Now that they knew they had a spare baker in Stratford I was not to be left there for long. I went home on privilege leave and when I returned I was sent to Barry Island.

Barry Island was where people were posted to new units which were being formed for the Middle East. We were billeted here for a few days while being fitted out with tropical kit and new battle dress. This battle dress was a perfect fit 鈥� the best I ever had 鈥� it鈥檚 a pity it was taken away as soon as I arrived in Egypt. I was posted to No.33 Bakery in Gilestone where I met several old acquaintances from the BEF days. All the ex BEF in the unit had stripes apart from me as my recommendation had come too late because of having been on leave.

These new bakeries were one third the size of those used by the BEF. They still had an SSM as Master Baker, but there was a sergeant in charge of sub-sections. Besides SSM Peat there was SQMS Nifty Smith who had been a Corporal in my sub-section in France. After a week or two we were sent home on embarkation leave, and after coming back we got on a train to Liverpool in the middle of the night. We got off at a station called Marsh Lane and marched through slummy streets, where there were old ladies in men鈥檚 caps and sacking aprons standing on their doorsteps, wishing us well as we went past. We eventually arrived at Gladstone Docks which had suffered severely fo bombing. Here, we boarded a ship, the Strathallan, a P&O liner in peacetime. Later in the day, when all the troops were on board, she sailed off down the Mersey. In Liverpool Bay we found ourselves in the company of about a dozen other ships, and later on, somewhere off Northern Ireland, we were joined by another dozen. We were also joined by two battleships 鈥� HMS Nelson and HMS Ramillies as well as an assortment of other naval craft.

We sailed in a westerly direction for the first few days and then changed course for the south east to the Azores. After about three weeks at sea we saw the Azores in the distance. From the first day out I had the job of helping out in the ship鈥檚 bakery, baking for about 2000 troops and 500 crew, about four times the usual number of passengers. We had all our meals in the bakery, eating the same food as the crew and the officers, which was much better fare than that dished out to the troops.

When we left the Azores behind and got nearer to the African coast there was a danger of enemy U-boats operating form the Vichy French port of Dakar. The water tight doors were closed and there was a lot of lashing about by our escorting destroyers. We did hear a few bangs but never knew what they were about.

Our first stop was at Freetown where we anchored in the harbour to take on water and fuel. Here we lay for five days with the ship getting hotter and hotter. The metalwork was too hot to touch and everyone was suffering from prickly heat so we were all thankful when we put out to sea again. The next stop was at Capetown where we stayed for four days and were able to go ashore. It felt good to have solid ground under our feet for the first time in five weeks. We were treated with great hospitality by the people of Capetown, who invited us into their homes and made a great fuss of us.

After leaving Capetown we were reunited with the ships that went to Durban, making out convoy complete again. As Madagascar was now occupied by South African troops we went through the Mozambique Channel, along the east coast of Africa and up to the Red Sea, reaching Port Tewfik on 12th May, eight weeks after setting sail. We transferred to very old, battered ship, the City of London, which had earlier taken part in the evacuation of Crete. Accommodation on her was very rough. We were put into the hold which was alive with vermin. The latrine arrangements consisted of a corrugated iron structure projecting over the ship鈥檚 side. It seems we should have sailed through the Suez Canal, but it was blocked by a sunken ship.

Nobody seemed to want us or know what to do with us. We were eventually taken by lorry to a large camp, which stretched for about seven miles, called el Tahag. Here we stayed for a few weeks, getting acclimatised. We were not allowed to go out without a solar topee during the day, or to leave our tents at all in the middle of the day. At other times we did a bit of drill, and while we were here I was made up to a Lance Corporal.

My story continues in a separate People鈥檚 War site entry under the title of 鈥淎 Baker at War 鈥� Part 4鈥�.

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