大象传媒

Part 2 of a story submitted by Philip Miles

But it all had to end, "get your kit together, you're posted". I thought off to France like everyone else at that time. I told Jill, I鈥檓 off tomorrow and they won't tell me anything. So we agreed not to get engaged or make any commitments just to write letters! Next day I was on a troop train at night, to finish at a strange city that proved to be Liverpool. And then I was on another troop ship for 6 weeks, escorted by Royal Navy Destroyers who attacked German submarines through the Straits of Gibraltar, and on to Bombay!
Jill got letters cut to bits by the censors and I got nothing, but Bombay was nice - sea front, (sodium street lights which I鈥檇 never seen before), electric trams and trains - all new to me (and blacked out in England). I stayed in an RAF transit camp for about a month. Then I received a train ticket to Calcutta on a troop train which took more than a week, with a hot meal sometimes when we stopped at a station but the rest of the time we ate American K rations. They weren't too bad when we could get hot water to mix the soup with.
Once again I was alone, no mates, and then a transfer to Alipore where all the trains turned around and the posh rich kids lived. My billet was a big house in a nice town with native policemen on the gate, (who seemed to let anyone in regardless), and half a dozen Indian boys who cooked lovely chips for a few annas. My room overlooked the lawn and had only one occupant, an Indian RAF man, I never did find out what he did. He must have been one of us and he was very nice and a devout Hindu. His father was a high ranking Hindi priest (I never met him). My room mate was very friendly and took me to some Indian army entertainment. We ate in the RAF canteen and I gave him my rice on exchange for his meat, which he would never touch.
Alipore was a photo reconnaissance unit with (at last) Mosquito aircraft. I was in charge of 鈥楢' flight and had all airforce and instrument mechanics, most of the men were not keen upon having a strange NCO put in over them. I knew none of them, and they had been together all the way through Burma with photo reconnaissance spitfires, dating back from the time Singapore fell to Japan, all the way to India. And who was this mystery man (who knew about the new aircraft?) which none of them had ever seen before. So I was not the most popular bloke and I didn't even live with them but went off to my posh billet only to appear the next day.
Any major jobs and air tests, I was in charge (but not over the engine fitters they were a separate unit but they still lived with the other gangs). Any air tests I did, I flew with the ordinary pilot of that particular plane, and quite a few times I flew with the Group Captain. I got to know him quite well, really a nice man but again it did not make me the most popular, but what could I do it was my job. One day a few of us were taken to Dum Dum, Calcutta, where we spent a few days to see what happened to all the photography and how they (mostly girls) interpreted them. Four of us slept in little dark rooms in the Harem of the Palace of the Maharaja of Cooch Behar who had long since gone (taking all the harem girls with him.)
Then it all started again "pack your kit you're off tomorrow." Where ? I never knew, Kandy, Trincullee, wherever the Mosquitoes went, I went, flying once (in a two seater aircraft) with four blokes packed in, with me sat on top of the radio, the rest in the bomb bay, anywhere ! I stayed 鈥榓ttached鈥� to the Fleet Air Arm and then was flown back to Alipore. But no rest for me. I was given a train ticket and a week鈥檚 American K rations with free cigs (though I never smoked), unarmed and flying with unarmed aircraft. I stopped sometimes long enough to get boiling water for the soup and to brew the K ration tea. Finally at the end of the West Coast Indian Railway it was off on a ferry crossing to Ceylon (Sri Lanka). A few days then at Trincullee and the Royal Navy (I got rum ration there too).
But soon the Mosquitoes were off again to the transit camp in Columbo where I turned up with my orders and my credentials. As usual they knew nothing about me, who I was or what I was supposed to be doing there. So I spent a nice time on the beach and in the town and no-one asked why. They just gave me a bed and plenty to eat and that was about it, the lone ranger again. After a week or two the transit camp sent a truck and told me there get all your kit ready you're posted to the Cocos Islands to replace a bloke who crash landed there. He was the only one of the crew that survived. When you get there he can go home. "Good,鈥� I said, "never heard of the place, how do I get there." "Now there's the snag," he said, "a boat calls there with supplies once a month, so you're stuck unless something else turns up." Another week and something did turn up, an RAF Liberator Bomber was flying out to Australia and is refueling on the Cocos Islands. If I could get my travel pass signed by a ranking officer I could get on it. I would be able to nip off whilst the Lib refueled. Well I had my pass and I only need it signing.
I knew the HQ of South East Asia was at Columbo, there must be some high ranking officers there. So I presented myself in my still CPL Miles uniform and passed the armed guards who saluted and let me through. I went up to the desk and the bloke at the window pushed a list of officers through to me and said who do you want to see. I did a quick scan and picked a Wing Commander (I've since forgotten his name) I have to see him I said. 鈥淵es sir. On the 3rd floor just ask up there.鈥� So I did (good job I wasn't a spy). On the 3rd floor I met an Indian army girl, a WACC. She had a tray with cups, plates, sugar and biscuits she looked at my pass to see the Wing Commander and said, "Oh I'll save you the trip, wait here I鈥檓 just about to take him his tea. A few minutes after that she returned with a signed pass. And off I went as fast as I could, to get out of the building before anyone asked me any questions.
I turned up with my pass at the Transit camp, "Right come back on Wednesday and we'll take you to your plane, bring all your kit and don鈥檛 say where you are going." (I didn't know anyway so I couldn't tell anyone). Calcutta International Airport was (and still is) in Dum Dum; just outside the city. There was my plane parked in the lay by and I was told to go aboard and wait. When I climbed on board surprise, surprise, this was no ordinary bomber it was fitted out like a transatlantic airliner ! Complete with radio, books and magazines and a stewardess who showed me to my seat. I was all alone, no passengers just me. Then things happened , a couple of posh cars rolled up with flags on the front and out came 6 officers who were shown to their seats by the stewardess (but not next to me). And within a few minutes we were up the main runway and we were off.
Now I had no idea where these islands were and I was told to settle down as it would be at least a four hour flight. I think 1 went to sleep until we landed on the runway cut right through the jungle. I gathered my kit together and off I went whilst the lib was refueling, a truck took me to a group of timber HQ buildings and they gave me some grub and a bed. Next morning I was taken to the end of the runway where there were a line of parked Mosquitoes. They were inspected daily by a small ground crew and sent off on operations over the Indian Ocean and beyond as far as Burma and Malaya. After a few trips they would go back for major refueling to India to be replaced by fresh ones. I didn't do anything much except to help with the overnight parking and put on the wheel covers.
We lived in tents, my mate and I shared one pitched right on the edge of the beach under a Jacaranda tree, lovely red flowers, next to us was a Frangaparis tree every evening this tree scented the whole area with its flowers. We were warned do not put your tent near a coconut tree when ripe they fall all of 50 feet without warning and one on your head could crack your skull. All was not like an island paradise, 2 foot long black centipedes would bite like a snake and crippled my tent mate by biting his ankle when he was too house proud and lifted up the corner of the ground sheet. Then there were rats ""harmless" they told us, I never heard or saw anyone who was bitten by one, and they were quite tame. I was once writing to my mother and I wrote I'm sitting on my bed but I have to keep very still because there is a large rat sitting on my foot, (at least I knew where it was).
Then there was the food, all tinned stuff, flown in from Australia. I particularly liked the steak and kidney pie. We had a cook house that served us hot food sometimes. The freshly baked currant bread was very nice. Until they told me the currants were weevils from the stored flour, quite harmless they said after all, "they've been baked."
Then of course I got my usual posting, "You are off to Ho Chi Min city in Saigon". I packed all of my gear, picked up my Sten gun and the invasion forces had already left Ceylon and were to land in 5 days time. We would have flown in 5 days time but then they dropped the atom bomb on Japan, so everything was off. An awful thing to end the war but it probably saved thousands of lives on both sides - perhaps mine.
So what could our Mosquitoes do? 'We dropped leaflets over POW camps in the Malayian jungle to tell the Japanese that their Emperor had surrendered. (I still have the leaflet printed in 4 languages.) Many of the Japs did not believe it at first, some that did, killed themselves. We were kept busy loading the leaflets onto the planes. Finally many of us told we had finished, that we were being sent home! My friend the Squadron Commander was to be sent home to Australia. He had a long talk with me saying, "Don't go back to England most of the big cities and towns are in ruins. Come back with me to Australia. I will find you somewhere to live, and there are plenty of good jobs for carpenters. I will easily sponsor you for an entry permit."
Well of course I had a good think about this, and I said no. I thanked him for all he had done for me, but my land army girl has stuck with me, writing letters, and she said she said she'd be waiting at home for me when I came home, (After nearly four years). So it was goodbye to Australia and back to England, or was it?
They flew me back to Bombay where as usual no-one knew who I was. I had no papers, no money; I hadn't been paid for a couple of years. So they put me in HQ where I sorted out my papers and passed RAF men who were shipped back to England, while I was left behind. Finally, a message came through from 684 Squadron. All my papers went with them to Saigon where they were promptly trapped my rebels who were fighting against the French. They were all safe but they weren't allowed to leave the area. For 6 weeks I was busy sending other people home, until a single Beaufighter flew into Saigon and brought my papers out. It was enough to let them put me on the boat (which promptly broke down) and limped back to England on half power. So that was that, the dad who fell off the map was home at last. And I was in such a shape that Jill hardly knew me. I left at a healthy 9 stone 10, and was now down to 6 stone, 10. My demob suit fell off me. I was so thin and suffering from a fever, that I didn't shake it off for years.

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