大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by a volunteer from Humshaugh on behalf of John Bradshaw and has been added to the site with his permission. John Bradshaw fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

NO HEROICS, NO DRAMA.
A PRIVATE鈥橲 WAR

by John Bradshaw

May 1940 : I was told to report for a medical check to the armed forces. Although my eyesight was less than good (a damaged right eye from a childhood accident) I was otherwise fit and so passed. I received my call up papers and only reported to the East Lancashire Regiment which was stationed at Squires Gate Camp, Blackpool.

Training then commenced but without weapons as, at that time, there were none available here. A great many had been left behind at Dunkirk. After some weeks of drilling, marching and saluting, we finally received some rifles Voss from WW1. They were Canadian I believe. This was to cause a few problems for me.

I found firing a rifle lefthanded that was meant for right handed use very awkward. But so began the months of learning soldiering. The war seemd to have begun in earnest. Each night we could hear planes going over to bomb Liverpool although we never actually saw them. Around October, we were moved to Gosport near Portsmouth. There I saw the only planes I was to see in England 鈥� an old Walrus Biplane and a Royal Navy plane. It was here that I volunteered for the Royal Signals and so began my travels - commencing by ship with a long cruise via The Cape of Good Hope to India with memorable stops enroute in Durban and Mombasa.

My ship docked in Bombay on 15 March 1941 and I finally boarded the SS Orion (a previous luxury liner) there on 1 March 1945 bound for home. In the middle was 4 years of mixed soldiering in India.

First stop 鈥� Mhow, the Signals Depot in Central India. My brother John joined me there having also volunteered from the Lancashire Fusiliers but we soon parted company again. I went to Peshawar NWFrontier, up the Khyber Pass whilst John was to join liaison duties with the RAF in Arakan. By December I was on the move again. This time south to the 23rd Indian Division but not for long.

Jhansi, Ranchi was the next stop. Then, from there, a six week rail journey with DIV Transport to a railhead in Assam. A scary drive up the mountain pass to Kohima and on to Imphal. My sight had been deteriorating all the time and I went sick to a jungle hospital. The C.O. was an Indian Colonel who had me examined and then ended my enrolment in the war, by downgrading me and sending me back to Mhow. Later I was sent to Jubbul Port, the Indian Depot. This was during 1942 and there I remained until 1945 when I was repatriated and eventually discharged in 1946. I never saw a tank the whole time although I did see a Bren carrier. I saw a total of 9 planes, 2 at Gosport, 1 at Freetown and 6 going over to China. Apart from my eyesight, I arrived home OK but with many humerous events that are lodged in my memory.

I had quite a habit of taking unauthorised leave to check on my family. Whilst doing so at Squires Gate, we thumbed a lift as 2 OFUS. A car duly stopped to offer us a lift. The driver turned out to be the Camp Commanding Officer! His query as to where we were going received the instant reply reply 鈥淐hurch Sir鈥�. 鈥淗op in, I鈥檓 going there too鈥�. Some quick thinking and then 鈥淲e are meeting our parents first at the bus station鈥�. I doubt he believed us. But he dropped us at the church which was near the bus station and where we were heading for.

Another memorable incident occurred near Kohima whilst taking a shower bath under a waterfall in cave opening. I finished my bath, turned around for my towel only to discover I was the object of much fun and laughter for a whole Naga tribe of men, women and children who were all squatting at the cave mouth, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle!

Back in England, having finished my Service, I spent several months in Tenby, South Wales where the best part of the whole episode was meeting the lady who later became my wife for 55 years. The last move was to Salisbury and more unauthorised leave taking. And so to demob 1946, and my final end of service. One week after my wedding and 5 days before my 30th birthday. For me, WW2 had meant 6 years and 29 days. RIP!

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