大象传媒

CHAPTER 8

I remember everything very clearly as we steamed out of Bombay harbour which was full of craft and ships of every sort. Close up there was an Indian in a rowing boat holding a boathook. He was busy picking up the toupees which soldiers like ourselves were throwing into the water. Already his boat was piled high with them. We obliged by throwing ours in as well. We certainly would not need them again. It was yet another example of the terrible waste and extravagance in wartime. It did of course make Salig Ran a very rich and happy Indian.

We crossed the Arabian Sea for the fourth time and then we turned south and headed into the Indian Ocean, bound for Durban, approximately 4000 miles and a week's journey away.
After steaming into Durban Harbour and berthing, we were astonished to be greeted by a buxom lady wearing a white ankle-length dress and a large white hat. She was singing operatic arias as she walked up and down the quayside. She had a beautiful voice and as we found out later, was a well known opera star, and continued to meet every convoy throughout the war.
We only stayed in Durban for a few days and had very little opportunity to see any of it, but even the little we did see, convinced me that it did not compare with Cape Town, and in fact, was not very attractive at all. I remember my friend and I were sitting on the beach one night and gazing up into the sky we realized that we were looking at stars of the Southern hemisphere, and would most likely never see them again.

Another surprise was in store. We were told that we had to transfer to another steamer. This was to be the 42,000 tons French liner the Isle de France. We understood that it was to carry at least 7,000 troops back to the U.K. Once on board we were surprised to find that it was a mixture of all services and all ranks, including Brigadier-Generals, Rear Admirals, and even Air Vice-marshals. Colonels were everywhere - there must have been hundreds of then. As a sergeant, I was sometimes involved in picking other ranks for duties on board, such as potato peeling and guard duties. As you can imagine we were not very popular doing this job and we were met with many excuses.

As this was such a large ship and much faster than the 20,000 tonners we had previously been on, it had been decided that it should sail on its own, without escort. The theory was that it was too fast to be caught by U-boats, unless the U-boats were very lucky. We sailed that night, travelling south-west, and once again zig-zagging because of the fear of enemy submarines. We travelled about one thousand miles south and it was getting colder and colder. I was still sleeping on one of the lower side decks and getting a little worried because we appeared to be going in the wrong direction. One night an announcement came over the ship's tannoy system telling us to place everything moveable on to the floor because enemy submarines were in the vicinity. It was very cold, the weather was bad and the sea was rough and this news did not make us feel very happy. As morning came and nothing untoward happened, we realized we had changed direction and were veering towards west, north-west. Gradually the weather improved and it became warmer and in a day or so we saw an island looming out of the sea but still shrouded in mist in spite of the air conditioning, but the real problems were the bugs. They came out at night and we all spent hours itching and scratching. Like clockwork, they disappeared at around five or six o'clock in the morning. I caught a few but they were difficult to find. They were round and flat and about a quarter of an inch in diameter. When we complained we were told that on its previous voyage the Isle de France had carried Italian prisoners of war and was due to be fumigated, but this had not, so far, been possible. Meanwhile, troops like us had to suffer. During the day the voyage was very pleasant. We spent most days reading, talking, lazing about and running round the decks to keep fit. The trip would have cost a fortune if we had not been in the Services.

We continued westwards and one day we realized that we were approaching land. Like the sailors of old, we knew that to see birds not migrating, but just flying around, meant that land was close by. Nobody told us officially what land it was but the grapevine news soon told us that it was Rio de Janeiro, in Brazil. It was a very beautiful entrance to what looked like the mouth of a river but apparently there is no river there. We slowly passed by Sugar Loaf Mountain and could then see the peak called Corcovado (the hunchback) on the top of which is a giant statue of Jesus Christ with arms outstretched. From a distance it looks like a giant white cross. The ship then swung round and was anchored about two hundred yards off a wonderful sandy beach - the world famous Copacabana. Several small private aeroplanes buzzed around us. They were as curious about us as we were about them. We then saw that we were flying a yellow flag, which meant that nobody could go ashore. All we could do was to lean over tile rails and gaze at a millionaires' playground of a beach. There were lots of small craft of all kinds on the water around us and on the beach hundreds of holidaymaker presumably having a good time and completely oblivious of the fact that there was a war on. It all seemed very peaceful and far removed from the conflict we were engaged in.

After two days we left, steaming north and west far out into the Atlantic, still changing direction every little while. It was a problem to know what to do in the evenings when it was dark. The thought of going to bad early was not on because of the bedbugs, so groups of soldiers tended to gather in different parts of the ship. Usually this was on the higher decks in places curtained off with tarpaulins to keep out the weather and also the light because the ship was still completely blacked out at night. The weather was now getting gradually cooler and on occasions very windy. Anyway, we would settle down with a couple of bottles of beer each and, I regret to say now, a packet of cigarettes. There was nothing to sit on so we all sat on the floor in the dark, only lit by the occasional striking of a match. We usually found that two or three of the crowd were reasonably good singers and regaled us with old favourites. We were free to join in or not as we wished. With my voice I was sensible enough to listen and not join in. Our only exercise was jogging around the decks and we often did twenty or thirty circuits.

We sailed on day after day, constantly changing direction, but maintaining an overall northerly direction. Each day the weather deteriorated a little and with the strict blackout orders it was a crime to even strike a match at night when out in the open. To break the relative monotony we had an occasional lifeboat practice, where we all had special places to go to, close to our own designated lifeboat. We each had a lifebelt, this time of modern design and not the old fashioned cork blocks we were issued with on the journey out from England. At least these fitted properly, and if we had to jump into the water, we would not have knocked ourselves out.

Once again we approached land, at last we were home again. In my case it was just about three years ago that I had embarked at Liverpool. We did not know which port we were to arrive at until after the ship had berthed. It was Gourock on the Clyde. The first instruction we received after berthing was that we were to stay on board for a further twenty-four hours. This was almost certainly to allow the V.I.Ps and officers to land first. I well remember that last evening on board. It was a time when the U.K. were having double summer time. As it was the middle of June and days were at their longest, I was leaning on the rail looking over the harbour at 1.30 a.m and it was still daylight.

The next morning we were allowed to land and I caught a train for London. It passed through Edinburgh and very close to the Castle. We had a perfect view and very impressive it was. It was about a six or seven hour journey to London and the start of my fourteen days leave during which, with the aid of a special licence, Eileen and I were married. My leave was over in no time and then I had to report to Tunbridge Wells and start training with 30 Corps Wireless Section.

As I had just returned from service overseas, I had to have a Medical that amounted to a lady doctor asking me if I was fit. When I said 'yes', she promptly wrote in my pay book: 'fit for further service overseas' . I did not realize at the time but this was my passport for the 'D' day landings. If I had stayed with 30 Corps, I would have landed in France on 'D' day itself, but in the next two or three months I was to be transferred once more.

From Tunbridge Wells I found that I could travel hone every weekend. During this time, London was being bombed regularly by the Germans, and most of England was under a complete blackout. Every house had to have blacked out windows and even the traffic lights were hooded. There were barrage balloons flying all over London, hopefully to create a hazard for low flying enemy aircraft. There was a great deal of damage all over the place and many thousands of people were sleeping every night on underground station platforms. The remarkable thing was that despite all the problems, there was apparently very little crime and women could walk the streets safely in the dark.

After a few weeks in Tunbridge Wells I was transferred to Ashford with more training on radio transmitters. This camp was a good deal farther away from London and more expensive by train. I still managed to travel home each weekend and got into the habit of catching the milk train that left London Bridge at about 1.30 in the morning. There were never any ticket collectors at London Bridge, but unfortunately there was always one at Ashford. I managed to think quickly and to say that I had caught the train at Maidstone and I then handed him two shillings. It was almost always pitch dark, the collector carried a partially blacked out lantern and did not seem to care. In any case I expect he pocketed all the cash. I got away with this for many weeks but I did have to pay the full fare for the journey into London.

On the second weekend that I returned from London, I took the wrong turning in Ashford and walked for three or four miles before I was sure that it was the wrong way, and that there was no alternative but to retrace my steps. On that occasion I reached the camp just before they were sounding reveille. Suddenly, again without warning, I was transferred. This time it was to 2nd Army Signals Section, which operated one week at Oxford and the following week at High Wycombe. As before, I could still get home each weekend. Most times I managed to hitch hike to London. Sometimes it was in a posh limousine, and sometimes in the back of a lorry. I was usually dropped off outside Notting Hill Underground station. On the return journeys on Sunday nights I had to buy a train ticket from Marylebone Station, unless I was lucky enough to be given a return ticket from one of the dispatch riders. They apparently only used the inward part of their return tickets, returning from London on their motorbikes.

During this time London was being regularly bombed, mostly at night, and more than a million houses had Anderson shelters erected in their back gardens. They offered a good deal of protection, unless they suffered a direct hit.

Our training never stopped, sometimes on a rifle range, but also with bren guns, sten guns and also with Piat mortar bombs, which landed with a tremendous explosion capable of stopping a tank. All our vehicles were being waterproofed with pipes sticking up high from the exhausts and the ignition side of the engines sealed off. We practised driving these lorries down a slope into a deep tank of water. I was wearing waterproof trousers up to my armpits, and as soon as I went down into the water, the air in the trousers lifted me up, so that my feet could not reach the pedals. Of course, the lorry then stopped and I was stuck in the middle of the tank, up to my armpits in water. It was only with a great effort that I managed to restart the engine and reach the necessary pedals in order to drive out of the tank. All this sort of training was interspersed with several ten mile route marches with rifle and full back pack.

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