大象传媒

MY WAR STORY.

My story is a little different from those I've witnessed on TV so far. For that reason, you may or may not be very interested in it. Anyway, for what it is worth; here goes.

My father was engaged in the Italian campaign and we - mother, 1 brother and 1 sister - lived outside Nairobi for most of the duration of the war. In the winter of 1944 my mother and we three children found ourselves on a troop ship - one of many in a long convoy - heading for UK via the Suez Canal. We were due to be joined by my father when the convoy reached Port Said.

Just before entering the Suez Canal, whilst still in the Gulf of Suez, a sand storm blew the leading ship broadside within the entrance to the Canal and wedged it fast to each bank. This resulted in the whole convoy being held up for three days. We were one of many, many families on board the ship, a converted hospital ship, which was carrying 3,500 troops on board at the same time. It was grossly overcrowded. Every spare space of flooring was occupied by families "camping" wherever they could. The daytime temperature would soar well into the 100sF inside the steel hulk. Portholes were not allowed to be opened, and doors had to be kept closed except for necessary passing through. For those three days, every civilian had to remain inside the ship.

Being a young boy, with the usual adventurous spirit of those of such an age, I had made a few friends - our "gang". Somehow, we would manage to creep out on deck each day and witness the continuous "Stand to" by the armed forces on board. Funnily enough a couple of us befriended a few White Fathers - missionaries - who for some reason or other were also on board and were allowed out on deck. I think their white flowing robes attracted us. They were very good and befriended us and comforted us - as one might expect. Creeping up to the gun turrets to see what went on within was one of our favourite adventures. For some reason we were never rounded up and sent below: perhaps the soldiers and sailors had far more important things on their minds. I well remember standing below one gun turret and looking out to sea on the occasion that we were torpedoed. We found it exciting watching the white trail of the torpedoes coming towards us - only two of them fortunately - little realising the danger they posed. I'm still here to tell this tale, so you can gather that neither torpedo struck home! One more 'fond' memory I have of those three days, was going up to each and every soldier and sailor who was smoking and asking them for the silver paper that cigarettes used to be wrapped in, in those days. Our 'Gang' had devised a competition to see who could make the largest silver paper ball so that we could claim to be the winner of the 'Save Silver Paper To Aid The War Effort Campaign'. Somehow we had the idea that every scrap of metal was required to manufacture armaments! Silver paper was of course made of metal!

Because of the hold up, my father never did join the convoy. (We didn't meet up until the end of the war). Our convoy was destined for Southampton but because of German 'U' boats, we were diverted to Glasgow, where we disembarked. Poor mother by now had three very sick children on her hands - many folk went down with measles towards the end of the trip - and was dumped on the dock side, knowing no one, having no money and nowhere to go. All I can remember is being carted off to hospital in an ambulance and a few weeks later joining her in a bed-sit in some back street of Glasgow in the cold, damp winter of 1944/45. We were not very happy but then that was what war was all about. I do realise now that we were much, much more fortunate than thousands upon thousands of others.

N.B. I have no photographs to accompany this tale. Perhaps the 大象传媒 can delve into their archives and illustrate this story suitably, if it I decided to use it for publication.

P.S. I was later called up for National Service and ended up signing of for another 4 years, serving in Northern Ireland, The Gold Coast/Ghana and the Belgian Congo - during the time of the mutiny.

Yours faithfully

Brian Temple-Brown
Tel.No. 0033 4 68 05 97 02 (I now live with my wife in France)
email: charian33@aol.com

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