大象传媒

I think that we were recalled to 3 Neurosurgical Unit in Calcutta as the Typhus epidemic calmed down. Also, the original unit had been about to disband and go home, after 4 years. I don鈥檛 know what happened to the two wives, but I think that they were able to get back to their husbands. We were flown to Camilla with some patients who were transferred to the local General Hospital.
There was a storm while we were there and the roof of our Basha was peeled of and everything. We got very wet. The locals were called in to plait us a new roof and thatch it and tie it on.
While I was in Burma, I had very little contact with David and wondered what we would feel about each other. He had been flown back to England on a lecture tour for 2 months. In that time he was able to meet my mother. I have always wondered what they thought of each other.
Most of our patients had already gone and the unit was packing up to go home. A few remained and had to be transferred to Secunderabad in the Deccan. This was close to where the original posting was when we had first come out 鈥� back to white uniforms! Red tape in the form of counting all the sheets and knives, forks, spoons etc. recommenced. They still vanished, even when dirty sheets were locked in a special cage and counted back clean. I was suspicious that some were 鈥渂orrowed鈥� from other wards to make up the numbers.
David was now back with the 14th army HQ and got in contact with me through army signals (quite illegal). He moved to Rangoon, as our side were moving rapidly down that way and anticipated the end was approaching and people would be gathering for the signing of the treaty. I promptly asked to be posted to Rangoon and, to my surprise, was given it.
Then, to my horror, his permanent re-pat (repatriation orders) came through and we were going to cross in Calcutta. Signals were again useful. He said he would meet me at the station in Calcutta. Even then I was put on a passenger train, it stopped at every halt and took two days (mail trains were the fast ones). I sat fuming in the train and he on the station.
However, we did meet in the end. Then what to do? Being engaged was nothing to the powers that be, and he was going down to Ceylon to join a boat to England. We had to act quickly.
We went to the top medical man available. He was very sympathetic and said 鈥渨hat I always say is, 鈥榙o something irrevocable鈥欌��. So we did.
We organised for a service to take place in the New Cathedral. I rushed round to the place that was making my dress and it fitted, which was lucky, and mother had the family veil sent out to me. It arrived in time, thank goodness. On paper, the wedding was in the Old Cathedral, St John鈥檚, 12th September 1945. This was on the certificate, but in fact it was the New Cathedral, but old stationary.
Another great spot of luck was that when David went back to his room, he found his younger brother (Pat) had arrived from England. He was a very glamorous young officer and attached to a naval unit in Calcutta. He managed to book a large ground floor room for the reception.
In the 3 days before we had the wedding arranged, David, Pat & I took a look at the Calcutta shops. Pat & David were plagued by offers of girls that they might want to go to bed with 鈥斺�淣ice English girl Sahib?鈥� We were walking along a fairly crowded pavement one time, when one of the young local boys stood in front of us and tried to sell us a cushion cover with a picture of the Taj Mahal. The writing on it did not have the best of spacing. The slogan on the cushion was 鈥淭o my sweet heart鈥� But it was broken by the spires of the Taj so it read 鈥� To my swee ^^ tart鈥�. Pat did not get one and neither did David.
Being September, by now the weather was pleasantly warm. We both had a few friends who just happened to be in Calcutta and invited them along. One of the press photographers who had been in Camilla took a couple of really nice photographs for us and then we led a stream of taxis to the Naval Mess. Traffic speeds in Calcutta were limited to 30 mph as in England. But, nobody had told any of the drivers that they could go slower than that. It was really scary. Ghurkha drivers were always in a hurry and as they are not as tall as the men that the vehicles had originally been designed for, they had to look through the steering wheel. There were a lot of Ghurkha drivers about.
On arrival at the mess, we were surprised to find that all the food we had ordered was still in boxes, sitting on piles of plates. So it was all hands to work. Also, the weather was warm and we were very thirsty. I had a long fruit drink and soon realised that it had a lot of alcohol in it! I made a beeline for food as I realised that I was a little unsteady. The vicar had just arrived at that moment and remarked 鈥淚鈥檝e never seen a bride with such an appetite!鈥�. I found out later that David had made the fruit drink before going to church and put half a bottle of gin in it. Patrick had come in later. He was newly arrived in India and didn鈥檛 realise how the allocation of alcoholic drinks worked, thought none had been put with the fruit drink, and added another half bottle. It was rather an unfortunate thing to happen, but it made for a lively party.
We both contacted our units and were told we couldn鈥檛 expect any answer to our repatriation requests for at least two weeks. We found that the YMCA ran a hostel for married couples and moved in. Meanwhile, it was still a crowded city and we both longed to see something else.
We discovered that if we took a train to Silhet Station, we could book in at a hotel there. It was not far from Darjeeling and at the Southern End of the route from Tibet. We booked for one week and started the next day. The place we went to was Kalimpong.

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