大象传媒

We went home. I had a week鈥檚 leave, then qualified as a parachutist at Ringway in Cheshire which I believe is now Manchester Airport. Two of us went 鈥� Davies and Dawes 鈥� confusing. Hard, lots of doubling and leaping off platforms 鈥� 14鈥� high they said, and landing on mats doing the approved parachute roll 鈥� feet, calves, thighs and hip all in one move. The first jump was through a hole in the floor of a little cabin suspended from a barrage balloon. We sat round in a circle feet dangling and I don鈥檛 remember how many of us 鈥� 5, 6 or 7 鈥� not more because it was a small hole. The static lines were fixed 鈥� line from plane to chute which breaks seconds or so after the jump so that the chute opens. No free fall here! By the time you鈥檝e sorted yourself out, as I had to do on more than one occasion, untangle the parachute cords from around feet etc so that the chute canopy is in the right position and fully open.

The first jump was a shock to me. From a static position the body falls straight down like a stone. It鈥檚 obviously only a few seconds before the chute opens but stepping out of a plane is quite different. Second jump from a hole in the floor of a Whitely bomber was very similar to the first except for the sensation of the slipstream. Much easier like stepping off a bus, but, this time the slipstream means that there鈥檚 less sensation of the sudden drop. I found the first time from the Dakota that my feet were tangled in the parachute cords, and I had to reach up to get my legs down by which time I had arrived. Quite a decent roll I thought, slapped the button released the chute and gathered it together and walked off towards the WVS tea wagon. I had a fearful ticking off from the instructor who took my awful exit as a personal insult. All right for him he had done about 80 jumps!

More jumps daily 鈥� eight times. On television when a free fall parachutist arrives and lands in the prescribed spot it looks so easy. But sixty years ago the object of the exercise was to jump as low as possible for obvious reasons. Nowadays free fallers open their chutes, nice large rectangular chutes, which with experience can be used as sails, so that it is possible to land right on the spot 鈥� without rolling too. It looks so easy. Yet with our small round chutes it was, we found after a few jumps, possible to manoeuvre the chute to a small extent by pulling down one side. One chap apparently achieved the object of landing as near the WVS van as possible by hitting it before his feet touched the ground. Then followed the rest of the jumps from the Dakotas. A few times jumps were cancelled because of the wind. Previous jumpers had landed in trees or hit fences: a combination of a less than expert pilot, slow exits and wind and we were too valuable to risk. I remember the D. photos of many 101 American Airborne Division hanging in trees 鈥� sitting or rather dangling targets. We had jumps with a weight (a wireless set) or a 3鈥� mortar barrel (padded) strapped to a leg (quite difficult to walk!). Of course this made the descent quicker. At the appropriate distance from the ground, a pull cord detaches the weight which arrives a second or two before the body which noticeably slows the landing.

The last jump from the Dakota was into water, a lake. No worry about a decent parachute roll here. A second before the landing in water the chute was released and the parachutist lands feet first into the water, very comfortable but a nasty shock especially if one is not very confident in the water. So that was that. We had passed, had our para wings sowed on, celebrated our success, felt pleased with ourselves and I must say thought we had done something that many wouldn鈥檛 or couldn鈥檛 have done. We had been told that a number of other ranks had refused to jump when it came to it 鈥� they were all volunteers anyway. No officer had refused to jump so they said. True or not, in the armed forces an officer, or N.C.O. come to that, probably finds it easier to do things that simply have to be done 鈥� the disgrace 鈥� loss of face otherwise!

So I went back to Cowes, and the Wrens 鈥� no more about that except that it was suggested by a young lady that I was shy and 鈥済oodness, what have you got to be shy about?鈥� But quite soon, off to Lark Hill School of Artillery on Salisbury Plain 鈥� airborne artillery 鈥� new light guns but 105mm I think and soon after that to a nice little hotel outside Brockenhurst for would you believe it? Course on jungle warfare, the Japanese and all the nasty things they got up to: pits with bamboo spikes sticking up 鈥� very unpleasant: various booby traps such a trip wires that released a bent sapling that had a flat board with spikes attached 鈥� also very unpleasant. In various attacks one had to watch out for these little surprises. Of course the New Forest, in Spring, is not very much like the Burmese Jungle. I remember the fuss when one of the instructors 鈥� they were very good at throwing thunder flashes at us 鈥� hit a soldier 鈥� the thunder flash stuck in his gaiter and exploded and made an awful mess of the poor chap鈥檚 calf.

At this time the Japanese were attacking on the Burma/India frontier and I had a letter from home saying that my great friend Stan Garnham who had joined the T.A. with me in June 1939 had been reported missing, believed killed. We had lived next door but 2, been in the Infants, Juniors and Grammar School together.

Soon we were off to Dundonald Camp, Troon, Ayrshire again. Then to Edinburgh where we had medical exams and umpteen inoculations. The war in Europe was going well. Why on Earth didn鈥檛 the Germans surrender? Hitler Youth, teenagers, fighting very bravely deep in Germany against heavy odds 鈥� with no hope of achieving anything except killing the enemy before they were killed - but eventually those that could joined the many thousands of civilians on the trek West to avoid the Russians. The Russians reached Berlin and we were destined for India because the war wasn鈥檛 over in the Far East although the Americans were making steady progress towards Japan and we were advancing South in Burma.

But we were destined for India and then Malaya. We went by train and then by coach to Somerset. I鈥檓 not sure of the RAF station 鈥� Murryfield is at the back of my mind but it was probably one of those long-lost wartime fields. We were in shirt and shorts, I suppose there were about 16 of us on board, on hard seats, facing each other, the length of the fuselage. Heaviest in the front, lightest in the rear. I was the last one on the port side, conveniently just by the door. It was a lovely day with a clear blue sky and we flew at 5 or 7000 feet or so and the view was wonderful. I remember particularly the great scar of the Loire Valley, not much water in the river and the light coloured stones and then the green was very distinctive. Then the Mediterranean and first stop for refuelling and lunch at Elmas an Italian base at Cagliari in Southern Sardinia. The next staging post stop was at El Adem, Tripoli, in the desert. What a dump! Just a landing strip and some Nissen huts and white washed stones everywhere. Even a path at right angles to the Station Office marked out with white stones and actually the office could have been approached from any convenient direction but one was expected to go to the end of the stones and not spoil the appearance of the surrounding raked area. And we laughed because it was the Army, which was the service for bull shit but I must say there was a reason for white washing coal dumps. An elderly regular explained in 1939 that it made it difficult to pinch the coal. Next morning after breakfast we were off to Lyddia in Palestine 鈥� I don鈥檛 remember much about Lyddia which was near Tel Aviv, except that it had a large concrete tank swimming pool. However, our dodgy plane was grounded for two days and we were able to explore Tel Aviv 鈥� then a town with many smart new buildings; a nice sandy beach full of attractive young ladies.

I was frightened out of my life here while walking with Peter Cullen down a street when a young woman emerged and grabbed me by the arm and said 鈥淎rtillery captain, come with me鈥�. I pulled away and she kept hold of my right arm and was surprisingly strong and we finished up with Peter Cullen hanging on to my left arm. It was 2 to 1 and we won. It was the most determined accosting of this nature that happened to me, although Piccadilly in Manchester strangely enough was another embarrassing area I found when I was on my parachute course. Oh well, enough of that! It鈥檚 the uniform of course.

The plane was repaired or replaced 鈥� I don鈥檛 remember but it was a different pilot I think. Next stop Bahrein. I don鈥檛 remember if we stayed overnight but I suppose we did because the next and last stage was mostly along the South Coast of Arabia, miles and miles and miles of nothing but earth of various shades of brown. On the port side I had a good view. Those on the starboard side saw mostly sea.

We arrived at Mauripar, the RAF base at Karachi. Seated by the door I was the first one out of the plane. A tall RAF Flight Lieutenant with wings on his shirt advanced and said 鈥淲elcome to India, Doug鈥�.

I was amazed. We shook hands and it was Les Diaper who had been a year ahead of me at school. I said 鈥淲hat an amazing coincidence.鈥� It wasn鈥檛 actually because he had seen that a Dakota with army officers was due in and there was a list of passengers and he had spotted my name 鈥� well there could have been another D Dawes but not another D.W.B. Dawes. We had lunch and I looked around the airfield and settled in to my sleeping quarters 鈥� smartened up and Les said come and have a drink before dinner in the Officers鈥� Club in Karachi. He scrounged a jeep and so we did. We were walking from the guarded car park behind an American officer 鈥� very smart in tropical uniform. He was approached by a boy about 12 or 13 who had shoe cleaning equipment. The officer refused quite roughly 鈥� the boy persisted 鈥� and the officer went to clout him or that was the arm movement that he made and then continued on his way. The shoes shine boys had some sort of dark brown liquid which they carried as a substitute shoe polish. The boy walked behind the American, dipped his brush in the liquid and, wow, the back of the American鈥檚 uniform had lots of brown blobs and streaks on it. The Yank, oblivious, went on his way. We politely refused the boy鈥檚 offer and Les tossed him a couple of annas. I鈥檒l never forget that little cameo. It was a good job I wasn鈥檛 alone. I had no Indian money.

We had a beer in the club and were approached by a young 2nd lieutenant who said 鈥淵ou won鈥檛 remember me but I was about 4 years junior to you at school鈥�. But I did remember him, Taylor, the star turn, captain of cricket and rugby in his year. So lots of yarns at an Old Boys re-union. He was a Sapper or Royal Engineer, I should say, and was on his way to Persia as it was in those days. The next day up early, a train to catch to Amedabad, the area where the recent (2001) earthquake occurred. Change of train to Bombay where we arrived quite late.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.