大象传媒

MY LIFE MY WAR

By
Bernard Hallas

Chapter 7b - I meet my future Wife (Cont.)

In the dark hours of the night we passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and entering the Atlantic Ocean, we came into heavy weather, all main hatches were closed, all loose fittings were secured by the damage control parties and duties were eased off for those not directly involved. Those involved were of course submarine lookouts and deep down, the sonar operators, watching and listening. It was only the first day into heavy weather and already the powers that be realised their first mistake.

East of Gibraltar we were wearing our tropical Khaki Drill uniform and lightweight clothing. We now needed heavy winter clothing, but all main storeroom hatches had been closed and only a direct order from the executive officer could rescind that order. Unfortunately the bad weather was holding it鈥檚 own and we would have to stick it out until it had blown itself out.

The clever bodies amongst us were talking about how passing through the 鈥淕ulf Stream鈥� would make the world of difference. Fortunately, after the next morning鈥檚 鈥淒awn Action Stations,鈥� the order came to open all storeroom hatches for one hour and the result was a mad scramble to change into winter woollies. The watch on duty was relieved for a short time to do likewise; it had been no joke on the wings of the bridge trying to keep warm. Eventually we did pass through 鈥淭he Gulf Stream鈥� and the sea did calm down but it was still many degrees colder.

We were now in Canadian waters and Canadian warships were sent out to escort us into the port of Halifax, and much to our delight, shore leave was given to the port watch (me). In my best bib and tucker, I ventured ashore to sample the delights of Nova Scotia. It was snowing as I had never seen it snow in the whole of my past life and it must have numbed my wits. Meeting a friendly Canadian, who claimed that he was a sailor staying in a boarding house in the town, said that he would show me around the naval base. Unfortunately his uniform was back in the boarding house and he had to give his landlady five dollars to retrieve it.

Guess what? Well, I was young and I suppose you would say, a little gullible. We went to his digs and while I waited outside, he went straight through and left by the back door, with my five dollars. After kicking myself for being so stupid, I strolled around the shopping centre for a short time and then decided to go for a beer. At that time, to buy liquor it was necessary to have a permit (this permit was not available to Indians), or so I was led to believe, there are however ways and means and another newly made acquaintance showed me the ropes.

I was luckier than I had ever hoped. Entering the establishment, who should be sat at a far table but the new owner of my five dollars? There was no problem, at twenty years of age, six feet tall and weighing in at a very fit eleven stone I had already decided that my money was coming home. Walking up behind him, I gripped him firmly by the back of his neck and in a very quiet voice said, 鈥淒o I get my five dollars back, or do we go to the policeman at the door?鈥� He decided that discretion was better than valour and without turning round produced a five dollar bill. There were quite a few onlookers, but having retrieved my money I considered myself very lucky and nodding to the 鈥淐anadian Mounty鈥� on the door I left and carried on my way round the shops.

There were many interested looks from various people and quite a few stopped for a few words, saying 鈥淗ow nice it is to see you British boys over here.鈥� It was still snowing so I made my way back to the ship, not richer, but a lot wiser. They do say that travel is educational, two days later, all of the watches having been allowed ashore, we prepared for sea. In those two days a huge convoy had assembled and it was to be our duty to escort it to England.

It was a delightful surprise and no doubt the convoy was more than a little happy to have a Battleship as its escort. It was a rough crossing, the 鈥淯-Boats鈥� were very active and unfortunately we suffered some losses of badly needed supplies, but more importantly we lost ships and men. We learned at a later date that on the first day of war, Hitler had already deployed his main submarine fleet at strategic points round the Atlantic Ocean and they certainly took their toll of our Merchant Navy.

In that first day of the war they sank more tonnage than we could possibly afford. Eventually we made it to Greenock, a small port on the Clyde and dropped anchor in the main harbour. The convoy had dispersed in small units to various ports in England. Portsmouth, Plymouth, Cardiff, Liverpool and many others, no doubt glad to be home, as we all were. The first inboard delivery was the mail. I would soon be receiving letters from my first real girl friend and I was looking forward very much to the experience.

I was more than surprised; there were six, all numbered. I started, obviously at number one and by the time I had read them all I had to accept the fact that I was committed. Without knowing, I had made a conquest, this girl from my hometown, poured her heart out. She barely knew my background or me but she convinced me, and I believed her when she wrote, 鈥滻f the war goes on for ever, I shall still be here waiting for you鈥�.

I knew then as I had known the first time I looked into those beautiful eyes that, God willing, this was the one. Eagerly the ship鈥檚 company waited, who would get the first leave. It was a bitter disappointment, leave had been given to the Starboard watch, and I had to wait a whole week. Mobiles had not been invented, and telephones were not for the working class. The only quick communication was the telegram and I immediately sent one off, and it simply said, 鈥淐oming home, see you Friday, Love Bernard鈥�...

It was a long week, I had visions of a small boy with a pill box hat riding a red bicycle through the village like a madman and then waiting for a lovely young lady to tear it open, and scream, 鈥淗e鈥檚 home Mum, He鈥檚 Home, He鈥檚 arriving Friday.鈥� Those were the days.

That week seemed to pass slower than usual, possibly because freight was being given priority, but eventually I arrived in the village. Two ladies were waiting at the taxi rank and there was only one taxi, the long journey from Scotland to Lancashire had taken forever. Sensing my impatience they invited me to share with them but refused any payment.

Arriving at my destination, I thanked them and stepped out of the cab. I walked up the path hoping to meet a very happy young lady. I had no need to knock on the door, it was flung open and five feet three of crying loveliness enveloped me as if I had been away for an eternity.

As we kissed I knew once again that this was the girl and instinctively I also knew that the salty tears were tears of happiness on her part, and if I didn鈥檛 come back for years, she would still be waiting. Such was youth in those dark days of war. Ruth鈥檚 Mum, Ada, adopted me from the start. In her eyes I could do no wrong and I could tell that she was more than happy to put the future of her only daughter in the hands of a complete nobody.

That evening we just sat and held hands and looked at each other, I was in another world. I had, to the best of my knowledge never been loved. I had been fed and protected in a family environment, but to say that I had been loved was something that I could not admit to being the truth. It was a new experience, to know that here was someone who was willing to give all without expecting anything in return. It made me more determined than ever to return that love with interest. The week ahead was going to be very busy indeed. Ruth had made plans to visit all her relations in turn and she would hold my hand and say, 鈥淭his is Bernard, my boy friend he鈥檚 a Royal Marine鈥�. I had arrived; at last I belonged to someone.

We had made the best part of our rounds when, quite out of the blue, Ruth said that she would like to go and see her Father who had been attracted by a slightly younger women and deserted them. At first as we were introduced I was not impressed. How could he leave two such lovely people on an impulse and set up house with another woman. I was not at that time well versed in the ways of the world and only saw what was in front of me, he had deserted Ruth and her Mother and I was not prepared to enjoy his company.

I did however, to please Ruth, keep my feelings to myself, I would only be there for an hour or so and we would take our leave and return home to where Mum, as I had already started calling her, would have a nice meal waiting. As I looked at the tired elderly face I thought to myself, 鈥淪he deserves more than this鈥�. As time passed I began to appreciate that despite their circumstances they had accepted the situation and that in some small way I could join in with them and become a small part of the family.

The friends and relations had by now accepted me and we always had somewhere to go whenever we felt the need for a change. This was not very often, as we were more than satisfied with our own company. The week passed too quickly, I had, in between, made several visits home and I have to admit that they were always glad to see me.

I took my father to his local where he did his little piece of showing his youngest son off, and in no time at all it was time to pack up. We had not done all that Ruth had wanted to do, she had arranged visits to friends, but in her eagerness to please me she had committed herself to far more than would be possible in any one week.

But so long as we were together she was quite happy. I knew that at the back of her mind was the thought that this day would sooner or later arrive and here it was, the final day of our short time together and time to part and say goodbye. I have already tried to explain that Ruth was different from any of the girls I had previously encountered. We had our moments of passion, we kissed long and tenderly, but it was understood, without putting it into words that fondling and kissing was not to lead to anything further and although at times it was difficult, we both honoured our commitments.

The last week had been most enjoyable; the only drawback that I could complain about was the fact that I never took my civilian clothes out of the case; Ruth insisted that I wore my uniform on all visits. It was now zero hour and Ruth insisted that she should come to the bus station. I had already upset her by refusing to let her come to the railway station in Manchester. I was too concerned to think of her returning home in the blackout.

With no regard for the waiting travellers, we held tight in each other鈥檚 arms there was no need for words, we had said it all. 鈥淧lease be careful and come home safely, I love you.鈥� I suppose so many different people were saying it all over England, but at that moment it only concerned us.

The tears told it all, as I kissed her for the last time, I could taste the salt on her cheeks. Eventually, far too soon, the bus arrived and I literally had to tear myself free in order to climb on board. As we moved off I wiped the steam off the window and in the cleared circle I saw the lovely tear stained face trying ever so bravely to raise a smile.

After all there was a war on, we knew very well I was going back to sea, but I think that at that moment in time, we were both confident that at some time in the future, we would be back in each others arms, such is faith when you are young and in love. It was only an hour鈥檚 journey to Manchester and the railway station was a hive of activity.

There were uniforms from all services both British and foreign, and the wearers were all saying their fond farewells to their sweethearts and families and every one was doing their best to be cheerful and happy and failing completely, the tears just had to flow. It was apparent that most of the travellers were going North and it was standing room only, and in a few cases, you could say lying down room only. Bodies commandeered every available space and using kit bags for pillows, made themselves as comfortable as possible. It would be a long night.

In the early hours of the morning I stepped bleary eyed off the train on to the dirty platform in the small town of Greenock, a few miles from Glasgow, and striding out manfully made my way to the dockyard gate at Albert harbour.

It is always the case that once you are committed and back in routine things get easier and in no time at all, you are settled down, but it would be a long time before I would forget that tear stained face, if ever. A lot had happened on board and rumours were flying thick and fast. Gracie Fields was coming on board to dine with the Officers, of course! But the following evening, she was to give a concert to the Royal Navy in the local theatre. It was a great success and Gracie as always was fantastic.

PR-BR

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