大象传媒

This story was written by my father, Mr L.F.C. Knight (1912 鈥� 1991) as part of our Family History, which includes stories of life as family members knew it, photos, family trees and other relevant information. After serving at Reading, was my father was sent overseas and below is a description of the journey to Greenock and his wait on board the 鈥淗ighland Monarch鈥� until they set off.

The day came when I found my name on the list of those to be posted overseas. After embarkation leave, London became the assembly place conveniently for us near to Paddington Station. Many would slip through the red-caps (Military Policemen) to enjoy a last weekend at home. The kit was issued necessary for the climate at our unknown destination. Guesses were made from the shorts and denim type slacks with which we were supplied. One clue, which greatly intrigued our small group, was the inclusion of a tin opener exclusive to us. Not one of us guessed Malta where such gadgets were a 鈥榤ust鈥�. We only knew for sure when we were well on the way.
London to Greenock
We remained in London from the 27 Oct until 1 Nov 1944. London and its tense atmosphere from flying bombs and the rigours of the war-time city was left behind when we boarded the packed troop train for the twelve hour night time journey. Due to the cramped condition the occupants of our carriage (the tin opener squad) took it in turns to rest in the luggage rack, which surprisingly was reasonably comfortable.
There were quite a variety of troops on the train. Naval men and WRNS, marines, a mixture of members of varying Army Regiments, Maltese, a mixture of all sorts bound for all sorts of foreign destinations. In the early hours of the morning I remember looking out somewhere over the damp misty moors of the Southern Uplands and seeing in the mist a shepherd standing immobile against the background of heather. His was a different life to that of thousands of us.
At about midday we reached Greenock and straightaway were put on the tender awaiting to take us out to the transport ship anchored offshore. The tender to me appeared so large I almost wondered if we were to be taken to some other port, but it turned out to be only the short journey to the 鈥淗ighland Monarch鈥� an ex-refrigeration boat converted for troop carrying. It had been one of a fleet used on the S. American trade for meat imports. We were anchored for three days and one of the nights a storm blew up. Then there was the noise of the wind, the crew shouting, the rattling of chains. All this made us apprehensive of possible storms at sea with the rolling of the ship and the commotion taking place when we were only anchored in a reasonably sheltered place.
But we were to learn next morning that our boat had dragged its anchors and almost went aground off Dunoon. There might have been awkward consequences.
It was a sobering sight at Greenock to see long files of Navy lads who had been rounded up after their revels in port. All young lads handcuffed together singing, laughing, joking and larking about not at all dejected. Who could blame them for their respite from the strict discipline and rigours of life at sea. We had to keep in mind that it was due to them that the life of the country itself was assured. In spite of their onshore abandonment鈥檚 they were looked upon with pride. Many would not return and to make the most of these free occasions could be understood.
During our three days off Greenock, a more serious aspect was brought home to us by the issue of survival rations, a red battery operated light and an inflatable life belt. There were always to be carried or immediately available. It was quite a time before we found our way around the boat. Staircases and corridors everywhere. The Army personnel were allocated three tier bunks. The navy had hammocks. My place was at the bottom of a staircase which I at first thought good but turned out different as the nearby ventilation fan was always working making sleep difficult. The smell of diesel oil pervaded throughout. In my ramblings I found what I thought was a quiet place but was again thwarted on being told my quiet corner was outside the ships mortuary. We were closely quartered but comfortable. Food rations were good with bread baked on board. Luxuries from the ship's shop were available, cigarettes (100 for 1/6 - one shilling and sixpence) sweets, pipes, fountain pens and so on. Cleaning up was done each day with the captain and colonel's inspection. Rifles deposited in the armoury were cleaned by those on that duty roster. No letters could be despatched until our destination was reached.

More stories and pictures including Leonard Knight鈥檚 Diary Extracts of Malta can be found on our Family Memories website:
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