大象传媒

When I left school at fourteen I started my working life as an employee at Stewart Bros carpet factory at Westfield. I also lived in Westfield. Throughout my life I can remember specials days as a youngster, the time I got a birthday present of a cinematograph from my dad (I was ten years old) and from that day I was keen on photography. I often think of the communal washhouse in Westfield when my pals and I would put a white sheet above the boilers and put on a picture show. I can still see myself beside the machine turning the handle and watching moving pictures.

I remember talking to Nicol Golder (one of my pals) of the fun we had, the battles we lads fought against the Indians and arguing who was to be tom mix, Buck Jones, Hoot Gibson etc. We also played football in the Railway premises with neighbours watching us from upstairs bedroom windows and then the appearance of a Constable coming through the gates would have us scattering in all directions with the speed of a Powderhall sprinter.

We got so involved in our make believe battles and games that we would often shout up to our mothers 鈥渕a throw me doon a jeely piece鈥� which we always managed to catch. I can remember having a gala Day in Westfield. Willie Smith was the King and Nellie Golder was Queen.

We never thought back then that one day instead of going to Dalkeith pavilion to see films we would be able to watch them on television in our homes. To see man walking on the moon was something we read about in our comics, never thinking that one day it would be part of our world.

A few of us had some 1918 tin helmets and we used to play at soldiers. Little did we realise that the time was to come when most of us would be wearing the real soldiers uniform and would be in France and Germany and later Burma fighting a real war for our country in 1939-1945.

I was called up to the Militia when I was 21 years old. I can remember standing on Eskbank Station tearfully saying goodbye to my wife Jane, my mother in law Mrs Macdonald, my two sisters in law Betty and Chris and my 6-month-old daughter Isalbel. That was one of the saddest moments of my life, saying goodbye and like many thousands of others, wondering if we would see our families again.

I was sent to training camp at Harrogate, Yorkshire. We had the chance to go on various courses. I chose driving and passed my exams at Hexham British School of Motoring and received my Army driving licence and was sent to join my first artillery regiment, which was the 52nd Field Regiment from Manchester. Having been trained to drive various types of vehicles I was posted to France in February 1940.

When I arrived in France I was allocated a 3-ton Austin truck which was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was loaded with 25 pounder shells and I slept amongst the ammo boxes for the next three months. This truck was brand new and like many other vehicles had the names of our wives or sweethearts painted above the front windscreen.

After a few months in France the time came when thousands of us were being pushed back to Dunkirk. One night near the end of May I was stopped by the Military Police and told to drive on for about half a mile and get the truck off the road if possible and immobilize it so that it could not be used by the enemy. When I finally stopped I asked a soldier who was standing nearby if he would watch the tail end, as I wanted to reverse the truck of the road completely as there were so many vehicles being abandoned. After immobilizing my vehicle I had one last look at my wife鈥檚 name above the windscreen then walked away. I went to thank the soldier who had helped me and what a surprise to find it was my wife鈥檚 uncle Tom Baxter. Out of all the thousands of men in France it was amazing to meet Tom. Needless to say a few tears were shed and news exchanged about our families. Sadly we had to catch up with our units and the next time I saw Tom was at home in Scotland in 1946. I spent two days and nights on the beach at Dunkirk before managing to get a boat home on June 2nd 1940.

Back in England I was trained in jungle warfare and was sent to Burma in the summer of 1942. I was lucky to spend some time on the stage entertaining the troops and met Tom Delaney from Penicuilk who worked on the Railway. We met in Shilong on the borders of India. I met his sister after the war and she told me that Tom had died. I remember him as a cheery person with a smile for everyone.

When the war ended in Burma it was some months before I sailed home in January 1946.

When I finally arrived in Waverly Station, Edinburgh it was after midnight and I managed to get a lift to Eskbank. I remember walking from Eskbank to Westfield and knocking on the door of my house, hearing my wife say 鈥渨ho is it鈥� and when I said 鈥淏ert鈥� hearing the key turning in the lock, nothing on earth will ever compare with those few minutes of being with my wife after nearly six years. Although the war had ended in 1945 it was January 1946 before we were together again. It was one moment in my life I will never forget.

My daughter Isabel was 6陆 years old and the last time I had seen her she had only been 6 months old. Sadly my wife Jean died of cancer on 1969 and Isabel has looked after me since then.

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