大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Karolyn Milam of Uckfield Community Learning Centre, a volunteer from 大象传媒 Southern Counties Radio on behalf of Robert Field and has been added to the site with his permission. Robert Field fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

I was called up in January 1940, reporting point The Buffs Barracks at Canterbury. The war 鈥渙fficially鈥� started on Sunday morning at 11am when Nevill Chamberlain made his historic broadcast to the nation鈥� This country and Germany are at war with each other鈥�.

Within a few moments an air raid warden cycled up and down the street blowing a whistle. Later the wailing of an air raid siren could be heard. These were the first reactions of men who had received spare time training for such an event and were a gut reaction as few thought that war would really happen. In face, for the next few months nothing did, but preparations went ahead albeit half heartedly. It was known as the 鈥減honey war鈥�.

Ration books and Identity cards were issued to everyone, and there was little official correspondence where one鈥檚 identity number was not required.

I wasn鈥檛 until well into 1940 that Germany began its vicious bombing of Great Britain. Night after night hundreds of bombers came over- one could almost wet the time by them 鈥� and many towns and cities were devastated. This was the renowned 鈥淏attle of Britain鈥� during which the RAF triumphed magnificently. Somewhere near Oxford I saw long stretches of wrecked German Bombers ready for salvage.

My own Unit, the Pay Corps, moved from Canterbury to Manchester lock, stock and barrel. What a task that was! Upon arrival we were met by a dozen or so buses, each with a letter displayed, and we were all given a card with a letter and number printed on it. My bus moved off, and as we reached the allocated billet our number was called out- two her, three there, - and when it was my turn, most of the bus got off. We were escorted to t a large, run-down house, with brown paper covering broken windows. The lady of the house welcomed us with 鈥渉ere are my boys!鈥� and we went in to the welcome of a stale cabbage smell. There were eight of us in our party and we were led out the back of the house to our 鈥� sleeping quarters鈥� where we could freshen ourselves up. To get to it we had to climb over a broken brick wall to the next house!

Our bedroom 鈥� for all eight of us 鈥� was completely taken up by beds, which we later discovered to be wooden boxes on which mattress and bedding had been place. On our return to the first house we were ushered to a large kitchen. Seated at the oversized kitchen table we were surprised and grateful to see plates of the most appetizing food being taken from an alcove 鈥� food we hadn鈥檛 seen since the war started. Alas, it was not for us 鈥� it was all taken to another part of the house. Our food, such as it was, consisted of small morsels of tinned meat, greens and potatoes served on a saucer!

The time came for us to retire. Back in the bedroom we pondered the situation- what sort of place was this? We were just settling down when there were shouts from the road outside, followed by the sound of a gun being fired. We hurriedly barricaded the door in case someone came in with a knife! Then came the awakening 鈥� the air raid sirens went. It was Manchester鈥檚 first taste of this 鈥� we were already hardened to it 鈥� but for the rest of the house it was sheer panic. Doors opened, people came out of rooms in various state of undress, banging on the doors and shouting 鈥淎ir Raid, Air Raid!鈥�

Who were all these people?

The next day when we reported for duty at a large requisitioned warehouse in the centre of Manchester, we all began comparing notes, and it was revealed that our billet was bang in the middle of the 鈥渞ed Light鈥� district of Manchester! Our landlady had been prosecuted sometime previously for running a brother. All was explained!

As a result of all this, these make-shift arrangements were cancelled and we were given nice comfortable billets with private families. What luxury! Two of us went to a house in Platt Land, opposite some extensive police grounds. All of us got on remarkably well. The elderly couple who housed us were kind and considerate.

One night we, (Peter and I) were playing darts in the back yard when the planes came over as usual. There was a sound like a ton of rocks coming down a chute and incendiary bombs started falling. A lot had landed in the field opposite and were burning brightly. We grabbed our 鈥渢in hats鈥� and went over to see what we could do.

There was a large roller handy so we thought using this over the fires would 鈥渞oll them out鈥� so to speak. However, what we did not know was that these were explosive incendiaries, and when we pulled the roller over, the fires became even worse. We enlisted the aid of one or two others and as we pulled the rollers over the fires they put clods of earth down. Our uniforms and faces were pock-marked with tiny burns at the end of the exercise, but we had kept down the brightness of the fires which were to have been markers for following planes.

One night we were in bed when a stick of five bombs came whistling down 鈥� and they did not explode-鈥漝elayed action bombs鈥� we decided. We could have run down to the air raid shelter, but thought we鈥檇 wait until the first one went off to see how near it was. It soon did, blowing the window in but otherwise causing no damage, so we waited for the 2nd then the 3rd 鈥� all went off with a tremendous explosion 鈥� except the 5th , we waited, and waited and waited and we came to the conclusion that either 4 and 5 went off simultaneously, of the 5th was a dud.

That morning we woke up to find a hole in the wall 鈥� looking out we saw a white parachute caught in a projecting pipe, with a large canister swinging on the end. An aerial mine which hadn鈥檛 detonated! Had it done so we would have been blown to smithereens!

Then came a huge raid on the city centre, most of which was destroyed. The fire watch on the Army warehouse roof were vigilant enough and after their raid went down to their post. Soon flames were seen coming from the Queens Hotel next door, and it was not long before it and a large part of the warehouse went up in smoke 鈥� a smouldering incendiary bomb had caused almost as much damage as the main raid.

We arrived at the usual time the next morning to find a very sorry sight. Having picked our way through streets strewn with shattered glass, piles of bricks and rubble, it was with great difficulty that we entered the building and started work salvaging as many records and documents as we could. There were no services 鈥� water, electricity etc. Toilets soon became unusable except in dire need, and arrangements went ahead for new venues. For a long time afterwards, when queries arose and certain papers were require, we had to open new ones with a rubber stamp 鈥渙riginal destroyed by enemy action 鈥�.

Over the next year we moved our operations to Southport, then to Bradford and it was from Bradford that I was posted overseas. The assembly point was large hotel in, I think, Marylebone Road, London. Four of us Sergeants befriended each other and we stuck together in various situations throughout the war.

The Hotel was bombed 鈥� of course 鈥� and the blast brought down one huge wall, exposing the various rooms like a dolls house. It was a revelation to see some of the occupants on various floors still sitting on the toilet! You can be sure they did not waste any time in moving to more stable parts!

Over a period of time we finished up in Glasgow. One evening the four of us walked down the main road. On the way we managed to obtain several items in short supply 鈥� cigarettes and matches 鈥� which we put inside our battledress blouses. One of our number was a Scot, and he was instrumental in gaining admission for us to the Black Watch Sergeants Mess. We were plied with plenty of drinks but tried to back pedal as we had to get back to barracks by 23.59 hours. I thought my beer tasted a bit musty, but was told that it was good Scottish beer. I afterwards learned that it had been laced with rum.

Time to leave came, I can鈥檛 remember the walk back , but I certainly knew I had more than enough to drink. We crept (as we thought) to our quarters, through a room of sleeping other ranks, to the N.C.O鈥檚 room. We tried to keep our voices down, but not very successfully. I undid my battledress and out fell several tightly packed boxes of Swan matches which promptly burst into flame on hitting the ground. That set off fits of giggling which woke up a lot of sleeping soldiers. The Sergeant Major came in and gave us a thorough dressing down 鈥� but we did not think he was in any better condition than we!

Our port of embarkation was Gourock 鈥� we traveled through the night with all our tropical equipment and boarded the ship the following day (Thursday).

It seemed to us quite an adventure. Rumour had it that we would sail that day as ships did not leave port on a Friday. Sure enough, that evening we all assembled at boat stations to hear the Chaplain鈥檚 address. As he spoke, with prayers for our loved ones at home, it was forced home to us that this was not a light-hearted adventure but a deadly serious undertaking. We all became almost somber and, yes, afraid.

The next few days we ploughed our way through choppy waters. We concluded that we were off to India and the journey had its interesting moments. One worthy of mention was when tasks were allocated 鈥� I thought I had chosen a cushy number by plumping for a job in the Orderly Room 鈥� no cleaning rotas for me! What a hope. The very ext day we had to organize a Court Martial! A lot of personnel elected to sleep on deck, away from the heat and sweat of the bunks below. For their pains they awoke next morning wet through from dew and spray. During this time two soldiers went around stealing from the clothes hung up on deck.

The one light hearted moment was when, giving evidence, one of the accused stumbled over a tongue twister, 鈥淚 searched the shirts and he searched the shorts鈥�.

There were one or two hairy moments when a submarine was detected and depth charges fired; also when the ships guns were fired in practice. The journey through the Suez Canal and the Red Sea was sweltering 鈥� perspiration was running from us all the time. Raw onion and salty water to drink took care of that.

At Bombay we faced a five day train journey through the jungle with its exotic birds, parrots and monkeys. Eventually we arrived at Meerut Cantonment. Several vendors were licensed by the government. One Indian 鈥渂oy鈥� on a bicycle offered to deliver magazines etc. greeting us with 鈥淪alaam Sahib鈥�. We were a bit nonplussed, and he added in perfect English, 鈥淚t鈥檚 an Indian expression meaning Good morning Sir鈥�!

There were all sorts of mini escapades which happened. One 鈥� at Tiffin 鈥� was outside the jungle canteen. Instead of staying with 鈥渙ld hands鈥� on the balcony we ventured into a clearing in the jungle itself with our mugs of tea and buns. Suddenly, as if from nowhere , a huge Kite hawk swooped down, clawed my bun away and left a long scratch on my bare arm. All I got from the others was laughter and cheers 鈥� they had already learned their lesson!

We were in India for about 9 months, clearing up the awful mess the Indian clerks had made of soldiers鈥� pay accounts. If a debit came through for, say, George Smith, they would enter it on the first Smith that they turned up. Likewise with credits. The consequence was that many soldiers found that they were thousands of Rupees in debit and others were almost millionaires. It was, of course an impossible task, but we plodded on just using our common sense. I think most were fairly satisfied. Eventually the accounts were flown home to the U.K.

That left a lot of us spare, and some of the longer serving men went home with the accounts. We four managed to stay together and were posted to Ceylon, as it was then. This was thanks to an understanding Sgt Major.

Life was a lot more civilized in Ceylon. We managed to visit a lot of interesting places both there and in India. One event in Ceylon is worth mentioning. I was detailed to go into the heart of the country to get a signature from one who, technically, was a deserter, but whose departure could be legalized by this document. A truck was laid on together with two M.P.鈥檚 On the way were overtaking a bullock cart when we knocked down a native who was walking along the road. We got him into the truck and took him to the hospital where he received good medical attention and, as far as I know, was not fatally injured as we had at first thought.

The MPs bemoaned the fact that we had hired this truck instead of using one of their Jeeps, because the driver said that he could not drive us back that night as he had no lights? So we reached the village at dusk, got the papers signed and went to the village Headman to stay the night. We crossed a rickety old rope bridge into the jungle and came across a large wooden building, with the familiar blue noticeboard 鈥淗. Banderanyke. Registrar of Births, Deaths and Marriages鈥� right in the middle of the jungle!

We were made very welcome and enjoyed a gorgeous meal of several curried items 鈥� I didn鈥檛 delve too deeply into what some of them were, but they tasted delicious!

I was given a 鈥淐harpoy鈥� to sleep on, which was surprisingly comfortable 鈥� a wood frame strung with woven vine 鈥� and awoke the next morning on the balcony with a strange feeling. Sitting up and looking around, it seemed as though the whole village had come to watch a white man sleeping? Their faces were expression less at first, but as soon as they saw that I was awake they beamed 鈥� they were genuinely happy to have this stranger in their midst.

Eventually we said our goodbyes and left in the truck 鈥� but there was trouble ahead. We came to the site of the accident to find that the local police had been measuring skid marks and taking notes from the injured man鈥檚 鈥渦ncles and aunts鈥� they weren鈥檛 really related, but the villagers always used these terms about each other. Then we had to go to the Police Station to make a statement. All in all, the police organization if this little village was very efficient.

Meanwhile, back at our headquarters the unit were going frantic 鈥� What had happened to us 鈥� why hadn鈥檛 we returned the same day? We explained that the mobile phone had not yet been invented and they quite understood!

On V.E. Day we all felt rather depressed 鈥� our war was still going on. We had a free pint in the Sgts Mess, and the Chaplain took a little service of thanksgiving under a banyan tree. On V.J. Day however, we all went wild. We raided a Red Cross store and borrowed a number of musical instruments 鈥� accordion, bass, cello, banjos, drums 鈥� and paraded round the streets of Colombo. The Ceylonese smiled at these eccentric British soldiers. Nobody could play the instruments but created a lot of noise.

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