大象传媒

On arriving in Glasgow we were settled in billets which I can鈥檛 picture now after all these years, but I know they were in the dock area. I had always understood that Glasgow, especially the dock area where we were, was a terrible place. We found it so different. The people were so good to us. One time when walking down the road we were literally pulled into a church hall where everybody wanted to dance with us. During the interval good home cooked food was served, so in a very short time our views of the inhabitants of Glasgow had changed completely.
Our time was spent mainly marshalling the vehicles to the dockside ready to be loaded and when all was loaded, they sailed taking Jeff with them, sadly I was left behind. Really I was glad because I didn鈥檛 like the look of this rather old and rusty looking liberty ship and also because I was given two weeks embarkation leave.
The journey home by train seemed never to end. No lights of any kind during the night. Food was supplied at various stations and the WVS (The Women鈥檚 Voluntary Service) were always at hand to supply tea.
London was in the middle of the Blitz. It had been much more peaceful down in Devon no Blitz there. I really pitied all who had to stay in London and try to carry on as normal. On arriving in Napier Avenue, I had to stop and look in my Paybook, to see what number I lived at as this was the first time I had come to this address; My family had moved because of the damage caused by the bombing to where they had lived in Wandsworth Bridge Road.
The family seemed to be organised under Aunt Jean, who was head of a school in Hackney and the ideal person to take charge. They all slept in the cellar, which fortunately held them all. It appeared to be quite comfortable, with beds, carpets and curtains on the walls. It was a good cellar with three ways out, to the garden, the street and into the house. The ceilings had been lined with corrugated iron, then supported by iron supports, very substantial looking.
On this leave I met up with some old friends. I remember meeting Mr Brown, the Scoutmaster, Terry Kelly and one or two more whose names I wish I could remember.
I also remember my Grandfather sitting in his armchair. This was the last time I saw him. My Grandmother died earlier in the war while I was away. It was a bad time for all at home with the bombing, the rationing, the shortages of everything and the uncertainty of not knowing what would happen in the future or the next moment. Always in mind were those of the family who were away, even if only to do the shopping.
When my leave ended, I packed my kit and caught the train back to Chudleigh in Devon. It was the 01.25 am newspaper train packed tight with bodies trying to get back to their units on time. We travelled all night in the dark. Arriving in the early hours of the morning. The camp was rather quiet, nothing for us to do but to wait for all to return from leave. We were allowed out for a few hours, but were warned not to talk about what was happening even though the villagers knew more than we. Eventually everybody arrived back with a tale to tell. Poor Jack Davis had not gone home as his wife was expecting a baby and he thought the shock of his going overseas would be too much for her. Sad to say he was one of the first to be killed. It was at Medjez-el-Bab in the woods. Our Colonel was killed in the same attack, two very nice people. They are both buried at Oued Zarga, Algeria. Well the time came for us to pack. So with everything that we owned (or were loaned by the army) we put on our Packs and paraded. This was too much for some and they kept falling over. When you think about it, we were wearing our greatcoats with our webbing equipment tightly buckled over the top together with a full small pack on the right side and a water bottle on the left. Our big pack was on the back and on top of that was a rolled ground sheet last of all a rolled gas cape was tied so that in case of a gas attack you pulled a tape, the cape opened and you were covered. Last of all your tin hat fitted between straps on the back of the pack, we also carried our kit bags which were the largest item of all. No wonder some fell over when trying to pick up their rifles.
We were loaded onto lorries for the short journey to the railway station. For the journey all this kit came in very handy. We put it on the floor between the seats, and made a nice level deck to sleep on.
The journey by train to Glasgow I remember very little about, and was rather boring. This time going to Glasgow I saw scenery and not people with tea. At various stations the WVS supplied us with tea, they worked very hard, and were there at all hour.
We more or less went from the train onto the boat. This boat was of the Dutch KMP line, called 鈥淭he Boisvain鈥�, a cargo boat with a Javanese crew. It had been adapted for human cargo, though we were fitted in like cattle.
On the voyage the crew took great delight, during the Captain鈥檚 inspection, which happened every day, during which we had to be on deck, in hosing the place down, us included. It was almost enough to start another war.
I found the sea very impressive. Nothing but water all around with the nearest land about a mile down. A sailor鈥檚 life was not for me. I was told we were in a convoy, but I didn鈥檛 see another ship for the whole of the journey. Out into the Atlantic we went, on a rather uneventful voyage, which was fortunate for us, though we did practise boat drill in case of an emergency. The food served was very good; each mealtime two men from each table went to get the food pork chops and roast potatoes, I remember most of all. I did not miss a meal even if the sea was rough.
The accommodation was so crowded, we lived around a long table, ten on each side, sitting on wooden benches that were fixed to the floor. At night some slept on the tables and the rest slept in hammocks. I tried a hammock on the first night but found it impossible to sleep as my toes came level with my nose, and I found it a most uncomfortable position. I went on deck looking for bed space, and I thought at one time that I had found a cosy spot and went to get my bedding. It was very comfortable, but not for long, as I was turned out, and two dogs got it instead.
There must have been about a thousand of us up on deck at one time, but the ship being a cargo boat had equipment everywhere, so there was nowhere to sit even. After having been well out in the Atlantic we swung East and then passed through the Straits of Gibraltar, but as it was dark we could see nothing of it. On the other coast we could see the lights of Tangiers which of course was neutral territory. We were heading for Algiers, North Africa.
Arriving at Algiers in the early hours of the morning, we disembarked, formed up and marched out of Algiers to spend the rest of the night in lorries parked on the beach. They were well away from the built up area as they were full of ammunition and were dangerous to be near.
The following day we marched back into town to the docks. A smallish ship had moored and was awaiting us. I was told it was normally used to carry animals and cargo between the Scottish Islands. Our accommodation on it was bad. We were bedded down on the iron bottom of the boat in sort of wire cages, more suitable for chickens and not very pleasant. The only way out was up endless ramps, till you reached an iron ladder that was almost impassable with our kit on. If anything had happened we had no chance of getting out. Fortunately it was a short journey along the Mediterranean Sea which was calm and we arrived safely at a small port in Algeria called Bone.
Just before arriving, it had been bombed, but it was very quiet when we arrived. While we were going ashore, the weather was fine and warm, as we expected in Africa, though it soon changed to very heavy rain, not at all what we expected. The only excitement came when our ten-ton truck with all our signal equipment, wirelesses etc., was dropped on the quay from a great height. Everything including the truck had to be replaced.
We lived under canvas in a Transit camp while waiting which was not a very pleasant place to be, as the rain was quite heavy and, we soon churned the ground into a sandy mess.
To keep us amused we were given the task of digging drainage on a runway for the Airforce. Sorry to say I don鈥檛 think we made a very good job of it in the pouring rain, but we did our best. Later we tried our hand at building a railway track. This involved spreading piles of stones along the track ready for the sleepers, very hard work. During this work a snake appeared very slowly, Our officer (whose name I would not say even if I remembered it) drew his revolver and wasted six shots. The snake had disappeared before he had time to reload. I did not try because I had only been issued with twelve rounds and knew that if I had used them they would not have been replaced very quickly, war or no war.
The Nuns in Bone would despatch home for us oranges, for a small charge. It was not often that we were able to send packages home.
Still the rain came down, and we were very glad when our equipment arrived and the Regiment received its guns, then we were able to move on, leaving Bone.
With a series of night marches we crossed Algeria into Tunisia. The weather was as it was on Dartmoor, only wetter and colder. We were told it was freak weather conditions for the time of the year. After many miles we arrived at Medjez-el-Bab, and prepared to go into action, for the first time. This was the place that my cousin, Sydney Wright was taken prisoner in an earlier campaign, and spent many years in a German P.O.W. Camp, until the end of the war.
Before moving into this position, which was in a wood, we went in to prepare it. For three nights we dug in. I prepared my signal office, as I had done many times before on Dartmoor. It was a hole twice the size of my folding table, which meant that the table went in first, leaving room for two seats with the entrance behind us. The telephone exchange took up most of the table, and what was left was for my diary and message pads, I was also issued with a watch that had to be synchronised with the 大象传媒 pips, as all messages had to be timed, in and out.
The roof of my dugout I covered with sleepers from a nearby railway track and on top of this went small branches and earth, making it cosy and safe so I thought. On the third night we moved up and took possession. It was a dark night and the move went off smoothly, a pleasant dark night neither cold nor wet.
Our linesmen under Cpl. Pogson were out laying telephone lines to our batteries. I waited at the exchange so that when all lines were through I could inform the Regimental Office who would close the wireless network down, so the operators could get some rest as they had to be on duty full time.
Late the following evening when all was calm and quiet and we were well settled in, we were attacked. A plane came over and dropped a canister of anti personnel bombs. These bombs landed covering our regimental area. Each of the bombs has a propeller on the tail, and when it came off it exploded on contact. Sometimes it landed with the propeller still on, and the slightest touch would set it off, so they had to be left alone.
In my dug out, which well served its purpose that night, I did not hear the plane. I of course heard and felt the explosions. All lines on my exchange were cut so the linesmen were called out to put things right, bombs or no bombs. Col. Phillips our C.O. who had insisted on sleeping above ground, was hit and before he died said his big regret was being in bed when it happened. Also we lost a good friend, Jack Davis, a driver who had been with us a long time. A bomb rolled into his dugout and he had no way of escape. On embarkation leave he had not gone home to his wife, because she was expecting a baby and evidently was in a very delicate state of mind and body. He knew it would have been disastrous for her and the baby knowing he was going over seas, and thought it best to wait until when she was stronger. Both he and the Col. are buried in a military cemetery at Ouid Zaga North Africa. They were the only ones near me that were hurt that night. Despatch Rider Pusey lost his motor cycle, which was literally torn to pieces, far beyond repair. In the middle of all this my good friend, Ferdie, came along complaining that his aerial had been cut through putting his set out of action. The aerial was only inches above his head. It seemed to me that the piece that cut his aerial was the only one that he knew about, and there must have been many others just as close if not closer that he did not know of. I understand other units near by also suffered but I do not know how badly.
Now I became busy as all my telephone lines were cut. Cpl., Pogson and his linesmen were busy once again repairing and ringing through to me. Evidently lines from all units near by had to follow the same route. Perhaps there were mine fields around, but I do not remember. I was told it was like a linesmen convention with all of them trying to find ends of cable to match up. It was a long and nasty job in the dark and mud with maybe a bomb or two around and this went on for the rest of the night.
A rum ration was issued but I wished it had not been handed out as not being used to strong drink my memory has no recollection of the rest of that night. I know we now moved, the next day out onto the Goubellat plain, leaving the engineers tidying up the remainder of the bombs.
All was quite on the journey and we settled into a corner of the Ousselltia plain, into gullies, or depressions in the ground, hoping with the bushes, and brush around we would not to be seen. Behind us were mountains over which it would have taken twenty-four hours to manhandle one gun had it been necessary. This could have been a very tight corner had we been caught in it.
The rain was still coming down and we tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible. We kept the Signal Office in the truck, which was more comfortable than the muddy ground.
One afternoon we received a message for an American Combat team, which somebody reading a map had decided we were the nearest unit to them. Well as I was going off duty I decided to deliver it myself, I wandered off wanting the exercise, in the direction I thought they must be. After about a mile or so the bushes began to thin out and in the distance I could see a copse of trees standing out like a sore thumb. Making my way over, I found them busy digging in. I did not think it was a very clever hiding place as it was so obvious. The message was addressed to a major so I went up to a large man with no shirt on who was as busy as every one else and asked him where the Major was. He was the Major and was not in the least surprised at a stranger walking into his camp unchallenged. We were taught to challenge strangers. I could have been Hitler. I think they were lucky nothing serious happened in the area.
The rain had held off so I was able to enjoy my little jaunt.
We stayed in this position for about a week, and with nothing happening, only our getting wet. Rommel we were told, had gone another way to try and go though the Kasserine Pass, so we broke camp quickly moved there.

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