大象传媒

This story is taken from a manuscript by Lawrence Travers Dorins, and has been added to the site with his permission by Bruce Logan. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.
====

Gravesend October 1939

Early in October, 1939, we moved to Gravesend. After a pleasant coach ride through the countryside with a stop at a delightful old country pub at the village of Shipbourne, we arrived at Milton Barracks near the centre of town. The barracks were old but they were the first real military buildings that we had occupied and we began to feel more like real soldiers. Also, our company, the 262, had the good fortune to be billeted in some new huts which had been built for the expected Militia intake in 1940. The barracks had just been vacated by a regular battalion of the Beds. and Herts. Regiment who were on their way to join the B.E.F. in France. Our hut had mostly members of the country section, men who lived on the outskirts of Hastings or in the villages near it. Later we had some of those who had just been called up from London and other places. We were lucky to have Bill Heriot in our hut. He was a countryman who came from Brede or Broad Oak near Rye and in civilian life he drove a steam roller and mended country roads. Bill was about forty, married with two children, and he was like a dad to all of us. It was Bill who rose early and fetched the bucket of "Gunfire", early morning tea, from the cookhouse, and it was Bill who told me when I was on duty and saved me from being put on a charge because he had read company orders and I had not bothered. He told us off when we needed it and always did more than his share. His was an influence for good and it was very sad that he was killed in France in May 1940.
During our first few weeks at Gravesend we spent a lot of time drilling on the barrack square and doing P .E. while the company was being reorganized. Some of the existing N.C.O.s were promoted and some new ones appointed. On the outskirts of the town was an airfield which was not in use and was controlled by the R.A.F. at Biggin Hill. It. was classified as a vulnerable point and our unit was given the job of guarding it at night. It was quite pleasant sleeping on the carpeted floor in the control building and the rations were generous, but patrolling around the hangars in the cold and dark was no fun. We did two hours on and two hours off through the night. Another activity was long route marches in the area, especially along the A2, Watling Street. Sometimes on the march we used to sing but it was not a great success. It was difficult to find a song to which we all knew the words and sometimes the front was singing one song while the rear half was singing another. As a prisoner I sometimes saw German troops on the march and a repertoire of marching songs seemed to be part of their training. The sergeant major in front would callout the song and then call out, one, two, three and they wouldburst into song as one man.
As well as marching we began to learn the jobs which army engineers do in the field. On the A2 there was a roadhouse named Laughing Water which had a small lake and some of the lads were sent there at night to practise launching pontoons. Later we went daily by coach to Upnor on the Medway where there was an R.E. training centre for bridge building with pontoons and collapsible boats. I thought the boats might be like coracles but they were very heavy and required several men to carry one. Our next training programme was at the School of Military Engineering at Chatham where we were shown how to place a box girder bridge across a ravine. Later we were taken round the mine which past students had tunnelled out of the chalk. This was the type of mine which was used in the first world war to penetrate beneath the enemy trenches and blow them up. We then learned how to construct well designed trenches and put up barbed wire fences. It was rather like getting ready for the last war. When we had reached a certain standard the King came to inspect our bridging skills, both at Upnor and Chatham.

The unit was gradually acquiring some transport so some of us were put on a driving course. We went out in Austin Eights, a variant of the well known Sevens with a slightly larger engine,a canvas hood and they were painted the usual khaki. There were three of us in each car plus an instructor, usually an NCO who had been employed as a driver in civilian life. It was very enjoyable, country roads, little traffic and driving a car, it was everyone's dream. I passed and became a driver instead of a sapper but nothing changed. We had so few vehicles that only experienced drivers were used. During my time in the army I passed the driving test three times but was never employed as a driver.

At home mother had some new neighbours who were very friendly. When they heard that I was stationed at Gravesend they suggested that I should visit their married daughter who ran a boarding house in Chatham. I went several times on a Sunday and they made me very welcome and looked after me very well. It made a pleasant change to be in a home again after barracks. Their lodgers were all young Irishmen, probably from Belfast, who were working for Shorts. All they seemed to do was play cards. I rather envied them as they would not have to go to war. This was the time of the "Phoney War". Life was not too bad but nobody believed it would stay that way. I also paid visits to some friends at Birling, near Snodland which entailed a bus journey of about twenty miles to Snodland and then a walk of about two miles to the farm. My visits were enjoyable but short as I had to get back to barracks and the last bus went quite early in the evening. I enjoying life but was rather self centred and immature. Mrs. Mepham had chided me because I had forgotten my mother's birthday. Someone, I can't remember who it was, had pointed out that the financial contribution I had made at home would be missed. Although I was not there the mortgage was still with us. The army was now feeding me and clothing me and paying me two shillings a day, ten pence in today's money. To help my mother I made an allotment of half my pay to her. This made her a dependant and meant that in the event of my death she would receive a pension. Sadly, it left me with the princely sum of five pence a day, the price of twenty Players cigarettes. Not much to have a final fling with before facing the enemy and possible death. I led a very modest socjal life and one of my main pleasures was visiting the St. James's Church Hall, where volunteers ran a club for the troops, and I could play table tennis which was my favourite game. One evening we went into the British Legion Club which was down by the River Thames. On the wall was a large notice which said, "Silence is requested during the playing of Tombola." I thought this must be some strange military ritual
which had been brought back from some remote outpost of the Empire and was very surprised to find that it referred to Bjngo. A growing lad, I was always hungry and spent what money I had on buns in the Naafi or scones at the club. I occasionally went out with a girl but poverty kept me out of entanglements. The army started to prepare me for war by taking me to the range where I fired about ten shots and proved that I was not yet ready for Bisley. This was supposed to prepare me to hold back the Nazi hordes. The fact that I was only on half pay, due to the allotment, was known in the Coy. Office and it was suggested that I might become a batman to earn extra cash.

I did not think much of the idea but reluctantly agreed. like so many young men in those days, I was not very domesticated. We were used to being waited on by the women, days long gone. I did not fancy my chances as a third rate Jeeves and it might bring me into close contact with officers and senior N.C. O. s. To be noticed usually meant becoming involved and it was my ambition to be the unknown soldier.

Sometime after the war I read The Good Soldier Schweik by Jaroslav Hasek and at that time I think that Schweik would have made a good role model for me, except that I lacked his cunning and experience. My first job was to report to the R.S.M. . He was a regular soldier who had been seconded to the T .A. for a number of years and was known to many as the smartest soldier in Sussex. On the parade ground his stentorian commands were likely to strike terror into the hearts of both junior officers and soldiers alike. It was therefore with considerable trepidation that I reported for duty. I had to clean his kit, tidy the room and, most important, wake him with tea in the morning. He was a man of few words and I received no complaints but after a few weeks I was told to report to a C.S.M., a regular who had just arrived. Perhaps the R.S.M. wanted to remain the smartest soldier in Sussex. My new boss was quite informal, not the pernickety regimental type, and quite generous. His quarters were in one of the old barrack blocks and I was expected to make sure that there was a good fire burning in the grate for his return. The only time I saw him was when I brought his tea in the morning. After the strain of working for the RSM this job was a doddle. Unfortunately, after several weeks he was posted elsewhere. I don't know what he
did. He took no part in 262 Coy. so I assumed that he was a specialist of some kind.

Not long after this I became batman to a Canadian Captain who had just joined the Coy. as second in command. He was popular with the troops and was very efficient and confident and perhaps rather more relaxed than the average British I officer. I found him quite pleasant to work for.

We were fortunate to be in the barracks. The Royal West Kents were in a local secondary school where they far less comfortable. When they built the Militia huts they had tried to save money in the latrines which led to some rather dangerous practical jokes. There was a row of six W.C.s and, instead of individual flushes, a gully with a continuous flow of water ran beneath all of them. The joker would enter the first cubicle, wait for others to be in use and then launch balls of flaming newspaper into the stream, departing swiftly to the sound of agonized yells. Not a trick to be used twice.

Through going to the club I began to get to know some of the local people and to find out more about the town and the area. Many worked in the paper and cement industries, based on the Thames and Medway, while some crossed the Thames to work in the Bata shoe factory. There were also strong connections with the sea. It was off Gravesend that the American Indian princess, Pocahontas, died while she was about to sail back to Virginia in 1617. Sometimes concerts were arranged for the troops in the local cinema, using mostly amateur talent. We enjoyed them very much. Television had not yet arrived to make us hyper critical.

Rumours began to circulate that we might be moving, re-inforced when we were given a weeks home leave. We suspected that it was embarkation leave and we were right Not long after our return we were told to pack our kit and we marched to the station and boarded a train for Portsmouth Docks. For at least three of my friends they were leaving the girls who were to become their wives.

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