大象传媒

This story was submitted to the Peoples War site by Jas from Global Information Centre Eastbourne and has been added to the website on behalf of Mr Dent with his permission and he fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions

Off the train, and on to a barge. It was, of course, raining steadily but with our helmets on and wedged extremely close together only our shoulders got wet.

We were stuck thus for about two very wet hours until we were towed out to a ship moored in mid-river. At last we were aboard the 鈥淐hristobel鈥�, an American boat whose normal function was luxury cruises between New York and Panama.

The only luxury left were the bronze tinged mirrors designed to make one look remarkably healthy no matter how green from sea sickness. The swimming pool had been converted into toilet and ablution facilities 鈥� trying to shave with salt water wasn鈥檛 much fun even though we had been supplied with salt water soap.

The former saloon remained as a general relaxation area and what was probably the upper saloon, because it had windows, converted to bunks.

A sort of scaffolding arrangement divided into bunks six feet long, two feet wide and two feet below the bunk above and we were five bunks high; all pretty claustrophobic.

The actual sleeping bit was a piece of canvas six feet by two. The ship had been designed for two hundred passengers and as there were twelve hundred plus of us the kitchen facilities could only cope with two meals a day.

We were each given a numbered card and when the tail of the permanent queue came within reach of one鈥檚 own one joined in. The actual eating area had long chest-high tables bolted to the floor and at the end of each table was a dustbin for the leftovers 鈥� what we would normally call swill.

Later, in times of inclement sailing conditions these bins would develop a wanderlust and would then become an interesting hazard.

A bin largely filled with cold tea, frankfurters, bread crusts and other unidentifiable remains was a thing to avoid.

At least we could hold on to the tables and not join the bins. We didn鈥檛 know it at the time, but this was to be our home for the next three months.

We stayed in the Clyde for a week while we got familiar with the conditions. Then one evening at sunset the engines throbbed and the Clyde coast slid past.

It was a wonderful memory as the hills of the Clyde coastline were silhouetted against a magnificent sunset.

Little did I know that nearly twenty years later it would become what Fiona referred to as 鈥渕y native heath-in-law.鈥�

I know nothing of logistics but it seemed the convoy gradually formed up and the sight of the protective presence of the battle ships 鈥楻odney鈥� and 鈥楴elson鈥� was a great comfort.

I understand that the aircraft carrier 鈥業llustrious鈥� and some destroyers were also involved. There were probably more navy ships as well 鈥� I just don鈥檛 know.

It was a very large convoy.

Once we were really underway, small jobs were invented to keep us occupied. I was assigned to take my little lot and report to the Master at Arms. 鈥淢y name鈥檚 Crosbie鈥� he said 鈥淣ow, here鈥檚 some paint and some brushes. I want youse guys to get over de side and paint dat goddam ladder鈥�.

We began to comply. 鈥淥K? Now I鈥檒l go see de stooward: getcha some corfy.鈥� Fortunately, the sea was pretty calm as we made a perfunctory start on this bizarre task.

After a while another player came on to the stage. 鈥淲hat youse guys doing painting dat goddam ladder?鈥� We explained we were acting on the instructions of Master at Arms Crosbie. 鈥淲hy, dat goddam ***- sucking bastard 鈥� it鈥檚 got F-all to do with him.

I鈥檓 de bosun and I decide about dat goddam ladder. You guys come back on deck at once.鈥� The bosun went away and we willingly came back to the safety of the deck where we sat enjoying the sea air and the smell of paint.

After a while Crosbie returned. 鈥淚鈥檓 sorry youse guys 鈥� de stooward wouldn鈥檛 give me no corfy 鈥� hey, why ain鈥檛 you painting dat goddam ladder?鈥� We explained about the bosun. 鈥淲hy, dat goddam, ***-sucking bastard, that鈥檚 got F-all to do with him 鈥� you get back over and paint de goddam thing.鈥�

I think we eventually did enough to consider it to have been painted and that was the end of a very silly episode. However, it was an interesting insight into the degree of co-operation and camaraderie among the middle management.

I have also wondered how British High Command would have felt had they known that some of their much needed reinforcements for the Desert Army were working twenty feet above the Atlantic with no safety harness.

It was just as well we weren鈥檛 still over the side when the weather changed. It really was awful.

The bows would rise up to what appeared to be vertical; no horizon, just this gothic shape entirely surrounded by sky.

Then after a pause, the whole ship would drop into the next trough with a hideous crash and a lot of water everywhere.

A wonder the ship didn鈥檛 break in half. In fact I did hear one of my fellows make this suggestion. this green figure green laying on the deck saying 鈥淲hy don鈥檛 the f-ing thing just sink and have done with it?鈥�
The next bright idea was the 鈥榣itter squad鈥�.

Each team spent eight hours a day looking for litter. Three teams covered the whole twenty four hours. There being no shop or other source of litter it wasn鈥檛 a very difficult job.

However, we were rewarded each evening by the ceremony of 鈥榚mptying the trash bin鈥�. The trash bin itself had obviously been designed by Noah but unlike the much larger Old Testament version, was fitted with shafts at each end thus making it possible for about eight men to pick it up and empty the contents over the side.

Most of the trash consisted of cardboard boxes and other packaging which made an interesting sight as it drifted away and was picked out by the rays of the setting sun.

Incidentally, I recall that part of litter collecting duties included remaining on deck should the ship be torpedoed and take responsibility for throwing the life-rafts over the side.

We considered this to be a good option as we could make sure we went over with the last life-raft thus ensuring a place on it.

We also felt this preferable to being floating survivors and showered with life-rafts from above.

About now I was added to a sort of entertainments committee. This was superintended by another superior being 鈥� the purser 鈥淢y name is Anderson; call me Hans.鈥� What else? He worked hard and acted as M C for nearly every thing that went on.

The broadcasting system relayed everything to every nook and cranny in the ship. There was no escape. You were entertained 鈥� or else.

It was customary to conclude every evening鈥檚 entertainment by singing (for want of a better word) 鈥渢he star spangled banner鈥� a dreadful thing to do as some of the notes have to be dug out of the lowest areas of the voice box while others are nearly out of sight and into orbit and I well remember a crew member commenting on the pursers rendition 鈥淲hy does the GDCSB have to stand so close to the goddam mike?鈥�.

It was on this committee that I met Sid Sagar; bandmaster of the Royal Sussex regiment. He was a lovely chap to have around and his band supplied a high proportion of our entertainment.

I later met Sid in Cairo late in 1943 when I went to an orchestral concert at the Concert Hall of the King Fund 1st University. The auditorium was horseshoe shaped and the conductor had seen fit to spread the brass section round the front of the balcony. This gave a strange effect as one sometimes got a blast of sound from an unexpected direction. I met Sid afterwards, carrying his trombone. 鈥淭hank God that鈥檚 over鈥� he said.

I enquired why he said 鈥淒idn鈥檛 you notice? Just before we started my music fell off the balcony on to the audience below. I knew what to play but with a trombone it鈥檚 important not to come in at the wrong time.鈥�

I gathered that with a mixture of sign language and semaphore he managed to convey the problem to the conductor who, from then on, gave him a personalised jab of the baton at all the right moments.

Back to 1942. Another source of musical entertainment was a small room with equipment that piped noise all over the ship. My experience of this sort of thing had been limited to 78s and a wind up portable gramophone.

This was a whole new world; 33s and 45s had never been heard of鈥� still less a strange one where the needle (probably 鈥榮tylus鈥� only I鈥檇 never heard of the word) started in the centre of the record and worked its way outwards.

One really had to read the label. The records themselves were a pretty mixed bunch including one that offered 鈥淲ho slapped Annie on the fanny? (With a flounder)鈥� on one side and 鈥淪he has the biggest kanakas in Hawaii鈥� on the other.

And so life plodded on. Until 鈥楲and Ahoy鈥�. Next stop Freetown. I can鈥檛 say I have actually seen Freetown as all ships had to stay two miles off shore as it seems that that is slightly further than the mosquitoes could fly.

Freetown is only a few degrees north of the Equator and consequently very hot. Also without the movement of the ship the atmosphere was very oppressive. We were there for about a week with no real memories except one of boredom and stifling heat.

The open sea was much more entertaining especially when a bunch of flying fish flitted past 鈥� they really do exist.

The next stop 鈥� only we didn鈥檛 stop 鈥� was the Equator. This was a fairly well tried and tested ceremony organised by Hans Anderson and his staff. A token selection of medium ranking personalities were lobbed into a tank of water on behalf of us all while King Neptune made strange incantations etc. it was all good fun and passed a bit more time.

And so we sailed on with Orion and the Great bear with the Pole star giving way to the Southern Cross and a totally different night sky. Our main stop was Durban.

We stayed about four days and marched through the town on a couple of occasions. Because of the heat we were allowed to dispense with battle dress blouses so the populace were treated to a view of us in battle dress trousers held up by braces and khaki wool shirts with no collars.

Compared with the South African military and police in their smartly cur shorts and tailored shirts we must have looked a pretty scruffy lot.

Going ashore gave rise to one of my favourite instructions of all time 鈥淚 want you to pile your life jackets in two piles; so if there鈥檚 more jackets on that pile than there is on that pile then you put it on that pile and if there鈥檚 more on that pile than there is on that pile then I want you to put it on that pile because I want both piles equidistant 鈥� see?鈥� We did.

On one of our trips ashore we were given time to look round the town. Ron, Lou and I 鈥� the three company corporals 鈥� managed to find a fun fair and had a go on the dodgems. One of the others had bought a large bag of grapefruit which soon fell over when the dodgeming started.

Retrieving errant grapefruit added a certain zest to our entertainment 鈥� simple pleasures. We docked in Durban on July 4th 鈥� Independence Day. I mention this because it helps with out time scale. Also because it gave our American crew an opportunity of going ashore and being really independent.

And so we were on the move again; round the Cape of Good Hope (Ha Ha)and heading for the Equator and gradually leaving the Southern Cross behind.

Some time during the next little while, news came through that Tobruk had fallen. This was bad as it meant that Rommel had brought his 鈥楢frika Corps鈥� a step nearer his objective 鈥� Cairo 鈥� and the oil fields of Persia and Iraq.

The thought did just occur that we might, once again, be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We finally reached the last leg of the journey - the Red Sea.

It was unbelievably boring. The open sea may have been a bit dull at times but it was never boring. Because the Red Sea provided a coastline one鈥檚 eye was drawn towards it; it wasn鈥檛 very rewarding though 鈥攋ust one gigantic sand dune that went on for three days.

Suddenly, after three months we were there. Suez. Looking back, the organisational skills involved in getting this huge convoy docked and unloaded with the troops on board now on the way to a desert destination must have been phenomenal.

To say that my memories of the following week or two are a bit vague would be a gross exaggeration. It is all a blur. We were reunited with our worldly possessions and I well remember dragging them over what seemed miles of open desert with the sun blasting down from above and reflected heat from the sand below.

It was July by now 鈥� the hottest part of the year. I rather think we had driven here from Suez and were probably still wearing battle dress as our tropical gear was still in the kit bags which we lugged along to a tented encampment.

This, I believe, was called Khatatba 鈥� give or take an H or two. Egyptian spelling is like that. We were still wearing or carrying our great coats and other military clutter which had added to the discomfort.
After a little while we were sent 鈥榰p the blue鈥� as the saying was.

We were to join the Eighth Army which had stopped the German advance at El Alamein and further attacks were expected when they had another go at Cairo and the Middle East oil fields.

We were driven some way across open desert until we took up position in the battle zone. We were doing a proper job at last. The medical facilities were crude but adequate. They consisted of a large trench with a 鈥榬oom鈥� at each end and another sort of dug-out in the middle.

The whole thing was covered with corrugated iron sheets and a layer of sand on top. It was as hot as hell inside. Bear in mind there was no question of long term stay 鈥攋ust patch up and send them further back.

One evening the Company Commander came to me 鈥淒ent鈥�, he said, 鈥渢he attack is expected tonight. When it occurs three green flares will be sent up and I wish to be informed immediately鈥�, 鈥淥f course, sir.

Some hours later while I was dozing in one of the dug outs the sentry came in and said 鈥渆re, Corp, them flares has gone up鈥�. 鈥淗ave you told the CO?鈥� 鈥淵es鈥� 鈥淲ell get back outside and see what happens next.

鈥� 鈥楾hat鈥檚 funny鈥� I thought 鈥榟ow did they know?鈥� Not long ago I found out that this was one of the first successes of cracking the Enigma Code.

It was a strange feeling at the time because nothing had changed 鈥� no bombing or shelling; no rush of casualties.

鈥楤etter put my boots on鈥�, I thought. It was ten days before I had them off again.

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