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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Vijiha Bashir, at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Scotland on behalf of Justine Dowley Wise and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, through poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

This poem ensured that the poppy became the lasting symbol of remembrance. These same fields are still covered in poppies. I have seen them there in full bloom looking like a red carpet, and from time to time the bodies of those soldiers are still being unearthed, then receive a full military re-burial with honours. It was only about twenty years after these words were written, that thousands more were to die in the cause of freedom as World War II spread over the globe bringing with it such desolation, suffering, hardship and grief. As I look back to those early days of that war, I thank God that I was able to leave England then and return to India where I was able to live in more peaceful surroundings. But we still kept in touch over the wireless with the news of those terrible events as they unfolded from day to day in Britain and Europe, and listened to those marvellous speeches of that great man Winston Churchill, which helped to encourage the members of the forces and the people of Britain to ‘keep going’ throughout those dark and difficult days.

RETURN TO INDIA

The train on which we were travelling in August 1940, on that hot summer’s day, was very crowded with troops on their way to Liverpool to join their ships there, and it was a tedious and uncomfortable journey for everyone. We left Malvern at 1pm and were due to arrive at Liverpool at 6pm, travelling via Hereford where we had to change trains but because we were nearly two hours late, we missed the connection and had to wait on the platform for three hours for the next train, in complete darkness because of the blackout restrictions.

Stella Weston, Denis’s younger sister, had kindly offered to travel with us as far as Liverpool to assist mother with little Claire and Peer whom we had brought with us to join his mother on board. We were very grateful for her help because she was also able to assist us with the vast amount of luggage that accompanied us, which had to be loaded and unloaded from the trains.

When we finally reached Liverpool, an air raid siren was sounding. Eventually we managed to find a taxi and reached the hotel quite exhausted around midnight. A pall of smoke lay over the blacked-out city from fires started by an earlier bombing raid on the docks. By the time we had completed the hotel formalities it was 1a.m. and we were just settling down to sleep, when the air raid siren sounded once again. This brought all the hotel staff banging on the bedroom doors urging every one to hurry down to the cellars. Just as we reached there it sounded as though all hell had been let loose. I was terrified as the bombs were exploding all around us shaking the whole building, and the sound of the anti aircraft guns pounding away as they tried to shoot down the bombers was deafening. After the two hour long air raid the ‘all clear’ sounded so we made our way back to our beds again, only to have to repeat the whole procedure an hour later. In spite of such a disturbed night, we still had to be ready early next morning to go to the docks and endure the long procedure of embarkation before boarding the ship. There had been a delay in obtaining our passports before we left, so we were anxiously awaiting the arrival there of Peter’s mother Mary, whom we hoped had been able to collect them in London for us and bring them with her.

Fortunately we didn’t have to wait too long before we saw her and she was able to give them to us. While we had been waiting, we tried to find out more about the ship on which we would be sailing to India, because details had to be kept secret due to the tight security restrictions that were in force.

When we reached the docks, the sight that greeted us was awesome. We realised then, the cause for all the bombing on the previous night. There were giant silver coloured barrage balloons all over the docks to discourage low flying enemy aircraft. Liners packed with troops were moored along the dockside in every direction. Because of the strict secrecy required due to the fact that we would be travelling in a convoy of troopships, it was only then that we discovered that the ship that we were to sail on was called the SS ORION.

The Orion was classified as a luxury liner whose peacetime route was normally to transport immigrants from England to Australia. The Duke of Gloucester launched her in 1934 by a unique radio link from Brisbane in Australia. A button was pressed which transmitted signals around the globe to ultimately activate the launch process. Now she had been painted Admiralty grey and commandeered along with all other liners and fitted out to carry 5,000 troops to the Far East, with some First Class cabins reserved for civilian passengers. (I’ve since discovered that she was fitted out to accommodate 7,000 troops when later she took part in ‘Operation Torch’ in October 1943, when she landed two groups, each of 5,000 men on the coast of North Africa. During the war years she carried 175,000 soldiers and civilians and steamed 380,000 miles on her various voyages. Since she was launched in 1934 she had carried altogether the vast number of 500,000 passengers to various parts of the world. So she did her bit to help win the war and was a very lucky ship to have survived, especially when she steamed treacherous waters for so many years.)

Having thankfully got our passports and completed all boarding formalities, we made our way to the ship. To mark the occasion, we dressed smartly in the outfits we had bought for the aborted flying boat trip. As we walked up the ships gangplank, the soldiers that were lining the decks watching us exploded into a loud chorus of wolf whistling and shouting, which I found very embarrassing and set me wondering if this was what we were to expect during the long voyage ahead. I was told that the Orion was carrying just a few civilian passengers to the Far East, and I believe I was the only teenage girl amongst them.

We were shown to our spacious well appointed cabin and relieved to find that we had been allocated our own deck area where we cold relax away from all those troops. She was lovely ship and as we found our way around her, I marvelled at the fine décor and sumptuous furnishings and gleaming chromium fittings everywhere. There was a beautifully appointed dining room and an enclosed gallery right around the deck where you could walk on windy days, also a small swimming pool. I felt greatly privileged to be travelling in such style and comfort and, after unpacking and settling in, I felt happier about the prospect of the long voyage ahead.

Early the following morning the Orion pulled away from the quayside and steamed towards the open sea. I was intrigued to see a great boom being swung out in front of the bow of the ship which was a strange contraption attached to it. Evidently this was a Paravane; a safety device that would cut the wire rope of any submerged mine with its saw edged jaws before it could hit the ship and blow it up. We were told that all the other ships in the convoy had also been fitted with this device, as we would be sailing in dangerous waters.

Every ship in that convoy had been painted the same shade of Admiralty grey and the sight was awesome as we watched all the liners join, ship after ship, to make a large convoy in an impressive formation. Four destroyers headed the convoy, with an enormous battleship in the centre behind them, followed by The Empress of Australia and The Duchess of York were sailing abreast of each other. Behind them in the centre came The Antonia, followed behind by the two ships Oronsay and Georgic, also sailing parallel to each other. In the centre behind them came our ship the Orion, and completing the formation following behind us were two more ships, Samaria and Asteria. Overhead several planes from an aircraft carrier circled constantly to protect the convoy form attack. As soon as we were away from the coast, all the ships increased their speed in order to get us out of the danger zone as fast as possible, because we were very vulnerable form attack by enemy submarines. The sight of the formidable naval escort all around us comforted us.

Soon after we left the docks, we were called to the Lifeboat Station for lifeboat drill. The life jackets were cumbersome; eight six inch squares of cork sewn into thick canvas (four pieces in front and four behind). This was pilled over your head and tied together by webbing tape under each arm. We were instructed to carry these bulky jackets around with us all the time for most to the voyage.

Mother kept a daily record in her diary of the voyage from Liverpool as far as Cape Town, so I will refer to it from time to time as I write about that eight week voyage. The first entry reads:

‘We were cheered to find that we were travelling in such a fast and important convoy, and it was all very exiting to watch, though we prayed that we would soon be out of the danger zone. Although it was comforting to see such a powerful escort, we realised that our safety lay in the protecting arm of God and our trust must be in Him’.

No sooner had she written these words, than we found that faith was about to be tested by a frightening experience, as she continues:

‘After lunch when we were just clear of the Irish coast, there seemed to be a stir and a rustle of excitement on board all around us, with passengers rushing hither and thither calling out to each other as the ship slowly turned around in the middle of the convoy and we found that we were steering back the way we had come. How sad and heavy were our hearts as we saw the whole convoy steaming past us and we were left all alone in these treacherous waters going in the opposite direction.’

We were all very concerned as we watched the convoy disappearing over the horizon and we were left wondering what had happened. Then the Captain announced that the ship had developed engine trouble and we were making for a port in Scotland for engine repairs, and that every passenger must keep their life jackets with them at all times and observe strict blackout procedures as we were now without any escort travelling in dangerous waters. To make matters worse, the seas became rough and the ship rocked and rolled, and I felt miserable sea-sick and very frightened that we were now so vulnerable to attack from the U Boats and mines all around us, and without any protection. At one point we were ordered to the lifeboat stations when a U boat was sighted and we saw the ship increases her speed and adopt a zigzag course to avoid it, so we were very lucky to have escaped being torpedoed, possibly because we were an unarmed passenger ship therefore proposed no threat to it.

Everyone was very relived when we finally reached the safety of the port of Greenock in Scotland. It was very boring to be stuck there for a whole week while the repairs were carried out, especially as no one was allowed ashore, and tantalizing to see the purple clad hills and rolling green fields in the distance and have to remain on board when we wanted to go ashore and explore.

I t was on Sunday the 11th of September 1940 that we heard cheering coming from the troops on board as the ships engine started up and the Captain told everyone that we would soon be on our way to join another large convoy. At 11 am it was exiting to see a formidable battle cruiser steam slowly past us, and the Orion left its berth to follow her. This was the signal for the Franconia, who had been anchored close by, to join us. There were several other very large ocean liners also full of troops that had been waiting in port with us until our engine repairs had been completed. As we steamed towards the Firth of Clyde, other ships including battleships, destroyers, minesweepers and various other naval craft suddenly appeared from all directions, forming an enormous convoy of eighteen ships. What amazed me was the way in which every ship moved so smoothly into its allotted position with such precision to form a pattern like a giant chess board. It was comforting to see our convoy encircled by such powerful naval craft with planes encircling above to protect it.

The sea was calm but it was very cold even though the sun was shining as we steamed south past the lovely scenery of the west coast of Scotland, but when we reached Irish Sea the weather changed and we hit a terrible storm. Mother describes it in this way:

‘What a night we had. The ship seemed to be rocking about a lot and there was a great deal of creaking and groaning going on. It still continues today and I feel as though I am on a mad rocking horse or a switchback. It was quite interesting watching how the other ships were also being washed by the waves and the destroyer appeared to be submerged for most of the time.’

We sailed down on the east coast of Ireland and finally said goodbye to England as we passed Lands End and entered the Bay of Biscay, notorious for it’s rough seas. The storm continued for two more days, and we didn’t go near the dining room, as we felt seasick. I noticed that all the furniture had been chained to the floor and the rims around the tops of the tables had been raised to prevent the chine glassware sliding off. The waves were breaking over the bow of the ship right onto the deck and I wondered how much longer we would be subjected to this battering. Once in the Atlantic, we were relived when we awoke to blue skies and calm seas and were able to settle down for the first time to enjoy life on board as we sailed towards our first port of call, Freetown in Sierra Leone, on the wet coat of Africa.

Throughout our voyage we were in constant risk of attack from the Nazi U-boat wolf packs that were following us all the way. We continued to travel under high alert conditions, which meant daily lifeboat drill and dragging those awful bulky life jackets everywhere and, at sundown, rigid blackout restrictions were still in force. All the windows and portholes in our cabin s which were our only source of fresh air, had to have heavy curtains drawn across them and as there was no air conditioning in any ships at that time, we only had little fans, which were quite inadequate. An extract form mothers diary vividly describes those conditions:

‘Monday 20th September 1940. It is beginning to get very warm and the awnings have been put up on the deck. The weather is getting very unpleasant as it gets hotter and hotter each day. Last night, the ‘blackout’, which gets earlier each morning, the lounges and cabins were stifling inside, so I took the girls up onto the top deck where we walked in the dark trying to find a cool spot. We were all hoping that we will arrive in Freetown tomorrow. It will be good to see land again, not having sighted any since the Irish coast.’

Freetown was still a British colony, which was the reason for such a concentration of troop ships and naval craft in the area. This was the first port that we could safely enter since leaving the shores of Britain.

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