大象传媒

John Martins War(Part 2)

I signed on at Worcester in April 1942 and then reported to the basic training camp (Markeaton Park) in Derby in May 1942. This was a six weeks session (with no leave,) and included drilling, PE, arms familiarity and assault courses. Not to mention route marches, but all in all, not too arduous. I spent my twentieth birthday here, a somewhat somber occasion, as we were not allowed out of camp until we had learned to dress properly!

After a short leave I was off to a three month course at Bradford Tech College on Radio Theory etc. I found this course most instructive and very pleasant as we were billeted with local, very friendly residents. This was followed by another course at Derby learning the insides of the many wireless items we were to look after. Again, this proved of great use in the field.

From here we went off to Burscough where we had more practical hands-on fault finding training, using actual service equipment, whist waiting for our embarkation. Most of this training was in the period 1942/43 about nine months in all.

So in August 43, after a short stay at a camp in Nottingham, I sailed from Glasgow, down the Clyde, into our great adventure. In a convoy (listed as 鈥淩DYAG鈥�) we struck out well into the Atlantic to avoid enemy action, then coming east to meet the Straights of Gibraltar. There was very little of note on the voyage. I think the ship was the Durban Castle, one of the Castle line group. The most notable thing on the trip was the abundance of newly baked bread rolls, a real treat. We were landed at Bone in N. Africa and then on to a holding camp at Phillipville, just inland. From here we went by rail in cattle trucks via Constantine to Algiers.

At the time we arrived at Algiers, the main Eighth Army were on the attack in Sicily, September 鈥�43. Here we established our workshops in a disused Citroen garage and we got down to work. Faulty items were already piled up for our attention and here we stayed until well into the New Year when we set off yet again, for Italy. It seemed that, due to the large amount of highly technical equipment we travelled with, our place was a safe distance behind all the action. For this we should have been grateful.

We landed at Taranto, into a transit camp and a few days later were on our way up the east coast to our new home, Molfetta, just north of Bari, where we spent several years. Our home was an empty high-class school with great lofty rooms and tiled floors.
大象传媒ing days, due to the high temperatures, were from an early hour (6 am) to midday, when we broke for lunch, the rest of the day was our own. We usually escaped by hitch-hiking to the next village (Bisceglie), where there was a more pleasant shoreline. The hours spent in a sleepy lagoon were much appreciated.
The town boasted a cinema and a live theatre where we could enjoy real opera. All this was in Italian of course. As we stayed in this location for several years we made many friends and the locals were most kind.
My main source of recreation was with a family in the next village, Bisceglie, within hitch hiking and even walking distance.
This consisted of Mama and an elderly father, two sons and three daughters. The eldest son was an able seaman (resting) and the other son was an ex school teacher, later an Italian Army officer. Also resting. The girls were all in their teens so it was a refreshing escape from army life, especially as they welcomed me and a friend, into the family and regularly fed us. I quickly became quite fluent in the local dialect. They owned a country chalet, which was in the middle of a cherry orchard, some 2/3 miles from the town. It was very easily accessible to a rather pleasant secluded bay with clear water and large rocks suitable for sunbathing. Our very own lido, and of course my Decca portable radio, which served me for many years, came along too.

We frequently organised parties for picnics in this idyllic spot. The daughters had a number of friends, some boys but mainly girls, all very sparkling in their summer frocks, who accompanied us on our picnics but there was always 鈥淢amma鈥� or deputy who came along to chaperone us. These were delightful occasions and I am still in touch with the few who are left, because in 2000 I wrote a letter to the family asking if they were still in the same area, in fact one granddaughter (a teacher) met us in England when she brought a class here for holiday schooling.
One of my memories was the regular journey back, round about midnight, when I travelled back from the next village (Biceglie) on the footplate of a goods train. The crews were most happy to give me a lift and in the winter time, I appreciated standing in front of the open firebox. The locals really enjoyed our antics. Another episode I remember, was when we were called upon to install wireless communication equipment into some tanks. (Sherman tanks I think) This was very hot and sticky work in such confined places and needed holes drilled in various places to accommodate the wiring.

I remember Christmas Eve 1944. With no news from home, My mate, Mike and I were rather fed up, so we went to our local caf茅, settled down with a couple of bottles of liqueurs and proceeded to be miserable. Just before the caf茅 closed a couple of disappointed American GIs came in and when they heard we were shutting, invited us along to their local mess. This put us in a better mood and off we went. It wasn鈥檛 very long before Mike was told that I was lying on the floor of the toilet, dead to the world. It was lucky that the yanks rallied round and carted me back to the billet, putting me to bed. The next morning, Christmas day, the sergeants came round with our tea and hearing the sad story, organised the other lads, to carry me, in my bed, out to the front of the building, leaving me in the courtyard in full view of the local populace. Before long I plucked up courage, (I was naked of course) gathered my blanket around me and hightailed it back inside. I was not amused, but whose fault was it?

Another activity whilst we were at Molfetta was the monthly organisation of dirt track racing monthly, on Sundays. The lads pieced together some 20 bikes from bits and pieces and we were off to Trani, a little way up the coast. I am not sure how the track came to be there or how we got to use it, but we did. It was very exciting. As the wireless mechanic, I was in charge of providing a PA system. Where the gear came from, I don鈥檛 remember, but it was quite elaborate, with printed programme of events. I remember the huge horn loudspeaker the workshop constructed from sheet steel and fed from a Tannoy speaker box, if I鈥檇 got it right. And so we passed the years away.

The war in Europe ended in May 1945, but we were still there, waiting impatiently for news of our future, whilst England celebrated VE day. There was little celebration where we were as there was no sign of us going home.

It wasn鈥檛 until the end of the year (Dec 45) when we were allowed home leave, going by train via Milan to our homes, but this was not the end. I was back in Italy during the following January (1946) to assemble a mobile workshop, fill it with test equipment from a dump in Naples, ready to proceed to Greece for the coming elections. This was a policing activity with no real action. In March 1946 I was landed at Piraeus for Athens and we were then based a little way along the coast beside the sea. (Glyfada?)We were attached to the 181 Infantry Brigade and responsible for all their communication equipment. It was an interesting time and not too arduous. I was in sole charge of the workshop for the first time and I eventually rated corporal. One of my side duties was the entertainment of the troops, so I was the one to organise a fortnightly dance evening on the camp, bringing in the ladies of Athens and making sure they all left at the end of the evening. Not too hard a task.

This was the end of my wartime adventures as I returned home for demob. In February 1947 just in time for the big freeze up.

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