大象传媒

DUNMOTHER CASTLE

This was written by my late father, George Edward Whiting about his experiences in North Africa during 1943.

I still thought they wouldn鈥檛 send us overseas without a medical inspection, but they did. It was when we were out to sea a couple of days that we had it and then it was only a cursory glance, 鈥渄rop slacks,鈥� 鈥減ull them up鈥� kind of thing.
On the quay before we embarked we were issued with berthing cards. Mine read 鈥淒eck B. Mess Table No. 16鈥� and 鈥淗ammock.鈥� We even began to talk and wonder what the cabins were like, but what a surprise was in store for us. On the other side of the card was printed my fire station and boat station and later on when we had our first boat drill I discovered my boat station was a hanger-on on a raft roughly about four inches of cork rope which I was suffered to hang on with one hand. God help us if anything happens I thought.
I looked everywhere for Fred on the quay as there were thousands of soldiers waiting to embark, but I didn鈥檛 see him and I don鈥檛 know yet whether he was in the same convoy, but I felt sure he was.
Our turn came to embark and we picked up our kit and made for the gangway. I don鈥檛 know whether it was an honour to be first aboard from our troop and I am inclined now to think it will be a greater honour to be first off on English soil again, but, Bernard Vann was first on board and I followed him in a long dragging queue.
When we finally got down to 鈥淏鈥� deck we did not find cabins as we thought, but just deck, with long narrow benches and stools across. The part we were in seemed very small to me to put a troop in, but I got a surprise when they squeezed the battery in for that meant three times as many men in there to what I thought there would be and I had a bigger shock soon after to see the whole regiment squeezed in , nearly ten times more men than I thought there would be.
I won鈥檛 forget for a long while the pandemonium that followed that afternoon and evening. The deck was occupied except for one gangway with mess tables which had a shelf underneath and a shelf above and the ceiling was covered with hammock hooks. Where to put all our kit , we didn鈥檛 know, where were we all to sleep and how could the whole regiment wash in and use the two lavatories? These things puzzled us and we stood in a heap like sheep.
Being one of the first in I had occupied a place on table 16 right next to the porthole which was not open in case we spoke to any of the dock hands. It began to get hot with all those men in such confined space and our tempers with each other got shorter and shorter, but we managed to get some order by tea time. We had to sit in our place on the table and put our kit on the shelf under the table and if one person wanted to pay a visit to the lavatory the whole side of that table had to get up to let him pass for our backs were resting on the backs of the fellow on the next table.
I forgot most of the fellows who sat at the same mess table as myself, but the nearest to me were Nicholls, Maxwell, Benwell, Dillon and Nyberg. The next table down from us was occupied by 鈥淎鈥� troop and we had that annoying, argumentative Myers and company to put up with the whole of the voyage. They played cards continually and as their money was limited it was on credit most of the time. One chap owed Myers 拢90 before the end of the trip so tempers were very high at intervals. I never knew whether he got his money or not.
The pandemonium really began when it got to hammock time. A mad scramble for hammocks, a mad scramble for your own hooks on the ceiling to hook them on, arguments, heat and the awful smell of sweating bodies made it seem like bedlam. Not being too pushy myself I lost my position above my place on the mess table and had to finally rig my hammock in the gangway. Afterwards, I was very glad to be in that gangway for apart from getting a buffeting from passers-by to and from the lavatory there was a nice breeze flowing, so I was much more comfortable than I expected to be. Getting into the hammock was another problem and there was many a laugh or curse from fellows trying to get in and tipping out again, but after finally getting into mine, fully dressed and with a lifebelt on my chest, I found it to be very comfortable. It was an order that we must go to bed fully dressed with the lifebelt on and it was a fortnight later that I took my clothes off for bed, we used to take off our boots during the day to rest our feet. As I laid there trying to sleep I thought God help us of something happens during the night for there was a terrific crowd sleeping on that deck. Later on we had a boat drill each day and it used to take 15 to 20 minutes to reach the open deck on board and get to our raft for a roll call, so as you can guess what the position would be if something serious had happened. By the end of the trip we had begun to like our hammocks and we had got some sort of a system working smoothly, but that first day and night on board was a nightmare.
The ships canteen opened before breakfast every morning so we had tea before breakfast that following day after queuing for it in a queue that went three times round the ship. Then we started our continual round of queuing for washing, lavatories and feeding. The water for washing was salt water and no one could get a lather up to wash or shave properly.
I used to marvel though at the wonderful system they had on the galleys to turn out perfect, meals for thousands of men in such small places as their galleys were. Lovely, freshly baked, pure white bread after the national loaf was like manna from heaven.
We explored the ship as far as we were allowed to go which was up on deck and the crowd up there was as bad as a football crowd and we found out that the ships name was the 鈥淒unmother Castle.鈥�
We had nothing to do all day and we were still in the dockside with armed Military Police on the gangway to prevent anyone getting off so we spent out time looking over the rails at the dock workers. Tiring of that we went down below to play Solo and I began to learn how to play chess from Nicholls.
On Friday January 22nd 1943 we pulled out from the dock and sailed up the Clyde. No singing or cheering as we left, only everybody quietly staring at the receding dock and thinking his own poignant thoughts. I never knew so many men could be so quiet.
Maxwell saw, or thought he saw, someone he knew on the bank of the Clyde and was frantically waving to them but of course the person couldn鈥檛 recognise him in such a crowd that was looking over the side. I thought of home a lot on that trip down the Clyde and the passing activity of all the shipyards did not interest me except to give me an added confidence that with all that ship building in progress we couldn鈥檛 help but win the war. But would I come back, that was what I was thinking and chiding myself for such thoughts told myself 鈥淥f course you will.鈥� It was a dreadful feeling that first few minutes of sailing and everybody was very quiet, but the sad moments passed when we came up to where the rest of the troopships were gathering together at the mouth of the Clyde.
The ships all anchored there and we surmised the convoy would move during the night. It was a beautiful, moonlight night I remember and it was pleasant to imagine it was peacetime and we were on a liner going for a cruise, but the ships were not lit up and all the khaki around spoiled the illusion.
Next morning the word went round like wildfire that the rest of the convoy had gone, something was wrong with our ship. Sure enough, going on deck we found others had gone and then the speculation began. Would we go at all? Perhaps we would put back to the dock, have some more leave and go with the next convoy. All that day we watched the coming and going of engineers and rumours flourished.
The next day, the 24th of January we moved and it was out to sea. We had two eggs for breakfast that morning and as the ship got out more into the heavier swell our stomachs began to feel queer. As soon as we had started McBreen was hanging his head over the side bringing his heart up and Ben was continually reminding himself and us that he would soon be bad too. As it turned out he was bad a day or two later on, but in my opinion auto-suggestion played a big part in that.
We were travelling fast all that day and the weather got worse and one by one we were seasick. I was still holding my own, so was Nicholls, Maxwell and Dillon who were near to me but Ben was still thinking he was and was holding his head in his hands feeling very miserable. That night was very rough with the ship shuddering, the waves slapping the side of the ship like a gun report and it was extremely hard to walk along the deck. Our hammocks swayed like a pendulum all night and I got a lot of bumps from chaps making hurried visits to the lavatory and in the morning there were plenty who didn鈥檛 want their breakfast.
I think I would have been alright altogether if I hadn鈥檛 gone into the lavatory to wash and shave and caught that awful smell in there and in two minutes I was as bad as the rest. I was only bad that day and later that day Ben was really sick and Nicholls and Maxwell had a go. We watched Dillon turn a ghastly green. We were playing cards at the time and we kept asking him of he felt all right for he looked a dreadful colour. 鈥淵es, I feel OK!鈥� He said several times until at last he couldn鈥檛 hold it any longer and made a dash for the lavatory. Up on the deck were many stretched out sick and Tom Cuthbert was among them. He disappeared for two or three days and we went up on deck several times turning over a few blokes to see if it was him.
During the day we had caught up with the rest of the convoy and we were glad to get into the protection of the destroyer escort. Our normal day on board was: Reveille 6.30am, breakfast at 8am, up on deck by 9 o鈥檆lock until first boat drill at eleven. Canteen was open at eleven so we had tea then if we lined up for it. Then downstairs if we wanted to when the card schools would open up. Dinner at 12.30, cards or walking the deck until the second boat drill at 4.30 then more card playing and tea drinking until hammock issuing time at eight o鈥檆lock.
We had to do one or two guards on the boat such as guarding watertight doors and black out watchers, but they were all easy. Fresh water was very short and the salt water would not lather even with our issue of salt-water soap. The canteen was a handy little shop where we could buy cigarettes and tobacco at the non-taxable price. Woodbines were ten for four pence and they were export Woodbines too, bigger and better than we could remember they were before the war. We bought tins of jam too, to help our meals out.
The journey began to get monotonous after about five days out and we had got tired of looking at the endless sea or the other boats about us and nothing exciting happened. Not that we wanted anything to happen, but it was certainly getting dull. This caused more card playing down below decks and tempers were getting shorter. The table behind us belonging to 鈥淎鈥� troop caused us considerable annoyance through their continual bickering and quarrels.
The weather was getting better too. It was getting warmer and the ship did not roll so much. All of us were getting our sea legs and most seasickness was over bringing forth some faces on deck we hadn鈥檛 seen since the first night out.
Up to now we didn鈥檛 know where we were bound. The rumours had it that half the convoy was for India and the rest for North Africa. But, surely I thought, we were taking a long time to reach Gibraltar if we were going to North Africa, but the reason for this was apparent later on. The convoy did not take the shortest, obvious route because of U-boats but went far into the Atlantic, some said as far as halfway to America. All the ships of the convoy went the same speed, that is the cruising speed of the slowest boat and all ships were zigzagging all the time. That was the reasons for us taking such a long time to get to Gibraltar.
The days passed by, getting warmer each day. We had a lecture on board and it was explained to us that we were going to support the First Army in North Africa. Where we would land they didn鈥檛 know.
In the evenings we would play cards or chess and every night Big Wilson would give a performance of his rude songs and parodies accompanied by Bing on his mouth organ. Whether Wilson made them up himself I don鈥檛 know but they were clever in a crude sort of way and he could keep on and on, causing great laughter among the men. Afterwards when we had heard them for the umpteenth time they began to pale a bit and bored us.
On the eighth night out I was on guard in the hold on the watertight doors and at three o鈥檆lock in the morning I was told by one of the crew that we were now passing Gibraltar. By the time I was relieved off guard and gone up on deck Gibraltar had passed, but on both sides of the ship I could see the brilliant lights of the Spanish towns glowing out in the darkness of the night. What a pleasant sight to see after nearly four years of blackout. But other things attracted my attention. I was looking up at the beautiful, starlit night, more stars than I had ever seen before, nearer to earth they were, brighter and not clouded over with a single wisp of cloud. The ship too, there was something different with it, no rolling or sway at all and I looked over the side and had my first glimpse of the Mediterranean. It was like a deep blue mirror reflecting every star in it with not a single ripple in it except the slight one the ship was making. Looking over the stern of the ship I saw a ribbon of light in the wake of the ship caused, I learned afterwards, by the propellers churning up the phosphorous matter in the sea. It was so bright that I thought any night bomber should have been able to track us quite easily from above.
But this beautiful, calm sea was a dangerous one for us, this was where the submarines lurked and the ships of the convoy were zigzagging more frequently than before, making the white ribbon of light at the stern of the ship look like a snake. That鈥檚 how I saw the blue Mediterranean for the first time, on the last night of January 1943.
Dawn came and there were plenty of things to look at. First thing we noticed was that only half of the convoy was still with us and I began to wonder about Fred again. Was he still with me in one of the other ships or was he with the part left at Gibraltar or wasn鈥檛 he with is at all?
The beautiful blue, calm sea and the clear, blue sky was the talk and admiration of everyone that morning and on our left could be seen the huge towering mountains of Spain which looked like great clouds, with the naked eye.

Early in the afternoon Algiers came in sight and it looked beautiful and romantic from the sea. The white and cream buildings, dazzling in the sun, from the waters edge to high up in the mountains behind, reminded me of an old-fashioned dresser with china vases and ornaments on it. Our interest grew as we drew nearer and saw some of the fine buildings there and the amount of British shipping there, was a comforting and reassuring belief in our ultimate safety.

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