大象传媒

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

GEORGE EDWARD WHITING
WAR DIARY
1943 - 1944

SCOTLAND

After that pleasant stay we had at Bothwell near Glasgow, Piddlehinton Camp near Dorchester was a disappointment to us all. At Bothwell we were within easy reach of Glasgow and I went there often with Bill Nyberg, a fellow signaller.
The Paramount cinema used to be our favourite haunt. They always gave a good programme and it was a sumptuous place. Afterwards we would pay a visit to the Church Army canteen for sausages and chips or something else tasty for a ridiculous price, or free. It caused us much amusement afterwards remembering how these people piled second helpings onto us, and then charging us a paltry sum or wouldn鈥檛 give us a bill at all.
Sundays in Scotland finds everything closed but that happy band of Roman Catholics at Uddington treated us to an excellent Sunday evening tea and concert afterwards absolutely free. I played table tennis with Bing Corsby (another signaller) there one night, went in the intelligence bee another night and won a bottle of beer, good beer at that. Vi smiled when I told her they cut the froth off the top of a glass of beer with a knife in Scotland. I saw it being done in some of the public houses there. The nearby town of Hamilton saw Bill and I there once or twice a week for pictures, with always a fish supper afterwards and what fish suppers they were too. If I ever forget Scotland鈥檚 kindness, sociability or generosity, which I hope I won鈥檛, I will remember those fish suppers.
鈥楽leepy鈥� Mason, who lived up to his motto, 鈥渘ever stand when you can sit and never sit when you can lay,鈥� got married while we were up there and how we pulled his leg. 鈥淲hen you getting married Mase?鈥� 鈥淒on鈥檛 know鈥� he would reply. 鈥淒o you want to get married Mase?鈥� 鈥淒on鈥檛 care if I do or don鈥檛.鈥� We all wondered how he would keep awake on his first night.
My knee gave out twice so I had hospital treatment at Stonehouse Hospital three times a week. At the same time Bill Nyberg was in hospital there. So was Jimmy Briden and Jack Edwards got his discharge papers for heart trouble.
We were billeted in a disused school on top of Bothwell鈥檚 mine workings and the school was propped up because it was sinking. It was considered unsafe for children, but safe for soldiers. But we were very comfortable in the big room upstairs, which was in use as a chapel when the school was in use and the organ was still standing there. With someone at the organ, Bing on his ukulele and Goodall exercising his gums many a pleasant hour was passed away.
Benwall, Dillon and Nicholls joined my troop and Grose and Tatem left us for O.C.T.U. I had two leaves from Scotland and on my second I had the inevitable telegram (I usually got one on leave) telling me of the Battery鈥檚 new location. We had got the self-propelled guns in Scotland; the Colonel telling us it was an honour for us to receive the first of a new secret weapon. After many disastrous exercises at Lockerbie through being bogged down in the mud it had been rumoured that we would have to move to better tank country down South. Hence the telegram was no surprise to me. But where the devil was Piddlehinton?

DORSET

I found Piddlehinton on the map with its neighbouring village Piddletrenhide about six miles outside Dorchester. So, after my leave was over I went to Waterloo, caught the 3.30 train and made the journey to Dorchester as I had done so many times before on that line when we were stationed at Bournemouth, Sway and Bradford Down.
It was an exceptionally dark night when I arrived at Dorchester and I went to the R.T.O鈥檚 office who phoned the battery for transport to get me back to the unit. They said there was a truck already in town and I was to meet it at the YMCA. It was of course the passion wagon and I met it all right, but on the way back I had often to step out of the way of a tunic-messeruperer. It was after midnight when we got to the camp and George Donaldson kindly let me sleep on his bed that night for he was on guard.
I got used to Piddlehinton after a while but it was a wrench after friendly Bothwell. The signallers of 鈥淏鈥� troop and 鈥淎鈥� troop all slept in the same hut which had double-decker beds and proper lockers. I slept over the top of George Donaldson. The only places to go in the evening were to Piddletrenhide to a YMCA there or to the NAAFI in the camp. Not many chaps ever got down to the YMCA in the village owing to the fact that it was a three quarters of an hour walk and the European Inn was in between it and the camp.
I went down there once or twice with Bill Nyberg, Cuthbert and Vickery, and on one occasion Vickery and I played Benwall and Nicholls at billiards. Youth versus age as it were, but they gave us a whacking. Lots of my memories are connected with food and this YMCA sold some wonderful pork sandwiches.
In the NAAFI in the camp we could get a good supper or plenty of cakes. And we used to pass the evenings away telling each other stories or else try to juggle with our cigarette and soup coupons, so that we could double up at the counters for an extra lot. I was on fatigue duty overnight at this NAAFI washing up the mugs and as it was nearing Christmas and as I鈥檓 tall they had me hanging up holly and decorations.
It was rumoured that the regiment we were attached to were going overseas so it seemed that more than likely we would also be going. I had a letter from home to say Fred was home on embarkation leave and would be home over Christmas, could I get home to see him?
We had the official notification that we were going overseas and we signed the necessary notice that we wouldn鈥檛 desert or be missing on the last parade. The worst part was when Major Andrews said he was sorry there would be no embarkation leave. We all felt miserable after that.
Panic reigned for days then. Packing, sealing guns up with greasy paper to prevent sea-mist, kit inspections and finally loading the self-propelled guns on to a train at Dorchester Station. I did a 24 hour guard on that train while it stood in the siding and I was also detailed to go with it, to its then, secret destination, but being on guard someone else went instead. I had wanted to go myself as I thought there might have been a chance for me to get home.
I sent a letter to Fred, telling him I was in the same position as him and I wasn鈥檛 getting any leave as we were working right through Christmas.
Christmas Eve came and six of us, Corsby, Dillon, Cuthbert, Nyberg, Sutherland and myself thought it called for a drink so had a walk down to the European Inn. It was a nice, small country pub and the private bar we went in first was just big enough to hold a dozen people. We played darts in between pints, three a side. I was on the opposite side to Dillon who, being a publican, was an expert player, as also he was at Billiards, so we didn鈥檛 win any games. As time went by we got more merry and more erratic with our darts so we packed it in and moved into the public bar where a piano stood awaiting Bing. The regiment we were attached to was a Welsh one and many of their soldiers were in there too, so with Bing tickling the ivories we had a merry sing song. Bill Nyberg, the barber and Northumbrian, sang his Bladen Races, gosh, there was no end to the verses in that song and the Welshmen there also sang some of their fine songs. They turned us out at closing time and we began our rather slow journey back to camp. I managed to get myself up on our double deck bed and sang myself to sleep. This was my second Christmas away from home so I really had nothing to sing about.
We worked all day Christmas Day and Boxing Day and then we had a pleasant surprise. We were all to get five days embarkation leave. I went with the second batch and I had a good leave seeing both Fred and Artie. Vi and I went to London and we saw Ivor Novella in 鈥淭he Dancing Years鈥� and on another day we went to pictures and saw 鈥淭he War Against Mrs Hadley.鈥� The five days soon went and I was back at Piddlehinton.
Somehow I felt sure it was just a scare and we wouldn鈥檛 be going overseas and I had several reasons for thinking so. One, we had had very little training with the self-propelled guns, two, we hadn鈥檛 been issued with any tropical kit and three, we had had no medical inspection. On the strength of these I had taken on three bets with George Donaldson. One, that I would be going home again before we left England. Two, we would not sail before February and three, that we would not be in actual action before March.
I won the first bet as I was able to get home again the week-end following my embarkation leave, giving those at home a pleasant surprise. I lost the second bet as we sailed on the 24th January 1943 and we were not actually firing our guns before March so I won the third bet. I had the laugh on George over these bets too, so he had to pay 2 shillings for his twenty cigarettes in England to pay the first bet to me and I only had to pay 8d for twenty cigarettes on the boat to pay him for the second bet. He said long afterwards that he had the laugh on me because to pay me for the third bet he used his free issue cigarettes.
The lorries had all gone now to their port of loading and having no vehicles or instruments we were on marching drill, firing our small arms, route marches and cross country runs, Captain Leaman took us on a fast walk and run one morning nearly creasing us all up. He was apt, like other young men, to forget that an extra ten years on a man鈥檚 age makes a big difference in physical exercises.
We had an Army Post Office number given us, it was 4505, and we made our wills out in Part One of our pay books. I signed Remnants and Leadbetter鈥檚 wills as a witness and Vickery and Cuthbert signed mine.
On January 18th 1943 we started packing our kit up and the following morning found us on Dorchester Station listening to Captain Leaman giving us our final do鈥檚 and don鈥檛s. We pulled out of the station with Baker the tiffy and one or two others who were not going waving us goodbye.
I think mostly everyone passed near their home on that journey and I felt a pang of homesickness when the train passed through Adison Road station and then through Harrow and Watford. All along the route chaps would be saying 鈥淚f I could get off the train now I could be home in ten minutes鈥� or 鈥渢his is where I live.鈥�
I sat with Bill Nyberg at the beginning, but I deserted him after a while for a game of Solo with schoolmaster Benwell, Nicholls, the chess expert and publican Dillon. I can play Solo fairly well, but the three of them were expert at it, remembering all the cards that had been played or were to be played. They also introduced what they called 鈥済eneral鈥� instead of passes, which was new to me so that everytime we all passed and the 鈥済eneral鈥� was played out it was a foregone conclusion that I would have to pay out. We were on that train most of the day and all night long and most of the time we were playing and in the final check-up I was in credit, so it seemed as if my luck at cards still held good.
Dawn found us still travelling north and the chief topic was where our destination was to be, but it was soon settled when we got in Scotland and stopped at Edinburgh Station for a cup of tea. Then we went on to Glasgow with Maxwell passing within sight of his home and we finally reached King George the Fifth Dock with the dashing to the ground of everyone鈥檚 hopes by getting straight on to the troopship.

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