´óÏó´«Ã½

As far as I remember a draft of us young troopers left Combermere Barracks, Windsor, to join our regiment somewhere in the Middle East at the end of 1942. There were about 20 of us, plus a couple of 2nd Lieutenants and two NCOs. We marched to the railway station and soon made ourselves comfortable - but not for long, as the train made frequent stops to pick up more troops. By the time we reached Liverpool the carriages were heaving with bodies, all with equipment.

Having stopped at the station, we were ordered out and told to form up on the platform. Then we marched to the docks where we boarded a troopship, the SS Rangitiki. The next step was to climb down endless ladders to where we would live. I am sure some readers will remember trying to go down those ladders with all one's kit on one's back. After all that, we realized we were on E deck, well below the water line, which made some of us think, 'What if we met any submarines?' What a scramble it would be to get on deck with life jackets on. Next, we had Boat Drill before we left port. Some of the lads had the life jackets on back to front — others, upside down. I don't think any of us would have made good sailors.

At last we moved away from the quayside and out into the open sea, where there were lots of other transports and escort vessels taking up stations. The first two weeks were terrible. Squaddies were seasick - some very ill - and the mess deck, where we ate and slept, really was a 'mess'. I was lucky - I was never sick on any of the ships I was on.

The Rangitiki was chased by one of the escorts to make us keep up with the others, I assume. It was said that the speed of a convoy was determined by the slowest ship. Well, I reckon that was the Rangitiki.

After about two weeks, the cry went up one morning that land was in sight. Everyone went to the side where land was sighted, and the old tub took on a list - some thought it would tip over. Eventually, the convoy anchored out in the Bay of Freetown, Sierra Leone. No troops were allowed onshore, as one might catch something very nasty. The port was solely a bunkering station. Even so, there was some entertainment for the troops on board. The locals paddled out in their one-person Bum-boats, filled with fruit and other bits and pieces. They also dived for what was called a 'Glasgow Tanner' - coins thrown for them by the boys on board.

After a few hours in Freetown we upped anchor. The weather was getting warmer, and sunbathing was the order of the day, but we had to be careful — if one got badly sunburned, one was put on a 252, and you all know what that is.

Some days later, the convoy rounded the Cape of Good Hope. We were just able to see Table Mountain in the distance. Some of the convoy left us and steamed into Cape Town - the rest of us steamed on into the Indian Ocean, and in a few more days we were entering the Port of Durban, where we were due to change ships. As we slowly edged into our dock, we heard the beautiful voice of the 'Lady in White' - she greeted all the troopships that entered Durban.

We immediately marched to another dock to a great liner, a Dutch cruise liner called The New Amsterdam. We were to complete the rest of our sea journey to the Middle East on this ship. She had been kitted out for use as a trooper, and was supposed to be very, very fast. There were even a couple of swimming pools on board, but not for the likes of us. Now we were going like hell towards Suez, and there was no escort. Was it because she could outrun a U-Boat? After weeks since leaving the UK, we finally arrived at our destination, Egypt, but that's another story.

Just a last word about the Rangitiki: her Ack Ack Guns were manned by a group called DEMS. Perhaps someone could tell me what those initials stood for? And whatever happened to the old tub, our home for many weeks? Perhaps someone reading this may know…

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