Coming of Age: 1939-1946 Part 6

I was caught out by a British major when I failed to salute him; he asked me where I was stationed and when I answered "Shaiba." he enquired, "don't they salute officers there now? They used to when I was Provost Marshal." I had not worn my greatcoat for ages when I was in Shaiba and had not polished the bra.s.s but it was much colder in Teheran and I was now wearing it. He eyed the green bra.s.s b.u.t.tons of my greatcoat with disapproval but let me off with a warning as he realised that I was on leave from that G.o.d-forsaken spot; I think he felt sorry for me.

We went to a cinema to see Bambi which I had seen before in England but this was different; the sound track was in English with French sub-t.i.tles and to one side a separate screen about seven feet square carried the dialogue in Farsi. It was just as well that I had seen it before because those who could read explained the film to those who could not and I could hardly hear the sound track for the constant babble.

Compared to Shaiba the air was cool and crisp and my friend who was a bit of an amateur astronomer said that under the right conditions the planet Mercury could be seen with the naked eye and sure enough under a cloudless sky just after sunset we saw it quite close to the sun's edge; I've often looked for it but I've never seen it since. The reason for our choosing Teheran as a vacation centre was that another couple of members of our group had gone there not long before and spoke of it approvingly; they had stayed a little longer than we and had climbed, or partially climbed, Mount Demavend that was about 19,000 feet high. We had no desire to copy them but spent the best part of a day walking northwards from Teheran seeing the wide open s.p.a.ces apparently uninhabited apart from the occasional local who viewed us with interest and suspicion as to our intent. In the city one of the main sights was the railway station, an architectural gem that had been built earlier by the Germans. Being a carpet weaving centre there were all shapes, sizes, colours and patterns on display and also for sale, many laid out on the sidewalks to be walked upon by pa.s.sers-by which surprised us. I wasn't too certain about the sanitary arrangements but on many streets I saw open gutters running between the sidewalk and the road and there seemed to be ample water run-off from the northern highland. All good things have to come to an end and after two weeks we caught the train back to Ahwaz and thence to Shaiba.

For entertainment we had radio programs relayed from Britain but we also picked up programs emanating from Ahwaz which was under American control. Rum and Coca Cola sung by The Andrews Sisters was pounded out at least three times daily. Occasionally boxing was arranged between ourselves and the Americans to what we would call amateur rules, three three-minute rounds with a two-minute break between rounds, no referee in the ring but with the contests bring controlled verbally by an officer at ringside. The styles of the two countries differed and we considered ourselves lucky if we won three out of the ten bouts.

Naturally we cheered for our own boxers but were appreciative of any American who adopted the more upright stance rather than the American crouch. There were frequent cinema shows and sometimes ENSA parties visited us on their tours of army bases; twice I recall going to shows given by touring Russian groups; though the language was unintelligible to most of us the types of turns given did not require any great understanding of Russian and their performances were first cla.s.s. I usually went along fairly early to grab a reasonable seat and was frequently annoyed when I was dispossessed by late arriving superiors; on such occasions I sometimes returned to my billet to read a book or to go to sleep; I was fairly content in my own company.

The army would not be the army if we did not have visitations at times by the top bra.s.s. I don't remember and I don't think I ever knew who the officer was who came to inspect our installations; I wasn't much interested. However the Machine Shop was set up to display our talents and virtually every machine was to be working, operators were called in from other jobs where necessary and Johnny Lockett was one such lucky one. Although he was a skilled man he had been put to work driving an internal gharri around the base on trivial errands but now he was called in to stand by a machine that was honing the bores of cylinder blocks and he was doing just that when the top bra.s.s came by. The machine had been previously set up.

"And what's going on here?" asked top bra.s.s.

"Honing cylinder bores Sir".

"I see, and how metal are you removing?"

"Don't know, Sir."

"You don't know! then what are you doing here?"

"Watching, Sir."

"What's your trade?"

"Precision grinder, Sir."

"Precision grinder and you don't know how much metal you're removing?"

"No, Sir, I was just told to come here and stand by the machine. I don't think it's cutting anything." Johnny Lockett was not very popular with his superiors after that and I believe he went back to driving the internal gharri.

I think it was about July or August 1945 that I was transferred to Egypt, anyway while we were in transit we read that the Americans had dropped a super bomb on j.a.pan and the consensus among us was, "There they go, bragging again," and we put it out of our minds.

We travelled in style this time -- to start with. After WWI two Australians, seeing the potential, had acquired some vehicles and started a company, Nairn Transport, to carry pa.s.sengers and freight across the Middle East and our party was put on two of their air conditioned coaches to travel from Baghdad to Damascus. The routes had been well established by this time and the coaches left the metalled roads and went across the desert in a fairly straight line from point A to point B. I was in the second coach following the leader and for a while all went well; we kept a reasonable distance between us because our pa.s.sage stirred up a whirl of loose sand. Of course it had to be our coach that eventually broke down; our driver honked and honked until he got the attention of the leader; consultations followed. By-and-by a tow chain was. .h.i.tched to one of our front spring shackles and off we went. With no power we had no air conditioning and the heat became unbearable so we opened the windows. This was not a good idea because we were following close, a tow chain's length, behind the other coach and we were in the minor sandstorm of its wake. Soon our sweaty bodies were caked with sand and the only respite came when the front spring shackle gave way and we ground to a halt. Repairs were made and the tow chain was re-attached, this time to the other front spring shackle.

Many miles farther on this one also gave up the ghost and there were no more spare parts available for repairs, fortunately a small Arab settlement was close at hand. It was now night and we waited and waited until a relief coach reached us and took us uneventfully into Damascus.

The next day we boarded the metre gauge railway train bound for Dar"a.

My memory now fails me; I remember pa.s.sing the southern end of Lake Tiberias and arriving at Haifa but I don't know how I got there. From Haifa we took a train along the coast into Egypt, crossing the Suez Ca.n.a.l at El Qantara, finis.h.i.+ng up eventually at another desolate spot, No.2 Base Workshops at Tel-el-Kebir.

TEL-EL-KEBIR

I remember my father telling me when I was a youngster that the battle of Tel-el-Kebir was one of the last battles in which the British fought in red coats. I suppose that it stayed in his mind because it would have been still in the news when he was a child, the battle having taken place in 1882. No.2 Base Workshops was in that general vicinity but as usual it was in the wide open s.p.a.ces; it was similar to Shaiba in size and content and served the same purpose. On one of my trips to Cairo I pa.s.sed through the town -- or was it too small to be so called -- and I paused at the cemetery where the British dead of that battle were buried and my thoughts went back to my father's tales.

The European war had finished and the American claim to have a super bomb was no longer bragging, it was a reality. The debate over the use of the atomic bomb rages on but my opinion then and still today is that it was justified in that it shortened the war and saved many 1000's of lives, j.a.panese as well as Allied, maybe even mine. It depends on whose ox is being gored. We were going in the right direction and demob was in sight.

British forces in No.2 BW included quite a number of Jews who had every reason to want Germany defeated; initially they were integrated with us, they said they didn't want to be isolated in ghettos but as time went on and as they absorbed more and more of military training and organisation they felt large enough and competent enough to warrant separate status.

When I arrived at Tel-el Kebirs' camp, the Jewish camp, was an accomplished fact. I imagine that Haganah was born or nurtured there; maybe Irgun also.

The DO staff was larger than that at Shaiba and included several Jews one of whom became my friend; his parents had sent him to Palestine before the war when things looked threatening in Austria and by the time I met him all his family had perished in Dachau. He was alone in the world and he joined the British forces I sensed hostility on the part of two other Jews, one male, one female; I don't know why, I hadn't done anything to them, perhaps they thought the British were standing between them and the creation of the Israeli state.

The office work was much the same as before, nothing very exciting; one of the lads, Craftsman Edlin wis.h.i.+ng to upgrade his draughtsman's rating applied to be trade tested and was told to design a lawn mower for the officers' quarters. Since the lawn at the officers' quarters boasted about 50 blades of gra.s.s per square foot this was a little silly.

DO STAFF No.2 BASE WORKSHOPS TEL-EL-KEBIR Back row (l to r) George. Sgt Madders. Cfn Grey. Cfn Pulgram . Sgt Wa.s.sel. Cfn Brewster. Cfn Edlin. Cpl Johnsoon. Faris Seated Sgt Simon. S/Sgt Tudor. Herta Weiskopfova. Lt Hackman. S/Sgt Rollason Squatting Tony

To control traffic in and out of the compound barriers were placed across the roads at suitable places; these followed standard army design, probably unchanged for a couple of centuries, a pole spanning the width of the road, pivoted at one end and counterweighted.

Alongside the installation an Arab sat on a cus.h.i.+on on an upturned petrol can, waiting for customers. I don't believe he had any means of identifying friend or foe but when he was satisfied he raised the pole to allow a lorry through. There was one drawback to this system however, come quitting time he would pick up his cus.h.i.+on and off he would go, back to the wife and kids, often leaving the pole neither vertical nor horizontal but at about 45. An unsuspecting lorry driver coming in after dark and seeing no horizontal barrier would charge straight ahead and that would mean vehicle repairs and a replacement pole. To overcome this shortcoming design ideas were solicited and I got busy with a matchbox, a penholder (the wooden rod type, then current), paper clips and a light spring that I wound out of some fine wire. The principle I used was not original. Simply put, the operating lever in this case the bent paper clip due to spring action would only stay in one of two extreme positions and the pole, in this case the penholder would also only stay on one of two extreme positions.

I gave the model to the sergeant who seemed impressed and it was pa.s.sed up through the ranks, everyone trying to beat it. Eventually it finished up in the hands of Brigadier b.u.t.ters; he seemed satisfied and gave the go-ahead to modify one of the existing barriers. The most suitable one was close to the DO and this we decided to modify. At this stage it should be pointed out that design ideas are transformed into finished products by means of engineering drawings, these really have the status of legal doc.u.ments to be followed precisely. This is at variance with the beliefs of some people who think that a drawing is only a pretty picture of something that has already been made; more than once I've been asked, "Where do you get the model you've copied?"

The barrier was duly examined and drawings prepared showing exactly what had to be done to modify it to the new design and the drawings were issued to the machine shop.

In charge of the machine shop were two Polish officers whose names to me were both unp.r.o.nounceable and unspellable and they oversaw the modifications. I believe their hearts were not in the job, they resented being told what to do even via drawings by a lowly craftsman but since the brigadier had ordained it they had to comply. "Vy don't ve do like in ze old country?" they asked, meaning that they wanted to make a barrier operated by a pinion and quadrant, like in ze old country that could be similarly be left up in the 45 position.

They took matters into their own hands and decided not to work on the existing barrier but to start from scratch; they didn't even build it across a road but selected a spot near the machine shop. A steel tube was used for the pole and metal strips dangled from it to simulate a solid barrier when the pole was horizontal. To balance the extra weight of the strips the counterweight had to be increased and then the tube began to bend so they rammed a solid bar inside the tube. Two channel sections were concreted into the ground to support the tube and the pivot rod was beautifully mounted on ball bearings; the only thing was the thing didn't work. Ignored were all my design instructions particularly regarding the relations.h.i.+p of the centre of gravity to the pivot point that were detailed on my drawings and that had been approved by the major in charge of the DO. The springs and shock absorbers that had been salvaged from sc.r.a.pped vehicles were also not mounted where they should have been. In short the Poles had created something of a dog's breakfast and they awaited the brigadier's inspection with some concern. He was not pleased. The project was abandoned and when I left to be demobbed some five months later it still stood in isolation in the desert, a stark monument to false pride and stupidity.

With the end of the European war conditions had eased a little and I took advantage of this to spend a couple of days in Cairo; I did the usual tourist things, viewing the Sphinx and climbing a little way up the Great Pyramid at Giza. Coming down to earth again I found some Arabs with their camels gathered at the base of the pyramid waiting for people like me and of course I couldn't resist being photographed aboard a static camel. Another half day was spent in the Cairo Museum where Tutankhaman's historical artefacts were the main attraction. We could also go occasionally to a spot on the Suez Ca.n.a.l, Lake Timsah, for a weekend where the army had established Ferry Point Leave Camp, where tent tops were situated amongst pine trees and where discipline was relaxed. The trip by army lorry took us by Zagazig and the Sweet Water Ca.n.a.l where to fall in meant a series of unpleasant injections by the MO. We lazed and swam and ate and sun bathed and for the first time saw little sea horses I found that I could float in the ca.n.a.l whereas I never could in fresh water but I also found that there were leeches in the water and a couple attached themselves to me.

DO & CLERICAL STAFF No.2 BASE WORKSHOPS. AFTER VJ DAY

Sometimes we went into Ismailia, a nearby town for a change of pace, perhaps to the open air cinema or to buy something to send home; I remember sending packets of jordan almonds and dates back to Britain.

The war with j.a.pan was now officially over but mopping-up would still take some time and troops.h.i.+ps of pink Brits were constantly pa.s.sing; we used to cheer them up by yelling, "Get yer knees brown, Pinky."

or, "Yer going the wrong way." Many of the old stagers among us were fried to a deep brown and could easily pa.s.s for natives and some used to swim out to the troops.h.i.+ps and emulating the natives dive for pennies thrown by the unsuspecting pink Brits.

The army had spent a lot of time over the years teaching us to do the most uncivil things and now they attempted to re-humanise us; for this purpose members of the Army Educational Corps were sent out to lecture us on several subjects dealing mainly with the practical side of living, buying houses, mortgages, how to deal with uncooperative neighbours, a little applied psychology and the like; quite useful really.

With my Jewish friend I took the opportunity to go to Palestine; we stayed in Haifa in the Hotel Mizpah on Hadar Harcarmel. We did the rounds there and then split up for a while as he had friends in the area, later we went on to Jerusalem staying at the YMCA. On my own I wanted to see a bit of the city and as I was wandering around trying to decide which way to go I was accosted by a self-appointed guide who insisted on showing me the sights. I said, "No -- no -- NO" but I couldn't shake him off, whichever way I turned he was there chatting away and pointing out things that he thought I should see. Actually he spoilt my day and when the tour was over I felt obliged to give him something, he told me his fee and I gave him half; that didn't please him but he might have learned that "no" means "no."

I went on to Tel Aviv where I booked in at Toc H, Talbot House; wanting to see as much as possible I parked my belongings on my bed and off I went into town. I don't remember too much of the place, I wasn't there long enough. It was a lovely sunny day and the brilliant whites of the buildings stay in my mind -- and of course the beach. Going back to my room I discovered a letter on my bed, it was addressed to A British soldier, somewhere In Israel and bore at its top right-hand corner what purported to be a facsimile of an Israeli stamp though of course Israel didn't exist at that time. The gist of the message inside was to this effect, "If you are ordered to open fire on Jews, disobey the order."

I carried this letter around with me for ages until after I was demobbed when I put it aside with other memorabilia and although I've hunted and hunted it has unfortunately disappeared. After my stay in Tel Aviv I returned to Jerusalem for a few days, looked around again, this time without a guide and got set to go back to Haifa. This was on November 11th 1945 and there had been some Israeli terrorist bombings. The bus company decided to go on strike but I managed to flag down a jeep and hitch a ride all the way. Arriving at Haifa the Military Police stopped me from returning to the Hotel Mizpah as more bombings were expected and I was forced to put up at The Union Jack Club near the waterfront. The accommodation was dormitory style, one floor up and my companions for the night were all Jews, about six of them, members of the British forces. The conversation naturally turned to the unrest in the country and I was given a comprehensive and detailed account of Jewish history and of their aspirations. I was told with some exaggeration of all the famous people in the world who were Jews, some claims I knew to be true, of others I was uncertain but I didn't argue. After three-quarters of an hour of this one said, "we're wasting our breath, he doesn't believe us," and the conversation turned to more innocuous subjects before we drifted off to sleep. The next day I went along to the bus station feeling a bit peeved to think that I was the owner of an unused return half ticket and was prepared for a minor confrontation but to my surprise the bus company offered me, without the slightest murmur, half the cost of the original fare. The Military Police allowed me to go back into my hotel to collect my belongings; I bought some Christmas cards that had pressed flowers inside labelled Flowers from the Holy Land and then with Louis I returned to No.2 Base Workshops.

Now that the war with j.a.pan was over the steady homeward flow began of those British civilians who had been their prisoners. Some were to pa.s.s through our area. Our work was tending to wind down and thinking mainly of the children one workshop was turned over to the manufacture of toys; these were fairly simple ones generally in wood and although we didn't have exactly a production line going we certainly made large quant.i.ties and lots of wheeled ducks were painted by me.

PAINTING THE DUCKS

The other main sights to see long before the creation of the Aswan Dam and Lake Na.s.ser were Luxor, Thebes and Karnak and together with Jock Grey I went to Cairo and booked up a trip at the YMCA. Our train companions were an American, Howard Sorrel and an ATS girl whose name now eludes me. We stayed at the Hotel de Famille in Luxor on an upper floor. In the afternoon, hearing an unusual sound of human voices we looked out of the window and saw a procession approaching at a jog trot; this was an Arab funeral and the women were wailing. The coffin was carried shoulder high by six or eight bearers who changed places frequently, it was open topped but covered with a green baize cloth and the occupant was having a rough ride, bouncing around in keeping with the jog trot.

Later we were given an extensive tour around the antiquities of Luxor and Karnak; then crossing the river by dhow and going overland by estate car we reached Thebes and The Valley of the Kings. There we toured several tombs including that of King Tutankhamen.

THE VISIT TO LUXOR, KARNAK AND THEBES. NOVEMBER 1945

A small boy approached us surrept.i.tiously and in return for a few piastres offered to show us a mummified head; this was strictly illegal of course but we paid and took some photographs. Our guide took us back to his house and showed us some of the antiques he had acquired; he gave us all mint tea and then brought out more modern items for sale. I bought two small alabaster vases, others bought mementoes also but one lad after asking the price of a particular object started to haggle not realising that in his own house the guide felt obliged to sell for the lower price. Seeing the look of consternation on his face we tumbled to his dilemma and made up the difference on later purchases.

Rummaging through the relics of those days I recently came across a letter that I had sent to my mother back in 1945 and amongst the scribble I found the corpse of the mosquito I had swatted in mid-blood-suck and sent home; there was still a red stain on the letter.

Life drifted on. Just before Christmas I had a cable from father telling me that mother had had surgery and was seriously ill; I applied for compa.s.sionate leave and travelled to Cairo for an interview in the Hotel Semiramis. The officer said that it could be arranged but since my demob was imminent I would probably get home quicker if I let things take their course. I did.

Before we were demobbed we had to undergo a medical examination to ensure that we couldn't make any post war claims for incapacity due to our service; at the same time we were asked what medals we were ent.i.tled to. I said that I didn't want any medals, being only too glad to be getting home again. We were never actually discharged from the army but placed on "Z reserve" and were instructed to report any change of address to the authorities. In January I was on the homeward stretch, first to Qa.s.sa.s.sin by lorry then by train to Alexandria. We a.s.sembled at the quayside; "Right, lads," said the sergeant, "pick up your monkeys and parrots and get fell in facing the boat." We wasted no time boarding the Colorado Springs Victory. She was American, a welded Liberty s.h.i.+p and naturally had an American crew. The sleeping arrangements were not hammocks like the British but were double decker steel framed beds The route taken was known as Medloc; we steamed across the Mediterranean between Italy and Sicily, pa.s.sing a smoking Stromboli as we headed for Toulon. Being an American s.h.i.+p we didn't have oatmeal for breakfast but were served what they called farina which many years later I discovered to be cream of wheat. The dock area of Toulon was a bit of a shambles, bomb damage everywhere and sunken s.h.i.+ps. On our way through the town we came across many roadside graves, bayoneted rifles stuck in the ground surmounted with the German helmets of those who didn't make it.

It was bitterly cold in Toulon and what was unusual for the south of France there was snow everywhere. Three of us filled in time by taking a walk to the east of the town and when we had had enough we hitched a lift back to camp. A French jeep came by with two French sailor types, they stopped for us and we jumped in the back only to find that it was already partially filled with four Chinese and one dead sheep. We headed quickly in the direction of Ma.r.s.eilles where I think they were going to board a s.h.i.+p and we were pa.s.sing our camp at high speed; thinking that we may be shanghaied we kicked up a rumpus and were dropped off a couple of hundred yards west of the entrance. Next day our train journey took us up through a snow covered France to Dieppe where more devastation was visible. One more night in a camp, then on to a ferry, The Maid of Orleans, to Newhaven. It was not a smooth trip, we were kept below deck and three hours later we emerged somewhat queasy but glad to be back in Britain.

We went by train to Aldershot but I have no recollection of the journey nor the name of the barracks to which we were sent, I was just happy to be so close to freedom again. Niggling thoughts about what I could expect when I got to Bristol worried me. I hadn't had any news since I had father's cable but there was nothing I could do. The morning after our arrival we were sent in groups by lorry to Woking to get fitted out with civilian clothes; we were allowed to keep our greatcoats, boots, socks, tropical s.h.i.+rts and shorts and then we were let loose in this large army clothing store. There was a huge selection to choose from and I collected a raglan-sleeved overcoat, a brown two-piece suit, a s.h.i.+rt, socks, a trilby hat and I believe some shoes, though I'm not certain about the shoes. Once I was outfitted I lost no time in collecting a travel warrant and caught the trains for Bristol, changing from the Southern Railway to the Great Western Railway at Ash.