At headquarters we met up with another twelve airmen who had prepared three trucks loaded with food, water and petrol. Our instructions were to make for Southern Java where we might possibly find a ship to take us away. The Dutch, we were told, were ready to capitulate under threat of bombing, possibly within forty eight hours. Without further delay we set off.
We had been travelling for about five hours over flat countryside passing a few banana plantations and rice fields when at about four o'clock in the afternoon a lookout spotted a plane coming towards us. Stopping, we dived for cover. It was a two seat light bomber with a gunner in the rear. It flew up and down above us twice without firing, he had most probably used all his bombs and ammunition on other escapees. As he flew off we dashed back into the trucks hoping to find cover before he or his pals came back to look for us.
Cover was found a few miles on. There was a banana plantation nearby. We pulled in among the trees and hastily cut banana trees down placing them in and around our vehicles. About half an hour later we heard planes approaching and dived under the trucks and lay listening to bullets pattering through the leaves. This continues for three passes, fortunately nothing caught fire, then they departed. We stayed undercover, had our evening meal and moved on after dark. The darkness cut our speed down but it was more relaxing than travelling in broad daylight.
By early morning the road became more of a climb and there was now a mountain range ahead of us. We stopped for a quick bite and a cup of tea, the general opinion being, we would have to continue our journey in daylight, as the mountain road had no barrier or curb and would be hazardous in the dark.
The Japanese aircraft were attacking the North and South of the Island so we were not troubled with any visits from them that day. We cleared the mountain, made our way down and headed for the south coast. At our evening stop we heard on the radio that the ships leaving ports were under fire from Japanese warships and the Dutch were going to surrender and set up roadblocks to stop movement of allied troops, we realised then that the chance of boarding a ship was very remote. It was agreed that we would turn inland at the next junction, find as remote a spot as possible and hopefully survive on our food until liberated. We didn't go much further that day.
Moving on the next day, we left the valleys of rice behind us and found ourselves in wooded scrub country with small kampongs dotted about with banana and coconut trees about them. By late afternoon we came upon an area completely covered by large trees and wide enough to drive the trucks off the road and under cover. There was a river nearby, the ground solid and well used which suggested this was possibly a watering hole for buffalo, goats etc of the local people.
Fires were lit for our evening meal, the usual tins of corned beef and tinned vegetables accompanied by hard biscuits. The smoke of one fire angered a swarm of hornets that had been hanging from an overhead branch around thirty feet above, unnoticed. Suddenly they swooped down and landed on one man, covering his head and entire back. It was impossible to beat them off, some shouted to him to jump in the river and as he ran, more hornets followed. He submerged himself completely, but the hornets still clung to him. Some of the men tried beating them off with towels but to no avail.
It must have been at least fifteen minutes before they suddenly flew off. Obviously the man was badly stung but we had nothing with which to treat him. Two of the chaps said when we were travelling on higher ground earlier in the day they had seen a military ambulance in the distance some miles ahead of us and thought it likely the driver had pulled in somewhere for the night. So one of the trucks set off with him and did manage to find the ambulance, but we heard later that he died the following day.
The memoirs of a Japanese prisoner of The Second World War 1942-1945. By Frank Planton.
Friday 17 December 2010
Friday 10 December 2010
3: Java, Batavia to Surabaya and back again - Part 2.
His father, a Dutchman by the name of Berg and married to a Javanese lady, explained to us that Singapore had fallen to the Japanese, therefore the currency that we had was useless. He then offered Bill and I a loan until we received our next pay, which we readily accepted and were able to repay the following day. He also loaned each of us a change of clothing and the use of his large tiled bathroom with bath and shower which was situated in the garden separate from the house. We were then invited to stay for the rest of the day and have dinner with the family. Mr Berg told us he was a linguist in local dialects and a broadcaster on radio.
On leaving that evening we were invited back the next day to dinner, also to collect our newly laundered tropical uniforms and underwear, in fact I went along two further evenings on an invitation from the daughter.
We were confined to the school in the following days usually being told we were free to go out in the afternoon, but on the fifth morning, I took a chance and popped along for a visit as there were rumours that we might be moving on. I returned to the school later in the day to find everyone had disappeared, and my haversack had been left in the corner of the room. I decided to try to find the whereabouts of another school where I knew other airmen had been billeted. Fortunately for me I was reunited with my old crowd there.
The following day we were moved from the school to a tea plantation in the hills to a place I believe was called Buitenzorg, where we spent five days resting.
Back at Batavia RAF Headquarters we, the operations room staff, were told to go to Surabaya to start a fighter control centre to demonstrate to Dutch personnel there, how to set up and operate. I collected a few more items of what kit was available, packed my kitbag and along with the rest of the crew, caught the night express to Surabaya.
We arrived in Surabaya early next morning and were met by Dutch army personnel, then transported to barracks where we went to bed to catch up on some sleep. There seemed no urgency in getting us to work. Each morning at eleven o'clock we were told 'Nothing doing today, you can go out if you wish', which we usually did. We were accommodated at the barracks, but apart from the Dutch.
Our meals were brought from outside by lorry in aluminium containers and consisted of rice, green vegetables, peppers and meat or fried rice with shrimps and fruit, which was not to our liking. We eventually complained and asked if we could have meat, vegetables and potatoes. The next day the officer in charge was given money to pay us so we could buy our own food. After that we used to eat out in bars and restaurants. Our evenings were spent in the bars, there was no shortage of cash as we were being paid every other day. The only person I met who seemed concerned about air raids was a civilian who operated the warning system. We used to meet up each night with some Americans who were flying out on patrol each day, and like us, were propping up the bars at night. They were operating three Catalina flying boats and kept us up to date with any news.
This went on for about nine days when our bubble burst. We went to our favourite bar that night, the Americans were there and greeted us saying we were just in time as they were leaving for Australia. They told us there was an invasion force about two days away with nothing to stop them, as the Dutch were not preparing any defence. They told the group of us they had room to take us with them and invited us along. We thanked them for the offer saying we had no orders to leave, it would therefore be desertion if we went. We said goodbye and returned to our barracks. At eleven o'clock two hours after the Americans had left, our C.O. came in and told us to pack, we were to return to Batavia on the night express. We hastily packed, had a count up and found six men still out. Jumping into a truck we rode round the streets shouting their names outside the bars and managed to round them all up except for two. Eventually we returned to the barracks, as time was running out, and found the missing two had returned and prepared for bed. They grabbed their clothes and boarded the train wearing just their pyjamas. We duly arrived back in Batavia next morning.
On leaving that evening we were invited back the next day to dinner, also to collect our newly laundered tropical uniforms and underwear, in fact I went along two further evenings on an invitation from the daughter.
We were confined to the school in the following days usually being told we were free to go out in the afternoon, but on the fifth morning, I took a chance and popped along for a visit as there were rumours that we might be moving on. I returned to the school later in the day to find everyone had disappeared, and my haversack had been left in the corner of the room. I decided to try to find the whereabouts of another school where I knew other airmen had been billeted. Fortunately for me I was reunited with my old crowd there.
The following day we were moved from the school to a tea plantation in the hills to a place I believe was called Buitenzorg, where we spent five days resting.
Back at Batavia RAF Headquarters we, the operations room staff, were told to go to Surabaya to start a fighter control centre to demonstrate to Dutch personnel there, how to set up and operate. I collected a few more items of what kit was available, packed my kitbag and along with the rest of the crew, caught the night express to Surabaya.
We arrived in Surabaya early next morning and were met by Dutch army personnel, then transported to barracks where we went to bed to catch up on some sleep. There seemed no urgency in getting us to work. Each morning at eleven o'clock we were told 'Nothing doing today, you can go out if you wish', which we usually did. We were accommodated at the barracks, but apart from the Dutch.
Our meals were brought from outside by lorry in aluminium containers and consisted of rice, green vegetables, peppers and meat or fried rice with shrimps and fruit, which was not to our liking. We eventually complained and asked if we could have meat, vegetables and potatoes. The next day the officer in charge was given money to pay us so we could buy our own food. After that we used to eat out in bars and restaurants. Our evenings were spent in the bars, there was no shortage of cash as we were being paid every other day. The only person I met who seemed concerned about air raids was a civilian who operated the warning system. We used to meet up each night with some Americans who were flying out on patrol each day, and like us, were propping up the bars at night. They were operating three Catalina flying boats and kept us up to date with any news.
This went on for about nine days when our bubble burst. We went to our favourite bar that night, the Americans were there and greeted us saying we were just in time as they were leaving for Australia. They told us there was an invasion force about two days away with nothing to stop them, as the Dutch were not preparing any defence. They told the group of us they had room to take us with them and invited us along. We thanked them for the offer saying we had no orders to leave, it would therefore be desertion if we went. We said goodbye and returned to our barracks. At eleven o'clock two hours after the Americans had left, our C.O. came in and told us to pack, we were to return to Batavia on the night express. We hastily packed, had a count up and found six men still out. Jumping into a truck we rode round the streets shouting their names outside the bars and managed to round them all up except for two. Eventually we returned to the barracks, as time was running out, and found the missing two had returned and prepared for bed. They grabbed their clothes and boarded the train wearing just their pyjamas. We duly arrived back in Batavia next morning.
Friday 3 December 2010
3: Java, Batavia to Surabaya and back again - Part 1.
We reached Java after about three days with no further hindrance or sight of the enemy. As we steamed into the dock the crew of the cruiser 'HMS Durban', which was already moored up, cheered 'HMS Kedah' wildly, waving their arms and hats in the air, a fitting tribute to the marvellous seamanship and skill of its Captain.
We were detained on board for a time whilst a discussion took place as to whether we should continue our journey and sail for Australia. Eventually we were told to disembark. We boarded trucks and were taken to a school in Batavia where Javanese workmen were making beds for our use. These they were making entirely of bamboo, the slats, post and binding, all cut from seven foot lengths with machetes.
When given my bed, I laid on it and found it surprisingly comfortable, especially after the last few nights spent sleeping on the ship's iron decks. The bamboo being green, was very pliable.
As mentioned previously, I had very little kit with me and what I did have contained no toiletries whatsoever. I was too aware of my unkempt appearance and filthy clothes. Food arrived, rice with meat and green beans, unusual but I was starving. That disposed of, I then sought out my mate Bill. I suggested that we took a walk and try to find some shops where we could purchase some soap and razors for starters.
The temperature was high and felt humid. The streets were lined with trees which provided some shade as we walked. We could find no shops and the few people we encountered spoke no English, so we were unable to make ourselves understood.
After a while we stopped and after some discussion, decided to try walking in another direction, when suddenly I spotted a Javanese with a tray slung with straps from his shoulder. We approached him and saw he had a display of various toiletries laid out on his tray. I picked up razor blades and soap and offered some straits dollars in payment. These he refused and showed me Dutch gilders. Watching the proceedings was a young white lad of about thirteen or fourteen years of age. He walked over to us and asked in English if we were having problems. I explained our predicament, he then offered to take our money to a bank and get it changed for us, to which we agreed. We hung about for more than an hour waiting for his return and were about to give up thinking that was the last we would see of him or our money, when he arrived in a taxi.
He then told us to get into the taxi and that we were going to his house to see his father. After about a ten minute ride we arrived at a large house set in its own grounds on the outskirts of the town.
We were detained on board for a time whilst a discussion took place as to whether we should continue our journey and sail for Australia. Eventually we were told to disembark. We boarded trucks and were taken to a school in Batavia where Javanese workmen were making beds for our use. These they were making entirely of bamboo, the slats, post and binding, all cut from seven foot lengths with machetes.
When given my bed, I laid on it and found it surprisingly comfortable, especially after the last few nights spent sleeping on the ship's iron decks. The bamboo being green, was very pliable.
As mentioned previously, I had very little kit with me and what I did have contained no toiletries whatsoever. I was too aware of my unkempt appearance and filthy clothes. Food arrived, rice with meat and green beans, unusual but I was starving. That disposed of, I then sought out my mate Bill. I suggested that we took a walk and try to find some shops where we could purchase some soap and razors for starters.
The temperature was high and felt humid. The streets were lined with trees which provided some shade as we walked. We could find no shops and the few people we encountered spoke no English, so we were unable to make ourselves understood.
After a while we stopped and after some discussion, decided to try walking in another direction, when suddenly I spotted a Javanese with a tray slung with straps from his shoulder. We approached him and saw he had a display of various toiletries laid out on his tray. I picked up razor blades and soap and offered some straits dollars in payment. These he refused and showed me Dutch gilders. Watching the proceedings was a young white lad of about thirteen or fourteen years of age. He walked over to us and asked in English if we were having problems. I explained our predicament, he then offered to take our money to a bank and get it changed for us, to which we agreed. We hung about for more than an hour waiting for his return and were about to give up thinking that was the last we would see of him or our money, when he arrived in a taxi.
He then told us to get into the taxi and that we were going to his house to see his father. After about a ten minute ride we arrived at a large house set in its own grounds on the outskirts of the town.
Friday 26 November 2010
2: Air Attack at Sea - Part 2.
It was now three and a half hours since the first air raid had begun and Singapore was well behind us. We kept watch and waited, prepared for another attack, wondering if the Jap's would give up, leaving us still afloat. Our answer came soon enough, as another alarm sounded. We had obviously moved out of range of the previous aircraft as now, high in the sky was a formation of large twin engine bombers.
Now, after the noise and commotion of the low level flying and the continuous firing of the smaller guns, it seemed uncannily quiet, only the larger guns went into action and were firing at what seem longer intervals, there were only two on our ship that could reach the altitude required. The planes were keeping high and continued flying towards us with no apparent damage to them from our gunfire. As I watched I saw some bombs glint in the sun as they left the aircraft and as they whistled through the air, it looked as if they might hit us.
There was silence on board except for the guns which kept up their fire, then, as the sailor and I stood gazing up, we heard course alterations being shouted out from the deck above, the ship immediately heeled over onto a new direction as four bombs crashed into the sea where we would have been.
The ship felt and sounded as if a giant had hit us with a very large hammer, there were four rapid blows as large geysers of water with bright orange centres went skyward.
I wondered how much of this can a ship take before the riveted steel plates sprang and began to leak water. My sailor friend was quite happy, he had been through it all before and had great confidence in his Captain who, he explained was lying on the above deck keeping watch on the planes through binoculars, waiting for the bombs to leave the aircraft, deciding where they were likely to fall, then taking what evasive action was necessary. He was quite rightly, proud of his Captain, also, regarding the closeness of the bombs, the ship's hull could stand plenty of that treatment. There might be some joints that leak steam and light bulbs may be broken in the engine room where most of the damage would occur.
The raid continued with the aircraft using their bomb singularly. They had no doubt observed our Captain's actions, as with the next attack, as one plane dropped his bombs, the ship changed course, turning to the right, another plane dropped his bombs into the area we were turning into. Our Captain had no choice but to turn back in the hope we would be between the two sticks of bombs. Those to the left of us exploded first only yards away. The noise was deafening as the ship seem to stop dead before plunging on into the next concussing noise of the bombs to our right. This time there was damage in the engine room with burst pipes, but the ship still moved forward and we were all alive.
It was almost 1:00 p.m. when the last planes departed. We had endured and survived four and a half hours of attacks.
The 'Empire Star' had been hit twice and suffered casualties as had the cruiser 'Durban'. We maintained our position at the rear as we continued on our way and now at half speed due to the damage inflicted on the ship during the bombing. The rest of the convoy gradually sailed out of sight as we gradually made our way to Batavia, now know as Jakarta on the Island of Java.
Now, after the noise and commotion of the low level flying and the continuous firing of the smaller guns, it seemed uncannily quiet, only the larger guns went into action and were firing at what seem longer intervals, there were only two on our ship that could reach the altitude required. The planes were keeping high and continued flying towards us with no apparent damage to them from our gunfire. As I watched I saw some bombs glint in the sun as they left the aircraft and as they whistled through the air, it looked as if they might hit us.
There was silence on board except for the guns which kept up their fire, then, as the sailor and I stood gazing up, we heard course alterations being shouted out from the deck above, the ship immediately heeled over onto a new direction as four bombs crashed into the sea where we would have been.
The ship felt and sounded as if a giant had hit us with a very large hammer, there were four rapid blows as large geysers of water with bright orange centres went skyward.
I wondered how much of this can a ship take before the riveted steel plates sprang and began to leak water. My sailor friend was quite happy, he had been through it all before and had great confidence in his Captain who, he explained was lying on the above deck keeping watch on the planes through binoculars, waiting for the bombs to leave the aircraft, deciding where they were likely to fall, then taking what evasive action was necessary. He was quite rightly, proud of his Captain, also, regarding the closeness of the bombs, the ship's hull could stand plenty of that treatment. There might be some joints that leak steam and light bulbs may be broken in the engine room where most of the damage would occur.
The raid continued with the aircraft using their bomb singularly. They had no doubt observed our Captain's actions, as with the next attack, as one plane dropped his bombs, the ship changed course, turning to the right, another plane dropped his bombs into the area we were turning into. Our Captain had no choice but to turn back in the hope we would be between the two sticks of bombs. Those to the left of us exploded first only yards away. The noise was deafening as the ship seem to stop dead before plunging on into the next concussing noise of the bombs to our right. This time there was damage in the engine room with burst pipes, but the ship still moved forward and we were all alive.
It was almost 1:00 p.m. when the last planes departed. We had endured and survived four and a half hours of attacks.
The 'Empire Star' had been hit twice and suffered casualties as had the cruiser 'Durban'. We maintained our position at the rear as we continued on our way and now at half speed due to the damage inflicted on the ship during the bombing. The rest of the convoy gradually sailed out of sight as we gradually made our way to Batavia, now know as Jakarta on the Island of Java.
Friday 19 November 2010
2: Air Attack at Sea - Part 1.
We made very little progress and eventually stopped. Mines had been laid and it was too risky to proceed in darkness. We spent the night chatting and wandering about the blacked out desk, occasionally trying to rest.
Daylight came and we continued our journey, picking our way through the minefields. We had just eaten a makeshift breakfast when the ship's alarm sounded. The Captain spoke over the loudspeaker system asking his airmen passengers to be helpful and try making themselves useful in the forthcoming action, or get below decks out of the way as we would be under air attack within the next few minutes. I decided to try to be helpful and walked over to a sailor I had noticed standing by a Lewis gun mounted at the ship's side. At his feed were several loaded drums of ammunition. He was busily scanning the horizons as I asked him, "Would you like me to load for you?", "I would be very pleased", was his immediate reply. It was a glorious day, a brilliant morning sun in a cloudless sky, the time was around 8:30 a.m.
We recently caught up with two merchant ships that had left Singapore the day before us. One of them was crowded with airmen and had aircraft refuelling tankers on deck. I recall seeing the name 'Empire Star' on its stern. Our ship heeled over as it went into open sea behind these two ships, the cruiser 'HMS Durban' which had been alongside, sailed to the front.
It was agreed that I kept a look out for enemy aircraft to the left whilst the sailor I was assisting searched the sky to the right. Suddenly there was a shout of "There's one" from him, I turned and saw a plane coming towards us at about fifty feed above sea level, with flashes coming from a single gun on each wing as the plane rushed towards us. The sailor open up with his gun as the plan seemed to be making a direct line for us, emptying one drum which I immediately changed, the plan passed over with a roar.
The noise was now deafening, shell bursts everywhere, bombs exploding in the sea around us and aircraft attacking from all directions.
The ship was vibrating and sailing at maximum speed as we changed direction frequently to try to evade our attackers, a trail of black smoke marking our course. As suddenly as the attack had started, so it ended with no apparent damage being done.
My sailor companion and I discussed the attack, he telling me he was happy to be in the navy and on a ship as it was maneuverable whilst under attack. I told him I preferred to be on land as I couldn't walk on water and an airfield didn't sink.
Lookouts were scanning the sky as we waited for the next attack. The other ships were all steaming on as if undamaged. It didn't seem likely we would be left to continue out journey unhindered. There obviously wasn't another squadron waiting to move in to carry on the attack, so I pondered how far the planes had to go to bomb up and refuel.
The alarm sounded again, then we heard the aircraft engines and saw shell bursts high in the sky. Around the shell bursts were the planes and as I watched, some of the aircraft started to dive. We resumed our erratic course and as the aircraft came within range the multiple pom poms from the deck above filled the path of the dive bomber with exploding shells. The tactics were a success, the bomb missed us, falling into the sea. The aircraft, their bombs gone, resorted to low level attacks with cannon fire and machine gun, before flying off.
I began to see the sailors point of view as we seems unscathed apart from small dents and chipped paintwork. Buckets of tea began to appear, which was a welcome sight. The tension eased as we took a break and enjoyed a cup of tea.
Daylight came and we continued our journey, picking our way through the minefields. We had just eaten a makeshift breakfast when the ship's alarm sounded. The Captain spoke over the loudspeaker system asking his airmen passengers to be helpful and try making themselves useful in the forthcoming action, or get below decks out of the way as we would be under air attack within the next few minutes. I decided to try to be helpful and walked over to a sailor I had noticed standing by a Lewis gun mounted at the ship's side. At his feed were several loaded drums of ammunition. He was busily scanning the horizons as I asked him, "Would you like me to load for you?", "I would be very pleased", was his immediate reply. It was a glorious day, a brilliant morning sun in a cloudless sky, the time was around 8:30 a.m.
We recently caught up with two merchant ships that had left Singapore the day before us. One of them was crowded with airmen and had aircraft refuelling tankers on deck. I recall seeing the name 'Empire Star' on its stern. Our ship heeled over as it went into open sea behind these two ships, the cruiser 'HMS Durban' which had been alongside, sailed to the front.
It was agreed that I kept a look out for enemy aircraft to the left whilst the sailor I was assisting searched the sky to the right. Suddenly there was a shout of "There's one" from him, I turned and saw a plane coming towards us at about fifty feed above sea level, with flashes coming from a single gun on each wing as the plane rushed towards us. The sailor open up with his gun as the plan seemed to be making a direct line for us, emptying one drum which I immediately changed, the plan passed over with a roar.
The noise was now deafening, shell bursts everywhere, bombs exploding in the sea around us and aircraft attacking from all directions.
The ship was vibrating and sailing at maximum speed as we changed direction frequently to try to evade our attackers, a trail of black smoke marking our course. As suddenly as the attack had started, so it ended with no apparent damage being done.
My sailor companion and I discussed the attack, he telling me he was happy to be in the navy and on a ship as it was maneuverable whilst under attack. I told him I preferred to be on land as I couldn't walk on water and an airfield didn't sink.
Lookouts were scanning the sky as we waited for the next attack. The other ships were all steaming on as if undamaged. It didn't seem likely we would be left to continue out journey unhindered. There obviously wasn't another squadron waiting to move in to carry on the attack, so I pondered how far the planes had to go to bomb up and refuel.
The alarm sounded again, then we heard the aircraft engines and saw shell bursts high in the sky. Around the shell bursts were the planes and as I watched, some of the aircraft started to dive. We resumed our erratic course and as the aircraft came within range the multiple pom poms from the deck above filled the path of the dive bomber with exploding shells. The tactics were a success, the bomb missed us, falling into the sea. The aircraft, their bombs gone, resorted to low level attacks with cannon fire and machine gun, before flying off.
I began to see the sailors point of view as we seems unscathed apart from small dents and chipped paintwork. Buckets of tea began to appear, which was a welcome sight. The tension eased as we took a break and enjoyed a cup of tea.
Friday 12 November 2010
1: Evacuation, Singapore to Java
The situation was pretty grim as most of the island was in Japanese hands. I was working in the Operations room of 224 Group Fighter Control.
It was the morning of the 12th and another unpleasant few minutes at work was ahead. The controller got the news that three aircraft had just passed the eastern side of Singapore and were now coming along the south beach towards us.
'Find your tin hats and when I give the order, get under the table'. Then it came. They roared overhead at low level, I thought someone had given our activity away, then quick as they arrived they were gone. 'Back to normal', said the controller.
There was no talk of being taken prisoner, we just carried on. We knew fighting was going on at Singapore as Army ambulances were going along East Coast Road filled with wounded soldiers.
Had breakfast and walked to work with just water bottle, mug, knife, fork and spoon in a side haversack, for eating lunch. Around 11am we were told to destroy all our equipment and then go outside for transport to the docks. What about our kit? Told, not much of Singapore in our troops possession, go and see if you can get on a ship.
We were then transported to the docks where some warehouses had been set alight and others bomb damaged, as shelling was going on nearby. The quayside was covered in black oil and littered with hoses where ships had bunkered and left in a hurry. There were many airmen waiting on the quay and a few more truck loads followed after us - approximately three hundred men gathered, but not a ship in sight.
It was late afternoon when a small river boat, HMS Li Wo, manned by Royal Navy personnel tied up at the quay in search of coal. I approached a young naval officer who had come ashore and asked if he would be taking us on board. He said he was on his way to a nearby R.N. office to get further orders. He requested for us to assist with the coaling up of his boat and said we would be going along with them if nothing else was coming. Later, he returned to inform us that two ships would be collecting everyone that night. When they left on the 13th February, we felt isolated. Time seemed to drag very slowly.
After a while I decided to have a saunter and walked over to a bomb damaged warehouse that was no alight. Inside was stacked with cases of Plymouth Gin. I opened a bottle and took a swig, my first taste ever of gin, which I thought tasted pretty disgusting, needless to say, I've changed my opinion since then. I picked up half a dozen bottles to take over to the chaps thinking someone must have a taste for it. The first couple I offered it to turned it down when an officer who had obviously been watching approached and asked if he could have some. I told him he was welcome and gave him the lot remarking, there was a warehouse full over the way if he needed more. I decided to take another stroll and entered another warehouse. The one was stacked with cases of condensed milk, something of which I was fond of. I managed to open a tin with my jack knife and drank the lot, that tasted far better than gin and more to my liking. I was feeling very hungry, as I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
Towards evening a flight of Japanese bombers flew over but didn't drop anything. We assumed it was because there were no ships in harbour to be bombed and secondly, they had no wish to damaged the quay as they themselves would shortly have use of it. Darkness eventually came but the shelling continued and the fighting was getting closer.
Time hung heavily until at 2.00 a.m. two ships glided in out of the darkness, lit only by the flames of the still burning warehouses. The total silence of their arrival was amazing, they were well within our sight before any sound could be heard, needless to say, a very welcome sight. A Chief Petty Officer appeared at the side of the ship saying loud enough for us to hear 'lively lads', we needed no encouragement, the ship represented freedom.
We embarked in complete silence, each man boarding the ship nearest him, the one I boarded was an armed merchantman named HMS Kedah, the other a cruiser HMS Durban. We stood on deck silently watching the shell fire and flames recede as we slid out of the harbour leaving Singapore behind us.
It was the morning of the 12th and another unpleasant few minutes at work was ahead. The controller got the news that three aircraft had just passed the eastern side of Singapore and were now coming along the south beach towards us.
'Find your tin hats and when I give the order, get under the table'. Then it came. They roared overhead at low level, I thought someone had given our activity away, then quick as they arrived they were gone. 'Back to normal', said the controller.
There was no talk of being taken prisoner, we just carried on. We knew fighting was going on at Singapore as Army ambulances were going along East Coast Road filled with wounded soldiers.
Had breakfast and walked to work with just water bottle, mug, knife, fork and spoon in a side haversack, for eating lunch. Around 11am we were told to destroy all our equipment and then go outside for transport to the docks. What about our kit? Told, not much of Singapore in our troops possession, go and see if you can get on a ship.
We were then transported to the docks where some warehouses had been set alight and others bomb damaged, as shelling was going on nearby. The quayside was covered in black oil and littered with hoses where ships had bunkered and left in a hurry. There were many airmen waiting on the quay and a few more truck loads followed after us - approximately three hundred men gathered, but not a ship in sight.
It was late afternoon when a small river boat, HMS Li Wo, manned by Royal Navy personnel tied up at the quay in search of coal. I approached a young naval officer who had come ashore and asked if he would be taking us on board. He said he was on his way to a nearby R.N. office to get further orders. He requested for us to assist with the coaling up of his boat and said we would be going along with them if nothing else was coming. Later, he returned to inform us that two ships would be collecting everyone that night. When they left on the 13th February, we felt isolated. Time seemed to drag very slowly.
After a while I decided to have a saunter and walked over to a bomb damaged warehouse that was no alight. Inside was stacked with cases of Plymouth Gin. I opened a bottle and took a swig, my first taste ever of gin, which I thought tasted pretty disgusting, needless to say, I've changed my opinion since then. I picked up half a dozen bottles to take over to the chaps thinking someone must have a taste for it. The first couple I offered it to turned it down when an officer who had obviously been watching approached and asked if he could have some. I told him he was welcome and gave him the lot remarking, there was a warehouse full over the way if he needed more. I decided to take another stroll and entered another warehouse. The one was stacked with cases of condensed milk, something of which I was fond of. I managed to open a tin with my jack knife and drank the lot, that tasted far better than gin and more to my liking. I was feeling very hungry, as I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
Towards evening a flight of Japanese bombers flew over but didn't drop anything. We assumed it was because there were no ships in harbour to be bombed and secondly, they had no wish to damaged the quay as they themselves would shortly have use of it. Darkness eventually came but the shelling continued and the fighting was getting closer.
Time hung heavily until at 2.00 a.m. two ships glided in out of the darkness, lit only by the flames of the still burning warehouses. The total silence of their arrival was amazing, they were well within our sight before any sound could be heard, needless to say, a very welcome sight. A Chief Petty Officer appeared at the side of the ship saying loud enough for us to hear 'lively lads', we needed no encouragement, the ship represented freedom.
We embarked in complete silence, each man boarding the ship nearest him, the one I boarded was an armed merchantman named HMS Kedah, the other a cruiser HMS Durban. We stood on deck silently watching the shell fire and flames recede as we slid out of the harbour leaving Singapore behind us.
Friday 5 November 2010
Introduction - Part 8.
The next day we were taken to Kuala Lumpur railway station, the group of us that had been working together, put in our own carriage on our way to Singapore. The journey was very slow, sometimes we stopped, but it was uneventful, I would not have liked to be attached by aircraft and was pleased to get off the train at Singapore.
Most of the air raids had been on the RAF stations in Singapore, not much damage elsewhere, troopships had been sunk in the harbour by bombers, so men had been landed with their guns and rifles lost, the worst thing to happen once again the Japanese knew the time to come.
Taken to a transit camp where we enjoyed a good meal and a clean up in our barracks. On parade next morning at 9am, we were told that we could have the day off as we’d been having a rough time lately and could also go to Singapore, transport of which would be available.
We looked around the shops, had a meal, then our first experience of an air-conditioned cinema and froze in there. Was like walking into an oven when we came out and our transport was waiting at 4pm for our return. We’d seen enough anyway and did feel like a good nights sleep.
Next morning on parade an officer had a list of work placements. Bill and I were taken to collect our kit and off to the figher operations building. This was a very large bungalow on the sands of the south shore and very exposed being all alone. In the main room was a large table with a map of Malaya, Singapore, Sumatra and some islands.
The RAF station we were at now was Kallang on the south of Singapore, which was attacked regularly by the Japanese aircraft, so we were to live and work away from the airfield, only going there for meals. Lunch was normally the only chance attack took place, early breakfast and late dinner was peaceful.
The workings of the job, symbols and information were explained to us and informed that we would also be sounding Singapore’s air raid warnings. New observation posts had been set up in Sumatra and I was to be in contact with them. Information was not long in coming, a flight of aircraft flying over Sumatra making their way to attack our troops fighting near Singapore and none of our aircraft were available to help, but at least the troops were warned.
At the end of the working day we were taken to the house in East Coast Road, that was to be our home. A very grand house with a massive entrance hall and matching staircase each side joining the top floor with our bedrooms upstairs.
All of us were youngsters with mostly the same likes and dislikes and used to stay up late listening to big band music from the UK on our large radio. A very pleasant atmosphere was spoilt one night when five drunken Australian soldiers came through the front door demanding whiskey. We asked if they would like a coffee, which resulted in one pulling out a revolver and firing a shot into the ceiling. I looked for the most sober one, telling him we did not have any alcoholic drinks at all, were not allowed in town, and at last managed to get rid of them. We decided to lock the door from now on.
Most of the air raids had been on the RAF stations in Singapore, not much damage elsewhere, troopships had been sunk in the harbour by bombers, so men had been landed with their guns and rifles lost, the worst thing to happen once again the Japanese knew the time to come.
Taken to a transit camp where we enjoyed a good meal and a clean up in our barracks. On parade next morning at 9am, we were told that we could have the day off as we’d been having a rough time lately and could also go to Singapore, transport of which would be available.
We looked around the shops, had a meal, then our first experience of an air-conditioned cinema and froze in there. Was like walking into an oven when we came out and our transport was waiting at 4pm for our return. We’d seen enough anyway and did feel like a good nights sleep.
Next morning on parade an officer had a list of work placements. Bill and I were taken to collect our kit and off to the figher operations building. This was a very large bungalow on the sands of the south shore and very exposed being all alone. In the main room was a large table with a map of Malaya, Singapore, Sumatra and some islands.
The RAF station we were at now was Kallang on the south of Singapore, which was attacked regularly by the Japanese aircraft, so we were to live and work away from the airfield, only going there for meals. Lunch was normally the only chance attack took place, early breakfast and late dinner was peaceful.
The workings of the job, symbols and information were explained to us and informed that we would also be sounding Singapore’s air raid warnings. New observation posts had been set up in Sumatra and I was to be in contact with them. Information was not long in coming, a flight of aircraft flying over Sumatra making their way to attack our troops fighting near Singapore and none of our aircraft were available to help, but at least the troops were warned.
At the end of the working day we were taken to the house in East Coast Road, that was to be our home. A very grand house with a massive entrance hall and matching staircase each side joining the top floor with our bedrooms upstairs.
All of us were youngsters with mostly the same likes and dislikes and used to stay up late listening to big band music from the UK on our large radio. A very pleasant atmosphere was spoilt one night when five drunken Australian soldiers came through the front door demanding whiskey. We asked if they would like a coffee, which resulted in one pulling out a revolver and firing a shot into the ceiling. I looked for the most sober one, telling him we did not have any alcoholic drinks at all, were not allowed in town, and at last managed to get rid of them. We decided to lock the door from now on.
Friday 29 October 2010
Introduction - Part 7.
Christmas day came and for lunch we had a large tin of tongue and biscuits, talking amongst ourselves as we sat under the bungalow said we would not forget this Christmas. A chicken walked around our feet pecking here and there, could have had it for our dinner if we had know how to kill it properly, then again perhaps not, with the cleaning out and plucking the features, after work we wanted to relax.
The constant air attacks slowed the loading, bullets in metal boxes were very heavy as well. At last we finished and when the transport was unloaded we were leaving. Shortly after the train was loaded it was bombed and destroyed along with the station and surrounding area, so we suspected there must have been spies everywhere.
Our next move was to Sungai Besi, an RAF station a few miles from Kuala Lumpur, hut accommodation in a rubber plantation completely hidden by the rubber trees. It was a fighter station and still had some Brester Buffalo fighter flying, so it was the same again.
We were told to rest, we were fairly safe, the fighters did fly over shooting into the trees, but saw nothing and no fires started. There was very little warning again before the fighters arrived, the aircraft were getting destroyed on the ground or as they took off to attack.
The cook house was hidden and we had good meals, was not bad there, just had to lay flat on the ground when the fighters came, no bombs were used as the Japanese wanted this airfield in working order.
Stretching our legs one day, Bill and I went for a walk in the plantation to see how big it was when we heard firing and dived flat. We waited a while, then got up and walked on. We’d walked a long way before we saw light at the side of the trees and coming out, we saw it was a cemetery with large headstone and figures, not for the ordinary people here, but amongst the gravestones was the smouldering remains of a Buffalo fighter, shot down I suppose as he tried to clear the airfield. Just odd bits of the aircraft were still alight, most of the metal had melted and only bits of the iron survived, so it was mostly ashes and must have burnt out in a minutes fully loaded with petrol. The pilots burnt body had shrunk in size and his tightly packed parachute was smouldering behind him. I got a stick and moved it away from the body in doing so it came apart like pages from a book. I was pleased to see in the unburnt white silk it was soaked in blood and the pilot was probably dead before he hit the ground.
Our rest came to a halt when we were told work tonight. At darkness we departed camp, six trucks and men, spares from the dockside we were told, Port Sweetenham. Our vehicle pulled up close to a bungalow, no more light than necessary we were told.
The Japs had tried a landing from the sea during the day but were beaten off, it was possible some were about and we did hear shots during the night.
Our bungalows were stacked from floor to ceiling with oblong four gallon petrol tins, get loaded and go, was the order. We worked a system where we did not bump into each other in the dark and finished before dawn.
Same again the next day, finished about the same time and our departure was a little quicker but the Japanese must have decided on a dawn attack. The shooting started and increased rapidly, as it was dark there was no aircraft, lucky there, and as we pulled away the bungalow was destroyed in a huge fiery explosion, no point leaving that for the Japanese.
The constant air attacks slowed the loading, bullets in metal boxes were very heavy as well. At last we finished and when the transport was unloaded we were leaving. Shortly after the train was loaded it was bombed and destroyed along with the station and surrounding area, so we suspected there must have been spies everywhere.
Our next move was to Sungai Besi, an RAF station a few miles from Kuala Lumpur, hut accommodation in a rubber plantation completely hidden by the rubber trees. It was a fighter station and still had some Brester Buffalo fighter flying, so it was the same again.
We were told to rest, we were fairly safe, the fighters did fly over shooting into the trees, but saw nothing and no fires started. There was very little warning again before the fighters arrived, the aircraft were getting destroyed on the ground or as they took off to attack.
The cook house was hidden and we had good meals, was not bad there, just had to lay flat on the ground when the fighters came, no bombs were used as the Japanese wanted this airfield in working order.
Stretching our legs one day, Bill and I went for a walk in the plantation to see how big it was when we heard firing and dived flat. We waited a while, then got up and walked on. We’d walked a long way before we saw light at the side of the trees and coming out, we saw it was a cemetery with large headstone and figures, not for the ordinary people here, but amongst the gravestones was the smouldering remains of a Buffalo fighter, shot down I suppose as he tried to clear the airfield. Just odd bits of the aircraft were still alight, most of the metal had melted and only bits of the iron survived, so it was mostly ashes and must have burnt out in a minutes fully loaded with petrol. The pilots burnt body had shrunk in size and his tightly packed parachute was smouldering behind him. I got a stick and moved it away from the body in doing so it came apart like pages from a book. I was pleased to see in the unburnt white silk it was soaked in blood and the pilot was probably dead before he hit the ground.
Our rest came to a halt when we were told work tonight. At darkness we departed camp, six trucks and men, spares from the dockside we were told, Port Sweetenham. Our vehicle pulled up close to a bungalow, no more light than necessary we were told.
The Japs had tried a landing from the sea during the day but were beaten off, it was possible some were about and we did hear shots during the night.
Our bungalows were stacked from floor to ceiling with oblong four gallon petrol tins, get loaded and go, was the order. We worked a system where we did not bump into each other in the dark and finished before dawn.
Same again the next day, finished about the same time and our departure was a little quicker but the Japanese must have decided on a dawn attack. The shooting started and increased rapidly, as it was dark there was no aircraft, lucky there, and as we pulled away the bungalow was destroyed in a huge fiery explosion, no point leaving that for the Japanese.
Friday 22 October 2010
Introduction - Part 6.
Sending a telegraph home was possible, there was a wooden hut on the roadside near the camp, inside was an operator of a morse set, you filled in a telegraph form, he would transmit the morse message, paid and that was it. Life carried on just as it had when I first arrived until mid November, a vapour trail was seen once a day, not one of our aircraft. A few days later three Brewster Buffalo fighters arrived, they did not stay long before they flew away, if they had come to intercept what was flying over there was not much chance of that with another out of date aircraft. General Wavell who was in charge of Far East forces flew in one day in his Dakota aircraft, there was talk that if war broke out we would move into Thailand, but reports came that Japan was doing that already, we were only 24kms from the border with Thailand, Siam as it then was. The guessing and thinking ended on December the 8th, we were being attacked by Japanese forces. Our aircraft took off at 1am to attack Japanese forces in Thailand, they returned around 11am, at that time Bill and I looked up at aircraft noise, there was this large formation of 27 bombers flying our way, no sirens, must be ours, then the sirens went. It was a brilliant sunny day, looking up we could see the bombs glinting in the sun as they were released. Bill and I ran for the nearest hut with a blast wall round it and laid flat. Two Indian workers followed us, they were stuffing their clothing in their mouths and whimpering, as this wasn’t their war, then shrapnel tore into the shed above the blast wall, watching the amount of bombs from one aircraft we knew they were anti-personnel and large enough explosive ones to do the damage they required.
Only three of our aircraft were not destroyed, they flew off to Butterworth airfield. Our living accommodation was untouched as they were away from the hangars and runway. The fuel storage tanks were alight, widespread damage to stores, cookhouse and dining hall, there was no future for this station with no aircraft and no defenses.
Spies must be around the aircraft to arrive just after our aircraft had returned. Bill and I went to the dining hall, broken plates everywhere, the cook in charge said tinned food from now on, we cleaned a few tables but not a lot of diners turned up, most took their food back to the huts.
All native staff were gone, none returned the following day. The airmen were trying to sort out and salvage at their work places what they cold. We did get a visit from a single Japanese aircraft, no bombs dropped.
The East Surrey soldiers were having a fierce battle with the Japanese at Jitra. On the third day around 11am we were told to get our it and return to transport pick up area, Indian troops were taking up defensive positions to stop the Japanese, the camp was flat everywhere with no defences or trenches they had an impossible job, no aircraft, no guns, only rifles. Our transport arrived and we had to stand to take away as many as possible, no kit, if the airfield was in our troops hands, the vehicles would return to collect it, we were off to Butterworth.
The same conditions as before were at Butterworth, told to dig ourselves a trench outside our small 2 bed cabin near the beach where in better times you could spend 7 days leave here, sandy beaches, coconut palms, good food, nothing to do, music was played all day, what a change now.
The fighting was not going well for our troops, any resistance the Japanese took boats and landed behind the fighting, no British aircraft to help them was key to the Japanese success, there was no way to stop the Japanese advance. Two days later we set off again from Butterworth to an Army camp in the Cameroon Highlands, it had sparse buildings made of cement, outside taps, very basic, to us it looked more suitable for keeping domestic animals, pigs, goats etc, it rained regularly around 3pm, no wonder vegetables grew well in hot, humid, wet climate.
60 or so Gurkhas were also living here. Five days so called rest and we were off again, must say it was a relief to get away from the never ending sweaty humidity, we were told our destination was the RAF station, Ipoh. On arrival we were told to make ourselves comfortable as possible somewhere, there was not a lot of comfort there, it was a fighter station in complete ruins, about 20 of us had come here to help the existing men load spares and ammunition into the trucks to be taken to Ipoh station to be loaded into a train. Bill and I were taken to a shed, nearby another two at another shed, we were near the east end of the runway. It was not long before three Japanese fighters came low level strafing any target they wished, the perimeter fence was down in places so this way out was used before, between us we filled the truck and as it was off to unload, it was time to eat.
Made enquiries about food, it was self service, go to the ruined cook house and find something in a tin, the cooks were dead, someone doing the cooking tried to do a meal in the evening. Lunch was corned beef tinned butter, emergency biscuits, the same recipe as Nelson’s days, rock hard. Bill and I went back to where we were working, not far away was a small wooden bungalow standing on wooden piles, the accommodation was damaged and useless, underneath it was dry and fairly clean so we decided to live there while we were at Ipoh.
The loading continued for about five days during which we were paid constant visits by the fighters, we put as much distance between our loaded truck and us when they came.
Only three of our aircraft were not destroyed, they flew off to Butterworth airfield. Our living accommodation was untouched as they were away from the hangars and runway. The fuel storage tanks were alight, widespread damage to stores, cookhouse and dining hall, there was no future for this station with no aircraft and no defenses.
Spies must be around the aircraft to arrive just after our aircraft had returned. Bill and I went to the dining hall, broken plates everywhere, the cook in charge said tinned food from now on, we cleaned a few tables but not a lot of diners turned up, most took their food back to the huts.
All native staff were gone, none returned the following day. The airmen were trying to sort out and salvage at their work places what they cold. We did get a visit from a single Japanese aircraft, no bombs dropped.
The East Surrey soldiers were having a fierce battle with the Japanese at Jitra. On the third day around 11am we were told to get our it and return to transport pick up area, Indian troops were taking up defensive positions to stop the Japanese, the camp was flat everywhere with no defences or trenches they had an impossible job, no aircraft, no guns, only rifles. Our transport arrived and we had to stand to take away as many as possible, no kit, if the airfield was in our troops hands, the vehicles would return to collect it, we were off to Butterworth.
The same conditions as before were at Butterworth, told to dig ourselves a trench outside our small 2 bed cabin near the beach where in better times you could spend 7 days leave here, sandy beaches, coconut palms, good food, nothing to do, music was played all day, what a change now.
The fighting was not going well for our troops, any resistance the Japanese took boats and landed behind the fighting, no British aircraft to help them was key to the Japanese success, there was no way to stop the Japanese advance. Two days later we set off again from Butterworth to an Army camp in the Cameroon Highlands, it had sparse buildings made of cement, outside taps, very basic, to us it looked more suitable for keeping domestic animals, pigs, goats etc, it rained regularly around 3pm, no wonder vegetables grew well in hot, humid, wet climate.
60 or so Gurkhas were also living here. Five days so called rest and we were off again, must say it was a relief to get away from the never ending sweaty humidity, we were told our destination was the RAF station, Ipoh. On arrival we were told to make ourselves comfortable as possible somewhere, there was not a lot of comfort there, it was a fighter station in complete ruins, about 20 of us had come here to help the existing men load spares and ammunition into the trucks to be taken to Ipoh station to be loaded into a train. Bill and I were taken to a shed, nearby another two at another shed, we were near the east end of the runway. It was not long before three Japanese fighters came low level strafing any target they wished, the perimeter fence was down in places so this way out was used before, between us we filled the truck and as it was off to unload, it was time to eat.
Made enquiries about food, it was self service, go to the ruined cook house and find something in a tin, the cooks were dead, someone doing the cooking tried to do a meal in the evening. Lunch was corned beef tinned butter, emergency biscuits, the same recipe as Nelson’s days, rock hard. Bill and I went back to where we were working, not far away was a small wooden bungalow standing on wooden piles, the accommodation was damaged and useless, underneath it was dry and fairly clean so we decided to live there while we were at Ipoh.
The loading continued for about five days during which we were paid constant visits by the fighters, we put as much distance between our loaded truck and us when they came.
Friday 15 October 2010
Introduction - Part 5.
The security of the station was in the hands of the Army, but the bomb dumb was the RAF responsibility, so each had to take their turn guarding this dump. Some of the chaps were told to sweep and clean the hangars, others sorting and stacking ammunition. We began to have the attitude that if this is what is expected of us, then that was fine.
We asked if we could go for trade training and was told 'An interview with an officer was necessary, wait until you have been here a while so that we can assess you'.
Talking to some of the airmen who had been at Aloa Star much longer than us, the question was raised, have you done the bomb dump guard yet? Various remarks like 'You will enjoy that', 'A new experiences for you there', we did wonder what was different as no one was willing to volunteer information.
The time came when Bill and my name was on the notice board for our turn. A mosquito net on the hat was required along with long trousers and mosquito cream. We had an early breakfast to relieve the guards at 8am. An RAF estate car took us 7km down a dirt track where we arrived at a very high fence with gates made of iron and very heavy chain link fencing, this is it, we were told.
The airmen who we were going to relieve were all ready to go. Shown into the hut saw there was a bunk, table and two chairs, lunch and dinner would be brought to us at normal meal times. One was to stay watching the gate, between us taking it in turn to patrol the perimeter fence. With that, were left to our duties.
The large wooden sheds containing bombs and ammunition had earth blast walls up to the roof, thick at the bottom tapering to the roof height. I took the first walk round the perimeter, mainly to find out how far it was – it took nearly half an hour, the heat was overpowering, away from the gate and hut creepers, bushes and trees made it near impossible to see it from above, the path was uneven and slow, I had not taken my water bottle with me and was gasping for a drink on return, I had not thought the boundary was that long.
Bill was sweating it out in the hut, which was like an oven with the door open. I said you had better take a walk round in daylight to see what you are in for. I sat down and watched the gate, could get duty officer calling.
Night came after we had a pleasant sit down and a meal with a lower temperature in the evening. A dark night, no moon but we had a powerful torch, I thought I would go first, then rest.
Outside it was just blackness, can't say I liked the noises coming from the surrounding jungle. What is making the noise, I switched on the torch, didn’t want to tread on a snake, a 2.7 metre python was found lying in the sun near the medical centre a few days ago, I could see around my but in the distance the light was reflecting on dozens of eyes looking my way, that was enough, it was back to the hut for Bill to accompany me, locking the hut up we set off, we did it once more during the night, that was enough.
Our change of guard arrived ready to take over at 8am, for us it was breakfast, shower and to bed with the day off.
My 21st birthday came four weeks after arrival, my friends insisted we go to the NAAFI in the evening for a drink, I wasn’t keen on the Tiger beer, it was so gassy, I was not teetotal, previously being at Locking in Somerset enjoyed a glass of cider, anyway I had more beer than was good for me and said that was the last time I was drinking that beer.
Now we had a tan and felt like other airmen we felt at home in the camp, told by other airmen we could buy and wear made to measure trousers and shorts of much lighter material than the service issue for going out in town, issue trousers would have to be work on RAF duties and parades. Alor Star had plenty of shops and interesting buildings, it was the capital town of the State of Kedah, it was a new world to us, the British wives of planters and government officials ran a club for servicemen, made cakes and tea, newspapers to read if you wanted a break from the sun in the afternoon. There was a cinema in town, that showed only Asiatic films.
On the edge of town, Malay cafes sold food for our tastes, Bill and I when in town had a chicken with chips and salad, a bottle of ice cold Fanta made our day, a bus service back to camp was run by Indians, a 60mph journey with all the windows open and still it was warm.
A short distance from the camp was a village on the side of a small river the Malay name for village was Kampong, nothing was sold there, how the Malays shopped I don’t know, maybe they bartered what they grew and reared, goats, pigs, chickens and ducks ran around.
Now and then, three of us hired a dugout canoe with paddles to go on trips along the river, it had a small current going to Alor Star so you only had to work one way. Larger canoes than ours did carry fruit, a man at the stern with a long oar steering it, the cargo was usually bananas, asking one of them to stop, gesturing that we would like some bananas, he motioned ‘help yourself’. Ken our other friend went to break a bunch off a stalk, he did not want that, take a whole stack with several bunches on it, holding out a handful of money, he took about 10p, nodding his thanks, off he went, we had enough bananas that day, took some back to camp left the others in the boat.
I mentioned earlier that there was a cinema in the army camp at Jitra, this was the best entertainment by far. The cinema was in the open, part of a previous rubber plantation before the camp was built. Trees had been cut down to seat height and planks screwed to them for seats, a small brick projection box, a screen on a frame, the film being shown had moths, insects and fireflies in it, as they were attracted by the light. No matter what film was shown, it was a farce, drama, cowboy or comic, I had not enjoyed films more than these showings, the soldiers would shout out comic details to the actresses lack of virtue and their past history, actors, told of their faults and failings, detectives were informed what to do, sometimes told what was about to happen, all with a liberal amount of swearing included, in loves scenes the females really came in for cat calls to say she had been around was putting it mildly, add the swearing and there was no doubt, no matter what film I saw there, it was hilarious, always worth the walk.
We asked if we could go for trade training and was told 'An interview with an officer was necessary, wait until you have been here a while so that we can assess you'.
Talking to some of the airmen who had been at Aloa Star much longer than us, the question was raised, have you done the bomb dump guard yet? Various remarks like 'You will enjoy that', 'A new experiences for you there', we did wonder what was different as no one was willing to volunteer information.
The time came when Bill and my name was on the notice board for our turn. A mosquito net on the hat was required along with long trousers and mosquito cream. We had an early breakfast to relieve the guards at 8am. An RAF estate car took us 7km down a dirt track where we arrived at a very high fence with gates made of iron and very heavy chain link fencing, this is it, we were told.
The airmen who we were going to relieve were all ready to go. Shown into the hut saw there was a bunk, table and two chairs, lunch and dinner would be brought to us at normal meal times. One was to stay watching the gate, between us taking it in turn to patrol the perimeter fence. With that, were left to our duties.
The large wooden sheds containing bombs and ammunition had earth blast walls up to the roof, thick at the bottom tapering to the roof height. I took the first walk round the perimeter, mainly to find out how far it was – it took nearly half an hour, the heat was overpowering, away from the gate and hut creepers, bushes and trees made it near impossible to see it from above, the path was uneven and slow, I had not taken my water bottle with me and was gasping for a drink on return, I had not thought the boundary was that long.
Bill was sweating it out in the hut, which was like an oven with the door open. I said you had better take a walk round in daylight to see what you are in for. I sat down and watched the gate, could get duty officer calling.
Night came after we had a pleasant sit down and a meal with a lower temperature in the evening. A dark night, no moon but we had a powerful torch, I thought I would go first, then rest.
Outside it was just blackness, can't say I liked the noises coming from the surrounding jungle. What is making the noise, I switched on the torch, didn’t want to tread on a snake, a 2.7 metre python was found lying in the sun near the medical centre a few days ago, I could see around my but in the distance the light was reflecting on dozens of eyes looking my way, that was enough, it was back to the hut for Bill to accompany me, locking the hut up we set off, we did it once more during the night, that was enough.
Our change of guard arrived ready to take over at 8am, for us it was breakfast, shower and to bed with the day off.
My 21st birthday came four weeks after arrival, my friends insisted we go to the NAAFI in the evening for a drink, I wasn’t keen on the Tiger beer, it was so gassy, I was not teetotal, previously being at Locking in Somerset enjoyed a glass of cider, anyway I had more beer than was good for me and said that was the last time I was drinking that beer.
Now we had a tan and felt like other airmen we felt at home in the camp, told by other airmen we could buy and wear made to measure trousers and shorts of much lighter material than the service issue for going out in town, issue trousers would have to be work on RAF duties and parades. Alor Star had plenty of shops and interesting buildings, it was the capital town of the State of Kedah, it was a new world to us, the British wives of planters and government officials ran a club for servicemen, made cakes and tea, newspapers to read if you wanted a break from the sun in the afternoon. There was a cinema in town, that showed only Asiatic films.
On the edge of town, Malay cafes sold food for our tastes, Bill and I when in town had a chicken with chips and salad, a bottle of ice cold Fanta made our day, a bus service back to camp was run by Indians, a 60mph journey with all the windows open and still it was warm.
A short distance from the camp was a village on the side of a small river the Malay name for village was Kampong, nothing was sold there, how the Malays shopped I don’t know, maybe they bartered what they grew and reared, goats, pigs, chickens and ducks ran around.
Now and then, three of us hired a dugout canoe with paddles to go on trips along the river, it had a small current going to Alor Star so you only had to work one way. Larger canoes than ours did carry fruit, a man at the stern with a long oar steering it, the cargo was usually bananas, asking one of them to stop, gesturing that we would like some bananas, he motioned ‘help yourself’. Ken our other friend went to break a bunch off a stalk, he did not want that, take a whole stack with several bunches on it, holding out a handful of money, he took about 10p, nodding his thanks, off he went, we had enough bananas that day, took some back to camp left the others in the boat.
I mentioned earlier that there was a cinema in the army camp at Jitra, this was the best entertainment by far. The cinema was in the open, part of a previous rubber plantation before the camp was built. Trees had been cut down to seat height and planks screwed to them for seats, a small brick projection box, a screen on a frame, the film being shown had moths, insects and fireflies in it, as they were attracted by the light. No matter what film was shown, it was a farce, drama, cowboy or comic, I had not enjoyed films more than these showings, the soldiers would shout out comic details to the actresses lack of virtue and their past history, actors, told of their faults and failings, detectives were informed what to do, sometimes told what was about to happen, all with a liberal amount of swearing included, in loves scenes the females really came in for cat calls to say she had been around was putting it mildly, add the swearing and there was no doubt, no matter what film I saw there, it was hilarious, always worth the walk.
Friday 8 October 2010
Introduction - Part 4.
It was lunch time when we arrived at a transit camp, sorted into groups, we left our kit and were taken for lunch which was now to be called tiffin. The food was very good, lots of salad, so far it had seemed a holiday, a great atmosphere, especially following a great cruise, the start of many in the years to come.
The Athlone Castle we understood would be making its way to New Zealand and Australia for met, grain and tinned goods, then returning to England through the Panama Canal.
We were soon to experience a rather primitive means of travel, the trains. Twelve of us were to be posted to Alor Star, now know as Setar.
About 4.00pm our transport took us to Singapore railway station where there were other RAF men waiting to be directed to which train to board. The train had two modern carriages, one a diner, the other was air conditioned first class. In contrast the carriage we were to travel in, was wooden with wooden seats, wooden shutters in place of windows, no air conditioning, but a small platform at the end of each coach. We found there was enough air rushing in through the shutters.
The locomotive was burning wood, the air was full of particles of ash which rained down continuously. We were on our way, our packed evening meal eaten, there was plenty of chat and suggestions as to what would follow.
The night was warm so made ourselves as comfortable as was possible and slept fitfully whilst waiting to see where our next move would take us.
We eventually stopped next day at Kuala Lumpur, we had taken 14 hours to travel 300 kms, this train was no Flying Scotsman.
It was breakfast time, so were directed to a restaurant on the station, also available were wash and brush up facilities. We were not rushed so enjoyed stretching our legs and taking our time.
Kuala Lumpur station was and still is an impressive building. We were looking forward to the day ahead as we pulled away.
Daylight made the journey more interesting with mostly jungle around. Looking down as we travelled on bridges over rivers large lizards and alligators could be seen, below one particular bridge the alligators were jammed together like logs. I did wonder if passengers threw unwanted food over at that place.
As the sun went down and darkness fell we began to wonder how much further. After about 2 hours of darkness we arrived at Alor Star.
As we picked up our kit bags and stepped out into the night air, we saw our transport waiting for us, a corporal had come to collect us. There were strange insects all around the station yard, most of the noise came from large frogs, fireflies inhabited the shrubs, this really was the tropics. The RAF station was about 12 kms away. Driven directly to the dining hall a nice meal was ready for us. It seemed a long time since sitting at a table to eat.
The corporal departed saying he would return in an hours time to escort us to our quarters. There were plenty of lights as we followed him to our hut which was European build native style, built on 4 foot piles, a veranda walkway to the entrance with large shuttered openings in place of windows, a type of rush thatched roof. Inside were our beds, lockers and mosquito nets on a frame above the beds, our new home. Showers, wash basins and toilet blocks were situated between the huts.
We were given breakfast times and then instructed to return to the hut where a sergeant would visit us to acquaint us with rules and what would be expected from now on. He eventually left and our first thought was that a nice shower would be refreshing after our long journey. The cold water was a bit of a shock, no hot water was needed, the night was hot and humid. After showing I felt pleasantly refreshed, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The room was quite long where all twelve of us slept.
In the morning we went for breakfast feeling a little out of place amongst the suntanned airmen, some asked where we had come from and conditions at home. Most of who we spoke to were regulars who had been away from home for two to three years and were due to go home for a spot of leave.
On arriving back at our hut, our sergeant arrived, formed us up, told us he was in charge and set some rules. Before 4.00pm in the camp and any time spent in town, tropical hats were to be worn. No walking through long grass between huts and around the camps, snakes were there and if trod on would bite. Work stopped at 4.00pm, Saturday and Sunday were free unless there was a parade or other assembly. He took our identity cards saying he would have camp passes made for us, we would collect them at the gate guard room when leaving camp and hand them in on our return.
A native man introduced himself and said he would be working for us, paid weekly by ourselves, and his duties were to keep our hut clean, polish our shoes and brass buttons, make our beds and would work until 4.00pm each day. His weekly wage was a ridiculous sum, roughly a tenth of each of the twelve occupants daily pay.
Private buses ran a regular service from the camp into Alor Star where there was a cinema that showed mainly native films. There was another cinema that was situated at an East Surrey Regiment Army camp two or three kilometres walk down the road at a place called Jitra, this showed Hollywood and British films.
The sergeant continued delivering his instructions, saying, you can have today off, report to me tomorrow morning at my office when I will have work for you.
I rested until tiffen time, Bill and I were still keeping each other company, so after our meal had a walk round the camp to familiarise ourselves with the layout and came across the Narfi where one could have a chat or a drink. We did go during the evening but as neither of us drank, didn’t stay long. We were soon back in the hut swapping tales with others in our group and all keen to get our passes to see what it was like in town.
Next morning we presented ourselves to the sergeant to be told our duties. We were not happy. Bill, myself and another chap were detailed to work in the dining hall, to ensure the local labour cleared and cleaned the tables after the airmen had eaten, working out the shifts ourselves each one of us would do. Back in the hut that night we were all feeling rather dejected, these were not the duties we had expected to be doing.
The Athlone Castle we understood would be making its way to New Zealand and Australia for met, grain and tinned goods, then returning to England through the Panama Canal.
We were soon to experience a rather primitive means of travel, the trains. Twelve of us were to be posted to Alor Star, now know as Setar.
About 4.00pm our transport took us to Singapore railway station where there were other RAF men waiting to be directed to which train to board. The train had two modern carriages, one a diner, the other was air conditioned first class. In contrast the carriage we were to travel in, was wooden with wooden seats, wooden shutters in place of windows, no air conditioning, but a small platform at the end of each coach. We found there was enough air rushing in through the shutters.
The locomotive was burning wood, the air was full of particles of ash which rained down continuously. We were on our way, our packed evening meal eaten, there was plenty of chat and suggestions as to what would follow.
The night was warm so made ourselves as comfortable as was possible and slept fitfully whilst waiting to see where our next move would take us.
We eventually stopped next day at Kuala Lumpur, we had taken 14 hours to travel 300 kms, this train was no Flying Scotsman.
It was breakfast time, so were directed to a restaurant on the station, also available were wash and brush up facilities. We were not rushed so enjoyed stretching our legs and taking our time.
Kuala Lumpur station was and still is an impressive building. We were looking forward to the day ahead as we pulled away.
Daylight made the journey more interesting with mostly jungle around. Looking down as we travelled on bridges over rivers large lizards and alligators could be seen, below one particular bridge the alligators were jammed together like logs. I did wonder if passengers threw unwanted food over at that place.
As the sun went down and darkness fell we began to wonder how much further. After about 2 hours of darkness we arrived at Alor Star.
As we picked up our kit bags and stepped out into the night air, we saw our transport waiting for us, a corporal had come to collect us. There were strange insects all around the station yard, most of the noise came from large frogs, fireflies inhabited the shrubs, this really was the tropics. The RAF station was about 12 kms away. Driven directly to the dining hall a nice meal was ready for us. It seemed a long time since sitting at a table to eat.
The corporal departed saying he would return in an hours time to escort us to our quarters. There were plenty of lights as we followed him to our hut which was European build native style, built on 4 foot piles, a veranda walkway to the entrance with large shuttered openings in place of windows, a type of rush thatched roof. Inside were our beds, lockers and mosquito nets on a frame above the beds, our new home. Showers, wash basins and toilet blocks were situated between the huts.
We were given breakfast times and then instructed to return to the hut where a sergeant would visit us to acquaint us with rules and what would be expected from now on. He eventually left and our first thought was that a nice shower would be refreshing after our long journey. The cold water was a bit of a shock, no hot water was needed, the night was hot and humid. After showing I felt pleasantly refreshed, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The room was quite long where all twelve of us slept.
In the morning we went for breakfast feeling a little out of place amongst the suntanned airmen, some asked where we had come from and conditions at home. Most of who we spoke to were regulars who had been away from home for two to three years and were due to go home for a spot of leave.
On arriving back at our hut, our sergeant arrived, formed us up, told us he was in charge and set some rules. Before 4.00pm in the camp and any time spent in town, tropical hats were to be worn. No walking through long grass between huts and around the camps, snakes were there and if trod on would bite. Work stopped at 4.00pm, Saturday and Sunday were free unless there was a parade or other assembly. He took our identity cards saying he would have camp passes made for us, we would collect them at the gate guard room when leaving camp and hand them in on our return.
A native man introduced himself and said he would be working for us, paid weekly by ourselves, and his duties were to keep our hut clean, polish our shoes and brass buttons, make our beds and would work until 4.00pm each day. His weekly wage was a ridiculous sum, roughly a tenth of each of the twelve occupants daily pay.
Private buses ran a regular service from the camp into Alor Star where there was a cinema that showed mainly native films. There was another cinema that was situated at an East Surrey Regiment Army camp two or three kilometres walk down the road at a place called Jitra, this showed Hollywood and British films.
The sergeant continued delivering his instructions, saying, you can have today off, report to me tomorrow morning at my office when I will have work for you.
I rested until tiffen time, Bill and I were still keeping each other company, so after our meal had a walk round the camp to familiarise ourselves with the layout and came across the Narfi where one could have a chat or a drink. We did go during the evening but as neither of us drank, didn’t stay long. We were soon back in the hut swapping tales with others in our group and all keen to get our passes to see what it was like in town.
Next morning we presented ourselves to the sergeant to be told our duties. We were not happy. Bill, myself and another chap were detailed to work in the dining hall, to ensure the local labour cleared and cleaned the tables after the airmen had eaten, working out the shifts ourselves each one of us would do. Back in the hut that night we were all feeling rather dejected, these were not the duties we had expected to be doing.
Friday 1 October 2010
Introduction - Part 3.
Firstly the obligatory visit to the recruiting centre, then three months wait before reporting to an RAF station where for the next three days I spent learning the basic rules, given my service number and being sworn in.
Now with the news of the evacuation of troops from Dunkirk I knew that I would not be going to France for a while. On the 12th August 1940 a letter with a railway warrant to Blackpool requested me to report for service.
On arrival I was issued with my uniform and kit along with other recruits placed in seaside boarding houses, some still busy with holiday makers.
The following 14 days were spent with rifle and foot drill, lectures with illustrations on screen and inoculations, which I quite enjoyed.
The last Saturday we paraded with our kit, then taken to our RAF station. Our escorting NCO took us to Locking in Somerset where mechanics trained. Arriving in the dark after travelling all day we moved into a hut then told a meal was waiting for us in the dining hall, the food was good, after a wash we were ready for bed.
Next day we were left to do our own thing except to be told that outside we must be fully dressed and salute officers. Monday after breakfast a sergeant entered the hut and informed us that he would be in charge of us from now on.
We collected our kit, formed up outside in ranks and moved to a different hut, he then told us we were all of different trades but Britain was fighting for its life and if the fighters were unable to defeat the Luftwaffe we would be invaded. We were to be trained to defend the camp from paratroopers and possibly land forces.
I met a couple of like minded chaps so we trained with rifles, machine guns and hand grenades, when proficient did 24 hours at the perimeter, 24 hours on standby in a hut and 24 hours off plus guard duties. The threat of invasion lessened and we became bored with our duties, not what we expected when joining the RAF.
I did get a break from the monotony along with five others, when a Messerschmitt was shot down. It was being displayed on a tennis court at Weston-super-mare Winter Gardens and the five of us were sent to spend one week guarding it.
The chance of a move came in February 1941, 24 men were needed for overseas posting, one pal and I volunteered, the other decided to stay, said he would wait until he was needed for the job he had joined for which was to be a fighter pilot.
After a thorough medical check – about six inoculations – I was sent home on embarkation leave, arriving back at camp we were told postings had been cancelled.
Two weeks later I was back on leave again, 12 men only were required, my remaining pal was not one of them.
I said goodbye then travelled with my eleven companions to west Kirby near Liverpool, arriving at the camp we just had to lose ourselves, by then we were enjoying some sunny fine weather.
The day arrived when we were taken to the dock and boarded the ‘ATHLONE CASTLE’ a passenger liner. I was given a card that read ‘Balin 221B Deck’. A chap knew had the other bunk. We, Bill and I, made ourselves comfortable, with wardrobes, chest of drawers with mirrors above and outside were wash basins and bathrooms, all the mod cons, after all, it was a cruise ship and very relaxing.
It was a fine sunny afternoon as we left Liverpool and sailed north, the food was excellent. It had been an eventful day and the sea soon rocked us to sleep that night.
On deck the next morning we were in company with ships and warships as far as the eye could see. We were in the centre of the convoy, three lines of passenger liners, around us were merchant ships of all sizes and on the horizon, destroyers, cruisers and two large battleships, the weather was a little cooler. Within three days the sea looked black, there was fog with sleet falling, the day biting.
We had exchanged summer for winter, I assumed our position must be near to the North Pole, the battleships had left us along with some of the escorts. I thought possibly we had passed through the area where the U-boats were most active. The cold weather continued for about one week, then gradually it became warmer.
We were then given the order to wear out tropical clothes that had been issued. The escort was now five destroyers, several merchant ships had now left.
Three weeks after leaving Liverpool we slowly cruised into Freetown, Sierra Leone. Anchor was dropped and in no time dug-out canoes surrounded us, the natives diving for coins that were thrown and falling in the clear waters.
Some Sunderland flying boats were moored near the shore, it wasn’t long before a RAF launch came to the side of the ship, the chaps asking for news of home.
A water tanker came to refill our tanks, then we were ready and on our way. Some of the ships stopped at Cape Town, South Africa, we continued on our way until arriving at Durban where we tied up. The ship was to be refuelled and restocked, we had six days to spend ashore. One day when Bill my cabin companion and I were looking around we were asked to the home of a South African family where we were served a fine dinner, then asked for our names and addresses, a card was sent to each of our families for us after which we were given a tour of Durban and its beaches, a very enjoyable day. We heard this was a regular treat for troops passing through.
Then it was time to depart, so formed up in a convoy, much smaller than previously then headed North deciding our destination would be where there was fighting in North Africa.
We had passed Madagascar when a morse signal was sent from the commodores warship to us, we were to proceed alone at maximum speed to rendezvous with HMS Hector in the Indian Ocean.
A day at full speed when we met our escort, an armed merchant ship. The Athlone Castle had to slow down to match the speed of our escort. Another stop, this time Bombay (Mumbai) to fill water tanks again.
Next day we were alone once again heading for Ceylon (Sri Lanka) to meet up with HMS Mauritius. Later, as we watched, in the distance a hazy shape was heading towards us. As we neared it was possible to see that it was the high white waves of a ships bow, a fully armed cruiser travelling at maximum speed as it continued past us before slowing down and positioning itself alongside.
We travelled with it to Ceylon which was surrounded with mines, our ship moving slowly through the channels. The shore was quite close with a sandy beach and palm trees dotted about, my first glimpse of such a scene. Soon it was time to leave accompanied by another warship, sailing through seas as calm as a pond on a sunny day.
Our destination was Singapore. Naturally we all crowded the rails to take a quick look before disembarking. We could see RAF vehicles waiting for us to disembark. We were met by the waiting RAF personnel, asked our name and number, then each directed to their assembly point, as each carrier filled it was then on its way.
Like most people in those days I had never travelled out of England before, so everything and everywhere seemed so different. The ships displaying their goods, the buildings had pillars supporting the above floors making a covered walkway; very wide deep tropical drains. I was looking forward to seeing more in the coming days.
Now with the news of the evacuation of troops from Dunkirk I knew that I would not be going to France for a while. On the 12th August 1940 a letter with a railway warrant to Blackpool requested me to report for service.
On arrival I was issued with my uniform and kit along with other recruits placed in seaside boarding houses, some still busy with holiday makers.
The following 14 days were spent with rifle and foot drill, lectures with illustrations on screen and inoculations, which I quite enjoyed.
The last Saturday we paraded with our kit, then taken to our RAF station. Our escorting NCO took us to Locking in Somerset where mechanics trained. Arriving in the dark after travelling all day we moved into a hut then told a meal was waiting for us in the dining hall, the food was good, after a wash we were ready for bed.
Next day we were left to do our own thing except to be told that outside we must be fully dressed and salute officers. Monday after breakfast a sergeant entered the hut and informed us that he would be in charge of us from now on.
We collected our kit, formed up outside in ranks and moved to a different hut, he then told us we were all of different trades but Britain was fighting for its life and if the fighters were unable to defeat the Luftwaffe we would be invaded. We were to be trained to defend the camp from paratroopers and possibly land forces.
I met a couple of like minded chaps so we trained with rifles, machine guns and hand grenades, when proficient did 24 hours at the perimeter, 24 hours on standby in a hut and 24 hours off plus guard duties. The threat of invasion lessened and we became bored with our duties, not what we expected when joining the RAF.
I did get a break from the monotony along with five others, when a Messerschmitt was shot down. It was being displayed on a tennis court at Weston-super-mare Winter Gardens and the five of us were sent to spend one week guarding it.
The chance of a move came in February 1941, 24 men were needed for overseas posting, one pal and I volunteered, the other decided to stay, said he would wait until he was needed for the job he had joined for which was to be a fighter pilot.
After a thorough medical check – about six inoculations – I was sent home on embarkation leave, arriving back at camp we were told postings had been cancelled.
Two weeks later I was back on leave again, 12 men only were required, my remaining pal was not one of them.
I said goodbye then travelled with my eleven companions to west Kirby near Liverpool, arriving at the camp we just had to lose ourselves, by then we were enjoying some sunny fine weather.
The day arrived when we were taken to the dock and boarded the ‘ATHLONE CASTLE’ a passenger liner. I was given a card that read ‘Balin 221B Deck’. A chap knew had the other bunk. We, Bill and I, made ourselves comfortable, with wardrobes, chest of drawers with mirrors above and outside were wash basins and bathrooms, all the mod cons, after all, it was a cruise ship and very relaxing.
It was a fine sunny afternoon as we left Liverpool and sailed north, the food was excellent. It had been an eventful day and the sea soon rocked us to sleep that night.
On deck the next morning we were in company with ships and warships as far as the eye could see. We were in the centre of the convoy, three lines of passenger liners, around us were merchant ships of all sizes and on the horizon, destroyers, cruisers and two large battleships, the weather was a little cooler. Within three days the sea looked black, there was fog with sleet falling, the day biting.
We had exchanged summer for winter, I assumed our position must be near to the North Pole, the battleships had left us along with some of the escorts. I thought possibly we had passed through the area where the U-boats were most active. The cold weather continued for about one week, then gradually it became warmer.
We were then given the order to wear out tropical clothes that had been issued. The escort was now five destroyers, several merchant ships had now left.
Three weeks after leaving Liverpool we slowly cruised into Freetown, Sierra Leone. Anchor was dropped and in no time dug-out canoes surrounded us, the natives diving for coins that were thrown and falling in the clear waters.
Some Sunderland flying boats were moored near the shore, it wasn’t long before a RAF launch came to the side of the ship, the chaps asking for news of home.
A water tanker came to refill our tanks, then we were ready and on our way. Some of the ships stopped at Cape Town, South Africa, we continued on our way until arriving at Durban where we tied up. The ship was to be refuelled and restocked, we had six days to spend ashore. One day when Bill my cabin companion and I were looking around we were asked to the home of a South African family where we were served a fine dinner, then asked for our names and addresses, a card was sent to each of our families for us after which we were given a tour of Durban and its beaches, a very enjoyable day. We heard this was a regular treat for troops passing through.
Then it was time to depart, so formed up in a convoy, much smaller than previously then headed North deciding our destination would be where there was fighting in North Africa.
We had passed Madagascar when a morse signal was sent from the commodores warship to us, we were to proceed alone at maximum speed to rendezvous with HMS Hector in the Indian Ocean.
A day at full speed when we met our escort, an armed merchant ship. The Athlone Castle had to slow down to match the speed of our escort. Another stop, this time Bombay (Mumbai) to fill water tanks again.
Next day we were alone once again heading for Ceylon (Sri Lanka) to meet up with HMS Mauritius. Later, as we watched, in the distance a hazy shape was heading towards us. As we neared it was possible to see that it was the high white waves of a ships bow, a fully armed cruiser travelling at maximum speed as it continued past us before slowing down and positioning itself alongside.
We travelled with it to Ceylon which was surrounded with mines, our ship moving slowly through the channels. The shore was quite close with a sandy beach and palm trees dotted about, my first glimpse of such a scene. Soon it was time to leave accompanied by another warship, sailing through seas as calm as a pond on a sunny day.
Our destination was Singapore. Naturally we all crowded the rails to take a quick look before disembarking. We could see RAF vehicles waiting for us to disembark. We were met by the waiting RAF personnel, asked our name and number, then each directed to their assembly point, as each carrier filled it was then on its way.
Like most people in those days I had never travelled out of England before, so everything and everywhere seemed so different. The ships displaying their goods, the buildings had pillars supporting the above floors making a covered walkway; very wide deep tropical drains. I was looking forward to seeing more in the coming days.
Thursday 23 September 2010
Introduction - Part 2.
Usually, the hot tropical humid nights were filled with the sounds of insects and croaking frogs, but not tonight, since dusk the only sound was the beating of drums coming from the kampongs. It was a sound I remembered hearing when watching a film when the hero rescues everyone in the jungle from a native uprising. But this was north western Malaya December 1941, were a few days previously, together with two friends, we had hired from the natives a dugout canoe for a trip along the river to view the wildlife, especially the giant lizards that abound there. Tonight, the drums were sending a message that would affect us all, a bigger uprising was about to begin. There was a gathering of ships of Kata Bahru, north east Malaya, the Japanese invasion of Malaya was about to begin, so about 3.00am we prepared for a war that was to be the test of my life, something I was not prepared for.
When war had been declared with Germany in 1939, my friend and I were just beginning to enjoy our life as responsible adults earning higher wages and more freedom. I had celebrated my 19th birthday three days before the declaration. It was December 8th 1940 and I was now 20 years of age, when this 2nd declaration was announced.
My father and some of the older men at work had spoken of incidents in the great war, which had ended a little over 20 years previously. I heard of life in the trenches, also of enjoyable occasions spent in restaurants, the bars and cafes, about the French towns and villages, the war that was said to end all wars.
My father had said little but did mention that he was one of the troops in Allenbys triumphant march through Jerusalem at the defeat of the Turks and of one incident that had deeply affected him and had been unable to forget.
It was having to shoot his team of horses, each one a friend he had become very fond of, faithful and obedient, and he had now destroyed them.
Before volunteering for the army he worked as a butcher. His return to work on leaving the army wasn’t to last. His first journey to the slaughter house had to be his last, he couldn’t kill any more and had to seek other employment.
It was when I began reading of battles and skirmishes taking place in France that I recalled the conversations I’d had with the men and was working with who had fought in those places in the previous war with Germany that I decided that was where I wanted to go, to see all those places they had mentioned. I reasoned Dad had joined up so saw no reason why I shouldn’t enrol.
I spoke to my friend of my intention but when he mentioned enrolling to his parents they were adamant that he wasn’t to join and painted out that he was six months younger than I. My sister, seven years my junior, on returning from an errand to the Post Office, handed me a booklet she had picked up off the counter, saying, ‘You like aeroplanes’. It was a recruiting advertisement with a form to join the RAF. I filled this in and received a reply informing me that recruiting for the RAF was now suspended for the duration of the war, I could however join the RAF Volunteer Reserves, this I did and began the process of becoming an airman.
When war had been declared with Germany in 1939, my friend and I were just beginning to enjoy our life as responsible adults earning higher wages and more freedom. I had celebrated my 19th birthday three days before the declaration. It was December 8th 1940 and I was now 20 years of age, when this 2nd declaration was announced.
My father and some of the older men at work had spoken of incidents in the great war, which had ended a little over 20 years previously. I heard of life in the trenches, also of enjoyable occasions spent in restaurants, the bars and cafes, about the French towns and villages, the war that was said to end all wars.
My father had said little but did mention that he was one of the troops in Allenbys triumphant march through Jerusalem at the defeat of the Turks and of one incident that had deeply affected him and had been unable to forget.
It was having to shoot his team of horses, each one a friend he had become very fond of, faithful and obedient, and he had now destroyed them.
Before volunteering for the army he worked as a butcher. His return to work on leaving the army wasn’t to last. His first journey to the slaughter house had to be his last, he couldn’t kill any more and had to seek other employment.
It was when I began reading of battles and skirmishes taking place in France that I recalled the conversations I’d had with the men and was working with who had fought in those places in the previous war with Germany that I decided that was where I wanted to go, to see all those places they had mentioned. I reasoned Dad had joined up so saw no reason why I shouldn’t enrol.
I spoke to my friend of my intention but when he mentioned enrolling to his parents they were adamant that he wasn’t to join and painted out that he was six months younger than I. My sister, seven years my junior, on returning from an errand to the Post Office, handed me a booklet she had picked up off the counter, saying, ‘You like aeroplanes’. It was a recruiting advertisement with a form to join the RAF. I filled this in and received a reply informing me that recruiting for the RAF was now suspended for the duration of the war, I could however join the RAF Volunteer Reserves, this I did and began the process of becoming an airman.
Friday 10 September 2010
Introduction - Part 1.
I was born on 6th September 1920, in Grays, Essex, the only son to my parents although I gained a sister some seven years later.
I enjoyed my childhood and was made a fuss of by doting aunties Ivy and Grace.
I remember my first holiday when we journeyed by train to a farm owned by a great uncle and on arrival being met at the station where we were put into his motor car and driven with the hood down to the farm in Farnham, Surrey, the sight of cattle at the farm, and being put on the horses backs for rides, childhood memories that stay in ones mind.
When starting school I was allowed to play in the fields near our house together with my friend, there were trees to climb and wildlife to study in the hedgerows. As we grew older we would erect our tents and during the summer months we were able to sleep out in them with the warm nights, we were never lost for something to do or pass time.
On reaching the age of 12 years and feeling very grown up I decided to earn extra pocket money by delivering newspapers, then used the cash to purchase a new bicycle. With this came more freedom with a friend who also was the proud owner of a bicycle, we cycled for miles visiting the seaside and exploring places we had not been before.
At school I was interested in geography, history, science and art, also to a lesser degree, gardening, but, like most children in those days looked forward to reaching the age 14 years when we were able then to leave school and start work.
I found employment with a firm who specialised in decorating. Now I was earning a regular income, my best friend and I enjoyed our free time, especially at weekends when we would hop on a train for London and visit theatres or choose to watch Ice Hockey. This freedom was suddenly curtailed when war with Germany was declared on the 3rd September 1939.
I enjoyed my childhood and was made a fuss of by doting aunties Ivy and Grace.
I remember my first holiday when we journeyed by train to a farm owned by a great uncle and on arrival being met at the station where we were put into his motor car and driven with the hood down to the farm in Farnham, Surrey, the sight of cattle at the farm, and being put on the horses backs for rides, childhood memories that stay in ones mind.
When starting school I was allowed to play in the fields near our house together with my friend, there were trees to climb and wildlife to study in the hedgerows. As we grew older we would erect our tents and during the summer months we were able to sleep out in them with the warm nights, we were never lost for something to do or pass time.
On reaching the age of 12 years and feeling very grown up I decided to earn extra pocket money by delivering newspapers, then used the cash to purchase a new bicycle. With this came more freedom with a friend who also was the proud owner of a bicycle, we cycled for miles visiting the seaside and exploring places we had not been before.
At school I was interested in geography, history, science and art, also to a lesser degree, gardening, but, like most children in those days looked forward to reaching the age 14 years when we were able then to leave school and start work.
I found employment with a firm who specialised in decorating. Now I was earning a regular income, my best friend and I enjoyed our free time, especially at weekends when we would hop on a train for London and visit theatres or choose to watch Ice Hockey. This freedom was suddenly curtailed when war with Germany was declared on the 3rd September 1939.
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