Ken Bush's War Part 1- Basic Training at Canterbury

Ken Bush’s War

As you know the 2nd World War went on for a considerable time. When I was a schoolboy, 13 or 12 when it actually started and there are hundreds of little stories I could tell.

I was an evacuee in Oxford,from Kent my schooling absolutely went to nothing.I was eventually brought back by my mother and there was no school to go to so you can well see that we lacked a lot in education. I remember there was a time when my mother and I were in the garden, the battle of Britain was going on overhead and a German airplane came swinging down out of the sky and crashed on the other side of the road. We both ran and we ran the length of the garden, which was quite a long run, and we got to the end and I cleared the hedge, or the fence, and my mother crashed in a heap. So, hell of a job getting her round and all the boys, all the lads came and they all ran for this plane, picking bits of it, being followed by the police who wanted all the bits back again because it was a special plane painted yellow, I wonder why it was painted yellow, you know some special plane that they wanted to get all the details off.

I was called up on the 1st June 1944, which was exactly a week before the invasion of France and Germany by the allied forces. They’d been waiting for me to join up, they checked that I was in it and they said right lets go

As I said I got called up on the 1st of June 1944 and was told to report to the barracks at Canterbury, Kent, which in actual fact is geographically, was only a few miles from my home where we lived at Ashford, Kent, Canterbury was often visited by us. Anyway I duly went down there, the journey to Canterbury was nothing very new because every day of the week I went up to London, London Bridge and got off and walked over the London Bridge, past the Tower Bridge etc. So this time I had to get off at London Bridge just the same but change platforms. Nothing exciting happened on the first few days, reporting to the army, they all tried to shout and bawl and frighten us, didn’t have much effect really. They could sling me out if they wanted to.

Anyway during the, I think it was either the 2nd or 3rd weekend, we had a Sunday which was free. In other words they didn’t give us any marching up and downs and slope arms and all that, we could do exactly what we liked, but we couldn’t stay in bed. So I took the opportunity of going down to Canterbury Station, catching a train up to London and down to my home. I don’t know why I did it really, nothing exciting about the trip or anything like that, I just did it for something to do I suppose and on the return journey things got quite a bit different.

We made the trip up to London Bridge all right but then trains were delayed but we had got an alert on and we were being attacked by Doodle Bugs. Now this was a new to us, a new weapon, a sort of a damn great furnace, comes flying through the sky, fully loaded with bombs and when the motor cut out it just crashed to the ground. There was no specific target, I suppose they had some idea how long it would last, the actual flight, so there we were on the train going, heading towards Canterbury and running parallel with us at about carriage height, so not very far away, was a doodle bug going in the opposite direction. There was a quite a heartstopping moment. Anyway we eventually arrived at Canterbury and checked on the time and we were overtime, it was gone midnight and technically I was absent without leave and all that business.

So one or two chaps who had done a similar sort of trip said oh there’s a hole in the fence up here and another one over here and they were gradually disappearing and I still couldn’t find a hole so I said oh I’ll report to the guard room. “Right back late sir” and all that business. So I did and the guard opened the gate and said “right your on charge for being absent without leave” and all that business so I said oh ok then and I'm on a charge so the next morning I have to report to the office and “left, right, left right, left right”, and I told them a tale of the blackout in Canterbury was so perfect that I couldn’t find my way and nobody would tell me the way and no street lighting and though I tried hard to get back to camp I went in the wrong direction and I gave a lovely story and the office said “oh well don’t do it again, if we had have been bombed and done a roll call you would have been missing, would have caused us a lot of bother” etc. And he said right go off and dismissed, case dismissed and as I was walking out the Sergeant had marched me in “left, right, left right”, and said to me you’re a jammy devil, he said not many people could tell a tale like that. So I said why is that then and he said well he said I saw you on the train at Kenley, as the train came into Kenley station you were sitting in the carriage. Oh yeah so I said I know that, I saw you. Which rather took the wind out of his sails completely.

Well we weren’t in this unit in Canterbury for very long, in fact on the 12th of July we were transferred to another unit and just before I leave the GSC unit, to tell you my first record how sadistic the army is, any Corporals, Sergeants who run the place. We had to go to breakfast and we all got a china mug, which was our own property, we had to keep that for ourselves; we had to wash it up and look after it. It was about a pint size, it was a damn big good mug and you would get a hot cup of tea in that for your breakfast, it was very good. But so when we had to march to breakfast and they decided that we were early, I don’t know how we got early, but so we had to do a bit of up and down, left right, and right turn, left turn and we all had to put a cup down at our feet so it was in a straight line so there was about three lines each containing about 30 cups. You can imagine the scene and we had to march through them. Well you can guess what happened without me bothering to tell you, only after a few seconds there was a crash and somebody’s cup had gone. It was terrible really cause we had to pay for these replacements ourselves out of our meager money and the chap who’s cup had gone he didn’t have any tea for his breakfast unless he got a mate who would give him a sip out of his. That’s the sadistic type of thing that you have to put up with when you go in the army, no common sense at all. Anyway after the middle of July, 12th of July, we then would, some of us were all set into different units some were transferred to the tanks and I was transferred to the East Surrey’s regiment 14774810, Private Bush, East Surrey’s. And from then on I noticed that training and discipline was getting much stricter. Well of course it was only a few miles away across the channel that actually the battle was on and I could see the majority of our instructors were very nervous because if they mucked it up they knew they’d be sent to the line and do it properly themselves. So the whole atmosphere changed once the battle in France progressed.

We were now doing route marches and getting quite physical application with a rifle and Bren guns and things like that. One day we were on Sandwich golf course which is very flat and sandy, silver sandy sort of golf course and we had to wade waist deep in water for over a mile so that we could get up close to the enemy without them seeing us and it was very cheerful I can assure you. But from that I got the silver sand in the ball of my foot and to this day I still have to sandpaper it down, or rub it down, it’s something I’ve had all the time. Should have reported sick with it I suppose, but its one of those things that you get.

We had rifle training on the range and quite a funny job really I landed myself with what they call pasting up. The target was in front of me, something like a sash cord up and down, you can pull it up and down on instructions, and you pull it down and you have him mark the spot where the bullet went through with a long pole, the longer the better, and if it was a bull you twirled it round all excited for them. And then you stuck pieces of paper over the holes and set it up and they can fire at it again. It was a cushy little number that, and I used to enjoy doing that. Having the wallpaper paste on.

After one of these physical tests that we were doing the PT instructor come up to me and said I'm gonna put your name down for boxing. I said boxing; it’s not my game really. He said no I think you’ll be ok for it; I want you to do boxing. I said well I don’t mind boxing, I said providing the person I'm boxing against is the same weight. I don’t wanna a damn great heavy bloke there I cant move. He said oh no your all the same weight, put you down for boxing. Unbeknown to me that meant extra training on the punch bags and things like that. And I often wondered what the others were doing. I was doing punch bag and they were all out being instructed and perhaps that’s where they learnt about the Piat gun. Anyway more about that later. And the day drew nearer for the fight, it was really all it was was officers entertainment, that’s really all we were putting on with the young lady’s, their wives and whatever all came down and the hall was absolutely chock-a-bloc, not a seat, not a spare seat. I don’t think I was top of the bill mind you. But there were one or two regulars in the regiment, I think they’d been doing it seriously, you know, they knew what it was all about, we didn’t know much about it really. And anyway they came and said now you’ve got to go and have a medical at the hospital of the prison, Canterbury prison and there the doctor gave us quite a thorough, gave me quite a thorough going over and said you know if you don’t want to box you’ve only got to say so and I can work it that you don’t have to. So I said no, I put my name down, I don’t mind, be a bit of fun I expect.

So ding went the bell for the first round and I started leading with my right and my right arm was getting a hell of a pounding from this guy who was constantly knocking it down, you know, protecting it, my right arm not hitting his face and about half way through the second round I thought this is ridiculous, I'm beginning to hurt and I don’t seem to be doing much so I changed bore. I led with me left and I hurt him, I actually hurt him, a gasp in the audience and I started to whack him, and I went for him with the left hand, followed by right uppercuts and I won the fight. It was quite exciting. The PI had the cheek to say next time I want a better performance, and I said what next time mate, there aint gonna be a next time!

Going back to the boxing I forgot to tell you, or mention, the payment we received for this fight, I remember they were selling tickets on the door, I think it was for some benevolent fund or something like that and we didn’t receive any payment except we got a brand new towel which was something you only had an issue of two towels, one you wash and one you use to have a spare towel was something and also the singlet or the vest which all amateur boxers had to wear, you were allowed to keep that. Mine was a bit blood splattered, not from my blood, the other guy’s blood. Nowadays of course it wouldn’t have been touched would it, have someone else’s blood on your clothes it would have been burnt or something. Anyway I kept it, I lost it in the end in the laundry you know and it happens you do up your bundle of laundry in the army and you make, there’s a label, I suppose I got two vests and they said you can’t have that mate and I lost it.

One time we were at Folkestone doing house to house training, you know there was two, most of Folkestone was on the seafront were derelict from the shelling and bombing and what have you and we were using these houses for mock battles, making out it was a real fight. And I was pally with a chap at the time and he was a bit heroic and daft and he was all for it, lets go here and go there, and eventually he charged into a room, with the skeleton of a window in it and somebody let off a firecracker which frightened the life out of him. He jumped out the window, fell and broke his leg and that was the end of him. He went to hospital and we never saw him again. One of the corporals said that’s one way of getting out of it isn’t it you know. Dear me.

Well anyway by now the tail end of October and there were saying well your trained now and you’ve passed all the tests, you can bayonet a sack of straw and scream and make it sound authentic. I’ve never heard such rubbish in all my life, all this business we had to do. I mean they seemed to be based the whole thing on the 1st World War,when bayonet fighting was prevalent, I don’t know. I know we had to go through this screaming with a rifle with a bayonet on the end, screaming at this back sack of straw, jabbing in the thing, pull it out and screaming, tear out his heart you know, god you only had to fire the trigger and he was dead. I couldn’t understand it at all. And a lot of us felt the same. It seemed to be living in an old world cause like the story of the East Surrey’s we were told that they were on parade and some old general said come on the buffs and the young officer stepped forward and said East Surrey's sir, come on the young buffs and so then went through life calling themselves the young buffs you know.

Anyway we were all having our embarkation leave and looking forward to a merry Christmas knowing that at the end of it you’ve got to go to France and join Montgomery and his gang in the war.

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