Chapter 15a - Back to Exhumations and Crosses

CHAPTER XV - Part One - BACK TO EXHUMATIONS AND CROSSES

I found it very strange to be at home. While away, I had thought a lot about the happiness of home, and contrasted some of the irksome sides of army life.

I had altered immensely. My present pals were in Cairo. I was in my home town but might as well have been anywhere. Worst of all, there was nothing to do. I had twenty eight days in which to do nothing. This was a great shock after the active life I had been leading.

At the end of the twenty eight days, I went up to the Infantry Depot at Edinburgh.

The Depot was a very formal place. Full of senior NCO's with pace sticks, and rather sorry looking recruits.

Then there were the others like myself. Back from odd jobs. Unused now to the trappings of military discipline, trying to slip unobtrusively from quiet corner to quiet corner.

One day, I was sneaking two blocks away down a quiet ally, missing the main traffic.

Suddenly, a Regimental Sergeant Major drew a crowd of recruits to a halt.

Then he addressed me. I knew I was at the centre of his scorn. These recruits had failed to salute. Would I go back. When I returned he would see that I was properly treated.

Now, if you sleep under your trucks, alongside your soldiers, you really don't expect to be saluted.

Later that day, I went back to the Orderly Room, I found I was detailed to mount guard on Edinburgh Castle the next day. What an honour.

I thought also of my inadequacies. How could I do it? I'd forgotten all my drill. Then I decided I must approach one of these Warrant Officers, come clean about my need, and hope he'd help me out with a bit of training.

Next notice on the Regimental Board sent me on leave. I asked. They had nothing for me to do. My posting to BAOR was not ready. So, I took the line of least resistance, and went on leave. Always regretted it.

What an honour it would have been to mount guard on Edinburgh Castle. At 20, you don't have much sense, judgement and courage. After having been on leave for a further month, I was sent to the Military Police Depot in Aldershot, to pick up a draft, and escort it to the port of embarkation.

When I arrived at the Depot, I was told that I had to take the draft the whole way to the Military Police Depot in Germany. I would not be able to return to Edinburgh, where I had left quite a lot of kit.

Immediately I telephoned the Adjutant in Edinburgh, and asked him to forward my kit which he agreed to do. Despite a struggle lasting for four months, it never turned up. In particular, I lost my officer's service dress uniform and officer's greatcoat. Now it was either battle-dress or kilt. I could no longer dine in any respectable officers mess. Even with the money, uniforms are difficult to get tailored overseas.

At Aldershot we had to wait for a couple of days. The CO finally offered 36 hours leave if we could use it, or just stay in the mess and do what we liked.

Should have hunted up my service dress. But 36 hours was hardly long enough from Aldershot and return. Anyway, I though it was all under control.

Decided to stay in the camp. The surrounding country was very pleasant. On the way up I had noticed a small river which thought might be fun. It was. One could row for about a mile upstream. The river then widened into a large pool, for a good row without watching the banks.

Felt very important as we marched through London and jostled people on the tube with our draft of one hundred 'Red Caps'. They were good, easy to control, and very smart.

At Hull, we were taken to the Transit Camp. Next day, we embarked on the 'Empire Lance' another sister ship of the Empire ?Arquebus?. The trip was quiet. The sea was like a mill-pond and we never even knew we were afloat. In Cuxhaven, we were once more herded into a Transit Camp. How heavy the taxes are on drink at home. Someone ordered a round for what happened to be the first seven people round the bar. That's generous, I thought. No change out of out of-a ten shilling note, even at overseas price. But he got change out of half-a-crown (12?p).

At four the next morning we got onto a train for Bielefeld. This was my HQ. I had instructions to drop the draft off at a station along the line.

Bielefeld was the typical overseas base depot. The officers were in miserable quarters, little better than other ranks billets. The place was generally chaotic. It took three weeks to post everybody somewhere they didn't want to go, and to a job for which they were not qualified.

Although I had my posting orders with me, it was three days before I was allowed to visit my Headquarters.

What a lovely cordial welcome from everybody in the HQ, including the Colonel, which was very encouraging. I was told that a job had been kept open for me in the American Zone, Bavaria. I was given a rail warrant, interzonal pass, and several other impressive looking documents.

Parting words were 'You'd better get another pip sewn on. There all Captains down there!? I was very proud. I'd earnt another distinction. Great.

At six, I caught the train from Hanover. There, I picked up a Pullman Express that would take me over the border. The train was run by American staff. I was able to get a sleeper for the night. A miracle.

In the morning we got into Frankfurt and changed. I felt very dirty. Had a shave on the train. I was also hungry, but had nothing to eat or drink so was resigned. Imagine my surprise when a smartly dressed waiter asked me if I would like breakfast. This was certainly different from the British Zone.

Germany was divided into four zones controlled by the occupying powers. France, Britain, America, and Russia.

At Heidleberg, I was met by a Guards Officer, who had a 15 cwt Bedford truck with him. Our drive to the unit was over some terrible roads and at an excessive speed. The back axle was screaming. I asked him about it. He said it was the only truck in the unit on the road.

We climbed up a side road to the unit. The first thing I noticed was a Humber staff car tilted towards a ditch where it had run forward on the hand-brake. It had not been cleaned for months and there was not a sound window on it.

I came into the mess and was greeted by an officer and a girl, both in their dressing gowns, having breakfast. The mess itself was a very pleasant five bedroomed house. It had the easy atmosphere of a home rather than a mess.

I went down the read to see the CO in his office. The Commanding Officer, a Major, seemed to be a very keen worker himself, but did not really care whether anyone else did anything. He had been a poultry farmer in civilian life. I liked him and found him easy to get on with.

It was the Whitsun week end, so he advised me to stay there until about Wednesday. I was then to go to Regensburg and take charge of a small detachment working with a section of the RAF Missing Enquiries and Research Service.

I was very glad to know that I was to work on my own. The people in the mess here at Neckargemund, seemed to be a crowd of heavy drinkers and people from whom there was no escaping. It would be impossible to lead my own life. Further, I felt that to run a section and be on my own would be good fun and useful training.

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