A Lancashire lad Goes to War: Chapter 2

URCHFONT

Most of us were billeted in a barn about a hundred feet long, located in the centre of the village. Beds consisted of three planks of wood on small trestles, lifting us off the floor by about six inches. We had the upstairs floor, and the cows had the downstairs. Although there was some lighting - one small naked bulb dangling from the ceiling - there was no heating. When winter came we were each issued with an extra blanket and even though we had that and the cows which also gave off some extra heat, it was still very cold. We also shared our billet with rats which refused to be frightened by us! They would scamper across the floor to be used as target practice for boots or anything else that was at hand. One could wake up in the middle of the night and find a rat on top of the blankets or even trying to get into the bed, which was rather disconcerting.

At night a Watch was posted at the top of the church tower in case of an enemy parachute landing. The first occasion I was assigned to relieve the Watch at midnight, I was climbing through the clock mechanism when it started to strike. By the time I had left the trapdoor at the top, I could not hear anything and could hardly see for about fifteen minutes - I never made that mistake again.

On Saturday afternoons, a truck was available to take anyone who had a pass to Devizes (about half-an-hour’s ride away), and collect them at about 10 o’clock at night. There wasn’t much to do, just walk around the town and have a cup of tea and a meal at the YMCA. On a couple of occasions I was able to see my elder brother, Harry, who was stationed at RAF Melksham which was the absolute opposite direction to where I was billeted. However we both managed to obtain passes for the same time and meet up, have a long chat followed by tea, before taking the transport back to our camps.

I went home on leave during Christmas 1940, which was the first time I had been home in ten months. While home, the Germans bombed the centre of Manchester, which was full of women and children doing their last-minute Christmas shopping; many lives were lost. The flames in Manchester were so bright that it was possible to read the numbers on the house doors in Ashton-under-Lyne, which was about eight miles away. I went to a Christmas Eve dance with Dorothy at the local church hall. She loved dancing and there was a “live band” and very soon we were enjoying quick step, foxtrot and slow tango. I only had my battle-dress to wear, but I was determined not to wear my boots. I always took my dancing shoes to a dance, so luckily Dorothy did not have to suffer me treading on her toes in army boots which had great big steel studs on the soles. We were good friends, though at that stage neither of us realised that our futures were with each other. I returned to Urchfont on 29th December so that the Scottish soldiers could return home for the New Year celebrations.

In January we were moved to Harrold near Bedford, where we occupied the manor house. The villagers were very friendly and gave us a great Christmas party. They all clubbed together to donate their rations and made cakes, sandwiches and trifles for us, and there was a dance in the main hall for us all to enjoy. We stayed a few months until the middle of 1941, when we returned to Urchfont with the 2nd Survey Regiment. This was a much pleasanter time of year to be on Salisbury Plain! As the weather was better, the local garage hired out bicycles and tandems, so Tommy Winship and I hired a tandem and cycled to many of the surrounding villages including Market Lavington.

About twenty of us were billeted in a large upstairs room at the back of an inn called The Lamb, which was far superior to the old barn used the first time. Fred and Nancy Pearson, who served tea and buns in the evening, had run the canteen in the autumn; we were pleased to see that they were still there for our second trip. Plums and greengages were available in the village, as they could not be sent away for sale because of transport restrictions. I sent my family about four pounds of Greengages by parcel post - they were the first that my family had seen since war broke out.

There was a local policeman who often hid in the hedges at dusk trying to catch us riding without lights. More often that not, we were able to ride around him and vanish into the night! However, one night he managed to stop three of our lads outside the pub for not using their lights. Word quickly spread to those inside the pub, and wanting to protect their friends, they spilled out, and very soon the policeman lost his helmet and found himself held by six or seven lads in a battering ram position, heading at great speed towards the duck pond. Just in time, three sergeants arrived out of the gloom; they told us to put him down, and they dusted him off and replace his helmet (while we vanished). Of course, it was too dark for the sergeants to recognise anyone. In the morning, the Troop Commander (Captain Potter) took the parade and demanded to know who was responsible for manhandling an Officer of the Law. Everyone denied all knowledge of the incident, so he finished the parade declaring that he wanted no more complaints from the police. It was still a cat and mouse game that we all enjoyed - soldiers and policemen alike - until we left.

CHIGWELL

Next we were sent to a camp halfway between Chigwell and Abridge which is near to London. Our billets were wooden huts, each of which slept twelve to fourteen soldiers. A larger hut called The Long Bar served as the canteen, but was also used every two weeks for a dance. Transport was to the local Woodford Hospital to bring about twenty nurses to act as our partners. We had beer and tea as well buns and biscuits. Four lads had their own musical instruments - Holdsworth had a drum kit, MacIntyre had a saxophone and clarinet, someone else played the piano and another played the accordion, so there were good impromptu musical sessions.

The Officers’ Mess was in a very large manor-type house, and held the electricity charging plant. It was my job every morning to start the large paraffin engine used for this purpose, and I then had to remain for two hours until the batteries were fully charged. This was a vital job as the house had no electrical supply and relied on the batteries for power. It was surprising how many people did not understand about electricity, but at my course at the technical college I was taught - including other things - how to connect batteries up to either increase or decrease the power, Resistances and Rios tats (these decrease and increase the flow of power like a dimmer switch). During the war, time and again I put to good use my college training, and at Chigwell I was very happy to use my knowledge as it meant I missed Morning Parades - no Roll Calls or Fatigues - so that pleased me greatly!

Several of us would occasionally take the train from Chigwell to Piccadilly to visit the Windmill Theatre which remained open throughout the war. Of course we males really enjoyed the beautiful girls. In those days topless dancers were not allowed to move if they were naked above the waist, so they stood still like statues. There were strict censorship laws, and if broken the Lord Chancellor (who looked after moral censorship) would have closed the theatre down. (It was only in the late 1960’s with the show “Hair” that this rule was relaxed). There was dancing and comedy but the showgirls were the main attraction. Customers would be able to come and go from afternoon to evening, and as seats at the front vacated, the people from behind would clamber over to claim the best views. I think that this was known as the Windmill Grand National! You could be sitting in the Windmill as the bombs dropped round and about, but the show never stopped. One time, whilst on the train heading towards London returning from leave, I saw an unexploded Landmine swinging from the signal gantry as the parachute attached to the bomb had got caught up in the signals. It looked like two or three huge oil drums welded together and would be packed with explosives. They were built to cause maximum destruction and death as they were fitted with time delays which were designed to go off in minutes, days or weeks. No one knew, when one landed, how much time was left before it exploded. The train had to keep going albeit very, very slowly and we all held our breath as we passed it.

Roy Rix lived a twenty minutes’ bus journey away in Palmers Green, and on a couple occasions we both stayed at his home. One time when Roy could not get a pass, I gave him mine, and then being at a loose end I went down to the White Hart in Abridge to have a swift half to cheer myself up. Tommy Winship came in shortly afterwards and joined me as he knew I was feeling a bit down. Pretty soon there were about a dozen of us drinking, so by closing time we must have drunk the pub dry as I was told afterwards that some of us were seen in the middle of the main road trying to prise off the white lines!

Next morning some revellers were suffering from monumental hangovers and greasy breakfasts were not for them, but I tucked into my eggs and bacon with gusto. I must have been one of the lucky ones because I never suffered from hangovers and I certainly never missed the mess breakfast.

My biggest mistake at Chigwell was to complain to the Orderly Sergeant that we had not had any chocolate for several weeks although we knew that it was being delivered to the canteen. His response was to sack the person in charge of the canteen and put me in charge. It was hard work. Every day — except Sunday - I had to drive a 15cwt truck into Leyton - a twenty minutes’ journey each way - and pick up cakes and buns from the local cake shop and be back at camp ready for the 10.30 morning break in the canteen. Of course, I made sure that everyone on the camp was issued with the chocolate in strict order to ensure that all received their fair ration. I had to learn how to order, tap barrels of beer and serve the soldiers and nurses. A truck was sent every other Saturday night to collect the nurses from Woodford Hospital so that we could enjoy their company at our dances - I’m not sure how many were left to man the hospital as there would be twenty or more charming nurses taking advantage of our entertainment.

We then moved the Hunstanton in Norfolk, where we guarded the cliffs against a possible invasion. I am not sure what we could have done if the Germans had invaded, because we only had sixteen rifles (dating back from 1912) and a few pickaxe handles - between sixty of us! However, there were rumours that pipelines had been laid down the beaches and into the sea at regular intervals; in the event of an invasion, oil would be pumped into the sea and set alight. I never saw anything suspicious, but after the war when speaking to a fellow soldier, he told me that on one occasion, whilst in hospital in Belgium, a nurse had told him that some time during the early part of the war; hundreds of German Stormtroopers were admitted to the hospital suffering from horrendous burns, and soaking well. They remained long enough to be stabilized, and then were shipped back to Germany along with all their hospital records.

Whilst I was on leave from Hunstanton, Roy Rix was posted to the Middle East (if you were issued with KD - Khaki Drill - you knew it was somewhere hot), and he wrote to me saying that he was to marry before sailing and would I come to his wedding. If his Best Man couldn’t make it, I was stand-in. I got three days’ Compassionate Leave, and headed for London in a truck which was going south to exchange some radios. After his marriage to Dorothy, the next time I saw Roy was in the Middle East.

Upon my return to the Unit, I found that more volunteers were being asked to go abroad. No one was sure where they would be posted, but it was assumed the Middle East as that was where most of the fighting was happening. I volunteered hoping I would meet up with Roy, and also thinking that Tommy would join me. He did not, but I suspect he later wished he had done so, because he ended up in the Far East fighting the Japanese. I was posted to the Regimental Headquarters, Bedford and given fourteen days’ Embarkation Leave. When I arrived home there was a package waiting for me from Roy’s wife, which included photographs of the wedding and a letter thanking me for following Roy abroad. Dad had already opened the parcel, so he knew where I was going. We never told anyone else - even my mother.

After my leave, I returned to Bedford and was sent to the assembly point to receive my kit for the Middle East. I joined a train with a few hundred other soldiers from other regiments and headed north. After a few hours I recognised that we were in the Lake District, and few hours more we arrived in a large town. When the train stopped, the driver told us to alight and promised us that a “grand boat” was waiting for us. I asked him where we were and he told me that we were in Glasgow, and about to board the Queen Elizabeth.

We left the train and gathered in a large shed in the dock area, and we were given food and boarding cards that told us which deck we were sleeping on. I was located right at the bottom of the ship in a hammock, and it was very hot and very smelly. Eventually we set sail in convoy of about fifty ships, and headed west for several days. This gave rise to speculation that we were going to America, but one morning we went up on deck and found that we had left the convoy and were heading south at great speed, zigzagging to avoid possible torpedoes. The ship was armed with 25 pounder field pieces which were sited at the front and back of the ship together with about thirty light and heavy machine guns which were placed along each side. This was no luxury cruise. It was a long, hot and very tedious journey for me, but maybe not everyone was as uncomfortable. One day I did an errand and strayed into the Officers’ Quarters. They were sumptuous and I felt a bit of envy as I compared it to my hammock in the bowels of the ship. We headed east-south-east, and were followed by schools of flying fish and dolphins as we got closer and closer to the Equator.

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