Danny says a Fond Farewell.
"There was one who was famed
For the number of the things
He forgot when he entered the Ship". (Lewis Carrol: Hunting of the Snark).
Or, in my case, when he got on the train. My memory is totally blank. What was the rail route ? I don't think there was a "West Coast Main Line" out there then (is there one now ?); the train would have to go first south (the wrong way) and then east to Coimbatore, then north-east to Yelahanka, before turning north on to the main lines up the spine of India before branching off north-west for Bombay.
Overall, I reckon three days for the journey. Who was in my compartment ? - no idea. It would be full (4), the others would probably be Army officers on their way home. As all roads once led to Rome, so now all lines led to Bombay.
My final leave-taking was short and without ceremony - there was no sense in farewell parties when people were disappearing all the time. I think the Colonel and W/Cdr Edmondes were still there: I would take formal leave of them (I would run into Edmondes some three years later in HQBC). I wished Alex the best of luck - he would probably have to close the place down. I thanked Sgt Williams with all my heart for the advice and support I'd had from him: I think I held a small informal parade to wish my chaps well. I still had several hundred "chips" left, so I left a couple of hundred to my bearer "Joseph" - it would keep him for a twelvemonth - together with all the stuff I left behind in my tent.
Our bowser and the WOT1 had gone back somewhere, of course. We still had the 2-tonner and the 15-cwt, but I think W/Cdr Edmondes ran me down to the station in his Jeep. The guard blew his whistle and waved his flag, we were off.
On the way, I had plenty of time to think back over the past three years. I have never mentioned another more distasteful wartime duty that all officers had to perform on units abroad. It's not often mentioned in people's memoirs - I suppose they don't like to be reminded about it. This was the censoring of your men's letters home. Who censored my letters - quis custodiet ? No idea (of course this all stopped after VJ Day).
Our chaps knew it had to be done (for reasons of security) and kept their letters bland, but even so we thought it a nasty thing to have to do. Particularly sad were the replies from lads who had obviously had a "Dear John", or who'd had family deaths, perhaps in the V1 & V2 blitzes.
The only things I ever had to "blue-pencil" were bits of technical detail of our equipment and what we were doing. And of course there was an unspoken "seal of confession" laid upon us. This was universally upheld, I never heard a whisper about any airman's letter from another officer in my entire time - and certainly never breathed a word about mine. And, come to think of it, that may account for the "amnesia" about the whole business now. We've simply airbrushed it right out of memory.
The time frame needs some working out now. I must have left in the first few days of May, say three days on the train and four days at Worli (now they knew for certain what ships were coming in and when, they did not need to keep large numbers on hand, but could call forward people "just in time" to fill and turn round the troopers). A week, plus two more on board, and I'd be back home by the month end. All plain sailing ? Well, not quite, as it happened.
I have few memories of Worli. It was not much more comfortable than first time. I think I handed in my pistol and ammo there. I may have been vaccinated (again !). It was getting very hot and sticky now; the monsoon was brewing. I had a swim or two in the open air pool of the Willingdon Club in Bombay; on the last afternoon the pool blackboard read 97 °F - the exact temperature of the human body.
We all know and love: "Bless 'em all". Now I was to grasp the full force of: "...as up to the gangway we crawl..." We were allowed to take on board what we personally could carry on one trip - once on deck there was no going back. My days as a Sahib were over. No more "Bearer !" - I was on my own now !
What ship was I in ? (you'd think I'd know !) It was either the "Andes" or the "Aorangi" (as there were 5,000 of us, I would guess "Andes" as being the larger ship). We were in "Standee" berths. As far as I could see, these were essentially a double-bunk version of the standard wire-mesh barrack bed, but with tubular steelwork in place of the angle iron.
At worst, I should not have as far to fall as I had on the ship coming out (7-tier bunks - I'd been on top !). I looked over the ship's rail across to the huge "Gateway of India" as the tugs pulled us away from the quay. A chapter in my life had ended. But I'd been: "with Harry - on Crispin's Day".
Goodnight once more,
Danny42C.
You never know what's coming next.
Last edited by Danny42C; 20th Nov 2012 at 23:35.
Reason: Add Material.