By Rifleman Biffen, HQ Company.
We received news that the battalion was to be mobilised for overseas serve while we were under canvas at Ickworh Park near Bury St Edmunds. We had all been moaning like hell about the conditions chiefly the frequent rains and mud, but on hearing we were bound for abroad, most of us had an uneasy feeling that we should very soon wish we were still in Ickworth Park.
After a glorious fortnight’s embarkation leave, followed by the usual but more pronounced temporary descent into the depths of misery, the days dragged by, each one bringing its own crop of rumours and denials as to when and where and even if we were actually going all.
But eventually, one well remembered August evening we were made to don our serge, plus greatcoat, wearing the respirator haversack and pack, crammed full, carrying rifle and sword with a kitbag completing the burden – a burden which made the strongest men wilt before we reached the ship.
We left about 12 at night and arrived in mid-morning at Aintree station from whence we travelled by tram to the docks. After a pause for a rest and a cup of tea, we filed on board the S.S. Orduna (later dubbed” Altmark”), a rather old ship of about 17,000 tons, converted to oil burning.
We of HQ Company had the misfortune to be allowed to Orlop deck which was the lowest troops deck below the water line and minus porthole and gosh was it hot. Although we wore practically nothing, we were nearly always sweating and it was a great relief to get out on to deck though owing to the necessary overcrowding, it wasn’t always possible.
We started off on Friday 28th August in a convoy of about 20 ships with an escort of destroyers. For the rest of that day while we were drawing out to sea, everyone was interested in watching the shores of Scotland slowly drifting out of sight and in examining the ships that made up the rest of the convoy and comparing them with ours. In particular, we envied the RAF boys of the “Andes”, a brand-new modern ship which sailed beside us most of the way.
That evening, most of us had our first experience of hammocks and I, for one, found them more comfortable than I expected; but Saturday morning, however, found us waking to signs of distress, the ship having entered rougher waters and rolling and pitching in a most uncomfortable manner. The rest of the day is best passed over as just a painful memory. Which unfortunately was not repeated and we soon g our sea legs and started taking an interest in our food again. This was reasonably good but as it was almost invariably stew, we soon got pretty sick of it. Water, of course was a great problem, being very strictly rationed and turned on for washing one hour only each morning and evening. This led to terrific congestion as the only fresh water we had was what we had previously washed or shaved in and, consequently, we couldn’t boast of much “Persil Maintenance.”
After that first day, the sea got even rougher for a few days and at times the spray washed right over the deck. The sea then remained comparatively calm right round to Cape Town. We had a canteen which sold cigarettes, a limited amount of soft drink and beer, chocolate and biscuits. These used to attract a queue which would have reached the length of the ship.
Our troops consisted of the whole of the LIR and a motely collection of other units such as drafts of RAMC and RA and so on and also several nurses.
We did little in the way of training owing to the excessive number of men on board and the pressure on space. All parade had to be staggers throughout the day. PT was rather a comedy as there was seldom room to do the exercises properly except deep breathing, which was the favourite and a class trying, for example, to do a knees’ bend with the ship rolling all over the place, was especially funny.
The rest of the morning parades were mostly lectures on various subjects and specialised training. As regards sports, boxing and the tug of war tournaments were organised and attracted and our LIR concert party was very popular, staging newshows “Liricals Ahoy!” and later on “Shamrocks at Sea”. There were also frequent broadcasts of music and concerts and new but there was generally such a hubbub of noise that they were quite inaudible.
Most of the boys had never any sea-voyaging before and quite a lot of time was spent at the deck rails watching the other ships and gazing for hours into the constantly changing and strangely fascinating depths of the sea. They were sometimes rewarded by the appearance of a shoal of porpoises or dolphins or a momentary glimpse of a strange fish.
At night, the sea took on a quite different aspect, even more changeful. Sometimes, it would flow calmly past in the moonlight, sparkling and glimmering and beautiful and then the moon would drift behind a cloud and at once the waters became dark, troubled and threatening, full of darker shadows and angry crested waves. Everyone was interested in the phenomena of the phosphorescent lights which could be seen even after dark glinting in the water stirred up at the side of the ship. They were also visible flashing in the spray from the saltwater showers and were quite startling at first.
On Wednesday September 9th, we sighted land again and how marvellous it looked after seeing nothing but miles of sea for days on end. We entered the port of Freetown in Sierra Leone, which is the best harbour in West Africa., between 7 degrees and 10 degrees from the equator and 3,050 miles from Liverpool.
We were not allowed ashore owing the prevalence of yellow fever and anyway, there was nothing really worth seeing though the background made rather a beautiful view consisting of a low range of hills sloping gently to the water’s edge with occasional streams trickling down and overed with a variety of typically tropical vegetation.
We apparently arrived at the end of the African winter because we had rain almost continuously during the 5 days we remained in harbour. Even so, it was very hot and we were very glad that we hadn’t arrived in summer.
All our mail which had been previously written and censored was dropped off here and many fellows sent cables on the E.F.M. network. These cost 2/6d for three phrases selected from a list, each phrase having a number, the numbers only been despatched and decoded on arrival in England.
Some excitement was caused while were here by an incident during the night. An electric cable fused and caused a small blaze on the hatchway above us. Someone slung a bucket of water, which put out the blaze but also nearly drowned the fellows sleeping under it in the lower hatchway.
On Sunday 13th September, the anchor was raised and soon after we started to move out of Freetown harbour. I went on deck to see the last of the land and watch the ship steering its way through the gap and the boom across the harbour mouth, passing a little lighthouse on the way.
The sun commenced to shine again, and we were soon well on our way in company with the rest of the convoy. The chief individual in this stage of the journey was the “Crossing the Line” ceremony although before this, interest was aroused by the appearance of survivors from some damaged vessel in a small boat and who were picked up by escorting destroyer.
We crossed the line on the Wednesday at about 2pm. I suppose the celebrations were more or less typical though perhaps modified to suit the circumstances. A large canvas pool was arranged on the aft welldeck with a raised platform behind on to which “King Neptune” and his court took up their positions and preceded by a fanfare of trumpets. The victims were intended to be representative as it was impossible to initiate such a large number. They included officers, nurses, NCOs and riflemen. Each one had a charge read out against him in a humorous vein and then made to sit in a barber’s chair, lathered well with a whitewash brush and some horrible looking paste and then shaved with a huge wooden razor, afterwards being tipped unceremoniously into the pool and ducked under. There was quite a lot of resistance which was soon overcome and was splashed about indiscriminately from a big hose pipe. The proceedings finished with “King Neptune” and his court themselves getting very efficiently ducked, besides everyone else within reach and the beginnings of a riot were soon dispersed with a hose pipe.
Soon after “crossing the line”, the weather began to grow
Cooler and we had to discard our topees and adopt warmer clothing. As we neared the Vape, the sea began getting much rougher.
We saw quite a lot of dolphins on this trip and a large number of flying fish while one morning in the middle of a lecture on the Gold Coast someone caught sight of a shark and everyone rushed to the side to see it, completely forgetting the lecturer.
We arrived at Cape Town on September 24th, early in the morning. Cape Town! Who in that portion of the convoy that stopped there will ever forget it. After leaving England with its war-stricken cities, its strangled commerce and subdued air of feverish strain, it seemed a veritable paradise. From the sea, Cape Town is an unforgettable sight with its big black rugged mountains rearing up to the clouds and the city and the docks nestling at the foot. As we were drawing in, the sun rose behind Table Mountain making a glorious picture worth of any painter’s brush.
Cape Town is about 6,000 miles from Liverpool and has an agreeable climate, warmer than England and never gets snow or frost. We were allowed shore leave that afternoon, much to our surprise as we had expected to be sent to a camp 20 miles out. But as it happened we didn’t stay too long to make that worthwhile.
How grand that first shore leave was!! We felt literally like convicts released from prison into a human wonderland and to say we enjoyed ourselves was to put it mildly. Capte Town to all intents and purposes was still a peace time with no blackout and not a thing rationed except petrol and that on a liberal scale allowing civilians 300 miles a month. As the supply came from Iran itself, it didn’t as Britain’s did depend on the hazards of the sea.
Everything normally obtainable in England in peacetime could be bough, besides many activities which couldn’t, being solely African products. What most delighted our eyes was the unending and widely assorted display of fruit such as apples, oranges, pineapples, grapefruit, lemons, bananas, passion fruit and all kinds of nuts and many other fruit unfamiliar to me. I am afraid we all thorough pigs of ourselves as it was all dirt-clear – a sack of oranges being obtainable for 3/6d. Then of course, there was confectionary unlimited in all varieties and those of us with a sweet tooth found our taste quickly satisfied.
Somethings were rather surprisingly expensive, ordinary things such as handkerchiefs which were about 2/- each while a haircut cost about 1/6d and a shave 1/-. It was wise policy to enquire the price of everything before buying or one would be caught when least expecting it. Watches were very cheap and nearly everyone invested in one. They were American made as was a tremendous amount of the goods for sale including motor cars of which I saw few British. There were many things for a visitor to do and see in Cape Town and the boys didn’t miss very much. In the town itself were many buildings, the most remarkable being the Post Office. A lovely tall white building standing proudly on its own as dignified as an old cathedral. The interior was lofty and spacious; the walls and ceiling being finished in glistening polished marble and the fittings incorporating the most modern ideas for comfort and convenience. Altogether, the most stately and luxurious Post Office I’ve ever seen.
Inside the town, there was also the Botanical Gardens, a snake park and museums, besides picture houses and canteens. The canteens were very numerous and catered most generously for the troops, many serving refreshments entirely free and providing reast and reading rooms and other facilities.
The European population were amazingly hospitable to the troops and went to quite extraordinary length to give them a good time. They would pick them up in cars and take them away to dinner and then to parties or dances or to the seaside or in car dies into the mountains. There were several popular seaside resorts quite close and many pleasant trips, perhaps the favourite being the trip to Table Mountain, from the base to the summit of which stretched an aerial cableway which transported sightseers to the top, which is flat and from which a marvellous view could be obtained on a clear day.
On the Sunday, we changed ships, transferring from the Orduna to H.M.T. “California”, a much more modern vessel but more crowded even than the “Orduna, having the whole of 168 Infantry Brigade besides some R.A.F. and R.A.M.C. and some nursing Sisters.
This time we were placed on D.5. troop deck, which was higher than the one we had occupied on the “Orduna” but it was just as hot. We had portholes but most of them we couldn’t open because if we did there was sure to be a wave, bigger than the rest, lurking just outside the porthole ready to pour in and flood everything.
We had one more afternoon ashore we left. The morning being devoted to a route-march during which we had to stop to observe the custom, started in the last war, of a 2-minute silence everyone at 12 midday.
Cape Town after dark seemed to us like a fairyland compared to our own rigorously blacked-out cities and a lovely sight with its myriad of twinkling lights glittering between the sea and the mountain.
We left Cape Town on September 27th with great regret, having spent the best time we were likely to have for some time. We kept going at a fairly good rate for some time and soon found ourselves in rather choppy waters. There were now about 10 ships in the convoy, the rest to be picked up at Durban where they had proceeded instead of stopping at Cape Town which would have meant an excessive number of troops crowding the town.
We passed Durban about midday on the Saturday, just a vague outline of a mountain being visible. We had then but one escort ship, which looked like a battle cruiser.
We had altered the clocks several times since leaving England and on the 9th were four hours ahead of London and were again entering the tropics. It grew warmer and warmer and were ordered to wear topees again on all open decks between 9 and 4 during the daytime.
The convoy parted again after a week, our section carrying straight on for Bombay and the rest supposedly going to Mombasa. Nothing of particular interest occurred on this stage of the trip. Occasionally, the ships would have gun practice when the convoy would string out in a long line, the destroyer then steaming up the flanks and firing a shell which gave out a small cloud of smoke, at which the ships’ guns would fire.
We reached Bombay on the 18th October and anchored outside the harbour until Thursday the 22nd. There were quite a number of other ships of various sizes also at anchor and were joined later by two hospital ships, which were painted completely white except for a narrow dark band round the hull broken by three red crosses each side and one on each funnel.
We were in a kind of estuary, with Bombay on one sonde and on the other rather broken country, some hilly, some very low. From this viewpoint, Bombay presented a very beautiful sight, with stately stone houses, turrets and cupolas white and gleaming in the sun, stretching along the waterfront.
On the Thursday, we drew into the docks and later in the day were allowed shore leave and after Cape Town we were hoping for another enjoyable time. To some extent, we were very disappointed as, compared with Cape Town, the entertainment here was very limited.
Very few Europeans were to be seen and most of the streets in the city were narrow and squalid and dirty and reeked of peta-nut, which all Indians chewed and spat out all over the place. Bombay was bull of beggars, mendicants, fortune tellers and curio-dealers who pestered one every few yards, while it seems even the youngest of children was trained as bootblacks or fruit sellers or more often just simply to beg. A feature of Bombay were the Indian gharry-wallahs with their ponies and picturesque gharries, which were little four wheeled carriages used as taxis. Tattoo parlours were numerous to patronise, while establishments purveying beer or spirits were very hard to find so most of our money was spent on knick-knacks and curios. Cigarettes and clothing were very cheap and many interesting or useful articles could be obtained for next to nothing if one had sufficient patience and bargaining power to argue down the vendors.
Every street had its pavement camera man, who would snap a person and deliver a perfectly good and well finished postcard size photograph for 8 annas or 9d. There was not a lot to be seen in Bombay except curious municipal buildings and some hanging gardens where a very good view of Bombay could be seen. If time could have been spared, there were some interesting caves to be seen some distance outside the town.
We stayed at the dockside until Sunday, when we once again changed ships, this time on to quite a small boat with a Javanese name – 2S.S. Melchior Treube” and a mixed Javanese-Indian crew. We had only been on board a short while before it began to move out at a terrific rate and we soon realised that we once more on our way. We watched Bombay sin gradually beneath the horizon with no regrets as most of us had seen quite enough to satisfy us.
Our new boat was only big enough to accommodate four companies les transport drivers of our battalion and even then, we were crowded but by that time we were used to that. The conditions on this boat we considered the best we had experienced so far, the cooking especially being far superior by we weren’t to enjoy it for long as this stage was only to last 6 days.
We were bound for the Iraqi port of Basra at the northern end of the Persian Gulf. We passed through the straits into the Gulf on the third day and were within sight of land almost constantly after that until Basra was reached.
We were accompanied by only one other vessel; the two vessels having come on ahead of the main convoy because the respective captains had both refused their motors at the low convoy speed of 8 knots.
We finally docked below Basra at a temporary landing stage on the Friday and Saturday saw us disembarking on the quayside and piling into lorries to start the next phase of our foreign service in the dusty, fly ridden wastes of Iraq.
Thus endeth our voyage which lasted just over two months, was happily uneventful in respect of enemy activity but full of interest and experience otherwise.