expanders and I’ve still got them after 57 yrs., they are still as good as ever. Another thing I bought when I was in Darjeeling, was a photo album which I’ve still got after 58yrs. While I was in Darjeeling, before I went home we came across an old man who was a fortune teller. He told me I’d be home by September of that year and would marry someone called Teresa, have 5 children – 3 boys, 2 girls. There was no chance of me being in U.K. by September of that year and the only Teresa I knew, was engaged to somebody else. However I was in the U.K. in September, so the first part of the prediction was correct, let’s see if the rest comes true.
After me refusing Sgt. Noblett in MHOW to accept his offer of promotion, Geordie, Taffy, Harrry Brown, Joe Carson had all gone. The only one of the old gang left was Blondie Hawley, he was an excellent operator and worked well together. I’m sure he didn’t go with me to Fort William, because I don’t’ remember him being there.
Early in 1947 I was transferred to Calcutta, Fort William Barracks. I was put to work in the Signal Office, now this was very busy office because it was the H.Q. (headquarters) so everything went through there, it was strange operating to Chittagong and other places I had worked from. Fort William was a large prison like building and the living quarters were very spacious with loads of room between the beds. Each regiment had a football team, the best being the “East Lancashire Rig”, there were a couple of pitches and there was always something going on.
Going around the city was an education, the poverty was prevalent, loads of beggars, cripples and down and outs. Myself and a lad from Brighton who had an excellent physique through swimming and the weights, found out about a gym in Calcutta and looked it up, it was a well-run place. The owner was the brother of a former Mr Universe competitor. We used to go there, a couple of times a week and could see the difference in our overall fitness, after a shower we would feel on top of the world. One night we were walking home from the gym and were close to a heap of rubbish, I don’t know what happened but suddenly about 50 rats were running all over the place.
Your got used to beggars asking for buckshee’s, but one night me and Harry Cummins who had taken a leave to come to Calcutta to see me, were walking down Chowringee St. (Main St.) when we were approached by a beggar. Harry lost his patience and pushed him, he fell over, somebody shouted “He’s blind” Harry couldn’t pick him up quick enough to say he was sorry. He told me his dad was blind and he would never have pushed the boy if he had known.
There was a Ghurkha regiment in the Fort and they were getting moved to another location, they had a set of weights, they couldn’t take with them. They were looking for someone to take them off their hands, somebody told them about me and we ended up carrying them between us to our barracks. As soon as the lads seen us going through our routine (me & Mitchell) they started to show interest and before long we had a pretty good class.
I was watching a football match at the fort, when I noticed a winger who looked good, but his style made me think I’d seen him before. When he came off, I went over to get a better look and believe it or not it was a lad I’d played with at school called Billy Culkin. We had a drink afterwards and talked over old times at school. He was with the East Lancashire Regiment and he came out to India a few months after me.
Chowringee St. was a main road in Calcutta and everything was going on there, I’ve mentioned the beggars and cripples, but the trams and buses were something to behold, they even sat on to of buses, hung on to the windows and the of the bus. Rickshaws and Tonga’s were millings around everywhere, the market stalls were mad busy, there was also a cinema right at the end of the street.
The natives were getting restless by this time and there was a lot of resentment towards the British Army. There were riots and parades through Calcutta with big banners saying “Ja Hind” it basically meant “Get out of India”
The “Black Watch” a Scottish regiment famous for being good soldiers in times of war, were brought in to quill the riots. Their orders were to fire up over heads but when one of them was stabbed to death a few, quite a few were herded up side streets and killed. What they wanted us out for I don’t know, wherever there were troops, money would be used to buy whatever, so we were keeping them going. Not to mention that a lot of our lads had died at Kohima and Imphal in Northern India and stopped the Japanese from going further into India.
Not that we wanted to stay, we all wanted to get home as soon as possible, there were a few exceptions, one lad was staying he wanted to be a monk, another wanted to be a tea planter and make a fortune. A couple wanted to stay with girlfriends they had hooked up with, one or two took the girls home on the troopships but I don’t know how long it would last for them. It was a 6,000 mile journey and if they split, the girls were stranded.
Prickly heat was a complaint nearly everyone suffered with, some worse than others, some of them had broken out in sores with scratching. Mine was just itchy, I didn’t scratch but wet my hand and rubbed it, you could get a cream off the M.O. The best bit was when the rains came (monsoon) and we’d just run outside naked, what a lovely relief.
Sometime about now, it is vague and I can’t remember what it was about, there was a coloured Sergeant involved and I was afraid he may have thrown a spanner in the works regarding my de-mob which was due any day now.
I went to a jewellery shop in town and I bought 2 watches, one for me and the other for my sister Ethel, mine was a 17 jewel movement “Roamer” and excellent make of watch and the other was Swiss made, but can’t remember the name. I don’t remember what else I bought, but my kit bag and a big case was loaded and I could hardly lift it.
I remember in Shillong, getting a letter from a girl back home with a photo, she worked with my mother in a café in Walton Road, my mother had asked her to write to me. I distinctly recall chatting with Blondie Hawley and he asked me what I was going to do when I got home I said I’d like to work in some kind of communications, like the Post Office, as an operator. Then I said “I might even marry her, pointing to the photo of Marie Duggan. I didn’t realise then just how near the truth that was.
The paperwork was through and we were on our way home, thank God. The journey was eventful, once again it was well over 1,000 miles to Delahli transit camp and I suppose it must have been a week before we got there. I’m sure we had a couple of jabs before we went on our way, with the red tape over, we were on a train to Bombay.
When we arrived at Bombay, we had to wait before we boarded the “Empire Pride”. We had cups of tea and whatever else we could get while we waited. We had left some things on the train until we were ready to move. I happened to go back to the train for something and I caught a loose walla (thief) pinching cigarettes, he looked at me for a while, he knew he’d been caught. I went to the door of the train and called the Sergeant over and told him, he approached the mad who had pulled a knife and looked scared and menacing. The Sergeant was going home as well so he tread carefully, the walla eventually legged it minus his cigarettes and no harm was done.
We got queued up to get on board, I could hardly move my case, it was heavy and awkward. When I got to the gangway, it was quite a high step onto it, I struggled with the case onto the gangway and a big M.P. came down to help and ended up calling his mate down to help him (they were on guard). We got ourselves organised, found our living quarter and settled down, some were in hammocks, but most were in bunks. None of the people I went to India with or those I’ve mentioned before came home with me.
I mated up with a lad from Nottingham who I hadn’t known before and we more or less stuck together. About one and a half days into the Indian Ocean a storm came up and what a storm. The “Empire Pride” was a small ship compared to the “Britannic” and “Georgie” and it bounced around like a cork. Everywhere you looked someone was vomiting or just lying on the deck or anywhere else they could find. Some were worse than others , some were bringing up blood and needed medical treatment. They had to mak
e some extra space to take amount of sick soldiers, the medical room just couldn’t take them. Up to now, I felt alright, but some who it hadn’t effected thought it was funny, I didn’t I felt sorry for them. One lad was in a terrible state and I remember him hanging over the side and this old merchant seaman, with a big handle bar moustache turned his head towards the wind and said “Take deep breaths”, I don’t think it done any good.
We had been in this for almost a week, it had been bad, anyway the last day of the storm, I was down below on my bunk and my stomach felt lousy. As time went on I felt terrible and I realised it had got to me, I run up on deck and threw myself on the deck and was sick. Three or four of the lads were in a corner out of the wind playing cards and I wasn’t far away when I was sick. That was it, I was never sick afterwards, we got into the Red Sea and that was quite peaceful after the Indian Ocean. I think we were in the Med when we saw a troopship passing by and they were signalling with the Aldis Lamp. I grabbed a piece of paper and told one of the lads to write down what I told him “The English Cricket team would like to wish everyone on board a safe