After a few weeks my battalion returns to England and we arrive home for Christmas 1936. During the Palestine campaign we suffered only three casualties, one killed and two wounded. Our task was to protect the Jewish settlements and the railways. We provided escorts for all trains for all road transport. We also guarded the oil pipe lines. We are stationed at Catterick Camp where I have a course of driving and maintenance. After which we go north to Leeds to prepare for a military tattoo which is very interesting. My battalion gives a physical training display. The tattoo is quite a success and everyone is satisfied with the result.
After a week’s holiday I embark for India in September 1937. We sail in the troop ship Dorsetshire, which takes 21 days. There is a storm after ten days which lasts 24 hours. But there is no further incident. There are plenty of games and other recreation. There is a dance and a concert. We disembarked at Bombay and after two hours caught the train to Calcutta which took almost four days. The troop trains are not comfortable with their wooden seats. In each compartment in addition to the seat each side there are two shelves or racks over the seats so that six persons may lie down at once. The trains are larger than at home and the engines are bigger and more powerful so that they can travel great distances. We don’t take food on the trains but stop three times daily between stations at pre-arranged places where a meal is usually ready. We have an aluminium plate and mess tin, which we always carry, together with a knife, fork and spoon. There is no fence or railings each side of the railways as at home, except in a few places, so that very often buffalo, goats, etc. can wander on to the lines. I am told that there was once a fence but the natives took it away for their personal use. At home wooden sleepers are used under the lines. But in India metal sleepers are used because of the white ant which can eat through wood in a very short time. We carry everywhere when travelling a small bundle of bedding which we call a ‘Blue Bundle’. This consists of a blanket or two, and an outward covering we call a ‘Dunny’. Sheets are not normally provided but we buy them as well as a small pillow, remembering that all this has to be carried in addition to a rifle and other equipment, and if we want a comfortable bed, we must suffer a little discomfort in carrying it about in this hot climate.
At every stop there are children selling bananas and small tangerines, monkey nuts, and ‘Bombay Oysters’. This is an egg broken into a small glass or cup with vinegar, pepper and salt. There are also the char wallahs (tea men) who carry a large tin container of tea which is kept warm by a small fire of charcoal underneath. The tea is never good due to the fact that the best tea is exported, and the water is terrible, and is always full of chemicals. Where the tap is exposed to the sun, the water must be allowed to run for several minutes, as it’s too warm to hold one’s hand underneath. There is an enormous sale for these minerals which are quite cheap.
The natives do not use a cup and saucer as Europeans do, but many carry their own metal cup which has no handle. But there are many different religions and castes, each with their own customs and habits. Most eat with their fingers which should be washed after the meal. The staple food is rice and many of the very poor eat nothing else. The most common diet is curried rice with beef, mutton, fish, or chicken. The rice is boiled separately but the curried beef etc. is cooked with chillies which are small and pea shaped, and may be red or green. The green chilli is very bitter and once eaten can be tasted several hours after. Water is usually taken with the meal.
We arrive at Calcutta about 12.30 p.m. and march to the fort about two miles away. We are accompanied by the pipe band. Fort William has several entrances. Two are guarded day and night and a third is guarded at night only. The wall around the fort is very substantial, and is about nine feet in height and is surrounded by a moat.
We are directed to our barrack rooms after tiffen (midday meal) and I am surprised to find almost everyone in bed. At first I imagine they have just returned from manoeuvres, but soon learn that those not on any special duty go to bed every afternoon. There are about 90 beds in each room, and it’s picturesque to watch everyone lying on top of a sheet-covered bed with nothing on except a pair of white pants, and overhead many very large fans. There are about ten big double swing doors leading out on to a veranda and at one end of the veranda there are stairs leading up on to the roof which is flat like most buildings in the east.
At 4 p.m. tea is served in the barrack rooms with a biscuit, after which everyone takes a shower bath and will then play a game of football or hockey, or just watch a game. Many go for a run or walk around outside the fort. Many will have another shower bath on return. We take a shower after every parade, if time permits. It’s not terribly warm here, usually about 108 degrees in the shade. But it’s the awful humidity, and our clothing is always wet with perspiration. Most get prickly heat which is thousands of tiny red spots and cause a terrible irritation. We have dinner at 6 p.m. after which we may go to the canteen where beer is served, and the day canteen for tea and a hot or cold meal and minerals.
There is a cinema inside the fort. Most walk into the city until 9.30 p.m. and midnight during weekends. Reveille is at 5.30 a.m. We do two parades before breakfast which is at 8 a.m. There are three parades before tiffen and we finish parades at 12.30 a.m. We do about one 24-hour guard and one 12-hour guard a week. As well as guarding the fort we have to guard the gun and shell factory about four miles away at Cossipore. After three weeks at the fort we go about fifteen miles away to fire the rifle and the Lewis light machine gun. We live in tents for ten days. On my return, I am transferred to the signal section, and after two months go to a hill station in the Himalayas. We climb the hills to Darjeeling, about nine thousand feet, in the small mountain train. From there we climb another thousand feet (on foot) to Jalapahar, where we live in wooden bungalows. It’s very much colder here and we have to light fires. We do guard duties on the married families quarters at Katapahar, about 900 feet higher. From here Mount Everest and Känchenjunga are visible at about 4.30-5.30 a.m. It rains a lot, almost continuously for two weeks. After parades we can hire a pony for one rupee an hour, and go down to the tea plantations, or climb higher to Tiger Hill.
As I stand on guard one morning at Katapahar and look across towards Tibet, I think of many things, first of all the wonderful protection which the Himalayas affords to India, and then again I wonder and think an attack through Tibet would not be impossible. I ask myself who or what lies on the other side of Tibet. One of the lads in the guard room has told me that China is the other side and that the Chinese people were friendly towards us. But what if the Japanese ever conquered China. I often wonder why there are so many Japs in Calcutta. Is it not possible they are there for reasons other than normal trade? There are quite a lot of dentists amongst them, and they run a few cheap restaurants. I used to visit one a mile from Calcutta at a place called Kidderpore, which was out of bounds, and I went mainly because it was out of bounds. If there is a desire to hide something there must be something which is worth hiding. There is danger in these out of bounds areas. In this particular street I go to, it’s said that many people have gone there and never left it. It’s called Watjun Street. But the greatest danger as I see it is entering and leaving without being caught by the military police, which makes life exciting.
Most food, including fruit, is most expensive with the exception of pineapples, due to the cost of bringing it up the mountain. We can get a medium-sized pineapple for one and a half annas (1?d). An anna is about a penny and there are sixteen annas in one rupee. There are four pice in one anna and four pies in one pice. The pie which is 1/16 of an anna is not normally used by the Europeans. But I have seen the poor Indians buy a small cup of tea for two pies in Kidderpore near Calcutta. This cup is made of very thin reddish earthenware material, which is a kind of clay. The cup has no handle, and is never used a second time but is broken on the roadside outside the tea shop. Therefore the amount of business or trade may be calculated by the number of broken cups.
In Jalapahar it
is still raining, and most of our training is done indoors. We are taught how to use the heliograph. This is a mirror used to transmit messages if the weather permits, i.e. there must be plenty of sun and the sky should be clear of clouds. A double mirror is used when the sun is at the back of the sender. We are taught hand signalling which is more effective at night. We are also taught telephone work. Ours is a D3. As well as sending messages by speech, we may use the Morse code. There is a key attachment, similar to that used in the post office. Flag signalling is another method. Code is also used, as in all other kinds of signalling except semaphore when two flags are used. Our D3 telephone makes a buzzing sound when using the key, unlike the post office key which is a knocking sound.
It is the indoor training that worries me because we stand in a half circle around a blackboard and it is so much like being back at school, and I feel nervous, and when I am asked to go to the blackboard I am trembling and my writing is poor, when I speak I stammer. We have a corporal called D. Lloyd and he likes to make fun of me and some of the lads laugh. They think it’s fun seeing me so nervous. It’s remarkable how I can’t get over this fear of making a mistake. In the old days it was fear of being beaten, but now it’s the fear of looking foolish or being laughed at. I often wish I was getting beaten again. It would be much more bearable than being laughed at. One of the instructors is very nice and I think he understands how I feel and tries to help me. Some days I think I have made a great mistake by joining the army, because there is no escape route. The other morning when there was no mist or cloud, I borrowed a telescope. It was a very good one as it magnified 30 times. I wanted to study the mountains and valleys. I was thinking of deserting the army if I ever felt any worse. But of course things would have to be much worse than they are at present. My headaches are not too bad and I sleep a few hours each night. I still dream of flying across water. But I am not being followed. I dream that I may fall into the water and be drowned. But the fear does not terrify me. I will probably never desert the army. But if I ever do, it will be to Tibet, or to Afghanistan. The lads are talking about our battalion being transferred to the northwest frontier, which is in Afghanistan, where it snows in the winter. Troops who serve at the frontier get a medal, but a medal is just something to let people see when one goes back home, something to boast about. But I never think about going home, besides I have to do another five years yet. After three months we go back to Calcutta. It’s better here. There is more life and I have now made two pals, Reilly and Hannigan from Glasgow. Their parents come from Ireland. We always walk out together. We drink iced German beer on Friday and Saturday, and spend the remainder of the week reading papers and playing billiards. The beer is one rupee four annas (or 1s 8d) a bottle which is slightly more than a pint. But it’s a high gravity beer, and the alcoholic content is higher than our beer at home. Cigarettes are about half the price at home, or 6 annas for twenty best brand. Calcutta is in the province of Bengal and the language spoken is Bengali. But as it’s a cosmopolitan city there are many languages spoken. Almost anyone of any importance can speak English and Hindustani. The natives are mostly Hindus.
We are now transferred to Jabalpur in the central provinces. It’s much warmer here and the people are darker. They are slightly bigger than in Bengal. Their religion is mainly Muslim and Buddhist and Mohammedan. The people of different religions have little or nothing in common and do practically no business with each other, and they do not even converse with each other. There are many riots in India starting with some petty incident, for example one person touching another as they pass on the street or seeing an animal being slaughtered. But the soldier does not mix very much with the natives, and therefore one learns so very little about the people or their customs.
Here, as in Calcutta, few of the men shave themselves as the nappy (barber) comes around each morning, and shaves them in bed between four and five a.m. We have a ‘boot boy’ between every dozen men, who brings us char (tea) from the cookhouse each morning. He cleans our equipment, boots, etc. He washes our toppee, makes beds and runs errands. We clean our own rifles and guns. We each pay him eight annas but for a rupee he will wait on us hand and foot the whole day. The dhobi (laundry man) calls each evening to collect the soiled laundry and return it the next day. He comes to the barrack room to collect it, he is called the ‘free of charge’ but it means tying up the laundry and carrying it a hundred yards to the Company store. But in this country nobody likes work and anyone who can earn ten rupees a week will employ a boy or servant.
There are two kinds of servants, the honest and dishonest, and they are equally efficient at their work. The dishonest one will sometimes wait a whole year before he robs you. But then he does it on a grand scale. When I arrived at Calcutta they were talking about a servant who was trusted so much that they allowed him to come to the Company store each day and clean and oil all the spare rifles. The store man would go drinking to the canteen and leave him in charge of the store. He done this for more than a year until Christmas 1936. He was missing on Christmas day and so also was a box of twelve rifles. He was arrested at the northwest frontier but the rifles were already sold and were never recovered.
In Jabalpur we do a lot of outdoor training but nobody takes it seriously. We go fairly long distances to signal with the heliograph. We do manoeuvres and long marches. But it’s all a joke and if we don’t want to do a route march we just go sick. On a training exercise one day our platoon officer offered a packet of cigarettes to the first man back to camp, a distance of six miles. But when we came to a river we decided to travel a mile further down where it was shallow. L. Henderson wanted the cigarettes badly and tried to swim the river but was drowned.
It’s 1938 and life has been tolerable. There is a cinema in camp and a library, a billiard room and canteen, and a bicycle shop where we can hire one for eight annas an hour to go to bazaar or village where we may buy cheap spirits or native beer which tastes like cold coffee. We also buy underwear, bedspreads and sheets. Many of the lads have cameras and they develop their own films. Many have pen pals in the States and photographs are exchanged. Some of the lads write letters to many parts of the world, mostly to girlfriends. Some chaps fall madly in love with girls they have never met. In this part of India nobody thinks of going out with a girl because there isn’t any. In the big cities, Bombay and Calcutta, there are many half-caste girls who go to dances and in many cases marry their soldier boys and they make good wives. There are six men in my Battalion who have married coloured girls.
Many of the men who marry half-caste girls are very conscious about the colour of their skin and will spend no end of money trying to make the skin fair. They go to native quack doctors and purchase paints, powders and various chemicals and after a few days’ trial will take their wife’s photograph which they will study and show around to all their friends for their opinion as to whether or not there is any improvement in their wife’s complexion. These women are so colour conscious that they will not leave the house before sunset in case the sun makes them darker.
I am transferred to Nagpur, 30 hours’ train journey from here, on a three months’ tour of duty. There is another signaller with me. Our job is to keep in communication with the Rajput Indian regiment using heliograph during the day and the signal lamp at night. The reason for this is in the event of riots or disturbances we will be able to assist each other. Most people in Nagpur support the Congress or Gandhi party. They are more aggressive than most other Indians and unlike the timid Bengalis. There is more entertainment in the town of Nagpur and we have some very good sports grounds, football fields and hockey grounds.
I am back at Jabalpur and there is a lot of talk about the possibility of war. But it doesn’t cost me a thought. I don’t believe we shall ever go to war again in Europe. I can’t imagine our army going to war with anyone because we should be lost without the nappi, the dhobi and the boot-boy to bring us tea in bed. I fail to see how we could win a war. It’s true we have a good rifle,
probably the best in the world. But most of our other equipment is obsolete. I can’t imagine using a heliograph at the front, or a pair of semaphore flags, or a lamp. Besides we should not be able to go to bed at the front after our mid-day meal. We have mule transport which can hardly be said to be modern. It’s true that some of the mules we have are the fastest things on land, but how can we keep up with them? The last time we done manoeuvres we just managed to load our signalling equipment on the backs of the animals when they decided to stampede. Much of our best equipment was lost or broken and it was several hours before all the mules were recaptured.
War has been declared and we are informed by our C.O. that we are on active service. But we carry on just as before, except that nobody leaves the Regiment. About twenty who are due to be transferred to the reserve were on their way home but they have returned to India. All leave is cancelled. The war does not affect us in the least until well after Dunkirk. Our failure in Europe did not surprise us. I remember once asking a sergeant of the tank corps, in 1937, whilst we were on manoeuvres at Catterick Camp how many tanks we had which were serviceable. He said ‘there were about three hundred modern tanks, and about two hundred of an older type which could be considered obsolete’. This was in the whole of Britain. The Germans used three thousand tanks in a single battle.
The training is now more realistic. There is no more going to bed in the afternoons. The army at home lost two-thirds of all their war material and are now training with broomsticks. The authorities are now getting worried. We have only 28,000 troops in the whole of India. So we go on flag marches to many parts where no troops have previously been stationed. We travel about two hundred miles by train and march through villages, and in many cases the natives run away from us, because they have not seen white men before. I am told the reason for the ‘flag marches’ is to let the people know that the British are still in India, because recently it has been said at public meetings that the British have lost the war and gone home.
Founded on Fear Page 20