Convoy WS 31/KMF.17
Introduction
June/July 1943
Imagine
you are 19. Imagine you are happily at
university but your country is involved in a catastrophic war. Imagine you are in love…..
For a more general account of my father’s
experience in the Second World War, please see http://www.richardpgibbs.org/2013/02/a-war-in-italy.html
but what follows is a diary of his actual experience between June 18th
and August 10th 1943. He had
enlisted in the RAF in September 1942, and was a Radar Technical Officer
attached to a Mobile Signals Servicing Unit with the rank of Flight
Lieutenant. He was barely 19 when he
signed up, but by the following summer he turned twenty in the dust of North Africa,
just three days before the invasion of Sicily .
What
follows is an edited version of the text of a notebook which somehow survived
his travels and the years. Not every
word is decipherable, but, as he would have said, You’ll get the gist…. The
text covers his journey to Algiers aboard USAT
Santa Rosa and then the first few weeks of his experience in North
Africa . It is a remarkably
calm and everyday account of what to us today is extraordinary. Names and events come and go, and have all
now passed into dust, but the words convey a vulnerable determination to cope
with the adversities that life presented then.
The
War in Europe had become a World War in December 1941, and troop convoys to sustain India were necessary, and until the defeat of
the Axis in North Africa the only way was via South Africa . Troop convoys were known as WS (Winston
Specials – which were bound for Asia), KMF (UK to Mediterranean Fast) and later
(after the securing of the Suez Canal) AB (Aden to Bombay) At the time of my father’s voyage the WS and KMF convoys started
together in the Clyde (the only basin large, and safe, enough to hold
sufficient vessels) and then assembled near Oversay before heading into the
Atlantic and then south to where they separated before the KMF units headed for
the Straits of Gibraltar.
F/Lt P C Gibbs was aboard the USAT (formerly SS)
Santa Rosa ,
which had taken its maiden voyage in 1932 (and had been designed by William Francis Gibbs – no relation).
Like many troopships this was built as a commercial liner, and even had
a dining room which could be opened to the sky.
She weighed 9,135 tons, had a top speed of 19 knots and took 2,426
passengers. After the war she was
refitted and went back into cruising service with the Grace Line before being
sold to Greek owners in 1961 (who renamed her Athinai and used her for fortnightly cruises out of Venice before their
arrest following a ferry disaster in 1966).
She then ended her career by playing a bit part in Raise the Titanic before
being broken up in 1988. She was an
elegant ship for her time, and an eye-witness account gave her a glowing
report….. Further down and across the dock, the
Grace Line passenger ship SS Santa
Rosa , also lay waiting. She was painted wartime gray
but she still flaunted her nubile twin funnels, sweeping bow and long,
beautiful lines; She exuded an aura of speed, luxury, and moonlight tropical
nights. The SS Santa Rosa was
sexier than Rita Hayworth in a travel poster...
Convoys were not luxury travel, however. The pace was set to the slowest vessel, which
might have been about 12 knots, and with zig-zag evasive tactics progress was
limited to no more than 250 miles a day, so the voyage from the Clyde to Algiers took nine
days.
Total figures for
troops lifted in troop convoys are not easily calculable, but the ships
involved normally carried between 2,000 and 4,000 troops apiece, which will
give some idea of the effort involved. Furthermore, the convoys were not simply
a transport of soldiers; each WS convoy conveyed a complete military formation
of many thousands of troops plus their personal baggage and equipment, stores,
MT, artillery, armour etc so that the entire force, on arrival, formed a
complete fighting unit at Divisional level. Royal Air Force personnel, in large
numbers, were also lifted both to Egypt
and to India ;
Royal Navy drafts were, at the time of WS convoys, in the minority. The later
KMF convoys, which were to supplement existing formations, tended not to be
accompanied by the MT ships. Overall, it is probable that well in excess of
2,000,000 Servicemen took passage in the WS and KMF convoy sequences between
1940 and 1945.
One surprising fact about these convoys is that
there were remarkably few casualties, though only days after the Santa Rosa
docked in Algiers, on the night of the 11th July, Convoy Faith was
attacked by German Focke-Wulf Condor bombers when three hundred miles off the
Portuguese coast. As a result two
troopships were lost and 115 men perished.
http://www.naval-history.net/xAH-WSConvoys06-1943.htm
has the detail of my father’s convoy:
Sailing in company with KMF 17, the convoy
assembled off Oversay 21.6.43 as below:
11L
|
21L
BRITANNIC
|
31C
|
12C
J
|
22C
CRISTOBAL
|
32L
|
23L
SILVERTEAK
|
33A
TAMAROA
|
being KMF 17 forming columns 1 to 3.
41C
STRATHEDEN
|
51C
GEN
GEORGE W GOETHALS
|
61L
CITY
OF
|
42C
JOHN
ERICSSON
|
52L
RANGITIKI
|
62L
CLAN
MACAULAY
|
43C
CLAN
MACARTHUR
|
being WS 31 forming columns 4 to 6.
Commodore of the
joint convoys, and WS 31, was in STRATHEDEN, Vice Commodore of WS 31 in
RANGITIKI.
When the convoys
divided on 26.6, WS 31 retained the same formation, numeration becoming columns
1 to 3.
Escort from Oversay
to 26.6 was the cruiser UGANDA and
destroyers ARROW, BLANKNEY, BLENCATHRA, BRECON, BRISSENDEN, HAMBLEDON, LEDBURY,
MENDIP, VICEROY, WALLACE, WITHERINGTON and WOOLSTON relieved from Gibraltar by
AMAZON, BLACKMORE, BULLDOG and FOXHOUND which escorted to Freetown where the
convoy arrived 4.7.43. French armed merchant cruiser QUERCY joined on 1.7 for Freetown .
The second half of
this diary concerns my father’s efforts to use his skills and training in the
field. The Northwest African Coastal Air Force (NACAF)
had been created in January 1943 at the Casablanca
conference (following the successful invasion of Morocco
and Algeria
by British and American forces in November 1942) and was under the command of
Air Vice-Marshal Sir Hugh Lloyd.
However, as F/Lt P C Gibbs tells it was not all plain sailing……
There
are light moments! One of the references
that may need explanation these days is to Fred Karno’s Army. A popular song of the time explains:
We are Fred
Karno's Army,
What bloody use are we?
We cannot fight, we cannot shoot,
So we joined the infantry.
But when we get to Berlin ,
The Kaiser he will say,
"Hoch! Hoch! Mein Gott,
What a jolly fine lot
Are the ragtime infantry!"
We are Fred Karno's Army,
A Jolly lot are we,
Fred Karno is our Captain,
Charlie Chaplin our O.C.
But when we get to Berlin ,
The Kaiser he will say,
"Hoch! Hoch! Mein Gott,
What a jolly fine lot
Are the boys of company C!"
We are Fred Karno's Army,
What bloody use are we?
We cannot fight, we cannot shoot,
So we joined the infantry.
But when we get to Berlin ,
The Kaiser he will say,
Hoch! Hoch! Mein Gott,
What a jolly fine lot
Are the ragtime infantry!"
The
very first page of the notebook has been torn out, and then there are eight
pages of various jottings, then another page is missing. Among the notes are:
Rations from NAAFI
4
|
tins P.A.
|
White
|
2
|
tins P.A.
|
Moor
|
7
|
2’s biscuits
|
|
2
|
Pastilles
|
Broadbridge
|
2
|
Riley
|
|
2
|
Gibbs
|
|
2
|
Peps
|
Riley
|
40
|
Players
|
|
1 Carton
|
||
“
|
||
6
|
Matches
|
Carl
|
Choc.
|
Friday, June 18th
0400
We crack with the dawn. Last Blackpool breakfast 0430.
0515. On parade 0645. Steam out
of B.pool 1030 (by train – Ed.) Carlisle
feeds us like lords on meat pies and tea.
1445 Gourock. Scotland having waved us on our way we board the
King Edward tender for the Santa
Rosa .
W.V.S. do great work with scones.
Berthed
in A20 with 3 medical types, Riley, Snelling and Shapiro, two other tech types
from Canada ,
Carl Roach Broadbridge, an Art Dawson and Engineer Moor. We have our first American meal this evening
and thoroughly enjoy ourselves on tomato salad, soup with ‘noodles’ real white
bread, apple pie and apples. Trouble is
no more food till 7 a.m. tomorrow. This
two meal a day racket is no piece of cake.
The
C.O. introduces himself in the men’s black hole – S/Ldr Forbes Mitchell or
versa vice. Seems a vigorous type and
fosters a good ‘up the R.A.F.’ spirit.
Sleep
comes easily this night after a very long day.
These
bunk gaffs are quite nifty
Wrote
green envelope mail for the family, Ann (WAAF
Anna McMullin, later to become Mrs Gibbs – Ed.), & the Aunts.
Saturday 0600
First
conscious thoughts. Food! & oh boy what food. Fruit juice, cornflakes, white toasted bread
& do we stuff.
Washing
is the problem as though there is so much H2O about there’s not a
drop to drink or wash in. Doing the daily chores is relief from the unchanging
view. A final inspection of the ship was
threatened & we stood by for one hour but no one arrives to praise our
little floating home.
We
think about food & make wishful orders for stores but at 1400 panic
starts. Very shaky fire drills &
boat drills are held. Maybe it’s good
for morale not to bid too much about these things but it is obvious that boat
& fire stations should be more clearly defined.
More
bodies come aboard & in the evening time naval RAF & U.S. launches fuss
around. Movement is in the air, &
sure enough at approx 2030 we weigh anchor & break up a pontoon game just
to watch Clyde side slipping by.
The
weather today was iffish & I’m glad, as to see those hills, in their full
glory of sunshine & shadow, fade out of recognition would I think have been
hard.
Tonight
we have to sleep fully dressed but that’s not difficult for me even though it
is my first night at sea.
Sunday Again 0600 first thoughts food & again what food! Grapefruit, two eggs & bacon gives the
inner man something to work on.
On
deck at 0800 we find we are steaming well within sight of Ireland & Scotland , in line ahead, due North.
Destroyers
start dashing in amongst us & the convoy fans out & as we turn N.W.
meets another section steaming south.
Cruisers & planes appear giving confidence.
My
confidence sinks with the contents of my stomach.
A
strong swell set in & by 1300 I was decidedly dicky. Singing hymns in the Yank manner relieved the
situation slightly.
1600
Dinner
1605
No dinner
Should
have been clapped in irons for leaving trail over the side!
1610
Bed
2000 Test of sea legs again. Found wanting.
2030 Bed with a
rumour that the clocks are to be changed during the night.
Consequently
we wake on Monday 21st at
0457. The dawn looks good & we find
we are sailing due west. Back to bed as
the sea legs are still a trifle bandy.
But at 0700 a good breakfast is well & truly sunk. This Yank system of a pep cup of fruit juice
is certainly tasty.
We
are now sailing south west with about ten other ships & fourteen destroyers
& a cruiser possibly County
Class. Of my cabin mates White is still icky, Alex
Shapiro is still horizontal & Doc Snelling is fighting hard but doesn’t
give in. Mental attitude towards this
sickness has a great bearing on one’s condition. The Docs have their theories of course:
pressure on the stomach, solid food & little liquid.
The
conversation varies from medicinal binding of a tropical type to another type
of which we need say little. Dinner
of boiled chicken. A cinema show in the
evening. The 8th time I’ve
seen Broadway
Melody of 1940, but this time has more romance than any previous.
Clocks
are set forward one hour to compensate for westward travel. Consequently we lose an hour’s sleep but
still rise at 0645 on Tuesday June 22nd
to take a cup of grapefruit juice & a Mepacrine tablet which is due at the
end of five days to turn us yellow (Mepacrine
was given to counter malaria - Ed.)
The
morning doesn’t promise much but the sky becomes cloudless & the sea deep
blue by midday when we are sailing. A
whale is reported off the starboard bow by a M.O. Major – U.S. Army. Personally I have no confirmation of this to
offer and hae ma doots. One or two sound bird types are seen during
the day, however, including a gull & a Sunderland .
The
black ball is hoisted at the mast head & a destroyer does one or two
vicious curves while the convoy zigs to starboard & zags to port all
evening general direction now being S & slightly east of S.
Gambling,
it is laid down, is strictly taboo.
There’s a pleasant chink of cash from all over the ship & we’re no
exception. A Yank gunner from Illinois shows us
how….. A ship’s band sends strains of
syrupy modern sentiment & jumping jive ricocheting over the wilful waters.
Thought
for the day by an old sea dog (just weaned) This
motion is positively binding…..
We
go to bed rather forcibly reminded that this is no pleasure cruise as at
sundown two of the destroyer escort suddenly turn tail & waterspouts form
where depth charges are dropped.
During
the night we run into a long swell & our tub behaves like a dancer from her
native land & her whole body sways with a most exciting motion!
Wednesday June 23rd
This
is now becoming a routine: - eat, sleep,
sit, eat, sleep. Little activity means
little to report. Two Liberators are
over during the morning & the captain looses off a few rounds for no reason
at all at nothing in particular. Boat
drill is uneventful.
Thursday June 24th
A
vast inspection is carried our & as a consequence the whole ship is in
disgrace. Men confined to quarters until
there is sufficient cleaning done to make the place ship-shape. Otherwise an uneventful day save that orders
are issued for the wearing of K.D. (Khaki
Drill – Ed.), censorship of mail & changing of currency. We are apparently nearing the end of our
trip.
I
see a film (in company with several others!) Almost Married. An almost novel plot with come almost novel
humour. Almost top-hole!
I
read The
Great American Novel by Clyde Davis.
A diary of a would-be journalist & novelist, it has some interesting
passages re dreams. My ideas & Mr
Davis’s seem at times similar, especially re his ‘girl friend.’
Sun
sets at about 2200 hrs.
Friday June 25th
Sees
me O.O (received wisdom suggests this is Orderly Officer, thanks John – Ed.) in company
with brother Broadbridge F/O R.C.A.F. ‘Chow’ inspection seems to be our main
bind. I regret to have to remark that
the average individual’s keenness for cleanliness must be pretty low judging by
some of the bodies I witnessed today.
The
convoy splits at about 1700 hrs; we now steam N.W. (it seems that PCG may have got his bearings wrong here, and perhaps
elsewhere: they should have been steaming east at this point! Ed.) hoping to sight Gib. At any moment;
the others steam south and have the hell of a distance to go.
Letters
to Johns B, & St A & H, T.O., D.E.F. despatched. Screeds to Ann & home under way.
We
see our first fishes. Could be porpoises
or sharks.
A
fine dinner of pork which following the steak of the 25th makes us
appreciate Chinese cooking.
Rumours
are rampant concerning passage through the straits. Gib. However is hidden from us by the shades
of night as we slip by apparently at 0100 on Saturday June 26th when we rise as usual & eat, as
usual, a very good breakfast. The breakfast
takes half the morning & the rest we spend getting gen on
disembarkation. Last English cash
turning in for exchange.
The
guns have fun during the morning pooping off all manner of projectiles, shells,
rockets & parachutes. Cabin A 20
looks like a tailor’s shop in the afternoon, pro. tem. adjustments being made
ad. lib.
June 27th
For
no reason at all this day turns out to be one of the most memorable in this
history. Rising at 0600 we flap into
washing, packing, & skivvying before breakfast at 0700. The African hills are within view before
breakfast but I don’t get my view, a pretty dim one at that, until after the
meal. The mountain outline looks pretty
foreboding as it pokes through the cloud.
Panic
starts at about midday when it’s very hot.
The coastline then rather suddenly comes into full view, white
flat-roofed houses, palms & pines.
It now looks not foreboding but attractive…
The
convoy breaks into line ahead & zig zags violently for hours. The heat is terrific & we spend the time
(a) scrounging food (b) sitting in the cabin eating, (c) just waiting.
Actually
the three Docs & I go on the forbidden sun-deck & watch events. The dock is crowded with all manner of craft
& we pass an outgoing Yank invasion convoy.
Santa Rosa docks at about 1530 near Britannic & Cristobal.
We’re
nearly last to leave the ship, however, Britannic being half empty before we
start.
Quayside
native labourers help to while away the slowly passing hours; one does his own
inimitable can-can for a small tip, which I suppose we now call baksheesh, & ceegarette.
When
we finally debark the fun really begins.
Once more we form the good old threes again, Wing Co & S/L’s to the
fore & valiantly march off the dockside into the unknown. And Fred Karno’s Army in ranks wouldn’t have
looked more à la mode. We are to impress the natives we are
told. We do with the fact that the
British are still a nation of shop keepers for I’m sure the uninitiated would
fondly imagine we’re either a troupe of commercial travellers or shipwrecked
survivors.
1
hr sees us somewhere near the smell of the dockside & still no RAF camp in
view. We pass Guards regiments &
they counter-pass us when we wilt under the strain. Passing transport is always very polite to
us. Soldiers even cheer us. But the Yanks pass us in cold silent
superiority.
2
hrs see us there. First rude
awakenings. Destination DD doesn’t mean
a thing. Posting to A.M.E.S 895 (Air Ministry Experimental Station – Ed.)
scrapped. Now 304 M.S.S.U. (Mobile Signals Servicing Unit – Ed.)
A
tented camp is now our home & Oh Ma
am I going to miss your apple pie. I
live on a second storey bunk in a marquee with all the bad (?) types. Moor is still
with me. What should be wonderful grub isn’t so wonderful. Some of the types binge till a.m. on June 28th when big things
are expected. Instead we get a pay-book
issued. Apart from that a visit to
sample Algiers
in the evening. Le vin blanc revives the fainting spirit slightly mais nous sommes très fatigués.
I
go to Philippeville perhaps some day? The
types also visit Algiers
& pickle when they return, till a.m.
Tuesday June 29th
This
day we are officially posted. Then I am
summonsed with others to the august presence of A.V.M. H.P. Lloyd –
Hughie-Pughie –
who
passes the buck to some S/Ldr S.P.O. type who in turn plays the old game &
passes me on to Wing Co Swinney who is full of either the joy of life or vin français. A very pleasant type who suggests I stay at
H.Q. pending re-shuffle but finally decides P.Ville.
I
scrounge grub having drunk at the Hotel Aletti, and been refused at Le Paris,
at the mess of the Base Censors’ Office.
Wednesday June 30th
This
camp is a bad spot. The organisation
bad, hygiene bad, dysentery rife among the troops – in short, no bar. This question of hygiene is to be watched
however. The food is average but such
things as bread are not dealt with correctly.
Bread cut is left lying in supposedly fly-proof covers which are in fact
inefficient. The cooking is up to
scratch but presumably unimaginative on account of lack of variety.
No
movements yet. I raise shirts &
socks & mug at stores.
Exploration
of Algy l’après-midi reveals
little. Shops are practically empty;
what is there is, if one wishes to buy, Il
a défendu, m’sieur; il veut les pointes. The military are also defended from buying vins or any refreshments before 1700
hrs.
I
go with White to Astaire and Rogers of old in a flick I don’t recognise under
its French title. Dix francs. Then we trek to
the edge of the native quarter. Natives
peddling all things from fruit to baked meats.
It smells!
At
night we hear the tale of The Sphinx. This sex business is a shaky do.
More
Pickling.
Thursday July 1st
Breakfast
not so bad. 0900 parade. No gen.
Mail censored. Washing done. Airgraphs written. Felt a wee bit dicky so didn’t exert myself
all day. Drank pints of liquid. Sweated them out again. The south-west dust-laden wind is here today
& it’s bloody awful. In the evening
it clears though and we visit Hussein Dey, village of, for a French
shampoo. A haircut. Very nice too. All for 25 Fr. Then we examine the village
& find good Mouscatel wine, coffee, & an Arab pedlar who is beaten down
by Sherwood & a little influence on my part from 450 to 225 for a
hand-bag!
We
find Doc Riley later giving les enfants
rides on a roundabout. Drunk sailors ask
us to show us the way home. They had had
it poor devils!
I
have moved to a three tent with F/O King, a cobber, & P/O Smallwood, a controller
type. Welsh Wales is saluted in Tent J till the early hours & I still don’t
sleep till late. Moor & Jim McGibbon, Niblett & one or two others have
gone.
Friday July 2nd
Rise,
feel better, breakfast. 0900
parade. No gen. Censor mail.
Still letters written on the boat.
If only these erks had
sense. Some write very nice letters but
others give away most elementary security information.
Write
airgraphs. Go to Algy & inspect the
bigger stores. Bon Marché, Monoprix & Primavine. Et je trouve rien du tout….
Sat. Jul 3.
No
gen. Mail censored. Decide to get organised. Visit M.U. 351 & discover have just
missed truck to Pville. One may be able
to take me. Then I crack round town
visiting Air Transport, Base Movements, & thank my lucky stars I don’t get
a strip torn off by S/Ldr o/c. He
instead puts me on to ASR people at NACAF (Northwest
African Coastal Air Force – Ed.)
Contact the Admiral there who
suggests vague possibility of trip to Bone.
In evening contact C.O. of boats who says Call again Monday.
Walk
to Kouba Oasis with King in evening et
nous trouvons rien du tout except a haze on top of the hill which dims a
splendid view.
Sun Jul 4.
Little
to indicate it is Sunday although somehow I sense it more than usual. No gen.
Relax all day. Sunbathe
carefully. Walk along beach in the
evening & find French men & women at fun in tents. Vast ammo train explosion at Maison Carrée
(at El Harrach – Ed.) Prisoners escape
& camp guarded.
Letter
to Ann.
Mon Jul 5th
Still
no gen so contact 351 M.U. again & find LAC Barrow – Les – can take me to St Charles which is
estimated to be some 20 miles from P.ville.
Arrange to get cracking 0800 tomorrow.
During
afternoon chase mail at APO . They suggest contact 895. Docks at Algy an impressive sight.
Meet
Carl, Art, Jack et un autre outside
the Officers’ Club which cannot accept
further applications today.
painting by Mitchell Jamieson |
Return to camp & relax pending movement.
Tuesday Jul. 6th
We’re
on our way by nearly 0900, and bravely head out for Settif. This
Goddam Afric certainly is some spot.
I boil. Nancy , our wagon, doesn’t feel well
& her pulling to is very poor.
Arab
egg sellers en route are given the
indicative V sign. We stop at some
wayside café for Mouscatel, but apart from that nothing to report save stop for
ropey lunch. Next stop where a half
native Scotsman filches tomatoes for us & we buy apples. Meanwhile tanks filled. Put in at a café in Mançur where we drink
Mouscatel & converse with supposedly French lad who speaks very good
English.
Bathing
in the local water supply is very refreshing; the coolest water I’ve yet felt.
Then
we organise sleeping accommodation at the ‘French’ lad’s house. Shaken frigid when we learn he is an Arab of
the highest caste. We are very well
entertained by him, Aziz, his brother, Cadour, a French boy, George, & un autre petit garço, l’ami du Cadour. We eat, cheese & biscuits & Spam
& have a good cup of tea & some Arab coffee.
Finally
we are told his sister wishes to be presented which Les thinks is the shakiest
performance ever, considering Arab customs.
An aperitif is provided by a
display of her various costumes & also those of some of her ancestors. Jealousy is awakened in me on behalf of all
English girls especially when a diamond studded veste is produced.
Then
the Queen of Algerian Araby appears & Les quakes: I too am
dumb-struck. We converse, but the
atmosphere is strained: the poor girl is very shy & we don’t make it
easier. She is shortly to be married but
we can’t get much ‘gen’ on that.
Bed
at 0100 on My birthday, July 7th.
July 7th
Awake
most of the night & try to get cracking early but we are entertained to
breakfast by Aziz, eggs & coffee. We
finally move at about 0900 and make Settif about lunch time where we get plum
duff & tea from ‘Rocky’.
Then
began the long climb out of Constantine
up to 2000 or more feet.
Arrive
at St Charles
& it’s not long before I’m picked up by a brown truck which takes me to
P.ville where I contact a Captain Hamilton RASC (Royal Army Service Corps), who takes great trouble in contacting
MSSU (Mobile Signals Servicing Unit)
for me. Arrive at unit about 2000 hrs
& contact P/O Crews who feeds me & shows me how all the comforts of
home can be laid on. Spaight the batman
is introduced.
July 8th
An
introductory tour of the camp. W/O
Barker, F/Sgt Martin give me the gen. Ce soir the C.O. F/Lt Wright
returns. A business like air about him.
July 9th
I
go to Bone to pay the detachment there.
W/O Barker, F/Sgt Hartley & Sgt Goodacre show me how to get well
& truly dug in. Stalk (M/T) cooks
& cooks well.
They
mess in a barn which is decorated in the manner of Cherchez la femme.
To
Duzerville. Contact S/Ldr Lewis. A tour of Bone completes the journey. We return over the hills, by-passing St Charles . A tortuous route; the engineer must have had
a twisted mind.
July 10th
An
ENSA show is the day’s highlight & very high too. The company are depleted by the ravages of
disease and injury but some RASC boys make the show: one ‘Lofty’ Jimmy Day is a highspot. We entertain les jolies dames to tea & very nice too. They are accompanied by a C.S.M. as
chaperone.
July 11th
Sunday
& I still notice the atmosphere. I
am O.O. everybody’s stooge. Afternoon I
sunbathe & write A.M. (Anna McMullin
– Ed.) & then visit 389 MRU to investigate W/T failure with C.O.
Mon. 12th
Weekly
inspection: a thorough do. Then we visit
389 & bathe in the Med. Deliciously
salty. In afternoon met F/Lt M Olfman of
8003 & inspected station. A shaky
set up.
To
tea & to my surprise, Goffins (possibly
a colleague from Canvey
Island – Ed.). This was a great do to be able to reminisce
about the joys of the island.
I
write Ann in the evening shooting the full line of good news.
Tues 13th
Really
start work & what happens? Movement
is organised to form 1 RDF Service Section c/o 892 AMES Djidjelli (Modern Jijel – Ed.) So we organise a move in something under six hours
& arrive at Taher at 2030. First impression not to be trusted.
Wed 14th
Waiting
for Claydon; F/O Warnes shows me the set-up; meet Elliot & Glaze. See Djidjelli. Go scrumping grapes and to flicks: Desert
Victory in the evening- a flat do.
Thursday 15th
F/Lt
Claydon arrives. & blows off
steam. Seems a forceful type. Go eating in the soir to the Casino. Meet Doc
Field Lt USAMC, a useful type. A natter
develops about V.D. & then becomes the total annihilation of the
Jerries. Glaze for erase.
Friday 16th
Strip. Volkswagen.
Mess in Yanks place. Swim.
Sat. 17th
The
work progresses as junk arrives. I
natter with the farm foreman having scrounged wine from him hier soir.
The
general atmosphere of 892 is strange but the men seem happy. But to be told to fuck off and get spoons is not the way to address a batman even
though slow.
Earth
closets are lazy sanitary seats – dig holes wherever possible. The Yank mess
kit cleaning should be adopted universally as here.
Sun 18th
Still
feel it is Sunday but there is work to be done.
Watch French at play while we work.
Their motto C’est la guerre is
too typical of their Ca ne fait rien
attitude.
Power
line approx 2000 yds completed. Volts
drop no more than 15 on 2½ amp load.
(230v single phase of 20 KVA Lister).
Cable is 12 strand 18 gauge copper.
Capacity effect? Giving voltage
reading between live supply & ‘grounded’ cable.
All
set to go. So on Monday 19th
we go via Bougie (now Béjaïa – Ed.)
to Port Gueydon (now Azeffoun – Ed.)
tp 8006 where we are entertained by a wild looking specimen who, poor devil,
broke his pelvis on The Windsor Castle (At
0202 on March 23rd, 1943, K.M.F.11 was attacked by torpedo aircraft about 60
miles W.N.W. of Algiers. The Windsor Castle , 19,141 tons, carrying 2,500
troops, was torpedoed,and sank. One life
was lost – Ed.)
A
good impression of the camp is obtained but technically he fair looks as though
mauled about. F/Lts Sanderson &
Joyce introduced. Then on via Dellys, a
bright spot, to Algy the Albert (which
may mean the Albert Hotel in Algiers –
which was to be the US
Embassy – Ed.)
20th
Then
begins a very long wait, spent largely in churning out yards of bunff.
Big business to start with churning out vast quantities of A.P. 1914
re-scheduled for RSS’s. Takes 2 or 3
days with the able assistance of Cpl Covington USAAC & LAC Selby, much
sought after clerk G.D. And so on Sunday July 25th the Wing Co
asks me what I’m doing; so I tell him and he says, O.K. we’ll fix that, and he does.
I
lead a semi-hermit like existence writing doleful letters home and
elsewhere. There is no joie de vivre except across the way on
the balcony opposite. But as usual I
have not the brazen confidence necessary.
Success in life seems to depend largely on the possession of full
self-confidence and ability to act with complete disregard for anybody’s
feelings, even your own. This may seem
very obvious but if one records these feelings when they strike one so forcibly
one may at a later date look back and laugh.
Very simply it hinges on this. To
be of real use with regard to general welfare an influential position is
naturally helpful and to gain that position self-advancement is essential. The main difficulty of course is that in
self-advancement one tends to get so absorbed in the matter that the higher
ideal is generally lost from sight in clouds of ruthless dealing and continuous
hard driving which has dulled the senses.
After
that digression week beginning Mon 26th
passes uneventfully but a good deal more pleasantly. Carl Roach turns up, F/Lt (Ha) Moss is met
and we have a fairly gay time, especially at the Franco-Plage on Wednesday. Ca va
bien, when I walk Arlette home. We
go flicks several times & I begin to make contacts in the mess which all
helps to make life easier. A Canadian
F/O Beau Sprache shares my room: a good bloke.
Then on Sunday 1st Aug
I miss my date because the ruddy equipment is ready and there’s the dickens of
a shambles in getting it off. F/Lt
Anderson (N.Z. 351 M.U.) is helpfully sympathetic. S/L Scorfie (same joint) is bluntly pointed that
he’s finished and S/L Mair’s patience is exhausted. F/Sgt Burr & Buckley however proceed on
Sunday to No 2. F/Sgt Cox by air on
Monday to No 1. The vehicles turn up
this day & I organise driving permit, drivers & then prepare to depart Tuesday at 0830. We leave at 1100 and this being my first 15
cwt Dodge African drive ever we waste no time & don’t spare the gear box.
Sgt
Wilkins, Cpl Dawes & two LACs complete the convoy. We make Bougie at 0430 the only troubles
being two blocked petrol feeds. Then on
to our little café with the oh so charming little English girl Adrienne
Green. Wizard cups of tea and Spam &
jam sandwiches. A charming spot is
this. Then we go on & swim en route,
reaching Taher about 2100 in time to organise some grub and room for the
night. And so on Wednesday we get cracking, F/Sgt Cox doing all the work. Sgt Harely, F/Sgt Martin & Wood E/Asst
complete the gang.
8020
are there & have to be refitted.
F/O
Sheridan & F/Lt Trett seem a decent pair.
Glaze is still tom Glaze & Elliot Bob Elliot. Warnes seems steadily to be soaking.
Well
then the bombshell. Tommie Glaze is
posted to 8620 so with the month’s ration of whisky just in there is every
excuse for a binge Thurs; the night
is far spent & spent badly by the morning when we retire.
Things
seem to be working swell at the R.S.S.
Customers begin to call, even a mast crashes for our benefit. S/O Shipton & Woodhead have a grand crowd
& a grand swimming pool. P/O Civil
is as his name implies a very pleasant type.
More bodies arrive. F/Sgts
Curtis& Webster – Diesel Mech Elects 1.
A visit to Settif with Sgt Wilkins is grand.
The
Arab kids on the way with their confusion over zig-zag certainly have their
wits about them. We call in at
Adrienne’s again & have a wizard salad.
F/Sgt
Cox moves off east on Monday & a
signal comes telling me to move west on Tuesday
(9th August 1943 – Ed.)
Sorry,
very sorry, to go but we have a smashing trip.
Adrienne, the misses Sinclair & Clark’s place in Yakouren being the
high-spots, all due to whetstone Sid F/Sgt.
I
discover on return that in Mair’s opinion I am not a good type for the
job. I
shall bring the name of the R.S.S. into disrepute. Bitterness about it is the host feeling &
then slow burning apathy & then a more sensible, almost what the hell! outlook. Bad I know but then what the hell.
And
a night in Algy with F/Sgt W: then off again with Claydon to Djid via 8002’s
new site. What a site! A good Arab meal in Tizi & a wizard AMES tea at 8002 make the
ride enjoyable
& By the way first mail from home
Ann (Bless her)
& Mum (Thank God for her too!)
(And I wonder if Dawson still owes dad 10d? - Ed.)
Many thanks for information and pictures gleaned from the Internet - If I have neglected to give credit where due, please let me know and I will amend accordingly.
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