The next 4 days on the ship were cruel, at night it was bitter cold. There is just enough space for us to sit down on the iron deck, but what is the use, I have on my Battle Dress and it affords me no warmth. I had to scramble about all night. There is no food or drink on board and the small latrine is of absolutely no use to 100's of men. It is your worst nightmare.
On the 5th day we sight England, it took us a long while because the German U-boats chased us off course. By 9am we anchor up in Plymouth Bay, there is no room in the docks, it was 10pm before we get any food on board. Men without units are the last to get anything, it is absolute torture watching the food dished out but a celebration knowing you are getting some soon.
Whilst munching my rations, I look around at the faces of the men. It's a sorry lot they look, some look half crazed and dead. Everyone looks relieved we are in good old England again. I make up my mind there and then that Jerry will never beat these men. They will fight 'til their last breath, just remind them of England and they will pull through. With those thoughts, I tried to sleep in a coil of rope but failed hopelessly.
Somewhere around midnight the engines start up and we are off again...Where to now? We are definitely leaving Plymouth, I wish I could see the coast, I'd feel a lot better.
Dawn finds us within site of the coast at Southampton. As before, the waifs and strays are the last to be seen to but we are now in England so who cares! I mate up with an infantry fellow and we make our way to St.Pancras train station. We had to use the Met line to get from Waterloo and we must have looked a site, we were the object of a lot of stares, but the mood we were in meant we didn't care!
We got the train to Matlock in the North of England, I meet up with some fellows from another Res Coy, the are stationed near my Coy, we then set off for a few miles march to the billets. On arriving, we meet up with the M.S.M who is a pig, after a few words from him i leave him standing, spellbound, I have been through too much to hear rubbish. I report to a Wks Corporal, he is a decent chap, he wakes the A.T.S cooks up and gets them to make me my first meal for days. He also fixes me up with sleeping quarters.
Next post - years in the desert as a rat.
Tuesday 10 July 2007
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4 comments:
Its a good piece of writing, a very vivid recitation.
sometimes i wonder whether physical constraints are worse than mental ones- i know now that they shape each other.
did your grandpa say that those were the best years of his life?
i hope all of us can say so at the end.
oh, thanks for visiting the blog.
This is fascinating. I'll be back when I have a bit more leisure.
As my son-in-law Bill is currently serving in Kuwait....anything about the military touches me very deeply. This is a wonderful project!!~jackie
Thanks Jackie,
It is a shame that Alf is losing his mind a bit right now, I call him Gramps, am flying out to see him next week will try to find out more because we should all know this.
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