The Virtual Pub
Come Inside... => The Library => Topic started by: Nick on July 31, 2009, 08:27:25 AM
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My dad was born in 1919 and was called up in 1939. He had spent all his life in Leicester until then and now found himself in S Africa, North Africa, Italy and, later, Normandy. He was with REME. He kept a diary. I saw it years ago when my mum died and we were clearing out her house. My big sis snaffled it and it vanished from view. Until yesterday.
She has had my great niece typing it out and it is coming in instalments. Amazing stuff. A window into my 20 year old dad's mind as he finds himself (in this instalment) in Cairo. He writes well too, which is a huge surprise. I see him in quite a different light now to the old buffer I remember(he was in his 40s before I really registered him and by then he had had two brain hemorrhages and was not what he had been).
Anyone fancy a few excerpts?
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That would be much appreciated. happy088
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A short extract for late 1942
Harris and I looked at the Empire Services Club for a trip up the Nile to the Delta Barrage on Wednesday. Wishing to keep the Sabbath like good boys we made our way to St Andrews Church of Scotland not far from our digs. On our way there we dropped into a ?low dive? caf? for a cup of tea which was run by a very elderly Polish woman, after weighing us up carefully for some time she finally asked ?if we wanted anything?. To her disappointment we politely declined this offer and beat a hasty retreat for the Church. We were surprised to find this packed and the congregation overflowing out into the gardens surrounding the building listening to the service through loudspeakers. We were able to find two seats inside however, and enjoyed the service, the organ and the singing all of which almost made us think we were at home. Strangely enough the padre who conducted the service had until recently been stationed in Amerea and I had spoken to him several times when at the Social Hour at the Y.M.C.A. on Sunday evenings. The night was still young when we left so wishing to take full advantage of our short leave we went to the pictures and saw ??Adam had four sons? and ?The Face behind the Mask?. So ended the evening of the First Day.
5/10/42
We thought it a good idea to see if the Pyramids were still there, but after a very long wait for a tram, we gave it up, as several had passed us overflowing in the usual Egyptian manner, with dozens clinging to the sides, riding on the buffers and the running boards, I often wondered why they didn?t ride on the roof of these Cairo trams. We wandered through the shopping centre and I bought Ann some socks. Our luck was out today apparently, for after making our way to the Museum of Hygiene we discovered this was closed today because it was some Mohammedan festival day or something. After relaxing on our lily white, soft beds in the afternoon, we went up to the district of the native bazaars again, and walked round a few streets and alleys we shouldn?t have done. An Egyptian cafe attracted us and as we sat having ?shay??, we watched the ?East? go by, camels, Arabs, herds of goats, and so on ad lib. while over the wireless came the weird Mohammedan call the prayer, (that?s what Harris said it was) making the whole street ring with its eerie note. Leaving here, although it was dusk we walked slowly though the streets round the silhouette of the Citadel which reared above us. Passing many little shops and stalls, each one with some particular point of interest we came to one place which gave us an unusual spectacle, that of macaroni being made. The process consisted of pouring the ?batter? (for want of a better or correct name) from a tine pierced with small holes, though which it ran on to a circular metal plate about 5 feet dai., which was heated by a coke fire underneath. The result was that the think streams of batter immediately set in long strings which were then stacked in the window for sale. A little further along the road we came upon a pastry shop displaying the most delicious cakes which proved too much of a temptation for us, so we went in and ate half a dozen and washed down with some Egyptian style tea, with lemon and no milk. Harris and I had arranged to go to some Egyptian pictures as we had heard good reports of their unusual characteristics, so after cleaning up at our ?digs? we repaired to the ?Studio El-Mizra? and there we saw the local ?heart-throb?, (a greasy looking individual with a sickly grin and the usual fez and tarboush). It was all Arabic of course and we were only able to pick up an occasional word or two, but we followed the story alright and after a time I discovered the weird native music to have a peculiar fascination, it didn?t conform to the orthodox European style of music and went up an down the scales in a queer rhythm and with many waves, but it had a spellbinding effect on me, much the same as African war drums would be expected to have. The songs were accompanied by some wind and stringed instruments which were difficult to recognise, although the violin and I think, oboe, played a principal part. The methods of wooing and love making were rather slower and more serious than ours and consisted of singing lots of love-songs and making reserved caresses. However we finally saw the young couple in bed together, so we concluded everything in the garden (or bed) was lovely. It was 12.30 when heralded with much clashing of cymbals the Wog National Air was played, to which we stood respectfully to attention, the only ?Askari Englezi? there, I think.
I am not sure you'd be allowed to say 'The Wog national Anthem' these days
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Brilliant! happ096
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Episode 2: In which my dad finds out about polygamy
. A very clever Arabic conjuror or Magician entertained us on the lawn outside, he did several tricks for us, including one where he opened his mouth, whereupon three young chickens popped out and stated pecking on the grass. After which the chicks mysteriously found their way inside a soldiers shirt, along with a snake about 2 feet long which was promptly withdrawn. After a further look round at the locks and the barrage, we boarded the boat at 1.30and commenced our return trip. This was somewhat slower than our trip out, partly as we were heading against the strong current and partly because the excursion was not scheduled to finish until 5p.m which caused our guide to pick an erratic course from one bank to the other. This enabled us however, to enjoy the close proximity of the luxurious grasses and vegetation, behind which stretched the cotton fields and other crops. It was apparently time for afternoon prayers as we could see many of the agricultural workers standing facing the sun or kneeling down with their heads on the ground.If we professing Christians were half as devout as the average Mohammedan we would be a vastly better race. A large two masted Falouka had a race with us part of the way, and owing to it?s vast sail area and a following breeze, was able to overtake us and pass us quite easily, much to our chagrin.
Soon we could see on the horizon in front , the outlines of the buildings of Cairo, dominated by the spires and domes of the Citadel and the Mohammed Aly Mosque, while to our right, was the unique outline of the Pyramids of Giza. During the next hour before we arrived back, we had an interesting chat with our Dragoman guide. He had been employed by Cooks for some years before the War, and had accompanied many auspicious visitors to Egypt on various trips. Most interesting though was his narrative on his private life. It appeared he had 3 wives. The Mohammedans may have as many as they wish, providing they are able to support them all. They marry very young [the girls at least] and when the seeking male finds a suitable girl, he first has to approach the girls father and start negotiations. If everything turns out according to plan, the husband presents the father with a sum of money or several goats or sheep. After the marriage the bride is provided with many presents, such as furniture, clothes etc. so in effect the husband receives back what he has given and perhaps more from his wife?s family. Each wife must have a separate house and all must be treated equally. One may be kept just for ornament, while the others perform the functions of propagation. Should the husband die the responsibility of all the household falls on the shoulders of the eldest son. But most important of all, all the wives must be looked after and well cared for. It is a great sin in their eyes for a man to neglect his wives [or to steal another man?s wife] whish they call Adultery [strangely] . If one of the wives has been unfaithful I believe the husband is entitled to kill her, or at least throw her out. Naturally, the boys wanted to go deeper into the matter and we gathered that the more intimate relations were shared by the wives for a week at a time. A very complicated business altogether.
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Cracking stuff; his very own Road to Oxiana.
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It is reminiscent. I am waiting for his account of El Alamein to arrive
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Nice for you to have the opportunity to discover your father. This is what I find so fascinating about family history. You suddenly get to know people you thought you knew and see them in a very different light.
Wait for my book eveilgrin: in which I tell all.
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ALL eeek:
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This is excellent stuff Nick.
I spent a lovely weekend with a friend in Buckinghamshire just over a year ago, she had letters which we spent trying to decipher. The were from a member of her family who had gone to the Windward Isles to manage a plantation, paper was in short supply and so the letter would go back and forth with the answer being written in a different direction.
It was very evocative but a pig of a job the vat's of wine helped though.
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ALL eeek:
All! ~ No blushes will be spared, not even my own.
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Thoroughly enjoyable.
If there is enough would you think about getting it printed properly Nick ?
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Thoroughly enjoyable.
If there is enough would you think about getting it printed properly Nick ?
Nick's Dad's War Diaries? The Virtual Pub 2009 whistle:
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I shall hurl my Manpoon? at you eveilgrin:
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eeek:
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eeek: eeek: eeek: eeek:
(Don't worry BM ~ he'll have to find it first.)
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18/10/42
I saw Brackenbury today, who had just returned from leave in Cairo, where he had met Colin Bellam. The news he gave me came as a great shock. Trevor Anderson had been killed in action It brought home to me, for perhaps the first time, how easily we, at times, forget we were so close to death. Trevor, the carefree happy-go-lucky fellow of about 22, who, along with Colin had been such good friends of mine on our voyage.
It seemed difficult to realise at first that he didn?t exist any more. After I had pondered on it for a while and then inevitably cursed this bloody war with all my heart, I wrote, as best I could to Colin, who, I understood had been wounded.
22/10/42
The Colonel addressed us this lunchtime and gave us General Montgomery?s message to the Eighth Army. The big push, for which we have been waiting so long, is to commence tonight at 10p.m. This is the first time in history, I think, that a commander has told his troops the hour of the attack. Although it did not affect us very much in our position, we did , nevertheless feel some sense of excitement and expectancy. But the night passed without any incident to mar the sleep of the camp.
9/11/42
The battle, as all the world now knows, has gone well for us. I hear that the church bells are to be rung in England in celebration of our victories[a little prematurely I think] The Americans have landed many troops in West and North Africa and it seems at last the tide may be turning in our favour. The Air Force have done splendid work, for the last fortnight we have watched formations of bombers accompanied by fighters cross over our camp about every half hour throughout each day. Most of the other camps round here have moved up, but we are told that we have to stay and clear up. I don?t mind. We are quite content here. I have just sent Gwen a food parcel.
16/11/42
At 8a.m. we said goodbye to our old site. We had packed up the previous day and were formed up, widely dispersed, and ready to move off. Our journey was interesting, only, I think, in as much as we were travelling along one of the busiest, longest and most important roads in the world, the coast road of N. Africa. The scenery was not attractive enough to make it exactly of interest, except occasionally for instance when the road ran over the crest of a range of hills, and we were able to see the Med. To our right and the vast wastes of the desert stretching away into the distance on the left. We enjoyed this view for some time during this morning and at about 3p.m. after having done about 100 miles we parked for the night at Daba. I was travelling as drivers mate in a Dodge recovery truck and I spent an hour or two at the wheel. After passing through El Alamein we witnessed many signs of German and Italian occupation, crashed planes, burnt out lorries and an occasional cemetery marked by small white crosses, some surmounted by a black Maltese cross or a German helmet. We were very hungry most of the journey. Yesterday we had drawn the inevitable bully and biscuits, and this was our only means of sustenance for 2 and a half days apart from the tea our cookhouse made for breakfast, or what we had made ourselves by the roadside in an old tin over a fire made by pouring petrol into a tin of sand.
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Excellent!
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22/11/42
This stage of our journey proved more interesting. We were fairly high up and were able to see for a tremendous distance all around us. Particularly striking and impressive was a huge flat topped plateau which stood some 1000 feet above the rest of the country which was fairly flat and which stretched away to the south until it dwindled into the purple distance probably 50 or more miles away. I thought at first it was the sea on the previous day as it was so level and couldn?t understand why it lay to the south when we were travelling roughly west. The road turned toward the sea and soon a large bay came into sight, backed by the hills rising up the plateau. There at the foot of the hills lay Sollam, marking the border between Egypt and Libya. We passed a road branching off to the left which led through the hills to Halfaya Pass. I thought we were to have gone through here, but after going for a few more miles along the road fringing the bay, I saw the alternative route we were to take. Up above us was a massive headland rising up from the sea and up this zig-zagged our road. As lorries were only allowed through a few at a time, we had to wait for some time and we watched our vehicles among others crawling up the side of the mountain. Our turn came eventually and although we were towing a broken down car, we made it alright with a gear to spare. The gradient averaged i-in-6-8 about, but the several hairpin bends were a bit tricky to negotiate and at times the edge of the road droppes sheer away down to the town below. The view was magnificent, we could see far out to sea and also back the way we had come for a long way. After passing 2or 3 lorries, wrecked or stuck we reached the top at last and passed some barracks on the summit, which had had a lot of holes blown in them. A few miles further on we passed through Ridotta Capuzzo, which was marked by piles of stones which had presumably been buildings at one time. Here too were many graves marked by little white crosses, steel helmets or German crosses. How foolish it seems for so many men to have to die for a country like this which has practically nothing to offer that is useful to humanity, no crops can grow, no water [or very little] and apparently no minerals have been discovered, just hundreds of miles of wilderness, some covered in stones, some dotted with scrub and some just plain sand. Passing through Bardia we had to make a detour to avoid a bridge which had been destroyed by the enemy. From here on the road grew increasingly worse and our speed slowed to around 10 mph. in order to avoid the potholes and ruts and bomb damage. We stopped at sunset about 30 miles from Tobruk.
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Gripping stuff!
Ta Nick.
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10/12/42
The ferocity and speed of the ?big push? has abated somewhat. Our efforts in the workshops seem to have abated too. From what I can gather, at least, production does not seem to have reached the high peak it did in Amerea.I can only attribute this to a general feeling of ?browned-offedness? in the unit together with a certain amount of stagnation. It has been a constant source of amazement to me that the troops out here put as much effort in as they do. We have been literally dragged from our homes, wives, mothers, sweethearts etc., forced into the Army and, to add fuel to the flames, have been brought across thousands of miles of oceans, to a God forsaken country consisiting of 99% of arid desert, some of it even uncharted, and then expected to assist in the destruction of another Army. Made up of men we have never seen personally, and who have most probably been unwillingly forced into it , as we were. How can any intelligent and right thinking man be expected to take a keen interest in such seeming madness.
?When wilt thou save the people O God of Mercy, when? The people Lord, the people, not thrones and crowns, but men. Flowers of thy heart thy children they: let them not pass like weeds away, their heritage a sunless day, God save the people.?
I can only hope that soon, the prayers of millions of people throughout the world will be answered. Although little good is to be derived from this life normally, I believe my character to be improved slightly as a result of it, if it has only made me appreciate , even more, how happy I was with Gwen and baby in Nottingham and how fortunate I was then. Often at odd moments during the day and in the quietness of the now long evenings I let my thoughts travel back to those pleasant days when I would come home in the evenings, and Ann, hearing my bicycle bell would run to meet me with a smile of sunshine on her sweet little face, how we had tea, after which I would take Ann to bed [in later days she would consider it undignified for me to carry her upstairs, but would struggle up laboriously on her own with me following], how we sat afterwards, listening to the wireless, reading or talking. Gwen on one side of the fire, me on the other. I know she often must think of me too, although it would be difficult for her to imagine me in my present surroundings with any degree of accuracy. I know too, that she prays for my safe and speedy return, as I do too. Soon, I hope , our patience will be rewarded and then will come that wonderful reunion which we have tried to visualise so often but failed. I am blessed by having with me always, the memory of the two grandest little women in the world, which assists me in retaining my sanity in this insane world and gives me the courage and faith needed to carry on under these unnatural conditions.
Xmas Day 1942
We have a holiday today, the first for some time. After a service in the morning, held at the North end of the camp and overlooking a wide Waddi beyond which lay the blue Mediterranean [it seemed strange to be singing carols under a warm sun and blue sky amid such un-Christmassy scenery] , I was able to complete some much needed washing and various odd jobs about our ?desert home?. The first Christmas dinner I had in the Army was on quite a grand scale. An extension had been put onto the mess tent for the occasion and after seating ourselves at 3 long rows of tables, our dinner was served to us by our senior N.C.O.s and officers, consisting of Turkey, Pork, sausages, peas ,potatoes and Xmas pudding followed by nuts and oranges. The inevitable beer was provided on the tables before we arrived, one bottle per man. The Colonel read out General Montgomery?s message to the 8th Army and added a few words of his own and then we received a pair of socks or a scarf each and some cigarettes from a comforts fund [a S. African one I believe] . The quality and quantity of the midday meal was sadly offset by the quality of our tea, bread and jam [one slice] and cake, which sported a little icing halfheartedly. However the best was yet to come when at 7.30 our concert, which we had produced ourselves opened with a chorus and carols from our choir[including myself] .After this followed one good turn after another, short sketches, songs, monologues, music and the irresistible cockney, Kimberling who gave his story of the fire at the officers mess at Amerea, and various humerous impersonations. Even the Officers did a sketch for us, the Colonel taking the part of a nurse, much to the delight of the audience. An excellent stage had been fixed up, including footlights, curtains spotlight and even a microphone and amplifiers. The show was compered brilliantly by Capt. Cathie who displayed to those who were not already aware of it, his pleasant and dynamic personality. He had worked hard and patiently at our rehearsals and I think he was satisfied his efforts were not in vain, when at last the entertainments drew to a close near to midnight.. We wended our various ways across the desert illuminated by an almost full moon, satisfied with our Christmas Day, but all, I think, fervently hoping that this would be our last Christmas away from home and that 1943 would see us where we rightly belonged, with our loved ones sitting round our own fireside, singing carols and exchanging presents and enjoying all those things which Christmas at home has to offer. I wonder, I wonder??
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sad24: sad24: Very poignant.
There's a scene in The English Patient that this reminds me of... rubschin:
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How can any intelligent and right thinking man be expected to take a keen interest in such seeming madness.
?When wilt thou save the people O God of Mercy, when? The people Lord, the people, not thrones and crowns, but men. Flowers of thy heart thy children they: let them not pass like weeds away, their heritage a sunless day, God save the people.?
Amen
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This is all revealing a side of my dad I had no clue about. He was about 22 when writing this stuff (and had left skool at 14)
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The bugger is that you never know until it's too late (speaks the voice of experience ~ given the things I have uncovered in my researches)
Many of our Fathers would fall into the definition of heroes but never would have accepted that. Our Grandfathers too. As for the Mums and Grandmothers who got through the wars ~ words fail me when I see what they went through.
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My mum spent the war selling home insurance! whacky115
Beats me how anyone got cover
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Mine spent it manning a Post Office (now BT of course) switchboard by day and Red Cross every night. She reckoned the tin bowler was hell to wear so she never would. Somehow she also managed to court a RAF pilot who got shot down and was killed by the Japs in a POW camp. Then she hitched up with me Dad after the war ~ tho' she had met him before at a dance.
Father was a Sergeant Instructor with Royal Hampshire Regiment.
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Extracts (there's tons of this!)
During our afternoon meanderings Harris and I noticed a small crowd of our lads (could I say comrades?) at the end of a narrow little alley. ?Ah? we said. ?It?s one of the two B?s, Booze or Brothels?. We investigated and found it was the latter. Round a door which opened onto the street was a cluster of our Empire?s Defenders, all trying to peer through a grille at the top of the door. Through this (when we had elbowed out way to the fore) we could see a small room from the back of which an opening led off into a courtyard. Squatting on a shelf a few feet above the ground were three very ugly, repulsive, aged and dirty women (am I insulting the sex by saying women?). These creatures were regarded with hungry eyes by my sex-maddened fellow countrymen, and after one of Gallic blood had had his breath smelt he was admitted to the coveted precincts, much to the envy of his friends. So much for our day in Mahdia. The remainder of our leave was spent in camp, swimming, reading, writing and having a peaceful time in general. After three complete days there we set off back on the morning of the fourth day somewhat reluctantly and arrived at camp at mid-morning.
27/6/43
Much to my surprise and pleasure I was informed today that I, among about a dozen others, was to proceed to Tripoli and bring some vehicles back. We all set off at 1.30 in a 3 tonner and followed the familiar road southward. We kept up a good average speed (60-70 k.p.m.) which enabled us to reach the hills north of Medenine about 7 pm where we camped for the night. The route so far was just as I have described it previously with one exception, that was when we passed through Gabes. Coming up we had by-passed this town. It was a very pleasant little place where very profuse vegetation flourished and many square miles of date palms grew quite thickly. The medium which made this possible was a small running stream which meandered through the town and had been made to flow through irrigation channels among the palms. This is the only running water I have seen so far in N.Africa apart from the Nile. Where the road crossed the brook, native women were washing clothes on the bank and children were bathing in a rocky pool which had formed there. Between here and Medenine the road was very uninteresting passing through desert country.
28/6/43
We set off early this morning and after an interesting ride reached the outskirts of Tripoli by 5 pm (We had crossed the border of Tunisia about mid-day). Tripoli is a fine place with some truly magnificent building of very ambitious architecture. There were many troops stationed here and the streets were crowded with them and civilians too. There were several fine statues and monuments typically Italian. We continued through the town and along the beautiful palm lined promenade round the 19/ harbour which was full of ships, sunken and otherwise. Passing through the suburbs to the east of the city we eventually arrived at the famous Grand Prix race track and passed alongside the impressive grandstand on the right and the pits on the left with the lofty observation tower and indicator board. It was a fine wide road lined with graceful eucalyptus trees and palms, the curves being banked steeply. We followed the track for some little way and then turned off to the beach where we stayed for the night. I had a swim and visited two nearby NAAFI?s.
29/6/43
We picked up our lorries this morning at a vehicle park alongside the race track and spent the morning checking up. I thought we might have been allowed to stay tonight and see a little of Tripoli, but I was disillusioned when our officer in charge decided we would start away about 3 pm. I was driving a 15 cwt Bedford which ran very well. We passed through Tripoli slowly and had a good look at everything, rather sorry that we hadn?t had more leisure to see it properly. It was similar to Alex. In a way the buildings were if anything more imposing and futuristic, trust the Italians for that! The Banco Di Roma was a particularly fine building built of a greenish stone and having many hemi-spherical domes and situated facing the harbour. We reached Zuara that night and after a meal I had a short walk around the place which is simply a native fishing village.
As usual a few of the lads were seeking diligently for ?bint? or beer. I think they were unsuccessful in both quests.
Next stop: Sicily!
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More. My sister and I have been talking and we find that the Imperial War Museum wants this (the original) for its archive. They can preserve it properly, so we have agreed. Once it is all typed up (she hasn't even started on the first book yet) they shall have it.
31/8/43
We rose at 4a.m. this morning and loaded up our bivvies and moved off before breakfast to a place called St. Teresa di Riva, which lies towards Messina. After passing through Catania the country became extremely pretty and reminded me of N Wales or Derbyshire. The hills rose up steeply from the sea and the road and railway wound around the slopes with the sea below, the water being exceptionally clear, the coast forming rocky coves and inlets. Every few miles was a small village built in a row on the coast road and high up on the hills above us were perched some beautiful hotels and big houses, some being built on the edge of a steep cliff and several hundred feet above the sea. Just before reaching our destination as we rounded a big headland ,we saw Italy, a mountainous coastline, still rather hazy, but becoming clearer as we travelled up the coast. In the Straits of Messina were several of our battleships, including the Rodney and Nelson, as I was to hear later, they were steaming along the coast northwards, only a few miles offshore and soon after we first saw them they began to shell the mainland. It was a magnificent sight. A flash of red flame, followed by cloud of smoke, preceded the terrific boom of the guns by several seconds and we could actually see the shells bursting. It seemed strange that there was no opposition or retaliation of any kind, either 23. from the Axis Navies or Air Forces and later when the ships had finished their bombardment they sailed placidly away.
3/9/43
I had a very interesting day. Apart from being the 4th anniversary of the war and nearly Ann?s 5th birthday, the invasion of Italy commenced. We had a few vehicles to finish in the morning and we had soon cleared up and in the afternoon went for a swim. On the beach we had a grandstand view of the invasion and we sat there in the sun all afternoon and watched hundreds of boats passing to and fro, some only a few hundred yards off shore. They were loading up from the beaches a little lower down and along most of this coast. It reminded me of a regatta in the Solent, the sea was calm and blue and the sky flecked with fleecy clouds and all through the day the invasion boats passed backwards and forwards. Most amazing of all was the fact that there was no opposition that we could see. No Luftwaffe above and no enemy ships at sea. After tea I had a walk by the riverbed to a small village which lay on the hillside. There were no streets here at all, as the slopes on which the houses were built were too steep, instead, rough rocky tracks wound at all angles between the stone houses, these being so steep in places that we had to scramble up from one ledge of rock to another, several feet higher up and coming down was accomplished by a series of jumps and quick runs. The church was built on one of the highest points and the old priest showed us round. We went up some steps to a small pipe organ at the back of the church. I played a few notes, while the priest pumped a handle at the side. Then we went up higher still past a little platform where the mechanism of the clock and chimes rested, to the tower where the bells were. Here we had a fine view of the village below and around us, the deep gorge through which the river flowed in the wet season, the hills the other side and to our left, out to sea and the mainland where our craft were still sailing to and fro. After leaving the church we sat on a high terrace on which were built a short row of houses, chatting as well as we could to a family who were quite pleased about the invasion. As it grew dusk we set off down the hill to our camp.
4/9/43
We returned today to our old camp near Paterno after a very interesting morning ride via a different route from which we came, which took us through several towns and villages.
11/9/43
As of old, we moved off completely again on the road to Messina. Instead of going via the coast we took a road inland and right round Etna. It was about 130 miles, and the road took us over mountainous country, climbing sometimes to over 400 feet. One village, which we passed through on the 12/9/43 was 1108 meters altitude and we continued to climb for several hours after that. The views were grand. Deep valleys below us and high peaks above and Etna higher still. The air was very cold and I had my overcoat on. About midday on 12/9 we sighted the sea off the north coast while we were still a long way off and very high up. The whole route had dozens of hairpin bends and looking up the steep slopes we could see part of our convoy almost overhead and directly below were those in front going in the opposite direction to us. We arrived at Messina in the evening, which was a fine city before war had passed it by. From the high mountains behind it we looked down on the harbour and the narrow straits. On the other side was Italy, which we could see plainly. While we have been on the way here Italy has surrendered, the news was received with great enthusiasm.
14/10/43
Little has happened in the past month apart from the usual routine. One Sunday afternoon about 3 weeks ago we were told that Gracie Fields would be entertaining, so we boarded the lorries provided and took a nice long ride of about 20 kms over the mountains on the Palermo road and down to the sea again on the north coast, but after waiting for about 2 hours, during which time we had a bathe, there was still no Gracie so we had the ride back again. I considered it worth it if only for the outing and the splendid views from the tops of the mountains over to the straits and Italy. The next high spot came a little later on when Monty addressed a crowd of 30 corps, (including a representative number from our ships) and told them he was trying to get us all home. Since then rumours of all descriptions have been flying thick and fast. We have been ready to move several times and now it seems that Monty?s implication is a fact as several units are as good as home already. But for us it is not to be, as we later found out. Last night and the previous one we produced a concert. A good stage had been erected in the mess and we had practised for several days beforehand. We are fortunate to have in our unit at the moment a coloured saxophonist and his brilliant playing in the band filled even me, who am no lover of jazz, with admiration. They had four encores in succession last night when some civilians were invited. An Italian girl gave us two songs, one, ?South of the border? seems to be an Italian tune as it is quite popular with the natives here. Our inst. shop did a turn, (the Hill-Billies ? a quintet) dressed in chaps and old hats and neckerchiefs. At the end of the show the first night the colonel got up and broke the news to us, - ? Now has come the time for us to leave 30 corps and follow on with the Eighth Army in Italy?. This announcement was met with groans and boos by most of us present, but on reflecting on it, I don?t think I am sorry. Much as I want to see Gwen and baby again, I don?t want to go home only to be sent to France after a short time, which I am sure, is what would happen. I would rather go on to Italy, and I must admit I would like to see more of that country than just a range of mountains ever the Straits of Messina, and then return home for good, not having to say goodbye again. So I think it is for the best, and I don?t think it will be so very long in any case before I am home. The news continues to be good, Italy had declared war on Germany and the Russians are setting a fine example which is a pity England is not following by making an invasion instead of leaving all the fighting to them and the Eighth.
18/10/43 Monday
Today I experienced once again the thrill of standing in a new country. We crossed over this morning from Messina to Reggio Callabria and before midday had moved off in convoy up the west coast of the ?toe? of Italy. We only covered about 40 miles today passing through several small towns and villages along the coast. At one point we turned inland and crossed over some mountains, coming on to the coast again further north. All along this route we could see out to sea the high peak of Stromboli, which I hear has been in eruption for some time. On the third day, Wed., just before reaching Belvedere the route took us inland and here we climbed for many miles round tortuous bends until we eventually crossed a narrow ridge connecting two peaks which rose up on each side just above us. They were about 6000 feet and were shrouded in mist and clouds. It was very cold up here and rather damp, the views were of course, grand. Far below lay the road along which the vehicles behind us were crawling till they were lost in the distance, beyond lay the sea, a shimmering silver and blue and in front was a deep gorge which dropped almost sheer away to a river bed which wound along to the sea. We descended by a pass and spent that night in a valley surrounded by high peaks. Most of the country here was well cultivated and all the people seem to be farmers. The women do a lot of heavy work and we passed many on the road carrying huge bundles on 25.their head or their back. They are dressed very quaintly in red or black shirts and have them twisted up into a kind of bustle behind, some of them had a black hat, which looked something like a nurse?s veil. Most of them were barefooted. The villages had not been damaged at all and they didn?t seem as if they had seen much of the war. The multitudes of ragged children cheered us, gave us the V. sign and asked for ?biskots? all in one breath as it were, while the men begged for cigarettes. On Thursday we reached the opposite coast at the N.W. corner of the Bay of Taranto. From here the road was very bad, it had been good up till here. The country was fairly flat and we followed the coast all day and stayed the night near Sarracene where we had a bathe and after dinner walked up a hill which had a very old watch-tower on the top, something like Old John.
22/10/43
We arrived just outside Taranto this afternoon where we picked up petrol. We had covered about 350 miles since landing at Reggio. During the morning we passed what looked like an old Roman remnant consisting of two rows of pillars, 15 in all and about 20-30 feet high. On Saturday we crossed the ?heel? and came onto the Adriatic where we followed the coast northwards. Early Sunday morning we passed through Bari a fairly large town and a port, which boasted trams, which I didn?t see actually running, and some fair sized buildings, churches and etc. The people here seemed a bit more civilised than those further south and dressed better although the standard of cleanliness and hygiene was still pretty low. I noticed that the men don?t seem to do much work. There were crowds of them in some of the towns just loafing about and staring at us. They are a very easy-going race on the whole and except the farmers, don?t seem at all inclined to exert themselves sufficiently even to keep the streets or their houses reasonably clean. I think the English must be the most industrious race in the world, although I often wonder if they?re proportionately better off for being like so many busy bees. Apart from the interest point of view, scenery and etc, I was a bit browned off with this trip. I slept out each night and as the dews were very heavy my blankets were damp. Our cookhouse provided us with breakfast and dinner each day, but for tiffin we were given 1 tin of bully and 2 pkts of biscuits which had to last for 5 days, and we would have been rather hungry if it had not been for the apples, oranges, nuts, figs etc which we were able to buy or barter for cigs. But on Monday we reached our journey?s end about 40 miles north of Foggia. Foggia was the only town I saw which had been badly damaged and it was, or had been, one of the biggest and best which we had passed through. The Plains of Foggia, which had seen much fighting, were very flat and uninteresting, something like the Fens. Farms were dotted over here at regular intervals and must have produced much agricultural stuff. At night-time, there were millions of mosquitoes. So far, Italy has been very interesting. The people and the country will give me much to talk about when I get home. The fruit and vegetables are much the same as Sicily, figs, apples, oranges, lemons, bananas, nuts, onions and etc. although I think it is a little more fertile on the whole. There are many olive plantations, the trees being much older, bigger and closer together that in Sicily or Tunisia thus forming practically large olive forests. Even high up on the mountains there are many fir and oak and chestnuts, (the sort what are roasted) and plenty of pasture land everywhere which support large herds of cattle, sheep, goats and pigs. The majority of these animals have bells tied round their necks. To be high up in the hills and hear the cattle bells tinkling and perhaps a couple of ragged bare-footed boys doing shepherd duty, while lower down in the valley a plough is being drawn by a pair of oxen forms a typical and very rural scene. Grapes are of course in abundance and the ?vino? industry was being carried on strongly. In some of the villages we passed through on the latter part of our journey, great barrels about 6 ft high stood in the streets and the whole place smelt of wine, while on the roads were many carts taking in tubs full of grapes.
3/11/43
Our camp is situated on high ground overlooking the Adriatic. To the N.W. lies Termoli, which can be seen in the distance on the coast. This town was evacuated by Gerry, a few days 26. before we arrived here. All around is rolling hilly country. This morning a trip to San Severo was arranged for those who wished to buy anything to send home for Xmas. It was about 25 miles away on the road to Foggia. There were not many shops but I was able to buy a jumper and some slippers for Gwen. Some parts of the town were indescribably filthy, great piles of mud and refuse cluttered up the gutters and pavements. I am beginning to learn that the Italians are as bad as the W..s. Some of the children are dressed in rags and have sores and dirt all over them, it is a common sight to see a woman sitting at a doorstep with the head of one of their large families, in her lap, searching, like some she-ape scratching at their youthful offspring. I had a glass of vermouth and bought some nuts and we returned to camp in time for dinner. We have had a bit of rain since we have been here, which apart from damping our spirits, has damped our bivvies, blankets and most of our kit and turned the camp into a mass of mud. It is at times like these that I see the advantages of a dry climate as in N. Africa. There, each day was the same with a few exceptions, it was always fine and warm and existence in a bivvy was quite endurable, but now we all have colds, and I don?t feel as fit as I did in Africa. When I return to my bivvy at night, to the little things that crawl, jump and bite, to damp, rough and dirty army blankets, it is then that I think most often of a fire and an easy chair, slippers and a hot cocoa and a bed with white sheets and a pillow so soft and a wife quite close. Roll on happy day, no more bully and Burma, no more cookhouse tea, no more pips and stripes, or guards at night, queues for V.s or irritating bugs and fleas. When time?s my own and the world is sane, a world of proportionate work and leisure, pictures, theatres, cafes, trams and buses, music and walks in quiet lanes with rustling autumn leaves or Spring?s buds and flowers. A little hand in mine, ceaseless, childish chatter and no more worrying for dear ones far away.
20/11/43
About a week ago we moved a few miles to our present site, which is right on the coast near some station buildings and one or two farmhouses. Our wagon is parked under a corrugated iron shelter near one of the farms. Here live two little girls named Anna Maria aged 8 and Lina aged 11. They have become very friendly during our short stay here and they come in and out all day, chattering away in Italian. They sell us nuts and vino and Mama does our washing and on occasions Lina even sweeps up for us. We provide them with tit-bits of buckshee grub and in return they have given us various dainties they have concocted. Although they are both of the usual peasant type they are remarkably bright and intelligent as well as being attractive with their black hair and big dark eyes. Needless to say, wishes have been expressed for about 5 or 6 years on to Lina?s age, but then I am afraid our workshop would not be such a safe place for her. The weather still continues cold and wet with only a fine day occasionally, but the site is better than the last, as it is sandy ground mostly here and not so muddy as a little way inland. One day this week we were suddenly machine gunned by a lone Jerry plane, which opened fire almost over our wagon and shot off over the camp only a few feet above the ground. No damage was done, so the excitement it caused was almost worth it, I think, as it served to break the monotony. The war news is good. On the wireless we have heard of the terrific bombing of Berlin and the Russian advance. Over here our bombers have been going backwards and forwards all day and we can sometimes hear the bombs dropping in the distance, while at night can be heard the continuous rumble of gunfire. ?On to Rome!? is the cry, I wish it were ?On to Home!?
27/12/43
We are still in the same site and very little fresh has happened in the last month. We are now in 180pdv tents, which protect us from the elements more efficiently than bivvies did. Our Xmas was fairly good under the circumstances. We had the day off and a good dinner. At night I took part in the concert, which was a great success and was held in the theatre at Serra Capriola. We gave a second performance on Boxing Day and afterwards went with Q Pring to some friends he had made and had an unforgettable supper. They appeared to be quite a 27. good class family and were certainly not short of food. Numerous dishes were placed before us and pork, bread, cheese and a cross between an onion and a leek, sweetbreads, figs, nuts, apples and oranges, all of which were piled up in huge quantities. All this was washed down with pints of vino. One of our chaps could speak Italian well and he told us that this was only a hastily prepared snack and if only they had known we were coming they would have got us something to eat! Q. Pring told us that on his previous visits he had sat down at 7 and eaten till 10 and then been asked, ?When are you going to have something to eat?? The Italians are notoriously big eaters. Rumours of going home are gathering in strength and frequency and I believe they are not without foundation. The weather here has at times, been atrocious. For three days after Christmas, for instance, a terrific gale blew and it was bitterly cold and still is, although the wind has dropped slightly. Apart from that we have had rain, hail and snow and intermittent sunshine?????.
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Fantastic! Thanks Nick
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Extract from Vol 1
27/4/42
It has been getting gradually hotter each day and typical of the Army, they now decide they will have P.T. as it is so hot. There was a beautiful sunset last night of all imaginable colours, yellow, red, orange, black, blue, grey etc, which kept changing as I watched. A great many flying fish can be seen, they look like small swallows as they skim over the surface of the waves.
I am on guard again today on the watertight doors about five decks down. It is boiling hot down there and full of Chinese. There are about 500 of these chaps on board. Some of us are allowed to sleep on deck at night, as the ?air? in the cabins stinks like hell, sweaty feet, smoke and heat, etc. so I mange to slip out on deck most nights. We should sight land very soon now. We have been heading more east lately. We are putting the clocks forward 1 hour tonight as a result of it.
28/4/42
A Sunderland Flying boat has been hovering around us today, we must be getting close to port.
29/4.42
At about 9a.m. we sighted land ahead, consisting of some high mountain peaks, still misty in the distance and covered in clouds, it is our first sight of land for 14 days, since leaving Scotland. At about 11a.m. we are quite close, we have been steaming in line ahead through a minefield. The details on the shore can be discerned plainly now, hills of reddish earth, covered in scrub and dotted with palm trees, and various types of buildings and huts. It is a most exciting occasion to see Africa for the first time and I only wish Gwen were here, she too would be thrilled at the hundreds of fascinating things to see. As we are crossing the boom at the entrance to the river a small native canoe comes quite close, it seems infinitely small by the towering hull of our ship. Several more canoes approach us as we steam slowly up the river past Freetown. One of the natives in his canoe starts singing ?Bless ?em all?, presumably as a compliment to us. They all seem to have a fair knowledge of English [good and bad] judging by the things they shout at us. If a coin is thrown into the water they will dive over the side of the canoe in a flash and pick it out.
3.
There are hundreds of ships in the harbour of all sorts and sizes and before we drop anchor, the R.A.F, who seem pleased to see us, give us an exhibition of aerobatics, a Spitfire roars round the ship, banking steeply and so close that we can see the pilot clearly. Also in the air are a Sunderland, Walrus seaplanes, Skuas, Albatross etc. On our starboard side is the small scattered town of Freetown, backed by hills and further inland, high mountains. Along the banks are various native huts and tropical plants and trees [about ? mile off]. On the port side some 2 miles off is a long low ridge of land and a golden strip of sand.
30/4/42
It is cooler today and cloudy. At about 3p.m. we had our first taste of tropical rain, Oh Boy, what rain. A small native boat with a triangular sail is being swept along by the gale not far off and it looks as though the mast and sail are going to be lost. The storm dies out after about an hour with a few terrific claps of thunder. I have been sleeping on deck the last few nights, it is glorious out there and there is a beautiful full moon. I remember the last full moon I saw was in Woolwich, which is now 1000?s of miles away. The air is lovely and fresh in the evenings and there is only a partial blackout here, the lights on shore are twinkling all night.
1/5/42
Today is scorching hot and not a breeze to relieve it. What a pleasure cruise this is, we wake up in the morning and have tea and biscuits if somebody is not too idle to fetch it, then breakfast, laze about all morning, sleep most of the afternoon and laze in the evenings.
3/5/42
At 10a.m. this morning we get under way and steam slowly down the river, passing through a narrow channel of ships of every kind, cargo boats, troop ships, battle ships and aircraft carrier etc. We show our mutual admiration of each other as we pass close by each ship, cheering and passing rude remarks, calling the aircraft carrier a football field and a small old destroyer an ice cream tub, to which it did bear a little resemblance with it?s awnings and light paintwork.
We eventually passed through the boom and headed out for the open sea. I played for the service again this morning. I was loaned a book of Handel and played a minuet and Rinaldo as volantries. Also went to service in the evening, it provides a welcome change of atmosphere from our sleeping quarters where wrangling, swearing and sexual discussions reign supreme. I am gratified to discover that rather than succumbing to my environment, my aversion to this [as we have it in large doses] tends to make me more immune from it. The services are well attended and I suppose a lot of the fellows feel the need for some ?spiritual uplift?. Some of the hymns make me feel a bit homesick; ?Holy Father in thy mercy, hear our anxious prayer, keep our loved ones, now far distant, ? neath thy care? I wonder what they are doing now? I have become friendly with two New Zealanders on board, Colin Bellam and Trevor Anderson. It is amazing how small the world is, they were at Osmaston camp, Derby for a short time and Colin became acquainted with a young lady from Derby Corporation Electricity Dept. who I knew, he also knew of the famous Mr Duck. I have also met Basil Thompson on board, who I was at school with, he is now a pilot officer in the R.A.F. he used to attend the Y.M.C. at Wesley Hall.
4/5/42
Sometime this evening we should cross ?the line?, it is of course very hot and the morning and evening give is the only relief. It is grand on deck at night and last night we were treated to a fine display of lightening though there was no thunder. I had heard that it was very cold at night in the tropics, but I have yet to discover this, as it is quite warm with only one blanket out on open deck. There is a fearful racket in pop bottles on board, 2d is charged on each and as they are left all
4.
over the ship, there is a great temptation to cash them in at the canteen. I have done it myself, so I know!
5/5/42
We had a musical treat this afternoon, a talk on17th century composers, including Handel and Bach and a selection of old songs, with ?Largo?, ?Drink to me only?, ?Alleluya? and madrigals.
The sea is abundant with flying fish and today I saw what I believe is called a Ray fish. It looked like a big brown bird floating in the water. It was much cooler on deck last night with a strong breeze blowing and I had to use two blankets. Major catastrophe: the canteen has run out of practically everything except ?C to C? fags and various haberdashery, no choc, fruit, biscuits etc. This does not surprise me as huge quantities of these have been bought and it has been a never ending source of amazement to me where all the stuff comes from:- fresh water, flour, sugar, meat, potatoes, fruit , veg, chocolate and fags. Colossal stocks of these things must be carried, for instance, 10 fags per man a day=50,000 per day =1,400,000 per week, to mention only one small commodity.
7/5/42
A gramophone recital was held this afternoon, [light classical music] it was well attended by several hundred and among the pieces played was Purcell?s Trumpet Voluntary with organ and orchestra, it sounded fine and was enjoyed by all. Was on guard again on watertight doors, made me fearfully tired, but slept most of the next day.
8/5/42
It is getting much colder at least in comparison to what we have been used to, there was a very cold wind blowing tonight. I have been feeling very homesick the last few days and I find myself wondering how I am going to stick being away from home for such a long while. If it were not for Gwen and baby I wouldn?t mind at all. I wonder if little Ann will remember me when I finally get home, I expect she has started school now. I shall perhaps feel better when I hear all the news from Gwen and too, when I get off this blasted boat. We have been at sea a month tomorrow and it will probably be another two before we get to our destination, it seems incredible to be at sea for a quarter of a year: one consolation, [?] however is that we shall probably be nearer home than we are at the moment. Our position now must be about 20degrees S and 500-1000 miles west of Africa.
10/5/42
Played at service again this morning and community singing tonight. Heard Churchill?s speech on the radio and attended the weekly session of ?The Brains Trust?, one of our educational facilities which we have on board, they also have German, French, Arabic, Persian, Art, Music etc.
When the sun was setting this evening we were heading due East.
11/5/42
Some dirty swine pinched 30/- out of my pocket during the night, this is one of several thefts from our room. No hope of recovering it or finding out who it was.
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A Sunderland Flying boat has been hovering around us today, we must be getting close to port.
Pastis the Elder eeek: eeek:
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eeek:
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Six degrees of separation shocked003
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He was in S Africa in 1942....?
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TBH I don't know. He was all over the place on Catalinas, Sunderlands.... Burma, HK, Singapore, East Africa, West Africa, prolly S.Africa too.
At close of hostilities he was offered the post of managing the HK shipyard and docks, came home to announce the splendid news and the family said no, we need you here so he had to turn it down. noooo:
I might have been Sak? instead of Pastis lol: lol:
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I am now collating it allinto one mahoosive file.
I found this. Like father, like son I fear redface:
We rose at 3a.m. today, having previously packed and moved off in convoy ay 6a.m. and passing through Cairo and along the road by the Pyramids, which looked very majestic and impressive in the morning sun, we took the road through the desert to Alexandria about 180 Kms. distant. After some of the usual Army delay, we turned off across the desert and came to our site in a few more minutes. It was nearly 6p.m. and after tea we spread our blankets and with the rising full moon for illumination, we turned in.
25/7/42
The site we have parked on is a stony stretch of wasteland and desert, inhabited by ants, flies lizards, snakes, bugs, grasshoppers and massive black beetles. A few hundred yards off there is a salt marsh, covering many square mile
s
I never did like camping evil:
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The Imperial War Museum has just let us have my Dad's service record from 1939-46. Fascinating stuff cloud9:
Didn't know he had ended up in Berlin! eeek:
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(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs3.postimage.org%2FKEsy9.jpg&hash=182154900cb2f3f23e2b29a5da292f18d22aa9b1) (http://www.postimage.org/image.php?v=PqKEsy9)
cloud9:
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I started to trace my grandfathers war record. Very awkward, WW1, volunteered and signed up in Ireland. Know he was in the Royal Leinsters and have one or two pics of him in uniform. He never spoke of the war (I was probably too young to be interested), but I believe he was at The Somme and that he was gassed. No-one in family has any records, letters, medals etc.
Got what I believe is his service record card but it is quite vague.
Just have to keep digging.
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Did he survive the Somme? I had an uncle who died there; my Mum's youngest brother, in fact he died there before she was born. Very sad, joined up before the legal age with all the Jingoistic froth and only lasted a short time. I think a couple of my aunts have been to see the war graves. noooo:
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Can't recommend this guy (http://www.battlefields.co.uk/index.php) enough...
He arranges 'battlefield tours' but will research your ancestors war record (stuff we couldn't find) and build it into the tour... it was amazing...
Took my mother and followed the path of an Uncle up to the front, to fields where he was billeted, to battlefields where he saw action and ultimately to his final resting place... quite amazing.
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I started to trace my grandfathers war record. Very awkward, WW1, volunteered and signed up in Ireland. Know he was in the Royal Leinsters and have one or two pics of him in uniform. He never spoke of the war (I was probably too young to be interested), but I believe he was at The Somme and that he was gassed. No-one in family has any records, letters, medals etc.
Got what I believe is his service record card but it is quite vague.
Just have to keep digging.
If you have his "Regimental" or "Service" number look at the Medal Rolls held at Kew. Unfortunately records kept in Ireland were burnt following an IRA attack on the records offices.
Records kept at Kew now did suffer some burning when there offices were bombed in WWII but many have survived.
I have accounts with a couple of the main sources as I have been researching my family history for years. If you care to let me have his name (full) D.O.B. (if known), Place of birth and any service numbers, regiments etc via a PM, I can use my accounts to look for him for you. That way you get in for free ~ Otherwise you are looking at annual subscriptions of around £300 to access what I can get into.
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Thanks, I will dig out what I have.
He survived the war and came to live in England, Carshalton Surrey which became very much an Irish area.
The pub I am meeting my dada at a lunchtime is now called The Nightingale, but use to be The Jenny Lind - it was an Irish pub - grandad used to take me for walks (when I was about 4/5 yrs old) and this involved several betting shops and finally the Jenny Lind where I was left outside drinking lemonade which I am sure had brandy in it (prolly why I like it today).
Lots of great memories of him.
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Just found this thread ...most excellent ..anymore Nick....... rubschin:
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Somewhere I have all of it. The original is now in the Imperial War Museum
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Somewhere I have all of it. The original is now in the Imperial War Museum
Post some more...... Thumbs: the museum is too far for me..... noooo:
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PM me your e mail address!
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PM me your e mail address!
Thumbs: I'll open one tomorrow.....
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facepalm: facepalm:
Or Foggy's??? ::)
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facepalm: facepalm:
Or Foggy's??? ::)
She'll open one tomorrow....... Thumbs:
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facepalm: facepalm:
Or Foggy's??? ::)
She'll open one tomorrow....... Thumbs:
eeek: eeek: eeek:
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FFS! ::)
Download it by clicking here... (http://virtual-pub.com/SMF/JOURNAL.pdf)
OK? Thumbs:
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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What an amazing read Thumbs:, I can see where you get your writing skills from Nick
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Pity the later volumes are missing. He was at D Day and ended the war in Berlin. He was 22 when he wrote this and had left skool at 14. rubschin: rubschin:
The original is in the Imperial War Museum. My mate Wayne is a military historian and has his own publishing company. He is publishing it as a book!
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Pity the later volumes are missing. He was at D Day and ended the war in Berlin. He was 22 when he wrote this and had left skool at 14. rubschin: rubschin:
The original is in the Imperial War Museum. My mate Wayne is a military historian and has his own publishing company. He is publishing it as a book!
Charge for downloads you say....? rubschin:
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:thumbsup:
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Pity the later volumes are missing. He was at D Day and ended the war in Berlin. He was 22 when he wrote this and had left skool at 14. rubschin: rubschin:
The original is in the Imperial War Museum. My mate Wayne is a military historian and has his own publishing company. He is publishing it as a book!
:thumbsup:
In some ways that it ends so abruptly with years missing added to the poignancy of it as did the inevitable (self?) censoring out of matters military.
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Perhaps so. I liked the "wog national anthem" bit razz:
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FFS! ::)
Download it by clicking here... (http://virtual-pub.com/SMF/JOURNAL.pdf)
OK? Thumbs:
Thumbs:
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FFS! ::)
Download it by clicking here... (http://virtual-pub.com/SMF/JOURNAL.pdf)
OK? Thumbs:
Thumbs:
Ker-CHING! €50 please! Thumbs:
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Nearly at publication date cloud9:
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Nearly at publication date cloud9:
Thumbs: Thumbs:
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Nearly at publication date cloud9:
That's what Chilcott keeps saying too
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::)
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Published today cloud9:
From Leicester to Libya
The War Journal of Private David Elliot Warren 10538835
Call up must have been shocking as well as inevitable for millions in 1939 and 1940. This diary records the experiences of one young man plucked from a life in Leicester and transported to Scotland, South Africa, Egypt and the desert in the wake of the Eighth Army.
It is a story of new places and new way of life and of experiences which would have been unimaginable if not for the outbreak of war. He records his impressions of life on board ship, the continent of Africa, the impact of colonialism, time off in Cairo, the behaviour of his comrades and life in the desert on the fringes of the battles with Rommel.
From Leicester to Libya offers a first-hand glimpse of one man’s World War II.
http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history
(http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history)
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Published today cloud9:
From Leicester to Libya
The War Journal of Private David Elliot Warren 10538835
Call up must have been shocking as well as inevitable for millions in 1939 and 1940. This diary records the experiences of one young man plucked from a life in Leicester and transported to Scotland, South Africa, Egypt and the desert in the wake of the Eighth Army.
It is a story of new places and new way of life and of experiences which would have been unimaginable if not for the outbreak of war. He records his impressions of life on board ship, the continent of Africa, the impact of colonialism, time off in Cairo, the behaviour of his comrades and life in the desert on the fringes of the battles with Rommel.
From Leicester to Libya offers a first-hand glimpse of one man’s World War II.
http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history
(http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history)
:thumbsup:
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My sisters have both phoned me. They are in floods sad24: sad24:
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My sisters have both phoned me. They are in floods sad24: sad24:
Two copies sold. :thumbsup:
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Published today cloud9:
From Leicester to Libya
The War Journal of Private David Elliot Warren 10538835
Call up must have been shocking as well as inevitable for millions in 1939 and 1940. This diary records the experiences of one young man plucked from a life in Leicester and transported to Scotland, South Africa, Egypt and the desert in the wake of the Eighth Army.
It is a story of new places and new way of life and of experiences which would have been unimaginable if not for the outbreak of war. He records his impressions of life on board ship, the continent of Africa, the impact of colonialism, time off in Cairo, the behaviour of his comrades and life in the desert on the fringes of the battles with Rommel.
From Leicester to Libya offers a first-hand glimpse of one man’s World War II.
http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history
(http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history)
Excellent Nick! :thumbsup:
[serious] Shall I remove the free copy in reply #52 of this thread...? [/serious]
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Very well done Nick :thumbsup:
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http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya (http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya) cloud9:
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http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya (http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya) cloud9:
:thumbsup:
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http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya (http://www.salientbooks.co.uk/military-history/leicester-to-libya) cloud9:
:thumbsup:
:thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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The publisher is a nutter Banghead Banghead Banghead
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The publisher is a nutter Banghead Banghead Banghead
Popcorn:
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Banghead Banghead Banghead Banghead Banghead
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Banghead Banghead Banghead Banghead Banghead
Popcorn: Popcorn:
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The publisher is a nutter Banghead Banghead Banghead
And he took your book......... rubschin:
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Pink Sis is going on the local tellybox to talk about the diary eeek:
She may get to meet Kaye :thumbsup: sad24:
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Pink Sis is going on the local tellybox to talk about the diary eeek:
She may get to meet Kaye :thumbsup: sad24:
East Midlands Today?
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:thumbsup:
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Skybox set to record
But if they filmed today probably will be on later in the week
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Will check.
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Was it on tonight?
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Tonight at 6.30 on something called Notts TV rubschin:
I suspect she would get a bigger audience if she went to the local Oxfam shop ::)
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Tonight at 6.30 on something called Notts TV rubschin:
I suspect she would get a bigger audience if she went to the local Oxfam shop ::)
Claims to be on Sky telebox channel 117
And is it listed for people outside of Nottingham? noooo:
Apparently there is some clever jiggery pokery that may work
http://www.a516digital.com/2014/10/local-tv-on-satellite.html (http://www.a516digital.com/2014/10/local-tv-on-satellite.html)
Update:
And does this jiggery pokery work? noooo:
And is their on demand schedule up to daye ? noooo:
Yes the audience would be bigger at "the local Oxfam shop"
And
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I will catch it online here
http://nottstv.com/
(http://nottstv.com/)
::)
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I will catch it online here
http://nottstv.com/
(http://nottstv.com/)
::)
seems it will appear on their on demand service sometime in the next 2 weeks
Provinces eh? Don't you just love them
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Here we go :thumbsup:
http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001 (http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001)
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Here we go :thumbsup:
http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001 (http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001)
:thumbsup:
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Here we go :thumbsup:
http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001 (http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001)
Excellent! :thumbsup:
She didn't mention you at all.... whistle:
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She quoted me whistle:
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She quoted me whistle:
Oh... redface:
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I sent you a free copy you bald bastard. Read it? No. Bedtime story perhaps whistle:
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I sent you a free copy you bald bastard. Read it? No. Bedtime story perhaps whistle:
Keep you hair on ginge! ::)
I did read it ackchewlee..... whistle:
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I sent you a free copy you bald bastard. Read it? No. Bedtime story perhaps whistle:
6 PM..... noooo:
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Here we go :thumbsup:
http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001 (http://nottstv.com/programmes/630-show/?bctid=4567749751001)
Finally got it to work on the proper TV
Good stuff :thumbsup:
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Big Sis said "She didn't come across very well". I asked if she wanted a saucer of milk angel1
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Pink Sis said "She didn't come across very well". I asked if she wanted a saucer of milk angel1
;D
Well it wasn't nice that jibe about pink hair
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Whoops, I meant Big Sis said that. Anyhoo, Pink Sis had gone white for the day..........
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Big Sis said "She didn't come across very well". I asked if she wanted a saucer of milk angel1
She came across better than the 'anchor' who seemed to be unable to demonstrate any joined up thinking.
Presumably she started at the TV station doing make-up and was able to blackmail herself into a seat in front of the camera.
One of her finer moments was to the chap "There is a lot of interest in the second world war at the moment and you are so interested you had a holiday in Ypres" ::)
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We are dealing with provincials here ::)
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Big Sis said "She didn't come across very well". I asked if she wanted a saucer of milk angel1
She came across better than the 'anchor' who seemed to be unable to demonstrate any joined up thinking.
Presumably she started at the TV station doing make-up and was able to blackmail herself into a seat in front of the camera.
One of her finer moments was to the chap "There is a lot of interest in the second world war at the moment and you are so interested you had a holiday in Ypres" ::)
;D ;D ;D
Luckily for her both her regular viewers would never have noticed
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
;D
I am my dad's double....
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs10.postimg.org%2Fj8x8okyxh%2FFile1.jpg&hash=cbbc54ef66d0368fe80865d140673d6930456355) (http://postimg.org/image/j8x8okyxh/)
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
ANd a dab hand with the Pledge :thumbsup:
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
;D
I am my dad's double....
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs10.postimg.org%2Fj8x8okyxh%2FFile1.jpg&hash=cbbc54ef66d0368fe80865d140673d6930456355) (http://postimg.org/image/j8x8okyxh/)
Hello sailor???
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
;D
I am my dad's double....
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs10.postimg.org%2Fj8x8okyxh%2FFile1.jpg&hash=cbbc54ef66d0368fe80865d140673d6930456355) (http://postimg.org/image/j8x8okyxh/)
Hello sailor???
Conscripted at 18 and then packed off to Normandy on June 6th on the back end of a Oerlikon 20 mm cannon... Poor sod... noooo:
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
Brilliant Misty
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My Grandad receiving his medal. Polish Air Force.
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs23.postimg.org%2Fcwevmwvmf%2Fgrandad_jozefowicz.jpg&hash=2a45ea977da66fc37420d41f71c9392593797f1f) (http://postimg.org/image/cwevmwvmf/)
How cool! Thumbs:
I know! my cousin in America sent it on FB, I'm doing some research and this was in 1944. I have his service details and everything, fascinating. Good looking fella, my Dad is his double. Now I see where I get my good looks from. ;)
;D
I am my dad's double....
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs10.postimg.org%2Fj8x8okyxh%2FFile1.jpg&hash=cbbc54ef66d0368fe80865d140673d6930456355) (http://postimg.org/image/j8x8okyxh/)
So you are really BM Junior then
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
Thumbs:
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
Thumbs:
Thumbs: Thumbs:
You'd think he'd had got one for himself too
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
Thumbs:
Thumbs: Thumbs:
You'd think he'd had got one for himself too
I think Miss I has a mug.......... rubschin:
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
Thumbs:
Thumbs: Thumbs:
You'd think he'd had got one for himself too
I think Miss I has a mug.......... rubschin:
drumroll:
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Got these for Pink and Big Sis and The Boy
(https://www.virtual-pub.com/SMF/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fs7.postimg.org%2F6ro90uxhz%2Fmug.jpg&hash=f5a501ae775629c6661e6e25168f1749a3612534) (http://postimg.org/image/6ro90uxhz/)
Thumbs:
Thumbs:
Thumbs: Thumbs:
You'd think he'd had got one for himself too
I think Miss I has a mug.......... rubschin:
happy001
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::)
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https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html (https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html)
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https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html (https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html)
How wonderful! ;D
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https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html (https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html)
How wonderful! ;D
Thumbs: Thumbs:
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https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html (https://www.warhistoryonline.com/reviews/leicester-to-libya-review.html)
How wonderful! ;D
Thumbs: Thumbs:
Thumbs: Thumbs: Thumbs:
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Big Sis goes to the quack
Quack is South African. Name of Mackenzie. From Durban.
Big Sis says, my Dad was there in the war. He was taken in by a family in Durban. Mackenzie. They had three little girls.
Doc says, one of those was my mum. They still talk about him. We have photos.
Fooking hell!! Shocked: Shocked: Shocked:
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Big Sis goes to the quack
Quack is South African. Name of Mackenzie. From Durban.
Big Sis says, my Dad was there in the war. He was taken in by a family in Durban. Mackenzie. They had three little girls.
Doc says, one of those was my mum. They still talk about him. We have photos.
Fooking hell!! Shocked: Shocked: Shocked:
eeek:
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Big Sis goes to the quack
Quack is South African. Name of Mackenzie. From Durban.
Big Sis says, my Dad was there in the war. He was taken in by a family in Durban. Mackenzie. They had three little girls.
Doc says, one of those was my mum. They still talk about him. We have photos.
Fooking hell!! Shocked: Shocked: Shocked:
eeek:
eeek: eeek:
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Big Sis goes to the quack
Quack is South African. Name of Mackenzie. From Durban.
Big Sis says, my Dad was there in the war. He was taken in by a family in Durban. Mackenzie. They had three little girls.
Doc says, one of those was my mum. They still talk about him. We have photos.
Fooking hell!! Shocked: Shocked: Shocked:
eeek:
eeek: eeek:
eeek: eeek: eeek: