Seeing the World and Finding God

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Pennie Hedge, a volunteer for BBC London, on behalf of Ron Smith and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Smith fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

I was just about 15 or 16 years old when the war started in 1939, and training to be a baker, and then I became a cake decorator. I received my conscription papers in 1942 and I was soon in the Airforce, training to be a fitter. I wanted to be a pilot, but my eyesight wasn’t good enough for that.

I spent two years or so up in Lincolnshire, working mainly on Lancasters. Very interesting work and it was quite new to me, as I was so young, only 19 or so. Then after a while I was posted down to Devon. In Devon I was working on trainer aircraft, and also Mosquitos. And then I began working on Spitfires and Hurricanes. And then suddenly one day the Sergeant came up to me and said, “Ron, you’ve been posted.” “Where am I going?” “You’re going overseas.” “Oh, where?” “I’ve no idea at all.”

We were posted in 1942, around Christmas time, and I settled down in Egypt, where I had the job of looking after a gang of men, young men, looking after the aircraft, in what they call the graveyard, just outside Cairo — Heliopolis. I had this gang working for me there, taking aircraft apart so that we could use the parts for other aircraft. Suddenly I was posted from there to the Bahrain Islands. We were there for a few days, and I had to use mosquito nets for the first time. All very new to a South London boy. I then suddenly discovered that I had been put into the Pioneer Squadron, to go to different parts of the world to set up airstrips. It was very rough work.

I did a lot of travelling. It sounds a bit odd, a young man at that time going to so many places: Egypt, the Bahrain Islands, Karachi in India, Bangkok in Thailand, Rangoon in Burma, Hong Kong and Kowloon, Hiroshima in Japan, Palambang in Indonesia, Singapore… Before the war I’d only been as far as Holland and France on school journeys. This was all new to me.

How did I get to all these places? My secret was that as soon as a notice went up in the centre of the camp “fitter required for Hong Kong” or wherever, I’d think “Oh, Bing Crosby went there” and I’d sign up for the job. I’d volunteer for these things, not because I was particularly brave, but I was just young and enthusiastic and I wanted to see the world. So we had a good time travelling round.

During the war we saw films of people fighting in different parts of the world. And the one place I did not want to go to was Burma. I had a horrible impression of Burma being a hot place, and rainy, monsoons and very very dangerous. And so I’m saying in my heart that I don’t want to go to Burma, anywhere but Burma. And suddenly when it came “Aircraft fitter required for Burma”, I thought “oh, I think I’ll go.” I decided to go.

We got off the aircraft just near a clearing, the men getting off with me, and when the Sergeant came out, someone called out “Sergeant, where are the tents?” “Over there” “And where are the beds?” “Beds? What do you want beds for?” He said “If you want a bed, there’s a jungle over there, go and cut yourself some bamboo and make yourself a bed.” So it was a real Pioneer Squadron. But we really enjoyed it.

After that, our next posting was Hong Kong. That was interesting because we had taken over a school, a very modern school, and we were even allowed the young girls to come and see us, even cook a meal for us, or do our washing. Quite the opposite to being in Burma. A life of ease. Some of the young men married these young girls too.

One day in Hong Kong we received a note saying there’s an aircraft broken down in Japan. Would anyone like to go and help get it going? “Yes, I’ll go.” So I went to Japan to fix the aircraft. This was a few months after the end of the war in 1946. So we fixed the aircraft and the pilot came out one day and said “Okay to test fly it?” And I said “Yes, sure.” So he said, “Well jump in, we’ll try it.” I wasn’t expecting that.

I jumped in, with the navigator and the pilot. The navigator said, “We’re not far from Hiroshima, where they dropped the bomb. Can we fly over it, Sir?” The pilot said “Yes, why not.” So we flew over Hiroshima. A very very sad sight, terrible sight. And I’ve never forgotten it.

Soon after that I had a posting to Palambang. So I went down there, to a new unit. I got out of the aircraft, walked across the field, and all I could see was army personnel. I told the Sergeant that I’d just come down to join Squadron so-and-so, he said “You’re a little late, I’m afraid, it packed up 3 months ago. They’ve all gone home.” So what do I do now? I saw an officer who told me to make my way back to Singapore. That was about 1,000 miles away. “We can fix a flight for you, but you’ll have to hitchhike the rest of the way, on your own.”

So I got back to a transit camp in Singapore. I was waiting there to be appointed to a new squadron. While I was there I went into the tent I’d been allocated to, tent 24. As I approached it, with my kit bag on my back, I saw on the tent in chalk “I’d rather be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord, than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” I thought, “Oh no, I’ve got one of those religious nutters here.” I thought, I’m going to have a fine time here.

But I watched him, this man, and he was very very sincere. Each day he’d be doing something sensible around the campsite, picking up the rubbish, the dog ends, the beer bottles, and so forth. Trying to grow flowers in the half desert. I watched him, I talked with him. I watched him particularly at night time when he’d kneel by the mosquito net to pray. And as the days went by I thought, there’s something about this man that I’d like to know more about. So I asked questions. He loaned me some booklets. I know he was praying for me. And as the days went by, I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that I was not right with God. There was something missing in my life that I wanted.

So one evening I went back into the tent, and there he was, as usual, praying. Not a word passed between us, but I went into the tent and saw him there, went out of the tent and looked at the sky. Should I commit myself to God now? Back into the tent, then back outside. It was the most strange experience. I felt somehow that I’d been called, by someone, somewhere. So I went back into the tent and knelt and quietly said aloud “Lord Jesus, I want to follow you. I want you to be my guide, my leader and my life.” After that, we both stood and shook hands. And he said “Ron, what you’ve just said, its in the Bible.” I said “Is it?”

Two days later he went back to his unit in Ceylon. And the only time I’ve seen him since was a couple of years later in London, he was getting onto the bus I’d just got off. We only had the chance to say “Hello” and the bus drove off.

I was in the tent alone. What do I do now, Lord, do I carry on this strange thing I’ve done, or do I forget all about it? Well by the grace and goodness of God, I decided to go on with God. I went along to Singapore, found a church, joined it. And I said to the elders in the church, I’d like to be baptised. So these four Chinese elders took me through a series of classes, assured themselves that I was a Christian, and baptised me.

And I came back to this country with the certainty that I was going to be a missionary, but not going from England to Africa, China, or somewhere, but coming from China to England. And that’s what I did. I became a missionary in London.

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