My War - Part 2

My stint at Blackpool was followed by further training at Compton Bassett in Wiltshire, which, to my city upbringing, was a beautiful countryside paradise. I was duly posted to Coltishall from where I wished to be transferred so much that when the MO asked me if I wanted to go abroad I nodded vigorously. Without touching me, he said “Right you’re A1” This came as a pleasant surprise as I was A2 when I joined up. In no time at all we arrived at Cheadle in Cheshire which was unfortunate as we should have been in Cheadle in Staffordshire. The lengths the R.A.F. would go to in fooling the enemy.
You must promise not to laugh when I tell you that our small unit was in Intelligence. I don’t know whether I should be telling you this after “Spy Catcher”, but we learned that we were in “Y” Section which was very appropriate as we were always wondering why we were wherever we were. Following about 6 months in billets at Uttoxeter in Staffordshire, which, incidentally were some of my happiest times in the R.A.F. We were sent to a transit camp in Wilmslow, from where, in keeping with the usual tradition, I sneaked out and caught the train home for an illegal days visit before being sent overseas. My biggest regret since has been that, instead of spending it with my mother, I wasted those few hours with a young lass whom I was never to see again, just as I was never to see my mother again as she died whilst I was overseas.
We sailed from Liverpool on the next day March 19th 1942, a trip that was memorable for the way in which the numbers on the mess deck for meals, massively reduced from day to day. We felt secure in our convoy but I heard later that our ship “The Duchess of Atholl” had been sunk on it’s next trip out. Following calling at Freetown, we arrived two weeks later in Durban where our youngest airman asked the commander of the whole draft if we could have a payday in order to have some beer and a woman now that we were on shore. I have wondered since, what kind of woman he was able to get for what was left of 10 shillings after buying his beer. We spent 8 days on Clairwood Racecourse outside Durban and my strongest memory of leaving was the sight and sound of the “Lady in White” as she became known. This lady, who had the most beautiful voice (Contralto, I think) deemed it part of her war effort to sing for all the troopships as they arrived in or left port. I never knew her name but that was the name she was given.

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