PASSAGE TO INDIA

PASSAGE TO INDIA, MARCH 1945

I remember March 1945 - I was aged eleven. The world had been at war for half of my lifetime. For many of those years I had seen my father only briefly when he was home on leave from the RAF.

I remember leaving home for school after once again saying goodbye to my father but this time it was embarkation leave. After several home postings he was now to see service overseas, though none of us knew where. The following extracts are from his diary.

Tuesday 6.3.45 Boarded ship, Liverpool 19.30 hrs
Wednesday 7.3.45 Still in dock
Thursday 8.3.45 Still in dock
Friday 9.3.45 Still in dock, may sail tomorrow
Saturday 10.3.45 Sailed 07.30 hrs
Sunday 11.3.45 Well out in north Atlantic
Monday 12.3.45 Weather foggy, rough sailing
Tuesday 13.3.45 All quiet, nothing to report
Wednesday 14.3.45 Nearing Gibraltar soon
Thursday 15.3.45 Outside Gibraltar minefields, vaccinations and inoculations
Friday 16.3.45 Stopped at Gibraltar, weather lovely
Saturday 17.3.45 Passing along coast of Algiers, See one town very clearly
Sunday 18.3.45 07.30 hrs, now passing Bizerta, Gulf of Tunis, Cape Bon next. 09.30 hrs Pantelleria. Malta 20.00 hrs
Monday 19.3.45 Bound for Port Said
Tuesday 20.3.45 Passed Crete during night
Wednesday 21.3.45 In Suez Canal, getting very warm
Thursday 22.3.45 Stopped to take on water, oil and cargo at Port Tuefa
Friday 23.3.45 Still in Port Tuefa. Left port at 17.00 hrs, now in Red Sea
Saturday 24.3.45 Passing 'Dead Man's Reef'. Famous coral reef. Very warm
Sunday 25.3.45 Nearing Equator, changed into tropical kit
Monday 26.3.45 Passing Aden. Now in Arabian Sea - destination Bombay
Tuesday 27.3.45 Still at sea, should arrive Bombay on Saturday
Wednesday 28.3.45 Still at sea, very hot now
Thursday 29.3.45 Still at sea, heat almost unbearable
Friday 30.3.45 Still at sea. Only one more day before arrival in India
Saturday 31.3.45 Landed Bombay 09.00 hrs. Disembark tomorrow 12.00 hrs
Sunday 1.4.45 Moved to transit camp at Walli. Bombay beautiful place
Monday 2.4.45 Don't know how long we will be here. Next move will be either Ceylon or Burma
Tuesday 3.4.45 Still at Walli
Wednesday 4.4.45 Taffy posted today
Thursday 5.4.45 Posted to Calcutta
Friday 6.4.45 Left Walli 16.30 hrs, boarded train at Bombay 17.30 hrs. On the move 20.00 hrs
Saturday 7.4.45 Five more days to go, not too bad so far
Sunday 8.4.45 Stopped at Nagpur, Dongargarh and Raipur. Storm during night. Bombay to Calcutta - a train journey to remember
Monday 9.4.45 Train journey getting monotonous, sore in every bone. Men taken off train with malaria and dysentery
Tuesday 10.4.45 Only another 150 miles to go. Arrived Calcutta 14.00 hrs
Wednesday 11.4.45 Conditions terrible here, only the strong will survive
Thursday 12.4.45 Still in Calcutta
Friday 13.4.45 Unlucky 13th - still in Calcutta
Saturday 14.4.45 Posting notified, leave Calcutta tomorrow
Sunday 15.4.45 Arrived Balapore. Pretty tough spot
Monday 16.4.45 Waiting. Nothing to do
Tuesday 17.4.45 Still waiting, no change
Wednesday 18.4.45 Posted to Baigachi
Thursday 19.4.45 Miles from anywhere
Friday 20.4.45 How are the Kiddies?
Saturday 21.4.45 Plenty of company: snakes, flies and ants - millions of them
Sunday 22.4.45 Terrific electric storm last night, billets flooded, getting used to it
Monday 23.4.45 Very quiet today for a change
Tuesday 24.4.45 Moved back to hospital in Calcutta
Wednesday 25.4.45 Transferred to Barrackpore pending operation

This is the last entry in my father's diary, he died at 09.00 hrs on the 30th May 1945. We celebrated the end of the war in Europe on 8th May 1945 (my elder sister Sheila's 15th birthday). The war in the East would end on 15th August 1945 (my 12th birthday), we did not celebrate this event.

I REMEMBER

I remember walking home from school for lunch with my two sisters.
I remember my mother sitting at the table holding a telegram.
I remember "regret to inform you".
I remember the silent lunch where no food was eaten.
I remember returning to school.
I remember playtime spent alone sitting in the air-raid shelter.
I remember the cold and the dark.
I remember I did not cry.
I remember trying to understand.
I still remember.

He is buried, along with many others, in the beautifully maintained Military Cemetery at Ranchi in North East India where his grave is marked by a small grey stone bearing:

The insignia of the RAF,

The inscription:

1533197 CORPORAL
W D'ARCY
ROYAL AIR FORCE
30TH MAY 1945 AGED 38

and a simple cross

Brian G D'Arcy 27th November 2003

Postscript:

Thirty-eight years after his death, in August 1983, I visited his grave, together with my wife Debjani. Shortly after our visit she wrote the following poem for my mother:

A Square of the Raj
(For Laurinea D'Arcy)

In Ranchi two cemeteries lie side by side,
silent above the steamy plains.

The Christian cemetery, still in use,
has gone native and unkempt;
wild weeds straggle expansive
in a blasphemy of tall grass.
There is no thought of keeping up
with the departed Jones's over the wall

whose military plot orders a square
of the Raj, meticulous forever:
a puny foothold in the wilderness.
Tombstones stand in midget uniform size,
rows of English pocket handkerchief lawns
spread green in front, only kneeling space
to read the carved names on stone.

My husband and I come on a personal mission,
a family matter, an attempt at human meeting.
Like ghosts we glide in the soundless air.
1533197 CORPORAL
W D'ARCY
ROYAL AIR FORCE
30TH MAY 1945 AGE 38
reads a tablet, under RAF wings
and with a cross below;
clean-cut as on every stone of every
husband, brother, father, son.
Does he seem closer now, I wonder,
to the man who grips my brown hand?
Do all here sense our presence?
With flowers and Ganges water
I salute my father-in-law,
bid him and his comrades rest.

Three gardeners in sepoy khaki,
government-appointed, water and tend
the graves of strangers who shed
their bodies so far from home
in a fading bugle cry of empire.
They rush to don cloth caps and shoes
to be photographed at attention,
teeth flashing, by the obligatory memorial,
proud of their handiwork
this side of the wall.

'A Square of the Raj' is taken from Debjani Chatterjee's Albino Gecko (University of Salzburg Press, 1998). She retains copyright for this poem which is reproduced here with her permission.

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