As HMT Aronda approached Bombay we eagerly scanned the coastline and
almost at once discerned that imposing arch The Gateway to India but
there was not too much time to spend sightseeing as we had to prepare to
disembark. The ship docked and a little later we were making our way
down the gangplank. Partway down I could see a commotion on the
quayside; three military policemen were holding down a prone figure;
though his face was flat where it was being pressed against the quay I
recognised him as being the prisoner from the ship's brig. He had
attempted to escape custody once more but again he had failed; I think
he didn't like the army very much. We fell into position by drafts and
waited and waited; it was mid-day and getting very hot. We stood in
formation for about an hour, eventually our guide arrived to lead us to
our billets; he was Indian Army, somewhere around five feet tall and he
set off at a blistering pace. We quick marched behind him and when I
say quick I mean it, with his short legs he had a short stride and we
longer-legged ones kept up with difficulty. After a mile or so we
entered Colaba Camp, this was to be our home for a while.
Now started our introduction to things Indian. The teeming masses and
the number of people sleeping in the streets surprised me as did the
apparent disregard for personal safety amongst the traffic. New words
came into our vocabularies the origins of which sometimes go back to the
many countries that British forces have garrisoned over the last three
centuries. Some military personnel must obviously have become
proficient in the local languages but for the most part the British
soldier was and still is linguistically lazy, content to adopt and
sometimes anglicise foreign words and phrases to suit the occasion.
Strangely enough using some English mixed with some foreign phrases and
body language the soldiers usually made themselves understood by the
locals who probably thought that all the words were English. At times
it led to some interesting exchanges.
However at this stage we were introduced to mainly Indian words,
charpoys for rope beds, chatties for unglazed urns, pani for water,
jaldi for quick and many, many more. We met some of the regular army
characters who had spent years in India and gleaned snippets of
information from them. Were there any poisonous creatures around?
Well, yes, scorpions for one thing. What about snakes? There are
several different sorts here. Very poisonous? Yes, especially the hoop
snake. Hoop snakes? never heard of them. Oh, they are very fast but if
they can't catch up with you by wriggling they put their tails in their
mouths and bowl themselves along like hoops. Our legs were often pulled
like this until we became in turn the seasoned leg-pullers of the new
arrivals.
The camp CO used to ride around on a white horse and occasionally he
would give us a pep talk; to those of us who were getting a bit too
boisterous he said, "Most of you before the war were law abiding
citizens but once you've put on a uniform and moved away from home you
think you've become licensed buccaneers. Behave yourselves." There
was a fair amount of spare time before we expected to move again and we
spent a lot of it looking over this main port of The British Raj. The
Gateway to India that we had earlier glimpsed as we steamed into dock
was the first thing to see and we were duly impressed. Then there was
the centre of Bombay, we wandered along Hornby Street to the Kodak shop
where I bought a film for my vest-pocket Kodak. Unfortunately the camera
had developed a pinhole in the bellows and most of my pictures were
spoiled. A couple of evenings were spent at the cinemas, watching
Hollywood films that were about two years old. We also visited a zoo
(Victoria?) where strangely, amongst other creatures, we saw in
captivity English sparrows Other unexpected sights included cows
wandering unhindered through the streets and carts drawn by camels. In
one of the main streets my attention was caught by the sight of a
turbaned Indian who was sitting cross-legged putting on a show, pitting
a cobra against a mongoose. I didn't feel like staying for the finale,
I guess he had to separate the combatants or else go looking for a new
snake.
Our stay in India was not very long, a matter of a couple of weeks or so
but long enough to give us a feel for the country. Under the British Raj
there didn't seem to be much evidence of the inter-religious hostility
that would result in such a blood bath at Independence and partition in
1948. Political struggle there was and some anti-British sentiment but
it didn't seem pervasive to us. Little booklets were issued to us that
outlined the history and customs of India, (the term India was
all-inclusive in those days, both Hindu and Moslem) and listed
population densities together with a glossary of useful words and
phrases. Other words and phrases not in the booklet we picked up from
contact with the older and more experienced soldiers. At that time we
also learned that the Indian Army was entirely separate from the
British, with its own Viceroy commissioned officers whom we did not have
to salute, and the ranks of Subahdar, Jemadar and Havildar were added to
our vocabularies. During our short stay draft RDGFA suffered its first
casualty, Cfn Love was whisked off to hospital and later succumbed to a
brain tumour.
Our accommodation was in long huts that in memory appeared to be
permanent; we found the charpoys quite comfortable and the bell-shaped
mosquito nets that dangled from the ceiling gave us uninterrupted
nights. Food was sufficient, plenty of rice in various guises and
frequent curries that despite the warm weather seemed to cool one
down. There was also the usual NAAFI store and fresh fruit could be
purchased daily.
Too soon the time came to move on and we rejoined HMT Aronda; we got
aboard and were assigned our places, immediately I was given some task
to perform, I forget what but while I was so engaged the stores were
opened and everyone drew hammocks; by the time I had finished the stores
had closed. Ah, well, I was now used to roughing it so I elected to
sleep on the bench seat of a mess table, a plank about one foot wide;
again my life-jacket became my pillow and I slept like a babe. I never
did draw my hammock.
The seas were calm as we steamed away from Bombay on a north-westerly
course, we lost sight of land but now we had an idea of where we were
going. The skies were cloudless and the sun blazed down on us for 12
hours every day; thick canvas awnings were erected over the passageways
on each side of the ship. "Keep wearing your topees," we were
told, "harmful rays can penetrate the awnings." I believe we took
four days or more to reach our destination passing from the Arabian Sea
into the Persian Gulf; the journey was quite uneventful, we spent the
days doing very little, looking at the water, playing cards, eating,
dozing and listening to even more of Deanna Durbin over the inter-com.
With faint memories of maps in our minds we tried to identify Bandar
Shapur and Bandar Abbas on the starboard side with uncertain success. In
the afternoon of the last day we entered the Shatt-el-Arab and headed
for Basra; now there was a little more to see. The waterway was
relatively narrow and we passed through the dense groves of the palm
trees that lined both banks, however at intervals we came to small
inlets intended no doubt to give access inland and here the effect of
water upon plant life became apparent. The tall palms at the river's
edge gave way to more stunted ones further inland and a couple of
hundred yards from the river the desert began.
It was past midnight when we docked at Marquil, we disembarked and got
ourselves sorted out. Then we loaded our bits and pieces and ourselves
on to waiting lorries and set forth towards our new temporary home,
No.15 Reinforcement Transit Camp, a tented camp. We were now members of
PAIFORCE, the Persia and Iraq force.