Reflections by a retired REME Major on the highlights of a career in the Army during the period 1946-1955

Scribe: Anonymous

Iam now 91, born during those difficult days of the early 1930s, into a family finding it difficult to make ends meet. No indoor loo, just a trip down the garden to the “thunder box”. I hope readers will appreciate that after reading this article that it is possible for a person of similar circumstances to carve an interesting and rewarding career in our Corps of REME. Of course, it requires effort by the individual, a degree of good fortune and encouragement from their superiors.

I wore the Royal Artillery cap badge until REME Phase 2 was implemented. An Instructor at the Armament and Electrical Trades School at Bordon on that cold day in October 1952 when we paraded and changed our cap badges.

Prior to joining the Army as a boy soldier, I had secured a place at a grammar school following a period as an evacuee in a mining village in South Wales. Life at this school was not easy. The teaching staff were very old as many younger ones were away fighting. I recall that my arts Teacher was 80 years old. The maths Teacher was my favourite, he was in charge of cricket!! Despite it being a grammar school, the syllabus was uninspiring compared to that of today. For instance, Biology - “10 questions on birds’’. Not a word had ever been spoken about birds!! I usually scored 0-2 ! So much emphasis was given to remembering historical dates instead of discussing historical events. Fortunately, I had access to illustrated history books held by my Uncle.

Living in South East Kent, our studies were often interrupted by the VI “doodle bugs” and later the V2 rocket. Homework was frequently interrupted by air raids.

At my grammar school I was deemed good enough to captain the under 14 Cricket team but not identified as an academic genius destined for fame in the world of law or politics! I might point out that in those days being left handed was a disadvantage for those keen on a career in such professions. We found great difficulty writing with pen and ink. The ball point pen had not been invented! We “sinistrals” were not welcome for employment in offices.

And so, in June l945, just after the end of the war in Europe, it was decided by my parents that I should go to an Army School for a 3 Year Apprenticeship. You should note that at the tender age of 14 I was not a party to that decision.

My lofty Headmaster was horrified at the idea that one of his boys wanted to join the Army and refused to give me a reference. My village Vicar did so to save the day.

On the 10 February 1946 at the age of 14 years and 8 months, I left home and travelled for about 8 hours to reach my destination, Beachley Camp near Chepstow. There followed the inevitable documentation and the issue of uniform and kit. Upon entry into my assigned barrack room I was immediately presented with a broom and ordered by a boy corporal to clean the toilets! For my bedding I was loaded down with a mattress consisting of three filled bags known as ‘biscuits’, four rough blankets and two pillows. At that time, I was but 4 feet and 10 inches in height and weighed 5 stone and 13 lbs. No linen for my first year at that school! I was so tired and bewildered at that point that I crawled into my new style bed. The next morning, I got out of bed into a very cold room with no heating (it was February) and told to light a stove situated in the middle of a room approximately 30 yards long. No central heating in those days! Within a few hours I had been made aware of my place in the pecking order! So that was my introduction to life in the Army!

The next morning, we marched to the dining room with our one-pint mug and utensils behind our backs for our first meal. I did not like the taste of the tea. Later I discovered that bromide had been added. I will leave the reader to figure that one out!

During our first year we were paid 12.5p (2s 6p) per week out of which we had to purchase our cleaning and toilet needs. Some money was held back for periods of leave. When I joined the school my issued greatcoat nearly reached my ankles and my Mother cried when she first saw me in uniform!

Slowly I adapted to my new life of technical training, parades and coping with being the smallest boy in our group. I enjoyed playing cricket for the school for two seasons. I recall that dreadful winter of

1947 when we had to clear the snow towards Chepstow in order to obtain our supplies of fuel and food. However, I survived the experiences at that school and in retrospect, it must have developed my character.

Soon after leaving that school in early 1949, I joined a Royal Artillery unit at Exeter under orders to go to Hong Kong as the Korean threat was looming. The song “A Slow Boat to China” was a hit at that time. Much to my annoyance I was considered to be too young to go as I was under 18 years old. So, I was sent to a remote camp in the middle of Salisbury Plain, miles from anywhere and with live shells being fired over the camp by units on exercise! After some months agitating to leave, I was moved on! At least I learned to drive whilst in that area, so my time was not entirely wasted.

During the period 1949 until the beginning of 1954 I spent the time gaining experience in England attending various courses, passing exams, earning promotions and lecturing National Servicemen, some keen others really reluctant, on various engineering subjects associated with heavy armaments. It was during this period that I transferred to the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers.

So, February 1954 is really the beginning of my travels to ‘exotic’ places overseas when I boarded the troopship Dunera destined for Pusan the Southern port of South Korea. At this stage the fighting had stopped and an uneasy truce had been signed between North Korea, China and the United Nations Forces. My journey took me via Port Said, Aden, Colombo Sri Lanka, Singapore and Hong Kong. To my delight I was informed when the ship left Hong Kong that I would not be disembarking at Pusan but was to join the Commonwealth Forces Workshop located in Kure in Southern Honshu, Japan.

Several miles out at sea on our approach to Pusan we detected a nasty smell which persisted until we were well away from that place again. It was many years later that I discovered that that smell was human excrement which local farmers used to fertilise their fields! My first introduction to those romantic and exotic far Eastern lands! However, all was well when I disembarked at Kure; setting foot on the hull of a Japanese battleship which had been sunk during the latter stages of WW2.

My task at the military workshop in Kure was to supervise a Japanese workforce; completely overhauling the Centurion MK 3 MBT and its variants together with a few other armoured vehicles sent back from the Korean war zone. It was interesting to observe how adept and hard-working the Japanese worker can be at the various tasks presented to him. Never use brute force when there is the overhead crane available! An additional task was for me to visit the Commonwealth Battle School located some l0 miles away at Haramira to ensure that equipment was functioning efficiently.

It was during one of my visits to Haramira, I accidentally clipped the end of a local farmer’s bicycle with the Jeep that I was driving and his box of fish scattered across the dirt road. It was my fault but he, bowing very low, insisted on apologising to me for the incident! This just explains the deference of so called “low class” people in Japan in those days. No cases of road rage in that country!

This Battle School was run by the Australians and was established to give ‘green troops’ experience of operating under live ammunition conditions before going to the Korean war zone. I understand that the course allowed for up to 10% casualties! It was there that I was stupid enough to sit on the cupola of a centurion tank to observe tracer shells being fired into the distant hills. I did not realise that the recoil blast from the gun muzzle had damaged my hearing. There were no health and safety rules in those days and I had not put on hearing muffs. In fact, such things were not available in those days. Perhaps just a piece of cotton wool would have helped!

The workshop consisted of British, Australian and Canadian personnel commanded by an Australian. My boss was also an Australian.

The main task for our workshop at Kure was to completely overhaul the Jeep and Bedford 3-ton QL. Output was 7 Jeeps and 3 Bedfords per day. Engines, gearboxes and axles at Kure and the assembly lines at Hiro a few miles from Kure. The building at Hiro was previously an aircraft factory used by the Japanese during the war. Kits, known as “Jap Packs” contained the anticipated spares needed to overhaul major assemblies.

During my one year stay in Japan, I had the opportunity to visit Hiroshima, situated about 12 miles from Kure; which included a visit to the atom bomb memorial building. I visited the nearby ancient island of Miya Jima (real name ltsuku-Shima known to the Japanese as the island where God dwells) with the impressive water Torii, a red painted wooden structure built at the entrance to the island’s small harbour. Later I went to Setoda on the small island of lkuchi where I visited the lovely Kosan-Ji Temple which houses the multi-armed figure of Kannon, Goddess of Mercy and many other interesting objects. I was able to spend a very interesting and informative week in Tokyo visiting the many tourist sights. I developed a keen interest in photography at this time but found the hobby too expensive for my limited finances. Unfortunately, and much to my regret, I was unable to visit Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan.

However, during my year in Japan I was invited by a local evening School Principal to coach his students in the idiosyncrasies of the English language and at the same time they could listen to our language spoken by an Englishman with no dialect! I do recall that the classroom had no heating system and it was damned cold during those lessons! I remember that the Japanese had great difficulty sounding the letter ‘F’ as it does not exist in their language. A very interesting and rewarding experience.

On Christmas Day 1954 we decided to play a Test Match between us British and our Australian colleagues. All wrapped up against the cold and not looking at all like cricketers we played our game on a concrete surface during which time we lost a number of balls in the adjacent harbour situated by our camp. Nobody volunteered to dive in and retrieve the lost balls!

Much to my frustration whenever I attempted my limited knowledge of Japanese the locals would always reply in English! Such was their enthusiasm to learn our language.

Despite the awful atrocities committed by the Japanese during WW2, I can but say that my lasting memories of the people are very favourable. They were always polite, respectful and kind. War can corrupt minds. However, it was difficult to really penetrate the Asian mind.

I can go on and on about my enjoyable one year stay in Japan but it is April 1955 and I was to board the troopship Asturias and travel to my next posting to Egypt and the delights of life on the Canal Zone at Fayid. I was far from being enthusiastic at the prospect!