The Wrong Mutton, Boobs, Chariot Races and Home. ( Part 11)

Early in 1947, my mate Jack and I were given a week’s leave to go to a place called Beppu.

Beppu is on the island of Kyushu, which meant a very long train journey and in the course of which we went through a tunnel under the sea. The tunnel connects the island of Honshu to the island of Kyushu.

We shared a carriage with two Aussie servicemen and two Aussie Army Nurses. Me and Jack got on extremely well with the two nurses, one of which was called Mavis.

When we arrived at Beppu, Jack and I stayed at the Hakuun BCOF (British Commonwealth Overseas Forces) Hotel.  We were the only British servicemen there. All the others were either Australian or New Zealanders. We shared a room with two Maoris. They were big guys and every night would go out and get blind drunk. When they returned they would insist on doing the Hakka in their underpants before getting into bed!

Beppu is a strange place, famous for its “Hot Springs”.  These springs are said to have “Healing Powers”. The Japanese would come from miles around to either bath in them or have “Sand Baths”. This entailed digging a trench (shallow grave) in the warm sand beside the springs, laying in it and then covering yourself over with the sand so that only your head and shoulders could be seen.

Me and Jack went on a number of trips with Mavis and her friend during our time at Beppu and we even travelled back to Kure with them. They were staying in an Aussie Hospital on one of the Islands close by and we would often go to see them and accompany them to local dances.

Mavis and I kept in touch for years after I came back to the UK. We became “pen pals” and would write to each other every few months.

Back at HMS Commonwealth facilities improved mainly due to a visit from a delegation of MP’s from parliament. We were described as the “Forgotten Army”. We even got a swimming pool erected for when the weather got hot so that we had a chance to cool down.

Early in 1947, HMS Commonwealth acquired two 50 ton prefabricated freezers for storing meat. The idea was to supply meat to smaller ships such as frigates and destroyers that came into dock nearby. I was put in charge of storage and distribution. Supply ships would arrive and we would unload the meat and put it into the freezers. To be honest it all looked the same to me. There were lamb, beef, mutton and pig carcasses all thrown into the freezers. Obviously the bodies of beef were much bigger than the others but pig, sheep and mutton all looked very similar. I didn’t think it would make much difference so it was all stored together, after all, meat is meat. We supplied lots of ships with “meat” for months, then one day His Majesty’s Indian Ship Godavari anchored in the bay. The Indian supply officer signalled that he required a quantity of Halal mutton. Panic stations! How the hell we were to sort out what was Halal and what was not? We knew they were only in the bay for twenty four hours so played for time and eventually sent them the “meat” just an hour before they were due to leave. They would have no time to check it in and we would be in the clear. We sent them everything, Pork, Lamb, Mutton even Beef. I have no idea if they discovered our little mistake or not…

I June 1947 I was told that I was going to be de-mobbed. I had been in Japan for almost two years. It wasn’t long before a troop ship arrived to take me and Jack back home. It was the “S.S. Empress of Scotland”. What a rust bucket!

This was to be her last voyage before she went to the breakers yard. We were put in a troop deck at the bottom of the ship directly over the propeller. It was wet, damp and dark. We were only a day at sea when we ran into a storm. Heavy rain and waves crashed onto the upper deck and gradually seeped through to the bottom of the ship and ended up exactly where we were all asleep. It was like being in a giant shower room. We were knee deep in sea water. It took ages to pump it out and this happened every few days on the journey back. But we were on our way back home and that’s all that mattered to us.

Our first port of call was Hong Kong. Jack and I went ashore by a funny old ferry to a place called Wan Chai. Hong Kong was just a naval base back then. No skyscrapers or imposing buildings, in fact there wasn’t much there at all. I found an old barbers shop and got my haircut, apart from that there was nothing to do!

Next we stopped off at Singapore. It wasn’t a separate country in those days just a town at the end of the Malayan peninsular surrounded by Jungle. We were there for three days and it never stopped raining. Some of the best and most terrifying thunder and lightning I have ever seen.

Jacks girlfriend had written to him and told him that a mutual female friend of theirs was in the ATS and stationed in Changi in southern Singapore. On our last day we decided to brave the elements and pay her a visit. We got a taxi to take us there but after hours of walking around the hospital and barracks we never found her. The journey did have one bonus however. There were all these ATS  girls up on a balcony, all looking down at me and Jack and waiving and whistling at us. Then they all started counting. “One…Two…Three… on the number three they all lifted their tops and flashed their boobs at us! I’d never seen so many breasts in all shapes and sizes...

Next stop was Bombay in India. One of the reasons for calling there was because this was the period of “Partition”. India was in the process of splitting into India and Pakistan. There was a lot of unrest in the country and English families were being moved out of the country and back to the UK. The Empress of Scotland was to take some of these families on board. We were all excited by this news as we thought there were bound to be girls coming aboard. Unfortunately we never saw any of them. They were kept “safe” in another part of the ship. Probably for the best as we were all hot, sweaty and rather un-hygienic.

We only had one night in Bombay. We went ashore and had a meal at a restaurant. We had a few beers and met up with some other naval ratings and were steadily getting drunk. We were all on strict orders to be back on board at midnight. Someone suddenly shouted out that it was close to curfew and we all needed to hurry up or we’d be in big trouble. There were a couple of horse drawn taxis outside the restaurant and we all jumped on board. In our drunken state we convinced the drivers of these taxis to race each other down to the docks. So there we were racing through the streets of Bombay in horse drawn carts. It was like the chariot scene from Ben Hur!

Next it was Port Said at the southern end of the Suez Canal. We anchored in the bay and were not allowed ashore. My abiding memory of the place was the heat and the barren landscape, not a sign of greenery anywhere.

Unfortunately I was suffering badly with infected feet “Tinea Pedis”, a rather bad case of athlete’s foot, due to the damp, heat and the woollen socks! To add to my problems I had a small scratch on my leg that some flying insect took a liking to and decided to have a bite in it. I didn’t want to go to the sick bay but walking was getting more and more difficult. An officer saw me limping, took one look at my leg and ordered me to the ships hospital. I was admitted immediately. By this time we had sailed through the Suez Canal and were now in the Mediterranean.

It was lovely to sleep in a bed with clean sheets, lots of room between beds and most importantly to be dry.

On the down side, twice I day I had to soak my feet in scalding water that contained a solution of Permanganate. I remember it stung like hell and stained my feet a mahogany brown colour. My leg was bandaged up with some kind of poultice to draw out the poison. Because of being in the hospital I never saw the Med or the straights of Gibraltar. I was discharged from the hospital just a day before we arrived at Liverpool for disembarkation.

Jack and I were part of the baggage party in charge of getting all the gear off the ship. This took some time and as a result we the last to travel down to Chatham barracks. Once there we had absolutely nothing to do. So instead of just hanging around we were sent home on “extended leave” until our demob papers came through.

It was the summer of 1947 and my Mum knew that I would be home soon but had no idea when. So every afternoon she would sit by the open window that looked out onto the main road below. She saw a taxi arrive outside and when she saw me get out she was so excited that she nearly fell through the open window. At last I was home.