Part 5 (2/2)
The train trip back was interesting. Theoretically I was on my own but there were many other soldiers on that train and in order to keep ourselves supplied with cool drinking water we all had our filled charguls hanging outside the carriage windows using the train's movement for quicker evaporation. After many miles we came across an unusual sight; there had been a derailment and rolling stock was strewed everywhere, blocking the line. A new track had been laid by-pa.s.sing the obstruction; as we slowly made our way along this loop most of the pa.s.sengers moved to the right side of the train to get a good look at the damage. When things returned to normal it was discovered that all the charguls had been removed from the left hand side of the carriages, railside Arabs knew that we would be occupied gawking and took advantage of our distraction; they found charguls useful too.
My second posting was to an army a.s.sembly plant at An Nasiriyah where the main job was the uncrating and a.s.sembly of those vehicles from the USA that were to be forwarded to the fighting areas My task there was insignificant and lasted only about three days. The boss man was a Colonel D'Albuquerque and he had arranged something that I thought novel for the army; he set a daily quota for the output of vehicles and when that target was reached then work finished for the day. A window in his office was fitted with a cuscus tatty, a poor man's air conditioner similar to the units fitted to the ambulances; water had to be sprayed over the unit and whenever his office became a little too warm he would summon an Indian soldier and using the universal mixed language would shout, ”Pani, Pani, Pumpee, Pumpee,” whereupon the Indian would grin and start pumping.
While I was there a shortage of small springs became apparent and some a.s.semblies were held up; now the crates invariably held every last item required to build the vehicles so a kit inspection was ordered; nothing was found. On further investigation an unusual bed was discovered; the owner had decided to improve his creature comforts and had diverted the springs and linked them together to provide a more luxurious charpoy for himself; his pleasure didn't last very long however, the colonel saw to that. I left before I could find out what punishment he got.
It was generally accepted that in the army a batman, an officer's servant, was a volunteer who wanted a softer life and a little more cash. Not always true. We had an officer who was so unpopular that n.o.body wanted the job and since it was infra-dig for a commissioned man to look after himself one soldier was ordered so to serve. If you doubt this then you should ask the aforementioned Lafferty who did his best to get out of this ch.o.r.e but without success. He tried to refuse to take the cash but was ordered to accept it; he held this job until someone else could be persuaded to take it on. Of course Lafferty should have thrown the money away or else given it to a deserving Arab.
At times we were taken off regular duties and given some military instruction and exercises. Various weapons were discussed, some were demonstrated and others we had to practice with. One which we only saw intrigued me, it was a mortar that went by the name of Blacker Bombard, it had a limited range and fired two types of bombs, smoke and high explosive; what seemed strange to me was that the lethal range of the high explosive bomb was greater than the distance that the bomb could be hurled. We didn't fire that one. We did take our turns at firing a two-inch mortar, both smoke and high explosive and when we all had had a go there were a few bombs left over. The sergeant asked if anyone would like to finish them off and the offer was taken up. There's always one in every crowd and this lad set the mortar as near vertical as he could and dropped in a high explosive bomb. The rest of us didn't wait around but radiated outwards faster than we ever thought possible. Fortunately near vertical was not really vertical and no injuries ensued.
My rifle which in Britain had been extremely accurate was no longer so when I retrieved it in Iraq, perhaps it had had a bad sea trip, got banged around or otherwise warped but it was so much off that I checked the serial number to be sure; it was mine. To complete the course we hurled a few Mills bombs, fired a Bren gun, marched around a bit and behaved as soldiers were supposed to do and then we returned to our more sedentary duties. The commissioned ranks had also to be kept up to scratch and a series of tactical exercises was introduced. An a.s.sorted collection of craftsmen, NCO's, a sergeant-major and a lieutenant was a.s.sembled one day together with their vehicles and other paraphernalia; they set off across the desert to a location that I believe was only a map reference. After two days the lieutenant had to admit that he was completely lost and so were they all. He was somewhat upset and said, ”I feel terrible, I ought to shoot myself.” and the sergeant-major enquired, ”Then why don't you -- Sir?” The suggestion was not taken however and a search party later led the group back to base.
Attempts were made to keep us occupied and clubs were formed. There was the musical appreciation group with its portable gramophone and limited records, the photographic club again with equipment scarcities, a current affairs program that naturally kept clear of politically sensitive subjects, while anyone interested could learn to drive an army lorry. One enterprising officer tried to revive an interest in calculus and actually collected a few members though how long the course lasted is anyone's guess.
Attached to us were some Indian Army troops under British officers; the make-up was a little unusual, many of the soldiers had been temporarily released form prison on the understanding that if they served for the duration of the war they would then become free men. Most of their crimes were of a political nature, some included murder. They seemed to have an intense loyalty towards their officers and I encountered them in the following way; for our sports minded colleagues just kicking a soccer ball around wasn't sufficiently satisfying, they wanted a regulation sized pitch marked out. The hard baked sand didn't take paint very well but discarded engine oil could be used instead. Since I could measure with a steel tape and knew how to construct right angles using the three, four, five principle and could count beyond 50 I was given the pitch proportions and told to get on with it. For help I was put in charge of six Indians who would hack out the narrow shallow channels with their picks along string lines that I had laid out and these they would fill with oil producing very dark lines. There were six of them all armed with picks and only one of me armed with an empty rifle. However I was told that they were quite harmless and could be persuaded to behave under the threat of confiscating their pay books which would have the effect of breaking their contracts resulting in their going back to prison. I had no trouble at all, in fact they were a cheery group quite happy to work.
In the army I came across quite a cross section of humanity, running the whole gamut of characters. I am reminded of a sergeant-major, a peace time regular, who discovered one day that things were missing from the Company Office; he decided to do something about it. In the office there was a large wicker basket used for laundry and into this he contorted himself pulling down the lid nearly shut so he could peep out and identify the thieves. He waited and waited but n.o.body came in because the word had got around; eventually he emerged very stiffly, defeated. Early one morning he had occasion to phone the captain; it was a wall mounted instrument, he took the receiver off its hook and stood rigidly to attention facing the mouthpiece; when the captain answered he snapped a perfectly smart salute and said, ”Good morning, Sir -- I am now saluting you.” And then he carried on with whatever else he had to say.
I forget exactly how it came about but one time when I was in Baghdad I got roped in for guard duty, this time it was to watch over a prisoner.
The prison was only a tent top surrounded with barbed wire and there was only one prisoner. It was all very informal, we chatted a bit and he didn't seem to be at all concerned with his predicament. I asked him what he was doing there and he said that he was being charged with theft. ”Of what?” I asked. ”A jeep,” he replied.
Apparently he had acquired a jeep and sold it to an Arab. ”For how much?” I asked. ”Four hundred dinars.” he answered. At that time the Iraqi dinar and the British pound were at par. He seemed to be quite happy, perhaps he had the money stashed away somewhere.
A new item was now added to our kit to improve our lot; to alleviate some of the discomfort and soreness around our s.h.i.+rt collars due to perspiration we were issued with scarves puggree, squares of light cloth, khaki coloured. This was the same material that was wound around the crowns of our pith helmets; some lads, fas.h.i.+on conscious, decided not to wear them in the accepted manner and this led to an order being issued to the effect that 'scarves puggree will be worn loosely around the neck and not in a triangular cowboy fas.h.i.+on.”
Most of us were cla.s.sified in one of many trades but there were a few who were not tradesmen and they were cla.s.sified as general duties and they could be given any task not requiring any special skill. Three of these were attached to the Company Office where their main duty seemed to be making tea. A vacancy occurred in one of the workshops for a clerical type and I was ordered to take this job on a short term basis, for about three weeks. I didn't jump at the chance, actually I didn't think much of the idea but I went. The work was simple, checking parts in and out of the shop and took in total less than 30 minutes a day and it was boring, boring. The three weeks stretched into six weeks and eventually into ten weeks. I complained several times that the job could be easily done by a general duties type but was constantly fobbed off. After a while I asked to see the colonel and then the bureaucracy slowly slipped into gear, my request went upwards from rank to rank until at last an appointment was made for two weeks hence. The very morning that I was to see the colonel I was told to get back to the DO again. When I approached him after going through the rigmarole of marching in, saluting smartly and agreeing that I was indeed the soldier he thought I was he said,
”You have a complaint?”
”Yessir.”
”You want to return to the Drawing Office?”
”Yessir.”
”But I see you are back there already.”
”Yessir, this morning”
”Then there doesn't seem to be any complaint now does there?”
”No Sir.”
”Now don't think that your return has anything to do with your making a complaint, it's purely coincidental.”
”No Sir, certainly not, Sir.” I lied.
”Dismiss.” I did so, inwardly fuming at having to take part in this farce that could have been settled weeks before at a lower level and which would have saved the colonel from looking so foolish.
Opportunities sometimes allowed us to do something out of the ordinary and two of us asked if we could spend our two weeks leave in Teheran, in Iran. Strangely enough permission was granted and we set off in the evening crossing into Iran at Ahwaz. The journey took about 20 hours pa.s.sing through Dizful, Khorramabad, Arak and Qum and countless numbers of tunnels through the mountain ranges before reaching Teheran. It was an interesting trip carried out in upholstered luxury. We were billeted in an army camp but were left to our own devices day and night. After Shaiba Teheran was a lively bustling city; we did some window shopping looking at the Russian made Leica cameras that were much cheaper than but inferior to those made in Germany. There was a plethora of uniforms about of various branches of various forces of various countries not counting the wonderful uniforms of the cinema doormen -- quite confusing; I was saluted several times by Russian soldiers who were probably just as uncertain as I was.
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