ROYAL MILITARY POLICE - 1945-48
"Further Recollections"
As Remembered By Bill Perrett
With the help of letters lately discovered I have been able to trigger additional memories of those involved times long ago. Events remaining undisturbed for years now to surface as if only yesterday. So I pick the bones of refreshed memories to bring a personal smile, or even a grimace….
En-route to the mysterious Middle East in those far off days of 1946 our Provost Unit destined for Egypt sailed across the Channel to Calais. Here we were to strangely board a comfortable British train for our journey to the south of France, and a port of embarkation for our troops to cross the Mediterranean. The train earlier brought over the channel, due to the French rolling stock being in no condition to be used. It was notable they were more comfortable with padded seats, whereas French carriages were fitted out with basic slatted wooden benches.
It was forecast the journey would take between 24 and 36 hours, depending on the route taken. Some disruption was expected due to damage of the track system which became very obvious, though new buildings were being hastily constructed. German prisoners were being extensively employed throughout the district, when the hundreds of defeated soldiers toiled away to help restore the crumbling infrastructure. It was a sober sight for us all.
We had left Dover about 2pm on the Friday afternoon aboard a vessel which took near a couple of hours to reach the other side. Before we had left our home port a hot meal was provided along with 50 free cigarettes. After that our money was changed into British Army Currency, which could only be used at controlled places and certain shops. A visit to the local NAAFI was then arranged when we stocked up on more cigarettes, soap and other personal items before final departure to the south of France, and onward.
Whilst there were many of our soldiers embarking, myself and three others were selected to ensure those on board the train were looked after during the journey with refreshments. As we travelled slowly en-route in the steam train both French and Germans were hanging around the stations we passed through, or even paused at. Most were dishevelled and looking to scrounge cigarettes; many of us were happy to throw one or two out through the window. A desperate scramble then took place among those gathered by the track, including children who were more adept at seizing a prize.
On reaching Toulon our final port of embarkation, we were informed that we might remain there for at least a week until a boat became available. It was suggested there was good entertainment in the town, but was expensive. We were then advised to keep a close watch on our money.
While we were waiting for the next stage of our journey, duty called to patrol the streets of Hyeres, a nearby town which offered more interest than the busy port. We would nod to the French police as passing by, we being there only to ensure there was no trouble with our troops. The only incident noted was a couple of British army officers showing the effects of ample French wine; Gendarmerie smiled and just gazed up to the heavens to shake their heads. As it happens we were only delayed a few days before a boat arrived for the journey to Egypt.
Once we were settled aboard the ‘Clan Lamont’ a ship registered in Glasgow, we cast off. Apparently we were to hug the coastline to reach Port Said which made the journey more interesting. A solitary volcano appeared in the sea near the Italian coastline which was quite something, as we journey through the straits of Italy and Sicily, after also slipping between the waters of Sardinia and Corsica.
The Middle East was ahead and unknown to most of us, to be our home for the immediate future; what dangers were we to face within this mysterious continent?
I have already written elsewhere about arriving in Egypt, and a hugely mysterious Cairo. Would it be interesting to go back to that place of yesterday, briefly maybe? Today’s hordes of global tourists are treading a path visiting the wonders of an old world. For me returning to that past time may not be real; then there was no stark commercialism. It was a truly different world near seventy years ago!
As I complete my musings of those historical journeys, I am reminded by writings to my parents back at the UK.
A letter of March 8th 1947. I was sitting in the Club Mohamed Aly in Cairo, writing home on the club’s headed notepaper; it was eight in the evening. While on patrol and visiting the club when a waiter sporting the usual red fez brought me the notepaper, when I had time to write a short note. There was no tension on such premises; but noticeable on the streets of the capital!
The time had come to finally leave Egypt, certainly as far as Cairo itself was concerned. The move was complete by Friday 3rd May 1947. Our new destination Gaza in Palestine was reached after a long road journey through the moving sands of the Sinai, and steep bends on many partly hidden roadways. It was a gruelling task for the truck drivers with those road conditions.
Then our new home. Gone the cockroach infested block of flats in Cairo; now swapped for life under canvas in a field of sand. This time though we had a different set of creepies! Ants, lizards and the venomous scorpion! There was a naturalist in the tent who was interested in these small creatures and he asked any of us to capture them in a large matchbox. I was the first to scoop up something that had scuttled through the sand. I carefully had a peep as I slid open the box – a stinger came out – it was a scorpion!
One of the most memorable and truly incredible occasions in Palestine was a day trip to Jerusalem. We were off duty and just tourists for a short time. This was Sunday, 7th September 1947. Bethlehem was first and we visited the Church of Nativity to see the manger and the notable birthplace. This was followed by a visit to the Church of all Nations, by the Garden of Gethsemane. This magnificent church had been funded by all nations. Whilst inside we were to hear something that has stayed with me ever since. A lone chorister gave forth with a faultless and moving rendition of Ava Maria. This stunning performance echoed throughout the entire, otherwise silent, church. We then had a chance to visit two other churches where I signed the visitor’s books. Perhaps to return another day and remember.
As we left Jerusalem the sun was going down and casting amazing shadows over
the beautiful and historical city. It had been an incredible day.