109 MU ABYAD 1949-51
'FINALLY'
As Remembered By George Andrew
On embarking on the Empire Test, a 3000 ton ‘tub’ from Liverpool we were assigned to our home for the next ten days, the front deck – under the water line and housing 120 men. Mess tables were bolted to the floor and we strung our hammocks from the hooks available. I made my first mistake by volunteering to be one of the two Mess Orderlies for our table of 12.
All was fine until we reached the Irish Sea where the vulnerability of the ship to any level of disturbance in the water became evident. We were sitting at our table when the world suddenly turned sideways accompanied by a strange scrapping sound caused by our kitbags and kit sliding across the floor to hit the side of the room … a brief pause before our luggage and everything not nailed down slid back across the deck. The sudden dipping of the Empire Test from bow to stern complicated this lateral movement. The flotsam, jetsam and bodies of the aircraftsmen now moving in a variety of directions while the contents of the majority of the stomachs joined the medley, making the passage of the mobile gear easier on the now dangerously slippery floor.
And so it continued, day and night while we passed into the dreaded Bay of Biscay. Food didn’t become an issue for some time and my new role as provider was not brought into action until recovery of the strongest sailors amongst us had started. Then there was a route along the side of the ship to the galley where food was waiting in heavy metal lidded containers, to be carried back and fed to the hungry.
By contrast the journey across the Mediterranean was pure bliss. Once the sun had dried out our scrubbed gear we were able to enjoy the tranquillity of sailing across waters that were, on occasions, like a sheet of rich blue glass.
Port Said was a revelation. Having embarked and been allocated to trains the first impression was of surprise that there were no windows, just open panels where we were besieged by a motley crew of assorted shapes and sizes of Arabs wanting to make our day by selling us their wares. Probably the worst … or best… were the young boys with their bottles of Coca Cola. They boosted their success rate by insisting that a ‘customer had agreed to buy… after they had whipped the top off the bottle … which then had, in theory, to be bought. Several airmen were conned by astute bargaining for watches, only to find later that they were duds. Probably the most disturbing cases were when the train started to move off, as it gathered speed youngsters would leap on to the side and dig their nails into the arms of anyone careless enough to have rested on the bottom of the window frame. As the train gathered speed the nails would scratch along the arm, removing the victim’s watch as the young thief, not yet a teenager, leapt off.
On arrival at 109 MU Abyad we were informed that we would be accommodated in tents since there had been an emergency concerning an outbreak of typhoid and the huts had been evacuated. Coincidentally the cookhouse had also burnt down.
Life under canvas was pleasant and our routine was swiftly established. Breakfast at 6 am then into work by seven, NAAFI break at ten and lunch at one o’clock. The rest of the day was usually spent on the playing fields – or playing sands – football and cricket in season.
Once we were established in our hut we became more organised, particularly on the sports front. Virtually everyone was fanatical about football and we soon formed our hut team. The twin sons of Harry Gold, the bandleader of Pieces of Eight, Morton & Leslie, were Tottenham Hotspur fans and they arranged for copies of the Spurs shirt badge (a cockerel) to be sent out. We were highly competitive and won the inter-hut cup and medals.
Leslie Gold is back row, right, while his twin brother, Morton, is sitting at the front on the left.