Percy Smith's War Diary - Part 10

In the autumn of 1942 we moved house again to what was to be our last location in Scotland, a small village called Sturtfield, about twelve miles inland from Peterhead. It was the furthest north we ever got. However, so far every town and village we had been in had given us a warm welcome and this was no exception. We moved in the morning and I think most of the lads had their feet under someone’s table in the evening. Those that didn’t enjoyed the hospitality of Mrs. Beddie, the proprietor of the only pub which was next to the village hall, our new billet, and directly opposite was a small garage which was to be our workshop, so it was all very convenient. As usual, all the Troop Carriers were spread out in units along the coast. In a short time we got to know the local people so well it was almost like a family. So much so that at times it paid to be careful with their social chit-chat.

Our Sergeant ( George Jack from Edinburgh), a very good socializer, thought that as we occupied the village hall we would put on a ‘Social’ once a week. This took the form of a whist drive, tea and a cake and a bit of a concert or singsong after, which made quite a long evening and was a great success.

The ‘locals’ were so marvellous that when Christmas came round (1942) instead of our dinner being served up army style, they came in with white tablecloths, proper plates and cutlery and I think there was also a bit of decoration as well. As well as this there was the local dignitary, a retired General, Sir John Burnett-Stewart, who had come at the invitation of the OC, a sort of Guest of Honour. We had previously been warned to be especially clean and tidy, no drunks or swearing. At a given time we had to parade outside and then march in, in an orderly fashion, and take our seats. The dinner was wonderful after which there was a toast to the King. The OC gave some well chosen words of welcome to our honoured guest, the General replied and complimented us on our good behaviour during our stay in Stuartfield, but giving us words of comfort he said that the pattern of the war was such that he did not think that it would be very long before our services would be required overseas, therefore he wished us all a very happy Christmas and good fighting in the New Year, to which one little chap was heard to mutter afterwards “It’s all right for that old Bugger, he’s home and dry”.

So for a few weeks life settled down to 1943, then there were rumblings that the old Generals’ words might come true. Inoculations and vaccinations were brought up to date. Generally home-based companies were understaffed but these deficiencies were now being made up, not always with the best characters as holding battalions ( the armies’ labour exchanges) liked to get rid of chaps who were troublesome.

About the end of February it became official that we were preparing to go overseas, but it must be kept a secret, which meant that the whole village knew before we did. We were being given embarkation leave and as Muriel and I had become engaged the previous December (13th), the question was, would we get married before I went away. Her family first wanted it left until after the war when her brother James, who was a POW in Germany and studying to be a Methodist Minister would be home to marry us. There was however a lot to be said for getting married straight away, so one morning, just before coming off guard duty at about six o’clock , I rang her up and asked her if we could do it the next weekend, which I believe was a bit of a shock at that time in the morning. Eventually I think I put my leave off for a week later, so that they could make the arrangements which I had rather hoped would be kept to a minimum, but when I arrived in Edinburgh only a day or so before, everything had been laid on in spite of the war, rationing, shortages or anything else. Their friends had contributed their rations to make a cake with the exception of the icing, but at the reception the hotel had a cardboard look-alike which was regularly used for that purpose. There were so many presents we couldn’t believe it. One of Muriels’ friends had lent her a wedding dress. My Sergeant (Sgt. Jack who lived in Edinburgh) had agreed to be my best man. My mother and father could not both come owing to the business, so Father came up on a night train, had a quick breakfast, a wash, a tour of Edinburgh in the morning (his first time out of England), went to the wedding in the afternoon, then to the reception and back on the night train. He seemed a little tired after that!

So, we were married on 13th March,1943. Of course we did our best to enjoy the two weeks together, every day was so precious, but in the middle of a world war, not knowing what the future holds, is not a good background for a wedding, but once again, lots of others were in the same boat. As it turned out I was to be away for the next two and a half years, but with a safe return I was more fortunate than some.

Before we actually left Stuartfield Ruth and Muriel did come up for a weekend and spent a couple of nights at the local grocer’s shop and that was it until after the war.

The next few days were of course very busy with getting everything prepared for the boat. We had not been told where we were going, though one barrack room lawyer said that if we were issued with pith helmets we would be going to India. Behold one morning we were issued with pith helmets so that was it, we were going to India!

By this time everyone in the village knew we were leaving, but they weren’t supposed to know when, so of course the day we left the whole village turned out to wave and say goodbye. They had been wonderful people.

It has previously been mentioned that the job I was doing was unofficial. This was now to be put right as we were going overseas and I was therefore Corporal P.H. Smith with three assistants. It would now be about early April, 1943.

The vehicles were duly formed up one morning and following in convoy we arrived at the docks at Gouroch, west of Glasgow. The vehicles were loaded on a cargo ship and then we were marched to another boat which had been fitted out as a troop carrier. Our particular deck was again a large area with long tables stretching out from each side with a gangway in the middle. There were twenty men and an NCO to each table. On my table I think I must have been given all the riff-raff, a couple had come out of prison to join us. Once again we slept in hammocks, which is not too bad when you get used to it as the hammock takes care of the roll of the ship when the sea is a bit rough. As usual the army couldn’t bear to see us doing nothing so there was P.T., boat drill, lectures and always something. Our ship of course had to join up with a convoy which I think formed up somewhere round Northern Ireland.

For the third time for me, Britain disappeared into the distance and we were at sea. We were to be at sea about fourteen days and we had not been out very long before we were asked to hand in the pith helmets, so we were not going to India after all. That was one secret cleverly kept. Soon after, in a lecture, we were told it was to be North Africa, landing at Algiers. We would be joining the 1st Army, though really by this time the outcome of the campaign was coming to its successful conclusion.

It was quite an experience being part of a large convoy with ships in all directions. It was interesting going through the Straights of Gibralter in the moonlight, I suppose it was planned that way for safety. Fortunately our voyage was smooth and without incident, though on arrival at Algiers, before we docked, the Navy were dropping depth charges and there seemed to be some sort of alert. I had not previously imagined that when a depth charge goes into the sea there is much the same effect as a bomb on land. However it didn’t seem to come to anything so things settled down according to plan and it was nice to get onto dry land even though it was a very strange place.

After spending the winter in the north of Scotland, we had hardly been trained for summer in North Africa, so this took a bit of getting used to. As regards our few months in North Africa, I don’t remember hearing a shot or bomb fired in anger (thank goodness) but there seemed to be plenty to do. We eventually settled, or camped, in the open country, close to a small place called Medez-el-Bab which we understood had changed hands so many times during the fighting that the local Arabs didn’t care who won so long as they stayed. Most of the Arabs were extremely poor, it was quite usual to see the man of the family riding a pathetic-looking donkey and the lady walking behind with a string of children who didn’t seem to have any difficulty in carrying large bundles on their heads. This was French North Africa and these people seemed to rely very much on working for the apparently rich, French settlers, who were living a very comfortable life up in the hills. We were stationed not actually in a desert but perhaps a kind of wilderness, where very little grew. There were a couple of small Nissan huts in a bit of a clearing, one we used as an office and the other as a quartermaster’s stores, everything else, including us, was under canvas. We slept in small bivouac tents which were made for two and not much else. If you wanted to stand up you could dig a trench down through the middle, which most of us did. Occasionally a small snake or reptile could be found under the bed but fortunately I don’t think there was anything of a dangerous nature.

Something which was very unpleasant in North Africa was the awful smell of dead horses which were left by the Germans in the hot African sun. It was a bit of a surprise to find they had used so many in that kind of country which was really cruel. They were of course also a breeding ground for millions of flies.

With the dust and the hot sun it was impossible to keep clean for very long but at least you could wash clothes and the first ones would be dry before you had finished. We had to be careful with water as it had to be brought in by tanker. Flies and mosquitoes were a curse, especially as the mosquitoes carried malaria. We slept with mosquito nets and we were issued with Mepocryne tablets each day which were supposed to minimize the malaria if you got it. I never did, but some of the lads were really ill, it almost seemed a matter of whether or not they liked your blood. Of course the flies got on the food which meant stomachs were often upset. We never had a proper mess room, so with being out in the open, the Arab kids would watch us eat and if there was anything we didn’t eat they would fight for it — we felt quite guilty having our meals at times. They would sometimes have an egg which they would exchange for a bit of tea or a cigarette, the strange thing was we seldom saw any chickens but the eggs were perfectly OK. At times the kids would be a pest and I think the only word in that country we ever learnt was ‘Imshee’, which in Arabic meant ‘ Bugger off’!

Having arrived at the scene when it was all over the immediate item was the hundreds of thousands of Prisoners of War, so our vehicles were kept busy in this direction, although there were so many that they were organising themselves a lot of the time. For about two weeks they were walking past our camp about 5 or 6 abreast on their way to prison camp, even driving themselves in their own vehicles. Occasionally some would stop for a rest and try to have a chat, it seemed strange exchanging family photos with Germans or Italians who seemed happy to do so. It was also rather odd that they didn’t appear to be very keen on each other. Some of these chaps were so hungry they would be glad to swap a valuable watch for a tin of corned beef.

Although the battles in North Africa were over, there was still a certain amount of danger. The French were very much pro-Vichy at the time and it was not known what their reactions would be. Fortunately, as far as we could tell, as long as they could carry on with the good life, they gave no sign of trouble. Also there were plenty of stray land mines and ammunition, so it paid to careful.

My job was rather different in that supply depots( Ordinance Field Parks) could be two to three hundred miles away, so collection of spares and supplies could be a major operation. There could sometimes be a chronic shortage of one particular part, such as exhaust valves for Bedford engines, which went through heavy wear and tear in the hot climate. At one time we almost had a vehicle crisis for the sake of one replacement part. I was once sent out to beg, borrow or steal so long as I got them.

Being part of the 1st Army we were now coming very much under the Americans, who didn’t go to war unless they had all the tools — the difference was very obvious. Our Scottish Sergeant became very friendly with his opposite number in a nearby American company, it was perhaps something to do with the fact that they could get whiskey.

One evening some of us had an invite to the workshops of an American transport unit which was more like an engineering works compared with our two wagons with a tarpaulin slung in between. An amusing incident during this visit was when our American host introduced our (Scottish) Sgt. to one of his colleagues as Sgt. Jack of the ‘English’ army. Our Sgt’s face went a bit red but he didn’t let on. Perhaps he was still thinking of the next bottle of whiskey.

It has previously been mentioned about the danger of mines and one idea came up that vehicles would have to carry sandbags, situated in the cab around the driver and passenger compatible with the driver being able to handle the vehicle. The idea sounded a bit crazy until one day a lorry came in with most of the front blown off. We asked a chap standing close by what had happened to the driver and he said he had been driving it. Although he seemed a bit shocked at least he was in one piece.

There was quite a commotion one morning when an Arab had broken into the quartermaster’s store and stolen a revolver and ammunition. We were stationed in open semi-desert country, mostly hard, rough ground. The commanding officer came down from HQ and an enquiry was immediately held. Guard duties were doubled which meant there were more men on guard than there were doing any work. We were called on parade, given a lecture about being vigilant, after which the CO asked if there were any questions. I suggested that as we did guard duty in heavy army boots, which could be heard crunching the ground half a mile away, and the Arabs in bare feet could be right behind you and you wouldn’t know, that it would be a good idea to wear army plimsoles at night. I was told, in no uncertain terms, “Certainly not”, the guard would be properly dressed at all times. However a couple of days later life had returned to pretty much the same as usual.

Hostilities finished in the middle of May 1943. As the war in North Africa came to its close, the powers that be decided to have a Victory Parade in Tunis, so at least if we had missed the fighting we could join in the celebrations. On the appointed day we had to be clean and tidy with the ‘unexpired portion of the day’s rations’ and off to Tunis. We saw Generals Alexander and Eisenhower and a number of other top commanders being driven to their places. I think what rather amused us was a couple of lorry loads of Germans parked at a street corner. They seemed to be enjoying it as much as anyone else, after all, they were comparatively safe and sound. It was certainly a very inspiring day and one which would not be forgotten.

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