It's a funny old world I must say. Some live, some die,
some win some lose. Pete Howarth was twenty something when he died and
I'm sitting hear at eighty one years old writing about it.
Our Unit as such was disbanded and I found myself driving
a Chevrolet Water Bowser as part of a very large convoy bound from Bombay
to Madras. A thousand miles across the Decan. It was a ten day trip,
about a hundred miles a day bivvying down most nights.
The dust was unimaginable except for the guy in front
which wasn't me. I wore a pair of shorts, a bush hat, a scarf over my
mouth and nose and bare feet. The accelerator pedal on the Chev was
a button type, just right for my big toe so quite comfy really. I've
scoured the web for a photo of a long nosed Chev but without success.
Why I know not because they and the Dakota were the workhorses of the
campaign.

Sketch from a Long Nosed
Chev: Across the Decan:
Anyway we arrived at Madras safe and sound and it's here
that things become a bit confused. I seem to remember going back to
Bombay by train but just cann't seem to fill the gaps. What I do know
for sure though is that eventually, whether returning to Madras later
or at the present time, I drove a wagon on to a LCT (Landing Craft Tank)
and set sail for Singapore.

Landing Craft Tank:
No tanks, just lorries.Nose to tail and lashed down which
was just as well as it turned out. A day or so out from Madras one engine
broke down. I spent my twenty third birthday, Christmas day and Boxing
day being thrown about like a pea in a matchbox yet strangely enough
not a bit seasick. Probably because it was a comparatively small vessel
and the motion was so sharp and violent. Bruising even but quite exciting
out on the deck lashing stuff down that had broken free.
Something like ten days it took us to reach Singapore
and it was with some relief that I drove a 3 Ton open back Ford down
the ramp and into peace time Malaya.
Strange how I can't remember when, after leaving Special
Force I was recivilised as a member of the RAF with F1250 (Identity
Card) and normal Khaki uniform. Must have been kicking around in a kitbag
"somewhere in India". Same with my twenty second birthday,
can't remember that either. But no matter.
Driving through Singapore at that time was quite an experience
but eventually we wound up at a vehicle depot at Paya Lebar, parked
up and rejoined the strange world of peace. Lucky to have the following
photos from that time
:
Post Office
Singapore 1945: NAAFI Singapore
1945:
Kuala Lumpur was my next port of call., commandered
Hotel for accomodation and working in the Signals HQ. Back to reallity.................going
to work one morning, shorts, socks and shoes of course but bush hat
and no shirt.a voice calls "I say what are you",( heard that
before somewhere), A young Officer straight out from UK by his looks.
(Moonies we called them in Masirah) standing there stiff and straight
and not very happy. So back to the block, shirts on, tapes sown on,
RAF hat, leaning slightly to the right to keep it on of course we re-entered
The Royal Air Force.
Good number KL, great grub and comfy barracks. Had difficulty
keeping the local whores out of the lads rooms but all in all OK. Best
fried prawns you'll ever get. A ten o'clock curfew was in force and
one night after getting totally pissed on rum I had to spend the night
in the back seat of an old Austin Seven in the backyard of the bar.
Crawled back to work next day and was on a walking stick for a week


Kuala Lumpur Railway
Station 1945:
Good Piccy for the Album eh?. Anyway it was getting close
to "Going home" time so after a short stint at RAF Tenga it
was time to start thinking about packing the old tin trunk. Stuff which
you could have sent on like presents for the family and stuff.
Just a couple of little tales before I climb aboard the
old Trooper.
Just after I got to Tenga I went to the camp barber for
a haircut and shave. A shaven headed Japanese welcomed me, in kowtowed
almost to the floor and proceded to shave me with a cut throat razor.
Jeez! . A couple of months back we were killing each other.
The other little tale. Somewhere, gawd knows where when
we were at Paya Lebar I got hold of a wind up gramophone. Brought a
couple of records off guys one of which was Bing Crosby singing "San
Antonio Rose".Gave it away when I went to KL and.have never been
able to get hold of it since.
And that, for anyone who is out there, is about it.
Homeward
Bound
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