By this time many of us had been transferred from the RAOC into the
newly formed Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, REME, changing
our ranks from privates to craftsmen, this sounded good but we were
still at the bottom of the totem pole. Towards the end of 1942 I was on
my third draft, identified as RDGFA which some wags said stood for "REME
draft going far away". We gathered at Ramillies Barracks in Aldershot
filling in time with some regimental training under a Canadian corporal
who, disregarding our medical groupings for we were a very mixed bunch,
proceded to run us around a battle course that included an eight-foot
high jump. He was pretty tough himself; with one wrist in a plaster
cast he led us in traversing across a gap by means of a horizontal rope.
At this time I began to ponder the future, weighing my chances of
surviving unscathed, surviving maimed or not surviving at all. I had no
sound data to base my reasoning on but knew that Germany, seemingly
invincible, had taken over three years to advance well into Russia and
North Africa and that the Allies would take at least that time to
reverse the situation; surviving unscathed appeared to be a remote
possibility but one could always hope.
Again we were issued with a second kitbag and tropical uniforms. Where
were we going? None of us knew and with the army's art of deception we
could have been going to a cold place. After a further seven days
embarkation leave we returned to Aldershot, regrouped and took a train
to London. From there we boarded a troop train and headed north on the
old LNER line stopping at last at a transit camp at Cottingham near
Hull. Lugging our two kits around was a bit of a chore. We were due to
leave again the following day so a couple of us went into Hull that
evening to a cinema along with two NAAFI lasses. The incongruity of the
situation struck me when we came out; it was too late to get anything to
eat or to get a bus back to camp. Outside the cinema a man was selling
hot chestnuts and these were our only nourishment but we went back to
camp in grand style, we took a taxi.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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