Once across the Mersey, which I was to cross many a time a few years later, at the Princes Landing Stage next the Pier Head and under the Liver Clock on the Liver Building, we worked hard all afternoon and into the evening carrying aboard from the dockside, up the gang plank and to their neat and tidy cabins all the baggage officers and passengers were allowed. It was a wry joke among us that the proud ‘S’ on our sleeves stood for stevedore. All this without us receiving anything not even a thanks. We, of course, were just other ranks (ORs). The manner in which we were treated by many rankled me. We also saw how vastly different the officers and passengers accommodation was from that ours. I felt that in comparison ours was unnecessarily crude and primitive.
Farewell to England: the Devonshire Departs, Our First Night at Sea
Later that night at about 9pm we set sail from the Princes Landing Stage, Liverpool on January 24 1950. Like everything else about the Devonshire it was prosaic; without ceremony. No dignitaries. No bands. No farewell, just the men ashore on the dockside casting off the lines. To them it was just a job, just another ship sailing. It was dark. It was cold. It was a Tuesday. I stood with the others on deck in the dark and cold of that January evening as we proceeded down the Mersey to the Bar and out into the Irish Sea. There was little to observe beyond the black of the Mersey, a few lights on passing vessels and on either shore. So it being around 1030pm having had little sleep and feeling tired, I went below to our troop-deck.
I, of course, had had the chance to try out my hammock the night before. That was when we were the only troops aboard. Tonight it was different. The troop deck was full of other squaddies all trying to settle in. There was movement of a vessel at sea, all the shipboard sounds and the smells. There was little light. Troops in various stages of undress, kit strewn about, and the issue of the hammocks and bedding; I suppose it was a controlled confusion. Some of the regulars had done all this before so as ‘old soldiers’ they knew how to make themselves comfortable. And we attempted to follow their example.
Eventually we were all in our hammocks. These were slung from hooks in the deck head above and hung at about head height, and so arranged that the occupied hammocks fitted together like sardines. It meant that to get in one had to prise apart the hammocks on either side and on getting out the gap filled up. One also had to crouch beneath them to get about if a call of nature required a visit to the heads. As we got out into the Irish Sea the ship began its everlasting roll and as she rolled all swung together. If one awoke in the night, as one often did it was quite amusing to see in the dim light the movement of them all swinging in unison.
Through the night there was a constant turmoil of squaddies falling out of their hammocks and beginning to experience the first qualms of sea sickness. But I think I slept quite well. Some squaddies never mastered the art of sleeping in a hammock, and they were content to sleep on the deck below the mess tables.
Greetings from France. interesting account. The plane was a ‘Mustang’, shooting up, the P.L.A radio station.
I had the pleasure of the sea trip to H.K. on the”Dev.’.It was certainly a way of getting to know ones fellow warriors. As I remember it, there were 200 hammocks on our troop deck, and one ‘sprung’ porthole,the smallest unfortunate be allowed the adjacent space, Lo Wu was heaven. Incidentally after the flood came the pestilence,
Do you remember the plague of dysentery that hit all of us.I have a mental image of an disinterested M.O. sitting at a 6′ table doling out heaps of white, unmarked ,tablets without speaking or looking up. Guard duty was a pleasure, one was never alone. As ‘The Chief Scout’ says,’ What dos’not kill you, will make you stronger’.
Cheers, John
John, you must have been in the same draft as me, and yes passage on our troop deck was quite an experience. I remember still those hammocks and waking in the night when we all swung together. And the lives we led centred upon our mess table. The food too was quite awful. The same day after day. Lo Wu at least stayed still.
A Pestilence indeed, with only that row of filthy thunderboxes, stinking fly infested holes in the ground and nothing else by way of a door for privacy, no loo paper as such, or hand washing facilities and set at a slightly higher elevation and parallel, thus in full view to the track running through the camp.
As to guards, there was certainly plenty of company but not that one would normally seek out. But what did impress me were the number of stars in the sky the myriad bugs, how noisy it was with sundry cries, croaks and screams plus, of course the smell (stench?) of China.
Certainly Cheers to all that.
John.
I still have 2 Menu cards from 1943 when 78 Med Rgt (DLOY) was sailing on the Devonshire from Capetown to Durban en route to Egypt.Incidentally the Comet flew commercially long before 1958,I was stationed at Changi (1952-1954)where the Comet was based and have a letter recovered from the aircraft that crashed whilst taking off from Dum Dum airport.
Regards,Len.
Len,
Thank you for that and for getting in touch. The Devonshire had a long history and there must be thousands of squaddies, like you (?), me and others who have memories of her. It would seem you are an ex-regular or survivor from WWII and served in Singapore and no doubt other stations as well.
It’s also surprising the Devonshire had menu cards, never mind a menu card the food we got was of the same kind every day and universally lousy. Or do I take it you weren’t travelling troop deck?
Would you care to share any of those experiences with us?
If so please use the contact form and I shall get back to you.
Regards,
John
Hi John,
The squaddie in 1943 was my father,who was BSM of 106 Battery,that’s probably why the Menu Cards!I am ex RAF,hence the Changi connection.Possibly a disappointment to dad that I didn’t become a gunner.His father was a Bombrdier with A Battery,100 Brigade in WW1.Here endeth the history lesson.Cheers,Len.
Len, thanks for that. It explains a lot.
Sorry we won’t be hearing more about you, for the RAF was a different world to mine and my fellow Gunners.
But your father’s service is duly noted.
Regards,
John.
I was on the Dunra on way to Hong Kong it broke down and had a refit in 1949
Thanks Bill for getting in touch, it looks as if we have things in common like both being Gunners and serving in Hong Kong.
Would you care to share something about your self and Hong Kong?
What were your experiences?
We are all getting older and soon won’t be able to do so. It’s then gone forever. Now is the time to pass the story on, and for each one of us NSmen there is something to tell particularly like you and I who troopshipped tofar away destinations the other side of the world. Young lads today don’t have that opportunity.
I look forward to a positive response and then I can tell you how we can proceed.
Again my thanks for writing.
Kind regards,
John.
I Sailed out to hong kong on the Devonshire In Nov 1950 , In the army R.A
Hi Ron,
Interesting and thank you. Always good to hear from another Gunner.
All those who traveled on the Devonshire have distinct memories of the ship! Perhaps you would be prepared to say something about your experiences.
Perhaps too as a fellow Gunner you would add what unit you were with in Hong Kong, where and something about your service.
I hope you will do so for as we all get older and pass away such re-collections now in your memory are gone for ever.
Sincerely,
John.
I remember those swinging hammocks; eating jugged hare and stewed something or other – prunes?
I was on my way back to Blighty from Korea out of Pusan via Hong Kong about Sept/Oct 1951. We had BCOF lads who were all spit and polish; Gloucester survivors who kept to themselves and KOSB National Servicemen who were in a helluva mood and downright mutinous over our treatment on board. We were going home so we got over it. I can also remember manhandling tubs of slop from the pitching galleys in the bow down iron stairways to our messdecks. I know those tubs received an extra ration from the poor seasick stumbling squaddie at the other end of the tub! One lasting memory of that trip was the guy with a jar of gold teeth who had it ripped out of his hand and thrown overboard. Wasn’t that a wonderful welcome home parade we got at Southampton!
Hi Alan,
Thank you for getting in touch and making that lively response. A pleasure to read.
Conditions on the Devonshire certainly impressed themselves on your mind as it did so many others who traveled aboard her. It seemed to me that the conditions could have been improved but there was no will to do so. Eventually she was improved but long after our time. I doubt though they got rid of her roll or improved her sea-worthiness. But she did give and had long service. Lastly as a school ship in the Mediterranean.
Of course, and as you say a lot depended upon which direction one was traveling!
Aboard the Dunera on which I returned, there was little fraternization between the different drafts of returnees. We all kept to ourselves just being glad we were going home. There were quite a few from Korea, a very mixed bag and none seemed in good shape. Most were drunk all the while. We had no particular reception at Southampton. What I do remember is that it was a beautiful day, we were soon ashore and on a train
Would you care to write more about your National Service in general and in Korea with the KOSB’s?
If so, please let me know. All these memories are important as pieces of history, personal, social. military and world.
As an old KOSB National serviceman I remember the Devonshire and the swinging hammocks; the lousy food and arrogant treatment from the “staff”. After Korea we put up with all of it because we were going home.
Hi John
Having been referred to in your memoirs and reading again the added written hint, in your last year’s Xmas letter I decided to also make a contribution to the exchange of comments that others have made. I was most intrigued to read that I accompanied you to the same TA airborne unit in Hendon after our discharge from the regular army. My memory only recalls the idea and prospect of jumping out of an aircraft, with only a survey instrument, behind enemy lines, did not really appeal to me at all.
My first job after demob was a Temporary Civil Engineering assistant in the Admiralty initially down at Chatham Dockyard. My experience as a Surveyor in the Army helped significantly to kick start my career in engineering right up to Chartered Engineer status. I am therefore very grateful of that which National Service bestowed upon me. I post this comment because I may not be the only one who at the time really thought that life in the army, was not an ideal way of absence 10,000 miles away from home. My memories of the passage of a five week, slow boat to China, (the song was actually popular at the time) which on arrival in Hong Kong made me think I was an awful long way from home. I have since returned there (with Tim Tate-Smith a fellow NS man, now a sadly departed lifelong friend), by air and could not believe how quick the same journey has become, with the progress and passing of time.
Many thanks John for keeping in touch and sharing those remarkable years with you.
Ian.
Hello Ian,
How happy I am to see (at long last) you have joined me on here. We did after all spend two years together in close proximity and shared many of the same experiences.
As you rightly say, although we didn’t appreciate it at the time, our National Service did confer in more ways than one individual benefit. For like you as a Chartered Engineer it gave me a kick start in my profession and in becoming a Chartered Surveyor. I’m very grateful for that.
It’s sad about Tim TS (also a life long friend) that he didn’t live to see and share this further experience. And, as you rightly remark so much has changed in the intervening years.
My very kindest regards and my appreciation of a long time friendship that commenced in 1949, as squaddies in a vintage WW1 wooden hut at Larkhill.
John.