Near as Dammit!
We were going to the middle east now that the war in Europe had finished. I was not looking forward to it one bit. I knew that I was going to be miserable all the way because the sea did not agree with me at all. I suffered enough coming across the English channel on the boat from Ostend to last me a lifetime. We had a great welcome in Southampton docks, flags and bunting everywhere, a band playing and the salvation army were there with tea and buns, a right old do.
I had a wonderful fourteen days leave but it was a job to get used to it after sleeping rough. The leave went quickly and I was soon back in the army again, training for the middle east. Not happy traveling all that way by sea. The next thing we heard was that the Atom bombs had been dropped, nobody had a clue what was going to happen next. We were sent home for another leave which was great, but before long we had orders to go to Palestine.
We boarded a 24,000 ton liner called the ‘Strathmore’ it had an Indian crew and they kept a very clean ship. I thought I may just be alright on this one. No such luck, I was feeling bad all the way to Port Said. I could hardly go below decks, the chaps used to bring food up to me. The ships bread was really something and monstrous helpings of peaches and cream kept me going.
I was really pleased to be back on terra firma, but the ordeal right after that was shocking. We tramped across the desert late at night for miles, pitching our tents in the dark in this god forsaken place, with not even a cup of tea on hand, we just had to put up with it until morning. We went through this for a week and even then the ordeal was not over. We travelled on the train to Haifa. We did have a meal at El Basasan that wasn't too bad. It was a very trying journey, the train travelled at 20 miles per hour and the heat made it almost unbearable. The remainder to Acre was done by truck.
It wasn't a bad camp, we had wooden huts to live in for six months that we were going to be staying here. We were doing demonstrations with live ammo for the middle of infantry school. When the six months were up we would be doing security work.
The time came for us to start the demos. I was in charge of three ‘Wasp’ flame thrower tanks. They carried 100 gallons of flame liquid and 2 gas bottles, besides the normal petrol for the engines. When it was pressured up it was a very dangerous fire bomb! If you were the crew you could hear it singing.
I had five men, six if you include me, two on each Wasp, three drivers and three operators. We had done several demos together and had managed very well with no casualties.
The last demo did not go to plan right from the start. I told my driver ‘Johnson’ that I had a bad feeling but he just laughed. I was a man short and Sergeant Major ‘Buggie’ Row from Lostwithiel volunteered to help us out so I told him what needed to be done. He had to use the mortar and fire out smoke bombs.
The day came for our performance, we were parked under some olive trees under a bit of a hill out in the desert. At exactly 11am 25 pounders would open up firing smoke shells over our heads, between us and the target which was an old Matilda tank. The first salvo hit the olive trees hanging just over our heads breaking off branches and dropping debris on top of us. The next salvo was no better, one of the shells dropped between his spread eagled legs. He was lucky, that smoke canister only missed him by 2 inches! We could not see anything for smoke but could still hear the mortar being fired so Sergeant Major was not hurt. I shouted to the rain man to get the artillery to life the barrage, he got scared and moved out of the way.
Time to go. I sent a flare up into the sky, time to move, the wasp had already been pressured up so away we go across the desert at about 40 miles an hour, banging and clattering towards the target. Near the target we put 20 gallons along the ground and started to run through it to make it more spectacular.
Then the wasp engine stopped!! Johnson tried frantically to start it but it was no good! We were stuck in the middle of flames five feet high and on top of that fuel had leaked onto the floor. Our boots and the bottoms of our overalls were on fire. We had a company of solders walking up behind us firing live ammo some bullets whizzing past us, some hitting the wasp. I had told them before that we were not the target but it did no good. We had a choice of burning to a cinder or jumping out and risk getting shot.
“Bale out!” I shouted to Johnson “Over the front!” He did not need telling twice. We both landed on our faces in the burning desert, bullets were thudding around us but we managed to crawl a few feet with the smoke choking us.
The wasp was well alight, the 40 gallon tank exploded and it flew up into the air. The good lord saved us, the flare in the bin of the wasp went off, it flew up into the air with a loud hiss. The shooting stopped immediately because that was the signal for ‘demo over’ We weren't in very good order, both Johnson and myself had lost the hair on our heads, eyelashes and eyebrows. Our overalls were burnt like cardboard, touch it and pieces would fall off. Our boots were burnt beyond repair and our socks. My beret was burnt to a cinder but I managed to salvage my badge. Johnson had three inches shot off the rim of his steel helmet and he wouldn't part with it after that. The chaps poured water over us from their flasks and that helped. The wasp was still burning and would be for some time, still clouds of smoke around.
We were very lucky, if that flare had not gone up I don't know what would have happened. We would o had it! It was near as dammit!
I had not ordered anything else but an ambulance came bumping through the smoke, we thought it was Sir John Mills like it was in the film ‘Ice cold in Alex’ We laughed but we may have needed it!
A fortnight later I was on C.O. orders. I thought “here goes, I am going to get torn off a strip for losing a Wasp!” But the brass congratulated us on a splendid demo.
The demonstrations with wasps were never used again as they were too dangerous.
