The Last Chapter

by Robert Lawson

it’s a good job I did. A pack of Jackals and Hyenas went right across me, I stood for a while and then went on my way, later I could see 2 figures and one way or another they pointed out where the hut was. I was never so glad to see someone I knew, even old misery guts, but I got quite a fright with the animals. Another time in Panitola, I was on duty on the radio when the heavens opened and the Monsoon started, the signal office there was a weak structure that collapsed with the torrential rain. The transmitters I was using were large American 99’s and very expensive so I had to call the radio engineer out. He didn’t’ like it, but that was what he was there for, everything was soaking so he had a job on. That signal office wasn’t anything like as busy as Chittagong, so I used to try and write songs without much success.

  The signal office in Hatisari was just about as busy as Panitola so we had quite a lot of time to fill in. There was a R.E.M.E. unit on camp with us and I mated up with a few of the lads, these lads were mostly engineers, electricians or mechanics. I happened to mention I was interested in weight lifting so they made me a barbell made up of a steel bar and 2 hubs off a jeep. It was handy for my work-outs, but they got into it and I landed up with a small class, we all enjoyed it. The toilets on this camp were in the middle of a field and it was disgusting, the smells were terrible, they were chemical toilets and the seats were a long board with about 8 holes. One morning I woke up and was covered with black spots, I didn’t know what it was and neither did anybody else. They were everywhere, were there were hairs except my head, it was when I put my mail under one of them and it started to walk, I was worried now. I had come to the conclusion it was “Crabs” which I’m sure I’d got off the toilet seats, I tried everything until one of the lads said “Let’s try this” and he sprayed me with something that smelled like paraffin, the name of which I’ve forgotten. The next morning they were all dead in my bed, the reason I didn’t go the M.O. I was afraid he might shave my head, I may have been vain but at 20 it mattered.

  We went out to one of the huts that we got together in and just had a laugh, we used to get a beer ration, along with a cigarette rations, but when that had gone we just made our own entertainment. Anyway, this particular night there was no beer and when the night finished, we made our way back but we didn’t expect what met us when we got back. It was a cloud of flying ants, the hut was completely covered in them, and it is very hard to explain just what it was like. We ended up killing as many as possible with rolled up papers, books and anything else we could use. When we brushed them together they were heaped up in piles, It took us at least 2 hours to clear the place. Another episode about Hatisari, involves the toilets again, an oxen had been found dead and was badly mutilated, it was Tiger country, so everybody stayed away from the toilets, especially at night. There was quite a crowd at this particular camp, one chap who was with the R.E.M.E. was in a state of depression because his girlfriend had dropped him for somebody else. He was in a terrible mood for a long time, we all tried to talk him out of his depression to no avail, I suppose when your 6,000 miles from home, you must feel helpless. I was never in that position myself but this wasn’t’ the only one I’d met in this position, this particular lad used to cry a lot. The worst part of this was after we’d had our beer ration, he was well oiled at the end of the night and we made our way back to the hut. He took his rifle, loaded it and went outside and if we hadn’t have intervened, he would have shot himself. That’s how bad he was and if we would have reported it, he would have been on a sever charge. The trips to these locations didn’t last long, so me and Mr Misery made our way back to Chittagong.

  I was glad to get back to the routine, and the dogs were excited to see me. They had moved us too another hut which was on the edge of a jungle, It was essential you used a Mosquito net and well tucked in to your mattress. So we were in a new home and Mitzy needed a kennel, so we got to work and knocked one up.

  The war was over by this time and yet, I was asked to send an important message to Raugoon, If a message has “P” on it, that means its important, but if it’s got “O” that means “Immediate” very important. This one was an “OP”, all the time I was sending it there was a lot of interference, It took a lot of concentration to send it, and I eventually got a “Roger”.

  Some of the Indian army operators were excellent at their job and were lovely writers and very fast, I often worked with one who worked from Camilla and there were never any problems. Some operators used to stop you if they couldn’t keep up, but not this boy, he was good.

  Taffy was due a leave and so was I, there was a scheme going called L.I.A.P (leave in addition to python) it meant that if your de-mob number (mine was 57) was on the list, you were entitled to a leave to the U.K. Our two numbers weren’t eligible, so we put in for a leave to Darjeeling in Nepal, we prepared to go, along with 2 or 3 others. The journey itself was amazing, a train to Calcutta then another to the banks of the Brahmaputra River, we were on that river for 15 hours. Then we travelled to the base of the mountains, from there we boarded a miniature train up the mountain , it was a lovely little train you could hardly stand up, it was so small. The scenery was breath-taking and almost indescribable, every time we made a top, these young girls came on board with trays of cigarettes, drinks and sweets. Eventually we arrived at Darjeeling where the Ghurkhas come from, the climate was like being at home, and we were so high up. We stayed in a big house run by English people, It was a beautiful place to be and after being so long down in the plains the air was clean and clear. in the mornings there was a mist over everything, it was like walking on clouds.

  We went horse riding one day, each horse had a guide but my guide let go and I must have touched the horse with my heels, before I knew it, the horse had galloped away and I was hanging on for dear life. Taffy had lived in the country at home and knew about horses, he came after me and stopped the horse.

  To see the peak of Mount Everest you had to get up about 6.30am, the Mountain Ranges were breath-taking and indescribable.

  We went to a drinking club a couple of times while we were there, We met a lad who trained with us a MHOW he was operating from Darjeeling Signal Office. We’d been there almost a week and we bumped into him again, quite casually he said “Which one is Lawson” I said me, he said “You’re going home tomorrow” he’d took the message himself. Good enough, when we got to the house, the owner told me I’d got to start in the morning for the journey back, which was a bit of an ordeal especially when you’re on your own. The journey took over two days and I’m not sure of the mileage. When the locals know you’re on your own they get brave and try to intimidate you, best thing to do is ignore them, it wasn’t easy. Eventually, I got back and they gave me the necessary paperwork to travel, it was a long journey from Chittagong to a transit camp near Bombay, it must have been about a week long. There were 2 other lads with me for this journey, the mileage was 1,500 miles.

  Getting back to Chittagong and the rough conditions we had to put up with, the toilets (holes in the ground) were around the back of the huts and a path led you to them. By them there was a monkey on a long chain, if it spotted you, it was on you in a shot, so you had to make sure it was pre-occupied or looking the other way before you made your move, it was the same coming back. A wild do came on camp once probably full of rabies which is dangerous if they bite, it can kill you. It walked too close to the monkey, the monkey jumped on its back, it looked like a jockey on horseback, and it was hanging on to the dog’s ears and screeching on top note. Eventually it let the dog go into the jungle and an officer followed it with a rifle and shot it. There was another dog on camp called “Busy” a strong mixed breed that liked a fight, so it was inevitable that when Tiger and Busty got together there was a fight, tiger had the edge but sometimes come out bleeding.

  When I was a youngster my Grandad (Bob) used to sit me on his knee and tell me stories about the first world war. He was in the R.H.A.(Royal Horse Artillery), I think
this was why he loved horses so much. He used to mention the jackals in Salonica how they used to come around when you were on guard duty. I said once “Were they big” he said “Yes lad, they’re as bit as donkeys”, for years I thought jackals were like donkeys. I’d never seen one until I got to India they are just like medium sized dogs, I suppose Bob was only making it interesting for me.

  Vultures were something else, if anything died human or animal they used to sit in the trees waiting, when it was definitely dead the King Vulture would swoop down and start picking at it, then the others would come and before long there would only be bones. More often than not there would be a fight between the vultures and other hungry animals. I remember going on a march once through hilly country and seeing vultures and 3 women fighting for the meat off an Ox which had died.

  Around this time Mitzy had her third litter of pups and she let me watch them being born, she licked them clean and they were beauties, unfortunately it must have affected her. Someone in the cook house had said she had bitten on of the