An Englishman at War

by James Holland

  I shared billets with Stephen Mitchell, two rooms in a farmhouse. Before the war he worked for Player’s cigarette company. His father’s tobacco firm amalgamated with Player’s and used to manufacture Three Nuns Tobacco, the brand which I always used to smoke. Each tin had ‘Stephen Mitchell’ stamped on the outside. I had great pleasure in telling him that every one I smoked added to his family millions, which used to irritate him. Naturally, we became great friends. We discovered that our families had mutual friends, Jim and Rae Wilson from Invertrossachs in Scotland and Tommy [Tammy?] and Jim Hutchinson, also from Scotland. Stephen, too, hailed from ‘the wild lands north of England’.

  In order to reach the stairs I had to pass through Stephen’s bedroom. I noticed that on his dressing table there was a bottle of most expensive hair lotion, which he ordered from Douglas, the Bond Street gents’ hairdresser. I could not resist giving my hair an application each time I passed through his room. I justified my action because while I was at Lockers Park an assistant from the shop came down from London to cut the boys’ hair, including mine. I did admit to him what I had done and he accepted my excuse with cynical resignation. Somehow he had never noticed.

  Stanley is typically generous about the people he met when he joined the Nottingham (Sherwood Rangers) Yeomanry, but there was actually considerable resentment at the arrival of these new men. John Semken, who joined the Rangers from the Inns of Court a few months after Stanley, says they were warned beforehand that they would not be welcomed with open arms, and that Stanley, Lawrence Biddle and John Walters had been received quite huffily by the Earl of Yarborough, who believed it was still up to him to choose the officers for ‘his’ regiment. ‘They worked for a living,’ says John Semken, ‘and didn’t keep horses or hunt twice a week. They hadn’t been to Eton or Harrow, so they had nothing to talk about and were pretty roughly treated.’

  Friday 12 January 1940

  C Squadron, Notts (SR) Yeomanry sent their Horse Party to Palestine. This included all the horses, 21 men per troop, and five officers. Peter Laycock in command of the squadron, and Michael Laycock, Michael Gold, Michael Parish, and self.

  We had a hearty send-off from Brocklesby – we were the last squadron horse party to leave. Lady Yarborough and the two girls came to see us off at the station, and all the remaining officers.

  I have left my car at Brocklesby for Lady Diana to drive. She gave me a copy of Kipling’s poems before I left and inside rather a touching note, which said, ‘Read this when you are weary. Take care of Michael and do, do take care of yourself.’ I do feel sorry for the girl. She is so overshadowed by her mother, and not being a boy – and possessing neither looks nor personality, her family find no interest in her and neither father nor mother mind showing it.

  We were most comfortable in the train. Michael Parish and I shared a first-class cabin, and our servants were right next door. Our first stop was Leicester where the men had tea, and our first casualty came at 12 o’clock at night. One of Donny Player’s chargers, having an ill-tempered horse next door, was badly bitten, and fell with a very badly cut head. We had the greatest difficulty in moving the other chargers into another truck, so that the damaged horse could lie down at full length. The wretched animal looked a dreadful sight, and the groans it kept making were terrible to hear. Donny Player had given it to Michael Laycock as a charger – and Michael was all in favour of shooting it, but we decided against it in the end. We eventually got moving after an hour’s delay.

  Loading the horses, England, January 1940.

  We had another horse down at Redhill, which had kicked its way through the truck and had made a great hole in the wood. We almost had a tragedy there when a horse being led along the platform almost fell on the live electric rail. The fellow who was leading it just managed to pull it back again.

  At this time, war had not broken out in the Middle East, but there were good reasons for maintaining a reserve of British troops in Palestine. Although the area had been stable in the 1920s, by the late 1930s it threatened to erupt into violence. The Italians were agitating Arab nationalism. A former ally, Italy, under the Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini, not only formed an alliance with Germany, but with ambitions in Africa and the Mediterranean, looked increasingly likely to enter the war against Britain. Not only was it necessary to suppress any Arab uprising, it was also British strategy to ensure there were enough forces in the Middle East to take on any Italian move against British possessions in the area, including Egypt, which was not officially British but a country on which Britain had a right to depend. In effect, it was a colony in all but name. Not only was Alexandria a vital port in the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal linked Britain to India and the East, while the area as a whole protected vital oilfields in Iran and Iraq. It was also recognized that Britain could mount operations from Egypt and Palestine throughout the Middle East and North Africa.

  Monday, 15 January

  At 2 o’clock during the night, or I should say early morning, the train stopped and one of the men came along the line and woke me up with the news that a horse in his truck was queer. I put on a pair of gum boots and returned with him, and found that one of the horses had lain down through pure exhaustion. After a little difficulty we got him up again, I returned to bed and the train went on. The horse in question actually belonged to Michael Gold’s troop.

  We had an excellent breakfast of eggs and bacon, which was most enjoyable. At Valence the train ran over a French soldier who was cut completely in two. Fortunately I did not see the accident. At about midday we were delayed for some considerable time by another train in front that had come off the rails. Michael Laycock and self went down to have a look at the horses. The train started off so hastily we had to clamber into a horse truck and travelled like that for quite a distance.

  After one stop, Michael Gold, Michael Laycock and self travelled in the engine for about 50 miles. It really was great fun, and the French drivers were charming and most amusing. Michael Gold, who speaks French perfectly, got on very well with them. We stopped three times during the day, watered and fed the horses and also the men. The arrangements on the whole were very good. At 4.18 that afternoon we arrived at Marseilles; the train then took us on to the village of Au Bagne where we were met by the colonel and Dandy Wallace who is acting as adjutant. Carmichael, the doctor, was also there, all with very depressing news about the discomforts of the Château de la Reynarde, our alleged resting camp. The horses were watered and fed, and the men were given an excellent meal at the station. We slept that night on the train in a siding and very cold it was, as all the heating had been turned off, it having no engine.

  Tuesday, 16 January

  I was called at 5.45 a.m., being duty officer. The men had breakfast and started unloading immediately. I think that Peter Laycock, as squadron leader, has no idea of organization. The unloading was a dreadful muddle. His capacity for looking after himself is excellent, but not his troops.

  At 7.30 I went off with Mike Parish and had breakfast at the Café de la Cours in Au Bagne, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I also had a very excellent wash. I had to return fairly soon to relieve the others who were waiting for breakfast. At 9.15 we started to lead the horses from the station to the Château de la Reynarde, where we are supposed to rest for a week. It was about a four-mile walk. We had heard a few rumours about the discomforts of this so-called château, and they were not the slightest bit exaggerated. The place had not been lived in since 1934. Naturally no kind of heating whatsoever, except a fire in one downstairs room, which was used as a mess. The only furniture in the whole house was a few chairs and tables. The bedrooms mostly had stone floors, and some had no glass in the windows, and each room had 15 or 16 officers. Even each colonel had to share a room with the squadron leaders. Most unfortunately the weather has suddenly turned terribly cold, almost as bad as Lincolnshire. The château holds all the officers of the Brigade, i.e. ourselves, the Yorkshire Dragoons, and the Yorkshire Hussars – that is, of course, t
he horse party of each regiment. The personnel party will arrive at Marseilles and go straight on to the personnel boat. It seemed a very long walk up to the château especially for the men, who were very weary after the long journey. My troop sergeant, Rodger, could hardly make it, as he had caught a very bad chill. When we eventually reached the camp, we tied up the horses on lines which were already up for us. The rest are in tents.

  Wednesday, 17–Tuesday, 23 January, Château de la Reynarde

  We had all been informed that the château would be a rest camp. Nothing could be further from it. We were working practically the whole day. Mostly, of course, it was the horses which caused all the work. Unfortunately Marseilles had the coldest spell for 50 years. Every single pipe froze, and we had the greatest difficulty in getting any water at all. All the watering of horses had to be done with buckets at a neighbouring stream and it took a great deal of time. However, they provided us with ample forage, as much bran and hay as we wanted.

  Most of the officers complained that the food was quite dreadful, but personally I consider that it might have been very much worse. Unless orderly officer, I was never in for dinner: we all went down to Marseilles every evening for a bath and dinner.

  When we arrived we thought that the château was far too full, and that we would try and find somewhere else to sleep. The colonel flatly refused to allow us to sleep either in the village or in Marseilles. Peter Laycock found a barn for himself, Michael Laycock and Michael Gold and told Michael Parish and self that there was not enough room for us, so we looked round for ourselves. With the greatest difficulty we managed to procure a tent, and pitched it on some ground overlooking an encampment of an Indian transport regiment. Both the Indians and their mules made most strange noises during the night, but it was the intense cold that kept us awake. The next night we moved our tent on to the terrace in front of the château. From there we had rather a beautiful view, and what is more we got the sun. However, that day, the camp commandant, a most repulsive major, came into the tent and said to Michael Parish in a cold stern voice, ‘Who gave you leave to have a tent? Who gave you leave to pitch your tent here, you insolent young cub?’ However, after a few words, Michael managed to smooth matters, and the major told him that the Indian officers were leaving and that we could have their room. So we moved again into a large room in the château with a stone floor and on the door written in chalk ‘For the senior Indian officer’. The room possessed a large fireplace, and it wasn’t long before our servants procured some coal (I think by stealing) and we had a roaring fire. It made Michael and me laugh to think of our senior officers shivering in the barn while we had a room with a fire. Naturally the place had no lights of any kind, except for a hurricane lamp. However, it’s wartime, and it might have been very much worse. The intense cold weather added to our discomfort.

  About 5 o’clock each evening we would go down to Marseilles to the Hôtel Louvre et Pays, have a bath and then some drinks, mostly champagne cocktails, and then go off to dinner at one of the very many restaurants. Some evenings we continued on to a nightclub and danced, but since the war, the whole place shut at midnight, and it was quite difficult to get a taxi back again even at that hour.

  Mostly we went to a place called Dans. Pat McCraith had fallen very much for a girl who sang there. She really was rather sweet, with a very charming voice, and an excellent dancer. Pat was quite nuts about her. What is more as far as you can tell, her morals were distinctly high. Lovemaking, or anything like that, was quite out of the question, much to Pat’s annoyance. I liked another very attractive dark girl there. She danced beautifully. She had large brown eyes and gave one the impression of being very cold. The band there was excellent, so too the cabarets. We always had great fun there, but it shut at 12 o’clock. The Domino was another place which we visited.

  On 23 January we left the château, and marched 11 miles with the horses into Marseilles and embarked on the Rajula for Palestine. I think most of the Regiment were very pleased to leave the place. Six men out of 21 from my troop went down ill, which meant that most of those left had to lead three horses from the château and the docks. The roads were all ice, so riding was impossible. I had to collect the clearing certificate from the camp commandant, and actually left the château with the doctor in the last ambulance taking the sick to the boat. It was rather sad to see such a place, which not so long ago must have been very lovely.

  Tuesday, 23 January, SS Rajula

  To start with the sea was pretty rough, which increased the work below with the horses considerably as many of the men went sick. There are six troop ships in this convoy, and we are guarded by two destroyers – Australians, I think.

  It is rather an impressive sight, all the six ships on the clear blue Mediterranean headed by the two destroyers – they look so small yet so tigerish!

  It’s the first time since I joined this Regiment I have got to know officers in the other squadrons. At Brocklesby and at Malton we lived entirely as a squadron and saw very little of the other squadrons. They are not a bad lot but rather inclined to be on the dull side.

  Dandy Wallace is acting as ship’s adjutant; he is not a bad person.

  The doctor, Alex Carmichael, and two other officers have gone down with chills. Personally I think the officers have been very comfortable on this boat. The food has not been at all bad and we have not been really overworked, and for the last two days the weather has been quite perfect. George Hinds, the veterinary officer, has been rather tiresome. He is scared stiff of losing horses, and complained to the colonel that the officers had not been giving enough attention to the care of the horses, which is absolute tripe. We have actually lost two horses and that was through bad luck in each case. The Yorkshire Dragoons in this convoy have lost nine or ten. We have seen them throw them overboard.

  Our programme for each day has been as follows: early morning stables at 7 o’clock; breakfast 8.30; stables, water and feed horses 10.30 – generally lasts for about 1½ hours; men’s lunches at 12.30, our lunch at l o’clock; stables again at 3 o’clock; men’s tea at 4 o’clock also ours; finally ‘Hay-up’ and water 9 o’clock. Rest days we had various parades. Michael Laycock has been in command of our squadron and on the whole has done it pretty well.

  Monday, 29 January

  This morning at 6 o’clock we arrived at Haifa. Last night we were told that our ship would be the first to unload, and that the horses would start going off at 8 o’clock. Accordingly the men were up at 4.45 clearing up and packing their things. I got up about 6 o’clock. As usual, all previous orders were cancelled and the ship carrying Yorkshire Hussars went in before us. That meant that we should do nothing until four o’clock in the afternoon. However, it is just about 9 o’clock now, and it is almost certain that fresh orders will come through again.

  We have been told that we should arrive in the rainy season, and we have certainly done that – it has been pouring with rain ever since 5 o’clock. From here Haifa looks larger than I expected. It extends quite a distance on a side of the hill. First thing this morning, our squadron sergeant major, Heathershore, pointed out the hill where in the last war he went over the top 22 years ago. I told him that he would be doing the same in 22 years’ time. He really is a grand little man. I told him that after the war he could come as our stud-groom.

  My drink bill for the voyage was 30s. I made up my mind not to drink anything, and didn’t do so until last night, when we celebrated Jos Abel-Smith’s wedding anniversary. After dinner we went and drank with the sergeants. B Squadron has a grand SSM called Cassidy. A true Irishman with a beautiful voice. We made him sing, but he got very tight, and when he went to bed, he insisted on blowing the alarm with the result that most men turned out on deck. Fortunately the colonel didn’t hear a thing. He wouldn’t have taken a very good view.

  Wilfrid Bennet, the second-in-command of the Regiment, who went before us, as advance party, has just come on board. He tells us that as soon as we leave the ship we go to a place
called Rehovot to a rest camp for three weeks, where we shall be in huts. After that we go to a place called Gadeira, 90 miles from the coast and our nearest town is Jaffa. He also told us that our address will now be N (SR) Y Palestine, that we can send letters by airmail, which will take a week, as compared with a month, and that Barclays Bank at Jaffa will cash cheques for us.

  When we arrive at our final destination we shall be under canvas. What is more we can send a cable home advising families about our address etc. I shall send one immediately I get on shore.

  Tuesday, 30 January

  I was baggage officer and was responsible for all the luggage, leaving the ship and being loaded on to the train. It was very wearying having to stand on my feet from 6 a.m. to 12.30 p.m.

  I was unable to start unloading until all the horses were off, as there was only one gangway. That meant all the luggage had to be rushed off and reloaded without any kind of organization. We then had a long four-hour journey in a most uncomfortable train, from Haifa to Rehovot. We arrived about 6 o’clock in the evening. The Greys sent down lorries to meet us and brought us up to the camp here.

  The Greys had prepared all the camp for us and had made the whole place most comfortable. We share the officers’ mess with them. The food also is high class. We are billeted in bungalows.

  The horse lines are not at all bad, although in the sand it’s rather difficult to keep the posts in.

  There is a bathroom with a geyser, but at this moment it is not working.