A BRIEF HISTORY OF LIFE IN REME

A Craftsman’s Story 1948 to I953

 Contributed by: Phil KEMPSTER

Chapter Eight

Life Aboard The Troopship M/V Dunera. 1949

This was to be a voyage that a I shall remember for the rest of my days, there were quite a number of us REME lads that had travelled by rail to Southampton, including some married families, to go aboard the Dunera, some destined for Singapore and Malaya, others going as far as Hong Kong.

We sailed on the troopship MV Dunera from Southampton to Singapore 15^th December 1949

We disembarked from our train on the dockside and joined hundreds of other branches of the armed forces, infantry, Royal Engineers, R.A.F and Royal Navy personnel. A military band played music including ‘’Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye’’ as we embarked, that brought a lump to a few throats I as can tell you. When we were all safely aboard, this is when an incident occurred when the gang planks had been taken away, I remember a every- one cheering when a Christmas pudding was being roped aboard. A mother of one of the troops had forgotten to give it to her son to have with his mates on Xmas Day at sea, so the Captain had given permission for it to be roped aboard.

Eventually we set sail with the band playing and everyone ashore waving and cheering us on our way. Once we were settled in and given our decks which were to be our home for the next few weeks. I was on F deck that was just above the waterline so we had portholes to let a bit of daylight through. I remember thinking, glad I am not on the lower decks below water level.

December 1949 at sea on the MV Dunera.

All our meals had to be collected from the galley in large metal containers and we had to take turns serving ourselves. All meals were taken this way. We all sat at large wooden tables that folded away when not in use. In the evenings we had to draw our hammocks from the storeroom in the hold, these were hung above the dining area on hooks. We were given a short demonstration on making these beds up, that was a work of art. If you did not get the strings the right length at each end when you hoisted yourself into it, the sides would close over you like a clam. I never did get the hang of it. I managed to find a couple of pieces of wood to wedge in each end and that worked for me. The hammock was quite comfortable once you got into the bloody thing.

We sailed into the Bay of Biscay and the weather took a turn for the worst, I don’t recommend hammocks in rough seas and oh boy was it rough. All our portholes had a large metal cover, a crewmember clamped these down during bad weather. Anyway, we all said our prayers in between being seasick. I went up to one of the rooms higher up, spread my hammock out on the deck and pretended not to be afraid. The storm raged all night long with waves like bloody great mountains tossing the boat about like a cork. You could hear the pitch of the screws change as they came out of the water. Eventually, it calmed down as we approached the Med Sea and the straights of Gibraltar. The crew were all busy cleaning and washing the decks down, there was sick everywhere. For some reason I was not sick at all, probably because I had laid down and just stared at the sky, terrified and vowing never to get on board a ship again

Once we got into calmer seas and we could see the coastlines of Spain and Portugal we started to enjoy ourselves, apart from having to do boat drills and cleaning our deck area ready for the Captains daily inspection. The boat drill was done on the upper deck, I often wondered how putting two life saving pillows, one at the back of your neck and one under your chin, would save your life if the ship went down, and if you jumped over the side with these on you would probably break your neck. What I did notice was none of the crew wore this type of life belt. I did not dwell on it too much as I couldn’t swim a stroke anyway. It was about this time that the festive season was upon us, Christmas at sea with NCOs waiting on us and a tot of rum in our tea, what more could a squaddie ask for? We all had a great time, some of us perhaps a little homesick [that’s an under statement].

Me on board in the Med.	Cpl. Mack Crawford, Me, Lofty Backhouse.

We arrived at Port Said and the Suez Canal. On the 27^th December 1949. We were soon surrounded by local traders in their Bum Boats sending up their wares in baskets and being fiddled rotten by us lot sending them down odd coppers from our pockets.

Bumboats alongside the MV Dunera. Port Said December 1949.

Some of us were allowed ashore for a short visit. This was very interesting and enjoyable to see places you had only read about in books at school, there were many local beggars about and a lot of people living in poverty and the smells were something else. One of my pals, Cfn. Lofty Backhouse, was taken to the military hospital here. He had been suffering badly with seasickness for most of the time aboard ship and was quite ill. He came from the Stockport area I think. I never saw him again I hope he made it home okay.

Port Said from the Suez Canal on board the MV Dunera. December 1949.

Navy House, Suez Canal, December 1949.

It was at this time that things started to go a bit wrong. After leaving Port Said, sailing along the Suez Canal with us all enjoying the views and waving to the Arabs lining the banks, the ship suddenly came to a stop due to colliding with a sand bank, apparently this was because our ship had to move over to allow an aircraft carrier to pass through. This did some damage to one of her screws and reduced our speed considerably. We eventually entered the Red Sea and sailed slowly to Colombo, we anchored offshore and some of us went ashore in small motor launches for a short visit whilst our ship took on stores etc. We then commenced our slow journey towards Aden and the Indian Ocean. It was during this part of our journey that the worst thing happened, a small child belonging to one of the families died from dehydration and was to be buried at sea. We hove too for the Captain and a Padre to hold a service with us all in attendance. The poor little child was committed to the sea. What a sad occasion and this was one I shall never forget.

We arrived safely in Aden, what a god-forsaken place this was. We anchored out in the harbour near to some floating pipelines attached to buoys. These were for us to take on water. It was purified seawater and tasted awful.

Aden and taking on water from a pipeline attached to a buoy. January 1950

Small local boys used to dive from these buoys to collect coins thrown from the ship. Our forces allowed us ashore for a restricted visit only due to some terrorist activity in the mountains being dealt with. I am glad I was not posted there. It was awful, dust everywhere due to the climate and shortage of rain in the region. We were soon on our way again on the last leg of our journey to Singapore. By this time we had been kitted out in tropical gear, in our case olive green jackets and shorts, a sight to behold, white knobbly knees in baggy shorts galore. We were now crossing the Indian Ocean slowly at half speed, the sea was calm, the sun was red hot, and things were getting better. I remember spending hours looking over the side at dolphins leaping out of the water alongside the ship, they used to follow the ship for miles.

During this crossing we met another troopship passing homeward bound. It was our sister ship the Dilwara. They both passed quite close to each other and there were lots of cheering and shouting from them for us to “Get Your Bloody Knees Brown.''

Eventually we sailed into the Straights of Malaya. We had good views of the coastal and jungle areas, they looked quite formidable and for some of the troops on board not nice places to have to fight a war in.

Going ashore, Colombo January 1950.

Some of the names of the lads I met on this voyage that spring to mind are Cfn. Viv Carter from Oldham, Cpl. Mack Crawford, Lofty Backhouse from Stockport, Cfn. Williams from London, Cfn. Morris, Cfn. Roscoe, Cfn. Bill Batt from London, Cfn. Don Higgins and some that are just nicknames like Brummies, Geordies, Jocks, Taffies, and Paddies, you are all on my photographs and I hope to be in touch with some of you one day.

Published: 1^st August 2007

Chapter Nine.