STEAM AT WAR 13
We put into Freemantle for thirtysix hours and had twelve hours shore leave. Most of the troops went into Perth to spend the time. A few of us teamed up, had dinner in Perth and took an afternoon train a little further inland to Midlands Junction where the Western Australian Railway workshops were located. We were welcomed and given a tour of the works and shown new locomotives for their railways and boilers under construction for mine sweepers. We were treated to a few social beers in the local pub and returned on the worker's train to Perth and Freemantle.
Next morning the convoy set off down the coast round the corner and across the Australian Bight and in a few days put into Hobart. We passed in through the submarine barrier that consisted of heavy steel netting at the sea end of the deep entrance bay and drawn aside by mine sweepers to make passage. A destroyer followed the ships through dropping depth charges prior to the closing of the barrier. We sailed up that scenic tree and farmlands bordered waterway to the town backed by snow-capped Mount Wellington. We were there for six frustrating hours with no shore leave and again set off across the Tasman for good old New Zealand. We passed south of Stewart Island and up the South Island east coast with the Dunedin contingent recognising the Otago Peninsular. It was a murky day so did not see any more land until arriving in Wellington Harbour on the morning of 12th of July 1943 to the overwhelming pungent odours of lush bush and ferns.
The Wellington and Hutt Valley troops were disembarked within a few hours of berthing followed later in the day by the Auckland and South Island people. The Manawatu, Wanganui, Taranaki and Hawkes Bay troops were off-loaded the next day. Adjacent to our quarters was a ships orderly room containing an extensive range of office equipment including thirty Remington typewriters. On the morning after our arrival only twenty-nine remained. What a witch hunt took place! But they were looking at the wrong people. No doubt someone's rehabilitation in the secretarial world got off to a good start. Those like myself bound for Palmerston North were disembarked in the early afternoon and within three hours reunited with our families.
The New Zealand Railways due to wartime pressures were very short of staff which was the main reason why the government wanted the railway battalions back home rather than being sent to another theatre of war. Thus, the companies were disbanded and the men returned to their jobs. I was retained in the army for three months while undergoing hospital treatment for my now very severe digestive disorder. The retention of food was an ongoing problem. Finally I was discharged on a war pension and unofficially warned that if I valued my pension not to take up any employment. At age 24 this was not news to my liking. I went back to work where I had left off as a locomotive fireman that did nothing for my health. The irregular hours of work, sleep and meals took its toll so after seven months I resigned from the railway and re-entered my first choice of trade as a turner and fitter in a small engineering works serving the district's agricultural industry and lost my pension. With the support of the returned servicemen's rehabilitation scheme I completed my engineering apprenticeship and gained trade certification.
I recovered my health, married my wartime correspondent and used my rehabilitation loan to build our home. We raised two daughters, moved on in my trade to leading hand, works foreman, works manager, secondary school teacher in technical subjects, middle management in a textile factory then retirement but not idleness.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 12
As the active war zone receded westwards and the North African ports became operable the desert railway ran out of work as a supply line but continued in use bringing out the vast quantity of war wreckage. Our 16th operating company was relieved from what had been a long and arduous term of duty, and withdrawn to the New Zealand forces base camp at Maadi.
I was joined to a small detachment of eight men to be transported to El Kantara on the Suez Canal to pick up a fleet of diesel electric locomotives and ferry them up to Beirut in Lebanon. There we were to establish train-loading schedules over the routes from Beirut to Haifa in Palestine and Beirut to Tripoli in north Lebanon near the border with Syria. We also had to train South African engine-men to operate the new diesels that were displacing steam engines that in turn were being sent to work in Turkey.
We were based in a beautiful campsite in an olive grove with fourteen American technicians who maintained the locomotives and sixteen South African engine-men. There was excellent comradeship among this specialised group and life was idyllic. The north and south runs were right on the Mediterranean coast and we were given the superfluous advice to not permit night-time lighting that could be visible from the sea.
After four months in this beautiful part of the world the four married men of our group were recalled to base to prepare for furlough to NZ. We held a farewell party and gave those who lived near our homes messages to our families. We remaining single fellows carried on in apparent isolation but we were not forgotten and a week later in some urgency we were commanded to return to the furlough embarkation camp at Giza in the shadow of the Great Pyramids. Thus, after a four-day train journey we arrived and divested ourselves of everything that we could not carry in our sea kit bags. Four days later we were transported by road to Suez, loaded onto the 37000 ton New Amsterdam and at 16.00 hours that day weighed anchor and commenced the thirty day homeward journey. There were more than 6000 troops aboard. We enjoyed three meals daily and those of us who gained possession of one of the 700 library books read the time away. A few of them were good and some utter rubbish, but the possession of a book meant that one exchanged it hand to hand for another. There were frequent appeals for the return of all books to the library under threat of cessation of further issues. As the library was empty we did not fall for that one. They got them back at the end of the voyage. We were billeted up on an enclosed weather deck in rather more comfortable conditions than we had experienced on the outward journey nearly three years earlier. We actually enjoyed reacquainting ourselves with hammocks. After two days sailing down the Red Sea we put into the port of Aden and lay at anchor for two days within the perimeter of volcanic peaks surrounding the huge crater harbour. We were not ashore and by the look of Aden with its barren surrounds we did not feel deprived. Our ship was joined by thee more to make up a convoy that changed in structure at various points of the journey.
We departed Aden and steamed across the Indian Ocean to pass off Colombo and head down the Australian West Coast. By day the convoy travelled at moderate speed pursuing a zigzag course and at night speed was increased and a straight course followed. The Dominion Monarch was stationed off our port beam. In some heavy weather we were to see her plough through waves cresting higher than her bridge superstructure. Frequently our escorting destroyers and light cruisers would turn off and disappear over the horizon and hours later or next morning were back in their normal stations. When we reached the Australian coast the warships went off elsewhere and Catalina amphibian aircraft took over the escort duties. We noted members of the crews visible in their observation blisters.
As the active war zone receded westwards and the North African ports became operable the desert railway ran out of work as a supply line but continued in use bringing out the vast quantity of war wreckage. Our 16th operating company was relieved from what had been a long and arduous term of duty, and withdrawn to the New Zealand forces base camp at Maadi.
I was joined to a small detachment of eight men to be transported to El Kantara on the Suez Canal to pick up a fleet of diesel electric locomotives and ferry them up to Beirut in Lebanon. There we were to establish train-loading schedules over the routes from Beirut to Haifa in Palestine and Beirut to Tripoli in north Lebanon near the border with Syria. We also had to train South African engine-men to operate the new diesels that were displacing steam engines that in turn were being sent to work in Turkey.
We were based in a beautiful campsite in an olive grove with fourteen American technicians who maintained the locomotives and sixteen South African engine-men. There was excellent comradeship among this specialised group and life was idyllic. The north and south runs were right on the Mediterranean coast and we were given the superfluous advice to not permit night-time lighting that could be visible from the sea.
After four months in this beautiful part of the world the four married men of our group were recalled to base to prepare for furlough to NZ. We held a farewell party and gave those who lived near our homes messages to our families. We remaining single fellows carried on in apparent isolation but we were not forgotten and a week later in some urgency we were commanded to return to the furlough embarkation camp at Giza in the shadow of the Great Pyramids. Thus, after a four-day train journey we arrived and divested ourselves of everything that we could not carry in our sea kit bags. Four days later we were transported by road to Suez, loaded onto the 37000 ton New Amsterdam and at 16.00 hours that day weighed anchor and commenced the thirty day homeward journey. There were more than 6000 troops aboard. We enjoyed three meals daily and those of us who gained possession of one of the 700 library books read the time away. A few of them were good and some utter rubbish, but the possession of a book meant that one exchanged it hand to hand for another. There were frequent appeals for the return of all books to the library under threat of cessation of further issues. As the library was empty we did not fall for that one. They got them back at the end of the voyage. We were billeted up on an enclosed weather deck in rather more comfortable conditions than we had experienced on the outward journey nearly three years earlier. We actually enjoyed reacquainting ourselves with hammocks. After two days sailing down the Red Sea we put into the port of Aden and lay at anchor for two days within the perimeter of volcanic peaks surrounding the huge crater harbour. We were not ashore and by the look of Aden with its barren surrounds we did not feel deprived. Our ship was joined by thee more to make up a convoy that changed in structure at various points of the journey.
We departed Aden and steamed across the Indian Ocean to pass off Colombo and head down the Australian West Coast. By day the convoy travelled at moderate speed pursuing a zigzag course and at night speed was increased and a straight course followed. The Dominion Monarch was stationed off our port beam. In some heavy weather we were to see her plough through waves cresting higher than her bridge superstructure. Frequently our escorting destroyers and light cruisers would turn off and disappear over the horizon and hours later or next morning were back in their normal stations. When we reached the Australian coast the warships went off elsewhere and Catalina amphibian aircraft took over the escort duties. We noted members of the crews visible in their observation blisters.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 11
Following a week of horrendous bombardment from allied artillery by night and aerial bombing by day the enemy was routed. As the railway track was repaired we followed up with supply trains, first with a field workshop train to which I was attached for two weeks to eventually arrive at the end of rail within sight of Tobruk. The Germans had built the final 19kms of track to the edge of the escarpment overlooking Tobruk by dismantling some of our sidings and balloon loops and transferring the rails and sleepers. Over the entire 560 kilometres from El Alamein to end of rail the war wreckage presented vivid evidence of a great long running battle. Burned out tanks especially Italian tanks all pointing west were still smouldering. There were destroyed road transport vehicles, half-track troop carriers and everywhere temporary graves marked by wooden crosses and German and Italian helmets. There were intact munitions supply dumps and airfields littered with self destroyed fighter planes. We passed through a rearguard action site at Fort Capuzzo where the defence emplacement consisted of nothing more than a metre high wall of rocks and rubble. The sight and stench of the shredded Italian clothing and equipment was appalling.
A winding road from the end of rail led down to the Tobruk port. Our construction units built several widely spaced railway spurs or curved back-shunts onto which we pushed the arriving trains then disconnected and moved out about a half kilometre while Indian labour gangs performed the 3 to 3½ hour task of unloading. We then backed up, hooked on and cleared out hopefully before enemy air attacks that by then had become few and far between. About 25Km short of Tobruk a large airfield was established at Gambut from where American Liberator bombers attacked targets in Italy. It had its own railway siding and we regularly delivered trainloads of bombs and aviation fuel. The sight of twenty-one of these heavily loaded bombers taking off in echelon formation was awe-inspiring. The dust from the surface would hang in the air for an hour or more. From the approaches to Gambut and Tobruk we were to watch these places come under air attack, especially the Tobruk port where the harbour was jammed with sunken British, German and Italian ships.
During their occupation the enemy had brought over about twelve diesel mechanical locomotives to work as much as they could of the captured railway. There were three sizes, 500, 350 and 250 horsepower. Most of them were rendered unserviceable by having their engine fuel systems destroyed. The few that were mobile soon became inoperable through breakdown and lack of spare parts. All were pushed to the ends of spurs and back-shunts to serve as end of track stop blocks. The Italians contributed about an equal number of ingeniously designed yard shunting locomotives that had tall central cabs with the engines mounted beneath. They were built on low slung chasses the ends of which carried traversing jacks which in the retracted position passed beneath the wagon headstocks. Evidently Italian railway working methods called for much preoccupation with re-railing of wagons. None of these were left serviceable and joined wreckage bulldozed clear of the tracks.
A great gift to the allied forces was the capture of large numbers of Italian Fiat and Lancia heavy-duty diesel lorries. These were most durable vehicles that stood up to continuous use. By contrast, the German trucks, especially those with air cooled motors soon joined the junk piles. Highly prized were the captured Italian Lancia and Alce motor cycles. They were the first sprung rear end motor cycles that we had seen. Their very smooth running motors had quite large external flywheels. The finely engineered German BMW motor cycles that came into our hands did not survive long in the desert conditions.
Following a week of horrendous bombardment from allied artillery by night and aerial bombing by day the enemy was routed. As the railway track was repaired we followed up with supply trains, first with a field workshop train to which I was attached for two weeks to eventually arrive at the end of rail within sight of Tobruk. The Germans had built the final 19kms of track to the edge of the escarpment overlooking Tobruk by dismantling some of our sidings and balloon loops and transferring the rails and sleepers. Over the entire 560 kilometres from El Alamein to end of rail the war wreckage presented vivid evidence of a great long running battle. Burned out tanks especially Italian tanks all pointing west were still smouldering. There were destroyed road transport vehicles, half-track troop carriers and everywhere temporary graves marked by wooden crosses and German and Italian helmets. There were intact munitions supply dumps and airfields littered with self destroyed fighter planes. We passed through a rearguard action site at Fort Capuzzo where the defence emplacement consisted of nothing more than a metre high wall of rocks and rubble. The sight and stench of the shredded Italian clothing and equipment was appalling.
A winding road from the end of rail led down to the Tobruk port. Our construction units built several widely spaced railway spurs or curved back-shunts onto which we pushed the arriving trains then disconnected and moved out about a half kilometre while Indian labour gangs performed the 3 to 3½ hour task of unloading. We then backed up, hooked on and cleared out hopefully before enemy air attacks that by then had become few and far between. About 25Km short of Tobruk a large airfield was established at Gambut from where American Liberator bombers attacked targets in Italy. It had its own railway siding and we regularly delivered trainloads of bombs and aviation fuel. The sight of twenty-one of these heavily loaded bombers taking off in echelon formation was awe-inspiring. The dust from the surface would hang in the air for an hour or more. From the approaches to Gambut and Tobruk we were to watch these places come under air attack, especially the Tobruk port where the harbour was jammed with sunken British, German and Italian ships.
During their occupation the enemy had brought over about twelve diesel mechanical locomotives to work as much as they could of the captured railway. There were three sizes, 500, 350 and 250 horsepower. Most of them were rendered unserviceable by having their engine fuel systems destroyed. The few that were mobile soon became inoperable through breakdown and lack of spare parts. All were pushed to the ends of spurs and back-shunts to serve as end of track stop blocks. The Italians contributed about an equal number of ingeniously designed yard shunting locomotives that had tall central cabs with the engines mounted beneath. They were built on low slung chasses the ends of which carried traversing jacks which in the retracted position passed beneath the wagon headstocks. Evidently Italian railway working methods called for much preoccupation with re-railing of wagons. None of these were left serviceable and joined wreckage bulldozed clear of the tracks.
A great gift to the allied forces was the capture of large numbers of Italian Fiat and Lancia heavy-duty diesel lorries. These were most durable vehicles that stood up to continuous use. By contrast, the German trucks, especially those with air cooled motors soon joined the junk piles. Highly prized were the captured Italian Lancia and Alce motor cycles. They were the first sprung rear end motor cycles that we had seen. Their very smooth running motors had quite large external flywheels. The finely engineered German BMW motor cycles that came into our hands did not survive long in the desert conditions.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 10
We were taken by ambulance to the casualty clearing station where we were able to witness the superb efficiency and dedication with which the staff dealt with the severe to not so severely wounded. I was in the latter category and received attention at 22.00 hours that night. I awoke next morning to find my burns skinned and dyed and dressed. There turned out to be small sutured areas on the balls of my thumbs and a skin graft inside one wrist. The largest visible wound was a relatively small area on one forearm from where the skin had been taken for the graft.
Next day my driver was flown to a hospital near Cairo and an ambulance train took me to the then forward hospital at Gerawla about 12kms east of my unit base at Similla. I vaguely remember my admission to the hospital and waking up in what seemed to be next morning feeling good. A patient in the next bed said, "Gee Kiwi what happened to you! You've been asleep for three days. They brought your meals and took them away again". I thought that such a thing could not have occurred, but some days later I was to see a British soldier with no apparent injury but in poor physical shape do just that. When he awoke the ward sister washed and shaved him, cut his hair and trimmed his toenails and fingernails. A man transformed! I used to admire these Tommy soldiers for when enemy prisoners of war were brought out they were escorted by some of the soldiers who captured them. Such escorts often looked more battered than their prisoners. After three weeks I was discharged back to my unit and following two weeks light duties rostered back onto the railhead trains. My driver of the incident a much older man than I did not show sufficient recovery and was returned home. For his attempt at rescuing me he was mentioned in despatches. The Similla-Mashiefa trains were given some protection with the addition of anti-aircraft gun equipped wagons marshalled next to the engines and guards' vans. The tender skin on my hands and wrists chafed and bled and I received dressing replacements at the regimental aid posts at the ends of the trips. Healing became permanent after about two weeks. .
During this time the allied forces commenced the withdrawal to El Alamein. We were the only loads travelling west with mostly fuel to sustain the retreating army. Came the final two days when we withdrew every locomotive and railway wagon possible with as many as five east bound trains occupying a single 13km section. Unclaimed petrol was set on fire and about 150 wagons were left behind. Following four days of start-stop progress over heavily bomb blasted and hastily repaired track the company arrived intact at Alexandria. Our train together with three or four locomotives was shunted into the absentee King Farouk's private station where we camped for a week then moved to a permanent site in a suburb close to the walled railway yards. We enjoyed the experience of living in a luxuriously grassed park that was alive with toads and small lizards that scuttled everywhere.
As the front line stabilised at El Alamein we commenced running supply trains to a temporary railhead at Burg El Arab 56kms west of Alexandria. About four trains a day were run during the early parts of the nights. In anticipation of our return to the western desert railway a fleet of American diesel electric locomotives was shipped to the vast army stores at Suez. 16th and 17th railway personnel were selected for training in their operation. For this group the companies chose the steam locomotive firemen who had accumulated long service on the railhead runs. I became a member of a detachment to a locomotive instruction school at Suez where we had about a month gaining handling experience shunting the rail network serving the stores yards spread out over several square kilometres. We then took several of the new locomotives via the Egyptian State Railways route along the western side of the Suez Canal to El Firdan and across the new army erected swing-bridge to the eastern bank. We then worked trains over a new military line constructed from El Kantara to El Shatt that was another military supply dump at the southern end of the canal opposite Suez. For about six weeks we worked supply trains over this route, some bound for the El Alamein front and others from El Kantara to Gaza on the first leg of their journeys to Turkey. Finally we delivered the locomotives to our base at Alexandria and set about training more drivers over the Alexandria-Burg El Arab section.
We were taken by ambulance to the casualty clearing station where we were able to witness the superb efficiency and dedication with which the staff dealt with the severe to not so severely wounded. I was in the latter category and received attention at 22.00 hours that night. I awoke next morning to find my burns skinned and dyed and dressed. There turned out to be small sutured areas on the balls of my thumbs and a skin graft inside one wrist. The largest visible wound was a relatively small area on one forearm from where the skin had been taken for the graft.
Next day my driver was flown to a hospital near Cairo and an ambulance train took me to the then forward hospital at Gerawla about 12kms east of my unit base at Similla. I vaguely remember my admission to the hospital and waking up in what seemed to be next morning feeling good. A patient in the next bed said, "Gee Kiwi what happened to you! You've been asleep for three days. They brought your meals and took them away again". I thought that such a thing could not have occurred, but some days later I was to see a British soldier with no apparent injury but in poor physical shape do just that. When he awoke the ward sister washed and shaved him, cut his hair and trimmed his toenails and fingernails. A man transformed! I used to admire these Tommy soldiers for when enemy prisoners of war were brought out they were escorted by some of the soldiers who captured them. Such escorts often looked more battered than their prisoners. After three weeks I was discharged back to my unit and following two weeks light duties rostered back onto the railhead trains. My driver of the incident a much older man than I did not show sufficient recovery and was returned home. For his attempt at rescuing me he was mentioned in despatches. The Similla-Mashiefa trains were given some protection with the addition of anti-aircraft gun equipped wagons marshalled next to the engines and guards' vans. The tender skin on my hands and wrists chafed and bled and I received dressing replacements at the regimental aid posts at the ends of the trips. Healing became permanent after about two weeks. .
During this time the allied forces commenced the withdrawal to El Alamein. We were the only loads travelling west with mostly fuel to sustain the retreating army. Came the final two days when we withdrew every locomotive and railway wagon possible with as many as five east bound trains occupying a single 13km section. Unclaimed petrol was set on fire and about 150 wagons were left behind. Following four days of start-stop progress over heavily bomb blasted and hastily repaired track the company arrived intact at Alexandria. Our train together with three or four locomotives was shunted into the absentee King Farouk's private station where we camped for a week then moved to a permanent site in a suburb close to the walled railway yards. We enjoyed the experience of living in a luxuriously grassed park that was alive with toads and small lizards that scuttled everywhere.
As the front line stabilised at El Alamein we commenced running supply trains to a temporary railhead at Burg El Arab 56kms west of Alexandria. About four trains a day were run during the early parts of the nights. In anticipation of our return to the western desert railway a fleet of American diesel electric locomotives was shipped to the vast army stores at Suez. 16th and 17th railway personnel were selected for training in their operation. For this group the companies chose the steam locomotive firemen who had accumulated long service on the railhead runs. I became a member of a detachment to a locomotive instruction school at Suez where we had about a month gaining handling experience shunting the rail network serving the stores yards spread out over several square kilometres. We then took several of the new locomotives via the Egyptian State Railways route along the western side of the Suez Canal to El Firdan and across the new army erected swing-bridge to the eastern bank. We then worked trains over a new military line constructed from El Kantara to El Shatt that was another military supply dump at the southern end of the canal opposite Suez. For about six weeks we worked supply trains over this route, some bound for the El Alamein front and others from El Kantara to Gaza on the first leg of their journeys to Turkey. Finally we delivered the locomotives to our base at Alexandria and set about training more drivers over the Alexandria-Burg El Arab section.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 9
Back at the base camp at Similla our commanding officer had winkled out a recreation hut for the company. It was a prefabricated building about the size of a school classroom erected in short time by unit personnel. We were forbidden its use until a 1.5 metre deep slit trench had been dug right around it. A party of us was directed to dig the trench with the carrot that if it was finished to the satisfaction of the commanding officer the company could have the use of the hut that night. We commenced the formidable task with characteristic groans and moans. By 16.00 hours the trench was down to 30cms, and then a lone enemy twin engine fighter bomber made a low pass across the camp dropping a stick of 25kg bombs and firing its nose guns. We flung ourselves sardine fashion into our shallow trench, the men at the bottom feeling relatively secure but the top layer feeling decidedly vulnerable. We clambered out, shook off the dust and dug like hell to finish the trench before evening mess. With some banter, the major passed it OK and permitted occupation. Thus, we came to enjoy a spacious canteen and games room.
During the last few months before the enemy advance to El Alamein the railway had been completed to Fort Capuzzo on the Egyptian-Libyan boarder and set out with train dispersal yards and balloon loop on a smaller scale than the installations at Masheifa. Also, on a stop-go programme the track was extended from fort Capuzzo to within 19km of Tobruk. In the two months leading up to the allied forces retreat from the Western Desert the railway came under increased attention from the enemy. Messerschmidt 109F fighter planes carrying machine guns and 20mm cannon made strafing attacks against locomotives. The machine gum ammunition contained armour piercing bullets that penetrated locomotive boilers through to tubes and inner fireboxes. The cannon shells were explosive and blew fist sized holes in the boiler insulation sheet metal cladding as well as take out cab windows and boiler steam pressure and water level gauges. We had survived strafing runs when the targets had been troops on the ground at the sides of trains at crossing loops. On the night of 6th March 1942 we coupled onto a troop train at Similla and were warned that intelligence had advised that the enemy was about to commence a crippling action against the trains from that night on. We proceeded as usual exercising what vigilance we could and entered the crossing loop at Mazhud, two stations from our destination. We had only just come to a stop at about 10.30 hours when there was a slam that shook the locomotive accompanied by a horrendous roar of escaping steam. I saw my driver pass through a head-high jet of steam, cross the cab and leap out. I dropped to the floor and rolled beneath the coal-shovelling chute of the tender.
While I sheltered there a second plane raked the engine and passed over then I became choked out by billowing hot steam. I groped around until I felt cool air and tumbled to the ground, looked up to see a third fighter beginning its run in. I dived under the tender and clambered up onto an axle and listened to the hellish spat of bullets as the plane completed its run. I was prepared to stay there until satisfied that the attack was over but a rush of hot water from the punctured boiler flowed back between the rails and steamed me out. A plane was making a steep turn and again lining up, so I made a dash for a wheel rut in the sand and hit the ground and watched to be mightily relieved to see the plane fly over without firing a shot. I got up and noted clouds of steam billowing from all over the engine and my driver accompanied by a British officer attempting to discover if I was still in the steam filled cab. I grabbed his arm to make him realise over the noise that I was indeed alive and kicking. We moved clear of the engine and only then found that we had suffered some burns. His were quite severe down one side of his face and neck. Mine were relatively superficial about my forehead and forearms and into the flesh about my hands and wrists. My eyes were smarting badly and a piece of flesh stood proud on the bridge of my nose. The crossing station crew took us to their quarters, brewed us good strong sweet tea and with their limited resources attempted to dress our injuries. Reports came in that three more locomotives had been knocked out, one at a station ahead of us and two at stations behind us. Amazingly there were no fatalities among the engine crews. One driver suffered a severed tendon of a little finger. Of the firemen one lost an eye, one a deep slicing wound across the back of his thigh and the third slight burns to his head.
Back at the base camp at Similla our commanding officer had winkled out a recreation hut for the company. It was a prefabricated building about the size of a school classroom erected in short time by unit personnel. We were forbidden its use until a 1.5 metre deep slit trench had been dug right around it. A party of us was directed to dig the trench with the carrot that if it was finished to the satisfaction of the commanding officer the company could have the use of the hut that night. We commenced the formidable task with characteristic groans and moans. By 16.00 hours the trench was down to 30cms, and then a lone enemy twin engine fighter bomber made a low pass across the camp dropping a stick of 25kg bombs and firing its nose guns. We flung ourselves sardine fashion into our shallow trench, the men at the bottom feeling relatively secure but the top layer feeling decidedly vulnerable. We clambered out, shook off the dust and dug like hell to finish the trench before evening mess. With some banter, the major passed it OK and permitted occupation. Thus, we came to enjoy a spacious canteen and games room.
During the last few months before the enemy advance to El Alamein the railway had been completed to Fort Capuzzo on the Egyptian-Libyan boarder and set out with train dispersal yards and balloon loop on a smaller scale than the installations at Masheifa. Also, on a stop-go programme the track was extended from fort Capuzzo to within 19km of Tobruk. In the two months leading up to the allied forces retreat from the Western Desert the railway came under increased attention from the enemy. Messerschmidt 109F fighter planes carrying machine guns and 20mm cannon made strafing attacks against locomotives. The machine gum ammunition contained armour piercing bullets that penetrated locomotive boilers through to tubes and inner fireboxes. The cannon shells were explosive and blew fist sized holes in the boiler insulation sheet metal cladding as well as take out cab windows and boiler steam pressure and water level gauges. We had survived strafing runs when the targets had been troops on the ground at the sides of trains at crossing loops. On the night of 6th March 1942 we coupled onto a troop train at Similla and were warned that intelligence had advised that the enemy was about to commence a crippling action against the trains from that night on. We proceeded as usual exercising what vigilance we could and entered the crossing loop at Mazhud, two stations from our destination. We had only just come to a stop at about 10.30 hours when there was a slam that shook the locomotive accompanied by a horrendous roar of escaping steam. I saw my driver pass through a head-high jet of steam, cross the cab and leap out. I dropped to the floor and rolled beneath the coal-shovelling chute of the tender.
While I sheltered there a second plane raked the engine and passed over then I became choked out by billowing hot steam. I groped around until I felt cool air and tumbled to the ground, looked up to see a third fighter beginning its run in. I dived under the tender and clambered up onto an axle and listened to the hellish spat of bullets as the plane completed its run. I was prepared to stay there until satisfied that the attack was over but a rush of hot water from the punctured boiler flowed back between the rails and steamed me out. A plane was making a steep turn and again lining up, so I made a dash for a wheel rut in the sand and hit the ground and watched to be mightily relieved to see the plane fly over without firing a shot. I got up and noted clouds of steam billowing from all over the engine and my driver accompanied by a British officer attempting to discover if I was still in the steam filled cab. I grabbed his arm to make him realise over the noise that I was indeed alive and kicking. We moved clear of the engine and only then found that we had suffered some burns. His were quite severe down one side of his face and neck. Mine were relatively superficial about my forehead and forearms and into the flesh about my hands and wrists. My eyes were smarting badly and a piece of flesh stood proud on the bridge of my nose. The crossing station crew took us to their quarters, brewed us good strong sweet tea and with their limited resources attempted to dress our injuries. Reports came in that three more locomotives had been knocked out, one at a station ahead of us and two at stations behind us. Amazingly there were no fatalities among the engine crews. One driver suffered a severed tendon of a little finger. Of the firemen one lost an eye, one a deep slicing wound across the back of his thigh and the third slight burns to his head.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 8
The frequent dust storms that blew from two to three days duration were a living hell with the only consolation being that the enemy could not operate against us. We kept going albeit a little slower and consumed lots of liquid that kept our innards working more or less normally. The wear and tear on the engine external machinery in such conditions was extremely high with some parts requiring replacement every two weeks. Piston rod packing glands and crosshead slippers suffered the worst.
Various trackside events called for attention. One was an evening raid by the occupants of two German short take-off and landing aircraft that landed beside the track and two crew members alighted from each leaving the motors running while they proceeded to plant land mines beneath the track. They were observed by a Bren gun carrier patrol that sped towards the scene causing the party to flee to the waiting aircraft one of which stalled its motor, so all boarded the second plane and flew off. Mine disposal soon cleared the area and order was restored. While I was not witness to the event I was to admire this example of a German specialised aircraft before it was taken away intact by our air force recovery team. Another track-side distraction was a 500Kg enemy aerial bomb that like many had failed to explode. One of the station crews watched it drop from a low flying bomber, hit the ground and bounce over and over before coming to rest about 20 metres from the track. It remained there for two or three days and we were instructed to proceed dead slow past it. We kept to the far sides of our engine cabs as we trundled past feeling sure that we could see it expanding. Much to our relief a bomb disposal squad eventually removed it.
Enemy activity against the railway was most intensive on bright moonlight nights and our journey times between Similla and Masheifa were slowed accordingly. Out and back trips usually took two days but in bad times four days on our engines were not unusual. After the first 24 hours our eating habits would go haywire and large quantities of sweet tea and coffee became the main sustenance. Train crews were issued with four days food rations at the outsets of their journeys and we supplemented these with tinned foods out of our most gratefully received food parcels. Our thanks went out to all those mothers, wives, sisters, girl friends, clubs and patriotic societies back home. Their tinned savaloys, beans, stews, spaghetti and soups were heated up on boiler back-heads and diesel engine exhaust manifolds. However, on such nights when danger was seen to be lurking we would slow down to a walking pace and listen for aircraft engines. If they were too close for comfort we would stop thereby eliminating the telltale exhaust steam from the engine and move about 100 metres away from the train to listen and watch until the threat had receded. On these nights the railhead would be subjected to repeated attacks and we would make the final seven or eight kilometre approach very slowly to the outer limit of the station yard from where we would observe the apparent mayhem taking place. We were well aware that daylight would reveal very little material damage. It amazed us that attacking aircraft seemed to fly blissfully through the incredible amount of flak being thrown up at them. High and low flying aircraft were met and followed by a barrage from heavy, medium and light anti-aircraft guns and pass out of range to fight another day.
Taking advantage of a respite we would draw into the arrival yard noting all likely shelters in the form of ground humps and hollows, slit trenches and bunkers for ready reference in anticipation of further attacks. We would take a brief spell while a servicing crew took charge of our locomotive, cleaned the fire, filled the lubricating oil reservoirs, turned the engine and reversed the order of the two 4000 gallon water batteries. When ready we would hastily resume duty, couple onto a waiting return train and roll out of there exceeding the regulation speed limit to reach the psychological if not actual safety of the wadhi 19 km distant below the escarpment.
The frequent dust storms that blew from two to three days duration were a living hell with the only consolation being that the enemy could not operate against us. We kept going albeit a little slower and consumed lots of liquid that kept our innards working more or less normally. The wear and tear on the engine external machinery in such conditions was extremely high with some parts requiring replacement every two weeks. Piston rod packing glands and crosshead slippers suffered the worst.
Various trackside events called for attention. One was an evening raid by the occupants of two German short take-off and landing aircraft that landed beside the track and two crew members alighted from each leaving the motors running while they proceeded to plant land mines beneath the track. They were observed by a Bren gun carrier patrol that sped towards the scene causing the party to flee to the waiting aircraft one of which stalled its motor, so all boarded the second plane and flew off. Mine disposal soon cleared the area and order was restored. While I was not witness to the event I was to admire this example of a German specialised aircraft before it was taken away intact by our air force recovery team. Another track-side distraction was a 500Kg enemy aerial bomb that like many had failed to explode. One of the station crews watched it drop from a low flying bomber, hit the ground and bounce over and over before coming to rest about 20 metres from the track. It remained there for two or three days and we were instructed to proceed dead slow past it. We kept to the far sides of our engine cabs as we trundled past feeling sure that we could see it expanding. Much to our relief a bomb disposal squad eventually removed it.
Enemy activity against the railway was most intensive on bright moonlight nights and our journey times between Similla and Masheifa were slowed accordingly. Out and back trips usually took two days but in bad times four days on our engines were not unusual. After the first 24 hours our eating habits would go haywire and large quantities of sweet tea and coffee became the main sustenance. Train crews were issued with four days food rations at the outsets of their journeys and we supplemented these with tinned foods out of our most gratefully received food parcels. Our thanks went out to all those mothers, wives, sisters, girl friends, clubs and patriotic societies back home. Their tinned savaloys, beans, stews, spaghetti and soups were heated up on boiler back-heads and diesel engine exhaust manifolds. However, on such nights when danger was seen to be lurking we would slow down to a walking pace and listen for aircraft engines. If they were too close for comfort we would stop thereby eliminating the telltale exhaust steam from the engine and move about 100 metres away from the train to listen and watch until the threat had receded. On these nights the railhead would be subjected to repeated attacks and we would make the final seven or eight kilometre approach very slowly to the outer limit of the station yard from where we would observe the apparent mayhem taking place. We were well aware that daylight would reveal very little material damage. It amazed us that attacking aircraft seemed to fly blissfully through the incredible amount of flak being thrown up at them. High and low flying aircraft were met and followed by a barrage from heavy, medium and light anti-aircraft guns and pass out of range to fight another day.
Taking advantage of a respite we would draw into the arrival yard noting all likely shelters in the form of ground humps and hollows, slit trenches and bunkers for ready reference in anticipation of further attacks. We would take a brief spell while a servicing crew took charge of our locomotive, cleaned the fire, filled the lubricating oil reservoirs, turned the engine and reversed the order of the two 4000 gallon water batteries. When ready we would hastily resume duty, couple onto a waiting return train and roll out of there exceeding the regulation speed limit to reach the psychological if not actual safety of the wadhi 19 km distant below the escarpment.
Monday, February 22, 2010
STEAM AT WAR 7
The crossing station keepers were bunkered about half way along their sidings and about 100 metres out from the tracks. The greatest horror of the station crews was the arrival and stopping of troop trains when 500 troops who had been cooped up in box wagons would detrain en mass and stoop and crap. The drill that evolved was to stop and hold such trains outside the station yard limits until everyone had crapped out. In the full spirit of "not in my back yard" many ruses were practised by station staff to ensure that such trains were kept rolling past their territories. Station crews established for themselves reasonably good long-drop dunnies that were frequently invaded by passing troops who tended to leave them less than pristine. So the owners would plaster the door with prominent "Beware of the snake" notices and construct a second edifice with a "Safe for use" sign for the peace of mind of the visitors.
While on this subject, one of the stations bore the name "Gundagai" for which the staff had prepared and erected a large name board featuring a dog crouched in an ecstasy of relief over a wicker tucker box. I remember the staff of an ambulance train appreciating this example of desert art.
There were very few if any train crews that escaped without adventure of some sort. To add to my runaway ride from Mohalfa to Similla I was to experience a near miss on the same section but travelling in the opposite direction. The line traversed wadhis that were natural drainage channels from the plateau in the wet seasons. Where track embankments crossed the wadhis two or three 2 metre diameter concrete conduit pipes were laid through the earth fills to provide escape for the water that would otherwise back up. One very wet early morning we had departed from Similla with the usual fully loaded train with banking engine shoving at the rear. After covering 25Km with everything going well and first light of day showing features dimly I spotted an irregularity in the rail alignment about midway around a curve to my side. The track was hanging suspended across a thirty-metre gap in the embankment. I yelled this intelligence to my driver who suspected that I was kidding, and did not immediately react. I cranked on the tender hand brake and shut down steam valves that were my responsibility and clambered out onto the cab steps prepared to take my chance and jump off. He crossed the cab, saw and sprung to action. He slammed the throttle shut and steam brake full on. There was a tremendous surge through the train as the bank engine caught up with the slack. I jumped off and scrambled clear giving hand signals to the rear engine crew too far back to see me in the dim light. However they felt the mighty surge and thinking that we had derailed shut off and braked. Fortunately on coming to a stop they released their brakes to allow the compressed buffers to run out. I ran to the front of our engine and saw that the leading wheels were on the edge of the drop and that the earth was crumbling away. I yelled to my mate to back off which he did with some urgency. The culvert pipes had not coped with the storm water and washed away. A repair gang was soon on the scene with bulldozers and stacks of sleepers and in about four hours saw us on our way.
Camel thorn bushes grew sparsely on patches of the desert and small herds of camels and gazelles roamed in the distance. Other animals that we encountered were desert dogs, foxes, wolves and desert rats. Small snakes, asps, lizards of all kinds, huge beetles and colonies of very large ants were another source of interest. Some of our own aircraft, Hurricanes and Beaufighters returning from missions chose to fly so low that their propeller wash stirred up dust trails. They would pass close alongside our trains and when coming from behind the first we would know of their presence was the sudden roar of their motors as they flashed past at cab window height. Their crews no doubt enjoyed the anticipation of our startled reactions.
There were occasional engine derailments through track subsidence and one engine going into a bomb crater. Where these events occurred the rails were cut each side of the accident site and the ends drawn sideways by bulldozer and the gap rejoined with new rails and sleepers and it was back to business as usual.
The crossing station keepers were bunkered about half way along their sidings and about 100 metres out from the tracks. The greatest horror of the station crews was the arrival and stopping of troop trains when 500 troops who had been cooped up in box wagons would detrain en mass and stoop and crap. The drill that evolved was to stop and hold such trains outside the station yard limits until everyone had crapped out. In the full spirit of "not in my back yard" many ruses were practised by station staff to ensure that such trains were kept rolling past their territories. Station crews established for themselves reasonably good long-drop dunnies that were frequently invaded by passing troops who tended to leave them less than pristine. So the owners would plaster the door with prominent "Beware of the snake" notices and construct a second edifice with a "Safe for use" sign for the peace of mind of the visitors.
While on this subject, one of the stations bore the name "Gundagai" for which the staff had prepared and erected a large name board featuring a dog crouched in an ecstasy of relief over a wicker tucker box. I remember the staff of an ambulance train appreciating this example of desert art.
There were very few if any train crews that escaped without adventure of some sort. To add to my runaway ride from Mohalfa to Similla I was to experience a near miss on the same section but travelling in the opposite direction. The line traversed wadhis that were natural drainage channels from the plateau in the wet seasons. Where track embankments crossed the wadhis two or three 2 metre diameter concrete conduit pipes were laid through the earth fills to provide escape for the water that would otherwise back up. One very wet early morning we had departed from Similla with the usual fully loaded train with banking engine shoving at the rear. After covering 25Km with everything going well and first light of day showing features dimly I spotted an irregularity in the rail alignment about midway around a curve to my side. The track was hanging suspended across a thirty-metre gap in the embankment. I yelled this intelligence to my driver who suspected that I was kidding, and did not immediately react. I cranked on the tender hand brake and shut down steam valves that were my responsibility and clambered out onto the cab steps prepared to take my chance and jump off. He crossed the cab, saw and sprung to action. He slammed the throttle shut and steam brake full on. There was a tremendous surge through the train as the bank engine caught up with the slack. I jumped off and scrambled clear giving hand signals to the rear engine crew too far back to see me in the dim light. However they felt the mighty surge and thinking that we had derailed shut off and braked. Fortunately on coming to a stop they released their brakes to allow the compressed buffers to run out. I ran to the front of our engine and saw that the leading wheels were on the edge of the drop and that the earth was crumbling away. I yelled to my mate to back off which he did with some urgency. The culvert pipes had not coped with the storm water and washed away. A repair gang was soon on the scene with bulldozers and stacks of sleepers and in about four hours saw us on our way.
Camel thorn bushes grew sparsely on patches of the desert and small herds of camels and gazelles roamed in the distance. Other animals that we encountered were desert dogs, foxes, wolves and desert rats. Small snakes, asps, lizards of all kinds, huge beetles and colonies of very large ants were another source of interest. Some of our own aircraft, Hurricanes and Beaufighters returning from missions chose to fly so low that their propeller wash stirred up dust trails. They would pass close alongside our trains and when coming from behind the first we would know of their presence was the sudden roar of their motors as they flashed past at cab window height. Their crews no doubt enjoyed the anticipation of our startled reactions.
There were occasional engine derailments through track subsidence and one engine going into a bomb crater. Where these events occurred the rails were cut each side of the accident site and the ends drawn sideways by bulldozer and the gap rejoined with new rails and sleepers and it was back to business as usual.
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