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Synopsis
During the fifties, the Korean War and the Malayan Emergency committed thousands of young men, regular soldiers and conscripts, to fight communist armies far from home. They faced their task with stoicism and bravery, eventually accomplishing their mission - stemming the tide of communism in the Far East.
The stories in this book are based on fact and tell how it really was for the front-line soldiers in their Korean, snow-covered, hill-top bunkers or in the steaming jungles of Malaya. Without pulling punches, they tell of the heartbreak and futility of war, seemingly un-necessary sacrifice of young lives, death by friendly fire, abuse of prisoners and other distasteful features seen in more recent conflicts.
The still-living combatants will now be in their seventies or older. For them, this book will bring back vivid memories and tell families and friends of their contribution, as young men, to world peace. To younger readers it will give them a taste of combat from over fifty years ago and help them make comparisons with war today.
Sample
A SLOW BOAT TO WAR
Troopship Empire Orwell
THE SHIP'S SIREN sounded loud and long, echoing around the docks and cranes at Southampton. The 20,000-ton troopship slowly edged away from the quay in the month of May 1952, with its 2000 passengers and crew bound for the Far East. Its decks were covered with a swarm of military personnel and out of every porthole on the port side hung others, all shouting and waving their hats. The band on the quayside struck up some old singalong favourites -'We'll meet again', `Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye', 'Auld Lang Syne', which were taken up by voices both on the dock and aboard. On the foredeck the Pipes and Drums of the Black Watch played their own heart-rending farewell to those ashore. Many of the ship's passengers were bound for the war in Korea and a few would be wondering if they would ever see their homeland again.
The ship slowly pulled away from the docks and into Southampton Water, turning west towards the Needles before entering the Channel. For the passengers, the last view of England would be the New Forest and the Isle of Wight.
The seas roughened as the ship headed down the Channel towards western France, Brest and Southern Brittany, and into the Bay of Biscay.
The sick-making rough sea of the Bay eventually gave way to the calmer Mediterranean as they passed the Rock of Gibraltar. The temperature became warmer every day. The ship-board routine included a run round the ship several times before breakfast, encouraged or bullied by PT Instructors.
The morning was taken up with training. The soldiers fired their weapons at targets dropped off the stern of the ship, cleaned their weapons, practised communications with their radios, and drilled. In the afternoon, there was a two-hour break, called `make and mend', originally initiated in the Napoleonic wars when it was recognised that soldiers needed time to clean and repair their uniforms. (Even today soldiers use needles and cotton housed in a small canvas bag called a`housewife' and pronounced 'hussiff'.) Of course, most of the soldiers just slept away the hot afternoon.
Later in the afternoon, they would attend lectures on first aid, some quite advanced, given by doctors and nurses. Other subjects included venereal disease, what to do if captured by the enemy, the history, culture and customs of the land where they were going, and learning a few simple phrases of the language.
In the early evening there was a music request programme, with messages to and from home, broadcasting the romantic tunes which normally follow soldiers to war.
There were bar chits for the daily ration of alcohol: two bottles of beer and cigarettes.
Dinner, in two sittings, was followed by a number of amusements, but none too stimulating. These included a stage show given by the ship's crew; a number of games: tombola, cards, draughts and chess, and charades.
On the night before docking at a port, the soldiers were encouraged to put on a fancy dress party where many were decked out in outrageous home-made costumes, usually as large-breasted women, ludicrously made up.
After a week, the ship arrived at its first refuelling stop, Port Said. The passengers were not allowed ashore but the boat was surrounded by small craft from which traders of every conceivable sort held up their wares and shouted their prices. Ropes were thrown up from the little craft to the ship's railings, goods were hauled up in baskets and money sent down. The system involved trust which did not seem to be abused by any of the parties.
After refuelling, the troopship had to wait for the next southbound convoy down the Suez Canal. The slow speed of canal navigation produced little wind to cool the rising temperatures of Egypt's hot season. The soldiers' boredom was only relieved as they passed the canal stations manned by British uoops, who shouted scathing comments such as `get your knees brown', to which the passengers shouted back the equally demeaning `home posting'.
They sailed on down the Red Sea with a short stop at Aden before heading out into the Indian ocean. There the ship was escorted by a school of dolphins that swam and plunged just ahead of its bow, much to the delight of the squaddies who spent hours watching them and placing bets on the leaders.
Two weeks out of Southampton, they moored in the roads at Colombo in what was then called Ceylon and is now renamed Sri Lanka. A day's shore leave was granted to all but those with shipboard duties.
For Lieutenant James Seaton, Royal Signals, bound for Korea, it was a chance to accompany a number of the army officers to Mount Lavinia, a smart, colonial-style hotel on the coast, south of Colombo. There, fresh food, bathing in the sea and drinking cocktails under the large sun umbrellas provided an all too short break from the ship's engines and the pitch and toss of the sea. He kept in mind that he was to be Junior Duty Officer that evening when he returned to the ship.
The soldiers, a high proportion of Scots amongst them, had spent the trip sleeping between decks or on the foredeck, and were now keen to get their land-legs and down a few local beers. In the evening they noisily returned by ferry to the ship; many were drunk and some were very sick. For most, a good night's sleep would sort them out.
James Seaton reported to the cabin where the Duty Field Officer, a major, had a desk and where the senior military police officer, the Provost Marshal, also sat. Nearby were some cells for wrong-doers.
He approached the major and saluted. "Lieutenant Seaton reporting as Duty Officer, Sir."
"Ah Seaton, your duty lasts from now to 0600 hours tomorrow morning. Your duty involves tours of the whole ship every two hours, particularly where the passengers are. Ensure the bars and entertainment areas are closed down and quiet at 2230 hours, and that all sleeping quarters have lights out at 2300 hours. As you know, the squaddies can sleep on the foredeck if they want, but they must be quiet after 2300 hrs. You must investigate any reported disturbances and deal with any happenings, emergency or otherwise. Serious events should be reported to me as they occur; my cabin is that one with DFO on the door. Sergeant Wilks will be your duty sergeant and it's better for you to patrol the boat together; sometimes a witness is needed. Meet Sergeant Wilks here at 2100 hours. Any questions?"
"No, Sir."
"Well carry on then," and James left with a salute. The duty did not seem very onerous, although he was rather uncertain about the state of the Scots on the foredeck.
He met Sergeant Wilks at the duty cabin at 2100 hours as planned and they started to tour the ship. The Other Ranks' bars were noisier and merrier than usual but there was no unruliness; the soldiers who had returned to the ship drunk were mostly sleeping if off on the foredeck. The officers' bars were also relatively quiet, although the appearance of the Duty Officer produced catcalls and wolf whistles from fellow males and even rude suggestions from the ladies present, mainly army officers and nurses. The Families' Saloon, mainly occupied by wives travelling out to join their husbands, was rather hushed with women playing cards and board games. James took one step into the saloon, saluted, said `Good evening" and left.
"See you at 2230 hours at Administration and we'll repeat the tour," said James to Sergeant Wilks and walked off to his duty cabin.
They met as planned and visited all the bars and saloons which were now empty, the bar staff busy reconciling cash with stock.
"I suppose we must now face the squaddies on the foredeck," mused James.
"Yes, but can I just slip away to get some fags before the bars finally close down?"
-Certainly, Sergeant Wilks, I'll walk on slowly up to the foredeck and meet you there."
James walked on to the foredeck which was covered with sprawling bodies, mostly Scots and mostly asleep. A few were mumbling and some started swearing about English officers but, on the whole, James could live with it. He turned to see if Sergeant Wilks had arrived but he had not. The noise from the dock suddenly increased as a single, slight figure, dressed in shirt and shorts, rose from his sleeping bag and came staggering towards him, muttering.
From the deck came encouragement. " Fix the bloody English officer. Carve him up. Show him what the Black Watch can do. We're not frightened of anybody. Sort him out!"
James saw something in the soldier's hand and then the blade of a flick knife jumped out of its hilt. A quick look round confirmed that Sergeant Wilks had not yet arrived on the scene. The soldier continued coming towards him, weaving his body from side to side, staggering a little and making patterns with the knife as he slashed the air. It was clear that he was drunk but not too drunk to attack.
James stepped forward cautiously with his hand out. "Give me the knife, Soldier, and we can all get back to sleep," he ordered in a quiet but firm voice. Egged on by vicious encouragement from the other soldiers lying on the deck, the lone soldier came on, quickening his pace. The lunge with the knife was way off the mark and James was able to side-step it. The soldier stumbled and fell to the deck with a crash. There was a deathly hush as everyone weighed up the situation; was it attempted murder, attempted grievous bodily harm, an assault on an officer?
"Are you alright, Sir?" Sergeant Wilks had arrived and was bending down over the moaning body where it lay face down on the deck.
"Yes, fine Sergeant. He stumbled and fell."
"Well, I'll just take this knife and put the cuffs on him, in case he does something silly. Come on, lad, we'll take a little walk to the cells where you can sober up. The rest of you get your heads down."
With this he hoisted the drunk onto his back and started walking amidships.
"Will he be for the high jump, Sir? asked the now respectful voice of a corporal. "He's only been in six months; came from a poor family in the Gorbals and got drunk on only a whiff of the bar-maid's apron."
James replied, "We'll see how he is in the morning. Maybe he'll get charged for being drunk."
There was a chorus of appreciation from those on the deck and James realised that he had just learnt a lesson in man management.
He walked slowly off the foredeck and back to the Duty Office. Sergeant Wilks had delivered the drunken soldier to the MP in charge of the cells where the prisoner was already snoring.
"Who is that?" enquired the Duty Field Officer.
James replied, "Just a young soldier who had too many beers ashore, Sir."
"Deal with him in the morning. Let me know if you wish to charge him."
"Yes, Sir. Goodnight."
When they were alone Sergeant Wilks came up to him. "What shall I do with this, Sir?" He opened his hand which held a folded flick knife.
" Er.. I don't know. Have no use for it myself. Perhaps over the side?"
Sergeant Wilks smiled and nodded. "Well handled, Sir. Those Scots are one big family. They back each other up when times are hard, live and die together. You'll see; those boys will be on the lookout in Korea to see how they can return the compliment."
They took their leave of each other for two more hours until the next ship's tour started. Hopefully it would turn out to be a little less exciting.
With no further adventures that night, James went down to the cells at 0600 hours. "On yer feet, Soldier," shouted the MP at the rather forlorn figure sitting on a bare mattress. The soldier stood straight, with his arms at his sides:
"Name, rank, number and regiment, Soldier," shouted the MP.
"McArdle, Hamish, Rifleman, 2744681, The Black Watch," whispered the soldier.
"I can't hear you, soldier. Shout it so that the officer can hear you." The soldier delivered the details in a slightly louder voice.
"Would you leave me with the prisoner for a moment, Corporal?" asked James of the MP.
"Certainly, Sir. Call me when you want to leave the cell," and he left.
James introduced himself to the soldier, "I am Lieutenant Seaton, Royal Signals. I have been in the army two years, training in England. Just as for you, this is my first trip overseas. Sit down, Rifleman McArdle, on the bed, here next to me. Do you smoke?"
"Yes, I do, Sir, but my mouth is like the inside of... Oh, I shouldn't say that to an officer!"
"Well, you can, because I do when I have a hangover. How many bottles of beer did you have?"
"We were drinking a dark local brew in Colombo, maybe a dozen bottles and I had my two bottles of brown ale in the ship's bar."
"Is that more than you normally drink, when you are back in Glasgow?"
"Yes, Sir. About four is my limit."
"How old are you and how long have you been in the army?" "I'm eighteen and a quarter. I joined the army six months ago
at the Perth headquarters and I was just old enough to sail with the
regiment to Korea."
"What about your family in Glasgow?"
"We lived in the Gorbals, Sir. Da was out of work. He was in the dockyard but got sacked. He signed on for the dole several years ago and he's still out of work. Ma had six other children, all younger than me. She had a few small jobs like house cleaning, making clothes and making biscuits to add to Da's dole money. I left school at sixteen, couldn't get a job and lived on the streets with the gangs. It was a dead cert that I would come up against the police at some time or other, and I did. Three of us were caught for house-breaking. The police offered a deal that if I made a confession and joined the army, I'd avoid going to prison. So here I am. I love the army and the regiment. I have some great mates and the food is good."
"What do feel about going to the war in Korea?" asked James.
"It's just another part of the job we're trained to do. We don't think about dying but dream a lot about winning and coming out on top."
"Well, you've lost your flick-knife and I hope that you never go for an officer like that again. You can get shot at dawn for doing that in a war zone. We'll both forget last night and we'll both go on to Korea where our paths may cross again. Off you go, back to your boys. Good luck, Rifleman," James said, holding out his hand.
McArdle shook his hand and stuttered his thanks. "Corporal, open the cell."
The MP unlocked the cell door with a questioning look to James. "Riflemen McArdle will rejoin his unit now and I will sign the discharge book."
The troopship ploughed its way through the Indian Ocean and into the Malacca Straits between Malaya and Sumatra, eventually anchoring in the bustling harbour of Singapore. There were no visits ashore by those sailing on, and troops and families disembarking were taken off by tenders.
Covering about 350 miles a day, the troopship Empire Orwell sailed past the Philippines, past Taiwan and on to Hong Kong, where more British troops were embarked for the journey to Korea. Nearly a month after leaving Southampton, it arrived at Pusan, Korea's south coast port, where the boat was nearly emptied of its passengers. Only a few remained board to take the last leg to Japan, from where the Korean campaign was administered and supplied.
To those landing at Pusan, confusion appeared to reign everywhere but transport officers were on hand to interpret written orders and find transport for soldiers so that they could join up with their regiments.
Later, after the horrors of the Korea war, most of the passengers would remember the journey out as fairly pleasurable and the troopship even with fondness. Arrival at Pusan would be remembered as the point where they entered the war zone and started their allotted year of Korean service.
For most, they would return a year later to England as they came, on a troopship. For some, there would be a return by air ambulance, to receive major operations and probably discharge from the army. And a few would remain, buried in Korean soil.
James Seaton met the Black Watch several times in the course of laying telephone lines up to the front lines. On one occasion, he encountered Hamish McArdle in a front line bunker as they both took shelter from enemy shelling. James would long remember McArdle's cheery face as he was offered a cup of char laced with whisky as the shells flew overhead.
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