We set sail from Naples harbour, and headed south for North Africa. Before we came into view of the coastline, we ran into a swarm of locusts, which must have been blown off course. The sea was covered with them, and on deck they snapped and crackled underfoot.
Our disembarkation point was Djidjelli, a small port on the east side of Algiers. Transport took us out to a small camp about 2 miles from the town, and we were given tents in which to live. The camp had been vacated by its previous occupants but in each tent they had left their beds which consisted of pieces of wood driven into the ground and stretched across the top was a Summerfield tracking. This tracking was like reinforces wire netting which was put down on beaches to stop vehicles sinking into the soft sand. They made comfortable beds, and it was a comfort to get above ground level, on which to rest.
After a few days I took a walk into Djidelli, but it was a small town and there wasn’t much to be seen, so I went into a barber’s for a haircut. I asked for a short back and sides, and the old Frenchman eventually understood, as he had a smattering of English, and I remembered some of my schoolboy French. He asked me where I had served, and when I told him I had just come back from Italy, he told me that his son was in Italy fighting with the Free French forces. He then told me that he was looking after his grandson and his daughter-in-law while his son was away.
I had a few squares of chocolate of my ration left which I had meant to eat on my way back into the camp. I gave them to him for his grandson and the old chap was quite overcome, as chocolate was very hard to come by. He then told me that he was shutting shop soon, and that he would be delighted if I would stay and have tea with his family. The house was over the shop, and he took me up to meet his wife, and grandson. His daughter-in-law was out at work somewhere, and I didn’t meet her.
The meal was bread, with salad, and cheese, with wine, and it made a nice change from our usual fare. He invited me to come back and visit him the next time I was in town, and I went on my way back to the camp, thinking I had done a little bit towards the Entente Cordiale.
My rank had been upgraded from ordinary telegraphist to telegraphist at Naples, and we were told now to get into the Naval barracks at Algiers and take the exam for leading telegraphist. When we got into the barracks one of the petty officers told us that those who passed for the leading rank were to be sent out to the far east to fight the Japs. I obtained sufficient marks in the exam to get the leasing telegraphist grade, but I declined the offer with thanks, and took the telegraphist trained operator grade which meant getting an additional star on the telegraphists badge, instead of two which it would have been for the Leading Tel’s grade. I preferred to go back home instead of going out further east, even at the expense of promotion.
My pal A.J. Godfrey passed the test for Leading Signalman, and some time later he was instructed to get out to the local airport, and catch a plane to take him further east. He was limited with his weight of luggage, and gave me his boot brushes to reduce his amount. These were very good brushes and are still in use more than forty years on. They have his name stamped on them so they have been good souvenirs.
After the exams were completed, we were allowed out of the Algiers barracks to have a look around the place, but were warned not to enter the kasbah (the native quarter). A few of the lads did, and when they came back to camp, they told us stories of exceptional things a woman had done with bottles, and with a mule, in a club they had visited. We saw one of the official red lamp premises, and the women were sat on a bench just inside the door which was open, as it was very hot. They had on so much makeup plastered on their faces it would have been difficult to identify their features. We carried on to the bazaars, where everything was done by haggling over the price, but we didn’t get very much as we didn’t know how we were going to be fixed for transport in the future.
A few days after the trip to Algiers we were all turned out of our tents, and they were all searched for an officer’s missing bedroll. It was never found, and it was believed that Arabs must have sneaked in, and out with it, although how they did it was a mystery, as the camp had a guard at the gate, and the perimeter fence, which did not appear to be cut anywhere, was continually patrolled.
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