OVERSEAS WE GO - DRAFT 4489

We had to go through the same old clearance procedure again and

received our travel warrants.  It was now June 8th and we were given pay to last us to July 20th, eight pounds four shillings, [about $41].  Then we made a rush for the train.  We just managed to catch  the bus to town.  The bus driver made a detour to pick up some WAAFs and that made us

later still.  Our tickets had been made out for Inverugie to London.  We had to pay our own way to Inverugie.  The stationmaster at Peterhead phoned through to Inverugie and asked to have our tickets made out to Kings Cross Station, London.

When we got to Inverugie our tickets had been made out for the wrong place, so we had to hand in our travel warrants at Aberdeen.  When we got to Aberdeen the guard on the gate made out little bills for us such as those made out for anyone who is caught travelling on the train

without a ticket and is forced to pay on the spot.  All the way to London, every conductor who punched our tickets gave us a funny look.  

Mike Jacobs had to go and make pals with a guy who was drunk, and brought him into our compartment, which was already crowded.  It made our trip damned uncomfortable for the night.

We arrived in London about 8 a.m. and after arranging to meet in Euston Station at 2:15 p.m. on Thursday, June 11th, we parted.  I went out to my Aunt Eva's [Lister], in Cockfosters to spend a couple of nice days there and then on the 11th I caught the underground and went to

Euston Station.  Our warrants told us our train left at  3 p.m., but when we got to the station we learned the train was departing at 2:45 p.m.  I found Mike, and met his mom and dad who were there, but we couldn't find Len Brown.  He arrived at the last minute and we made a mad dash for the train and just caught it.  We all seemed to have an assortment of sandwiches from our various families, so put them on a little table between us and helped ourselves.  What a feed!

We arrived in Liverpool about 8 p.m. and found we were not the only ones bound for overseas.  There were dozens and dozens of guys just like us, in from various camps and all burdened with kitbags.  An old boy on the station with a large flat-deck sort of trolley was soon beside us and telling us to load all of our kitbags on to it.  We stacked them like cordwood.  It was piled high.  Then he started pulling it, with some of us pushing and off we went in the direction of the underground station. We had to take this train to a camp out of town named West Kirby.  Here we would be outfitted for overseas.

As we walked along with him, about 30 of us, he was telling us all of the times of the trains, coming and going.  We got our gear safely stored on the train and then we had time to take a walk around Liverpool.  Apparently this train was waiting for many more like us to check in,

before it pulled out for the camp.

We went into a place called The Services Club and sat at a table.  Two very nice young ladies came and asked us for our order.  We got talking to them quite freely and it was a treat to hear them speaking English instead of the Scottish we had been hearing at Peterhead.  One of them was very nice and I was really looking forward to coming in to Liverpool while we were at West Kirby.  She said she would go skating with me at the Palace.  

When we arrived in the station at West Kirby [near Liverpool], one of the SP's [Military Police], there led us all into a big hall just across the street.  We waited here while someone phoned for a transport.   When it arrived we were packed in, kit and all, like a bunch of sardines.  About 15 minutes later we arrived at our camp.  What a camp.  Spread out all over the place.  HUGE!  It was used entirely for overseas postings.  No aircraft or anything of that sort here.  Strictly for personnel.   We went through the regular routine of checking in and being assigned places to sleep and

where to eat etc.  It was well after midnight before we got into bed.  We were all placed into tents.  At this point Len Brown and Mike Jacobs went into one tent and I went into another with five other guys, one an Australian. All washing and shaving was done out in the open.  It rained a lot while we were here and that added to our misery.  We were just marking time waiting for a ship.  We did a lot of useless parades in full kit, just to have our names called out, and to which we would answer, [in my case],  "SIR! STOFER, 801."  The 801 was the last three numbers of my service number.  Food here was not too good, but better than nothing and we all tucked it away to fill the empty spaces in our groaning tummies.

One day we went on a parade and were issued with tropical kit.  It was sure handed out quickly, and for once the RAF seemed quite organized.  

On June 15, 1942 we got our orders and formed up in parade.  We were told we were Draft # 4489.  Apparently we were going to march from the camp to the docks.  Nothing like advertising who, and how many were going overseas. 

 Len Brown got up to his tricks again, shouting out "Lead on in front," and the whole 600 started to march off.  We had to yell like hell to make them stop.   Eventually someone who was really in charge of the unit, had us on the move.  We were further surprised when after marching for some time we stopped at a group of lorries.  Here we boarded and as we got on we were each given a card with a number and told to hand it in as we boarded the ship.  Once more we were packed in like sardines.

The lorries wound their way up one street and down another until we arrived at a tube station [Underground], at West Kirby, where a train was waiting for us.  Here we were crammed into coaches.  We were sweating and feeling mighty uncomfortable by now, what with wearing our greatcoats with full kit and carrying a heavy kitbag on our shoulder.  Last winter's snow at Peterhead would be welcome about now.