THE SURPRISING SISTERS AND GEN. SMUTZ' SECRETARY

We entered a very luxurious apartment with a fantastic view of the

ocean and beach below. "Have a seat and make yourself comfortable," they said, almost in unison, big smiles and flashing white teeth. "We'll just get us something to drink."  They left and went to another part of the large suite.  WELL! Trev and I gave each other knowing looks and nudges, as if to say, 'Mmm, this is going to be great,' with visions of the young ladies returning clad only in kimonos, and bearing martinis.  [not that we'd know what to do]. Then to our surprise, an older women appeared.  Older that is in relation to the young ladies.  All of 40.  She too was very attractive, and one could easily have assumed I suppose, that she was "the Madam".   However, before she had time to speak to us, the two young ladies reappeared, dressed the same as they had left us, but bearing a tray of sandwiches and cakes, and at the same time saying, "Oh mother, these are two of the young airmen who have just come in from England."   While we were gasping, "mother" shook our hands, welcoming us, and saying she would check the tea kettle and then left.  Conversation that followed revealed to us that the young ladies, Yvonne & Margaret Hamilton, in their mid-teens, and looking 20ish, were sisters.   It was a very common practice in South Africa for all the inhabitants to warmly welcome all servicemen to their country and take them home to tea.  Mrs. Hamilton took our home addresses.   It was apparently the practice for South African hosts to notify the serviceman's family that they had seen him and he was well. Trevor and I of course had fallen "madly in love" with both and/or either of them at first sight, and were now rather shattered that we were just part of an Allied effort to make the troops feel at home.  I can't recall how the rest of the day went, except that we obviously left at some point, and also quite obviously did not see them again, or else I am sure I would have more to say on this subject. 

Shortly thereafter, in one of the many servicemen's canteens,  I met a girl about my own age, from Victoria who had lived in South Africa for five years.  She was Diedre Diespecker.  I went out to her home for a meal.  Her uncle was Dick Diespecker a regular news broadcaster,

connected with the media in Vancouver.

Inevitably the order came through one day that we were on the move again.  Once again we were on the train and heading for the docks, where we boarded the 23,000 ton Oronsay.  

That same day we left Durban and were once more on our way,  out into 

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the wide, wide ocean and the return of the terrific sea swells.  On the first day nearly everyone aboard was terribly sick.  Surprisingly we learned our destination was Cape Town.  Seemed like we were going the wrong way.  This was very exciting, as by this time the attempted landing at Dieppe on the French coast had taken place, [not to be confused with THE invasion], and quite naturally we thought of a possible invasion of the continent and the need for us to be back in the UK. 

On a Saturday morning we anchored in the harbour off of Cape Town.  It was not until 4 p.m. on the Saturday that we actually docked.  We were advised that we would live aboard the Oronsay for a few days until another ship was ready for us to board and take us to the Far East.

[So much for our thoughts of the invasion of Europe]. We had three whole days to ourselves.   One of the first things we noticed was just outside the gates of the dock area, generous and patriotic residents of the city had lined up their cars and stood beside them to greet us as we left the ship. The cars would fill up and be off to see the sights.  Many would also be taken home to lunch or dinner. Many a story of such adventures were told from hammock to hammock aboard ship in the evening as everyone related their day out with very sociable South Africans. 

Those servicemen who elected to go somewhere on their own headed for the Salvation Army canteens and one in particular, St. Andrews.  We also went to the bus station and took a trip up to Table Mountain to see the sights.  Once whilst walking along the street a Canadian nurse on spotting the CANADA patch on my shoulder came up to speak to me.  She was very, very home-sick and told me she was from Prince Edward Island.  I wonder where she is today? On another occasion while walking with Eric Coomber and Mike Jacobs, and I think Trevor Clist, a very large luxurious car, similar, but smaller than today's limo, pulled alongside us.  The driver, very dapper-looking asked if we would like to see the sights.  We noticed little flags sticking up from the edge of the front fenders, but soon forgot about them, thinking the dapper driver had tiddlied up his car a bit.  We were taken on a 40-mile drive, while our driver explained various sights to us as we wound up down and around the winding coastal road.  There were lovely views of sea and crashing surf hundreds of feet below. It turned out that our driver's name was Chapman.  Chapman Peak in South Africa is named after him.  He was secretary to the office of General Jan Christiaan Smutz who was Prime Minister of South Africa during World War Two, and until 1948.