GOING HOME – and THE INDIAN MUTINY!
IT was from Coimbatore Camp in India that I started the return journey to the UK. Our route home would be via the city of Madras and then onwards by train to the transit camp at Deolali near Bombay, which was a three day journey.
At each station along the way we stopped for half an hour or more and drinks and food could be bought from the many refreshment sellers. It was even possible for a cooked meal to be bought. These food sellers were very efficient in servicing the whole train and could remember what had been ordered and where you were located in the carriage!
The camp at Deolali was largely unchanged from the previous yeae and with no special duties to perform except that, as a sergeant, I was asked a few times to deliver military correspondence going by train overnight to various other camps. This relatively ‘easy life’ was short-lived, when notification of departure to the UK was announced with an expected four week sea crossing. The ship was fairly small for a troop ship at only 9,000 tons and, together with about a hundred other soldiers, I marched through Bombay to go on board. I was at last on my way home.
As we had all served in the forces on active duty for many years in different theatres of war we were expecting a fairly relaxing voyage home, but this was not to be. The ship was also transporting 2000 Italian prisoners-of-war back to Naples and we had to undertake guard duty of 24 hours on and 24 hours off. The accommodation for the 100 or so soldiers was one deck down at the stern of the ship and no space had been allocated for them on the upper deck.
The ship was also carrying civilians who had been resident in India and were also returning to the UK. They were accomodated in cabins and had the use of the main promenade deck.
Due to the lack of space provided to the returning troops we made a formal protest about the cramped conditions – and we were eventually given an area of the deck for our use. However – it seemed in retaliation to our protest – we were ordered to lay out our full kit for inspection, and, as you might imagine, this was not appreciated!
As we waited for this kit inspection to take place the assembled men felt that the the delay was deliberate and began to voice their disapproval, banging their cutlery on the mess tables. It wasn’t long before some officers appeared and caautioned me that, as a Sergeant, I was responsible for keeping order and that I would have to report to the ship’s Captain.
In fact I saw the ship’s Purser, who informed me that I could be charged with mutiny, but considering the cirumstances I would not be – thanks a bunch!
When our ship eventually docked at Southampton we were met by newspaper reporters who had got wind of the alleged ‘mutiny’ but nothing further came of it.
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