fraserpakes'memoirspartthreefarewelltobe
Fraser Pakes' Memoirs Part Three
January 1957: A couple of events had started off the new year. We had our farewell parade for the Brigadier who is going home in a couple of weeks time. It was a great success and we got a day off for it as it was so good. (Photo left: Our bosses 'A' Company 1DCLI, CSM & Officers)
Also, We had a scheme the other night from 8 o’clock to 10 as a practice for hurricane relief. All the local forces, amateur radio society, Hurricane Relief Society, the police were there. (Photo right: Ready for the scheme) I had to sit on the top of a tower on top of a hill sitting in the pouring rain, with thunder and lightening all around, sipping some cook house tea and big sandwiches and treading on cockroaches. Afterwards I was invited to the home of a Signals Station operator for some supper and I saw American TV for the first time. Personnel were always coming and going at Prospect and I reported that, I saw a draft go home on demob the other day. Its all very sad really when you’ve lived with them for a year, to say goodbye, knowing that you will, in all probability, never see them again. However when some went, others came in and in my next letter (5 Feb 1957) I noted, We had some people from Jamaica the other day to bring up our strength. they included two people from Truro: a Rowe from Higher Moresk and a boy called Thomas from St Clement.
(Photo left: the road out of Prospect) As far as the DCLI leaving the Bermuda, I can give you no exact date for our coming home yet and there is no sign of anything happening yet for a while. but I was most interested to read that the English people were being informed that the famed DCLI were at last coming home. Meanwhile another of my activities was nearing an end Major Houlton Hart (I discovered the other day that he only recently changed his name from plain Hart to Houlton Hart by deed poll (typical of him I thought) goes back to England on 12th February so I don’t know whether I shall carry on doing it (baby-sitting) for the new Adjutant or not. Our Company Commander (Photo left: Major A J 'Tony" Marsh, DSO, SAS) was being kept busy for, On the Bermuda radio the other night our Coy Commander, Major Marsh appeared on the air for 1/4 hour for a talk on sporting experiences. Here is one of the bits, they were talking at the time about kudu shooting in British Somaliland (sounds sort of Goon Show-ish): Maj. Marsh “You must understand that the jungle there is very flat and it is (Interviewer interrupts) “Excuse me interrupting you a minute Tony, but I suppose it is like one of those Somerset Maugham jungles - very green and, Major Marsh “No not really, well we used to ...” After that Major Marsh got more and more vague as he went on talking about sport in Cyprus Major Marsh “Yes I served in Cyprus for one year” Interviewer “Well Tony I suppose you must have vivid memories of sport there Major Marsh “Well to tell you the truth I don’t really recall seeing any er er er er er cycling er er er yes of course I’m not very interested in that er er er football was played I think er er er er. . .” etc. He IS a very good person and we all here like him and respect him very much, and it was all rather good and I’m looking forward to to hearing him again in a few days time. While on the subject of the media, I explained they have recently legalised TV on the island and there are TV sets for sale in every shop now.
14th February ‘57: As you know by now, there is a Big Two conference on soon here. Of course there are big ‘flaps’ on now. We have even had to complete a nominal roll of everyone in the Coy, showing especially, place of birth, for security reasons. The War Office will be checking on everyone’s background. I thought about
putting my place of birth as ‘Moscow’. I bet I’d be out of Bermuda in a week. The timing would have been right as there was no more baby-sitting now, Major Hart went back to England on Monday, for the 13 days before he went I baby-sat every night and it really wore me out. The tallest man in the British Army had arrived around this time and I had some information on him for my parents: This tall man isn’t at least awkward with his height, he’s big as well. His hands are colossal. He was in the Guards but had to leave it as he was just too tall when he had his bearskin on it would make him 7’ 6” !!!
21 February ‘57: Meanwhile there was further speculation about the date the DCLI would be leaving Bermuda: The Brigadier who has recently arrived to supervise the Tattoo for this year reckons the Company won’t leave until June 22nd so the dates seem to alter all the time. What we did know for sure was that, Of course we have the Big Two Conference here soon, so I expect the Guard practices will start soon, street lining as well. In many ways our ‘real’ work on the Island could be described as practicing for Guards of Honour Parades followed by the Guard of Honour/Parade itself, followed by practices for the next Guard of Honour/Parade, followed by the actual Guard of Honour/Parade, followed by more practices.
In between times I was stuck in Company Office where at least I get on tremendously well with the CSM. He sits in the office next to ours and there is a hatch in the wall where the telephone stands. My desk is so situated thatwhen sitting down I can see him sitting at his desk. He smokes a pipe all day long and talks of gardening and fishing . He finishes in the Army soon and is quite demob happy. He sings all day long and mutters to himself just loud enough for me to hear him and then he looks through the hatch to see if I’m laughing! (Photo above right: CSM 'Smokey’ Hallett) He wanders around most of the day asking me what he can do. He is the most shrewd man I’ve ever seen and knows what everyone is doing when he isn’t around! He said to me one afternoon at about 3 o’clock “Well I suppose you’re waiting for me to go so you can go and lie on your bed when I’m round the corner”. Even if I had wanted to, I certainly would not have had time that week. I had been busy with office work as this weekend 16 people leave here for the UK for demob and a further 15 on the 2nd of March. then there are only the 27th, 28th, and 29th intakes to be demobbed before my intake, the 30th, is demobbed.
(Postcard & photos lower left: The Queen of Bermuda - a frequent backdrop for our parades)March 2nd 1957: Good news to begin the letter: Hope you’ve seen the change of the rank (Corporal) on the back of the envelope; hope I don’t lose it before I write again. Also I was to get out of the Office for a time because We had to start our annual P.E tests and I had of course been sitting in an office for a year. First we had to climb up a rope hanging from a tree and then get across another to an adjoining tree and then slide down. All this with battle order, steel helmet and a rifle dangling from the shoulder. I just managed to do it, all the time thinking of a person who did it last year, who fell flat on his back, fractured his spine in three places, and was flown home to hospital. Next we had to get over a 10’ wall and then jump a wide pit. Finally we had to carry, fireman fashion, a person with battle order, steel helmet and rifle, 220 yards in 2 1/2 minutes. Now the last two highly entertaining items yet to be completed are a two mile run in battle order and a 9 mile route march. Heigh Ho! While awaiting that a more restful activity continued on; I am finishing this letter while baby-sitting for the new Adjutant. He lives in the same place as Major Hart had, so I feel now as though he is in my house. In an old copy of ‘Queen’ I saw their wedding picture placed among some viscounts and things. He has a Great Dane who can eat off the kitchen table without getting on a chair - I found that out when I left some toast on the table.
March 9th 1957: The troopship called here on Thursday to drop off the band and bugles for the Big Two Conference Guards. I was lucky enough to be one of those going out to the ship to welcome them (it was the ‘Dilwaya’ just back from the Middle East). Most of my intake (the 30th) were on board - John Pedlar, and of course Luke. They all looked very brown, in fact the ones from Belize looked almost black. you ought to have seen the number of Jamaican and Chinese girls on board: Cornwall will be home to them as most of the boys marrying them come from Cornwall. We had one officer detached to us - guess who - Ian Shrimpton from St Agnes. It is terribly embarrassing after being at school for 5 years with someone, in the same form and prefects together, to have to stand up to him and call him ‘sir’. There was no difficulty of this sort with another person who continued to help us so much on the Island. I had sung his praises in earlier letters and continued here. There is a wonderful padre who although not attached to the Army does everything for us, gives film shows during the ‘Padre’s Hour’, arranges bus trips etc. He was a professional footballer at one time. He goes to the prisons and all the other places on the island to help people. Altogether I think he is the finest man on the Island. He lost his wife not so long ago just after they returned from England from holding the position of Chaplain to the King. He says “Come down any time fellows” He gave a few of us complete run of his house, his LPs, books, food. We felt we had a home on the island.
March 10+1957: (Photos left Guardroom Prospect) I am writing this letter in the Guardroom. I’m not in nick but in fact L/Corporal i/c Relief of Detachment Quarter Guard. I’ve been in 18 months now and this is the first time I’ve been caught for Guard. I had also been caught for another ‘Guard’; We have had the Guard of Honour for President Eisenhower and Prime Minister Macmillan who passed inches from my nose. It was a Royal Guard of Honour of 100 men with the band and bugles and the Queen’s Colour on parade. After the inspection we had a march past through Hamilton amid hundreds of people lining the streets. I was anxious to let my parents know that in the Page 10 London Evening Standard, Randolph Churchill had written,”I do wish the President had seen the DCLI march off the parade green and down the main street. I have never seen British troops march so smartly and so proudly since the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in the Victory Parade at Tunis” (Newspaper cutting below right: Post - Big Two Conference) It was proving to be a regular feast of parades! We have another Guard of Honour on Monday for the Prime Minister of Canada.
19th April 1957: Good and bad news to begin this letter We are once again in KD, so all the long hours of pressing and starching are upon me once again. Of course the latest prediction for the DCLI departure from Bermuda had to be mentioned. We know now we definitely will not leave Bermuda 'til after the end of May (correct), we shall most probably do another Tattoo now (not correct) so that will pass the time quickly. We were obviously entering a time warp of sorts where time stood still. We were close to leaving, but when exactly? (Photo left: DCLI Band - Post Big Two Conference activity) The result was at the moment no one does anything ‘Smokey’ our CSM doesn’t do anything, he wanders off and sits on the edge of the square and watches the basketball. All the officers go on fishing trips. The Colour Sergeant spends all day sitting at his desk firing elastic bands at everyone; then he wrestles with one of the clerks. The other day he came in and said “Is Captain Case in this afternoon ? (he was Commanding Officer for a time) I said “No” So he said “Oh well see you tomorrow, I’m going to bed for the afternoon“ !
May 1957: I get 3/6 a week for my tape so it won’t be any loss when I get home. We still don’t know when we will be leaving but I suspect it will be in July. Wrong again! and the lethargy continued I have never seen our Company go so idle as it is these days. The Sergeant Major disappears off home every odd hour and there are games every afternoon. Everyone is getting fed up waiting to leave. Fortunately there was some interesting things happening around the place. For instance, Our Colour Sergeant got out of bed went outside the door on to the verandah to speak to someone and heard the key fall on the inside of the door. He picked up a stone and threw it at a window pane nearest the latch of the window, but hit another pane. On the second try he hit the right pane and then found the latch was undone anyhow ! He hardly ever works and spends his time riding around the camp on a decrepit old motor bike. From this point on there appear to be no further letters home from me - perhaps they were mislaid. I certainly would have written about a new experience that happened to me in late May. At that time an NCO was due for court-martial and it was my unenviable task to close-march him everywhere. When finally there was a firm date for the departure, there was a last flurry of buying stuff to take
home: clothes, LPs, more postcards, more photographs. My last minute buys which I have not worn in 50 years but have squirrelled away were a cummerbund/bow tie set(!) and a Mexican shirt. (Photos left: 'maya de mexico shirt and cummerbund from Trimingham's Hamilton) Those with girlfriends on the Island said their last ‘Goodbyes’. At the beginning of June (strange that of all dates, I do not have a record of that one but it was between June 1 and June 5th!) we finally moved out, with final sad farewells to the numerous dogs and cats that had been our constant companions at the Garrison. (Image above right: catalogue page from 'The English Sports Shop" Front St, Hamilton)
(Photo left: Heading out of Prospect for the last time ) ‘A’ Company had its final march along Front Street. it would have been great to have had the Band with us but they had had their last march down Front Street earlier in the year. Then we boarded the T.S.S. Captain Cook. During the sailing to Scotland it had been planned that there would be formal activities for the men every day on the ship. That idea quickly collapsed once the ship set sail. Our days were marked by very good meals and a general lolling about on deck. Finally we sailed up the Clyde to Glasgow where we disembarked. Once on the quay we were lined up and given directives as to what was to follow. Among these was one telling us to remove our Bermuda insignia from our BD sleeve. The removal of those little badges symbolised in a very real way that the D.C.L.I.’s tour of duty on the Island was over.
Postscript: Reading through my letter again after fifty years confirmed for me what I have remembered through the years and what I had forgotten. For instance I always remembered that drinking was an important part of life on Bermuda. It was taken as a feature of British Colonial life. I had forgotten how much it figured in my earlier letters! Of course, the degree to which the servicemen drank, varied tremendously from the virtual teetotal (yes we had them) to the virtual alcoholic. Where the servicemen had their drinks varied from those who went for the luxury hotel/club settings to those who preferred the rough-and-tough Hamilton bars where ladies-of-the-night (with colourful names such as Mocking Bird and Monkey Face) operated.
The extremes of alcoholic behaviour were great fodder for my letters but unfortunately gave an exaggerated view of what was happening in reality. The majority simply went out for a few drinks in the evenings, enjoyed themselves, and returned uneventfully to Prospect. For myself , I think at the back of it all was the fact that, as I said in one letter, Age doesn’t matter in the Army although I often feel pleased when we are referred to as “you men”. I suppose it was so quick a change from school to army; from schoolboy to soldier. People like myself, who had come straight from school, and were consequently doing most of their N.S. while they were still teenagers, found the change was quick and called for quick adjustment. Alcohol was still a new experience for many and given also the influences of older servicemen in the Garrison, was something to be explored. The hotels and clubs with their cocktail lounges, luxurious surroundings, and affordable liquor, were a complete contrast to the starkness of the barrack rooms. Sitting in them allowed me to forget for a short time why we were in Bermuda. It was also getting us away from a big aspect of life at Prospect - the monotony of daily life and consequent boredom. As I wrote in one letter, Each Sunday when I go out to Coral Beach for the day I feel depressed to think how free I am for that one day but that I will soon be back in camp again. As Army barracks go this is fine really but it is the absolute routine and the consequent monotony of each day that gets me down. I could tell you to practically the minute what I do from the time I get out of bed to the time of Muster parade. This was exacerbated by the fact that, the disadvantage of Bermuda is its smallness. Everywhere you go you still see DCLI people. When going to the beaches, the shops, the hotel bars had been done, there was precious little else of interest for young service men in the ‘50s.
(Right: A postcard view of Bermuda - nearly all of it!) One little guide book could only list the Crystal Caves and Leamington Caves and the Government Aquarium , as places of interest to see. For the rest the book was filled with details of shopping opportunities and sports one could do on the Island.
(Brochure left below: Apparently not enough for many DCLI!) I, as a number of others, had been around the entire set of Islands in the first week or so. The saving grace in all of this were the beaches. (Photo right: Mangrove Bay) I spent as much time there as I could - swimming, sunbathing, walking around. I had forgotten that so much of the daily life was boring and routine. The passing of time had left only memories of those guards of honour, parades and the like.
However overall, I’m afraid my letters tend to support the scurrilous remarks made by less fortunate servicemen elsewhere, that ‘A’ Company, 1D.C.L.I spent their time either parading around like toy soldiers or playing with their bucket and spades on the beaches! Early on I had written, We all agree its (Bermuda) a wonderful place to be if you’ve got lots of money but there’s nothing really much for the National Serviceman. While in Bermuda I’d often talked with others about how it would be to live there permanently. Some really wanted to and were actively looking for jobs there. Others wanted to get back to the UK as fast as they could, and never really enjoyed what Bermuda could offer.
(Photos left and right and below: photos for home). In the intervening years since my time in Bermuda, and as the past began to mellow more and more and the memories of the day to day life in the garrison receded, I’ve often thought that I really had not wanted to leave Bermuda. Reading the letters again I see now that I was always quite anxious to get back to the UK, counting the days like everyone else.
Yet Bermuda has always remained in my memory and I see it still vividly in my mind’s eye - the brilliant white houses, the pink sand beaches, the ever-blue skies and seas, and the scent of lilies and cedar. I’m happy I was there.
I‘m happy in reflection too, about the last months of my National Service.After a lengthy trip on the train from Glasgow to Bodmin I found myself onceagain back in Victoria Barracks. But we were now ‘old’ soldiers and were able
to observe the new intake there with a detached smugness and a little pity
for the new recruits. Our stay there was uneventful and we were soon all on embarkation leave again before leaving for: Osnabruck, Germany (Photos left: Osnabruck today - photos courtesy of my sister-in-law, Jean Pakes) (Below right: Osnabruck then - 1957)
?? July 1957
23176144 Cpl Pakes,
HQ Pl. ‘A’ Coy
1/DCLI
British Forces Post Office 36.
My first letter home from Osnabruck detailed a far different journey from that travelled to Bermuda. Here at last after the worst journey of my life. We had Reveille at 4.15 in the morning, paraded at 5 o’clock and were at the station by 5.30. We had to march a distance carrying our own cases, of course we had to wait over one hour at Bodmin Road before our train drew in (special train). It really was overcrowded with kit bags and cases and full small packs and rifles and I had a Sten. We sat in that train from 6.30 'til 5.30 in the evening. We went to Kensington and then on to Harwich. We had breakfast and lunch on the train and tea at Harwich. (Postcard right: SS Vienna) We went on board the SS Vienna at 8.30 in the evening. This was the worst part of the trip, the deck we were on was crammed tight with bunks head to feet, 3' high. It was hot and no air shafts and no room. We slept somehow and arrived at the Hook of Holland at 6.30 in the morning. Then we had to carry all our stuff up the three flights and down the steep gangplank, Phew! We had breakfast in the reception depot and changed our money. Then we started loading luggage into the railway trucks which are on the quay. It started raining and we got soaked. Then we had to take all our kit again and make for the station, we staggered on to the wonderful diesel train. Once on there it was easier and we saw all the Dutch scenery as we went through the country. We arrived at the German frontier at about 2 o’clock. Osnabruck is just inside the border and the train reached there about 2.30 . the barracks - a wonderful place built by the German army. No large blocks just long low bungalow efforts. They are all spread out and trees are everywhere. We sleep 4 to a room with the largest single beds I’ve ever seen - with bedspreads ! We have in our block our own showers, baths etc we even have a room for washing clothes and to cap it all a lounge. The Germans certainly had the right idea.
?? August 1957 As you can see I have been transferred from ‘A’ Coy to HQ Coy and am now in the Battalion Orderly Room which is the central office. Today I am Duty Clerk which entails staying in the office day and night except when relieved for meals. The best thing happened today when I wrote out the details in my own Release Book - that shows I haven’t long now.
(Photos left: Barracks above, Orderly Room below)
My hope in being in Germany was to be able to counter the scurrilous accusations from discontented and envious NS friends posted elsewhere, that I had been strictly a “bucket and spade and beach towel serviceman”! Here surely in Germany, synonymous with maneuvers, live ammunition, mud etc - I would be able to redeem myself. Alas! it was not to be. Firstly, because I was going to be finished my service in September, my superiors in the office kept on saying “It’s not worth making him work on this matter as he hasn’t very long to do”. Consequently instead of life in the trenches I found myself restricted to trite comments in my few letters home at this time, such as the Army cinema is a wonderful place - a proper cinema with civilian ushers, a cinemascope screen and numbered tickets so that you don’t have to queue. My tour of duty in Germany was turning into a tour of pleasure! Firstly, a trip to the site of the Mohne dam, which had been the object of the ‘Dam Busters’ visit in the War.
(Postcard right: “Der Schone Mohnesee”) (Photo left: our ‘dam busting’ trip) I was then able to inform my parents that I was off with the boys on a long bus trip to the Nurburgring to see the German Grand Prix (Photo lower left: Our tour bus) Postcard lower right: - Nurburgring)
Now giving in to this style of life altogether we then took another bus to the Belgian Grand Prix Belgian Grand Prix 1957 Belgian Grand Prix Exhausted by these outings, as well as shopping in Osnabruck and local sight-seeing I was glad when the time for my return to the UK approached. In early September I left Osnabruck and returned, with the 30th Intake, to England and Victoria Barracks, Bodmin. I was demobbed on 14th September 1957 and accompanied by my going-away present from the Army, my discharge papers, returned to my home in Truro, Cornwall. (Photo left: my vantage point for the Belgian Grand Prix - Main entrance right)
(Photo lower left: DCLI Report Card)
Once there I was reunited with Marie, who was then attending Falmouth Art School. We were to have only a short time together as I was planning to go to find work in London. Once there and being interested in the clothing world I joined the ‘rag trade’ for a year or two. Marie herself came to London at that time to continue her art studies. For a brief time we were able to be see each other again, but then we drifted apart. Becoming restless and having had my appetite whetted for travel after Bermuda and Germany, I joined B.O.A.C as an air steward. (Photo left: Air steward days) (Photo right: Rag Trade days - FP on left)
For a couple of years I found myself on trips to Australia, Hong Kong, the U.S., East and West Africa, and the near East. (sadly not Bermuda again). An abrupt ending to my BOAC career required reflection on future plans and I returned to Cornwall to work on a farm for a year while I worked things out. Teaching seemed a viable proposition so once again I returned to London, this time to attend teachers’ training course at Borough Road College, Isleworth. After completing that course I was able to take up my first teaching position in Anstey primary school in Alton, Hampshire. There I remained until 1969 when in August I resigned to take up a teaching position in Alberta Canada. The reason for that move was that I had always since a young child been interested in the history and culture of the North American Indian.
(Photo left: "Me") Now I would put that interest and my professional qualification together and use it on an Indian reserve. My first position was with the Blood Indians on their reserve in southern Alberta. There I was to meet Josy, a member of that tribe, who I married. We had two children, Todd and Tonya. Through the ‘70s my work took me to other reserves in Alberta - Cree, Peigan, Chippewa - finally settling with the Stonies on their reserve west of Calgary. My work for native people was to last the rest of my working career but unfortunately that was not the case for my marriage. In my last teaching position, which took me into northern Alberta, I found myself alone. On my trips back to England to visit my parents I had also met up with old friends, one of whom was Marie.
Since I had last seen her in London in the late ‘50s, she had left the country to work and live at various times in Spain, Italy and Venezuela. Eventually she returned to Europe to work again in Spain. Through letters and meeting together again in London in the early ‘90s, I was so happy when she agreed to join me in northern Alberta. We were married there in 1996. On my retirement we moved to Victoria, British Columbia where we have lived ever since. Our combined family includes her daughter Susie, living with her husband in White Rock British Columbia, and her son Ben living in London, as well as my two, Tonya in Calgary, and Todd in Switzerland, and my four grandchildren (Tonya’s) Alexandra, Dylan, Caden and Bryton.
As a final note: I now belong to a running/walking group in Victoria and am regarded by the members as their fastest walker. I tell them of course it all began when as a young man, a long time ago, I marched at the DCLI pace!