Officers' only seats and tracking down Uncle Dan
On another occasion when ashore in Bari I was in a forces’ entertainment establishment where Larry Parks and company were performing a mystery murder play. He became a popular film star shortly after the war for his portrayal of Al Jolson.
When shows of this nature are presented, it is customary for the first six rows to be allocated for officers and guests. This always got right up my nose something rotten, as I just could not agree with it. So, on this occasion, I parked myself in the second row that caused a right commotion. MPs were called and the situation was explained but I stuck to my seat. Then the Gestapo arrived and they typically informed the MPs they should take me outside and knock some sense into me. I was still adamant and there was now a bunch of all sorts having a go. Then Larry Parks piped up and as the play required a jury, would I take a part in it, to which I said OK - my first stage performance had arrived.
After the play they had a get together drink with grub and the leading actor invited me. He agreed with my views, similar to Parks and they tried to highlight the unfairness of the situation but it fell on deaf ears as most of the service men present were officers and they all quashed the idea. This was my only chance to object to something I always thought was very unjust. To attempt this sort of objection in the UK would probably have landed me with 14 days ‘jankers’¹.
Whilst based at Ancona I also made an expedition to see if I could track down my uncle Dan (my father’s brother) who was a Sgt Major with the Loyal Edmonton Regiment. He had left Newcastle for Canada in the 1920s. I found it easy to thumb a lift (the sailors outfit helped) towards their base approximately 12 miles from Ancona. I got dropped off at a crossroads and told a Canadian transport would take me directly to the base – the redcaps were also a great help in giving me directions as they were to be found at most junctions.
I reached the camp and was shown to the Sergeants Mess and asked about Dan. I kind of got the impression that Dan, who was in the hospital off base, may have been playing up on the injury he had – who knows. I also tried to see if one of Dan’s mates was there, a guy from Athabasca called Jack Mackay. Both he and Dan would visit my Mam’s in Newcastle and after a night out go in the back garden and howl like wolves. They also partook in watering the rhubarb that eventually didn’t grow too big...a new species we renamed Pygmy Rhubarb.
The other Canadian lads made me extremely welcome and quite a few blokes popped in to find out what a sailor was doing in camp. I had a few beers and whiskies and they laid on transport all the way back to the Vetch for me.
When shows of this nature are presented, it is customary for the first six rows to be allocated for officers and guests. This always got right up my nose something rotten, as I just could not agree with it. So, on this occasion, I parked myself in the second row that caused a right commotion. MPs were called and the situation was explained but I stuck to my seat. Then the Gestapo arrived and they typically informed the MPs they should take me outside and knock some sense into me. I was still adamant and there was now a bunch of all sorts having a go. Then Larry Parks piped up and as the play required a jury, would I take a part in it, to which I said OK - my first stage performance had arrived.
After the play they had a get together drink with grub and the leading actor invited me. He agreed with my views, similar to Parks and they tried to highlight the unfairness of the situation but it fell on deaf ears as most of the service men present were officers and they all quashed the idea. This was my only chance to object to something I always thought was very unjust. To attempt this sort of objection in the UK would probably have landed me with 14 days ‘jankers’¹.
Whilst based at Ancona I also made an expedition to see if I could track down my uncle Dan (my father’s brother) who was a Sgt Major with the Loyal Edmonton Regiment. He had left Newcastle for Canada in the 1920s. I found it easy to thumb a lift (the sailors outfit helped) towards their base approximately 12 miles from Ancona. I got dropped off at a crossroads and told a Canadian transport would take me directly to the base – the redcaps were also a great help in giving me directions as they were to be found at most junctions.
I reached the camp and was shown to the Sergeants Mess and asked about Dan. I kind of got the impression that Dan, who was in the hospital off base, may have been playing up on the injury he had – who knows. I also tried to see if one of Dan’s mates was there, a guy from Athabasca called Jack Mackay. Both he and Dan would visit my Mam’s in Newcastle and after a night out go in the back garden and howl like wolves. They also partook in watering the rhubarb that eventually didn’t grow too big...a new species we renamed Pygmy Rhubarb.
The other Canadian lads made me extremely welcome and quite a few blokes popped in to find out what a sailor was doing in camp. I had a few beers and whiskies and they laid on transport all the way back to the Vetch for me.
¹ Slang term for military punishment.