FANY Reminiscences 1939-1947

S.O.E. Goes East

Our convoy reached Bombay on VE-Day. Soon after arrival at Poona we were told that, owing to all our vaccination and jab papers having been lost, we had to have them all over again. As it was a small transit camp it was difficult to settle in. I was fortunate enough to get ill and spent a relatively happy three weeks in BMH Poona where the patients on one side of the long dark ward had varying degrees of dysentery and those on the other (self included) were surgical cases – the loos were used by both, irrespective of infection – not at all like home. The CO – a charming surgeon – had a great sense of humour and wrote me a medical certificate stating "This FANY has been ill – she is now better" (my having sent the official one to my unit), and packed me off to the Red Cross Officers' convalescent home in Bangalore. Although we were all a bit weak, we had as good a time as possible in marvellous surroundings and the utmost comfort.

Our particular bit of Ceylon (where I was posted later) could be described as the complete opposite of its PR image. We had big iguanas strolling through the camp (which, until our arrival, was semi-jungle) and very nasty insects. There were open drains throughout the camp and the native bearers' quarters were in a wired off section too close for comfort, from which would emanate various singsongs, and drummings throughout the night. When the monsoon came we had to walk on duckboards from hut to hut. The Americans were stationed fairly near and, mis-interpreting our initials, would from time to time ring up for "a dozen or so girls and we’ll send the transport." In fact, those who dared had a very good time and were treated like royalty.

We met the troopships bringing back our men from the Japanese POW camps – they were skin and bone and mostly very ill, a dreadful sight – but we were able to inform some of their relatives of their safe return and I still have a letter from a family thanking me for the first news of their son for years.

Off duty was spent mostly on the beaches – bathing at Mount Lavinia at night was enchanting; phosphorescence dripped off one's body and arms like Christmas tinsel, transforming even me into something rich and strange in the moonlight! I managed to hitch a lift in a Dakota to the mainland: our only seats were packing cases (it took me years to realise that one could travel in comfort in an aeroplane) and we were dangerously overcrowded. However, I got to Coti and spent a wonderful weekend's leave at the club high up in the hills – we even had a roaring log fire in our bedroom. One small achievement was that of actually flying the plane on the homeward journey across the north of Ceylon under the watchful eyes of two ex-Quantas pilots and I was the first female to land on what was then a small airstrip in the making where you had to dodge various animals before landing – Ratmalana.

VJ-Day came unexpectedly. I remember standing in the Mess talking to one of the returned agents just back from Burma when the news came through. We broke the lock of the bar and had a double whiskey each. One of the happiest times of my life was the journey home in the troopship "Antenor".

L. KNOWLES, SOE FORCE 136