Across North Africa (1943)

Eileen’s brother, my Uncle Bert, joined the RAF, leaving Auntie Gwen to run the flower shop in West London. After initial training, Bert was told he wasn’t fit to fly but became a radio operator and was posted to North Africa. A chirpy Londoner, Bert sent a series of letters and cards as his units travelled across North Africa and then through Italy.

25/5/43

Dear Eileen

After over a week of travelling I have now arrived at No.7 Army Air Support Control. It was a bit of a blow leaving the squadron for I had been with all the lads since we formed up in England …

Alger / Algiers

Now that this campaign is over, we are allowed to give details of our movements. I arrived in Algiers on Nov 12^th after a most uneventful journey, we saw neither jerry plane nor sub. Our course was certainly erratic, and we seemed to be travelling in circles for days in the Atlantic. When we did make a definite move, we nipped through the straits of Gib. like fun at dead of night passing Tangiers with its illuminations reflecting in the Med, quite an unusual sight these days.

When we arrived at Algiers on the following morning, the sun was just rising, and the white houses built on the side of a hill gleaming in the sunlight with a deep blue sky above was a view that I shall always remember.

We landed and moved to temporary quarters until we got organised when we shifted to a farm. We stayed there until the campaign finished. Then my posting arrived, and I had to say goodbye to all my French friends in Algiers and Rouiba, a village nearby, get cleared from my station and start my journey Eastwards.

As usual, I had managed to collect a terrific amount of junk. After disposing of a lot of it I was left with two kitbags, full pack, a box containing seven-day rations with primus, gun and ammo., side pack, water bottle etc and a large bundle containing blankets and palliasse. I was then taken by jeep to the railway station … I was lucky, I got into a cattle truck which is much better as it allows one to stretch out at night and get a good sleep.

We travelled slowly on this single-track railway through the mountains, often doubling back three or four times in “S” bends to reach the summit of a range of hills that we couldn’t get around. Naturally, being a single track, halts were frequent, but the trouble was no-one knew how long it would be stopping for … It was usually when it stopped for a few minutes that we decided to get out and make a cup of tea, only to have to make a hurried return to the train when it made its unannounced start, slinging in mugs and billycans and finally scrambling on ourselves. But for all these things it was a very enjoyable journey and the most beautiful one I have ever made. Progress was slower than usual owing to the number of prisoners moving in the opposite direction.

I got off the train at Souk El Khemis to find my new unit, but as they had moved, I continued to search for them by road. I moved to a place between Medjez-el-Bab and Tunis … I visited Tunis and found out where my unit could be found.

Tunis is very much different from Algiers and bears the mark of German occupation. I was glad I saw it, for although there is not much to see, I feel that my tour of North Africa is complete.

The unit is resting at the moment, getting things in good working order for future campaigns. We work only in the mornings and since we are camped on the seashore with a fine beach a few yards away you can imagine we are having a very pleasant time with plenty of swimming and sunbathing. The weather is really hot now and the mosquito nets are a necessity, if not so much for mosquitoes, they stop you from bring plagued by flies.

The population her is very mixed. Italians, Arabs, Jews from Palestine and Tripoli, and a large number of Maltese. … The children around here without exception seem to speak three languages, French, Italian and Arabic, which makes us clever blokes with education and all that think quite a bit. These kids flock around he place and are rather a pest, but it gives me a chance to practice my “tu” on one or two of them, a thing I have not been able to do before.

Moving through the country the great thing that struck me was the way [people] live and work. {Things] cannot have progressed one little bit in the last few hundred years. Arab houses are still made of mud on a wooden framework covered with grass, their dress for the most part is the same as in biblical times, they still ride donkeys and keep sheep and goats in herds, plough by oxen and reap acres of barley by sickle, tying it in little bundles as they go. In a land so naturally rich as this, to see so much poverty … naturally makes you think. Probably the situation in India is a parallel case.

I hope things are still going well at your end and you are plotting them with great precision.

Cheerio

Bert.

18/8/43

Dear Eileen

… there is little to report here. We are still doing precious little to support the war effort, but perhaps we are being saved for something bigger and better in the near future. I do indeed hope so, for I have reached a very low point, where everything is too much trouble and I can't concentrate on anything. Of course the heat doesn't help, it saps your energy and the slightest exertion brings perspiration dripping from you. ..

The nearby village is 90% Arab and although it contains some very interesting characters, it isn't exactly the bored airman's paradise ... It is quite unique in its own way ... with a colony of artists, musicians and others that appreciate the arts. A sort of Bohemian gathering. There are two art exhibitions in the village ... and although they are there primarily for commercial reasons they don't object to penniless airmen appreciating their efforts.

The musicians gather in a room like a small lock-up shop in the evening and render Arab compositions on the lute and guitar. There really is something in their music and the more you hear of it, the more you understand and appreciate it.

We had a day out with our friends the French marines the other day ... We had a few drinks but the beer is watery stuff and what is sold for vermouth is more like red wine gone wrong. The Frenchmen drink stuff called Anisette, but to me it tastes like Condy's fluid for when you drink it, it turns the water milky. The cafes are reserved for officers only ... however, with the French influence we got into a little place and had quite a pleasant meal. 

We returned by our wagon in the evening in a mood that should have been pleasant, but somehow after an afternoon in town where the heat is intense we never feel as though we have had a good time. There are too many soldiers there. The demand for everything is greater than the supply and a visit is hardly worth the effort of going.

I am glad to know that you are still getting about and making the most of everything. Each letter I have from you or Jack mentions leave. Either you are going or have just come back. I get the impression that work is in between leaves. That is because I envy it so much I expect. By golly, a fortnight in London sans flies, sans sun and plus everything, what I wouldn't give for it. Still, it will come one day, and after all, I haven't had a year of it yet, while some of the 8th have been here three years.

You ask what the French think of De Gaulle? Most of them, civilian and military, have great forth in him while they don't wholly trust Giraud. The only person that I have come across with strong ideas against de Gaulle was a Breton who thought that he was setting himself up as a dictator in post war France while Giraud was acting only in a military capacity and would leave administration to others ...

So you have made the acquaintance of some Yanks ... They are a queer lot or at least I find them so. The lads that have worked with them won't hear a word against them and I have found them very generous good hearted chaps, but they don't know how to behave. Many restrictions have been brought about by their barbarity and that's all you can call it. They seem to think that to be real warriors you've got to drink, it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's in a bottle and it's got a kick (shades of prohibition days).

You would think that they had come straight from a monastery, the way they treat, or try to treat, the girls here. The French people have rumbled them and they say to us that the English are the most polite nation in the world (or rather they say "gentil") and say they won't have anything to do with them, but the next time we go, there are the Yanks, feet firmly under the table with the families that have professed their lack of manners. This has happened many times. I don't know whether it's their charm, their money or their surplus rations, but they get there. ...

I hope you had an enjoyable leave, although the answer to that is a foregone conclusion and that you will be refreshed for your trade test. Let's hope you don't have to work out the speed of an ampere going round an anode bend on a mega cycle.

Lots of love

Cheerio

Bert