The six weeks passed quickly and, as I had been threateningly informed, the war was still on. I received a notice from the Army ordering me to report to a camp in Bedlington (Northumberland). On arrival I found myself with about a hundred former prisoners in a retraining and rehabilitation unit. At first we were shown films of what had happened during our incarceration, and we listened to endless lectures on current affairs. Then, to our amazement, because we were all convinced that our part of the war was over, we began foot drill and arms drill. I was now back to the rank of Signalman, having been informed that Lance-Corporal was not a rank but an appointment and ceased when a man became a prisoner. As the pay for being a Lance-Corporal ceased as well, this was quite a blow. I knew, however, that I had a fair amount of back pay yet to come, but I was determined to wait until I could find a better place to spend it.
It soon became obvious that the Army did not really know what to do with us but they couldn’t simply discharge us – even though many of us were needed back at work. We got the feeling that we would have to wait some considerable time, probably until we had recovered in health sufficiently to be discharged Al, and thus could make no claim for disability pension.
After a few weeks in Bedlington we were sorted in to small groups and dispatched to various units. I found myself, together with a dozen other men, posted to a unit stationed near Tunbridge Wells in Kent. Again it was obvious that we were a nuisance rather than an asset, as the unit was a training establishment for young soldiers and recruits. We had no wish to take part in initial training, and after a number of mutinous incidents we were given the jobs all soldiers dislike – fatigues, guard duties, cleaners etc.
Someone then decided to concentrate the former prisoners in Clarence Barracks in Portsmouth. Thus began one of the most entertaining periods of the war, as far as I was concerned. It was soon realised that we – who had suffered great hardship and were very cunning in personal survival – were not going to undertake basic training so, apart from a single parade each day we were more or less left to our own devices. On one occasion we were marched down to the docks to ‘see a battleship’. We were allowed on board and all sorts of things were stolen, including the ship’s bell. That was the end of our visits to the Royal Navy.
I then decided to draw most of my back pay as I had been given a week-end’s leave. Five of us went up to London, where we spent our money on top class hotel accommodation, food, drink, shows etc. We had enough to club together to take a taxi back to Portsmouth, although we had to promise the driver we would try to get him some petrol from the Army. One of my friends – Lofty -had no trouble in doing this when we arrived back at our base. Time began to drag, and discharge was no nearer. I was eventually summoned to the C.O’s office and asked if I knew any trigonometry. He gave me a copy of an Army manual and asked me if I could teach a group of young officers the elementary trigonometry they required. Whilst I was out of practice, I thought it would be an interesting challenge, so I agreed.
I was then instructed by the sergeant-major on procedure. As I was only a Signalman and the officers ranged up to the rank of Captain, I had to stand to attention when they arrived in the classroom and when they were seated I had to address myself to the senior officer present with the question, “Permission to begin, Sir”. At the end of the lesson I was to ask for, “Permission to finish”. I had to give the officers ‘homework’, which they resented bitterly. After about a fortnight, the C.O. came round and asked me in front of the class how things were going. I politely replied that I had had some difficulty in getting ‘homework’ from some of the officers. They then began to make my life something of a misery so I asked if I could resign from this post. I was allowed to do so, but very quickly found myself on guard duty and, to my horror, my name appeared on Part II orders to be posted overseas to Europe. My only recourse was to write to my M.P. This I did, and to my surprise my name was deleted from the draft for overseas and I was posted back to the camp near Tunbridge Wells. Before I could go, however, I contracted severe tonsillitis and was eventually hospitalised in Portsmouth.