During our ocean trip the World Series of that year, 1942, was being played. I remember one of the teams was the St. Louis Cardinals. While we were hanging over the rails as we docked, two American Officers were walking along the dock and someone hollered, "Who won the World Series??" Just then some "bright" wit from above yelled back down, "Who won the last war??" This was a kind of joke because although the Americans did not get into the first war until it was nearly over, they always claimed that they 'won' that war.
Anyway, all day long they were disembarking troops ~ airmen, navy types, etc. ~ troop after troop, and we were always thinking that we would be next. It went on until dark and we were still aboard. However, about 9 pm, we were led off and a guy with a lantern of some kind went in front of us. You see, at dark there were no lights in dear Old England except very dim ones like the one leading us. The next thing we knew we were boarding a train, and with all the curtains drawn it was dimly lit. We settled into the seats and the next thing we knew we were all being served a hot meal. I forget what kind of meal it was but we were hungry and anything was better than we had had on the ship.
After things settled down and the train was filled up, it started off. There were no whistles, no bells ~ it silently started to pull away from the station. So we were on our way to somewhere in England though we knew not where and, at that moment, cared less. We were off the ship! We travelled all night and I recall I did not sleep much. When daylight came I was all agog and I remember seeing the rows upon rows of red brick homes with their many chimneys fleeting by. I remember too the lovely green landscape. At about 7 in the morning our train stopped and some Corporal or Seargent hollered out, "This is it!!" I didn't notice the station sign with said it was Bournemouth. When we were all off the train we were lined up in formation and I remember there was an R.C.A.F. band to lead us up town. At one of the town squares we were divided up and each group were taken to places that were assigned to us for billets. I just don't know how many there were in our group but we were taken to a former hotel overlooking the cliff with the ocean down below. The place was called Estcliff Court. It had been a former holiday hotel as the whole city of Bournemouth as I was later to learn, was a resort for the well to do.
We settled in, got our bearings and after having been given some information on where we were and how we should behave, we were free to walk about. Another chap and I ( I think his last name was Gorman) took off for down town and mosied around for most of the time visiting pubs, etc. That night after chow we decided we would again venture down town. Now this was early October and in England at that time of year it gets dark fairly early, so when we were downtown we were in the dark most of the time. We kind of had our bearings but rather early we thought we had better head back to our billets which we went about doing. When we were crossing the courtyard we met an English soldier who, I guess, knew we were greenhorns and asked as much. He said he was going to a place not very far away where a few were gathered for a private dance to a record player and asked if we'd like to join him. As it wasn't far from our digs we took him up on the offer. When we got through the blackout curtains we were in a small hall of some sort. There weren't very many there but a few service types who were dancing and a few more sitting about. There were a couple of A.T.S. (Army girls) sitting sort of by themselves so we asked them for a dance and they were ready and willing, so we danced several times. We learned that they were quartered in the Picardy Hotel located not very far from where we were so when the dancing finished, which it always did early in wartime England, we volunteered to walk them to their abode.
This first night in England was memorable as we were only in the country a few hours and we had struck up a relationship! I learned that my girlfriend's name was Peggy Hinkley and that she was in the womens army. She presently lived in Bournemouth and that she came from a family where her father was a Merchant Seaman Captain. He was presently out in that very dangerous Atlantic. She told me how that he would often get to Canada and one of the things he always brought back was a Toronto Star (which at that time was famous for its "Rotogravure" or "photo section" which she enjoyed very much. We made arrangements to have a further date the next evening (I wasn't losing any time). You had to make the best of time over there as you never knew what would happen or where you might be sent to the next day. As it turned out, we were in good old Bournemouth for near a month and I saw Peggy quite often taking in various dances and shows.
Everything was rationed in Britain during that time and food of any kind was hard to come by. I recall Peggy saying one day that the following Sunday we would go on a picnic to a place called Christchurch. I didn't know about this place at the time but I did know it was not far out of Bournemouth by bus. Peggy had been saving some of her food rations for this occasion. I remember one of the items was a boiled egg - one apiece. Eggs were really a premium. So come Sunday, off we went to this Christchurch. I later learned it got the name from the old Priory or church which was located there. This church still had old stone pews built away back in the 1700's or thereabouts. The old buriel grounds surrounded it and many of the stones were so weather beaten by the centuries that you could not read the inscriptions. At any rate, it was a lovely place, green lawns to spread your blanket on, a little creek or canal running nearby ~ very beautiful. The old and the new side by side. We had a nice afternoon and then went back by bus near evening. I don't remember but probably took in a show or dance (there were many movie houses to choose from). All those American movies took me "back home".
I forgot to mention one important coincidence. The band that met us at the station that morning when we arrived in England we saw later one day marching a column down the street in the city. As I watched them, lo and behold I spotted Siggy Johnson playing his Sax. I was dancing to Roy Brown's orchestra in Brandon, Manitoba at the Esquire Dance Hall in December of 1941 and here was Siggy was in that orchestra too. Siggy had, in the meantime, joined the R.C.A.F. as a musician and had gotten overseas before me. I found out that the band he had formed (a 5 piece band) was out each night playing for dances and they were known as Siggy and His Puddle Jumpers. Siggy came from down here at Sinclair, Manitoba and I knew him well. He was a great musician who never studied a note of music. Later when I was out in Africa, we used to listen to the shortwave BBC Service and different times the head-quarters R.C.A.F. band would be playing & Siggy Johnson's name would be mentioned as having arranged the music for that day's performance. He was a marvel as a musician. Later, after returning to Canada, he remained in the east and wound up at one time playing in the Royal York Hotel in Toronto.
So, that was my first few days experience in England and I shall not forget. I was later sent to Aberdeen, Scotland and lost contact with Peggy. I hope she had a good life and is still living somewhere. I understand that, at the time of this writing, Siggy is still living somewhere in Ontario.
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