On Holiday
Home ● Sitemap ● Reference ● Last updated: 03-October-2009
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If there are any technical
problems, factual inaccuracies or things you have to add,
then please contact the group
under info@calcutta1940s.org
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Introduction
For those that could afford it, holidays away,
especially up to the hills in the hot summers had always been a Calcutta
tradition. In addition there were hunts
and long home leaves for some. The
1940s brought new people to the city who also wanted to see something of India
while they where there. Some where
lucky enough to be sent away to recuperate after injuries or illness. Other fled the expected Japanese advance.
For all it was a break from the routine which they seldom forgot.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Daytrips
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
The palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan, in Burdwan
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: Glenn S. Hensley: Maharajah palace, G039, "The palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan, in Burdwan. This was photographed on a tour conducted by the American Red Cross for US military personnel stationed nearby." Gushkara seen at University of Chicago Hensley Photo Library at http://dsal.uchicago.edu/images/hensley as well as a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley and under a Creative Commons license)
The palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan, in Burdwan
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: Glenn S. Hensley: Maharajah palace, G040, "The palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan, in Burdwan. This was photographed on a tour conducted by the American Red Cross for US military personnel stationed nearby." Gushkara seen at University of Chicago Hensley Photo Library at http://dsal.uchicago.edu/images/hensley as well as a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley and under a Creative Commons license)
Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: Glenn S. Hensley: Palace structures, G041, Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan. Gushkara seen at University of Chicago Hensley Photo Library at http://dsal.uchicago.edu/images/hensley as well as a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley and under a Creative Commons license)
Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: Glenn S. Hensley: Palace structures, G042, Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan. Gushkara seen at University of Chicago Hensley Photo Library at http://dsal.uchicago.edu/images/hensley as well as a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley and under a Creative Commons license)
Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: Glenn S. Hensley: Palace structures, G043, Structures on the grounds of the palace of the Maharajah of Burdwan. Gushkara seen at University of Chicago Hensley Photo Library at http://dsal.uchicago.edu/images/hensley as well as a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley and under a Creative Commons license)
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
We
never got to see anyone who claimed he was the Maharaja
Our squadron was temporarily assigned to a small airbase near Gushkara, about 60 miles northwest of Calcutta. While there, on non-duty days we enjoyed trips arranged by the Red Cross to points of interest relatively closeby. One of those events was a day trip to Burdwan to tour an actual Maharaja's palace.
Our transport for the 20 of us that day was a military truck. At the Palace, we were allowed to tour many "public" rooms inside and to inspect most of the nicely landscaped grounds outside. A box lunch was provided by the Red Cross and eaten at noon beside the "tank" in front of the palace. It was a great opportunity to see the Indian countryside -- up close, too.
You asked if the palace was still in use. I'm not sure. We never got to see anyone who claimed he was the Maharaja, just toured the rooms. The palace building was on the outskirts of the town proper, but I don't know just where or which direction from the center of the city.
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley)
What was your
impression of it?
The palace was located in what had once been an area of quite formal gardens, but they had mostly grown into a tangle of bushes when we were there. The place did not appear to have been maintained in anywhere near its once former luxuriousness. The building itself was a masonry, rectangular,two floor structure with what I remember as a flat roof bordered by a low, decorative railing, also of masonry. A long, curved set of steps lead up to the front door. In front of the building was what Indians would call a huge (maybe more than an acre) tank of water. It had a basic light exterior color, but what tint I don't recall. Architecture was not what I had expected. I thought it would more resemble a miniature Taj.
You asked about furnishings. I'm also snailmailing you an image that shows one corner of one room. I'd call the interior "cluttered" but, then, most peope would call my office room here cluttered, too. My clutter all has meaning to me. I suppose all the "arty" furniture and trinkets had a meaning to the Rajah, too. There was a large, meeting room, decorated by bigger than life wall paintings of what I would call "Rajah in action" scenes, tiger hunting, meeting with throngs of fancily-dressed constituents or diplomatic big-wigs. We were not shown where the Rajah lived on a daily basis -- where he cooked his soup or drank his coffee.
The only persons we saw were those who were in our visiting group and its leaders. We saw no one either in the building or out on the grounds.
I thought it was just another huge building called a house and owned and furnished by a person with more money than interior decorating ability. It looked more like I would expect an antique furniture museum to appear. To me, that was its main claim to fame. It did have a goodly supply of antique -- probably quite valuable -- old furniture and paintings.
That was about it. At least, I could claim that I had "visited in the house of an Indian Maharajah."
Glenn Hensley, Photography Technician with US Army Airforce, Summer 1944
(source: a series of E-Mail interviews with Glenn Hensley between 12th June 2001 and 28th August 2001)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced by permission of Glenn Hensley)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darjeeling
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
Tickets to Darjeeling
collected by
Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart, I.C.S. (Indian Civil Service), Calcutta
(source: personal
scrapbook kept by Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart
O.B.E., I.C.S. seen on
20-Dec-2005 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Mrs. Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart)
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
21 days leave in Darjeeling
The
second leave I remember most. This was to Darjeeling via Calcutta. We had been
given 21 days. Three of us went. We travelled by normal rail to Silguri, and
then up to Darjeeling by the most wonderful railway in the world —“the
Darjeeling Himalayan”. It took us three days from our camp to the rest camp at
Darjeeling. The officer in charge of the rest camp looked at our passes and
said “Right, you are here for 21 days. Make the most of it”. The scenery was
fantastic. We only saw “Chomo Lungma” — Everest once. It was usually covered in
mist. The second highest mountain Kanchenjunga, we saw most days. My pals were
not eager to get out of bed on a morning, so I usually went for a walk into the
hills each morning. This was the place where the Ghurkha soldiers lived. I
rarely walked on my own. One or more of these chaps, some retired, some on
leave, would join me. With my bit of Urdu and their bit of English we managed
quite well. I had been having lessons in Urdu with a Munchi language teacher.
The main reason for this was that one day our officer heard me swearing at one
of the Indians because he couldn’t understand what I was saying. He gave me a
telling off and said that it would be a good idea if some of us tried to learn
a little Urdu. On our walks the views, the flowers and shrubs were really
beautiful, especially the rhododendrons,
The
three weeks went too fast. Soon we had to catch that unique train down the
mountain and then to Calcutta. We went to see the movement officer in the
station to see what time the train to Ranchi was. This, we were told, was in
three days time. We had no money left, so we were sent to an Army unit that was
in the area. They fixed us up with money, food and a bed. We were away from our
unit about a month. We expected all kinds of trouble when we reported back, but
our officer was very good. He just hoped we had had a good leave and that was
that.
Harry Sheard, Army, Darjeeling,
mid 1940s
(source: A2109539 Grandad's War at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
Leave in the Hills
It was decided that we should
both go away on leave. To clear our minds. Whatever that meant. We took the
train to Darjeeling and then up into Sikkim on stubborn mules, across the high
plateau towards Tibet, which reminded us both forcibly of the Yorkshire moors
and which was just as cold and uninviting. We saw dawn rise on Everest... the
sun set slowly on the shimmering height of Kanchenjunga, In Tindzhe Dzong women
hid behind the pillars in the market place horrified because Nan was wearing
trousers; and somewhere else, which I have forgotten, she traded a tin of
American bacon for two black agate rings, from an old man with a fluttering
prayer wheel. We were hopelessly unprepared for such a trip, but like most
idiots. Fortune cared for us, and we arrived back in Calcutta a month later,
calm, brown, rather pompous, happy, to be welcomed in the Mess with cheers and
tall John Collins's - and the news of my immediate posting to another war, in
Java.
Dirk Bogarde, Air photographic intelligence officer. Calcutta, late 1945
(source: pages 138-145, Dirk Bogarde: Snakes and Ladders London; Chatto & Windus, 1978.)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with Dirk Bogarde)
A break at a Hill Station
After
almost two years in the plains of India and no holiday or leave, it was decided
that I and others with a similar history should have a break at a Hill Station.
Of my own group it was Dan Davis, Bob Stannard and myself who were sent. Our
destination was Darjeeling in the Himalayas. Perhaps the timing could have been
better. It was April 1943 and the "cool" season when even Calcutta
was bearable. It was, however, an unforgettable and magnificent experience. We
were kitted out with Blue uniforms again and from Barrackpore station the train
took us to Siliguri - the end of the line. This was an overnight journey. Then,
on the small miniature gauge train from ground level to 6000 feet. Glasgow
built engines pushed and pulled the little train in rising circles and often
back and forward like this:
on
the mountain face where there was scarcely room.
Himalayan
Brown bears could occasionally be seen from the train and as the day went on
and we climbed higher and higher the heat became cooler and then cold and then
very cold and we arrived at Darjeeling at dusk. Gurkha girls and women
descended on us to carry our luggage up the hill to the truck. One young lady
grabbed my tin trunk and fastened it on her back with a band around her
forehead. One of her friends throwing my kit bag on the top of the trunk, off
up the hill she went and I couldn’t keep up - the cold air cutting at my chest
like a knife. The elevation and cool air were too much of a change for me to
adjust immediately. We were billeted in a Maharajas Summer Palace at Jalaphur,
a good bit higher than Darjeeling itself. If this sounds like the ultimate in
luxury, I should mention that everything movable had been moved. We were left
with the bare walls and all equipment, beds, tables etc was definitely basic
RAF. We were given a room on the second floor front. I doubt I have ever felt
so cold as on that first night. No heat of course and I ended up with
greatcoat, uniform and anything I could get piled up on the bed. But!!!! The
following morning. Never in my life have I seen such magnificent loveliness as
that. Straight in front of us was the Kanchenjunga range, with the magnificent
mountain itself topping everything. It must have been almost 30 miles away but
it still seemed immense and was inspiringly beautiful. Things like that cannot
be described, they can only be experienced.
Darjeeling
was hot in the daytime and cold at night. Cap and greatcoat had to be worn in
the local cinema to keep warm. The locals, great gamblers would be playing for
money in groups in the street. A short walk in the hillside would find a Holy
man sitting quiet and motionless, staring at the distant mountain, a God to
them.
Various
invitations came to the unit from local white residences. We three accepted an
invitation to spend a day with a Mr Cooksey on Landau Tea Estate. This was part
way down the hill in a valley and we saw the whole process from picking,
weighing, sorting and tasting. Afterwards, in his bungalow we sat in comfort
and had cool drinks whilst he played classical records on his gramophone. Do
all nice white people in India love good music? A meal followed and then back
to Jalaphur.
Another
morning we set off early on horses to go to Tiger Hill from where Everest was
often visible. In mountainous country this was a hazardous operation for the
unskilled rider like myself. We were each pursued by a "chico" who
seemed to find the whole operation very amusing. We were just in time to see
Everest. Rather disappointing really - just a knob sticking up between other
and closer mountains. Not a patch on Kanchenjunga. Anyway, we could say we'd
seen it. Cloud covered it over about 15 minutes after we arrived and so we
returned to base.
The
Indian government had a series of Dak bungalows, usually in remote and quiet
places, for the use of their Inspectors and employees. For most of the year
they are empty and can be hired by private people. The Lowes had taken one at
Debrapani for a fortnight and it happened to coincide with our visit to
Darjeeling about 15 miles away. At their invitation we went to visit them. With
no transport and no map or any clue to its whereabouts, we hired a taxi.
The
village of Debrapani was only small and about one mile from their bungalow
which seemed to be surrounded by jungle. Indeed the Lowes had been told not to
wander about outside after dark as it could be dangerous. This meant that we
had to stay the night. The bungalow had only one bedroom, a kitchen and a
living room. We slept on the floor in front of the fire in the living room,
fully clothed. From the noises that surrounded us at night I wouldn't really
have cared to make the short trip back to the village.
Eventually,
another great Indian experience came to its end and it was back to Siliguri by
the mountain railway and then on to Barrackpore.
Harry Tweedale, RAF
Signals Section, Darjeeling, April 1943
(source: A6665457 TWEEDALE's WAR Part 11 Pages 85-92 at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
Honeymoon in Kalimpong
We
discovered that if we took a train to Silhet Station, we could book in at a
hotel there. It was not far from Darjeeling and at the Southern End of the
route from Tibet. We booked for one week and started the next day. The place we
went to was Kalimpong.
The
train was no different from other trains and only took about 4 hours. The plan
was to get a taxi up to the hotel. We had been able to leave our tin trunks at
the room in Calcutta and only had a suitcase and a bedroll each.
Yes,
there was a taxi, but they couldn’t take us to Kalimpong as the road was not
passable due to the fact that some of it had slid into the river after one of the
last storms. He offered to take us to Darjeeling, we could probably get another
taxi from there. Half way there, a train passed us coming down the lines as
rail and road ran along side each other. One of its wheels was on fire, but
nobody seemed to mind. I think it was the brakes.
We
did find another taxi, but it was in bits. Lots of them all over the ground.
Not to be done out of an unexpected fare, the owner said he would have it ready
in two hours. The time we killed by getting lunch, belated, and a short walk
around the area. Amazingly, the man was as good as his word and we piled
ourselves in after asking the price.
Our
route took us through tea plantations and at times hair-raising gradients. In
one place we went down a steep hill, under a bridge, turned left and up and
over the bridge we just went under! Up a steep hill, we arrived very quickly at
our hotel. As we got out of the taxi, it was like magic. The sun came out and
in front of us was the world’s third highest mountain Kanchenjunga, floating
above a line of cloud, right across a blue sky. Who could ask for anything more
for a honeymoon?
Our
bedroom looked out on a large Camellia tree in full flower. The hotel was run
by a family of sisters. It was mostly open in Summer time as there was an English
school in the area and families could come and stay near the children. Also,
the parents could get a break from the heat of Calcutta.
The
local population were the nearest to the border of Tibet we had been and there
were a lot of Tibetans bringing turquoise and cheese (lovely mixture) to sell.
They wore large pieces of turquoise in their ears and thick clothes made from
skins with the fur inside. David had been given a film for a wedding present
and we carefully chose how to use it all the week.
Butterflies were all over very colourful and always could be found
along every hedge. We took pictures of them. The film was very precious. It had
been given to him by a jeweller in Calcutta who was serving as an army
photographer. There were no films on sale anywhere. We took the best pictures
we could, but didn’t have time in the week to get the film developed, so had to
take them back with us to Calcutta undeveloped. [Later] I found the film that
we had taken when we honeymooned had vanished. I had intended to get it
developed the next day. We never found it and it was no use to anyone else.
Sickening.
One
particularly bright spot was a discovery that a very good friend of mine (Loys)
who I first met in Headington, Oxford, where we were both training at the orthopaedic
hospital was in the area near Bombay. She had married a Dr Saudek. When he was
called up, she volunteered and joined him in the army quarter. She had
originally come from Canada to see her English cousins. Loys became a very good
friend and we went to Bart’s together. I vowed to see her as we would have to
be repatriated via Dulali, very near Bombay, on our way home. By this time they
had a baby boy.
The
day came when we had to go back to Calcutta. Another officer was
going back as well and it was arranged that we would share a taxi. The other
man was married and had been on leave with his family. He had done the trip
many times and knew it well.
The
road that we had tried to come up was still blocked. In fact, it had
disappeared into the river running beside it. We were told that we would have
to walk over the break and another taxi would meet us the other side. We piled
into the taxi, all 3 of us, me in the middle, and got to the break in the road.
Of course, the local people had known about the break and were eagerly awaiting
some cash for carrying the luggage. This involved climbing up the high side of
the road and the only way to do that was up a very wet waterfall to it’s top
(it was raining hard all the way) so we got soaked and very cold. Before we
could get across to the road on the other side, David said he had always wanted
to sit under a waterfall and he couldn’t be any wetter, so he did just that.
We, of course, had to pay our impromptu porters while they waited for more
victims.
The
other officer was very smug. He had a waterproof coat and found himself very
much dryer than we were. However, it was not possible for him to get away from
me, still in the middle in the taxi. When we got to the station the men took
their belongings with them to their changing room and I went to the Ladies. I
opened my bedroll and got out dry clothes and afterwards found out that David
did the same. Mr know-it-all had allowed his helper to carry it with the end
upwards and as it is the shape of a Swiss roll, the water had gone right down
the centre and everything was soaked. We didn’t sit in the same carriage in the
train on the way back to Calcutta. We never saw him again.
On
reporting to our separate units we were told we might have at least another 2
weeks to wait for a boat home, but we could go back together and would be
issued with instructions as soon as possible. [...]It would be by sea from
Bombay and we would go from Dulali family camp which was near Bombay.
Kitty Calcutt, Nurse, Kalimpong
Calcutta, October 1945
(source: A1307026 Wartime Memories of a Nurse at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
Against my wishes I was sent on sick leave
to Darjeeling
About
this time I was struck down by a fever and taken to Hospital in Calcutta. Every
day tests were carried out and blood samples taken but the Doctors could not
agree on what type of fever it was. Suffice it to say that the fever cured
itself and I was declared fit, but before being discharged the Senior Doctor
checked my records, found I was shortly due for release and decided I had been
out there long enough and needed some leave. Against my wishes I was sent on
sick leave to Darjeeling for three weeks and in response to my protests
undertook to send a signal to Darjeeling if I became due to catch a boat. I
almost believed him! I had been to Darjeeling before when I spent four weeks
there, to which I persuaded the Orderly Office to add another week for
travelling time.
Darjeeling
is a very pleasant place up in the Mountains and the scenery on the journey was
spectacular after leaving the plains of India. Several of us were spending sick
leave at the time and a very enjoyable time it was. Especially as it involved
mixing with civilians, something we had all missed very much.
Ken Armstrong, Royal Air Force, Calcutta, late
1945
(source: A4499508 An Airman in South East Asia Command Part Three at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
A joy after Calcutta
Lehong is a charming little spot, consisting only of the convalescent
depot, the IBGH, a racecourse and a village. The village, if one could call it
such, consists of half-a-dozen bazaar-type houses.
The convalescent depot is nothing like what I imagined — a thousand
times better in fact. It consists of a number of bungalows scattered on the
hillside, each shared by about ten officers. Some of these are quite a distance
from the mess, which is a communal bungalow in a fairly central position.
One bungalow is set aside for the female element, and in this Moira and
I share a room. The mess consists of a large dining room, table-tennis room,
bar and two lounges. There is an excellent radiogram and piano. A small room is
set aside for the bridge fiends.
Log fires are the order of the day, both in our rooms and mess. It is
such a joy to get away into the cool atmosphere after Calcutta.
VJ celebrations and parties
Monday, 21 August: My first week of convalescence at Lehong has passed
very quickly indeed. The main feature of the seven days is the continued VJ
celebrations. Although one is normally compelled to take things very quietly
here for the first two weeks, the CO did permit Moira and me to join the
parties at the Planters’ Club and the Gymkhana Club.
As far as I was concerned, this was in order, but I regret to say it
resulted in me having to insist on putting Moira into bed and calling the MO
along to see her. She was removed to the Darjeeling nursing home, and after 24
hours she became very ill indeed.
Full of the joys of spring
The climate up here, despite the continuous drizzle, has filled me with
the joys of spring. I’m bounding with energy and spend most of my time riding
the little ponies or climbing up to Darjeeling. I simply love the Gurkha
people. They have a charm and friendship that blends with the countryside.
This indeed is the home of tea. One can pick the leaves while walking
along the road. The bushes are planted in terraces along the mountainside in a
wonderfully neat method. Darjeeling is a charming little town, so beautifully
clean after Calcutta. All the world seems to roam through the streets doing
shopping on horseback.
Bouncing with vim and vigour
Monday, 27 August: The past week has seen a change for the worst in
Moira, and the specialist has given her no more than three months to live. I
visit her daily and endeavour to keep her spirits up. It seems wrong that,
thinking so much of Moira, I should be bouncing more and more with vim and
vigour, but that, I suppose, is life!
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed a few games of hockey this week with the men —
much to their amazement. There are still numerous parties in Darjeeling, and I
have visited the cinema twice.
Locked in another world
The long-awaited view of Kinchinjunga was ours to behold this week. I
awoke one glorious, sunny morning to find before me the most magnificent
picture that I could possibly imagine. The golden sunshine on the snow-covered
mountains covered the panorama as far as the eye could see. We were looking
down on the clouds that blocked out all sight of land beneath us, and we felt
we were in another world.
Never had I imagined anything so beautiful that neither artist nor
camera could reproduce. This, however, fades from view after about 9am, usually
as the clouds gather, and, once again, we are enveloped in mist.
Strangely enough, one gets so used to rain up here that never is it
allowed to interfere with pleasure or routine.
Clouds of butterflies in the Sikim valley
Monday, 3 September: This week I should return to Calcutta, but the CO
has decided that I should remain another week or two on Moira’s account. She
looks forward to my visits so much, and I do manage to cheer her up a bit. She
is somewhat better this week, and I do hope the progress continues.
One of the most pleasant afternoons this week was spent in the Sikim
valley. Our party left on horseback at 10am and rode down the mountains through
the tea gardens to the valley. It grew warmer and warmer as we went until we
were quite scorched by the sunshine.
The Sikim valley was a beautiful spot. I was particularly taken by the
magnificent butterflies — not by the odd specimen, but by the literally clouds
of the most beautiful colours imaginable. They just have to be seen to be
believed.
Faradism and massage, scorpions and snakes
The mess has changed beyond recognition. The constant laughter and
wisecracking that prevailed in my first two weeks has disappeared. We all miss
Peg-leg and Fortune, the two RAF types with whom there was never a dull moment.
Also, Navy, too, has gone, and one or two of the old gang have retreated to
hospital again.
Each morning I verify my existence by giving faradism and massage to
David Ensor and generally assist Doc. in the MI room.
At one time it seemed that I would never become accustomed to jackals
screaming on my veranda at night or believe that the din created by the beetles
and bullfrogs would cease to keep me awake, but now I hardly notice them. One
gets the weirdest animals in one’s bedroom here, and a constant watch has to
kept for snakes, scorpions and what have you.
Calcutta calling
Monday, 10 September: All good things must come to an end, and so this
week I’m back to earth with thoughts of going down. Any excuse is better than
none for a party up here, and at least three materialise in Darjeeling each
week.
Roller skating too has become the rage, and I’m somewhat black and blue.
Riding still is my main occupation, and so I ride up to see Moira each day. She
is still progressing favourably, which is a good thing, and so I shall be going
down on Thursday.
Actually, Entally (Calcutta) have signalled to find out where I’ve got
to, so perhaps I’d better get back to work.
Henrietta Susan
Isabella Burness, V.A.D., Lebong, 14th August to 10th
September 1945
(source: A1940870 Life in the VAD (Voluntary Aid Detachment), 1945at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
A gloomy holiday in Kurseong
It might have been better if I had gone away when the war was over in Europe, had come back later when in better health, and had then retired. Various reasons kept me back; also, there was no ship accommodation, as every available space for passengers was engaged for more than eighteen months, both sea and air.
I did take a trip to the hills. Kurseong was recommended as the best place for a fellow run down in health. I stayed days in Kurseong, with occasional trips up to Darjeeling. It did me no good, however; in fact, I gained nothing by my sojourn up to the hills, as all supplies were limited. The Indian hill stations were not what they used to be in peacetime.
August Peter Hansen, Customs Inspector, Calcutta 1944
(source: page 210 of August Peter Hansen: “Memoirs of an Adventurous Dane in India : 1904-1947” London: BACSA, 1999)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with 1999 Margaret [Olsen] Brossman)
Kanchenjunga and
Everest
Kanchenjunga
is a table mountain and in the sunrise and sunset, the glow made it seem as if
it was covered with a red and gold tablecloth, Kanchenjunga and K2 were clearly
visible from the road running just above our school. Everest was a different
kettle offish. In order to see the peak, one had to climb Tiger Hill in the
early morning or at twilight and then there was no guarantee that it would be
visible since it was covered by cloud most of the time. I never got to see the
peak although I did go on a trip up Tiger Hill and one of my hopes has been
that some day I shall return to see it.
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. Darjeeling, 1947
(source: page 32 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
We were told that they never changed their
clothes
One could trek from Tonglu to Sikkim or into the neighbouring mountain Kingdom of Nepal. The local people were rosy cheeked and dressed in colourful kimono type gowns which were worn over long shirt type undergarments. We were told that they never changed their clothes but put new ones on over the old when they became threadbare although perhaps this was just one of the silly stories which went around India.
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. Darjeeling, 1947
(source: page 32 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
Escape to Kalimpong
It seemed better, however, to get out of Calcutta. So, on impulse, and knowing that I could at least find a background story for the paper, I flew yesterday to Bagdogra at the foothills of the Himalayas and hired a car to drive me three hours up winding mountain roads to Kalimpong. Every minute the air grew cooler, so did my head. The chauffeur and I drove by frothing and tumbling mountain streams. We passed under great ferns as high as trees. We saw tea plantations and flocks of coolies with happy Mongolian faces. We drove up a last high peak, down a hill, and came at sunset to this crazy little Himalayan Hotel.
We are so close here to the border of Tibet that the atmosphere is more Tibetan than Indian. The lounge where everyone gathers is hung with Tibetan banners; the famous MacDonalds who run the hotel are Scottish-Tibetan. In the evening all kinds of people, most of whom seem to be specializing in one phase or another of Tibetan life, drift into the lounge, fix their own buttered rum at the bar, write their own chits for the record, and sit around a central charcoal brazier—talking of Tibet, of course.
Margaret Parton, American foreign correspondent (New York Herald Tribune). Calcutta, 1950
(source page 48 of Margaret Parton: “The leaf and the flame.” London : Bodley Head, 1959.)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with Margret Parton 1959)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranchi & the Bihar Hills
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Simla and other Hillstations
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
to a dance in Happy Valley
When on holiday in Shillong with my mother, I went to a dance in Happy Valley. There must have been about 300 servicemen and we girls must have numbered about 20. We danced to the Squadronaires.
Mary Anderson
(nee Hezmalhalch), office worker, Calcutta, 1944
(source: A2640601 A Schoolgirl’s War in the Far East at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
Honeymoon in Ooty
The celebrations in Cooch Behar
continued for another week, but on the third day Jai and I set off for our
honeymoon —a European custom that we had decided to adopt.
[…]
Originally, Jai and I had planned
to go to Ceylon because neither of us had been there, but in the end, because of
the difficulties of wartime travel, we decided on my beloved Ooty, the hill
resort in south India. Indrajit, who was going to join his regiment,
accompanied us as far as Calcutta.
[…]
Once we reached Ooty everything
became cosy and easy. We stayed in the annex of the big house belonging to the
Jodhpurs, the family from which Jai's first and second wives came. Some of the
young Jodhpur children were staying in the main house, and they used to come
and have tea with us. We played tennis with their staff, and it all seemed very
friendly and natural. I went riding less than usual because I was still
convalescing from my diphtheria, but occasionally we followed the hunt, and
often we went on picnics. Jai loved picnics, and in that month we must have
visited just about every beauty spot in the area. Some of our friends were in
Ooty and we often entertained and were entertained by them—all informal parties
for drinks and dinner. If there was a formal party or a reception at Government
House, Jai would go alone.
Gayatri Devi, Maharani of Jaipur. Ooty, Summer 1940.
(source: p. 143-144 Gayatri Devi / Santha Rama Rau: “A Princess Remembers. The Memoirs of the Maharani of Jaipur”. Philadelphia & New York: J.B. Lippincott Company. 1976 / Reproduced by courtesy of Santha Rama Rau).
What a madhouse that city was!
"SEAC" also advertised places in
India where one could go "on leave" and this set me off on my only
"leave" in India. In October 1944, with my friend Harry Birkinshaw, I
went to Bangalore, 3000ft up in the hills of South India. We stayed at a small,
comfortable hotel run by an Indian family, the food was good, and we lived like
civilians for two weeks. We played tennis, went swimming, toured the town and
its beautiful parks, we went to dances. Hiring bicycles, we explored the
surrounding country, the Lal Bagh terraced botanical gardens, and saw a
fabulous Maharaja's palace.
We
broke journeys there and back for half day visits to Calcutta. What a madhouse
that city was! The huge Howrah Station was crowded with people, many natives
seemed to be actually living - and cooking - on the platforms and in the
entrance hall. Crossing the massive steel suspension Howrah Bridge, we found
the streets just one mass of people, the roadways chock-a-block with
pedestrians, rickshaws, bicycles, cows, and the ubiquitous beggars every few
yards. That was as far as we got, we were not sorry to leave behind Calcutta
and its teeming millions.
Cecil John
Callis, , Calcutta, October 1944
(source: A4428371 1941-1945 Eastern Travels Part 9 at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
Dr Seal's strawberry field
Dr. Seal was an irascible old man who carried a huge walking stick all knobbly and knarled, like himself. On one occasion, my brother Stephen who was the next in age to myself although three years older, took me into Dr Seal's strawberry field and we were sitting there enjoying the strawberries when the old man came out with his walking stick, shaking it at us and shouting. Stephen decamped as fast as his little legs would carry him, leaving me sitting there, covered in strawberry juice, strawberry stains all over my white pinnafore. My eyes grew even rounder than they naturally were, and in my sheer terror, all I could do was sit there and wail, "Maameeeeeee". My sister Marie, thirteen years older, heard me and came running out, scooping me up with one hand and carried me back to safety - the old man still shouting and waving and threatening us for all he was worth.
Dr Seal had a son called Trevor who also became a doctor and we met again many years later when we remembered this incident with much laughter.
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. Dehra Dun 1939
(source: page 11-12 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Seaside
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Holiday in Calcutta
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
Seymour Balkin in front of Jain Temple, Calcutta
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
Lt. Daniel Bursch
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
Capt. James Slattery (2nd from left) with his Co-Pilot, Navigator and Bombardier
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
Rogers, Balkin, Cook, and Bursch
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
Bursch (Howrah Bridge)
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
Seymour Balkin (Howrah Bridge)
Seymour
Balkin, USAAF 40th Bombergroup. Calcutta, 1944
(source: webpage http://40thbombgroup.org/indiapics2.html Monday,
03-Jun-2003 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Seymour Balkin)
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
Like a man heading for death
At the end of October […] I went to Calcutta for a ten day’ holiday and shopping spree. I had been a year up-country; the cobwebs needed shaking off I took Namkia along.
He had never been farther than Silchar on one side and Kohima on the other, and was not in the least keen to risk more. When I happened to pass his compartment while the train was halted at Maibong he was sitting bolt upright and staring in front of him like a man heading for death. He bade farewell to the few stray Naga fruit-vendors on the platform almost with tears; he dared not look, I think at his receding hills, lest they unman him. But at Lumding, where we caught the Down Mail, he discovered a stall which sold palatable curry and cheered up.
Ursula Graham Bower Anthropologist, Calcutta, 1940
(source: pages 84 Ursula Graham Bower “Naga Path” Readers Union, John Murray. London 1952)
how pallid the woman was
As to myself, there as a party of Europeans dining in the Lumding refreshment room. They were the first white people I had seen for four months. I stared and stared – how odd, how knobbed and craggy they were, after the smooth Mongol faces; how pallid the woman was, like a plant left in the dark! How strange the usual seemed after the separation; I couldn’t stop looking, they must have thought I was mad. Oddly enough one only notices these things after the first spell away from one’s own kind; after that the gap seems to close, and one makes the transition without the same shock of surprise.
Ursula Graham Bower Anthropologist, Calcutta, 1940
(source: pages 84 Ursula Graham Bower “Naga Path” Readers Union, John Murray. London 1952)
SIGHTSEEING
Rubbernecking. The day's young - Are you in a mood for a little sightseeing to start things off? If you are, there are a number of ways to give this city and vicinity a fast once-over. Let's take them one by one.
Strolling Through. On you own, set off up through the Maidan. It is Calcutta's large, centrally located park that is flanked by a number of interesting buildings both public and private. Victoria Memorial is at the southern end of the park. And at the northwest extremity are the Government House and the Eden Gardens. These gardens offer a cool retreat during the heat of the day. Starting from the Maidan you can set off in any direction and find points of interest near at hand. Only remember: Memorial Park, in the Maidan, is "out-of-bounds" after sundowns.
(source: “The Calcutta Key” Services of Supply Base Section Two Division, Information and education Branch, United States Army Forces in India - Burma, 1945: at: http://cbi-theater-12.home.comcast.net/~cbi-theater-12/calcuttakey/calcutta_key.html)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
American Red Cross Daily Tours
There are a number of interesting sights to see in Calcutta that are not in-bounds except with official permission. And so, for this and for a number of other reasons, the most practical way to go sightseeing is to go on one of the daily tours arranged by the ARC E.M.'s Clubs. All reservations for these tours should be made early in the day at one of the two clubs, the Burra or the Cosmos (colored). For officers, tours are arranged at the Hindisthan Building. Red Cross guides. The following paragraphs will give you a glimpse of what you may expect to see:
ARC Tour 1 includes a stop at Gov't House, which was until 1912 the residence of the Governor General and Viceroy, and which is now the home of the Governor of Bengal. Considered the most beautiful residence in Calcutta. On to the Ochterlony Monument which is 165 feet high. Exactly 218 steps to the top. To Kalighat Temple where animals are sacrificed to the Goddess Kali whose body was alleged to have been broken into 51 pieces, and whose toe supposedly fell here at this temple. Pilgrims make offerings here. The Goddess herself is worth seeing. Also you can see the Champa Tree where Hindu women come to pray when they desire sons. And off you go to the Sikh Temple. The Sikhs are followers of the ten teachers called Gurus; they, the Sikhs, have a great reputation as fighting men; they also abolished the caste system for themselves. To the Victoria Memorial which was opened by Edward, Prince of Wales, in 1921 and which was built with funds subscribed by the princes and people of India. Building closed for the duration.
ARC Tour 2 includes a visit to the Black Hole of Calcutta whose story you already know. (You remember that in 1756 the Nawab of Bengal, Siraj-ud-dowls, attacked Calcutta and sacked the English Settlement. The story of the "Black Hole" in which was performed the amazing feat of squeezing 146 British men and women into a room in the Fort that measured only 22 feet by 14 feet, with only 23 persons surviving by the next morning, stands discredited today as a legend of the siege itself, which was real enough). On your way to the Nakhoda Mosque which is the largest Mohammedan mosque in Calcutta. (Excellent view of the city). To the Nimtalla Burning Ghats where the Hindus dispose of their dead by burning them in a sacred ceremony; the ashes are thrown into the sacred river, and the mourners go down river to purify themselves. Off to the Jain Temple which was erected in 1867. There is a lamp here which has been burning for 76 years. Then to the Temple to the Monkey God. Here you will see 24 Jain Gods. Jainism is the only one of the almost primeval monastic orders of India which has survived to the present day.
Other tours arranged by the ARC Clubs include river tours, a jute mill tour, and a visit to the Thieves Market. The Puri tour lasting for eight days and taking you to Puri, a nearby beach, is a darn good bet for E.M. and officers on furlough or leave. Recreation and sightseeing are planned for you; or you may spend the days lolling around. Suit yourself. For all particulars and for tour tickets call at, or write, the American Red Cross Burra Club, 8 Dalhousie Square.
(source: “The Calcutta Key” Services of Supply Base Section Two Division, Information and education Branch, United States Army Forces in India - Burma, 1945: at: http://cbi-theater-12.home.comcast.net/~cbi-theater-12/calcuttakey/calcutta_key.html)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
A typical day out in Calcutta
Of Calcutta city I well remember car journeys from Jagatdal past Mulajore power-station - the largest in India at that time - past Barrackpore and on to Chowringee. We used to shop at Calcutta's famous New- Market, where almost anything could be purchased, including the best bamboo fishing-rods , from shopping to lunch at Firpos well known restaurant overlooking the great maidan. After an excellent lunch of, usually, grilled Betki and mashed aloo, we would go to the 'bioscope' -the flicks at the Lighthouse cinema : l have, of course seen a number of Indian films including- 'Aag’ starring Raj Kapoor with plenty of noise and action ' After the 'flicks' we would return to Megna, passing through numerous bazzars from which floated many exotic smells and loud music - ' Duniya mai kon ke humera ?' - and such like songs ; all of which lent an air of mystery and excitement to those long past journeys.
Kenneth Miln, son of a ‘jute wallah’. Jagatdal/Calcutta, 1945-49
(source: Letter sent to us by Mr Kenneth Miln himself, July 2006/ Reproduced by courtesy of Kenneth Miln)
I had a couple of weeks' leave and I went
down to Calcutta
While
I was at Sylhet, I had a couple of weeks' leave and I went down to Calcutta.
Two mates of mine, Alf and Dickie, came with me and we were billeted in the
museum. This was in the main street of Calcutta, called Charingie. While I was
there, we were getting bitten so much by the bugs in the place that I got Dingy
fever, so I had a couple of days in bed. It cleared up and we were able to
carry on and go to the pictures, which were really nice out there, because they
were all air-conditioned and it was so hot in Calcutta. I always remember that
on one occasion we went to see 'Romeo and Juliet'. Obviously it wasn't our
taste of a picture and we made ourselves a bit of a nuisance what with,
'Wherefore art thou, Romeo?' and all the rest of it. 'Ssh, ssh', people went,
so we got up and walked out.
Kenneth Shaw
Prout, Army, Calcutta, 1944
(source: A5526489 Memories of a Bombardier 1940 - 1946 (Part 4) at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
A dash for Calcutta
While
we were in Rangoon it seemed an ideal opportunity to visit the Shwe Dagon
Pagoda, a vast temple complex in the centre of the city, and so one afternoon
some eight of us piled into a jeep and went there. The first surprise was that
the whole temple precincts were considered so holy that no boots or shoes were
allowed inside. As we had no wish or intention of upsetting the Burmese
religious sensibilities we complied with the instructions and put all of our
army boots in the jeep. One of our number, a Scottish Lieutenant whose name I
have forgotten, offered to stay outside and look after the jeep and boots,
which we thought was most civil of him.
It
was a most spectacular place, and the main pagoda was covered from top to
bottom in genuine gold leaf. The subsidiary temples were covered in the most
intricate woodcarvings altogether it made a fascinating afternoon. Eventually
we thought the time had come to make our way back and we returned to the
entrance. To our dismay the Lieutenant, the jeep and our boots were nowhere to
be seen. Worse still it had started to rain. After waiting disconsolately for
twenty minutes or so, the decision had to be made to walk back, in socks for
some, in bare feet for others, over hard gritty road and paths, two miles that
seemed twenty. Eventually we got back to the billets but of the jeep and boots
there was no sign. Later in the evening the mystery was solved by a telephone
from the RAF at Mingaladon Airfield who said that an army jeep was waiting for
collection, our missing one. Of the Scotsman there was no trace but we heard
later what happened. He was some years older than the rest of us, and was
married with a wife in Calcutta. Before the war he had been employed there in
the jute trade. While he was waiting outside the temple he had seen a RAF
officer who said he was flying back to Calcutta that afternoon, and would be
back in Rangoon the next day. The temptation to give his wife a surprise visit
proved to strong to resist and off he went. When he did return his popularity
was rock bottom.
William (Bill) Knight, Army, Rangoon, Summer 1945
(source: A5905235 Rangoon 1945 at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
A Quick City Break
Bengal United Service Club, Calcutta
29 July 1937
I shall have to be very quick about writing this letter as the Air Mail goes from the Club in half an hour. I found letters from you all awaiting me on my arrival here on the 27th, and another letter came yesterday. ...
I left Simla on Friday afternoon, and had a long, hot & dusty journey to Asansol which I reached early on Sunday morning. Chambers you may recall as one of my friends at Settlement Camp. He married last February, and this was my first meeting with his wife. She, like he, is Yorkshire — very pleasant and friendly, and intelligent and pretty into the bargain. So he's done well for himself. They both seemed very happy. A greater contrast between Asansol and Madaripur can hardly be imagined. Asansol is in the extreme west of Bengal, predominantly Hindu, with a scarcity of water, and a large European population owing to the mining and steel industries. It is one of the most coveted subdivisions, but is, by a very proper convention, practically reserved for young married S.D.O.s. I stayed there two days and laughed more during those two days than I have in the last 12 months!
Since coming to Calcutta, I've been pretty busy with shopping and one thing and another. I've just bought a gun - at long last - from Manton's, not a second-hand one, as their selection was a poor one, but a not-too-expensive new one of their own make. I don't see much prospect of using it, anyway till the cold weather.
Yesterday I dined with the Hoggs, and explained the prospects of the F & P to Hogg; so if, as I suggested in the last letter, I have to put in for winter leave at short notice, there should be no difficulty. This afternoon, I attended the historic occasion of the opening of the Legislature under the new Constitution. Sir John Anderson made a good & eminently constitutional speech. The Congress Members of the Legislature very rudely absented themselves.
This evening I'm having Maurice Curds to dinner at the Club. You will
remember that I saw his brother Gerald at Simla.
I leave for Madaripur tomorrow, & feel as fit as a fiddle. This holiday's been infinitely worth while.
W.H.Saumarez Smith, Subdivisional Officer in Madaripur (Faridpur District). Calcutta, 29 July 1937
(source pages 85-86 W.H.Saumarez Smith: “A Young Man’s Country” Salisbury: Michael Russel, 1977)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with W.H.Saumarez Smith)
… everybody thinking that this could be the
end for most of us
When
we moved on from there we all thought we were going start our chase southward towards
Rangoon, but much to our surprise we found ourselves at an airstrip, and we
were told that we were going to be flown out to Calcutta. There were several
Dakota Transport planes there {DC3} and before we had time to think much about
it, we were loaded onto the planes and we were on our way to Calcutta, and we
could look down on some of the terrain that we had trudged through. We landed
at Cal, and were transported by trucks to a camp on the outskirts of the City
called Bandel.
It
was great to be back in some sort of civilization, where we could have a
shower, and clean up in general. Then we were told that we were going to be in
a landing force to try to take Rangoon from the sea.
It
was the general feeling amongst the lads that this was going to be the end for
most of us. The Japs were retreating south from Mandalay towards Rangoon, so we
naturally thought we were going to be the anvil. We had a couple of days of
R& R in the city, which was pretty hectic, over indulging in food at the
restaurants, and Booze at the Honky-Tonks, everybody thinking that this could
be the end for most of us.
We
embarked on a small ship at some dock in Calcutta, and sailed across the Bay of
Bengal to Rangoon, on the trip we were preparing ourselves for a tough battle.
We spent most of the time planning, and making sure that all our equipment was
in good order, especially the weapons, and the ammunition.
As
we approached the shore it became obvious that that once more the enemy had
departed, and we landed and marched through the city without firing a single
shot.
Stan Martin, soldier,
Calcutta, September 1945
(source: A1982955 Stan Martin's WW2 story at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
so I went to Calcutta with Jack
I
was admitted to the 82 IGH (Indian General Hospital) with malaria and was there
from the 11th to the 22nd August. I was then given a few days leave so I went
to Calcutta with Jack. As all the leave camps were full, we stayed
with a friend of Jack's, who lived 13 miles from Calcutta. We had a good
break and I managed to buy some presents for my family.
George Philip Benbow (Phil) VAUGHAN, Army Staff Sergeant, Calcutta,
August 1944
(source: A6990069 "THE WAR DIARY OF A ROYAL ENGINEER WITH THE FORGOTTEN ARMY" (Part 2: 1 August 1944 to 1 June 1946) at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
What a madhouse that city was!
"SEAC" also advertised places in
India where one could go "on leave" and this set me off on my only
"leave" in India. In October 1944, with my friend Harry Birkinshaw, I
went to Bangalore, 3000ft up in the hills of South India. We stayed at a small,
comfortable hotel run by an Indian family, the food was good, and we lived like
civilians for two weeks. We played tennis, went swimming, toured the town and
its beautiful parks, we went to dances. Hiring bicycles, we explored the
surrounding country, the Lal Bagh terraced botanical gardens, and saw a
fabulous Maharaja's palace.
We
broke journeys there and back for half day visits to Calcutta. What a madhouse
that city was! The huge Howrah Station was crowded with people, many natives
seemed to be actually living - and cooking - on the platforms and in the
entrance hall. Crossing the massive steel suspension Howrah Bridge, we found
the streets just one mass of people, the roadways chock-a-block with
pedestrians, rickshaws, bicycles, cows, and the ubiquitous beggars every few
yards. That was as far as we got, we were not sorry to leave behind Calcutta
and its teeming millions.
Cecil John
Callis, , Calcutta, October 1944
(source: A4428371 1941-1945 Eastern Travels Part 9 at BBC WW2 People's War' on http://www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar/ Oct 2006)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sightseeing
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
Taj Mahal
Richard Beard, US Army Lieutenant Psychologist with 142 US military hospital. Calcutta,
(Source: Elaine Pinkerton / Reproduced by courtesy of Elaine Pinkerton)
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
See it if you have the opportunity
Some distance up the Ganges from Calcutta is the holy city of Benares where thousands of pilgrims go each year to bathe in the sacred waters. Further up is Agra, famous for the Taj Mahal. This exquisite structure, made of white marble is one of the architectural wonders of the world. Thousands of tourists visit it every year in peacetime. See it if you have the opportunity. Especially, see it by moonlight.
(source: “A Pocket Guide to India” Special Service Division, Army Service Forces, United States Army. War and Navy Departments Washington D.C [early 1940s]: at: http://cbi-theater-2.home.comcast.net/booklet/guide-to-india.html)
(COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Reproduced under 'fair dealing' terms as part of a non commercial educational research project. The copyright remains with the original submitter/author)
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Home Leave
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
Problems going on Leave
Letter from
Writers’ Building to Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart, I.C.S. (Indian Civil Service)
District Magistrate 24 Parganas, Calcutta,7th March 1945
(source: personal
scrapbook kept by Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart
O.B.E., I.C.S. seen on
20-Dec-2005 / Reproduced by courtesy of
Mrs. Malcolm Moncrieff Stuart)
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the Hunt
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Other Trips
_____Pictures of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
_____Contemporary Records of or about 1940s Calcutta___
_____Memories of 1940s Calcutta_________________________
Aunty Dulcie
Every year we used to go to Lahore for a month to visit my Aunty Dulcie. By this time she, Aunty Dulcie, had three children. Bobby was the eldest being about two years older than me. Then there was David and then she had another boy called St. John and whilst she was in hospital after his birth, she found an abandoned baby girl on the terrace of the hospital. They suspected the child was an Afghan woman's child. Many Moslem women felt inadequate if they produced a girl first instead of a son and heir for their husbands or of course, it could have been an illegitimate child. Whatever the reason, this was like an answer to a prayer for Aunty Dulcie who had always wanted a daughter and in fact, she and Aunty Dolly used to have arguments about me - she too would have liked to have me- I always liked Aunty Dulcie though she was not too popular being extremely outspoken. I, however, having my share of Sagittarian outspokenness always found her refreshing. Anyway - she adopted the child and called her Leslie although she was nicknamed Midget and we never called her anything else. She was a lovely child with a very white skin and inky black eyes and hair. Although a bonny baby, she grew up into a very slim girl and was more devoted to Aunty Dulcie than either of her own children - something which I think often happens with adopted children. I don't think Midget ever knew she was adopted. Bobby obviously knew and I did because I tend to remember everything - like the elephant.
Aunty Dulcie too had a lovely home in The Mall in Lahore and she was friendly with two particular familes that I remember. One of them was the owner of a night club called Stiffles and had two little girls. The only time I ever got a wallopping from Aunty Dolly was for sneaking off and playing with these girls, I think it was because we were playing on a railway line that we all got into trouble and I got paddled with the hairbrush on my backside.
On one of our visits to Lahore, Aunty Dulcie had a broken ankle and since Lahore is very far from the sea, the summers are sweltering and winters freezing. It was summer this time and we all used to sleep on the flat roof of the house which was called the Terrace.
Aunty Dolly and Marie used to act as crutches for Aunty Dulcie and help her get to the terrace. One night Aunty Dulcie saw some soldiers passing and she put her two fingers in her mouth and emitted a loud whistle, then hid behind Aunty Dolly and Marie so the soldiers thought one of them had whistled and shouted up to them with some laughing remark. They did not think it was funny – Aunty Dolly particularly as she was very strait laced but Aunty Dulde laughed until the tears ran down her face.
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. Ranchi, mid 1940s
(source: page 19-20 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
First Class and
‘Kellners’
The
journey to Lahore took two days and two nights on a train. In India, the trains
were very comfortable if one travelled first class as of course, we did. We
used to have a compartment reserved for us. There was a firm called Kellners
with a chain of restaurants at every major railway station and the stewards
used to come and take orders at one station and somehow these were relayed to
the next stop and full meals would be served to us at the time ordered. The
distances are so vast in India that it is probably difficult for people who
have always lived in a small country like Britain to comprehend. It all seems
like a faraway dream now. To go to Sialkot (my Uncle's home town, we changed at
Lahore after travelling two days and two nights and travelled for a further day
and a night).
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. On the train to Lahore mid 1940s
(source: page 20 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
Visiting the Uberois in Sialkot
We also used to visit a family called Uberoi who were very wealthy Hindu Punjabis but still great friends of Uncle Hamid although he was a Muslim. They had vast estates in Sialkot – the small town from which Hamid came and Mrs Uberoi was a high society lady who often had her picture in Look Magazine and other glossies- She owned racehorses and visited Europe often. They had three children - two girls called Munna and Shiela who were contempories of Marie and Ida and one son - much younger – about a year older than me. Unfortunately, the boy was not all there and I never knew his name. We always called him Googoo and as children will - sometimes made fun of him. He loved my sister Winnie and so she went to live with Uberois because they would provide their son with anything he wanted.
Winnie had been with them for about a year when we went to Sialkot for our holiday. It was January and Sialkot in January is bitterly cold. It did not get light until about 10 a.m. and then was dark again around 4 p.m. We lived in a house there which was set in the middle of an estate. It was about one mile to the gate and the Punjab having acute water shortage, at the gate there was an irrigation well which is a contraption whereby a large water wheel had tins fitted to its circumference. The wheel is turned by bullocks and in turning lifts water out of the well which is then diverted into the fields through channels. We used to love going for a ride on the Khu as it was called and the boy who used to drive the bullocks usually allowed us to do this. Our days were spent rambling on the estate, picking fruit of the trees or pulling carrots and radishes out of the fields, I struck up a friendship with a woman who lived outside our gates. She was in fact an Anglo-Indian but had married an Indian and learned to live their way so she cooked delicious unleavened bread and meat and spinach curry which is a very popular dish in the Punjab. I used to spend hours with her - just chatting and ever since then, meat and spinach has been one of my favourite curries.
Elizabeth James (nee Shah), AngloIndian schoolgirl. Ranchi, mid 1940s
(source: page 20-21 Elizabeth James: An Anglo Indian Tale: The Betrayal of Innocence. Delhi: Originals, 2004 / Reproduced by courtesy of Elizabeth James (nee Shah))
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Home ● Sitemap ● Reference ● Last updated: 03-October-2009
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If there are any technical
problems, factual inaccuracies or things you have to add,
then please contact the group
under info@calcutta1940s.org