Today, army children are generally either driven, transported by hovercraft, catamaran or ferry or flown to their new or current home (and most regard 'home' as being wherever it is that their parents are living rather than a specific house, village, town or even country), yet it was very different centuries ago. When on land, families once limped behind their soldier fathers on foot, be it straggling at the end of a column of military men on the campaign trail or as part of the baggage train. But if exposure to the elements, hunger and the myriad dangers of life on the road, and sometimes in hostile territory, was testimony to the tough life of many an army child during the early nineteenth century, worse fates frequently awaited them aboard troopships bearing them to such far-flung destinations as India. Indeed, if they weren't shipwrecked or killed by an infectious disease spread by the cramped, unsanitary conditions below deck, scurvy and other conditions caused by malnutrition or poor hygiene would put their health in great jeopardy. In short, if sea sickness was all that they suffered during the months that they spent onboard, then they were lucky.
Women and children being given free warm clothing aboard a troopship (an illustration published in The Graphic of 3 August 1889). And these were the fortunate ones, the ones who were privileged to be 'children of the regiment' rather than those 'off the strength', whose abandoned mothers literally had to fend for themselves and their brood when their husbands and fathers were redeployed.
Towards the end of the nineteenth century, the introduction of railways began to make being on the move safer and considerably more comfortable. And by the 1970s, the British Army was even chartering aeroplanes, so-called 'lollipop specials', to fly boarding-school-based army children from Britain 'home', to their families' married quarters in Germany, for the holidays.
PICTURES: ARMY WIVES AND CHILDREN ON THE MARCH ("TOMMY ATKINS" MARRIED – PAST AND PRESENT, 1884)
The images reproduced below are details taken from "Tommy Atkins" Married – Past and Present, a print that was published in The Graphic on 12 January 1884 (click here to see it). Entitled 'Soldiers' Wives on the March Before the Days of Railways' (above) and 'A Married Soldier on the March in India' (below), both illustrate the basic ways in which soldiers' wives and children were once transported when allowed to accompany their husbands and fathers from posting to posting during the nineteenth century (and earlier).
Above: 'Soldiers' Wives on the March Before the Days of Railways'.
PICTURE: 'LIFE ON BOARD A TROOP-SHIP: DINNER-TIME'
The illustration below, specified as being from a sketch made on board the troopship the HMS Himalaya by Major W O Carlile, of the Royal Artillery, appeared in the 6 December 1873 issue of The Illustrated London News. The text that accompanied it described how fifteen to twenty men would sit down at each mess-table to eat at noon every day, when 'the soldiers behave with their usual gallantry and courage, let the weather be smooth or rough'. 'Where the wives and children of soldiers are on board, the scene at their dinner-time is much less agreeable', the piece continued disapprovingly. 'They are too commonly huddled together in a close atmosphere below, rendered more unpleasant and unwholesome by the want of convenience for washing. While many are sick, others are crying or squabbling, and the voyage is a severe trial to them. A few kind husbands will come down to look after the comforts of their wives and babes. Such men, it is said, are invariably found the bravest soldiers in the field of battle, the most patient and constant in a fatiguing march.'
For another illustration from the same issue of The Illustrated London News, see below: 'PICTURE: 'LIFE ON BOARD A TROOP-SHIP: "COMMENCE FIRING"''.
PICTURE: 'LIFE ON BOARD A TROOP-SHIP: "COMMENCE FIRING"'
One of the illustrations based on sketches by Major W O Carlile, of the Royal Artillery, that were published in the 6 December 1873 issue of The Illustrated London News (for another, see 'PICTURE: 'LIFE ON BOARD A TROOP-SHIP: DINNER-TIME'' above) depicts a riotous scene witnessed by a few startled-looking army children.
The caption explains the illustration's title: 'Smoking tobacco is allowed at meal-hours – breakfast, dinner, and supper – and after the evening inspection, till a quarter to eight o'clock, when all pipes must be extinguished. The only lawful place for the men smoking is on the upper deck before the mainmast; officers smoke near the mizenmast. The signal for lighting pipes is facetiously called "Commence firing!" and it is given by a blast of the bugle, after the evening inspection'. The troopship depicted is the HMS Himalaya, an iron screw steamer that was launched in 1853 and that served as troopship until 1895, when she was converted to a coaling hulk. She was sunk in 1940 in Portland harbour, Dorset, during a German bombing raid.
PICTURES: CONDITIONS FOR NINETEENTH-CENTURY ARMY FAMILIES ABOARD TROOPSHIPS ("TOMMY ATKINS" MARRIED – PAST AND PRESENT, 1884)
Shown below are three details from a composite print entitled "Tommy Atkins" Married – Past and Present, which was first published in The Graphic on 12 January 1884 (to see it, click here). Intended to contrast conditions aboard troopships for those army wives and children who were permitted to accompany their soldier menfolk on overseas postings (to India, for example) before and after improvements had been made during the second half of the nineteenth century, the first, 'before' image presents a cramped and desperate picture. Although the second and third, 'after' images give the impression of the women and children enjoying spacious and orderly living and eating quarters, the reality would no doubt still have been crowded and uncomfortable.
Above: 'Quarters for Married Soldiers Going to India in the Old Days'.
Below: 'Women’s and Children's Quarters on a Modern Troop-Ship'.
PICTURE: 'PERFECT LITTLE DEVILS'
This illustration appeared in The Graphic newspaper on 29 October 1887. It is captioned 'Children's tug of war on a homeward-bound troopship, boys versus girls'.
Commenting on the behaviour of army children travelling aboard the steamer Ottawa from Bombay (now Mumbai), India, to England in 1858, a certain Major Bayley observed: '. . . heaven forbid that I should ever again find myself on board ship in company with children brought up in India. They were perfect little devils; and for the first day or two we had a fine time of it, as many of the passengers were cripples and unable to move after them . . .' (Bt-Maj J A Bayley, Reminiscences of School and Army Life, 1839-1859, London, 1875, quoted in Richard Holmes, Sahib: The British Soldier in India, 1750-1914, HarperCollins Publishers, London, 2005, p.98).
PICTURE: CHRISTMAS DINNER ON A TROOPSHIP, 1889
This sketch of some excited army children being served Christmas dinner at sea was made from a drawing by G Durand depicting a scene observed on a homeward-bound troopship (which had presumably set sail from India, given the presence of the ayah in the foreground). It was first published in the Christmas edition of The Graphic in 1889.
PERSONAL STORY: CROSSING THE PACIFIC, 1930
Mairi Paterson and her mother and brother had sailed in May 1928 from Liverpool to Jamaica to join her father, who was serving with the 2nd Battalion, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. (To read Mairi's description of the two years that she spent in Jamaica, click here: 'PERSONAL STORY: 'IT WAS A MAGICAL PLACE, WITH PALM TREES AND COFFEE PLANTATIONS', JAMAICA, 1928–30'.) In the following instalment of her account of growing up as an army child between 1921 and 1938, Mairi recalls crossing the Pacific aboard a troopship in 1930, on the journey from Jamaica to her father's next posting in Wei-Hai-Wei (or Weihai), north-eastern China. As Mairi notes, the ship's passengers were the first British troops ever to pass through the Panama Canal, and to dock in Honolulu. (Click here to read the next part of Mairi's story, telling of her two years in Wei-Hai-Wei: 'PERSONAL STORY: 'I AM GLAD THAT I CAN REMEMBER WEIHAI AS IT WAS EIGHTY YEARS AGO''.)
'The next stage of the battalion's "tour of overseas duty" took us a very long way. We were now posted to northern China. After a hectic period of packing and saying goodbye to the friends we had made (a constant of being an army brat), we boarded a rather elderly troopship, the City of Marseilles, of the Ellerman City Line. It was very overcrowded, with a whole battalion, plus wives and children, on board, and we children became very adept at utilising any space we could find for games.
Going through the Panama Canal was one of the most memorable events. I can still remember standing on the deck and looking down at the people on the docks. We were so close that we could see their expressions and return their waves. We were the first British troops to pass through the canal, and this generated a lot of interest.
At last we saw the Pacific stretching ahead of us and started on the long voyage. It lasted more than five weeks, and gave me an abiding love of being on board a ship. Two incidents broke the routine of shipboard life. The first was reaching Hawaii and docking in Honolulu for three days. Again, we were the first British troops to visit, and were given a civic welcome. The battalion, led by the pipe band, marched through the streets to cheering crowds; local residents, particularly expatriates, entertained us every day. I remember visiting a pineapple farm and watching hula dancers on Waikiki Beach. The second incident occurred when we crossed the Date Line: Neptune, complete with wild white hair, a long white beard and a trident, came on board and, after a great deal of horseplay, gave us permission to proceed.
Eventually, we arrived in Shanghai, and were told that C Company, our company, was to be put ashore at Wei-Hai-Wei, on the tip of the Shantung [or Shandong] Peninsula, while the rest of the battalion went further north, to Tientsin [or Tianjin]. Britain had leased a strip of land, 3 miles deep and 10 miles long, on which were stored tanks of water and fuel and godowns [warehouses] holding stores of food, medical supplies, etc. Every summer, the rather grandly titled British Fleet in China Waters came north for manoeuvres, mainly off the coast of Korea, then part of communist Russia. C Company's job was to look after these supplies.
The little village of Wei-Hai-Wei, with only four shops, followed the crescent shape of the harbour, looking across at the island that made it so sheltered. The ground rose at each end, and there was a larger building on each point. One looked very closed, with shutters over the windows, but the other, more Chinese in style, was occupied. Our camp was behind the village, and, further back, the hillside rose quite steeply to a gap between two large rocks, beyond which we were not allowed to go. At that time, the north had a communist government, with the capital in Peking [Beijing], while the south was ruled by Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist Party, with Nanking [Nanjing] as the capital. In between were the notorious warlords.'
Mairi Paterson (née Campbell, b.1921).
PERSONAL STORY: 'MALTA SEEMED VERY EXOTIC TO ME'
Mick Kiernan attended Queen Elizabeth II Coronation School, a school for forces' children, after his father, a clerk of works, was posted to Benghazi, in Libya, in 1951, when Mick was twelve. (To read more about Mick's schooldays in Benghazi, click here; and for how he spent his leisure time in Libya, click here.) The Kiernan family remained in Libya until 1955, and was so closely integrated into the British military community that Mick might as well have been an army child. Here, he describes stopping over in Malta in 1951, en route from his hometown of Colchester to his new home in Benghazi.
'From Nice, we completed the second leg of the journey to Luqa airport on the island of Malta GC. I remember the heat that hit us upon leaving the plane and the smell in the air as we walked down the steps to the runway. This was our introduction to the Middle East, and from here on almost everything would be very different to the way of life that we had been used to in England.
We were taken by bus to Imtarfa, which, at that time, was a transit camp for military and civilian personnel, and here we stayed for a week before the voyage to Tobruk in Libya. Imtarfa was sited on one of the highest points of Malta, and from here we could see the island laid out before us in all directions, showing its clusters of villages and towns, with their flat-roofed, sandstone buildings and tall, majestic churches. Beyond these built-up areas, the farmland had been built up into terraces to prevent the soil from being washed away down the hills when the rains came. It was all quite different to the England that I had been growing up in. Here, the people still used horse-drawn carriages, and some of the older women wore the traditional black hood and cape called a faldetta. Their language was unlike anything that I had heard before, and conversations were held in what to me sounded like loud and aggressive voices. I felt that at any moment a fight would begin.
Below: The barracks at Imtarfa.
Malta seemed very exotic to me. The England that we had left behind still had rationing for most things, but here on Malta, nothing was rationed. Shops were full of sweets and all kinds of goodies, including tinned peaches, which I had previously tasted only at Christmas. On a visit to Valletta, I bought a large tin of peaches, which I ate once back in our room in Imtarfa, and spent the night feeling quite sick. (It was worth it, though!) There was a clock tower in the camp, which rang the hours day and night, so nobody got a complete night's sleep.
Our days passed with journeys to Valletta on the brightly coloured Maltese buses, with their shrines to the Virgin Mary or Jesus located next to the driver. When getting on or off the bus, the Maltese would cross themselves to ensure a safe ride or thanks for a safe trip completed. During one of our shopping trips to Valletta, my mother bought me a straw hat to wear when we arrived in North Africa. I think that in her mind we were off to the Dark Continent, where I might get sunstroke if my head were exposed to the hot sun.
One day, we walked the 3 or 4 miles from Imtarfa to nearby Rabat, where we took a guided tour of the catacombs in which the early Christians were entombed. It was very creepy. Our guide was a cadaverous old man who smelled very strongly of garlic, which was impossible to avoid in the confined, underground spaces. He took delight in relating the story of a young girl who refused to submit to a Turk, who then had the girl's breasts cut off. There was a picture of the breasts on a tray, which both shocked and fascinated me. After this, we walked to the nearby gateway and entered the ancient, silent city of Mdina, where we explored the narrow streets and visited the cathedral. As a Catholic, I found the churches fascinating, and very impressive, with their ornate stonework and brightly decorated interiors – quite unlike the rather conservative churches in England.
At the end of our week's stay on Malta, we travelled across the island by army bus to the Grand Harbour, where we boarded a Royal Navy corvette for the voyage that would take us some 300 miles to the port of Tobruk. My only recollections of this trip are of being on deck in the hot sun looking out for dolphins and flying fish, and then, at night, of bedding down in a very hot, tiny cabin. When we arrived in Tobruk, the town still showed signs of the siege during World War II, when Allied forces were holding off Rommel's Afrikakorps. There were many wrecked ships in the harbour, and few buildings left standing in the town. Here, we met up with my father, who had travelled the 300 or so miles from Benghazi to meet us. To my relief, he quickly discarded my straw hat before we got on to the bus for the journey to our new home.'
Mick Kiernan (b.1939).
PICTURES: KING ALFRED SCHOOL (KAS) TRAINS
Thanks to Peter Watson for providing TACA with these three images of trains that transported the pupils of King Alfred School (KAS) to and from Plön (or Ploen) at the beginning and end of each term. As Peter comments, 'the fictitious St Trinian's/Hogwarts' expresses were a mere shadow compared to the realities of the BAOR school trains'. For more information on this boarding school in Germany, and for further details of the trains that served it, see TACA's 'SCHOOLING' page, and particularly Peter's piece, 'BACKGROUND INFORMATION: BAOR SECONDARY SCHOOLS AND SPECIAL TRAINS'.
Above and below: The KAS school train departs from Plön at the start of the Easter 1956 school holidays. (Photo courtesy of the KAS Wyvern Club/Mr John Lowe.)
Below: The KAS school train leaves Plön at the end of the 1955 summer term. (Photo courtesy of the KAS Wyvern Club/HQ BAOR Public Relations.)
PERSONAL STORY: FROM BRITAIN TO GERMANY, VIA KENYA
This army child's story begins when she was around two years old:
'Father joined the army [the Royal Artillery] after his war service and was posted to Korea in early 1952. At that time, we all lived in Portsmouth, mother's home town, and my brother was born there in 1952. From Korea, without coming home, my father was posted to Hong Kong and Malaya and returned home in 1955. We left Portsmouth to be posted to Mile End Camp, Oswestry, where my youngest sister was born. From there, we all went to Kimnel Camp, Rhyl, and then to private hirings in Market Lavington, near Devizes, while my father's regiment was at Netheravon. In 1961, he joined 3 RHA [Royal Horse Artillery], having heard that they were going to Malaya, but they were posted to Kenya instead.
Upon reaching Mombasa, we travelled by train (overnight and hot) to Gilgil, about 50 miles from Nairobi. Because I was of secondary age, I had to board, either in Kenya or the UK. My first school, Nakuru Girls High, wasn't bad once I got used to it, but closed down and we then had to go to The Highlands, Eldoret, where I did not have a happy time. The highlight of terms there was the sight of the army bus coming to take us back to Gilgil.
We spent three years in Kenya, coming back after independence, and after a short time in the UK, where I took my exams, we were posted to Detmold, in Germany. I took a job as a nanny, having few qualifications (i.e., no German and no typing skills), but was able to go with my surrogate family to the USA. During that time, my father left the army.'
Margaret Cleeve (b.1948).
PICTURE: THE MV FREE ENTERPRISE VIII
Many army children crossed the Strait of Dover with their families on the MV Free Enterprise VIII between 1974 and 1987, generally en route to (West) German or British postings, or to boarding school. Owned by Townsend Thoreson, this passenger ferry carried road vehicles, as well as foot passengers, between the ports of Dover, Kent, and Zeebrugge, Belgium. The MV Free Enterprise VIII is pictured outside Dover below, in a postcard dating from the 1970s.
LINKS
The following links relating to the transportation of army children may be of interest.
- To browse through an informative picture gallery of troopships, visit: http://www.britisharmedforces.org/pages/nat_troopships.htm.
- For Peter Watson's outline of the routes taken by the special trains that took pupils to and from Prince Rupert School (PRS), Wilhelmshaven, and King Albert School (KAS), Plön, as well as for the travel arrangements made for those who attended the Windsor schools in Hamm (all BFES secondary boarding schools in West Germany) during the Cold War era, go to TACA's 'SCHOOLING' page.
TACA TRAVEL ALBUM: BY SEA
