In 1947 1 served for a few months in 800 coy. A.D. in the Gaza area of Palestine based at Greek Camp, I believe. Prior to this I had been a platoon commander in 47/48 coy. R.A.S.C., part of 3 Infantry Division, and was posted to 800 Coy. which was at this time carrying out the duties of G.T. Coy.
During my
short stay with this unit, I made some good friends including the late Bruce
Cameron (Capt.), and an infantry officer, Lt Phil Curtis (left), attached
to us from the Lincolns. Phil and I spent many evenings listening to records
played on an old windup portable gramophone — his favourites ‘Peter
and the Wolf’ and ‘Carnival of the Animals’ — mine
Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman.
About this time, whilst on duty as orderly officer, I was checking the armoury when I noticed a locked door and asked the armourer what lay behind. He said, “some old stores — explosives”. When I got the key and stepped inside a very small room, not much bigger than a large cupboard, I found it stacked from floor to ceiling with 2 lb slabs of gun cotton all in a very “weepy” state!
When the O.C. Company read my report, he made a very strange decision, I thought — as I had been in the R.E. as a sapper prior to being commissioned in the R.A.S.C. I should, the very next day, “get rid of it all”, as he put it! This was to be a solo effort and I may say I knew the risks involved in moving these dangerously deteriorated slabs. So I prepared a 3 tonner with tyres nearly deflated and had half the camp evacuated to what I assumed was a safe distance and began loading the vehicle — a slow laborious process entailing stacking about 8 or 10 slabs at the edge just clear of the tailboard and then hopping up to move them further back. Just as I thought, “this is going to take forever”, a voice beside me said, “ you stack and I’ll load, I’m taller than you” — it was Curtis, who said “ you didn’t think I’d let you do it all on your own did you?” All loaded and he carrying a box of detonators and primers plus some Cordtex — detonating fuse, we set off with me driving very slowly and Phil walking ahead searching for any bumps or holes to avoid — and so we reached the nearby emergency landing strip (just baked earth and sand) with some ancient mud walled ruins at the far end. It was an obvious site for us to set up a demolition — which we did with relish, connecting up charges around the ruins with a ring main of Cordtex. I cut a suitable length of orange slow burning fuse and had the sight of Curtis taking a bit more off with a cheeky grin as he applied the glowing end of his thin black cheroot to the now rather short fuse — we set off with me counting each step aloud until I hollered “DOWN!” — just in time. As it was we were showered with some quite large pieces of debris, but it was all gone!
Returning to camp found normal routine had also returned — I don't think anyone remarked on the nice big bang!
What a good chap Phil Curtis was, and what a shock it was when, five years later, I lifted the ‘Daily Mail’ and saw his face taking up half the front page — ‘Curtis V.C.’, posthumously awarded for bravery in action at the Imjin River in Korea whilst serving with the “Glosters” on the epic retreat. He was attached to them from the D.C.L.I. We in the R.A.S.C. family and the A.D. in particular should be proud to have had a young officer and comrade of his calibre with us. I know I am proud and grateful to have known him.
As a footnote, may I add that his little daughter received the medal from H.M. The queen, her mother having died giving birth. On a lighter note, we found the “mud ruins” were part of local history, perhaps with connections to Samson himself!