Chapter XIV: Army Education Corps
1943 was the year when the Germans were at last being rolled back, especially by the Russians. The British and the Americans decided to keep pushing the Germans back in N Africa, and then to invade Italy and then during that year to accumulate forces for a landing in Northern France. This did not please Stalin, as he wanted the British and the Americans to open a Second Front without delay. Nevertheless it was obvious by now that the Germans were losing the War.
Soon after my interview in the War Office I received an Army order to report at an A.E.C. training centre in Wakefield. The Centre was a spacious and comparatively new building on the opposite side of the road to the notorious Wakefield Prison. But there was no prison atmosphere in the Centre; indeed there was very little Army atmosphere there. All the officers were well-educated, cultured, and friendly. The routine of the day was more like that of a college than of an Army barracks.
Breakfast, and that a very appetising one, was served at a reasonable hour of the morning. Then followed for the first few days lectures and seminars. After we had been instructed on how to take charge of a discussion group, we had what we would call in college a practical lecture, that is, we each in turn, about twenty-five of us, would prepare a topic for discussion and would then, before the critical eye of the tutor, conduct a discussion group.
It was interesting to notice the different tactics adopted by the trainees. Some would take very much to heart the advice to make full use of audio-visual aids and to simplify the approach to the topic. One of the trainees, who were not all trained teachers, made very elaborate preparations such as producing a hand-case full of bank notes of various denominations (it was a mystery to me where he had them!), and he so over-simplified his approach to the subject-matter that the demonstration became more of a source of amusement than of real interest and educational value.
I have no recollection of how I performed in my practical lecture, but, if I followed my usual inclination and school practices, I must have used the minimum of audio-visual aids. However, before the end of the course we were shown how to make use of illustrations and maps, and, more especially, how to use a film projector. We were taught the method of lacing a film in the projector, a process which did not always prove successful in my later use of a projector. Many of the films had been extensively used so that the holes fitting into the cogs were often broken and so resulting in the film jumping and having to be relaced. It was then that I could sympathise with the projectionists in local cinemas in the old days when there were frequent stoppages accompanied by howls and groans from the auditorium.
In addition to discussion groups we had play-readings, cinema shows, readings of episodes from books, and also sketches made up by the trainees themselves. It seemed that the purpose of all this was not only to educate the soldiers but also to entertain and to interest them in literature and art. I should think that the non-discussion side of the training was to help us to help soldiers in convalescent hospitals to entertain themselves and to avoid boredom.
At the end of the course there were anxious and eager looks at the Notice Board to see whether the postings had been put up. When they did appear it was obvious that my goddess Fortuna had once more favoured me. Several were posted to stations in remote parts of Scotland, but my name was down for the most favoured station in the south of England - Reading, a pleasant town in beautiful country in the Thames valley. But the posting suited me more because it was on the main line to S. Wales and so Llandeilo was within reach for a forty-eight hours leave.
After a happy seven days’ leave I set out for Reading, once more to the unknown with slight feelings of anxiety. But after arriving at the Army Education Office in a large private house on the outskirts of Reading, my feeling of anxiety soon vanished.
There were only two working in the Office, a Second Lieutenant and a Warrant Officer, while I was now a full sergeant, actually the lowest rank in the A.E.C. The Warrant Officer was really better qualified educationally than the Lieutenant. He was a First Class Honours Cambridge man. His name was Ralph Tonbridge - an uninhibited Yorkshire man with a strong sense of humour and no traces of an Oxbridge accent. The Lieutenant could not have made a deep impression on me as I just cannot remember his name. However I remember that he was the proud owner of a Ford Popular and, in spite of petrol rations, could take advantage of a liberal supply of Army petrol. So we used it frequently for transport. He was pleasant company, quite conscientious but never succumbing to panic in awkward situations.
My work consisted mainly of visits to Military Convalescent Hospitals to hold discussion groups. These Hospitals were really stately homes in the Reading area, parts of which had been commandeered to house groups of convalescing soldiers. In most of these the Commandant was the owner of the mansion. These mansions were located near Henley, Wargrave, Englefield, Newbury and Ascot. A whole morning or sometimes afternoon was spent visiting these places. My transport was the local buses, but most of these Hospitals were quite a distance from the nearest bus stop.
The hospital where I was given the best welcome and the best treatment was Gillots Hospital near Henley. The Commandant would meet me in her pick-up on Henley Square, and when we arrived at Gillots she would chivvy up her group of reluctant participants in the discussion group; she would chase them from all corners of the building, even from the toilets. A comment I heard from one of the soldiers was, ‘The weekly drip again!’.
Although such tactics produced a full group for the discussion, it was hardly conducive to producing members who were happy to take an active part in the discussion. So first of all the ice had to be broken, and the tactic adopted was to disperse with a long introduction and to draw them to reply to questions and even to encourage them to attack my propositions. The subject-matter for these discussions was provided in the Army publications, ABCA (Army Bureau of Current Affairs) and British Way and Purpose. Although the subjects were really government propaganda they had a general appeal even to the common soldiers; subjects like Butler’s Education Act, Family Allowances, and the Beveridge Report. It has been claimed that such Reforms and such discussions helped the country at the end of the war to veer to the Left in Politics.
I did not receive the same V.I.P. treatment in Cayton Park near Wargrave. From the bus stop on the main road the walk to Cayton Park must have been at least three-quarters of a mile. In fine weather it was a pleasant walk through beautiful countryside, but far from pleasant in rainy weather. However the small group in Cayton Park was usually more welcoming and receptive, and the discussions, from my point of view, were lively and interesting. Sometimes in the groups in the various hospitals you would find that there were some highly educated members; not all highly-educated soldiers had ambitions to become officers!
By far the most imposing Stately Home that I visited regularly every week was Englefield, about half way from Reading to Newbury. The convalescing soldiers seemed to be in the lap of luxury there, being able to roam around in palatial surroundings. There was no attempt there to dragoon the soldiers into joining the discussion group. So on the whole those that turned up seemed to be genuinely interested, or perhaps they were glad to have some relief from a boring daily routine.
There were two Hospitals in or near Newbury, but my recollections of these are rather vague. Another interesting place I visited was Ascot Racecourse. Although I cannot remember what kind of group I met there I well remember being shown to the Agha Khan’s Box, not that there was anything out of the ordinary to be seen there. That was to be expected as the Racecourse was closed during the War.
There were single occasions when I was asked to take a discussion group in a regular Army unit in the area. One of those occasions stands out vividly in my memory because instead of being confronted by the usual small and manageable group I had before me at least two hundred soldiers gathered into a large Nissan hut.
It was on a wet and miserable afternoon and so the officers-in-charge had decided to bring in their squads to have for them an easy afternoon. This was in the R.E.M.E. depot in Arborfield. So I had to deliver a lecture for about three-quarters of an hour and then encourage questions from my audience, a method that I had not adopted before. It was quite an ordeal. The topic was the government proposal to introduce a system of family allowance. The majority of the soldiers, of course, approved of the proposal, but the row of young officers at the back of the hut were loud in their condemnation of such a scheme - it would discourage self-help and diligence and encourage laziness and lack of self-reliance. Although my worst fears at the beginning were not realised, I felt very relieved when the officers decided that their men had to leave to some duty or other.
In the popular television serial ‘Jewel in the Crown’ Major Merrick asked Sergeant Perron in which regiment he served. The reply was ‘The Army Education Corps’, to which Major Merrick’s response was,’ How do you educate an Army?’. I often asked myself, especially after facing a dim-witted and unintelligent group, ‘Wouldn’t it be better for the country if I were continuing to teach pupils who were receptive and intelligent enough to benefit from my teaching?’ Here I was, really, doing the work of a civilian, and, what is more, living the life of a civilian in civilian lodgings and having quite a lot of time in the evenings and during the weekends to mix with civilians who had had a background similar to mine and who were prepared to welcome me to their comfortable homes.
My civilian lodgings were in a small terraced house near Caversham Bridge, a very pleasant area where there were interesting walks beside the Thames. I shared a room with a young factory girl who was on national service. The food was the usual fare provided in such lodgings, but it was adequate and palatable in spite of the rations. One custom with which I was not familiar was the regular visit to a nearby pub at midday on Sunday. The landlord and landlady would invite the girl and myself to join them in imbibing a pint before returning for a late Sunday dinner.
There were many other activities carried out by the staff of three, usually in the evenings. One was the showing of films in the different hospitals and sometimes in Toc H in the centre of the town, a favourite meeting place for soldiers of various units. The films were borrowed on a weekly basis from the Film Institute in London. It was my job to collect these films every Wednesday afternoon, another job that could easily have been carried out by a civilian! However it was a very relaxing kind of afternoon for me; a quiet trip in the train from Reading to London and then to the Film Institute to choose a film which I thought would be suitable for showing, mainly documentary films which were informative but interesting enough to capture the attention of any kind of audience.
These film shows always attracted a sizeable audience, although the equipment was very amateurish and the projectionist even more amateurish! I have already said that we had been given instruction in our initial course in Wakefield, but such instruction had not taken into consideration the many little hitches that could occur. First of all, many a time I had brought the wrong type of plug for the socket in use. The film borrowed from the Film Institute was often one that had been used frequently and had probably been misused as well. The result of this was that, however careful you were with the lacing of the film, it often jumped and brought the show to an abrupt halt. The interval spent in relacing the film was punctuated with frequent groans from the audience.
We had a very good relationship with Toc H, and would hold film shows there, even inviting academics from Reading University, Leighton Park School and also from the London Universities to show documentary films with comments, to give gramophone recitals of light classical music, and to lecture on topical subjects. Strangely enough, documentary films showing life in Russia were quite popular. This was owing to the Russians’ successes in Stalingrad and in halting the unrelenting progress of the German Eastern Armies. Strangely enough too these Russian films, especially on Education and on Schools, were presented by a lady member of the English aristocracy, to whose members today Russian communism is total anathema. She also carried the aristocratic double-barrelled name of Marsden-Smedley.
A task which entailed careful planning was organising a monthly conference for officers in Reading University. Two recognised authorities on social subjects, such as Education, Population and social reforms, were invited from academic institutions in London and in Reading to take part in a full day’s conference. One lecture with discussion in the morning and the same in the afternoon with a meal provided by the University kitchen staff in the mid-day interval.
As is usual with such conferences, when plans have to be made well in advance, there would often be last-minute hitches that had to be ironed out. Fortunately for me, the Lieutenant and Warrant Office were mainly responsible for the conference arrangements. However these conferences were very popular with the officers who came from different units stationed in a wide area around Reading. Most of them suffered from no inhibitions in public - they were always ready to express their opinions in the discussion. Another reason for their popularity, I suppose, was the opportunity of being relieved of unit duties for the day.
Warrant Officer Tonbridge had struck up a close friendship, rather too close for a married man, with a Miss Colombé, who was on the staff of the Extramural Department of the University. She proved extremely useful to us as she was familiar with numerous potential lecturers and with the activities of the University and of Toc H. She was also familiar with the lay-out of the town, and had useful ideas about property that could be taken over by the Army for setting up an Education Centre. A property, fairly central to the town unlike our office on the outskirts, came on the market just at the time when the Government had announced a scheme for Emergency Trained Teachers that could be recruited from serving soldiers even up to the age of forty.
So we made a case for establishing a centre where potential teachers could meet, where courses could be held and well-known Professors and lecturers and teachers from University Education Departments and from local schools could give lectures. With very little delay, possession was taken of No. 2 Kendrick Road. For the first few weeks we three, along with Miss Colombé, spent hours decorating and refurbishing the spacious rooms as a lecture room, library, a lounge and a kitchen where hot drinks could be made. The response for the Emergency Training Scheme was immediate, with nearly forty soldiers, of all ranks, seemingly eager to become teachers at the end of the War. I do not think we turned anyone away, even though there was some unlikely material among them.
All those who came to lecture and to give talks to the aspiring teachers were unanimous in their approval of the Government scheme. There had been a serious breakdown of discipline in many of the large schools in the cities. They expressed the opinion that mature men who had had experience of Army discipline would be more likely to control their classes than many of the young teachers in the present-day schools.
However one of the lecturers, Mr. E.B. Castle of the Leighton Park School, and more lately Professor of Education and Vice-Chancellor at Hull University, gave the warning that it was difficult to assess the likely disciplinary ability of potential teachers. He quoted an example of a teacher of fine appearance and physique and much athletic prowess coming to see him and tearfully admitting that he could in no way control his classes, especially the Lower Forms.
I must not give the impression that my week was one of unrelieved pressure and work. Having most of the weekends free to do as I wished, I often managed to have more than my share of forty-eight hours leaves, in addition to the legitimate seven days’ leaves; with the connivance, of course, of the officer-in-charge. But there were times when I ventured to have a weekend at home even without an official pass. I was able to do this because I was billeted in civilian lodgings and was able to leave my Army uniform in the house and wear a civilian suit. I would catch a late train on Friday night and arrive in Llandeilo about midday on Saturday. Then the return journey late on Sunday night could be a very hazardous one.
I remember one very uncomfortable and anxious return journey from Swansea. I caught the five to nine train, which was due in Reading at about three a.m. The train was packed with returning soldiers. My compartment was full of young men and women dressed in civilian clothes, but it became quite obvious as the train, which was making a detour through Gloucester , made slower and slower progress owing to a very thick fog, that all the occupants were ‘wolves in sheep’s clothing’. They were military personnel anxious to arrive in their units undetected and before reveille. The late arrival did not worry me as there would be no check on me returning to civilian lodgings. However it transpired that there were Military Police on the station eager to pounce on anyone without a pass. So I had to find an exit by taking less obvious routes, dodging in and out of underground passages.
Another very pleasant relaxation from stress and work was a regular Sunday evening at Carrie’s cousin’s home in Kendrick Road. Edgar Thomas was Professor of Agricultural Economics at Reading University and was married to Prof. T.H. Parry-Williams’ sister, Eurwen. They and their two charming young daughters were ideal hosts, always giving me an ungrudging welcome to their comfortable home. A regular visitor, like myself, on Sunday evenings was Roger Davies, the Clerk of Berkshire County Council, who was a Welsh-speaking Welshman from Clydach. The language of the house was, naturally, Welsh as Edgar Thomas hailed from Llanfynydd and was an Old Boy of Llandeilo Grammar School and Eurwen’s brother was Professor of Welsh at Aberystwyth University College. So it was a home from home atmosphere for me.
Edgar, Roger and I had interesting discussions on Economics, both Agricultural and Political, subjects, of course, that were of main interest to the two in their work. Edgar’s Bible was the Economist from which the topics of the previous week were drawn. They were also deeply interested in the affairs of the Reading Welsh Society and when this Society held its monthly Sunday afternoon religious service, Eurwen would often bring friends home with her from the Service. These too would make stimulating and interesting company.
I would often leave Kendrick Road quite late at night as I had my own key for my lodgings. I well remember on one of these late nights being approached by a woman of doubtful appearance who asked me if I had a match to light her cigarette. My innocent reply was, ‘Sorry, I don’t smoke’. It was only later that it dawned on me that I had been accosted by a prostitute.
Another intended relaxation was becoming a member of the Pay Corps Choir. On my weekly visits to the Corn Exchange, where the Pay Corps had their office, in order to receive my pay, I met a Welshman with whom I became very friendly. His name was Ithel Jones. He and one or two others, when they found out that I was interested in choral singing, invited me to join the Pay Corps choir. My first appearance was a complete anticlimax; they all used Staff Notation copies, and could not produce for me a Solffa copy, generally used by Welsh choirs. However an interesting development arising from my friendship with Ithel Jones was being invited along with him to take part in Emlyn Williams’ play ‘The Corn is Green’, which was being performed by the Reading Repertory Company. They required two Welsh-speaking Welshmen to act as Welsh colliers and to sing the song ‘Bugeilio’r Gwenith Gwyn’.
One of the strange coincidences of life is that after I left Reading not a word further was heard of Ithel Jones. Nearly forty years afterwards I underwent a very serious operation and had a long and trying convalescence. One of my acquaintances in Llanilar, where I was living at the time, came to see me several times. He was J.R. Evans, the retired local Headmaster, and in one of our conversations he mentioned his friend Ithel Jones, who also was a retired Headmaster and lived in Talybont. So I jumped to the conclusion that maybe here was the very person who sang ‘Bugeilio’r Gwenith Gwyn’ with me in Reading . J.R. said that when he next met Ithel, he would mention the likelihood of the Talybont Ithel Jones being one and the same as the Pay Corps Ithel Jones. Soon after, J.R. brought Ithel along with him, and then you can imagine how we wallowed in nostalgic reminiscences.
1944, as far as the Western Allies were concerned, was the most fateful year of the War. It was in June of that year that after long and intensive preparations the Allies succeeded in opening the Second Front by landing on the coast of Normandy. However, the highlight of that fateful year for me was my success in persuading my family to come to stay in Reading. I had seen an advertisement in a local newspaper offering rooms for a couple in a terraced house in Audley Street with a Mr. Gerring, an old man of about eighty who spent most of his day tailoring in an upstairs room.
My recollections of that stay were very vague, and so were Carrie’s. But the full details were revealed when we found a small pocket diary for 1944, that she had kept very carefully, although the notes were brief and cryptic. The details given in the diary, I thought, must be very interesting to Una, and maybe to her family, and, were Nest alive, would be equally interesting to her. So I have decided to reproduce the more relevant and more significant diary notes just as they were recorded by Carrie.
Carrie’s Diary for 1944 - Extracts
- March 3 Arrive Reading 7.45. Bitterly cold.
- March 4 Gwilym at a conference in Oxford.
- March 5 Sunday. Welsh services in afternoon. Met lots of Welsh people.
- March 9 Edgar and Eurwen called with Carrie in afternoon.
- March 10 Mrs Jones and Carrie went to Battle School and gained admittance for Una and Nest
- March 11 Saturday. Visited town, library, museum etc. children happy.
- March 12 Sunday. Tea with Edgar and Eurwen.
- March 13 Girls started at Battle School. Settled down well.
- March 18 Sat. All went to Welsh social.
- March 19 Long walk in Prospect Park in afternoon.
- March 25 Pictures in morning. Shopping in afternoon. Walk along Thames in evening.
- March 24 Walk along river. Tea with Edgar and Eurwen in afternoon.
- April 1 Saturday. Conference in Oxford.
- April 4 Pictures in evening.
- April 8 Saturday. Stayed in bed with cold. Carrie and children meet Eurwen and Blodwen at Wellstead’s for coffee.
- April 10 Day off. Went to Sonning in afternoon.
- April 22 Sat. Went to Zoo in Regent’s Park. Girls thrilled.
- April 26 Went to tea with Miss Palmer, a friend of Mrs Dan Jeffreys.
- May 9 Ray, Carrie’s sister, came to see us.
- May 11 Ray left.
- May 13 Carrie and girls went to Palmer Park to see Inter-Varsity Sports.
- May 29 Una has chicken pox when Nest had just recovered from it.
- June 18 Sunday. Edgar and family with us for tea.
- June 19 Flying bomb fell near Reading. All frightened.
- June 20 Started packing to go home. Night of alerts.
- June 22 Decided not to go home again.
- June 25 Sun. Went to tea at Edgar’s.
- July 1 Sat. We all got up at 6.30 and caught 7.43 train to Oxford. Saw Magdalene College.
- July 2 Welsh service at St Andrew’s followed by tea.
- July 4 Carrie took girls and Mary to Riverside.
- July 8 Sat. Museum in morning. Went on steamer to Henley in afternoon.
- July 20 Carrie met Welsh crowd in Wellstead’s in morning. Bethan and Carys called in afternoon.
- July 25 Tues. Took girls and Gillian out for picnic tea.
- July 28 Carrie and girls tea with Mrs Jeffreys in Tilehurst road.
- July 29 Una’s birthday. Went to Sanger’s Circus in King’s Meadows.
- July 30 Tea in Edgar’s - Carys had made birthday cake for Una.
- August 1 Una went to tea with Valerie Mitchell.
- August 4 Fri. Carrie took girls to see Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
- August 5 Sat. Tea at Edgar’s after visiting Kendrick House (Army Education Centre)
- August 8 We all left Reading 6.20 a.m. Arrived Llandeilo 3.30 p.m.
- August 9 Gwilym returned to Reading.
There is one surprising omission in Carrie’s diary. During June and July we were almost regularly every evening compelled to go out into the garden to watch a war activity right overhead, right over Audley Street. It was a most impressive sight of four to five hundred American Flying Fortresses flying in formation. Their zoom-zoom, like the regular beat of heavy drums, continued for an hour or more. They were flying very low, probably weighed down by their heavy load of huge bombs. It was also an encouraging sight as we believed that such merciless mass bombing of German cities could only shorten the war. However A.J.P. Taylor, in his history of the Second World War, maintains that all this bombing was a wasted effort as it had very little effect in lowering German morale.
In 1945, with the War seemingly coming to an end, in spite of one or two set-backs in the advance towards Germany, I was sent on a course to Dartington Hall in Devon. Dartington Hall had been taken over by the Hearsts of America. It had been set up as an educational and cultural establishment, with a school which soon gained a rather notorious reputation because of its free discipline. Indeed, there have been scandals there even in recent times.
However, when I went on a course there, it had been taken over by the Government as a convalescent hospital for airmen that had suffered very serious burns when their planes were shot down by the Germans. But there was a peculiar mixture of civilians and military personnel following cultural pursuits such as music, film-making, discussions, and even cabinet-making.
There were just six sergeants from the A.E.C. being trained by a lieutenant in the art of holding discussion groups. We had a morning session and an afternoon session when each in turn led the rest in discussion, or rather gave a talk on a chosen subject followed by a discussion. At the end of the session the lieutenant gave his opinion on the treatment of the topic and the success or failure of the discussion.
I surprised myself, when my turn came, with the fact that I had talked on my subject for well over an hour with hardly a look at my notes. I felt that I had spoken at far too great a length, and so expected to have an adverse comment for this by the officer. But indeed he complimented me on my comprehensive treatment of the subject and more especially on the way I looked, as it were, into the eyes of my audience. He said that my experience as a teacher had helped me to do this, whereas the other five came from different walks of life and were unable to deliver their talk without keeping their eyes glued on their notes. This was a comment too in the report sent back to the Reading office.
We had a visit from a high-ranking A.E.C. officer, namely Colonel Wigg, who, after the War, had office in the Labour Party when they were in power, but ended his life in disgrace, having been apprehended by the police for accosting women in a fashionable quarter of London late at night. While on his visit to us he arranged to have a photograph of our group with him sitting in the middle. In later years a profile of Colonel Wigg was published in the Picture Post, and one of the photographs depicting his various activities was this photograph - a great thrill for a nobody like me to appear in a popular National publication!
We were really in the lap of luxury at Dartington Hall. It was more of a holiday than an exacting course. We had all our meals in a palatial dining room along with the airmen. At first it was rather a distressing sight to see some of these airmen with extensive burn scars on their faces and hands. But they were a happy and uncomplaining bunch of men and were very good company. The food was up to the standard of a first-class hotel. We had a very liberal supply of Devon cider on the table. I drank a lot of this but before long to my cost. The acidity of the cider did not agree with my sensitive stomach. There were some civilians too eating in the Dining Hall, one of them being Imogen Holst, the daughter of Gustav Holst. She too was rather a pitiful sight, being racked with arthritis.
A variety of entertainment was laid on in the evenings. There were some film shows with films that had been made by the film unit in Dartington Hall. Concerts were arranged by Imogen Holst, although she herself could not perform because of her arthritis. In one of the concerts there had been no previous preparation but everyone present was expected to make some contribution. One of the A.E.C. members was a professional singer, and so it was natural that he should steal the show. It was thought that the Welsh were natural singers, a reputation that was hardly deserved, especially in my case. But after a lot of pressure was put on me to sing a Welsh song, I consented to sing but could not for the life of me remember a complete song that could be considered a worthy choice, and in the end I had to resort to the ridiculous and puerile choice of ‘Sospan Fach’.
One of the other pleasures of the course was the picnicking on the lawns, and wandering around the beautiful grounds. Trips too were arranged into Totnes, the nearest town.
From this account of mine you must draw the conclusion that I must have been the luckiest man to don military uniform in the Second World War. However I was soon reminded that I was a soldier. I was sent on a weapons training course, again to Devon - a preliminary, I should think, to being sent abroad. The depot for this training was a naval station called Fort Tregantle, not far from Plymouth. We had instruction in all kinds of weapons: the .303 rifle, a revolver, the Bren gun, the new Piat gun and hand grenades. The most frightening of these weapons were the grenades, as they were live. They had to be thrown at a very short interval after the pin was pulled out. You were always afraid that the grenade would explode in your hand with the result that you would be cursed by the instructor for throwing the grenade too soon.