Service In Cyprus
Previously, Bob has written about his national service introduction at: Service In Cyprus
This is the number I referred to in my last dissertation as being forever imprinted in my mind.
In the last episode, I left off having arrived at No. 4 Training Regiment Royal Engineers, Gibraltar Barracks, Aldershot.M
Rather than cause a loss of interest or apathy in any of my anecdotes, I have decided to jump ahead to my posting to Cyprus. Details of my time at Aldershot can be given at a later date if anyone is interested.
Perhaps in typical Army style, our training party were told to write on the appropriate sheet, where we would prefer to be posted to our permanent camp for the remainder of our time serving Her Majesty. Having spent all of my earlier days quietly in Church activities, Boys' Brigade etc. in the small village of New Stevenston, three miles from Motherwell, deep in the heart of industrial Lanarkshire, I was full of that 'Gung HO!' spirit familiar to many of my kin, and opted for a posting to the Far East, with the romantic idea of Singapore, Hong Kong or some similar far flung outpost of the then remaining British Empire.
Lo and behold! it was to the Middle East that I was posted and to the Garden Isle of Cyprus. As many of my readers will be aware, EOKA was still very active in 1957 and stories coming back via soldiers returning from this Theatre, did nothing really to inspire me with complete confidence in the wisdom of the Army.
However, I decided quickly that it was unlikely that any request from me to change my posting would be received with sympathy, I applied the Army maxim of "Grin and bear it !!".
For reasons unknown, I was the only individual to be posted to active service in Cyprus from our party, and in due course following Embarkation leave, was flown by propeller driven plane from Ashford to Nicosia. Among the other passengers on this flight were several civilians who were evidently returning to serve in some capacity in some branch of the Civil service, together with Officers and wives of Officers.
July 1957 was warm by any standards in England, but the blast of hot air which met me on leaving the aircraft at Nicosia, was something I could only compare to a visit during my engineering training, to a steel smelting furnace. Added to this I was yet to be supplied with Tropical kit and was fully clothed as per instructions, in Battle Dress hairy uniform.
My travel documents indicated that I would be met by some unknown individual at the airport and transported to a camp which went under the name 'WAYNES KEEP'. This camp has been mentioned by others in their anecdotal accounts. In due course a Bedford three ton truck arrived with the driver seeking Sapper Copeland and I was driven to my destination.
My arrival seemed to take the duty Sergeant by surprise and it was only after much searching that he found any reference to my arrival. "Find a tent!" was the extent of my information. " Collect some bedding from the QM store and some eating irons!" " You will be here for two nights and are due to go to Polymedhia".
Find a tent I did,from among some two hundred, since WAYNES KEEP was a transit camp and was able to cater for innumerable soldiers and service men and women. There was i vividly recall, a strange quiet in the camp and very few signs of life. However I chose to share a tent with a young man who, like myself, had just arrived and was awaiting transport to his Regiment near Famagusta.
After a good sleep on my first night on foreign soil, I was awakened firstly by the strains of music which sounded eerily strange in the heat and the solitude of a large tented camp. There will be several readers I am certain, who will recall the song which was in the hit list in 1957/58 entitled "A WHITE SPORTS COAT". That was what I heard echoing through the hot atmosphere and immediately reminded me of those happy days, which now seemed long ago, and yet were only some four months away, when I would be trying to impress some young lady on the dance floor to that tune at our local dance hall.
Secondly I became aware of what sounded like someone shouting orders and in an accent with which I was as yet unfamiliar. There seemed to be a distinct similarity between the words which I imagined I heard, and those of our drill NCO at Aldershot; but at twice the speed. EFT! ITE! ETF! ITE! which I interpreted as meaning 'left' 'right' but at a speed which I thought would do justice to the Ghurkas whom I had witnessed 'running' around Edinburgh Castle esplanade during the annual Tattoo.
Curiosity got the better of me and I would not be satisfied until I had established where the sound was coming from and who was executing the commands. Nothing during my basic training had prepared me for the sight that I was to witness, through a wire fence which I noticed was at least ten feet high and topped with barbed wire. WAYNES KEEP evidently served not only as a transit camp, but also was the main detention centre for Cyprus and I believe the Middle East.
Beyond the confines of the wire fence were several soldiers, fully kitted out in FSMO, being marched at the trot around a rectangular drill area. Sweat poured from their foreheads and it was possible to see the sweat stains on their tunics as well as the strain on their faces. A Staff Sergeant seemed intent on ensuring that not only the unfortunate victims heard him but so would everyone within a radius of two miles. This gentleman was assisted by three other Staff Sergeants whose primary purpose appeared to be to repeat each command by bawling it in the ears of the nearest poor soul. It only took one look from the Staff Sergeant in my direction to convince me that my presence would not be welcomed at this juncture. Later enquiries by me established that the recipients of the harrassment were offenders guilty of some heinous crime at least in the eyes of the Army. I QUICKLY ABSENTED MYSELF!!!
Later that day, I was fortunate to meet a Sapper who had a contact among the driving fraternity, and he offered me the chance to join him in a visit to Nicosia. Innocent at that time of any likely problems I welcomed the opportunity to journey into the unknown and spent a few hours wandering the streets of the Capital, constantly looked upon by Military Police and servicemen who were either curious at someone obviously fresh from Blighty and dressed in Battle Dress, or, perhaps in the case of the MP's, finding it strange that anyone obviously new to Cyprus was wandering around on their own. However the afternoon passed without incident and I was eventually taken back to my temporary accommodation for one more night. It was later in my time on the island, having seen and heard of some of the activities and atrocities of EOKA that I began to realise why i was seen to be unusual on my own in Nicosia. I had not appreciated at that time that I was perhaps wandering along part of what was to be known as MURDER MILE.
As always, the army did not let me down and my transport arrived next morning to take me to Polymeghia Camp three miles from Limassol near the historic village of Berengaria. The lesson of my innocence was driven home when I noticed that the driver of the truck taking me to my new home was armed and had an armed escort accompanying him.
© Bob Copeland 2008
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