You Can Never Tell

By Philip Zeid

Philip Zeid writes about his unusual life experiences. His story starts with his experiences during the bombing of England by the Germans at the beginning of World War II, followed by his volunteering as a pilot in the RAF and his training in America, which, at the time, was not at war. He eventually transferred to gliders and served in the Burma Campaign.

After the war and because of the partition riots in India, his ambition to be a tea planter there ended in him becoming a rubber planter in Malaya where he experienced ten years of the Emergency both as a bachelor and later with his wife and family. He also introduced several innovative procedures into his work.

He experienced many unusual incidents in a variety of countries and places, which include America, Mexico, India, Burma, Thailand (Siam), Vietnam, Hong Kong, the Himalayas, and several other interesting places.

He also provides an insight into how you can never tell which eventssmall or large, close or farcan influence our future lives. In this book, he shows how taking up radio as a hobby, how refusing to wear glasses as a child, how the partition riots in India, how being in debt on his first leave from Malaya, and how many other such incidents could have a profound effect on his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Feb 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543406962

Philip Zeid

Philip Zeid served in the Royal Air Force and has enjoyed a life filled with interesting experiences throughout the world.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Philip Zeid.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018901921

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5434-0698-6

      Softcover      978-1-5434-0697-9

      eBook         978-1-5434-0696-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Rev. date: 02/12/2018

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Contents

Part 1 School And University

Part 2 The War Period

Part 3 A Civilian Bachelor’s Life

Part 4 Married Life

I

dedicate this book to my dear wife, Nina, who was my greatest friend and companion during our married life. Prior to our marriage, she had never been out of New South Wales, yet she adapted well to many unfamiliar and dangerous situations and brought up a wonderful family of five children.

I am thankful at the age 95 that I am able to write this book.

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank my friends Bill Marwick and Barbara Edwards and my Granddaughter Carol Shepherd for proofreading the document.

Introduction

During our lives, we do many things, in some cases apparently trivial. We make many choices and decisions unaware, or oblivious, of the profound affect they might have on our future. Likewise, many events take place in the world around us which at the time seem unconnected to our future. These events may be trivial or even world-shaking. How will such events affect our lives in the future?

You Can Never Tell

I will begin my story from the time I was in my last days at school and university, followed by my time in the Royal Air Force, then my bachelor life, and finally my married life.

PART 1

School and University

At School

When war was declared in 1939, I was in my last year of schooling in Portsmouth, England. However, Portsmouth was considered a primary target for German bombers, so we were evacuated to Bournemouth, which was considered safer. It wasn’t.

Nothing much happened during the first few months of the war, which was known as the Phony War. However, it was not long before war began in earnest. The first indication for my friends and I occurred when we were in the playground on a warm summer’s day. High in the distance, we saw a single plane slowly flying towards us. Then we saw a small black object fall from the plane and realised it was a bomb. It exploded on the road and blew a hole about two to three metres in diameter.

As the war went on, the bombing increased and the bombs got bigger. The devastation was massive. Apart from the bombs dropped by aircraft, the Germans developed a ramjet that carried a bomb. You could recognise these by the distinctive phut, phut, phut sound of their engines. If you heard the noise, you knew you were safe because the bomb was still in flight, but when the noise stopped, you knew the bomb was heading for the ground. These small ramjet bombs were soon superseded by the V-1, which was a full-scale rocket carrying a bomb.

Later still, the Germans used incendiary bombs, which they dropped in their hundreds. The spread of fire and devastation caused by these bombs overwhelmed the limited facilities of the firefighters. Bombing was mostly carried out at night.

For ground defence, Britain had barrage balloons, searchlights, and anti-aircraft guns. Sirens warned when the enemy was approaching and gave us time to proceed to our air raid shelters or basements. To help during all this chaos, young men of my age joined the Home Guards.

At Bournemouth we were subjected to many night-time bombing raids. At the sound of the sirens, our usual group would proceed to the ‘shelter’ of the basement. We would spend the time chatting. Sometimes we would take some games or cards to play to while away the time until the all-clear sounded, indicating that the bombing raid was over. During those times, none of us felt any fear—we just behaved normally. I distinctly remember one couple who always joined us, probably because they had the most unusual name of Snodgrass!

Hollywood would not have depicted us as we really were because a serene scene in a bomb shelter would have no impact on cinemagoers, and probably, it wouldn’t have been believed anyway. Following the tradition of Hollywood, they preferred to show us panicking and trembling in fear. The same calm situation and behaviour occurred in Bristol, when I was at university.

School Holidays

During the school holidays, we did not return to our billets. We were paired and sent out to farms to serve as farm labourers. There was a shortage of farmworkers as most had been called up into the armed services. I recall it was harvest time and we were kept very busy. Sometimes we saw flights of German bombers heading to London. As a reward for our hard work, the farmer and his wife introduced us to apple cider, which we enjoyed. The apple cider was poured from a stone jug. We enjoyed it so much we sometimes snuck into the pantry and poured ourselves a drink of the beautiful nectar.

University

On completing my schooling, I won a scholarship to study for a bachelor of science at Bristol University, but when I turned eighteen, I gave notice that I wished to give up my studies and volunteer to join the Royal Air Force as a pilot. I was called before the board and told that I would not be helping the war effort by leaving, as it was essential for the country to continue to produce people with degrees who were required in industry and other important services.

I suggested women could fill the role I was being trained for. The board tried to persuade me to change my mind, but when they realised I wouldn’t budge, their attitude changed. They congratulated me and wished me the best of luck.

PART 2

The War Period

The Royal Air Force

I sent in my application to join the Royal Air Force, and eventually, I was called for an interview. After passing this, I had a medical examination, which I also passed. I was checked for colour blindness and my ability to see in the dark. I also had a dental check and, for the first time in my life, had fillings put in three teeth. I was sent home to await advice on my first posting.

When I was about fifteen and still at school, my parents thought I needed glasses. They took me to an optometrist, who prescribed a pair for me. However, I refused to wear them. Had I done so, I would not have been able to apply to become a pilot in the RAF, and my whole future—even my personality—would have been completely different. At the time, I had no idea how important that decision would be in dictating my future.

My first posting was to St John’s Wood in London. We were supplied with uniforms and prepared for posting to our first unit to begin flying training. We were young and fit, but during our short stay at St John’s Wood, we complained of a lack of libido. Rumour had it that the tea served was laced with bromide, which we understood acted as an anti-aphrodisiac. I can well believe this because the tea had an unusual and unpleasant taste. The authorities were obviously aiming to reduce the chances of any inappropriate behaviour among such a large group of healthy, young, and virile men living in cramped quarters.

About two weeks later, along with a few others, I was posted to Saint Andrews in Scotland, where we received basic training in meteorology, navigation, engines, and other subjects.

The short stay there was very agreeable. We all became very good friends, and often in the evenings, a small group would do a pub crawl. Our usual drink was a Scotch and chaser, the chaser being beer. It was a potent mixture, so our pub crawls didn’t last too long.

In a patriotic gesture, the committee of the Saint Andrews Golf Club, opened the course to us free of charge. The clubhouse was a large and impressive building which would have served well as a manor for a wealthy lord. We must have been among the only people in the world who, without a golf handicap and never having held a golf club in our lives, were allowed to play on those prestigious and renowned links.

I recall swimming in the sea in mid-December. It was a cold but sunny day, and there were ice crystals forming along the shore. I was the only one foolish enough to take a swim.

Our training continued, and those who completed the basic course were sent south to learn to fly and carry out their first solo flight. The training aircraft was the Tiger Moth, a very forgiving plane. Even today, I vividly recall my first solo. As soon as I realised I had taken off and was flying on my own, I started yelling in excitement.

A little later the thought of having to land the plane suddenly dawned on me. This somewhat dampened my initial excitement. However, I carried out a perfect landing. The pure joy and pleasure of that moment is something I will never forget. Later in the course, we carried out simulated parachute jumps from a tower.

Another very interesting aspect of our training was to memorise all the aircraft and battleships of the Allied forces and those of our enemies. This was necessary to avoid the possibility of attacking our own aircraft and warships. To help recognise aircraft and ships we used packs of flip cards. A sketch of the aircraft or warship was on one side of the card and the name of the aircraft or vessel and country of origin on the other. It is amazing how quickly we became adept at memorising so many aircraft and warships.

Those who completed the course satisfactorily were selected for further training. Those who failed returned to ordinary duties. This weeding-out process continued throughout our training, and we were frequently saying farewell to many good friends.

Posting Overseas

Flying training was not safe in the UK, so advanced flying training was conducted overseas under what was known as the Empire Air Training Scheme. Postings could be to Canada, Australia, South Africa, and a few other safe havens. My posting was an exception; with a few others, I was sent to America via Canada.

America at the time was not at war, but had offered to help the UK train its pilots with their American Army Air Force personnel. I did advance flying training at an American air base outside Ponca City, in Oklahoma. The second day after our arrival, many local inhabitants arrived on the base. They were to become our foster parents.

I was taken under the wing of the Knight family, who had a young son suffering polio. They were a wonderful, friendly family, and I was frequently invited to family meals and outings. I was invited to drop in any time I wanted. I kept in touch with these wonderful and generous people for years. However, just before the end of the war, I lost touch with them. Perhaps they had moved; perhaps they had died. I do not know the reason.

My memories of my stay in Ponca City have faded somewhat, but I do have two special memories: The first was that Blacks (as they were then called) and Red Indians (off the neighbouring reservation) were not allowed in bars, hotels, or restaurants. They were allowed on certain buses, but they had to sit in the back. Despite this discrimination, some Red Indians could be seen driving in Cadillacs, presumably bought with royalties received for oil found on their reservations.

The other special memory was being shown over a research centre