Lest we forget: eighty years ago in March 1941

Another week begins. I am now Platoon Havaldar [Sergeant] so fell in the Platoon at 8:40 a.m., called roll, etc. Various lectures followed. O&A, Military Law, Morse, etc. In the evening I went to voluntary PT to try to brush up staff for test, rope climbing, etc. Afterwards, voluntary Urdu with fellows from 8 Company. Munshi seems very interested in whether we can drive a car, fly a plane; have we seen a U-boat, submarine, etc. He asks the questions and expects a reply in Urdu. We have to lecture to the class ourselves on MR. As usual, retired thankfully.

  Awoke 6:30 a.m., but stayed in bed enjoying the rest until about 7:30 a.m. when I had tea. Removed suits from trunk, tidied drawers, put in mothballs and put stuff to air. Now at 10:30 a.m. I am going to write home. After Morse (voluntary at 11:00-12:00) had lunch and then wrote home and to Renée. After tea at 5:00 p.m., dressed and went in search of a Methodist Chapel. Failing to locate same, at 6:15 p.m., I went to St Mark’s Church. Quite a nice service after which I started to return, lost my way and was forced to take a taxi. Retired wearily at 10:30 p.m.

This morning I find my Bearer has placed some flowers on my table; very nice, but I hope he doesn’t expect too much in return. We went to Agram [1] (commonly called Agony) Plain today on cycles for demonstration of penetration of rifle bullets, then a lecture by a Lieutenant who had just returned from the Libyan campaign; quite interesting. End of week tests, better at MR: like school, always worrying about the next test. In the afternoon, Dean and I went out on cycles, booked for cinema and rode around; found some grand gardens. After tea, dressed and went to cinema. Saw Gary Cooper and Madeleine Carrol in ‘North West Mounted Police’; quite good, but far fetched. Afterwards, we had egg and chips and returned to college at 10:45 p.m. relieved to rest, grateful that tomorrow is Sunday. [1] Agram, a district of Bangalore, Karnataka State, headquarters of the Bangalore Battalion.

  Today we spent three warm periods on the Plain at FC (fieldcraft). My room-mate has gone into hospital with dysentery, half the Company are ill. Bearer feels a bit disconsolate; he gets no pay if anyone is in hospital [1] . Tests today at Morse and MR. Bought some ‘Flit’ [brand name of an insecticide]. Tonight my Bearer (he seems to confide in me) came and said that he had had INR1 pinched from his coat; he seemed rather glum and went on to tell me how, after his father, mother and brothers had died, he was very poor, he also said his child was in hospital. Well, I felt sorry for him and gave him INR2; he may be swindling me, but I hope not. [1] British justice.

  Awakened dead tired. Day of work as usual. Played hockey this evening; enjoyed game, but not as good as soccer or rugby. Rather enjoyed conversation at dinner today, showed that some were inclined to Socialism and could not consider the natives as dirt. Most Englishmen out here treat the natives very badly. Not much to say, every day is alike, all work. Watch papers carefully for news, air-raids, etc. Wonder how things are going, we seem very cut off. Bearer gets INR22 a month. Two of us to a room. Shared Bearer (= servant).

A hard morning and a wet shirt on the Plain bayonet fighting, then Flags, Morse, Urdu, Military Law, O&A and MR. Shade temperature 95°F [35°C]. Had my English money changed, poor rate, £1 = INR12.8. Keeping fairly fit; about eight of each Platoon sick or in hospital. Time another letter came. I still think of past years and wonder if I’ll see those places again. I shall never be happy enough to stay out here on my own. Today, I’m Platoon Ordnance Cadet (Pl. Ord. Cadet) had to visit the hospital, get orders read and find out if they were inoculated against diphtheria. Also see lights out, which meant staying awake until 11:00 p.m.; dead tired so I slept.

  Today we had drill, Physical training (PT), Morse [code], three periods of WT [Weapons Training?] [1] , Urdu. Don’t get on too well with Flags. Had first game of hockey, bored stiff. PT this morning consisted of unarmed combat. Signed for pay and credit, apparently INR308, not bad; wonder when we get it. Later obtained an Imperial Bank of India form to open an account. Being eaten alive by mosquitoes, bites everywhere nearly drive me crazy. Shorts from tailor today. Toast again in water. Dead tired as usual so will close and sleep, extra Urdu took up most of the evening. Toast to King-Emperor of India again. [1] Actually, written as 3 W.T. – most likely means three periods of weapons training, but it is not clear.

Another week begins with Organisation and Arrangements (O&A), drill, Morse [ code ], Map Reading (MR), Urdu, (Military) Law. A busy day. Had a test which I mucked, through a week in hospital. Started on voluntary Urdu at 6:00 p.m. Actually, the Coy. Cdrs. [Company Commanders?] expect us all to do it, so it is, to all intents, compulsory. Munshi [Urdu – language teacher] wants INR15 (Indian rupees) [1] – pretty salty. Work all day, work all evening and they ask if anyone wants to ride; not unless they can sleep on a horse. Couple of things here in the old Indian Army I don’t like. Well the day is nearly done so to all at home, “ Khuda hafiz ” [Urdu – ‘God protect you’]. [1] From 1927 to 1966 the Indian rupee (INR) was pegged at £1 = INR13.

When war broke out in August 1939 Dad, Geoffrey John Webb, then 18 years old, returned to school to find everyone preoccupied with OTC. He and several of his contemporaries, encouraged by staff, volunteered for army service and within days went to Cardiff University to be attested, given the King’s shilling, and told to go home and await call-up. When called up, as an officer cadet, Dad was sent to a battalion of the Royal Scots and travelled by ship to Bombay and on to the Cadet College Bangalore where he trained with Indian troops for the Middle East. After Pearl Harbour the troops were reassigned to the Far East and headed for Burma Among the papers Dad left when he died was a diary.  Enclosed in a trunk sent to Calcutta c/o Cox and Kings together with a service dress to remain in storage until 1947, the diary, hand-written in pen and ink records events in nine months of Geoffrey’s life following his enlistment in the Indian Army and travelling to Bombay in the meat ship Highlan...