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Leicester was only a disposal centre whilst the powers that be decided what to do with all the troops brought out of France, including the Dunkirk evacuation. Eventually our unit - no.4. Workshop Company - was broken up with half being sent to Catterick in Yorkshire and the other half, including me, to the Ordnance Depot at Chilwell, Nottingham, a vast depot repairing tanks, vehicles and instruments, in fact everything the army used. Having arrived at Chilwell and been allocated accommodation, in my non-working hours we had to find somewhere for "My Love" to stay and we were lucky to meet a friend of a friend who, in the short term, took her in to her council house in Nottingham where she was staying with her young son, her own husband being away in the army. I was fortunate in obtaining a sleeping out pass and we stayed on for a while in Nottingham with me cycling to and from the depot. After a while it became very irksome having to report to the depot at seven o'clock in the morning following quite a long ride in all weathers and we decided to try and find somewhere nearer Chilwell.
I was allocated to a new Progress Section set up to hasten the procurement of spare parts, etc. and to iron out anomalies and bottle necks. I was fortunate that the establishment for the section included the rank of Staff Sergeant and I was promoted to this vacancy.
It was at this time "My Love" and I decided, war or no war, to start our own little family. It seemed that if we waited for the war to end first we could wait a long time. During the waiting period we had to suffer quite a few air raids, Chilwell being a main target. Luckily the enemy had difficulty in finding us and Nottingham was often on the receiving end. I remember on one occasion we heard the whistle of a bomb let loose quite close to us. We were in bed at the time and when we heard the whistle we pulled the sheet over our heads. We have laughed about that on many occasions because it was always said that you never heard the bomb that actually got you and a sheet would not have saved us much.

It is probably difficult for the younger generations to realise that we spent quite a lot of night time in air-raid shelters in our own gardens. Each house was provided with a shelter and to accommodate it, it was necessary to dig a fairly large hole in the garden about four feet deep and the shelter was placed in this hole with the earth that had been removed being placed on top. The idea of this was that when the air raid siren sounded we made our way to the shelters and stayed there until the 'all clear' was sounded. Should a bomb fall nearby the house might be demolished by blast but we would be comparatively safe in our shelter. We kept two deck chairs in the shelter and spent quite a lot of time there but we found it difficult to sleep because normally it could be quite cold. We tried to overcome this by placing a candle on the floor and over this we placed an earthenware garden pot which improved matters - but not much! In the end we had so many false air raid alarms that we stayed in bed until we heard bombs being dropped, when we made a hurried exit to our shelter.
On 8th April 1942 "My Love" woke me to say she thought her time had come and I got up to let the nursing home in Beeston know. It was a pitch black night and, of course, no lights were allowed anywhere with a complete black-out. I had difficulty in finding a telephone box and when I did and got inside a policeman was right by my side evidently thinking I was there to rob the money box. When he knew what I was there for he gave me every help, of course, and we managed to get "My Love" to the nursing home. Our darling elder daughter arrived safely the following morning and I was allowed out of the depot to see my new family. During the summer I was one of a team selected to do a month's commando training. I can honestly say it was one of the best months I spent in the army and although it was a hard slog I'm sure it was good for me. In the first week we did a five mile route march increasing each week until in the last week we marched twenty miles in full battle kit and completed an assault course at the end of it. The beer was good and we earned it.

In the late summer of 1942 I received a posting away from Chilwell. I can't say I was particularly enamoured in some respects: it made it almost certain that our arrangement of being together was likely to be broken. I was told to report to 'R' Headquarters, St. Paul's School, London. On reporting I asked what 'R' HQ meant but was told that all would be revealed in due course. Actually when it was revealed it turned out to be the Allied Force Headquarters of what was going to be the invasion of North Africa under General Eisenhower. We were a unit integrated with United States troops and we were all sworn to secrecy. Our offices were in St. James' Square, London and on more than one occasion I spoke to General Eisenhower who happened to be in the lift with me.
As the planning of Operation Torch (the landings in North Africa) proceeded, the HQ became quite large with a duplication of both armies in the same building.
It was very interesting being in on the ground floor of all the arrangements for Operation Torch but obviously non-commissioned officers such as myself were not allowed to know the inner secrets of the planned invasion.
One of the first things I learned when joining the HQ was that I was the senior of the non-commissioned ranks on my particular corps ( REME ) , and as such I was promoted first to Warrant Officer Class 2 and then to Warrant Officer Class 1 - the highest rank attainable in non-commissioned rank. The extra money was good!
We had to find our own billets and thus the two of us and our lovely Wendy were able to be together again in, albeit, not very salubrious accommodation so far as "My Love" was concerned. The tenement building we were in, together with quite a selection of other soldiers, was not conducive to easy washing of nappies for our 6 month old baby. We were together, however, and this was important because I knew that before long I would be on my way overseas.

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