'Memoirs and Recollections of An Officer of the Indian Political Service' [‎57r] (113/156)

CHAPTER 11: FINAL LEAVE IN ENGLAND
In May 1946, my turn for home leave came round at last. I sailed from Bombay on the
"S.S. Franconia", a large but elderly Atlantic liner, which had been converted into a
military troopship during the war and which had acquired fame as it had been used as
Winston Churchill’s headquarters during the negotiations at Yalta, when he, Roosevelt
and Stalin had negotiated the carve-up of continental Europe in the expectation of
victory against the Axis. The vast majority of those on board were of course service men,
but in addition there must have been a couple of hundred civilians like myself. In
those days, rank or seniority counted for little in the allocation of berths by the'
military transportation department. In fact, we civilians were classified in alpha
betical order. This was lucky for me as my name came early on, and I became one of the
six occupants of what had been a two berth cabin in peace-time. But we did at least have
one port-hole and a tiny bathroom between us. Those lower down the alphabet, irrespec
tive of their standing, were alloted to dormitories in the nether-region of the ship.
Senior Collectors, Secretaries to Government, and High Court Judges who were unfortunate
enough to have names like Stanley, Wallace or Young, found themselves living in extreme
discomfort with no hope of redress. It was the height of the hot season, and the
temperatures below deck were appalling. To make things worse, by some mischance, or
more likely sheer incompetence at Bombay, the personal baggage of certain of our fellow
civilian passengers containing the clothing and necessities which they would require
during the voyage, had not been set aside to be claimed by them on arrival on board.
Instead, their suitcases and bags had been loaded into the holds. When this was
discovered soon after we sailed, a deputation waited on the Captain and the O.C. Troops
with the request that the hatches be opened to enable a search to be made for the missing
articles. To our dismay, the Captain refused to allow the hatches to be tampered with.
However, as a great concession, the passengers concerned, many of whom were elderly and
included nuns and missionaries, were told that they would be permitted to enter the
unlighted holds with torches to look for their properties themselves. However, we
refused to be treated in this cavalier manner. Volunteers were called for from the ranks
of the younger civilians, and we then entered the holds armed with torches and lists and
descriptions of the missing baggage. I shall never forget the hours we spent in the
stifling heat of the ’tween decks with sometimes no more than three or four feet of
headroom between the top of the stowed baggage and the cover of the hatch. We shifted
mountains of trunks and cargo in search of the precious suitcases, but we did in the
end find everything we were looking for. But what really riled us, apart from the gross
inefficiency which had caused the situation in the first place, was that none of the
several hundred military personnel on board offered to lend us a hand in our errand of
mercy. The fact was that the officers and N.C.O.’s found they could no longer exact
the normal standards of discipline from the other ranks, who were in some cases now
quite out of hand. They had had quite enough of soldiering, and regarded themselves as