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Mickey Goes to India
May 1936
In or about May 1936, a batch of us embarked for a town named Lahore in what was then India. Lahore is now the capital of Pakistan. Myself and Micky were drafted. I had not seen Micky for some time, and did not see him for a long time after, even though we were in the same company, but I heard plenty about him, not all to his credit. Our prospects of coming home to England for about seven years were pretty remote
But W.W. II intervened in September 1939, so it was about nine years before the survivors of our regiment in the Japanese prison camps saw 'Blighty' again. There were not many left alive after our captors’ hospitality. Those that did survive were in a sorry condition physically and mentally.
On our arrival at Lahore, we were assigned to our respective companies, Micky, to "C" company, me to "B" company. I had no contact with Micky for quite a time after that. Mick, no doubt, with all his charm, and what the Americans call "bull excrement" had wangled a cushy number, dodging, parades, guard duties, fatigues - all those things that makes the army so worthwhile! How right I was, Micky had landed a job in the military hospital, as a regimental nurse, to complement the Royal Army Medical Staff. Coincidentally, I was given a job in the same hospital on the same ward as Micky, who was very efficient and well liked by all the patients and staff.
He had a great sense of humour and made the job, which was very demanding, more tolerable, oh, of course the female nurses all loved him, but Micky, despite his humour and his geniality, could bear a grudge, especially when his pride had been hurt. On one such occasion, the Senior Matron reprimanded Micky, who took great umbrage. She had upbraided him in front of most of the staff. The Hospital stood in fairly arid ground, big toads or frogs were prolific,
Their constant croaking at night disturbed the hospital staff and patients. The Matron usually had a nap when she was on the night shift. Micky and I were also on the night shift at the time of his reprimand.
At about two a.m. Micky grabbed a wicker work waste paper basket, and said, “ come with me Spooz". He gave the basket to me. I was puzzled. Then he started to collect some of the frogs, and, putting them into the basket, said "follow me Spooz”, still very puzzled, I followed him into the hospital building obediently. He made his way to the matron’s office, took the basket from me said "open the door Spooz". I did, the Matron was well asleep, head on her desk. Micky threw the contents of the basket into the room, then we both legged it to our desk along the corridor. About half an hour later, there was a loud scream, you have guessed right! It was matron. “Myles! Spooner! " she screamed. Micky was the first away followed by yours truly.. Micky, who pretended to be short sighted, (when the occasion suited him) said, “ what’s wrong matron?"
Matron stood on top of the desk, screaming "look at all these frogs Myles". The “shortsighted” Micky took over! “ Frogs matron? ah canny se onny, frogs" He peered about quizzically, "ah"ll need to get ma specs". Mick returned very much later complete with specs balanced on the end of his nose, said "Och matron, I can see the wee bastards”.
Micky out-jumped the frogs, knocking the table over, scattering papers over the floor. Eventually we rounded up the frogs (toads?) I think that a few mavericks got away, so what the hell, perhaps their great great, etc, grand children are still kicking about there now (62) years on, unless Macdonald’s have built on their habitat (fancy a frogburger?)
Micky was a dramatic person, prone to exaggerate somewhat. I remember soon after the frog incident, Mick rushed to me and said that he had caught the most enormous snake; it was caught by Mick in a dimly lit corridor, running alongside the ward in which we were working, Mick's story: - "I was walking along the corridor when I heard a hissing noise, I knelt down and extended my hand, and said “here, pussy, wussy, come on pussy, wussy. Just then the moon came from behind a cloud, lighting the place up. To my horror I was confronted by a gigantic hooded cobra, I grabbed a wee stick that was lying near by, and fended off the snake, which was preparing to strike. There was a lidded enamel bucket nearby. I quickly grabbed the bucket, threw it over the snake., then slammed the lid on. Afterwards, I managed to put some chloroform into the bucket".
By this time, Mick and I were joined by other members of the staff. We all trooped into the corridor and looked into the bucket. In it there was a very tiny snake (it may have been venomous). The stick far from being "wee", was as long as a clothes line prop, and very thick.
I cannot vouch for the truth of this next story that involved Michael, but I suspect a large part was true. Soldiers in India in the year 1936, were mostly fit, in the prime of life, their chance of having sex was rare, and the pay was low. The unlicensed brothel in the area was out of bounds to troops, and an extremely harsh punishment meted out to anybody caught on the premises. The punishment was even harsher if any soldier contracted venereal disease, which some did. There were a few enlightened members of the colonial administration, mainly medical officers, army mostly, who advocated licensed brothels, but the civilian administration was dead against the idea. There were no antibiotics at that time and very little prophylactic treatment available; so clean sex was denied to men in their prime and they went for the illegal option. Of course, the nation was in the post Victorian era, where morals were high, but in secret, conduct was loose. Today we are at the other end of the spectrum, but it is more in line with our nature. However, I digress.
One of the most progressive army medical officers was one Major Scrivens. rumor had it that he used to bribe some of the Indian local males to have their appendixes, (appendices? appendi?) removed by him, so that he could perfect his surgical techniques. There is an affliction of the penis called balinitis which affects the penis glands making them itch. It was common in India and affected some of the soldiers. The only sure preventative is circumcision. Major Scrivens, one of the forward-looking officers took every opportunity in urging all of us, as to the sure way to prevent contracting said ballinitis by being circumcised. We soon had ward full of the post-operation circumcision patients.
There was in the ward a lovely, shapely, well-endowed (female!) army nurse, who wore short skirts, as was the current fashion of the day. A rumour spread around the ward that the lovely nurse wore scanty, or no knickers at all, beneath that short skirt. With circumcision, after the loss of the foreskin, the shortened end of the skin is stitched to the glands penis. Major Scrivens was perplexed when some of the patients had burst their stitches despite them taking an anti -aphrodisiac to prevent an erection (potassium bromide was given the patients). The ruptured stitches apparently occurred when the nurse was at the opposite end of the ward;the chaps at the intact- stitching end of the ward felt cheated when a different nurse was put on duty. The following day, in fact, they got quite cocky! But Major Scrivens was very annoyed. I later heard that he and the lovely nurse married, resigned from the army, went home to England and started up in the medical business; Mick suggested that their business was named " Stitchum and Bustem Unlimited "
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