2/LT RJ Meddings

1st Bn the Lancashire Fusiliers

Quetta

India

15 May 1941

Dearest Mother and all,

So, at long last I am here. You will have got my cable from Bombay before the other letters – one addressed to Kitty and one to Marjorie – from Cape Town, and about two to you written at different stages of the journey.

We continued our uneventful journey from Cape Town and about a fortnight ago, arrived in Bombay Harbour and another Meddings had reached India.  I need not, I think, try to describe Bombay to you – in any case we were only there about 6 hours before entraining for Quetta.  Indian trains are quite good.  Three of us shared a compartment – but compartment conveys a false impression.  It was more like the cabin of a ship, with two long seats on each side which made up into beds and two more bunks above which let down from the roof.  There was a chest of drawers and an armchair.  Also there was a lavatory adjoining with wash basin and a shower.  Six electric fans helped to keep the air cool, but even more than that we bought vast chunks of ice in a tin container – because this country is more than somewhat hot.

We had a train journey of three days and travelled via Delhi and Lahore.  We were met at Quetta station and found quarters temporarily opposite the Club.  The battalion was away in camp up on the frontier.  Quetta is 5,000 feet up so that the altitude had quite an effect – shortness of breath, irritability, and bleeding noses.  We fed at the Club and spent our days getting rigged up and our evenings usually at the Club also although we twice visited one of the town’s two cinemas.  Three days ago we left by truck to join the battalion, and are now in Camp, after an eight hour journey, part of which was on a nightmare mountain road.  So here I am sitting on my camp bed in my little tent, waiting for lunch.  The tent is tiny – about 7 feet by 6 feet.  My bed takes up precisely half the space, and in the rest I have a suit-case and a camp-chair, whilst on the earth floor I have a ground-sheet and sacking.  Various garments hang on coat hooks from the roof and a few belongings are balanced on an earthen shelf carved out of the xxx over which my tent is placed.

I have, of course, a native servant.  He is called Ghulam Mahommed Khan, is about fifty and looks as sinister as Fu Manchu.  He tells me he is married, lives about 40 miles from Rawalpindi, has one wife (he says he can’t afford more than one –he’s lucky, I can’t afford one) and about three children.

We met the C.O when we arrived.  He is LtCol? Glenford? And is not very old.  The other officers seem a nice crowd – not all regulars.  I am temporarily in D Coy; and the Company Commander is a xxxx – xxx xxxx who seems very decent.

Having fed, I am now back in my tent settling down for the afternoon’s siesta.

Well that brings me about up to date.  I haven’t been here long enough to say whether I am going to like it or not, but for the moment I have no complaints.

Anyway I am quite fit and young several shades browner.  I haven’t yet met anyone who knows Dad but I probably will.

I hope you are all fit and happy.  I will write to Kay and enclose a letter for Harry.

Please give my regards to the relations, and to Jack xxx, Mrs Preston, xx. Please give my love to Dad, Kitty, Marjorie and Gran.

Your loving

Ronald

xxxxxxxxxx