When Barrie asked me if I’d like to contribute a piece on the Cameronians Blog about the Home Front for the 75th Anniversary Commemorations, I wondered just where to start and with what relevance to the Regiment?
However, a trawl through the newspaper archive on Find My Past is absolutely addictive, you do quickly end up heading down roads you didn’t plan to go down so self-discipline is vital. But as someone whose Mother was a schoolgirl in Clydebank during the duration of the war, I do have a personal interest in the subject. The questions I wish I could ask now that I didn’t at the time!
I’m fascinated by the build up to hostilities and all the plans and preparations in the local area, I suppose this stems from being a child of the Cold War growing up in Larkhall in the ’70s and ’80s and hearing our air raid siren being sounded regularly to summon our local Fire Brigade into action. It always got your attention!
So reading through the newspapers of the late 1930s and the reporting on how the various schemes and plans were devised has a relevance today with the Covid-19 situation. The Hamilton Barracks would have been the centre point of any planning in terms of available personnel, any air raid in the local area would’ve called upon the full resources of the Regiment at the Depot to assist with rescue and recovery duties, but there was a lot more going on all over Lanarkshire.
The most obvious and still visible signs of the Home Front defences in the local area are of course the remains of the two Anti-Aircraft Gun Emplacements, part of the Clyde Defences. One is up at Limekilnburn alongside the Strathaven Road while the other was situated in the huge camp on the Blantyre Farm Road. The defences in the area were under the command of the 42nd Anti-Aircraft Brigade of the Territorial Army. The 100th Heavy Anti-Aircraft Regiment had it’s Headquarters in Motherwell and was formed in 1939, initially made up of two Batteries, the 304th and 305th. The Emplacements were equipped with four 3.7 inch guns, a Control Bunker with height finding equipment and a Magazine. The sites are still relatively intact to this day, visible on Google Maps and on foot or bicycle in the case of Blantyre Farm. Limekilnburn had also been one of the proposed locations pre-war for a local airfield and fighter station. The remains of another Emplacement are situated near Busby and the White Cart Water.
Three pictures of the Blantyre Farm Road site taken on one of my cycling expeditions in early 2019, with some lovely local artwork added to it.
The most public of the plans were the evacuation and home shelter schemes. Various plans were drawn up for the evacuation of schoolchildren from high threat areas to the countryside, as well as what to do during raid alerts if they were still residing in Hamilton. Even more ominous was the report in 1938 that 350,000 gas masks had been stockpiled in Lanarkshire to be distributed on the eve of war breaking out.
As for public shelters, while many families in Hamilton would be busy building Anderson Shelters in their gardens or preparing their house as shown in the official government booklet, the residents of the newly built houses of the Fairhill Housing Scheme had purpose built, fully equipped basement shelters large enough for four households to take cover in, complete with protection against gas attacks. The official 1938 Home Office issued booklet makes absorbing if grim reading, with step-by-step guides on how to strengthen your house against bomb damage, fire fighting, first aid and most of all preparing your inner “Refuge Room” against the great fear of the time, the use of Mustard Gas. This was vividly portrayed in the 1936 film adaptation of the HG Wells book “Things to Come” with the air raid on “Everytown” that foretold the start of a thirty year long World War beginning on Christmas Day 1940. Combined with the news reports from the Spanish Civil War, the fear of a massive, destructive aerial assault was very real at the time.
As an aside, it’s remarkable to compare the 1938 Home Office booklet with the later Cold War equivalents, the 1960s Civil Defence Handbook #10 and the now legendary Protect and Survive from the late 1970s. The most sobering aspect is how little changed in their content over the decades with the “Refuge Room” becoming the “Fall Out Room” and radioactive fall-out replacing poison gas as the main concern. Even the current “Stay at Home” Covid-19 guidelines have strong echoes of these old civil defence books and the strong stay at home message contained in them.
The Hamilton air raid siren, connected to the National Air Raid Siren Network was situated atop the Burgh Electrical Works. The siren was tested just before the war and again in 1940 when the threat of invasion was very real and before the Luftwaffe came calling to the Clyde in 1941.
The sights and sounds of the war would’ve been highly visible above and around Hamilton, not just because of the huge part the Cameronians played in local life but with so many people in uniform, air raid precautions and the night time Blackout. Post war, so much of it would’ve gathered in Allan Gray’s Garage and Yard down in Braidwood where he did a roaring trade in war surplus lorries, equipment and huts after the War Office sales in Douglas and the decommissioning and dismantling of so many wartime camps. At one auction he was even acting as an agent on behalf of an Argentine concern, buying ex-Army transport to be shipped to South America while for himself he bought a few armoured cars. Even the Duke of Hamilton and his brothers, through the Hamilton Estates, were into war surplus and buying an amphibious DUKW truck at that same auction. They wanted to trial it as a potential ferry service up in the Hebrides.
Over 400 men of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) were, at some point, captured and made prisoner by the enemy during the Second World War. Almost 150 of these were men of the 2nd Battalion who were captured during the Battle of France and subsequent retreat from Dunkirk.[1]
German Prisoner of War tag, issued to 14383490 Rifleman Robert Smith, 2nd Cameronians. The tag was issued at Stalag VII/A, Germany’s largest POW camp, and is engraved with Smith’s prisoner of war number, 132263.
The plight and welfare of these men was of immediate concern to the Regiment. A number of initiatives and funds were soon in place to provide prisoners with both practical assistance, in the form of food and comfort packages, and with moral support – by way of letters of encouragement, reassurance, and the promise that they and their families would not be forgotten.
As early as November 1939, Major-General Sir Eric Girdwood, Colonel of the Regiment, outlined his plans for a Prisoner of War fund. The fund would be used to send comfort packages to men of the Regiment who were prisoners of war. A similar scheme had been successfully operated in the First World War, administered by Mrs Evelyn Vandeleur, and run out of the Riding School in Hamilton.[2] Evelyn was the wife of Colonel C. B. Vandeleur D.S.O., a Cameronian officer who had himself been a prisoner in the First World War and would find fame as the first British officer to successfully escape and make his way back to Britain.
The new Fund would be administered by Mrs Irene Grant, wife of Major D. C. Grant, Officer Commanding the Regimental Depot Party at Hamilton Barracks. The prisoners’ relief-parcel service was operated by Mrs Jessie Sandilands, wife of Lieutenant-Colonel V. C. Sandilands D.S.O.
The wartime editions of the regimental magazine, The Covenanter, include regular lists of donors and subscribers to the Prisoners of War fund. Donations poured in from the extended regimental family; veterans of the regiments, widows of soldiers killed in service, families of those currently serving – all contributed money to improve the lot of Cameronians in captivity, and at a time when many people would be experiencing hardships of their own. Donations were forthcoming from friends of the Regiment from as far afield as the United States of America, and from closer to home; the post office in Falkland, birthplace of Richard Cameron after whom the Regiment takes its name, collected £20 in public donations and gifted this to the Prisoner of War Fund.
At a regimental level, various fetes, revues and entertainments were put on by the Regimental Depot and Infantry Training Centre at Hamilton to help boost the Comfort Funds.
Programme for a revue held at Hamilton Town Hall in March 1940, to raise money for the Comforts for the Troops Fund.
In 1941, the Regimental Band from the Depot in Hamilton carried out a highly successful fundraising tour of Lanarkshire, where they managed to raise several hundred pounds.
Letters from Cameronian prisoners of war tell just how greatly the men appreciated the efforts of those at home:
January 8, 1943
Dear Hon. Secretary and Committee: Your parcel sent to me dated 25/9/42 arrived safely 31/12/42. As this is the first clothes parcel I have received since becoming a prisoner of war, no words can adequately express my sincerest thanks for this very welcome gift and my utmost appreciation of the noble work of committee and workers. Yours faithfully, L. Addison, Regt. No. 3247334, Stalag XXB.
The Covenanter May 1943
The families of men who were taken prisoner endured constant worry and concern over the welfare of their loved one. It would often takes many weeks or even months before a soldier would be confirmed as a prisoner of war. In the first instance, men were simply reported as ‘missing’. It was only once their whereabouts in a prison of war camp could be confirmed, usually in collaboration with the Red Cross, that their status would be changed to ‘prisoner of war’.
Pamphlet issued to the wife of Rifleman Robert Smith, taken prisoner in Italy on 19th March 1944.
The parents of Lionel Neighbour were informed that their son had been posted as ‘missing’ on May 31st 1940. Lionel was one of many men of 2nd Cameronians reported missing during the retreat and subsequent evacuation at Dunkirk. It wasn’t until the morning of August 30th, however – three months later – that a letter arrived from Lionel, stating that he was a prisoner of war. During that time, Lionel’s parents had no news concerning his whereabouts and were starting to fear the worst. The relief of a very concerned mother and father is evident in their reply to their son’s letter:
Letter to Lionel Neighbour from ‘Mum & Dad’ on learning that he was alive and a prisoner of war.
Monday 2nd September 1940
Dear Lionel
I hope you will be able to realize that the amount of joy and pleasure your letter gave to us all is almost indescribable. We were officially informed from records that you were reported missing on the 31st May. Every day and every week since then we have been hoping to receive some word to say that you were alive until quite recently when we all began to give up hope. When the wonderful news arrived, we could hardly believe our eyes. We see your letter was written on the 21st June but we only received it on Saturday morning the 30th Aug. I hope this letter will not take as long to reach you. And was everyone at the “Duck-in-the-pond” and elsewhere pleased also. They have all asked us to send you their kind regards & best wishes and we all sincerely hope it will not be so very long before we shall see you again, in the meantime we all wish you as good a time as is possible under the circumstances. We are all very pleased to know that you are keeping well and being treated decently. If they treat you as well as we treat our prisoners of War I know that you will not come to much harm. Well Lionel son, kept smiling, it may be a long lane yet, although I hope not, but an ending to this terrible affair must come sometime, and then I hope we shall all meet together again and have one glorious celebration. Things are much the same as when you saw us last here at Stanmore. I am still with the old firm and have recently obtained a couple of contracts. Mum, Emily, Winnie, little Michael, Pat, Brenda, Joan & Tommy are all keeping very well. Joan has now left school and is trying to get a job near home. We are not anxious for her to commence work, but if she can get one locally it will keep her out of mischief. Phillip, Stanley, Charlie & Jack are all keeping fit and well at the moment. Charlie passes out in a couple of months. Well Lionel son, there’s one item of very bad news to tell you – Poor Clive was killed in action on the 3rd Aug. Jack Neighbour is still busy and he and the family are all keeping well, this also applies to Uncle Ben and Aunt Phylis. Also Grandpa Neighbour is still keeping well, at any rate he was when we saw him last which was about 3 weeks ago. Hope to hear from you again very shortly and if there is anything you require and we are allowed to send it, you can rest assured we shall do so. We all send you our fond love and best wishes.
Yours affectionately
Mum & Dad
On 19th March 1944, around 35 men of ‘B’ Company, 2nd Cameronians, were taken prisoner while engaged with the Axis forces around the Anzio beachhead. Among those taken prisoner were Robert Smith and Reginald (Reg) Poynter. Robert had left a wife and young son back home in Glasgow when he joined The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles). Reg had been married to his beloved Millie for little over a year when he enlisted in January 1943. The two men, along with their comrades who had been taken prisoner, would endure months of hardship as they made the long journey from Rome, through Austria, into Germany, and ultimately to Poland – covering most of the distance on foot through a series of gruelling, forced marches. Robert’s wife was given a map of Europe by the Red Cross, on which were marked the various Italian and German prisoner of war camps. As news trickled in over the weeks and months as to her husband’s current whereabouts, Mrs Smith would write a number next to the name of the camp in which her husband was detained. Given the men’s constant movement and the delays in forwarding letters and parcels to prisoners through the Red Cross, it was almost impossible for these prisoners to correspond with their families back home. The map was Mrs Smith’s only means of keeping in touch with her husband.
Section of the Red Cross map issued to Mrs Smith, who has numbered the camps Stalag 344 and Stalag VIIIB – the last two camps in which her husband was detained.
Reg Poynter somehow managed to keep a diary covering much of his time as a prisoner of war. Through this we get some measure of the stress, loneliness, anxiety and physical hardship that was typical of life as a prisoner of war. Being unable to communicate with Millie back home and reassure her that he was alive was a daily torture for Reg. His diary is filled with little messages to Millie, written in lieu of the letters that he was so seldom able to send, and even then never knowing if she would ever receive them.
Mon. 27 (March) – Still in this dirty camp waiting to be moved and we had everything taken from us. I could [do] with some of Millie’s home cooking and a smoke.
Tue. 28 Well Millie, food is very bad, we are starving, all looking very weak, one loaf of Black Bread between five a day.
Wed. 29 Oh Millie, how I miss you, and worried wondering how things will turn out, wish this war would end.
Thur. 30 Shall be pleased to move from this camp, the food is the same and the fleas are eating us away.
In this extract Reg has been a prisoner for three months. Here he describes the march north towards Germany.
Fri. 16 (June) I’ve said to Millie sometimes not to waste crusts, but Millie would always see I had the best, now I am in need of them, the old saying ‘waste not want not’.
Sat. 17 We moved out of here, walked 18kg [km] through the night and slept on a football field in Florence, then when daylight came we walked –
Sun. 18 – all the way back to the same camp as we could not get through for bombing. I am very tired, stiff and hungry.
Memo. When we marched through Florence, some of the boys tried to escape. Jerry just shot them and left them in the road for trucks to run over – what a terrible sight.
After almost six months of being a prisoner of war, Reg arrived in Poland where he would remain until his liberation by the Russians on 16th March 1945.
Fri. 8 (September) Parcel day so had a good feed, the weather is very warm like midsummer, there’s been a cricket match today and football tomorrow.
Sat. 9 I am not too bad, only worried about my next move which I think is tomorrow. I am very fed up of this life & wonder how I stick it.
Sun. 10 Moving to a new camp in Poland, it looks like the mines – just fancy, after all I’ve been through, now come to this.
Memo. Yes, its the mines alright, in Poland in a new camp, which is OK. food not so good and no parcels.
Both Robert Smith and Reg Poynter would make it home once again and be reunited with the loved ones they had been separated from for so long. Their final prison camp in Poland, where they had been forced to labour in local coal mines, was liberated by the advancing Russian Army. After another series of gruelling marches ahead of the Russians, the men finally made it to the Allied lines, malnourished and suffering from the hardships of prison life, but alive.
The 1st Cameronians spent the duration of the Second World War in India and Burma, fighting the Japanese. A number of 1st Battalion men would ultimately become prisoners of war of the Japanese, and endure terrible hardship and cruelty at the hands of their captors. Many of these men would spend the duration of their imprisonment in the notorious Rangoon Gaol, such as Rifleman Leslie Spoors, who wrote a memoir of his time as a prisoner of war under the Japanese:
“I was captured on the 19th April having been wounded in the arm with shrapnel the day before. We were all wounded – that’s why we were taken so easily, we couldn’t make a run for it. We were taken to a group of Burmese huts where our boots were removed, and the laces used to tie our hands behind our backs. More and more men were brought in during the night until eventually we were cramped together on the floor. It was a Sunday when we were put into the huts and we were there four days and four nights. We had nothing to eat all that time and nothing to drink although we made feeble attempts to drink our own urine. All our body wastes just collected beneath us in the huts. I thought we might never see the light of day again. But we did, for after four days we were freed from the indescribable stench. Captain Bradford-Martin had been brought into the hut during the first night, along with his batman. On the third day, we heard rain on the roof, a Mango shower as we called it, and Bradford-Martin decided to try and break through the thatched straw. Whether he intended to escape or just get a drink I never knew, but his batman followed him. They had both got through the hole they had made when two shots were heard. The batman fell back through the hole – Bradford-Martin was never seen or heard of again. It wasn’t long before the Japs came in and if the batman wasn’t already dead, they soon made sure that he was.”[3]
The rather grainy photograph, above, comes from The Covenanter, and shows liberated prisoners from the 1st Battalion at a tea party held in their honour by General Sir O’Connor (who himself had been a prisoner of war in Italy). Five of the men shown are former prisoners (judging by the thinness of their arms presumably they are the two men seated left, the man seated right, and the two men seated at the front). Their names are given in the article as: Sergeant McKenna, Rifleman Sherwin, Rifleman Spoors, Rifleman Leggatte, and Rifleman Martin.
Life as a prisoner of the Japanese was particularly brutal – the death rate among allied prisoners under the Japanese being almost seven times higher than those under Germany and Italy. Men of Lanarkshire’s local TA unit, the 155th (Lanarkshire Yeomanry) Field Regiment Royal Artillery, suffered particularly at the hands of the Japanese following the fall of Singapore in February 1942 – 90 of their number would die as prisoners of war.
There were some amazing instances where Cameronian prisoners of war were able to escape. An Evening Times article from May 1st 1944, quoted in The Covenanter , recounts one such story:
The remarkable escape of a Blantyre soldier from a Japanese prisoner of war camp in Burma was fully described to a ‘Times’ correspondent on his unexpected return last week to his sister’s home at 5 Watson Street, Blantyre, Lanarkshire.
He is Rifleman John Cook, The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), and has been on service in India for five years. About a year ago, Rifleman Cook, with a number of his companions, was taken prisoner, but after six months in captivity he managed to escape.
Their prison camp was in a clearing in the heart of the jungle, which was guarded day and night, and the food supplied to the men was a disgrace. The men had little opportunity of conversing with each other, but freedom was naturally uppermost in their minds.
One night the opportunity did present itself, and Cook and six of his companions decided to make a bold bid for freedom. In the darkness they made their way past the guard but their escape was detected and in the hue and cry which followed, Cook was the only one to gain his freedom, but he does not know what happened to his companions.
After wandering through the jungle for days and living solely on water melons and what fruits he could find, he ultimately reached a Ghurka camp.
As a result of his sufferings he was very ill for some time and completely lost his voice. Afterwards, British officers arrived and had him medically attended to.
Rifleman Cook is home on 28 days’ leave and expects that he will soon be back to his former health.
The most famous regimental escape story must belong to Lieutenant-General (later General Sir) Richard O’Connor, who had been a regimental officer with The Cameronians and would ultimately serve as Colonel of the Regiment. O’Connor had been captured by the Italians in North Africa in April 1941. O’Connor and a number of other senior officers would escape from their Italian prison camp in late 1943, and make their way back to Britain. O’Connor would go on to command VIII Corps during the invasion of Normandy in the summer of 1944.[4]
No account of Cameronian prisoners of war would be complete without mention of Lieutenant Colonel (later Major General) J. D. Frost, who was famously captured leading the 2nd Parachute Battalion at Arnhem during Operation Market Garden. Frost would be immortalised on screen, played by Anthony Hopkins, in the blockbuster movie “A Bridge Too Far”.[5]
John Frost, of Arnhem fame, as a newly joined 2nd Lieutenant with The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), 1933.
An article in the January 1945 edition of The Covenanter relayed the news of Frost’s fate after Arnhem:
Missing – Now P.O.W.
In our last issue, reported that Lieutenant-Colonel. J. D. Frost, D.S.O., Parachute Regiment, had been reported missing at Arnhem. We now learn from Colonel Frost’s sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Frogley … that he is a prisoner of war in Germany. From information received, it appears that Colonel Frost was hit in both legs by splinters from a trench mortar bomb and was taken into a house with the rest of the wounded. The house caught fire that night and a truce was made with the Germans, who took all the wounded to their hospital at Arnhem. Next day they were removed into Germany. Colonel Frost was later operated on by a French surgeon, and is now walking again. His many friends will be pleased to learn that he is safe and well and that their fears for his safety have been unfounded.
[1] These figures are based on the work of Mr Adrian Smith, who has been kind enough to share his research with me on numerous occasions.
[2] During the First World War the Riding School was still part of the Duke of Hamilton’s estate. It is now home to The Cameronians regimental museum displays as part of Low Parks Museum.
[3] Extract from “Rangoon Gaol”, privately published account of Rifleman Leslie Spoors.
[4] For a full account of O’Connor’s military service, capture and escape, see The Forgotten Victor by John Baynes.
[5] See Frost’s autobiographies; Nearly There (for his service with The Cameronians) and A Drop Too Many (for his wartime exploits with The Parachute Regiment).
This is the first of our #WW2at75 series of blog posts, exploring stories from the Second World War on the 75th anniversary of the War’s end. In this post we’re going to look at the Regimental Depot of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) at Hamilton Barracks and its role during the War. We will also take a look at some of the regimental personalities who, for a time, called Hamilton ‘home’.
Many of The Cameronians’ wartime recruits would have passed through Hamilton at some point during the Second World War. Hamilton Barracks had been home to The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) Regimental Depot since 1881[i]. Shortly after War broke out in late 1939, an Infantry Training Centre (ITC) was established in Hamilton and took over much of the training responsibilities from the Depot. In August 1941, the ITC moved to Aberdeen and was reconstituted as No. 9 Infantry Training Centre; Regimental Headquarters remaining with the Depot in Hamilton.
Hamilton Barracks were built in 1795 as a cavalry barracks, originally with space to accommodate 170 soldiers and 189 horses[ii]. The ground floor of the barrack buildings provided stabling for a regiment’s horses, with soldiers’ accommodation located above. By the 1850s the barracks were shared by a mix of cavalry and infantry units and were also headquarters of local militia regiment, the Royal Lanark Militia. The cavalry finally left the barracks in 1877 to go to Maryhill Barracks in Glasgow, after which Hamilton was left solely as an infantry barracks.
The barracks in Hamilton occupied a long, narrow strip of land running parallel to Bothwell Road from (what is now) Almada Street to just beyond (what is now) Caird Street. When built in the 1790s, the barracks were outside the centre of town, in a fairly rural area but with good road (and later rail) links to Glasgow and Lanark.
In 1881, Hamilton Barracks became home of the regimental depots of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) and the Highland Light Infantry (HLI); shortly after the First World War, the HLI depot moved to Glasgow leaving The Cameronians as sole occupants. The Regimental Depot was home to a permanent staff of Officers, Non-Commissioned-Officers and trained men, responsible for the training of new recruits. The Depot was also home to the soldiers’ Married Quarters, where the families of men on the Married Establishment (i.e. those who had married with their Commanding Officer’s permission) resided while their husband served overseas.
In the years preceding the Second World War, soldiers joining The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) would initially join the Regimental Depot where they would receive their recruits training over a period of roughly 18 weeks. On completion of this training they were generally posted to whichever Regular Battalion of the Regiment was on Home Service; this Battalion was then responsible for sending reinforcing drafts, as required, to the other Regular Battalion, usually stationed overseas.
In July 1939, shortly before the outbreak of war, a new batch of recruits arrived at Hamilton Barracks; these were the Militiamen – who would in fact become Britain’s first conscripts of the Second World War. This new ‘Militia’ was raised in 1939 in the face of growing tensions with Nazi Germany; the idea being to create a pool of trained men to call on in an emergency by giving all men between 20 and 22 years of age six months of military training before returning them to civilian life. With the outbreak of War in September the Militia scheme was abandoned and conscription introduced.
With Britain’s entry into the War came the need to train recruits on a scale not seen since the First World War. As such, an Infantry Training Centre (ITC) was established at Hamilton Barracks to help mould and shape this new influx of raw recruits into trained soldiers. The ITC quickly spilled over to Hamilton Racecourse where tented accommodation and training facilities were established. Officers posted to the Infantry Training Centre were either housed in the Officers’ Mess, or billeted in private residences throughout the town and beyond. A number of officers who lived locally were able to return home each night following training. One such officer who found himself in this fortunate position was Martin Ferrey, who lived in Burnside with his wife, Mary:
I was delighted to find that the war was conducted in proper British fashion at the Depot from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. and I was always able to catch the 5.15 bus home after the last parade had finished and furthermore sleeping out passes were readily available, but not I discovered on Thursday evenings which were decreed as “Mess Nights” when all officers had to dine in, a rule introduced by the Commanding Officer, who, as his home was in High Wycombe was the only one of us unable to spend the evening with his wife and children & I suppose felt lonely dining each night with only the Duty Officer to keep him company.[iii]
Thousands of men passed through the Infantry Training Centre in Hamilton for their military induction and training before being posted to a Cameronian battalion, either in the UK or overseas.
Recruits’ training focused primarily on drill and weapons training, where men were introduced to the tools of their trade, such as the .303 Lee Enfield rifle, the Bren light machine gun, and the anti-tank rifle. Regular route marches through the town and surrounding area helped raise general fitness and also condition the recruits’ feet to long marches in army-issue boots. Early recruits were identifiable by the distinctly un-Scottish forage cap; the Glengarry being the reserve of the trained soldier, officer and instructor. This rule was later relaxed (and due in no small part to increased availability of uniform and kit) and subsequently all recruits were issued with a Tam O’Shanter cap on arrival.
A typical day for the recruits involved Reveille (wake-up by bugle call) at 6:30am, breakfast at 7:15am, Parade at 8:30am, and then drill, training, kit cleaning etc., until 4:30pm. Although the day’s training was hard, recruits were able to make the most of their free time during the evenings and their one ‘day off’ a week. The Barracks in Hamilton had it’s own NAAFI (Navy, Army, and Air Force Institutes) canteen and a YMCA (Young Men’s Christian Association) hut where both organised and improptu entertainment could be found in the manner of shows, plays, sing songs etc. After a few weeks of initial training, when the recruits were considered to be of a suitably soldier-like appearance, they were allowed out of Barracks to sample what Hamilton had to offer:
There is not much to do except the Pictures; I hope to get out some time this week to see the ‘Thief of Bagdad’. There are 3 picture houses in the town, the Odeon, Regal, and a bug-hutch, it is a proper Barracks Town with plenty of local talent around the Barrack entrance…[iv]
There was even time to soak up some of the local culture, by way of organised visits to local attractions such as Hamilton Mausoleum:
Having thoroughly explored the wonders of the interior, our guide conducted us outside to the front of the building. I, for one, had admired the lions on their pedestals and the three carved heads several times before, but had never had them explained to me… The three human heads represent Life, Death, and Immortality. Life has a sad and worried look, Death looks very peaceful, but the most striking thing about the whole three is the expression in the eyes of Immortality. The eyes are open, a very unusual thing in a carving of stone, and they are marvelously alive. They seem to look into the distance over one’s head and to see something far beyond human vision. The expression is one of calm happiness. I shall certainly remember that look when I have forgotten even the echo of the Mausoleum.[v]
In August 1941, the Infantry Training Centre at Hamilton was moved to Aberdeen. There it was reformed as the No. 9 Infantry Training Centre along with the Highland Light Infantry, and the Gordon Highlanders. With the onus of the training of the Regiment’s recruits moved elsewhere, life at Hamilton Barracks calmed somewhat. By the mid-1940s many of the buildings in the Barracks had been condemned as a result of subsidence caused by coal mining. Indeed, the handsome Officers’ Mess building had already succumbed to this in 1934. The Mess building was demolished and the Royal Arms of George III, which had graced the portico facade since it was built, was moved to the Sergeant’s Mess building on the east side of the barrack square.
Although the steady stream of recruits had dwindled at Hamilton from late 1941 onwards, the Barracks was still home for the remainder of the War to the Regimental Depot Party, the Regimental Museum (which first opened in the Barracks in 1931), headquarters for various local Home Guard units, and to units of the ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service – the Women’s branch of the Army during Wartime).
The Regimental Depot Party, under the command of Major Donald Grant since early 1940, was responsible for the every-day admin of the Regiment, including the storage of regimental property, regimental finances, the regimental association, and the production and distribution of the regimental magazine, The Covenanter. The Depot Party were inundated with requests for information on officers and men who had been reported missing in action. As a result Major Grant and his small staff were in constant correspondence with officers in the various battalions of the Regiment on active service across the globe in an effort to keep tabs on the comings and goings of personnel and keep worried families furnished with news of their loved ones. The Regimental Comforts and Prisoners of War Funds were also run and administered from Hamilton Barracks, under the careful guidance of Mrs Irene Grant (wife of Major Grant) and Mrs V. C. Sandilands (wife of another senior Cameronian officer).
In his farewell letter to the Regiment on the end of his tenure as Colonel of the Regiment, Major-General Sir Eric Girdwood wrote:
There are so many people to whom, not only my personal thanks, but the thanks of the whole Regiment, are due, that it would require a special edition of “The Covenanter” if I were to name them all. Chief, however, amongst these are Mrs. Donald Grant, who as Hon. Secretary of The Cameronians Comforts and Prisoners of War Funds, who from their inception has never for one moment relaxed her efforts – not even when mourning the death in action of her only son [vi] – on behalf of the Regiment. Without her inspiring self-sacrifice and willing and cheerful work the successful issue of these activities could never have been achieved.
To Mrs. V. C. Sandilands for her splendid handling of our P.O.W. parcel service throughout all these long weary years of war to which the grateful letters of the recipients bear far better testimony than any poor words of mine. To both these ladies we all owe a debt of gratitude that we can never hope to repay.
To Major Donald Grant I can only say a very big “Thank You”. I do not speak of his excellent work as Depot Party Commander – that is for others to do. I speak of the hundred and one other matters, far outside his ordinary military duties, the burden of which invariably fell on his already overburdened shoulders, but never once in all the past 6 years did he fail me or anyone in the Regiment who sought his willing help. I know that every C.O. when he wanted anything at once appealed to “Donald.” His one and only thought has been throughout these years of endurance – “The Regiment.”
To my old and trusty friend, Lt.-Col. J. F. Lindsay, M.B.E., who has perhaps done more for the individual Cameronian than any man I know. With his age and service many would have been content to rest on their laurels. Not so he. Out and about at all hours of the day and night, traveling great distances in the extreme discomfort of wartime transport and the most inclement weather – nothing daunted him, his only incentive “Service” to the Regiment.
To both these officers I am so deeply indebted that I can find no words in which I can adequately express my gratitude for their help, sympathy and encouragement at all times.
And last but not least to that faithful little “Band of Brothers” – The Regimental Depot Party – Mr. Dunn, our able, willing and cheerful Bandmaster – to C.Q.M.S Ahlers, Mr. Poppleton and Mr. Thomson whose team work pulled us through all our difficulties. I can only say to these unsung heroes that they pulled their weight nobly and have earned the gratitude and the esteem of the whole Regiment.
Once more I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Goodbye. Good luck and God bless you all.[vii]
So, what then ultimately became of Hamilton Barracks and the Regimental Depot of The Cameronians?
The previously mentioned subsidence problems along with the overall age, condition and maintenance costs of Hamilton Barracks had led to the decision to remove The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) from Hamilton in the mid-1930s. New barracks were in the process of being built at Lanark when the outbreak of War put the Regiment’s move on hold. It wasn’t until 1947 that the Regiment would occupy its new Home at Lanark’s Winston Barracks.
Hamilton Barracks survived for several years after the Second World War, and was home to Territorial Reserve units of the Royal Army Service Corps, Royal Army Medical Corps, Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, and a unit of the Army Cadet Force and Air Training Corps. The aging buildings were finally demolished and, by the early 1970s, another multi-story building would soon grace the Hamilton skyline in the form of Bell College of Technology.
Today, much of the site of the Barracks is occupied by the (recently vacated) University of the West of Scotland. The only physical reminder that the Barracks ever existed on the site are the surviving sections of the original boundary wall and the Army Reserve and Cadet centre on Bothwell Road. With the recent move of the University to a new campus elsewhere in Hamilton the site is scheduled for future redevelopment.
It is a sobering thought to consider that many of the 1,222 men of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) who died in service during the Second World War would, at some point, have passed through the Regiment’s home town of Hamilton.
The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) connection with Hamilton is preserved through the Regimental Museum collection, housed within Low Parks Museum, just a few hundred yards east of where Hamilton Barracks – the Regiment’s home for the best part of a century – once stood.
[i] One of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) antecedent regiments, the 90th (Perthshire) Light Infantry, had its depot at Hamilton Barracks prior to its 1881 amalgamation with the 26th Cameronian Regiment.
[ii] One of the first units based in Hamilton Barracks was the Norfolk Regiment of Fencible Cavalry, who were stationed in the town in the late 1790s.
[iii] Ferrey, M. Unpublished MS in Museum Collection (CAM.G140)
[iv] Letter from Rifleman Wallis, April 1941. Private collection, courtesy of Mr Steven Brown
[v] “Impressions of the Mauseleum [sic]” by Private J. G. MacPherson. The Covenanter, September 1941
[vi] Major and Mrs Grant’s son, Geoffrey, was killed during the War. He was a Glider Pilot in the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve and was killed on operations in March 1945. Geoffrey and his wife, Barbara, had lived in Stonehouse.
[vii] Farewell Letter from the Colonel of the Regiment. The Covenanter, January 1946.
