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Rawalpindi - Peshawar
E.Route : Rawalpindi - Peshawar : PTD ------- : PTA ------- : P.Dist. -------.
A.Route : Rawalpindi - Peshawar : ATD 0838 : ATA 1130 * : A.Dist 11O.5 m
- Depart Rawalpindi 0838
- 1032 - 1037 Crew change/bog stop.
- Arrive Peshawar 1130
P.A.Spd. ---------- : Gross A.Spd 38.1mph. : Net A.Spd. 39.4mph
Stop Time 00:04 hr. : Speedo TD 10560.5 : Speedo TA. 11671.
Comment : Not one of the most strenuous days of travel, although in fact it took rather more time ( until 1221 ) to find the Air Force Base, the presumed hospitality of which had been the reason for our haste on the two previous days.
Jim Lindsay's diary:
12 September
A comical start to the day. I woke with a bursting bladder and simply could
not get the stiff catch of the passenger door to open. I had to wait until
someone outside stirred and was able to help with the door. Breakfast was melon
and porridge and then we were off to the oasis of good living promised by the
US base at Peshawar.
It was only a hundred mile journey, lengthened a little bit by Johan's
navigation in the final stages, but there was disappointment at the end.
Something had aggravated the Colonel's inherent strictness about security and
we were barred. Everyone was very friendly but there was no way in. At the gate
was a canteen for the local workers on the base, and we did at least get food
there. The proprietor was quick to grasp the chance of extra profit. There was
mutton curry on the menu at R2.40 but, he explained, that price was for the
curry without anything but vegetables. How a mutton curry could not have mutton
in it was hard to grasp but his mercenary motives were easy to understand.
Meanwhile Clyde and his friends had raided their Commissary and come up with
a wonderful random selection of things for us to eat. There was ice cream,
marshmallows, beans, bacon and egg, coffee and drinking chocolate. After that
they guided us to our overnight stop back at Hardynge Hall again. Glasgow and
Durham were already there but some others had carried on towards Kabul.
AS was doing his best to fix some kind of valve that had been badly repaired
by local mechanics. At some time not long before he had stood on a nail, but
cleverly used a bit of one of the shredded tyres to make a kind of overshoe to
keep the wounded part off the ground.
The Americans planned a barbecue and I went shopping with Johan and Liz again,
guided by a bunch of our hosts. This was probably not a good idea. They were
generous but clearly had not spent any time doing routine food shopping before.
They also seemed to be unpopular. A couple of us were hit on the ear with
stinging pellets of some kind from catapults or airguns, and this had never
happened before.
The barbecue was at Hardynge Hall and the Americans insisted on doing the
cooking. There was steak. Afterwards there was rather an odd party at a Pakistani
General's house. There were a lot of rather drunk elderly Americans and we could
not help feeling that the invitation was really for the women.
The GIs by Liz Y
It was said that the plane we saw flying low towards the American base in Peshawar was bringing
daily rations of fresh food for the military personnel. The base didn't source its supplies locally.
We made the acquaintance of two or three GIs from the Peshawar base, courtesy of C, a GI whom some
of our group had met on the outward journey. These young men were draftees of about our age, not
career soldiers like the hardened marines we later encountered near Kabul. The base was rumoured
to have many amenities for the soldiers. Even the sentry box by the gate was said to be air-conditioned,
but the culture and customs of people from the USA were very different from those of Pakistan. The
GIs were drawn to us as a mixed group of young people of a not too dissimilar cultural background
to their own. We were happy enough to spend a bit of time with them.
On the afternoon of our arrival a small party of us, in the company of these new friends, was assigned
the task of food shopping for the contingent. A barbecue at our campsite on college grounds was planned
for that evening. It was anticipated that the GIs would also contribute some goodies from the fresh
food stocks at the base.
In the 1960s, many American young people had been raised in a time of some affluence. They looked bigger,
better fed than the average person in Pakistan, and probably than we did too, who had grown up in the
austerity of 1950s post-war Europe. On the shopping trip, we sensed that local people looked rather
askance at the American soldiers. In their company, our reception didn't have the same warmth. Otherwise
these particular GIs were pleasant, unassuming company for the afternoon. We shared the same bemused
curiosity about the way local milkshakes were sometimes served in carefully riveted-together glass mugs,
like the intact jug-handled mugs used for beer in the West.
Of course our purpose and status in Peshawar were very different. These men lived with the possibility
of being deployed to a theatre of war in Vietnam. I talked a little about this with L, a young man from
California. He said he wanted to go to Vietnam, something he had to do, but I glimpsed a passing shadow
in his eyes. Like many soldiers in other times, he basically trusted the overseas policy intentions of
his country in conducting this offensive and was prepared to do what he saw as his duty. I've wondered
over the years whether these young men survived Vietnam, what impact it had on their lives.
The evening barbecue was a success. C and his friends brought a wealth of plastic-wrapped, chilled meat
and other items of food from the base. For us this was a mouth-watering feast. Our normal diet was
fairly frugal. We had a daily budget of one shilling per head. We rarely had meat, except from a stock
of tins. The Americans did the cooking, but I was among the cook assistants that night along with Pru
and I can't remember who else. Part of my role was to remove the meat from the wrapping for it to be
placed on the barbecue. The cooking process went smoothly and our Comex contingent made the most of
the opportunity to tuck into the abundant bonanza of food.
After the meal, most of the group went off to a party to be held with military personnel from the base.
Some of us remained behind. Generally we never left our camp equipment completely unattended. Anyway,
I was clearing up a bit of debris, wrappers from the meat and so on, when I came across some still-wrapped,
uncooked meat which had somehow been overlooked. I was a bit worried that I would be blamed and so incur
the wrath of the group. We had been geared to making the most of this unaccustomed binge and had no means
of keeping food refrigerated for a later date. I was just wondering what to do, when I realized that a
college caretaker had noticed the meat, so I asked him whether he would like to have it. He assured me
that he would, was eager to accept the offer and duly hastened away with it. We had thoughtlessly not
invited the college groundsmen to the barbecue. I think they might have been pleased to participate.
