He glanced at his reflection in the store’s mirror and saw a new Angus, young but with a purpose

Their final view of England was Alum Bay’s red cliffs and the white rocks of the Needles, before the ship entered the Channel.

Angus’s companions were Captain Jack Hyslop and Lieutenant John Lindsay-MacDougall. Hyslop came from an Argylls family, his grandfather having served with the 93rd in the Crimea and during the Indian Mutiny, while his father fought in the Boer War and in France.

Hyslop was tall, good-looking, well-mannered and, while serving in Cairo in the 1920s, gained a reputation for ballroom dancing, but it was shortlived. Not long afterwards, a main tendon in one of his legs was severed in a shooting accident.

John Lindsay-MacDougall, of Lunga on the Ardfern peninsula, was an Argyllshire laird. The MacDougalls had known the Macdonalds for generations; members of the two families had dined, partied, played sport, and even fought alongside each other. They had breathed the same sea air, tramped similar stretches of heather and dated each other’s sisters.

In a photograph of the officers at Trimulgherry, taken in January 1939, the three men, Hyslop, Angus, and Lindsay MacDougall, stand side by side in the centre of the middle row. No doubt their three-week sea voyage helped the trio forge a singular bond.

Overpowering

Passengers were not allowed to remain idle. Before breakfast, officers and men sweated on deck with a physical fitness regime. Officers performed a course of duties, taking it in turns to oversee the stowing and drawing of hammocks on the troop deck, attend each mealtime and inspect the mess deck three times a day.

The latter, known as ‘vomit and sweat,’ required a strong stomach, particularly when the going got rough: the pong of unwashed bodies and stench of vomit could be overpowering.

David Wilson writes that during their three-week voyage, there were courses in a host of subjects from Urdu, taught by senior Indian Army officers, lectures on India and the Indian Army to small arms training when they fired at a target in the sea towed from the ship’s stern.

These activities took place as the ship plied the waters from Cape Ushant to the Bay of Biscay; celebrated for its storms and rough waters, the latter can often be as calm as a mill pond.

HMT Lancashire reached the coast of Portugal and sailed south; although Lisbon, situated nine miles inland, was not visible from the sea, the Cintra hills and the ancient regal palace were. When they rounded the promontory of Cape St Vincent and Cape Sagres, they changed course and headed south-south-east towards Gibraltar.

Lying like a recumbent lion guarding the entrance to the Mediterranean, the island or ‘The Rock’ encapsulated the might of the British Empire. The historic fortress towering against a cloudless sky was an impressive sight.

After Gibraltar, they hugged the southern coast of Spain; with a pair of binoculars Angus could see the Graeco-Roman towers of Malaga’s cathedral and, in the distance, the Sierra Nevada. The young man peered through his glasses at the Andalusian coastline to see a country in the throes of civil war.

To starboard was Africa but at Tunisia’s Cape Bon, the coastline turned sharply south. From this point until the Nile delta 1,000 miles east, land views were obscured.

Familiar

As they sailed towards Egypt, the days became shorter and the sea calmer; fewer passengers suffered from seasickness.

With the warmth, soldiers slept on deck while others settled down to guard duty, played tombola, or attended to their mess orderly duties.

After reaching Malta on its seventh day at sea, the Lancashire continued until it sighted land. Moving from the familiar blue of the Mediterranean, the ship fetched up in shallow water beneath which were the sands of the Nile.

From the deck, the troops saw trees, small houses and minarets. This was Port Said, the bustling gateway to the East.

When the ship docked the troops disembarked and, after performing a route march and taking a bath, they were free to explore.

Travelling on the Dorsetshire, David Wilson stopped here for 10 days in the sweltering sun. For most young men, Port Said was their first experience of coping with hawkers and vendors who preyed on the passengers and crew of troopships and oceangoing liners.

Henry C. Day, a chaplain on a troopship at this period, wrote of Port Said that “architecturally, socially and morally it leaves much to be desired”. I’m sure Angus was irritated by the molesting guides, amused by the undesirable postcards on display and intrigued by extraordinary scenes in which the ‘gully gully men’ (local magicians) plied their acts.

The canny young officer grabbed the chance to buy duty free goods, as there were bargains to be had. What Angus desired was a good camera (in one letter he mentions how he intended to take colour photographs), and it may have been at Port Said that he bought one.

The obvious place to go was Simon Arzt’s department store on the waterfront. Served by assistants dressed in white with red tarbooshes, Angus bought a ‘Bombay bowler,’ a khaki solar pith helmet with a flattened crown and a thick brim.

As he placed it on his head and glanced at his reflection in the store’s mirror, he saw a new Angus, young but with a purpose.

He was going places and would succeed. Family tradition expected no less.

Hazards

Unlike the other ranks, officers had to buy their own gear, so Angus stocked up with tropical clothing, bought pills to ward off a queasy stomach, and treated himself to a haircut but drew the line at visiting the photographic studio. That could wait.

The next stage (and the most memorable) was their 86½-mile passage down the Suez Canal. With a speed limit of 6 to 7 knots, the ship’s crossing took 15-20 hours to complete, but their transit was delayed by a mass of other craft on the waterway.

She had hazards to contend with, such as freakish sandstorms and thick fog. Vessels were forbidden to overtake except when they reached Timsah and the Great Bitter Lakes.

Situated at 10km intervals were stations with high masts giving instructions to passing ships.

Mail ships gained preference over oil tankers and freighters carrying dangerous cargo, which sailed only by day.

At night the Lancashire was guided by a searchlight fixed to her prow. The diffused light made the water beneath her appear pitch black, while the banks on either side of the liner shone a ghostly white.