大象传媒

MY LIFE MY WAR

By
Bernard Hallas

Chapter 10a - The Catastrophe of Crete
Paratroopers, glider borne troops, Junker troop transports and troops coming over from the mainland of Greece in commandeered boats. Add to this, almost 10,000 specially trained mountain troops, and it will give you some idea of the size of the operation. To land a force like that it was obvious, even to us numbskulls on the lower deck, that they would be well protected, just how well came as no surprise.

Hitler had ordered all of the available aircraft in the vicinity to provide cover for the attack; later reports estimated that some four hundred bombers escorted by fighters were to attack the fleet and the defending troops. As if to put the finishing touches to the bad news, we now know that Cunningham had requested air cover for his fleet and had been told that no cover could be provided.

It is no small wonder that the Admiral of the Fleet decided to fight the battle from his office in Alexandria, and send Rear Admiral Rawlings to fly his Flag in Warspite. Given the opportunity, I would have been only too pleased to stay ashore with him. However, it was as we expected, they came in wings of one hundred planes at a time, breaking up into squadrons to deal with the various units of the fleet. It was a sight that I for one never want to see again.

The sky was a mass of exploding shells, there were dive-bombers coming in from every quarter. It was impossible to engage all attacking planes at any one time, and it must have been obvious to the command that we were going to suffer catastrophic casualties. At the time we had no idea where we were, information was passed to the guns that the capital ships were placing themselves between the attacking British cruisers and destroyers and the possible intervention of the Italian fleet.

This however did not materialise and we were fully occupied fighting off the dive-bombers. History books tell us that in the course of those few days, over four hundred bombs were aimed at the Warspite alone and every one else received their fair share. We were constantly being drenched with spray and shrapnel as dozens of 鈥榥ear misses鈥� dropped within yards of us, our hull proved itself and as far as we knew at the time, we sustained no leaks.

However, It has always been said that there is a law of averages and this time it proved true. I had been closed up at S.2 six inch for the whole of the forenoon watch. We had had our share of torpedo bombers and firing a fused barrage, with the fuses set at varying distances, and with skilled hands on the bridge, we had been successful in avoiding all of them. It did mean however that we were fully occupied from 0800 hrs that morning. Below decks we only had a limited view through the gun shields, but we could hear quite well the noise of the bursting shells and the noise of our own guns, and the shuddering of the ship鈥檚 hull as sticks of bombs burst all around us.

It was a heartening sound as the four inch anti aircraft guns on the deck above us carried out their incessant firing, it was only when the short range weapons opened fire that we paused and waited, and the Maltese ammunition suppliers dropped down on their knees and read their Rosaries.

We were still going strong at thirteen hundred hours, when we were relieved to find, that most of the planes had withdrawn. In the ensuing pause, Jimmy Hadley, a King鈥檚 Badge-men and Captain of S.2. for the afternoon watch jumped into the casement and said, 鈥淕o down and get your Tot Barney, it鈥檚 going flat on the mess.鈥� I thanked him and left the Starboard Battery. Closing the heavy armoured door behind me, I descended the ladder and sat down thankfully on the mess stool.

I was partaking of the holy nectar when a tremendous explosion lifted the whole deck about six inches. For a full minute, I along with others on the mess deck, were completely stunned and then as one, we rushed to the steel ladder and the armoured door. The door, which I had closed only minutes before, was so badly buckled, it took our combined efforts and a large steel lever to force it apart and make a gap big enough to squeeze through.

I was totally unprepared for the scene of devastation. We were enveloped in thick acrid smoke, the heat was intense and as the smoke partially cleared, we could see that there was burning paint everywhere and the sight that came into view when the smoke finally cleared will remain with me for ever.

There was a strange smell, which we identified as burning flesh. The six inch gun crews and amongst them my friend and shipmate Jimmy Hadley, were somewhere in a mixture of burning wood and melting steel. The cables were still on fire; clothing was still smouldering and was the only indication of where the wearer鈥檚 body was in this unbelievable carnage.

I automatically made my way to the spot that I had vacated only minutes earlier; Jimmy Hadley was unrecognisable but still alive. Gently he was carried down to an available mess table, but unfortunately, or should I say fortunately, he died within a few minutes. His own personal friends carried his body down to the keyboard flat and laid him to rest beside the members of my crew that had died with him. Tears were shed and no one was ashamed.

At that moment, there were six in all. Many more bodies had been taken down to the ship鈥檚 chapel. The Executive Officer, Commander Sir Charles Madden, was already in command injecting morphine into those who he thought needed it, there were many for whom it was too late. These were carefully tended and taken to various places in the ship away from all the frantic activity.

The bodies of all the Royal Marines were now in the keyboard flat and tenderly wrapped in their hammocks with a six-inch shell at their feet, laid in a row with sentries posted to guard them. The guns on the port side were still firing and the whole of our starboard side was completely immobilised, we had to break off the action and do our best to reach the safety of Alexandria. At 19.30.hrs we buried our dead and remembered all the good times that we had had together. It was a very sad occasion, made sadder by the knowledge that a good friend had taken my place and died. The only consolation was the fact that he and the members of both crews would have known nothing about it. In all, we lost sixty-nine casualties, thirty-eight including one officer died and thirty-one wounded.

At the time I decided to try and describe it in rhyme and penned the following verse.
鈥淗old that island,鈥� My Lords had said
鈥淗old it for what?鈥� we cried,
鈥淣ever mind for what, just hold it,鈥� they said
And holding it many of us died

For it had no real significance
It was neither here nor there,
It had no rich ores or priceless crops
Bur for grapes, it was almost bare.

But hold it we did for seven long months
From the month of November to May,
And then when we were ordered to leave
That鈥檚 when we had to pay.

Three battleships and one carrier damaged
Six Cruisers wrecked and three lost,
Six destroyers sunk, seven of no further use
And that wasn鈥檛 the end of the cost.

With the carrier damaged and of no further use
With no aircraft support for the fleet,
One thousand eight hundred sailors had died
We had to admit defeat.

Yes, we had our moments of valour
The fighting had not been one way,
There were names that would live on in history
As of yore on Trafalgar Day.

So if there鈥檚 to be another mistake
Like the one that happened that May,
Then send out the politicians
At least to earn some of their pay

For it鈥檚 easy to sit in comfort at home
Doing deals with a nod and a wink,
But to go out and die for a stupid mistake
Would at least make them sit back and think.

For if politicians had to stand up and fight
Instead of dreaming up laws,
Then there might be peace all over the world
And an end to all stupid wars

The lives that were lost for that barren isle
Were lives that were wasted in vain,
My Lords might stand and bare their heads
But it鈥檚 the people who bear the pain.

We were as yet not out of danger; the dive bombers followed us until we reached the point where we could call upon our own aircraft in North Africa. It appeared to be the last straw, when Commander Madden asked for volunteers to go on board HMS Orion and help her exhausted crew in clearing up.

Five hundred men, evacuated from Crete were assembled on the upper deck when the bombers came in. They had nowhere to go as a 1000 lb burst in their midst. One can only imagine the overall scene. In our section there were bits and pieces everywhere. It was a case of making bodies and placing them together in order to have something to bury.

Commander Madden, still cool, calm and collected, at least on the outside, ordered the many volunteers to change into boiler suits as blood ran out of the hastily built coffins and we were more than grateful when everything had been swilled down and secured. Only then could the Commander and his weary volunteers return to the Warspite.

Much to our surprise Andrew Cunningham returned on board and raised his flag once again. There were many comments from the ship鈥檚 company, such as, 鈥淚 would rather see Admiral Rawlings鈥� flag up there,鈥� and, 鈥淚t looks better ashore on the Admiralty Building鈥�. But who were we to judge? All we could do was curse the Government of the day for not sending whatever planes were available from Malta or North Africa, to give the fleet whatever help they could.

For the admiral it must have been a nightmare. To send his fleet out to engage the full might of the German air force, knowing that he could not rely on having any air support himself and then, to see its battered remains struggling back to harbour, having buried its dead out at sea, almost broke the old seadog鈥檚 heart. He immediately sat down in his office and sent a signal to the admiralty, offering his resignation as Admiral of the Fleet. Quite rightly, the Board of Admiralty did not accept this.

If the truth was to be told, it should have been the people responsible for refusing the request for air cover who should have resigned. That same evening I was on duty in the wardroom when the Commander came in dressed for dinner. He immediately ordered two pink gins and I took them off the wine waiter and approached the commander.

Leaving his companions in the anteroom, which was a small room off the dining area, he walked to meet me and removed one glass from the tray. 鈥淵ou can drink yours in the pantry Hallas,鈥� was all he said as he turned away. It was a gesture of thanks, but from Commander Sir Charles Madden Bt, it was meant as an appreciation for all the assistance he had received from the men under his command, and he had chosen me to be the recipient. In the confines of the pantry, I drank his health and knowing that I had a good excuse for my breath smelling of gin, I poured another for good luck. That was Commander Sir Charles Madden, no small wonder that he rose to be Admiral of the Fleet.

The next night I was on duty as corporal of the watch. It was a strange position to be in. Apart from the bridge and the lookouts on duty, we were 鈥楽tood down鈥�. Below decks, 鈥淧ipe Down鈥� had sounded and all was quiet. The Master at Arms and his regulating staff 鈥淪hips Police鈥� had all turned in and were gently snoring away. Below decks the ship was all mine. It was my duty to see that nothing untoward was happening as I walked from stem to stern on my patrol. I would then go to the quarterdeck and report to the Officer of the Watch.

This one particular night was different, I had walked from the after mess decks along the Port Side and was returning via the Starboard Side, The damaged Starboard gun battery had been shut down and after being made seaworthy had been secured. I suppose it was force of habit, I lowered the cleats on the armoured door and after passing through, I refastened the doors behind me.

At a point half way through, I noticed Sergeant Collins was in the damaged control cabinet. 鈥淕ood night Sarge,鈥� I called, and only then did I realise that Sergeant Collins had been on duty with me when the battery was destroyed; he had died instantly. To this day, I cannot explain my feelings, I remember that I quickened my pace as I passed through the tangled mess, and as the smells came back to me, I could feel the hairs on the nape of my neck stiffening.

I managed to open the armoured door at the after end of the battery and escape into the cleaner air, shutting the door tightly behind me. I decided that I had better keep my experience to myself, seamen are very sceptical and to some of them it would be a source of amusement. As the next day dawned, most of the damage was out of sight and it was only at meal times that we looked at the empty spaces and realised that we had been spared.

Pr-BR

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