大象传媒

This story was heard as part of a reminiscence project at Myrddin Day Centre, Carmarthen. It is contributed to the People's War website with the author's permission.

I was living in Plymouth during the air raids. I was about 16 and I remember the bombers. They didn't just send two or three - they sent thousands! I used to pray at night 'Save me for tomorrow, Lord'.

I went to work - I was posted off to a big chart depot in Somerset, where they had all the charts of the world. I was in the Royal Navy Fire Brigade but I soon got fed up with it. I thought to myself 'I didn't join the Navy to do this. How do I get onto a ship?' 'Volunteer for a submarine' they said; so I did.

After three months training in Somerset I was off to the Malacca Straits. We did three or four weeks at a time, then back to the depot ship.

The captain spotted a number of supply ships in the bay. 'Hit 'em with everything you've got' he said. Then we dived - emptied our ballast tanks, and sank. The ships chased us and tried to get us with their depth charges as we lay on the bottom of the ocean. They didn't hit us but there were stacks of dead fish floating around.

If there is a boat up top then you can hear it. 'Silence! No row at all'. Then you start praying. I wasn't frightened of dying - all's fair in war.

My place was in the control room, on the periscope. We had to make sure we had plenty of air saved, to raise the sub after we'd dived. There's enough air to breathe to last about 20 hours, but the air does get a bit thick.

We were more like a family than a crew. The understanding was tremendous. You just had to trust in each other. Thirty seven to forty people. The captain was maybe only a couple of years older than you. There was no 'Yes sir, no sir' - it was all first names.

We would play cards sometimes, but only for threepence or sixpence a time - nothing serious.

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