大象传媒

LIFE IN THE NAVY DURING WORLD WAR TWO

I am writing this account in case any of my descendants, e.g. great grandchildren as yet unborn, become interested in what it was like to be at sea during the Second World War. There is, however, nothing heroic in what I have to describe.

When I was young I knew that my father had served as a telegraphist on a minesweeper in the North Sea during World War 1. At that time I did not think to ask him more about his experiences but in later life I wished I had. As he was born in September 1899 he could not have been in the navy very long as he would have been barely 19 when the war ended.

In my 76th year it is time for me to record my memories if I am ever to do so, so here goes. When war broke out on 3rd September 1939 I was 14 and I left the boy scouts to join the school鈥檚 OTC (Officers Training Corps). I was promoted to the lofty rank of lance- corporal before I left school in 1941 and took a clerical job in the Civil Service until I was old enough to join up. I also applied for a UND (University Naval Division) course and was accepted after interview. This course was being introduced in order to find suitable candidates for a naval commission and mine was to be at Liverpool, the nearest university to my home near Blackpool. Similar courses were to be held at several other Universities including Oxford and Cambridge.

Until my course began in January 1943, and whilst working in the Civil Service, I joined the Home Guard and spent evenings and weekends on various activities such as sentry duty in case of an invasion. Our weapons were Lee Enfield rifles dating from World War 1 but I also became proficient at stripping and reassembling our one Sten machine gun, in case it jammed in action. This must have worried Hitler, who decided against an invasion.

Before I left for my naval training, one of my concerns was passing the medical examination. I have worn spectacles ever since I was found at age 7 to be suffering from what was called 鈥渨eak鈥� eyesight. After a relatively short time my vision deteriorated each day and the spectacles corrected this and resulted in good vision. But naval officers did not wear spectacles and I did not disclose at my medical exam that I used them. I was able to read the eyesight charts well enough not to raise questions and of course I removed my glasses before any parades. Fortunately I do not suffer from colour blindness; it is vital to distinguish a ship鈥檚 starboard (green) light from her port (red) light. When I eventually took up my first long-term ship assignment (HMS Narbrough) no one questioned my use of glasses.

At Liverpool University half the time was spent on naval training, where my OTC parade ground experience proved useful, and half on academic studies which we were told would be accepted as the first year of a degree course if we chose to return to academic life after the war, though the UND course was to last only six months and we had to pass exams at the end of it.

I managed to pass the course and became an Ordinary Seaman in the Royal Navy in July 1943, earmarked as a commission candidate. My first posting was to HMS Ganges, a shore establishment near Ipswich, Suffolk. There, as well as parades and more naval lectures, we had to pass a number of physical tests such as running a mile in, I think, six minutes and completing a cross country course in a specified time. The test I remember best was climbing a very high mast 鈥� terrifying for someone like me with no head for heights. There were safety nets supported by a number of thick concrete posts but if any unfortunate faller happened to land on a post he would not be in good shape! I felt 鈥� and still feel - that this test was more suitable for the navy in Napoleonic times. During this course, and indeed all the courses we had to pass before gaining a commission, several candidates failed and had to return to sea duties, retaining the rank of Ordinary Seaman. Some of the failures were chaps we expected to pass easily. I found a sailor鈥檚 bell-bottom trousers and jerkin were made of a coarse material which was quite itchy and that was another incentive to pass the training stage.

After HMS Ganges I was sent to serve a few weeks in each of two ships in Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands, the main base for the larger units of the Home Fleet.
The first ship was a World War 1 battleship, HMS Queen Elizabeth; the second was a battle cruiser, HMS Renown, which earlier had taken Winston Churchill across the Atlantic to meet President Roosevelt and agree war strategy. I was given various tasks such as helping to supply huge shells to one of the big 15-inch guns when it was being fired during exercises at sea. I also had a turn at steering the ship, altering course and keeping a steady course under the direction of the officer of the watch.

This was the time when I learnt it was quite unpleasant sleeping in a hammock amongst many other tightly packed sailors. Another incentive to do well! After the weeks at sea, the last but most important course was at HMS King Alfred, a base near Brighton. That was the last chance to weed us out and in January 1944 I was commissioned as a Midshipman RNVR (in common parlance a 鈥渟notty鈥�).

I was sent to Londonderry to join a newly commissioned frigate, HMS Narbrough of some 1600 tons, which had been loaned to us by the USA for the duration of the war. Unlike the elderly destroyers which had been loaned earlier in the war, Narbrough was brand new and quite well equipped, so that I had a cabin to myself and a bunk instead of a hammock. Narbrough and all her sister ships were named after Lord Nelson鈥檚 captains and somewhere in the house I have a small framed aerial photograph of her. She had three 3- inch guns, a number of oerlikon machine guns, depth charges and a weapon called a hedgehog which fired a number of explosive projectiles from the bows to a point about fifty yards ahead when a possible U-boat had been detected by our asdic. Asdic is broadly similar to radar but with a shorter range and operates under water to detect objects such as submarines.

The crew consisted of about 180 ratings and 8 officers. The captain was an elderly Lieutenant Commander RN and the other officers were either RNR ( Merchant Navy men in peace time) or RNVR like myself. Incidentally the V stands for 鈥渧olunteer鈥�.

I was given charge of the Ship鈥檚 Office, dealing with official correspondence, submitting the many reports required by the Admiralty etc. But perhaps one of the most important tasks 鈥� no doubt in the crew鈥檚 mind - was to calculate each rating鈥檚 fortnightly pay entitlement, draw the total sum from whatever shore base we were near (escorted by two armed sailors), make up the pay into separate envelopes and issue them at a Pay Parade. It was quite a relief when I found I had no money missing or left over! For the ship鈥檚 office work I had one big advantage in that from an early age my father had let me practise using his typewriter.

My second major duty was to take charge of the forecastle division of seamen, a third of the non-specialist ratings on the ship. I had to deal with any problems they put to me and to pass on to the captain, via the first lieutenant, any requests such as for compassionate leave due to domestic problems, promotion when due, etc. When coming into port my division was responsible for handling the mooring lines from the bows or for dropping the anchor if that was called for.

At sea I was one of the watch-keeping officers, on duty for four hour stretches on the bridge, seeing that the ship went where she was meant to go and calling the captain to the bridge in the event of an emergency such as detecting a possible U boat. When we accompanied a convoy I had to alter course at the correct time to a new leg of the zig zag, as a means of foiling any U boat which might have been about to attack. At Action Stations my job was again on the bridge, passing on the captain鈥檚 orders and taking charge of B gun, one of the three inch guns which had been detailed to fire any required starshells as well as high explosive shells, which, as it turned out, we never had to fire. Our action was mainly with depth charges and the hedgehog.

In heavy seas 鈥� quite common in the Atlantic - the ship rolled a lot, up to perhaps 40 or 50 degrees either side. I quickly learned that I was prone to seasickness (a misfortune shared by Lord Nelson and a distressing problem if you are left in charge of a ship when on watch or if you have to prepare some official papers before entering harbour). Each time we went to sea it took three or four days for me to find my 鈥渟ea legs鈥� and stop being sick.

Our ship formed part of the Fifteenth Escort Group along with five sister ships and our main duties were meeting incoming Atlantic convoys to take over protection duties against U boats or aircraft or operating as an independent group searching for U boats. In late May 1944 Narbrough was sent to Milford Haven in South Wales, in preparation for the D-day invasion of Normandy (6th June as it turned out). We then became one of the escorts for a convoy taking American troops to invade Normandy. The Commodore in charge of the convoy was on the leading troopship, the USS Susan B Anthony, carrying a large number of troops (perhaps 2000?). We were stationed some 300 yards on her starboard beam and travelling along what was supposed to be a mine-free channel. Half way across the English Channel a loud explosion meant that the Commodore鈥檚 ship had struck a mine and she began to sink. Then began the tricky task of taking off the troops as quickly as possible. Our captain had to bring the ship alongside at the forecastle and hold her there whilst my division鈥檚 job was to get the soldiers safely aboard as they climbed down large landing nets hung over the troopship鈥檚 side, her deck being higher than ours. We managed to take off several hundred soldiers safely and two other frigates then took off the remainder. I never heard whether there had been casualties when the mine exploded but it would be almost miraculous if there had been none. Our ship was of course absolutely packed and we were glad to unload the troops on to landing barges when we reached Normandy. I could see German shells landing in the sea but not near us; there were hundreds of craft of all sizes around the shoreline.

During the following weeks we made several other voyages to Normandy and once, whilst we were at anchor there awaiting orders, a tug which was towing a section of the Mulberry artificial harbour being built by the Allies to facilitate the landing of troops and supplies made a mistake and caused the harbour section to hit our bow, producing a large hole above the waterline. We returned to Portsmouth dockyard for repairs and the crew enjoyed a fortnight鈥檚 leave. During my leave my mother died suddenly at the age of 44, whilst only she and I were in the house, and I was absolutely devastated.

Later in 1944 we became part of the escort for a convoy taking war supplies to Russia 鈥� and if you have heard anything of the naval war you will have some idea what such convoys were like. It meant going from Ireland up into the Arctic Circle, past the North of Norway and Spitzbergen, to reach Murmansk in North Russia. I have never experienced cold like it, with sea water breaking over the bows and freezing so as to cover the decks with ice at least a foot thick. We sometimes wondered if the weight of ice would cause us to turn turtle, especially as there had been rumours of such a fate befalling another ship (probably just someone having a laugh at newcomers鈥� expense).

When we reached Murmansk the Russians seemed distinctly cold and hardly appreciative of the supplies which had been brought at some loss of ships and lives. We never set foot in Russia and were kept at anchor until the return journey. This, together with a dislike of communism, determined my opinion of the Russians and when the Russian government after the war offered a medal to people involved with the convoys I did not apply for it until many years later when Gorbachev improved diplomatic relations and renewed the invitation. The medal is quite gaudy in comparison with the British campaign medals I received but I suspect it might have a certain scarcity value.

During that trip to Russia, I had my twentieth birthday and was accordingly promoted to Sub-lieutenant, RNVR. When we were entering a harbour in Britain a little later we passed the remains of a sistership which had been towed home after the front half had been blown up by either a mine or a torpedo. I found she was the ship in which had been serving Sub-lieutenant Michael Clark, RNVR; he was the only chap I came across after being commissioned who had been on my training course and he was of course killed, since the wardroom and the bridge were both in the front half of our frigates.

Until Germany surrendered in May 1945 we continued to patrol in search of U-boats or to escort convoys. During this time I received a Commendation in a Special Order of the Day by the Commander in Chief, Plymouth (along with many other naval people). A little later I was also mentioned in despatches, together with three ratings from Narbrough. I feel sure that the captain put my name forward merely because I was the youngest officer and it was meant as a testimonial to the efforts of all the ship鈥檚 company. Nothing I did was more praiseworthy than others鈥� efforts.

Shortly after the war ended we had two interesting missions. The first was to Bilbao in northern Spain, taking a skeleton crew of merchant seamen to collect a merchant ship which had been interned during the war. We were the first warship to go there and the Spaniards seemed quite friendly. Most of the crew went to a bullfight but as I abhor such activities I volunteered to stay aboard as duty officer. I heard that at the bullfight the mayor made a welcoming speech in which he thanked the captain for the compliment paid to Spain when we entered harbour. Evidently he thought that the red and yellow stripes on our Carley floats (life-rafts) had been put there because they were the colours of the Spanish national flag. In reality they had been there all along, for easy identification by any rescuers. What we enjoyed most of all in Spain was the unlimited supply of bananas and oranges, which had not been seen in Britain for many years.

The second mission was to escort a tug which was towing a surrendered U boat that for some reason we were handing over to the Russians. The U-boat did not move under its own power and she was manned by a British crew with one Russian Naval Officer on board as an observer. We called at Kristiansand in Norway on our way to Libau in the Baltic Sea, then in Russia but now Latvia. In Libau we were moored alongside a dock and again no one was allowed ashore but we had been welcomed in Norway.

In early 1946 we took Narbrough across the Atlantic to hand her back at Boston, Massachusetts. The crew then went by train to New York station where we were promptly taken by bus to the docks to board the Queen Elizabeth (not the battleship I had served in during 1943 but the largest liner in the world which had been used as a troopship and was then far from luxurious). She brought us back to Britain and a spot of leave.

My next posting was to HMS Opportune, a destroyer which had taken part in the famous 1940 battle at Narvik, Norway, when a flotilla of British destroyers attacked a similar German Flotilla. The Flotilla leader Captain Warburton -Lee, RN was killed during the action and awarded a posthumous VC. My job was to be Navigating Officer and when I joined the ship she was in the Portsmouth dockyard awaiting the arrival of most of her new crew. I spent some time updating her charts from information in Admiralty Fleet Orders, such as the location of new shipping hazards, e.g. wrecks. After two or three weeks I contracted German Measles, was sent to hospital and never rejoined Opportune. Instead I became an Assistant Divisional Officer at Portsmouth Barracks.

My new duties included granting leave where appropriate to the hundreds of men passing through the division, and acting as 鈥淧risoner鈥檚 Friend鈥� for any rating posted to the division who was to be court -martialed. Altogether I dealt with 6 courts martial, all the charges being desertion. It took some time for the demobilisation of the armed forces to take place and everyone had to await his turn in the prescribed order of release. Some sailors opted to go AWOL and then had to face the music. My job was to speak up for the accused if there was any defence (I never found any!) but also to speak in mitigation whenever possible. A prison sentence resulted in every case but I think I managed to have it made quite light in deserving cases. I also had to serve on a Court of Inquiry when a Sub-lieutenant had been caught smuggling a lot of duty free cigarettes out of the dockyard. I understood that my presence was required so as to have an officer of the same rank as the accused sitting on the court. My recollection is that the villain escaped with a fine and a loss of seniority.

In October 1946 my turn for demobilisation came and during my demob leave I had my 22nd birthday, being duly promoted Lieutenant RNVR. It was during that leave that I met my dear wife Milly, who had received a Defence Medal for her service in the ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service - the name for the women鈥檚 section of the army). But that is a different story and a very happy one; if we had not met, you would not be here! I send you all our love and hope your lives are just as enjoyable.

Colin Wilkinson
30th January 2000

1st January, February 2003, July 2004 typed document transferred to word processed document and amended by Erik Wilkinson and Norah Kennedy.

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