大象传媒

On the 7th we followed a screen of eight mine-sweepers with a convoy of four and reached Milford Haven at 2030. On the 10th we sailed at 0600 with H.M.C.S. (Canadian) Lindsey, S.S.Salvador Brau, War Bharata, and Carina. On the 12th, for the fifth time we reached a Normandy beach-head, and we left immediately with a homeward convoy of seventeen ships. Trawlers in company included Lord Stanhope, Ulva, Kingston, and Andalusite. We reached Milford Haven on the 14th, collected our mail and food, and sailed for Liverpool, arriving next day at 0600. Leave was piped for seven days, and I caught the 1400 train home, reaching London at 2000, having had to stand up all the way. The leave was extended by telegram to two weeks, and I spent the time visiting relatives, and friends from church, youth-centre, and my previous employment, and cinemas. The V1 flying-bomb attacks were at their height, and I became accustomed to listening to the tell-tale cut-out of their engines (not always a reliable warning), taking cover, waiting for the crump, and emerging to continue on my way. I caught the return train at midnight on the 26th and had a long seat (the carriage-width in those corridor-trains) to lie on all the way, arriving at 0440 and rejoining Watchman in Clarence Dry Dock.
In the afternoon of Friday 28th, on leaving a cinema I went to the Angel Services Club, where I had the extraordinary encounter with the New Zealand sailor described in my story, The Kiwi. I wrote a three-page description in my letter dated the same day.
The same evening I had an encounter of a different kind. I went to the Royal Court Theatre and paid 3/6d for a seat in the third row of the Balcony to see the young John Gielgud, with Leslie Banks and Cecil Trouncer, in Hamlet, playing for five days only before opening in London. Sitting next to me was a rather attractive Norwegian Wren, who between acts asked me a question about the play or the programme. Her name was Anna Van Grieg, from Bergen, and she was to be eighteen in September. Her father had been captain of a large fishing-vessel, and was then captain of a Naval Corvette. Her two brothers were in the Norske Marine, and came over on their own ships after the fall of Norway. She came over with her father in his own ship after the Germans began shelling Bergen and her mother was killed in the bombing. She was working in the Norwegian Consular Office, The Temple, Dale Street. I took her to supper and then on the ferry across the Mersey to her billet in Seacombe, before returning to sleep at The Angel.
I met her on the Sunday at the Pierhead and we crossed the Mersey on one of the old ferries for a day in New Brighton, where we enjoyed the fun-fair, went to the cinema, and walked back to Seacombe along the Promenade. We spent similar days together on the Tuesday and Thursday, myself visiting the Copelands on the Wednesday. I had hoped to take her home at the weekend, and received a telegram from my mother saying Bring Friend, but the leave was cancelled, and on the Saturday she took me on the 'bus to Thurstaston Hill, where one obtains a view of the Welsh Mountains. Afterwards I saw her off on the 2235 train from Lime Street to Rainhill, to visit Alenne, her friend from Trondheim, whose ship was the Krelgenzenga. August 7th was Bank-Holiday Monday, and I met Anna and Alenne, went to the cinema, had supper in New Brighton, and kissed them both Goodbye, as they were both off to Scotland next day.
Some years later there was a strange sequel to this story. Soon after my demobilization I received a message, together with a rather distant snap-shot, saying that Anna was coming to visit me in Tottenham. I met the sender, but found that she was not Anna at all, but probably an acquaintance of hers, working perhaps at their Embassy, who had obtained my name and address and thought that by her resemblance to Anna, plus the circumstantial evidence and the passage of two or three years, she would fool me, though to what end I cannot imagine. I entertained her for the afternoon, with a ride to Alexandra Palace I think, and then saw her off smartly on an early train, in time to honour my date in the evening.
I cannot forsee what standards of morality may characterize the times in which my future readers, if any there be, find themselves, but I know that now, in the 1990's, many would assume as a matter of course that sexual experiences would certainly be involved in such friendships as I have described. There were in the 1940's of course some who indulged, and many more who liked to cultivate the reputation of indulging, in such experiences, but my belief is that the vast majority of ordinary young folk were very happy to enjoy affectionate friendships, which might include kisses and cuddles, with no thought of sexual indulgence, cherishing the desire to come one day to their marriage-partners in the mutually precious state of virginity.
On August 10th I saw the Captain and the First-Lieutenant was told that they were recommending me as a CW Candidate, and that I would be going to Portsmouth. We sailed on the 12th and reached Milford Haven on the 13th. Four of us went ashore, had a good swim, and then saw a film and a cartoon in the Masonic Hall for 3d each, and on the following day I had a swim with two British Wrens.
We sailed early on the 15th with a convoy of twelve ships, supported by Escort Group 15, comprising the Captain Class Frigates Louis, Mouncey, & Lawson. Seven more ships joined us after we passed Plymouth next day, and we reached the Solent on the 17th. I went home on the 18th, and two V1's passed over, very low, at 0330 next morning. I was already up, having to catch the 0555 train back to Portsmouth. We sailed on the 20th with Forester, Wensleydale, & Vidette. We sank one submarine, blasted away at two others all day, then patrolled fifteen miles off F茅camp all night. This routine continued for five more days, until we had only half our fuel, fifteen of our seventy-five depth-charges, and five of our Hedgehog patterns left. We found a merchant-ship's raft, and smashed it with Pompom and 艗rlikon fire, since it posed a danger to ML's and MTB's, and this proved to be my last action aboard Watchman. On the 26th we were in Portsmouth at 1815 for fuel and ammunition, and next day my relief came aboard. I spent my birthday at anchor in the Solent, waiting around all day dressed up, with kit packed, and ready to go, and was given sippers of grog by some of my generous mess-mates, - We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. I finally left at 1300 next day for Portsmouth barracks, H Block, CW Division, Mess H1.

(My poem Train records my sentiments about the brutal facts of war. I have mentioned on Page 242 my short story The Kiwi, which relates in detail my extraordinary encounter on July 28th.)

(Copies of these chapters were particularly welcomed by the Department of Documents in the Imperial War Museum, Lambeth Road, London SE1 6HZ in 1995 because the official Logs of WATCHMAN for these years

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