大象传媒

I was a Sub-Lieutenant RNVR in Recruit which was 2nd Senior Officer of 7th Minesweeping flotilla, thus being 4th ship in line behind the S.O鈥檚 ship Pelorus which has been described in the literature on D-Day as 鈥渢he point of a very large arrow aimed at the Normandy coast鈥�. We swept Juno Channel arriving off Courseulles at D-Day H-Hours-Minus-Four, ie, 0335 hrs, well-ahead of the fleet and armada. This was the beach where the Canadians and Royal Marines stormed ashore and fought their way to the ancient town of Bayeaux. This is the second part of my story....

E-Boat threat

For many weeks we served off the coast of France with only periodic breaks of two days at home for refuelling. Every day we carried out sweeps, weighing anchor at 6.30am and sweeping until the evening. Our number of kills rose steadily. The weather, which should have been quiet for successful minesweeping, was not good and deteriorated to gale strength with wind of force six. The flotilla became starved of ships. The two destroyers had to go back to dock, one because of old age and her engines were wearing out, and the other after a merchant ship had torn a hole in her side. Two of our sweepers were sent back for boiler cleaning, and three of the remainder had their steering gear put out of action by the heavy seas. For two days there were only three ships active and it looked as if the flotilla would have to give up, but of the damaged ships only one proved serious and had to be sent back whilst the other two managed to repair their defects and rejoin. 大象传媒 for the day finished, we would return to the beaches around dinner time and take up positions along the defence line. In company with the other flotillas (some eight of ninety-six ships), our job was to drive off E-boat attacks and any U-boats that might attempt the dangers. There were a hundred of us, and with our radar, asdics and heavy armament we presented a problem which no enemy commander wished to question. Instead they contented themselves with attacks on stragglers outside our perimeter and fleet destroyers were sent to chase them away. Many battles took place and we watched the tracers out at sea and many times we were ordered to fire starshell to illuminate the battlefield. On one occasion, we fired twenty rounds before the 鈥淐ease Fire鈥� came through, and the brilliance can be imaged when a similar number of rounds were fired simultaneously by some fifty ships in our sector. On no occasion did E-boats break through the defence line and no ships were sunk within the perimeter as a result of their attacks; but they were a definite menace and a source of worry to us, and caused us to lose a great deal of sleep. To be up all day while closed-up at sweeping-stations, never to be certain of a complete night鈥檚 rest was a strain on us all. Moreover, the number of E-boat reports was increasing every night. Then the R.A.F. stepped into the rescue with their great 1000lb raid on Le Havre. I had the Middle watch that night and came on deck to see great fires alight to the East. Half an hour later more bombs were dropped on the great furnace. Through binoculars I saw the curtain of flares being met by a barrage of ack-ack while fresh bombs quickened the end of the doomed port below. Really big bombs were being dropped, and when they exploded everything else on the horizon was eclipsed by a solid mass of white flame standing one inch high on the horizon and accompanied by flashes that lit the heavens and turned night into day. As the last planes left, the many independent fires joined themselves into two of record proportions; the suffering of the French population must have been complete. Now I felt sure that war was brutal and inhumane, but also sure that of the three forms of warfare, the sea was the only one that still conforms to the book of rules, and takes into account the civilian population; for when men fight at sea, at least they fight men on equal terms, and do no harm to property and innocent lives.

No more bombs were dropped that night, but three hours later when I went off watch at 4 o鈥檆lock, the fires were still unconquered and their flames illuminated the clouds of steam and smoke that hung over the town. No more E-boat attacks were made after that night. Surely no E-boat could have survived that pounding, and we read in the papers later that most of them had been tumbled over by the bombs鈥� great tidal wave. We were freed from E-boats, but enemy aircraft continued to attack. Continuous fighter patrol kept them away during daylight except on two occasions, once when twelve FW190 fighter-bombers disturbed our Make-and-Mend by dropping their loads among the greatest concentration of shipping. No hits were observed. On another evening four more fighters dared to sneak through a gap in our air defence. They came straight for Recruit as though they reckoned us to be the most vital ship in all that huge armada. They were met by a solid mass of tracer and black bursts of the heavier guns. The other watch-keeping officer on the bridge panicked and rushing to the Action Station bell pressed the 鈥淢ake Smoke鈥� bell, and obediently great thick black smoke issued from our funnel as the ship laid an effective smoke screen. Two of our guns were already closed up and opened fire, and their shooting was remarkably accurate. Overhead the planes divided and two went either side of us, and one was seen to drop his wheels as though hit. They did not repeat the experiment. Night raids increased and in their turn became a menace. To me, however, they came as a relief for the spice of excitement helped the always dreary midnight hours to pass more quickly. The Middle watches on the bridge, when all was quiet, dragged themselves along like a lifetime; not so while the searchlights explored the sky and tracers made colourful patterns against the darkness of the night. Often the planes, driven off from the main concentration of shipping, would come to examine the defence line, and the thrill of suddenly seeing one and the attempt to identify it made the watch shorter by a good turn. The signalman on watch with me, a fine active service rating who had served his twelve years previous to the war in every type of ship and who now passed as the foremost authority on board on aeroplanes, would vie with me to be the first to recognise the aeroplanes. He would read the aeronautical correspondents of The Times and Telegraph and claim the knowledge as his own, but I lost faith in him when he pointed out an Albermarle bomber as 鈥淟ook, sir, an Anson!鈥�

A new mine menace

One Middle watch when things were particularly hot and rocket projectiles were bursting overhead and shrapnel landing on the deck, the ship immediately ahead of us in the line suddenly appeared to be moving. At first, the movement appeared so minute we thought she must be dragging badly but presently she passed us going astern, and by lamp told us that three mines had been dropped near her, two on the starboard side and one 鈥渁lmost on her fo鈥檆鈥檚le鈥�. She had no choice but to slip her cable - and then reluctant to use her engines lest she set them off, she drifted down to us until clear of danger when she proceeded to a new anchorage astern of us. Next moment one of the mines went up with a roar and a huge plume of water. Forty eight hours later, during the Morning watch, three trawlers were steaming in line ahead across the same patch of water when the leading one detonated the second mine. For a moment she was hidden from view by the huge fountain of water. When she reappeared she was down by the stern and settling fast. A fire seemed to be burning in the engine room. Quickly the boats were lowered and we hoped all got away. Her companion ship stood by to pick up survivors, and a Hunt destroyer closed, presumably with a doctor, so they must have suffered casualties. Not many minutes passed before another explosion called our attention, this time further inshore where a Fleet destroyer had put a big one up. Another interlude, another report, and a merchant ship burst into flames, filling the air with a column of black smoke for the rest of the morning. By now, we were underway ourselves. Yet another Hunt destroyer put one up, though she remained undamaged. Near to us there was a big explosion. I was late in training my binoculars onto this latest splash, and when I did, I saw something hurtle from the water which made me think the ship was being bombed from the air. When the sea had subsided a little, we saw the remains of a ship, a Motor minesweeper, already submerged in the water except for her fo鈥檆鈥檚le which alone broke the surface. Before another word could be spoken, that too had slipped under the water. There could have been no survivors from the unfortunate vessel; disaster descended on her so quickly, and what I had mistaken for a bomb was the funnel or some other object torn from the superstructure by the force of the explosion and hurled through the air. But there was to be one more victim. A Liberty ship, one of a large convoy just arrived from the U.K. and through which we were then steaming, detonated another big one with such force that her back was broken. The crew had plenty of time to launch their boats and abandon ship, and the huge hull was left to her doom. Slowly the centre position collapsed and the two ends closed in. However, she seemed to settle comfortably in that position and a tug came alongside to try to take her in tow as far as the beaches. But as soon as the strain came on the hulk, it was unable to cope and the wound was opened, the hull filled with water, and she sank. The after part completely submerged with only her derrick tops visible at low water, the fore part stuck up into the air at a steep angle towering above the water; and there she remained a danger and a warning to all.

The outlook was bad. We had been warned that the Germans were dropping a new sort of mine which we didn鈥檛 know how to sweep. These turned out to be percussion mines laid on the sea bed and detonated by the percussion waves of ships moving through the water. We were equipped to sweep moored mines and the relatively new-fangled acoustic and magnetic mines but not these. It was the violence of the storm of mid June that gave them away. The gale halted all shipping so there was nothing moving and yet mines were going off, triggered by the storm waves pounding the shore. The boffins back home got the answers worked out remarkably quickly, and indeed flew them out to us, but it was a few days before these were on board. Until then, our lot was to praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. In less than two hours we alone had seen six ships go down. If they could keep this pace up, the landings on the beach-heads would be seriously affected with consequences for the army none could doubt. A determined effort had to be made, and the call came to us. It was the following day, and our course led us through the waters that had seen the heaviest mining. The area was cleared of shipping, and we in Recruit set the fashion with a very big one to our account. The end of this lap took us very close inshore to enemy-held coastline, so close that we could clearly define the cranes and wharves of Le Havre, and the estuary of the River Seine. On the opposite bank to the port, the Atlantic Wall was visible with concrete pillboxes and observation towers, and a French town nestled among steep cliffs that looked undamaged and enticing. How nice it would be to have an evening ashore there.

The Germans hit back

Then an explosion and two shells landed amongst our 鈥渢ails鈥�, throwing up great yellow plumes of sea with a strong smell of sulphur. We were being shelled by German coastal batteries of about 6鈥� calibre. The next two landed immediately ahead of the ship on our right. This was good shooting, as they already had the range (five miles). The flotilla at once laid an effective smokescreen and dropped smokefloats, but salvoes continued to land unpleasantly close; however, no ship was hit, though it took a good half-hour to open the range. In the midst of all this we put up another mine. The experience of being shelled by shore positions was new to us, and caused much fascination on the bridge where the yeoman led the way to shelter with such speed and personal disregard for his own safety that he cut his leg while doing so. Next day more ships were sunk as a result of renewed minelaying in a different sector. The trawlers attached to us were badly shaken, and four men took to the water; a Motor gunboat went to their relief at full speed and disappeared from sight beneath another explosion; a Motor minesweeper in turn went to the rescue and also caught one up but reappeared afloat from under the fountain of water and had to be taken in tow. That night, during the Middle watch, more percussion mines were laid in our sector of the defence line 鈥� two of them so close to us (1-2 cables) that we had to slip anchor and drift astern to safe waters. Shortly after, another hostile plane laid another of these new-fangled mines (we called them 鈥淗itler鈥檚 Secret Weapon鈥�) beneath our hull, causing us to slip our second anchor.These were very powerful mines and sensitive to the slightest movement of the ship. They were right beneath us and if we had set them off they would probably have broken our back and with heavy casualties, especially amongst the off-duty watch asleep below decks. We were now anchorless, and had to spend the rest of the night creeping stealthily close to the defending column of ships, earning for ourselves the nick-name of The Wandering Jew. Early in the Morning watch we borrowed an anchor from a chummy ship in the flotilla, hoisted it in board - and became, once again, a 鈥減usser鈥檚鈥� warship.

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