大象传媒

Having rejoined LST 407 and repairs completed we made one brief trip to Salerno after the landing. Several youngsters appeared on the beach asking for bread. We responded with several loaves. They took them up to the road, where a man took the bread to a nearby truck, At that moment some MP鈥檚 showed up and took charge of what appeared to be a local scam. Send the kids to beg and sell the stuff on the black market.
We (the 407) took on the role of supply ship, traveling from port to port where and when as needed.. It was interesting and lacked any excitement. My own impression was that perhaps our poor showing at H hour on the beach at Cicilly had it鈥檚 consequences. We spent another Christmas with our new captain. He had been first officer and took over after the bombing that wounded our captain and myself. He too was a Merchant Marine officer RNR. A good seaman and not heavy on discipline. The two remaining officers were both RNVR but obviously straight from 鈥楥ivvy Street鈥�. One was a Canadian lawyer.
In January 1944, While we continued our assignment as supply ship the allies landed at Anzio.
We were now based at Naples. A few weeks after the Anzio landings, we were ordered to proceed to Anzio with some supplies and return with German prisoners. A nice short, trip in ideal weather. Problem was that the small harbour was in the gun sights of enemy artillery, in the hills outside the town. It required some
Skill on the part of the captain and the helmsman to navigate through the narrow entrance, and time our entry between shell bursts splashing in that one spot. LST鈥檚 were not designed for quick changes in direction or high speed. We made it in OK, and after removing cargo, took on a score of German prisoners. They seemed docile enough and even appeared to be relieved at their current situation. The trip back was uneventful and after discharging the prisoners, we anchored some distance out from shore. Air raids were no longer a problem and the city was lit up to a degree. Retiring for the night after we had received the order to secure wireless watch, all was serene until some time in the night. I awoke to severe shaking and almost fell out of my bunk. (LST鈥檚 had bunks and no hammocks). Rushing up topside to the radio room, I encountered the captain heading down, shouting 鈥淓ngines, give me engines鈥�. Somewhere behind me I heard the voice of our chief engineer. 鈥淲e 鈥榓int got no engines. There鈥檚 a rock sticking up through the floor of the engine room.鈥� Looking around at the engineer said it all. He was black with oil from stem-to-stern. We had a small radio transmitter installed below decks for emergency purposes powered by batteries. Our main radio gear was dead from lack of power. Without any orders from the captain I fired up the emergency rig and sent out several SOS鈥檚. Not expecting any replies. I shut it down. Going up on deck revealed an amazing site. Daylight was just breaking.. The 407 was perched on a large rock just a few yards away from the promenade railing of Naples seafront. The railing was already lined with a group of the local citizenry. The apparent storm that had placed us there had abated.
. I had a health problem and was sent to see a shore-based RN doctor. I had apparently felt ill and almost fainted .while helping to haul in a cable tying us to shore. The doctor diagnosed me as just suffering from fatigue and the wound in my wrist had gone too long unattended. It seems that at the time of the injury, the shrapnel hit the green top of the chart table and a green piece of wood was embedded in my wrist. He removed it and left me with a bandaged wrist, and a sling for my arm. That dear kind man ordered me to a one week of R and R on the island of Iscia. There I could see Mount Vesuvius blowing it鈥檚 top. It had recently become more active and was quite a sight at night. When I returned to Naples, our crew had been removed from the 407 and were housed in an old Moorish castle on the seafront called 鈥楥astle Del Ovo鈥�. Not a very nice
place to live, but al least high and dry. It was here that a strange thing happened. There was a work crew of Italian navy personnel detailed for cleaning and kitchen chores, Their leader was a fellow in the Italian uniform, flaming red hair and a ruddy complexion. He bellowed out orders in Italian to his crew. I mentioned to a nearby companion that he sounded like Mussolini. The Redhead turned to me and in a broad Scottish accent. 鈥淚 heard that feller鈥�. His story then came out. His father had married an Italian girl after WW1. Living in Scotland, their son went to visit relatives in Italy right before WW2. Before he could leave he was arrested and put in the Italian navy.. Having survived, he was getting some payback !.
A Court of Inquiry was convened several weeks after the loss of the 407, I was called to testify.
Entering the meeting room I was intimidated by all the brass present. A Wren led me to a seat and swore me in. Still wearing my bandage and arm sling, I was asked if I was able to testify. An officer asked me if I had received any weather reports via radio before anchoring. My answer was no. How about after anchoring ?. Once again, No.
鈥淒id you salvage the log book 鈥�?. 鈥淣o sir, I was ordered to burn it but refused鈥�. The first officer got a fire bucket and put the log book in it, adding petrol or something and lit it". I noticed our new, current skipper was there and he smiled at me and nodded his head in agreement. 鈥淲ell Rayner I want you to go to the ship and see if the log book is still aboard. A taxi will take you there鈥� Said the questioning officer. Off I went, stayed long enough to search for what I knew did not exist and returned to the court. I was dismissed and heard nothing further regarding the court鈥檚 disposition. However. I see it this way. Upon anchoring I received the order to 鈥淪ecure wireless watch鈥� from the captain. I found out later from the leading signalman that he had also received the order to 鈥淪ecure visual watch鈥�. Obviously no weather reports could be received after anchoring in the harbour. No watch was on duty
At the end of February, I was assigned to a small W/T station in Brindisi on the Adriatic coast. In charge of a small crew of six and one Italian operator. Located on the roof of the fish market. This stay had one great happening. The second day I was on the street outside the market when I spotted my brother-in-law Alf Warren. The last I knew in was in India. He and a fellow trooper had a great 2 hours before they left. Unknown to me at the time Alf鈥檚 friend was killed the next day further north in action. After a month I transferred to Malta for classes to upgrade my rating. Success in this endeavour, I returned to the UK and HMS Mercury by late October, 1944.
Things at Mercury had improved since my first trip there in鈥�42. More buildings, added classrooms. Less visibility of a 鈥榳ar-time鈥� footing. Even a chance to be billeted off campus. .
Finding myself enrolled in a class to take courses to advance to Petty Officer W/T HS. It was time to settle down, do a little 鈥橲watting鈥�. Practical was my strong suit but somewhat weak on technical. I enjoyed operating without knowing how all things worked. I was distracted also by being absent from my dear wife back in the States. We had separated over 1 year earlier after a very quick courtship and marriage. As my course neared it鈥檚 end 1n 1945, and victory in Europe was the big news of the day I asked to be given consideration for future assignment in the Pacific, hoping for a possible layover in the States and meet my wife, Goldie in Pennsylvania..
Success in the classroom and I made my P.O rating, followed by success in reassignment to Vancouver via the USA. Leaving early in August, and sailing on the Queen Elizabeth, a trip worthy of remembrance.. Thr QE was loaded with US and Canadian troops returning from the European conflict. Also on board were Edward G. Robinson and Sir Alexander Korda, who had both been in the UK to help the war effort in some way.
Signing autographs was the order of the day. Mid ocean,two Atomic bombs dropped on Japan. Arriving in the St Lawrence, and, after we Disembarked, it was time to celebrate the final end of WW2.
Two of us were held in a Canadian military barracks awaiting travel to Vancouver. A naval officer appeared on the scene with great news. Due to cessation of hostilities our priorities had changed and if we had relatives living over here we can have ten days leave. Before I could get my breath I was packing and ready to receive my vouchers for travel and expenses. The train across the border seemed mighty slow and I got to New York. Caught a Pennsylvania R.R train to Johnstown. The following ten days with Goldie are here omitted from this story. After returning to Montreal we both were placed aboard a Canadian Pacific Train heading west to Vancouver. This was a trip I can never forget. Traveling. through vast areas of woodlands, then hundred of miles of grain growing vistas.. Then on through the Rocky Mountains to emerge right at Vancouver, a magnificent city with a fine harbour. We were billeted in a rooming house right at the entrance to Stanley Park. Chances to enjoy boating and horse riding after settling in. My new ship was named 鈥橫ull of Kintyre鈥�. A naval supply ship destined to travel to the Pacific war area, now to be diverted to the UK and home. Talk about the luck of the Irish.. It took a few weeks to complete final details aboard. We set sail down the west coast of California heading down to Panama.. Our captain, once more a merchant navy RNR draftee, told us all of his days as a Run Runner during the years of American prohibition. Says this part of the US coast was where he operated. A small uninhabited Island of the Mexican coast. was a 鈥榙rop off鈥� spot. He had us anchor there and allowed us to go ashore to hunt wild goats,. or, just explore. Our trip through the canal was another worth while experience. .We tied up in Colon for the night before proceeding though to the Atlantic end.. This captain from the start had tagged me and another P.O. to get news (Me via wireless)) and print a newspaper (the P.O.supply) he could type.
We headed down through the Carribbean, then north to New York. Passing the Carolina鈥檚, the skipper asked me to get a D/F bearing from the Cape Hatteras lighthouse. Having learned seven years earlier how to do this in training, I had never had to perform the task until now. The captain took my reading and informed me I was close and lucky for me it was a clear night and he took a bearing from the visible light.. What a way to end my naval career. Almost piled up on the Carolina coast. The remaining part of our trip went well. We landed in Pompey on Christmas day 1945. returned to Mercury and received my demob on my birthday Feb.11, 1946. The very day that my blushing bride arrived at Southampton aboard an American troopship, returning many children who had been in the States for the duration, Alls well that ends well. This is now the real end to my story written 63 years later

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