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This is Mr Hendrie's story; it has been added by Herts Libraries, with permission from the author, who understands the terms and conditions of adding his story to the website.

Missing presumed dead:
In April 1940 I was a signalman aboard a trawler out of Great Yarmouth when I was sent, at the double, to Barrow in Furness to pick up a destroyer named HMS Ivanhoe. After a couple of days we left Barrow and turned north up to Pentland Firth and down to Leith, near Edinburgh.

It was very late when I reported sick and was sent ashore. All I can remember is the officer who took me ashore and the Doctor arguing over me. The Doctor won and I went into the Edinburgh Hospital where I stayed for about a fortnight before I was told that I was under the direct orders of the First Lord of the Admiralty and to report to Chatham Barracks forthwith.

To do that I had to travel via Kings Cross railway station which happened to be within two miles of where I lived. So I went home to see my mother, who on seeing me, fainted. When she came round it she told me that she had received a telegram from the Admiralty saying that I was missing, presumed dead. Evidently, the Ivanhoe left the same night and took off to Narvik, Norway and was sunk. How many survived I never found out.

Fall of Singapore
When I got into Chatham barracks and found out my assignment, I volunteered for the naval Battalion that was going over to Dunkirk. I was promptly told that I was too valuable (a sentence that would trouble all my career), I was still under the First Lord.

I was posted to a secret ship called HMS Springdale, a degaussing ship that turned ships into a different polarity, to stop the magnetic mines that abounded our coasts. After a lot of trials in the Thames, we were off to Singapore where we landed in November 1941, shortly after the Prince of Wales (where my brother was stationed) and the Renown. The destroyers Electra, Encounter, Scout and Tenedos were in attendance on the two battle cruisers.

On 7 December 1941 I took my brother to a film show at the naval barracks, HMS Sultan, the film appropriately called Escape. During the film a voice announced that all personnel were to report back to their ships. Later that night the battle cruisers, in company with the destroyers, left Singapore en route to Kota Bahru where the Japanese had landed. In the ensuing fight, the Prince of Wales was sunk together with the Renown. The Japanese radioed to the destroyers to 'stop firing or we will sink you too. Pick up your survivors'. Which is what they did.

After two days I went to the Naval Base and found my brother alive and well. Afterwards he told me that the survivors of the Royal Marines had amalgamated with the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders and were now called the Plymouth Argylls.

On or around 10 February, I was taken to Tanglin Naval Hospital with malaria, whilst I was in there we had to dig foxholes in the lawn. It was a bit hairy when the Japanese came over and bombed us, the planes came in their hundreds (or so it seemed). The first one fired a machine gun and the planes dropped all their bombs in a haphazard fashion. This was a daily occurrence so we spent a lot of time down these holes.

On the day before my 23rd birthday, the doctors came round to tell us to leave the hospital as the Japanese had breached the Johore River and were on the island. So off I went down the Buka Timoh Road en route for Raffles hotel. The area on the way was devastating due to the bombing being indiscriminating — bodies were all over the place with dead horses and cows amongst the debris. Eventually I came to Raffles Square where there were literally hundreds of Australian soldiers. Running through it was a stream or sewage water and littered along were hundreds of rifles. The Australians had given up the ghost whereas us and the Indian Infantry were still fighting.

I had to get to the Oranje Hotel where the Naval HQ was but my path was blocked by Aussies asking me for food — they must have been joking, I was as hungry as them. Eventually I got to the HQ and reported in. Much later, after midnight, I was taken with others to the docks where the civilians had left their possessions and cars. One of our jobs was to clear the quayside of all the rubbish and cars, which we pushed into the water as we did not want the Japanese to have them.

After another hour or so a destroyer, HMS Jupiter, came alongside with all her guns trained on the shore. Evidently some Aussies had forced their way onto a ship, commandeered it and set sail for Tanjong Priok in Batavia (Indonesia). Everyone coming aboard was strictly checked etc as the Admiral in Charge had openly said that no-one was to be able to get away, as only the Navy had done the work and he was making sure that it happened, and so he did, and we were the last ship to sail from Singapore en route to Batavia (Tanjong Priok).

The Admiral got away after us in a small speedboat together with naval personnel which included my brother. They got as far as Sumatra when their boat was hit and everyone was captured and put in a Prisoner of War camp. My mother received two telegrams that time, both sons missing, believed killed.

Retreat from Sumatra (Indonesia)
On arrival at Tanjong Priok I went in a lorry to the capital, Batavia (Djakarta), where I was immediately attached to the Commander in Chief's staff whose offices were in the British Embassy. After about a week or so burning fires, the fire was at least ten feet high. A Dutch Admiral was put in charge of all warships. he was on a cruiser called the Heemskirk and it was in dry dock. The other ships, mostly British destroyers and the Australian cruiser, the Canberra, set sail for the South China Sea and engaged the enemy and every one was sunk or destroyed. The Heemskirk was still in dry dock.

Next thing we heard that Batavia was declared an open city and so we had to leave. I was assigned to a lorry with a Bren gun at the rear and given a lot of ciphers to destroy. I found it hard to break the metal into small pieces and throw them into every fifth paddyfield. We had no food so had to scrounge it from the natives, and had a hard time of it. After two days we eventually came to the port of Tjillijap where we found an Australian frigate waiting for us. We went aboard HMAS Woolagong, ready for sailing, which we did after every sailor was on board. The last thing I remember whilst leaving port was that three nurses were left behind on the jetty and no ship to take them.

After a while we entered the port of Freemantle and, to our disgust, found that all the ships there were American and we pondered as to why they were not in the South China Sea with our ships. Bad feeling was ashore. The Australians from the 8th Army were coming home in droves aboard the Queen Mary, the authorities were worried that the Japanese would land in the north east at Darwin. Ashore, the Yanks called us Kippers, ie two-faced and no guts, wherein we fought them with fisticuffs and sometimes we lost — not many times I might add. Again, I tried to stay in Australia and, once again, was told 'you are too valuable'.

Final Stop Ceylon
After a fortnight my R&R was up and I had to join a county class cruiser called HMS Cornwall. This time I was able to take it easy for a change. On 24 April, Easter Sunday, we entered Colombo during I might add, an air raid. When I went ashore and reported, I was sent to HMS St Lucia, a mother ship for the 4th Submarine Flotilla. The ship had been hit during the raid and two sailors were killed. After a series of ducking and diving I found myself on a ship bound for home. I was on the bridge for a two to four watch, when I intercepted a signal addressed to myself which read that I was to report to the Naval HQ immediately and so I lost my trip home. Incidentally, when HMS Cornwall left the next day, she was torpedoed whilst patrolling and sunk, another lucky day for me.

They sent me to a small ship called HMS Wuchan and we set sail for Trincomalee. The officers on board were a nuisance. For most of the trip I was sending messages back and forth, ie Matthew chapter 6 verse 17 and so on. I got very little sleep that night. We arrived in Trincomalee two days later and found it a perfect deep harbour and quite big. I got off and was taken by lorry up to a 1000ft signal station overlooking the harbour. There I stayed for just over two years before I was allowed home.

D-Day and Plus
After six weeks holiday for my three years in the Far East, I was sent to HMS Mercury, a signal school situated near Petersfield, Hampshire. I was there a week and then transferred to HMS Collingwood at Fareham in Hampshire wherein I started my training.

First of all I was issued with army gear to wear, a lanyard and badges. Across my shoulders I wore Royal Navy, my communication badges, together with a three year badge and a .38 Smith & Wesson revolver. Now dressed, I was a member of the 21st Army Corps and Royal Corps of Signals. Evidently, Montgomery found out that the RN communication branch was four times faster at Morse code etc than the Army who could only do 5 words a minute, spoke to Mountbatten about the situation and, hey presto, there I was a soldier.

My training consisted of the assault course day after day — in the end we got to be a dab hand at it and very successful; armed combat — how to kill people with your bare hands and/or a bowie knife; secret ciphers and how to use VHF which, at that time, was very hush-hush and secret. Another funny thing was we were to use was a heliograph, a gadget that caught the rays of the sun and transmitted light for miles. It was mostly used in Afghanistan up in the Himalayas down to the plains. We had a lorry filled full of signal equipment, even a generator, and my favourite, a ten inch signal lamp. Day after day we would go out practising, roaming around Hampshire talking to other units until we were red hot at it. The day came when we got in our lorries and set off for pastures new, ie Cardiff.

Upon arrival we joined HMS Black Prince, a mine layer, and we waited. Then the day arrived when we set sail. Overhead flew planes with gliders attached. It seemed like hundreds, it reminded me somewhat similar to Singapore. Eventually we arrived at the beachhead where two naval ships were battering the shore. After the Strawberry was built by sinking ships to create a barrier just like the Mulberry at Arromanches. We landed at Coursailles Sur Mer on Juno Beach. We rushed to a big chateau nearby and went to the back where there was a mined orchard. A 20ft path was cleared so we could set up camp and start work. In this orchard was a 50ft water tower with a hole through the middle and a ladder from the floor to the top. I know that in my head I was Navy and not Army. We used to work shifts as if we were still on board, so from the top of this tower we were sending messages to the ships and also receiving, a rather hectic time, it did not even stop for darkness. We used to lay at night on our hammocks watching the fireworks display, ie tracer bullets. very pretty and ornamental, even watching the one ton shells from the big ships whooshing overhead was exciting. I was glad that i did not live in Bayeaux or Caen.

After a few days I was shifted to Oustreham to the Principal Beachmaster House. It was also very similar to where I came from in Juno, another Strawberry, another harbour. Funnily enough, it was more dangerous for us as German snipers were in the spires firing at us. We had to call the tanks in to blow the spires away. Then it was quiet and peaceful.

For the first 12 miles from the beaches an Admiral was in charge, Flag Officer British Army Ashore or FOBAR, together with Mountbatten on HMS Hilary. After the troops had liberated Caen our 12 miles were up so we handed it over to Montgomery. So, life in Oustreham was a doddle. Stores, soldiers and vehicles coming ashore every day, a nice easy life. Then came an order to quit Oustreham and report to some field which we did, together with all the other naval parties.

Away we went again, following the Army into Rouen, Rheims, Lille and Antwerp, where some of us dropped off to liberate the port. Onwards again, following the army into Brussels, we slipped off to a narrow road and followed it through Ghent, Bruges and Ostend. This is where I finished my time on the end of Ostend Pier. I was in Ostend for a long time, almost became a native, until I was sent home in December 1945 to get demobbed.

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