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The two of us started our trek but I don’t think we had gone 6 yards before we were confronted by Lieutenant Hepple. He said ‘Ah Mason, you are my Senior Leading Seaman, the Navigating Officer is still on board, I want you to come back with me to rescue him (apparently he had been wounded in the head and made comfortable, perhaps lapsed into unconsciousness and in their last minute panic when the shelling had started again he was left on board.) Now, having recovered, he could be seen walking up and down on the quarter deck. Hepple went on "I will meet you down at the beach in five minutes time." I turned to Joe and asked "Are you coming?" He said "No"

Still having the ships ensign with me I pushed it into the snow-bank, marked the spot, intending to pick it up later and made for the beach to find the Torpedo Officer already there. We selected a carley float, pushed it out until it floated, jumped in and paddled away, detouring clear of the ship bows until we got under the stern, and slightly on the port side. The for'ard part of the ship was on fire, burning fiercely, ammunition exploding sending miriads of sparks and burning debris into the air. Here we were comparatively safe and the only other worry was a German patrolling destroyer out in the fjord. Someone could easily have opened up on us with a machine gun, but they did’nt interfere.

Close up to the ship's side we could not see the Navigator and he made no attempt to look over the guard rails.Our problem now was how to get onboard as there was no hand grip or any sort and with the side straight it must have been a good seven or eight feet to the edge of the deck. I said I would try and jump for it, so standing on the edge of the float I leapt upwards, but with the raft being unstable all I managed was the edge of the upper deck with my fingers. I hung there a couple of seconds and as the raft had moved away slightly I fell back into the icy water completely submerged. The T.L. dragged me back in, so it was back to square one - wet and cold.Torps then got desperate and called "Pilot throw us a line, throw us a line!" I said "There are life lines rigged from the after superstructure to the depth charge rails but I don’t suppose he has a knife to cut them." (These had been rigged up a few days ago when we were in stormy seas off the Norwegian coast.)

It was then that my seaman’s knife came in useful again and undoing it from my waist I handed it to the T.L. and very carefully he tossed it onboard over the guard rails. We waited for what seemed ages, and then for the first time the Navigating Officer appeared at the guard rails with a rope and started passing it over the side into our raft. I watched fascinated as he took the loose end and ever so slowly and deliberately secured it with a clove hitch. We now had means of getting onboard. In the meantime a little rowing boat had turned up manned by a solitary man — Stoker Bowden. No questions were asked and Hepple told me to take the boats painter and make it fast to the carley float which I did, or thought I did!

The T.L. then told me to climb onboard first, and go down to his cabin, search out any civilian clothes of his and get changed into dry ones as quickly as possible. With a bit of sunlight shafting into the cabin I soon stripped off my wet clothes and in their place I had dry underwear, socks, his best flannels, sports jacket and over that a kind of waterproof anorak. There was a nice pair of shoes but they were too pointed — they hurt my toes so I had to revert back to the wellingtons. Back on deck I found that they had got the Navigator into the raft — he was very quiet and I could see that he had been knocked about badly. Also they had loaded the dinghy with blankets, cigarettes and a few bottles of spirits located in the ward room stores. There were other things passed down of which I was unaware and it was not until many years later that I found out what they were!

I was now back on the raft with Hepple onboard saying he was going to destroy the Captain's safe with an explosive charge and we were to be ready to push off as soon as he came over the side. He was going to attach a TNT charge and fire it with a length of slow burning ‘bickfords’ safety fuse, giving us time to push off as soon as he came over the side for the last time.

The next minute he was over and down the rope and looking over yelled at me — "You bloody fool you have let the dinghy slip away!" Sure enough it had come adrift and was about two yards off. I said we could easily get it but he blurted out we had to get well clear as quickly as possible before the charge went off. And so we lost the dinghy and contents, but nothing more was said. Thinking back on it I wondered why I had been so careless in not making sure the painter was more secure, but then after being submerged in the icy water , my fingers may have been quite numb!

We were well clear and near the beach when the charge detonated bowing a huge hole in the starboard side of the ship. Walking the Navigator slowly up to the house we handed him over to the surgeon, thankful that the whole exercise had gone off without any mishap, except for the loss of the dinghy. I never saw Lieutenant Commander Gordon-Smith again and after a spell in hospital in Ballanger he was spirited away one night along with the others, by Norwegians across the fjord to Harstad where he was embarked on one of H.M ships back to the UK. He never recovered his injuries and died about four months later. For outstanding courage in the Narvik raid he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.

Back at the house I was greeted with some peculiar looks and remarks, regarding my dress — "Where the bloody hell did you get that rig out from?’ "Why didn’t you tell us you had found a posh clothes shop?" "Trust you!" They were to learn later.

But then Stoker Bowden and myself were called to go up to the pay table and get paid. A small bit of furniture had been rigged up and every lower deck man received something. The first in the queue received one pound note and 2-shilling pieces, others 10-shilling notes and 2-shilling pieces. Stokes and myself being last received the smaller amount. Then it struck me where the money had come from. Gunner McCracken, after he had collected it from the ships safe, had handed it in. My estimation and respect for him changed instantly!

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