大象传媒

Convoy One. The Red Sea.
I spent my 7th birthday on board SS Otranto steaming through the Red Sea bound for a port in England that had not been designated for purposes of security.

The Thornely family were the first civilians to leave Bombay to re-settle in England during the War. How my father, Frank, had managed to secure berths in February 1944 for a wife and 3 small childres, and all his goods in numerous trunks and packing cases is still a mystery. My mother carried the family silver in a specially made waistcoat for safety and if she had had to swim would have sank like a stone.

The SS Otranto was returning to England prior to the Normandy Invasion which of course we did not know. To us kids, it was a great adventure. The large passenger liner, formerly with P&O, was in a convoy of one and traveling fast and hoping that a lone ship would miss the Japanese submarines that were known to be in the area.

My elder brother Anthony and I shared the same bunk, and my mother shared with sister Celia thus managing to sleep 14 souls in one cabin of 12 berths. Anthony and I slept at opposite ends of the bunk which meant that his feet were always kicking me in the face. Being the younger brother, I did not dare to complain.

My father slept elsewhere with the men and we never visited his quarters. He had fought through World War I and had survived the first assault wave on the Somme on 1st July, 1916. He had lived and worked in Bombay as a Cotton Broker from 1920 to 1944 and had enjoyed the typical lavish life style during the last days of the British Raj; my parents were married in Bombay and we three kids were born in Bombay.

On my 7th birthday we were awakened by shouts on deck and the feel of the ship changing course. We dressed rapidly and went on deck remembering to take our life belts with us (nasty hard things with stiff webbing). Crowds gathered on the starboard side and were staring towards the horizon. In the distance 3 plumes of very black smoke were rising into the sky, even at that distance the smoke looked different. Very black, slow moving, not like wood smoke, and clearly visible against the blue sky. It was rumoured that Japanese submarines had torpedoed 3 British tankers from Aden, and it also meant that the submarines were still in the area. The air raid sirens sounded, that creepy wailing noise that rises and falls, and we were ushered to the boat stations and forced to don our life jackets.

We knew when we arrived at the scene because the sea was covered in thick black oil with a very nasty smell. Heavy sticky stuff. No ships could be seen except a lifeboat with only 3 men on board.
They were hauled up on deck and stood there completely covered with the black slimey oil.

Only 3 survivors from 3 ships. No one remembered to celebrate my birthday.

Convoy Two. The Mediterranean.
You can see both banks of the Suez Canal and it was very exciting to see a train of camels and we noticed how they seem to walk so slowly and deliberately with their heads in the air. When we arrived at Port Said, it was rumoured that all the civilians would be left behind to make room for 400 American soldiers. We later heard that the American Commander refused to allow this and said that his soldiers would prefer to sleep on deck rather than leave us behind. The SS Otranto was now seriously overloaded with British troops, the civilians and now the additional Americans.

We children loved the Americans and they loved us. They always seemed to have some gift of candy or chewing gum and this was the first time I had ever tasted Wrigleys Spearmint and the taste still brings back memories. The Americans seemed so larger than life with their loud voices and slow
accents.

The Mediterranean Sea was not yet safe from German U Boats so the strategy was to collect a very large convoy and progress to Gibralter by force. When we set sail, you could see ships in all directions, like an armada. Each ship flew a barrage balloon on its stern to discourage German Dive Bombers, the Stukas. Amongst the convoy were many warships including HMS Warspite, one of our largest battleships. We all crammed the decks when she went past, simply enormous with great turrets of 15" guns with a range of over 20 miles. We were intrigued by the destroyers who regularly circled the entire convoy, they were so much faster than us, with great bow waves white with foam and speed. It is believed to be the largest convoy ever assembled.

But the real excitement was gunnery practice. I can't imagine how I was allowed to stay on deck to watch this but it was so real. The gun crews wore steel helmets and moved so quickly with the loading and unloading, and swiveling guns round. On the command of "Fire" we all covered our ears and the noise of the explosion was enormous. Then the clatter of the empty shell, the smoke and the crisp smell of cordite.

One of the ships towed a target 200 yards behind it on a cable, and we tried to hit it, but it looked awfully small.

A very exciting time for 7 year old boy, who knew nothing of war, death, invasions or even the challenge of feeding over a thousand people on one ship, three times a day.

Convoy Three. Nebury.
After landing in Liverpool, we became reluctant guests of a distant relative who had a comfortable, genteel house in Kingsclere, near Newbury. The owner Mrs Purnell did not like children and I later learned that she did us no favours and my father paid a handsome rent for us to stay. No wartime favours from her, especially a family who had lived a luxury life in India with no rationing, blackouts, shortages and bombing. In spite of nearly five years of war she appeared to live in luxure with a maid and a full time gardener. We three children spent most of our time with the gardener, Mr Palmer, who spent most of his time pottering in the large Victorian greenhouse.

Mr Palmer was a mine of information about the war. He could identify the many aeroplanes flying overhead including one with twin fuselages called a Lightning. There were also many gliders and of course we did not know that they were all getting ready for 'D' Day.

One June morning, the road outside was jammed with army lorries all heading South towards Southampton.
For over two hours, the three of us watched the convoy with thousands of camouflaged lorries, many towing field guns, grinding nose to tail down the road from left to right. The soldiers waved cheerfully at us but we could not hear what they
said.

Then the next moment, the convoy stopped and all was quiet.

"Hey Kid!" said a soldier, "do you think you could refill my water bottle?"

He handed me one of those khaki covered metal water bottles with webbing straps. Ever eager to please, I dashed off in search of Mr Palmer to get the bottle filled as I was too scared to go into the house in case I had dirty feet. Typically, I could not find Mr Palmer and I raced down the kitchen garden to find him, but be had disappeared. I did not want to disappoint the soldier and yet I did not want to take too long either, and I had been gone quite a long time already.

So, bravely I went into the kitchen to find the cook, hoping not to meet Mrs Purnell, and of course I did.

"You've got dirty feet" she shouted shrilly.

"I want some water for the soldiers", I replied.

It seemed to take ages to fill the bottle and I finally ran back into the road.

All the lorries had gone. Well,not quite all as just one remained.

The soldier took my bottle quickly, said thank you, and swung himself into the back of the lorry as they sped off to catch up with the convoy.

The day was 5th June 1944.

I always remember that moment as one of acute embarrassment. What I thought would be a simple gesture of finding water for a soldier ended up as a horrible nightmare. I felt so humiliated, and I cringe when I think of it now.

Nick Thornely

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