大象传媒

MY LIFE MY WAR

By
Bernard Hallas

Chapter 8a - A French Catastrophe

I have to mention that as Gracie made her way to the theatre in a chauffeur driven black car, suitable for a 鈥淪tar鈥�, she was surrounded by a throng of merry Sailors and Marines who promptly picked the car up and carried a triumphant Gracie and her car to the steps of the theatre. She loved every moment of it, and so did we.

The next day was a day of surprises. A French Destroyer, from memory I think it was called Le Francais Mail Brieze or something near to that, was loading with ammunition, mainly Torpedoes. It was rumoured, after the event that the Torpedoes were primed in the barges alongside. It was most unfortunate that as one was being hoisted inboard towards its stowage, the lifting cable snagged on a corner of the superstructure. It is easy to say after the event, but some person unknown kicked the cable loose and the disentangled Torpedo swung inboard and exploded on impact.

There was a terrific explosion and a huge flame shot through the small ship. Men were blown overboard, others were trapped between decks, many could be seen trying to squeeze out of the too small portholes and over all there was a red haze. All ships in the harbour had ordered their boats to the rescue, but all movement on the upper deck had ceased, only the screams of the men between decks could tell you of the tragedy that was unfolding before our eyes. It was now apparent that nothing could be done to alleviate the suffering of the trapped seamen.

There was but one thing to do, and I am glad that I was not the Senior Officer who gave the order to our own warships to fire their Torpedoes and send her to the bottom. In minutes it was all over, only the film of smoke, which was slowly, drifting away gave some sort of clue, that on this clear day, a proud ship had gone down and brave men had died. In after thought it was a decision that had to be made. If the ship鈥檚 magazine had exploded, the ammunition barge alongside would also have gone up, and in that small harbour with warships lying only cables from each other, there would have been a catastrophe of gigantic proportions.

The next day, I was once again on watch as Corporal of the gangway, a duty that comprised of checking everything that came in or went out of the ship. Just after I had taken over for the afternoon watch the Admiral鈥檚 barge signalled that it was coming alongside. We had been warned that an important personage was to come on board, but in those days of top security, no name had been mentioned. Looking over the ship鈥檚 side I instantly recognised the old peaked cap and the ever-present cigar.

It was, it was 鈥榃innie鈥� himself. Now, this would start the rumours going. He was entertained in the Wardroom (Officers鈥�) Mess for a short time, spent an equally short time in the Admirals鈥� quarters and then made his departure as quietly as he had arrived. No doubt he had left behind the 鈥淪ealed Orders鈥�, that would only be disclosed when we were well out to sea. This was confirmed a short time later when experienced eyes observed that the Destroyers were getting up steam in preparation for leaving harbour, and then our own tannoy blared out 鈥淐able party, close up, all hands prepare for leaving harbour. Recover and secure all ships boats鈥�.

We were off, where to was any one鈥檚 guess; the orders would only be opened at the Captain鈥檚 discretion. A mere formality, I suppose, Churchill would no doubt have whispered a few words in the old Sea dog鈥檚 ear. It was not going to be a mad dash to any place in particular; we spent some time exercising with short bouts of main armament gunnery and then to our disgust, finished up in Scapa Flow, or to the older hands, 鈥淒evil鈥檚 Island鈥�.

Once again it was a whole fleet disgorging twenty five per cent of it鈥檚 ships companies into one small pub, 鈥淒evil鈥檚 Island鈥� was an apt description, one pint per rating, a shortage of glasses and no time for a second helping. It was almost a pleasure to proceed to sea again. We did however get enough time to write our letters and after they had been censored by the officers, and partially destroyed by scissors, they were taken to the mainland for posting.

Time was passing quickly and now, being far from land and no danger of information being transmitted to shore, the sealed order was opened and we knew at long last what was in store for us. It would appear that North of the Arctic Circle in a little Norwegian harbour at the end of a long and freezing cold fjord, was a small town called Narvik. In this harbour sheltered a full flotilla of the latest class of German warships i.e. ten Destroyers, which periodically sallied forth and patrolled the North Atlantic, looking for and sinking whenever possible any convoy taking much needed and essential supplies to our Russian allies.

The previous week a small British force, under the command of Captain Warburton Lee had intercepted the much more powerful German force and had suffered heavy losses, Captain Warburton Lee died in the engagement but for his heroic action he was awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross. Before breaking contact the British force had destroyed two of the enemy ships, which was good news for us, we now had only eight enemy ships to confront.

In deciding to send in a much heavier force, My Lords of Admiralty had chosen HMS Warspite, described by the media as an old Battleship and a veteran of Jutland in 1918, implying by their tone that if we were destroyed, it would not be such a great loss. It was not stated that the 鈥淥ld鈥� battleship had been completely rebuilt and at this moment in time, was one of the most respected and efficient Warships in the Fleet with a gunnery record second to none. Came the day, our destroyer escort took station on our Port and Starboard beams, we were amazed and at the same time delighted.

It was a full flotilla of the very latest Tribal class, The Eskimo, The Cossack, The Punjabi and seven more very capable destroyers. Admiral Forbes had designated Vice Admiral Whitworth to take command of the combined force and we assembled inside Vestfiord about one hundred miles from Narvik and became 鈥淔orce B鈥�. At 07.30 we proceeded at maximum (for us) speed up Vestfiord. It was snowing and visibility was approximately ten miles.

The Admiral addressed the ship鈥檚 company, informed us that we were going into Narvik to destroy enemy shipping and he wished us all, the very best success. It was 1152 when we arrived at Ofotfiord and we launched our Swordfish to report on the positions of the enemy ships. During the course of it鈥檚 observation, the plane piloted by Petty Officer Fred Rice attacked and sank a Submarine, U.64, the first U Boat to be sunk by the Fleet Air Arm. We were now under attack ourselves by Gun Batteries, Shore based Torpedoes and another Submarine which was forced to take evasive action by our Destroyers and of which we eventually lost contact.

The German destroyers rather than engage in direct confrontation, lay in ambush in the small fiords approaching the port, although they did inflict damage on our Destroyers, they were eventually destroyed by the massive fire power of the attacking British force. It was an outstanding piece of Naval strategy. We had suffered some casualties in the smaller ships but we (The Warspite), retired victorious and undamaged. We did however take some of the wounded off the Destroyers (Our Medical facilities were much more competent), and lay to, while a short but impressive service was conducted and our dead comrades were given the last rites, where necessary before we committed them to a watery grave.

Before leaving, we did make a parting gesture to the Germans, by bombarding beyond the town, in the foothills where, fearing that an invasion was taking place, German sailors and troops had fled to regroup. Since first passing Baroy Island at 1214 pm and sinking the last Destroyer, the Bernd von Arnim in Rombanksfiord, it had taken the British force just over three hours to destroy the whole German force along with their supply ships and remove a thorn that had been annoying the convoys to Russia for many months past.

Now it was time to get back to the open sea, no doubt there would be attacks by retaliating German bombers and the narrow confines of the Norwegian fiords would not be a healthy place to be in. We remained around Norway for a few days, carrying out the occasional bombardment as required and then feeling quite satisfied with the result of our expedition we made our way to our home base.

The news of our success had just hit the headlines and as we steamed up the Clyde, all ships flew the signal 鈥淲ell Done鈥�. The press had a complete change of heart and the 鈥淥ld Battleship鈥� now became one of Britain鈥檚 recently modernised ships. If we thought that our victory deserved a few days leave, we were sadly mistaken. Spending just enough time in Greenock to replace our spent ammunition and refuel, we took in our anchor and left for parts unknown which later turned out to be Alexandria, The Battle of Narvik had made us famous and Admiral of the Fleet Sir Andrew Cunningham wanted a Flagship and who better to fly his flag, but HMS Warspite.

The flag was flying proudly from the ship鈥檚 mast on the evening of the 10th May 1940. The very next day the Warspite had to go into dock for extensive repairs to make good the damage to her decks and superstructure, which she had inflicted on herself during her heavy firing at Narvik. She was finally ready to take her place in the fleet on the 24th May. Seventeen days later, Italy declared war on Britain the date was June 10th. Within hours, Cunningham took the entire British fleet to sea and swept the eastern end of the Mediterranean.

There were no Italian warships or Italian convoys to be seen, even the Italian Air Force stayed well out of sight. It was obvious that Battleships, had, by nature of their consumption to be used economically and consequently their crews were more fortunate than the smaller vessels who took periodic sweeps of the Eastern end of the Med and escorted small convoys to Malta and North Africa.

In itself Alex was not one of the most desirable places to be in for long stretches at a time, but it had a certain amount of charm, once you had found your way around. It has to be said that where there are 鈥淒ock side 鈥渁reas, there are of course brothels. This is recognised the world over and Alexandria had it鈥檚 fair share. The Rue es seurs was not very far from the town centre. Going under it鈥檚 more popular known name 鈥淪ister Street鈥� was one such district and was the haunt of many of the servicemen on leave from units all over North Africa, mainly the Australians who had been having a rough time on the desert routes from Sidi Barani or Bardia and Torbruk.

With too many customers and not enough girls, there was tension on most nights and the Madams and their charges had to be protected. The Royal Marines from each Capital ship had to provide police patrols and it was often one of my regular duties. The Madams were so grateful for the presence of these patrols, that free beer was always available and made the job a little more pleasant, despite the many unpleasant disputes with, what we considered to be, the undisciplined Aussies, I was not a 鈥淕oody Goody鈥�, but brothels were not my idea of a night out.

It was far more pleasant to make your way to the nearest YWCA, have light refreshments provided and more often than not, music and dancing. In the afternoons equipped with towel and trunks it was only a short ride to 鈥淟e Bay des Amaroux鈥�, or, translated 鈥淭he Bay of Sweethearts鈥�.

This was my favourite jaunt, it was a lovely beach and the only problem was a shortage of female company. The answer was back in town. We were always welcome at the YWCA on the corner of Mohammed Ali Square and while not wanting to be unfaithful, we were a long way from home and it was more than a little pleasant to spend some time with very attractive female company.

Tea and cakes and soft drinks were plentiful and in no time at all most of the visitors were pairing off for visits to the beach and it was all in good clean fun. It was a lot better than getting sloshed on the foul smelling Arab beer being dished up in the over crowded Naval canteen.

In no time at all I had the good fortune to be invited to an afternoon beach party and I was paired off with a really beautiful French Egyptian girl by the name of Tony, short for Antoinette. Her father was the manager of the local branch of the Prudential and I suppose that he thought the world of his daughter, but he would have died if he could have seen her at that beach party. Taking me by the hand, she led me to a large wooden changing room and it only took a minute to remove what few garments she wore in that hot climate.

I have already said that she was beautiful I have to repeat myself. About five feet four, she had an all over tan without one single blemish, and standing there in nothing but her high heeled shoes, she was in no doubt that she was the most desirable thing on the beach and at the same time, she gave out an aura of untouchability. Stepping into a slinky one piece, she tied her hair back and laughed, she obviously knew that she had this effect on men.

Chapter 8a - A French Catastrophe

Looking at her gorgeous rounded body standing there in her high heels I thought to myself, 鈥淚f ever I am to be unfaithful, this is the moment. I would be lying in my teeth if I tried to say that I was not sexually aroused but I felt helpless and could do nothing. Quickly slipping into my trunks, I followed her down to the waterline and holding hands, we plunged into the cool clear water.

I was never more grateful for the chance to cool down. After a pleasant afternoon swim we made our way back to Alex鈥� and tea at the YWCA, followed by an early evening dance and then back to the jetty in time to catch the last liberty boat back to the ship.

Shortly after breakfast the next day, I was duty watch aboard and eagerly looking forward to the following day ashore, it was not to be; the dreaded tannoy ordered the ship鈥檚 company to prepare for sea and by mid morning we were making our way to somewhere on the African coast. The Admiralty had been requested to give a bombardment support to the men of the 8th Army, who were just about holding their own in a dirty coastal area going under the name of Bardia.

At dawn the next morning, three Battleships and a fifteen-inch Monitor fired more than a hundred high explosive one-ton shells into the fortifications ahead of our advancing troops. A signal received later thanked the Navy and said that we had made life much easier.

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