大象传媒

I had been in a reserved occupation as an electrician in my home town of Ropley, Hampshire, but had, like so many others wanted to 'have a go at them'. I had long dreamed of flying Spitfires, so volunteered for the RAF. Within days my call-up papers for the Navy arrived.

Since I had volunteered they had first call!!

After initial training and time in Malta and Algiers, I was posted back home to HMS Vernon in Portsmouth, then to the pre war girls college Roedean at Brighton. All the girls had departed, but some of the signs remained much to the amusement of we matelots. 鈥業f you need Matron, Call.鈥� Roedean had been taken over by the Navy to be used as an electrical training school. The comfort enjoyed, after the bunks with the feet in tins of paraffin to deter the bed bugs in Algiers, was much appreciated.

Back to barracks in Portsmouth, now promoted to Leading Wireman, and the wait for my next adventure. It came in the form of a few days work on the battleship HMS Nelson. Thank God it was not to last any more than a few days. Life on a large battleship reminded me too much of boarding school. To make certain, I made a few telephone repair 鈥榚rrors鈥�. Officers on the bridge would pick up a demanding phone, only to get a deafening blast in the ear. I was sent back to re-qualify, much to the amazement of my old instructors. When quizzed I said simply 鈥淚 don鈥檛 like big ships, sir鈥�. This was met with raised eyebrows, and leave instead of the classroom. Then I received my next posting I knew not where, other than I was to catch a troop train to Liverpool.

Another troopship, this time to Canada, where I was to commission a Landing Ship Tank (LST) being built at Levis on the opposite side of the St. Lawrence to Quebec City. These ocean going vessels were designed to deliver tanks right up onto the beaches, and the ones being built while I was there were intended for the Pacific theatre - the long murderous hopskotch fight over the islands to Japan. I was to join the next ship out. Not a good prospect.

First, I was billeted in Canadian navy barracks doing nothing. I had my trumpet with me, and practising one day laying on my bunk, a loud authoritative voice boomed 鈥淲ho鈥檚 making that Goddawful noise up there?鈥� It turned out that the owner of the voice, a Canadian navy officer, had contacts in the city and I soon found myself playing with the local Al Bedard band. My trip out kept being postponed as I did regular gigs at the Salle de Variete in down town Quebec and others further afield. I was in heaven and earning money too the like of which I had never seen.

I was in Quebec for 11 months and had the time of my life.

Having been in Algiers for such a long time, my French was quite good and improved no end in Quebec. Both victory days, Europe and Japan were spent here. I could not have found a better place and people with which to end my war service. It had to end of course, and eleven months after my arrival, I boarded LST3524 headed down river to Boston and then on to Gibraltar. As we steamed past Quebec, a small launch came alongside to deliver a packet for 鈥淟addie Dibben鈥�. Al and the band had made a collection for me and presented me with an expensive Tissot watch.

I wondered if I would ever see Francoise again. I received a letter from her ending 鈥渕ille lecs d鈥檃mour鈥� but there was no address. I had lent my navy mate $40. 鈥淚鈥檒l pay you back.鈥� Of course, I never heard from him again either.

My war had been always interesting, occasionally very scary, certainly challenging. But, compared to tens of thousands of the armed forces personnel, I had been extremely lucky. Extremely lucky indeed.

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