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On one occasion I had returned to the mess feeling extremely tired, ready for the evening meal and also for some rest. I came to life when the `Navvy` appeared at the mess door-鈥淐hief, have you pulled up the pito-tube?鈥� Instead of replying I said, 鈥淗ave n`t I reported to you?鈥�-His reply-鈥淚 can鈥檛 remember鈥�.

The `Navvy` happened to be the duty officer supervising the `chain gang` and the chain had fouled something immovable. Immediately, the `Navvy` and I, followed by a petty officer and two seamen, were rapidly descending to the pitometer-log compartment located in the bowels of the ship.

Arriving at the last hatchway to be negotiated the `Navvy` politely apologized and stated that the hatch had to be lowered and secured behind me. With some trepidation I descended, armed with a torch and a prayer, to investigate. The pito-tube had been wrenched out of the vertical position, still protruding through the hull with water pouring through a distorted sealing gland.

Tremendous relief to know I was not sitting on top of a limpet mine, only a little concern at the possible damage done by the chain. The hatch lifted, the pito-tube withdrawn, surprisingly intact, the sealing gland and inflow of water attended to, `Navvy` agreeing that he was partly to blame for the omission- everybody was happy.

At this time it was considered necessary to go to Massawa, in Italian Eritrea, to get the ship into dry-dock for inspection of the hull and to carry out any repairs needed. This entailed a journey of about twelve hundred miles south through the Suez Canal and down the west coast of the Red Sea.

The next few days the crew enjoyed almost peace-time routines, with hatches and portholes open, and when the heat and humidity allowed, complete relaxation from the threats of war.

During the journey south I was `playing` with the depth-recorder as an evening pastime, replacing component parts and making `hit and miss` adjustments to the electrical circuits. I had had no training on the depth-recorder and the set was working mechanically, as I thought it should, but no readings appeared on the iodised paper roll.

The evening of our expected arrival at Massawa I was again trying to get a positive response from the depth-recorder. The usual `hit and miss` adjustments and-`Eureka`-faint purple markings appeared on the recording roll.

The `Navvy` was aware of my evening pastime and he surprised me by his sudden appearance by my side. He was somewhat agitated. Due to the slight errors on the compass and pitometer-log the plotting table showed the position of the ship, apparently, to be six miles inland and, as expected, a few miles short of our destination.

The reason for the `Navvy`s agitation was that darkness prevented him identifying any landmarks-鈥淐ould I get a reading from the depth-recorder?鈥� He saw what had appeared on the readout and quickly showed me how to interpret the reading.

The following telephone communication - `Navvy` in the charthouse reading depths from the chart and myself confirming by readings given by the depth-recorder, the ship was soon safely at anchor in Massawa.

Morning dawned, bringing with it heat and humidity greater than I had previously experienced, even too high for house-flies to survive. When the ship was secure in the floating dock it rapidly became like an oven. Water was strictly rationed and `prickly-heat` was prevalent.

Fortunately, arrangements were made for parts of the crew to spend three days, on a rota basis, at Asmara, about sixty miles inland, at such an altitude that the weather was similar to Spring-time in England. These were welcome breaks and the `holiday-makers` dreaded returning to the ship. When the inspections and repairs were complete the ship made the return journey to Port Said and what the future held.

During the early part of Sept.1942 there had been a great deal of activity in the area of Alamein, with attacks by Axis forces on the 8th. Army defences. The intention of the enemy was to break through to Alexandria and Cairo.

In reply to these attacks a number of raids by Allied commandos were planned for 13th. Sept. to act as a diversion to a major attack by army units, carried and supported by the navy, on the Axis base of Tobruk. The objective was to destroy installations, stocks of oil, free four thousand British prisoners and then withdraw by sea.

The requirement of Dido in this operation was to bombard installations at Daba as a diversion to the main attack. The plan was to approach under cover of darkness, follow a swept channel through the minefield, when within range, carry out the bombardment and get away before the enemy guns could find their target.

When closed up for `Action-Stations` my function was in charge of the mid-ships electrical repair party, located adjacent to No.1.Gyro-compass room, awaiting any incident that required our attention. I would occasionally check the performance of the gyro, more to relieve tension than in expectation of any failure.

I was idly watching the movement of the compass when the guns ceased firing and the ship made a rapid `about-turn`. To my consternation the gyro rotor `toppled` and I was immediately involved in getting it back to a stable condition. What was happening on the `bridge` I could only imagine but the `Navvy` must have been on the ball as the change was quickly made to the alternative gyro and we safely made our exit from the minefield.

The inevitable questions were to be asked and the first was put to me whilst vainly trying to find the cause of the failure. I had been aboard the Dido for nine months and never been approached by the Torpedo Lieutenant, head of the division to which I belonged. The failure of the gyro at such a critical moment and the re-actions on the `bridge`, must have made him decide to sort out the problem.

The lieutenant appeared and the questions began. These I answered with some authority and the subject changed when he asked where he had met me before. He left quietly when I reminded him that I was his gyro compass instructor at Roedean in 1941.

The `Navvy` was the next person to raise the subject of the failure. This was more of a discussion as to the cause of the failure of the compass, but with no answers.

The ship moved to Haifa in Palestine at a later date and it was here that I received my one and only punishment as a defaulter.

Mount Carmel over-looked the harbour at Haifa and when shore-leave permitted, my messmates and I would enjoy a drink and a meal in the establishments located at the top of the mountain.

On one occasion we had had a glass or two of Carmel Hock in our favourite bar and had decided to move to the usual restaurant for our meal. `Jock` Mclean, the chief ordnance artificer, decided to forego the meal and wait in the bar for the rest of the group. We would pick him up on returning to the ship.

My messmates moved off and left me to pick up `Jock`. Unfortunately, the Carmel Hock had taken charge and Jock had, literally, to be picked up. With the help of the proprietor, `Jock` was hoisted onto my shoulders and the descent of the mountain commenced.

We eventually arrived at the jetty only to see the liberty boat on the way back to the ship. The coxswain immediately reversed to allow us to embark but the midshipman decided otherwise and we were left stranded. The boat was sent back and we arrived on board to be told that leave had been overstayed and we were to report to the defaulters table the following morning 鈥� Awarded three days stoppage of leave and pay.

The following day the `Navvy` contacted me and said, 鈥淚 hear you are in trouble Chief, but never mind you will be able to give the gyros a D.2. This normally meant a two yearly overhaul by dockyard specialists. My reaction was to say,鈥� I can`t do that, it`s a dockyard job, anyway, it has to be `done by the book`鈥�. 鈥淵es鈥� was his reply, 鈥漈hat is why I have brought you the manual鈥�.

The overhaul of the gyros was completed and during the operation I had found the bearings of the gyro gimbals to be worn. This had been the cause of the faulty performance of the gyros and having replaced the bearings both the `Navvy` and I were satisfied with a difficult job well done

Our stay at Haifa was a relatively quiet one, almost completely divorced from the threats of war. Unfortunately this was not to last. Towards the end of 1942 Dido moved to the western end of the Mediterranean and became involved in the invasion of North West Africa by Anglo-American forces.

During the month of December the ship was operating out of Algiers, intercepting and attacking convoys of ships from Italy. These ships were intended to supply Axis forces to the east in Tunisia.

At this time there was political dissention between the various French leaders in Algeria and Algiers was a `hot-bed` of unrest. Nevertheless, shore-leave was permitted and on Dec. 24th some of my messmates and I were exploring the town when the French Admiral Darlan was assassinated. We became aware of the incident when advised by military police to return to our ship in case of trouble arising between opposing French factions.

In January 1943, Dido moved to Bone, the main logistics port for the 1st. and 8th. Allied armies. The port had been occupied by British paratroops on Nov.12th and during the following weeks was the focal point for enemy air-attacks. It was here that I saw rocket barrages in action for the first time 鈥� awesome.

On the 19th January I left Dido to join Coastal Forces, the branch of the Royal Navy manning motor-torpedo boats, motor-gun boats and motor-launches . For the next two years I was to experience a complete change of life style to the one I had been used to during the previous six years of naval service.

(A summary of the time I spent in Coastal Forces accompanies these pages)

In Nov. 1944, my three years stint in the Mediterranean completed, I returned to the U.K. and the more familiar naval routines, including home leave, reunion with my wife and the first introduction to my infant son.

After the usual joining routine at R.N. Barracks in Portsmouth, two weeks leave and a short time hanging about in barracks waiting for someone to decide what to do with me, I was shunted off once more to Roedean, the school near Brighton.

Very soon I was enjoying a life of peaceful domesticity with my wife and son, living in `digs` in Kempton, Brighton, commuting by bus to and from Roedean where I was instructing personnel in electrical distribution, covering all aspects of electrical equipment in naval ships.

In May 1945 I moved to a training establishment in Eastbourne where I took over the training of personnel in the use of coding machines.

In Aug.1945 it was intended that I should take a new coding machine to the naval base in Boston, America and train American personnel in it`s maintenance and operation. I had had a short course at Creeds of Croydon, the makers of the equipment and had enjoyed draft leave when the war ended - the exercise was cancelled
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I continued as an instructor at Eastbourne until Sept. 1946 when I resumed `Foreign Service` by joining H.M.S. Liverpool in the Mediterranean.

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