大象传媒

IT was a Sunday morning when I first heard of the plans leading up to D Day. The following are my recollections of that time. It was 60 years ago and the memory can play tricks, so apologies for any inaccuracies.

I was in the Royal Observer Corps at the time specialising in Aircraft Recognition. Colonel Rhyse, co-ordinating officer at the ROC post, Tear Three, in Tenbury Wells, Worcestershire contacted me. As requested, I went to Kyrewood House nearby where I was told of the big push to land our forces in Europe.

At that time, ammunition was stored around Ditton Priors and Stottesden. The by-pass at Church Stretton was packed with transport of all kinds and there were thousands of Americans in Leominster.

It was 1942 and I knew well the strength of our airforce. I had plotted the course of thousands of aircraft while on duty every fifth night from 10pm to 8 am. Indeed I was the only member at our post who received a Masters Certificate in Aircraft Recognition. So I was asked to volunteer for the Royal Navy for two months with the rank of Petty Officer and to be paid 拢1 a day. That was some pay rise for a 20 year old farmer's son. I was working for my father at our farm near Tenbury Wells and received 10s a week - about 50p a week today!

I received my call up later that week and reported to Bournemouth travelling by train from Newnham Bridge via Kidderminster, Oxford, Basingstoke and Southampton. I met many fellow ROC members there and was billeted in the Royal Bath Hotel with three members from Scotland.

We were taken to the North Cliff Hotel next morning to be instructed in Navy law and to sign the Official Secrets Act. We were given shoulder flashes "Seaborne Observer" to be sewn onto our uniforms. We were tested in aircraft recognition, taught how to salute and instructed on many other subjects - including sexual behaviour! We ended the week with an aircraft display which included captured German planes flying in low from the sea.

The following week, two of us were allocated to the "Maid of Orleans" in Southampton docks. She had three guns - 2 Oerlikons and a Bofers - plus ammunition boxes, all welded into place. We were permitted some time ashore and saw what damage the German bombs had done. It was amazing to see four cinemas still standing on the main street and still showing films!

A few days later we sailed out and anchored in the Solent in sight of Nab Tower. We took on board 6 LCAs [Landing Craft Assault vehicles] and remained there in the run up to June 4th. Then we sailed back into Southampton and took on board 400 4th Commandos. The other 600 went aboard the "Princess Astrid" which had 10 LCAs. I asked a Commando if he knew where they were going. He said he had been on the "Maid of Orleans" three times but always on exercise. He added that if I knew where they were going, I was a security risk. I realised the importance of keeping quiet!

We anchored out in the Solent again and all the ships in our convoy were given a balloon on a cable for air defence. I was fascinated by everything that was going on around me. The weather was rapidly deteriorating and a gale developed. Many of the balloons were blown away and the invasion was postponed for 24 hours.

My duties as a Seaborne Observer were to stay on the ship's bridge, identify all aircraft in the sky and tell the air-gunners their approach flight and make. I helped them on two occasions to identify for themselves what the planes were from just their silhouettes.

On June 5th, we waited for the weather to improve. It was an unwelcome wait for the Commandos who by now knew something important lay ahead. While on the bridge, I had a long conversation with Major Porteous VC, Senior Officer commanding the 4th Commandos on board. He asked me about my job in the Navy and how I came to be there. Then he told me all about Dieppe and how he won his VC. He invited me to the briefing on the Landings in Normandy that evening which was absolutely fantastic; so much planning had gone into it all.

That night we set sail for Normandy. We had a Navy escort through a channel swept by minesweepers and marked clearly with red lights down each side. As dawn broke, a German E-boat put two torpedoes into a Norwegian destroyer on our port beam, probably within just a mile of us, and blew it up. This was the first time I realised that I was at war and in great danger. It certainly brought you down to earth quickly. I think most of those on board the destroyer were rescued.

Later that morning, we anchored 7.5 miles off the Normandy beaches. The LCAs were launched with the commandos on board. The sea was still very rough so the soldiers had a lot to put up with even before they landed on Sword beach. They were due to land at 7.30am. Two rocket assault craft were meant to fire their rockets through the water and up the beach to blow up any mines before the LCAs were launched. However these never appeared so the Commandos had to go in without them. There were many casualties with the LCAs hitting mines on poles in the water even though it was high tide. We lost one of our LCAs this way but the coxswain was picked up out of the water severely shocked and in a bad way. Another of our craft was hit by a mortar shell which killed three soldiers and wounded several others. These included the Padre whose pack of bandages and dressings on his back was hit by the mortar. The pack took the brunt of it and saved his life but he had a terrible hole in his back. The "Princess Astrid" lost 3 LCAs.

Our remaining five LCAs returned about mid-morning and were pulled out of the water. It is hard to describe the bombardment from battleships, cruisers, destroyers, aircraft, the smoke screens along the beaches and the massive cover in the sky from the fighter aircraft.

When all the other LCAs, which had landed thousands of other troops along the beaches behind the Commandos, had returned to their carrier ships, a return convoy was formed. We set sail for the Solent through the same corridor cleared by the mine sweepers and escorted by battleships and destroyers. But as we passed Le Havre, some 14 miles out, we came under a barrage of fire from 16 inch guns on the mainland. Fortunately the HMS Rodney was able to reply and the destroyers soon laid a smoke screen to protect the convoy and we arrived home safely late that afternoon.

I remember well the amazing sight as we left France when 3000 bombers flew over us in waves to bomb the communication lines behind the fronts on the five beaches. They were supported by fighter aircraft, to name just a few - Lancasters, Halifax, Liberators, Fortresses, Mitchells, Marauders, Bostons, Mosquitoes, Hurricanes, Spitfires, Typhoons, Mustangs, Lightnings and Thunderbolts. The 4th Commandos included two safe-crackers so that when they captured a command post they could crack or blow open the doors of any safes they found.

Half way back, we started to spot the smaller supply ships some of which had started as far away as Scotland days before. Also we saw Pluto which was laying a pipeline so fuel could be pumped from Britain to France for our forces. Other ships were towing parts for the construction of Mulberry harbour.

We anchored in the Solent for a couple of days and then were sent to Newhaven to pick up about 1000 more troops. We took them over to France during the night in convoy and managed to unload them much nearer to the beach, this time Gold beach. Back we went to the Solent, again in convoy.

Our next crossing was dreadful. We anchored for a few days before being sent to Portsmouth to pick up more troops. This time we had a very bad crossing with gale force winds forcing the ship into a 15% roll both ways. Troops were sick all over the place; it took the crew the whole journey back to hose the ship clean from top to bottom. The gales smashed the newly-constructed Mulberry Harbour to pieces leaving just a few pieces standing as relics of the war.

It was during this trip that our steering gear jammed and we nearly hit amidships a destroyer which was at anchor. However we returned again that evening, in convoy as usual and went to Southampton dry dock for the fault to be repaired. It meant we could enjoy a couple of days shore leave. The number of mishaps I witnessed during my two months made me wonder how wars were ever won - by either side.

Back on board, we returned to the Solent, without our captain who had been given leave. We were sent to Newhaven, this time under the command of the First Mate. It was a very wet day with poor visibility but we arrived safely and called into port the following day to pick up more troops. We also picked up a new captain with whom I did not get along very well. He was a very different type to the previous one.

Our trip started badly. The anchor got caught under the bow which delayed us so we had to hurry to catch up the convoy. We unloaded our troops at Gold Beach and left to join our convoy at the collection point, with one destroyer alongside. We waited a long time but there was no sign of any other ships. Someone decided that the convoy had left without us so we set sail at maximum speed, 22 knots in a trail of smoke which could be seen for miles. We followed the destroyer closely and we were mid-Channel when someone decided the main convoy was behind us so we reduced our speed to 2 knots to let it catch up.

It was just before twilight and the main convoy was within sight when we were hit. I think it was a torpedo. Sailing over in the morning, there had been a lot of depth-charging done by our escort, so there were submarines in mid-Channel.

I had stepped down from the bridge and was talking to the Petty Officer in charge of our Bofers gun and the two Oerlikons on the same deck as two of our LCAs. The LCAs hung amidships on either side to keep the balance. When the explosion hit, it blew one of the LCA into bits and the davits swung back embedding themselves in the super-structure and pinning me to the deck in my saturated and very heavy duffel coat. The other Petty Officer pulled me out from beneath the iron where I was trapped and helped me to my feet checking that I was alright before leaving me to go to his evacuation centre. I dumped the great wet coat on deck and went to mine.

Jumping to the deck beneath, I helped to lower our lifeboat. With everyone aboard it, we rowed away just as our ship was going down. It was out of sight within 20 minutes. I realised then that I was the senior rank on board. We picked up more survivors from the water. All the life-jackets had a battery-run red light to clip onto the shoulders so survivors could be spotted in the water. These lights must have saved many lives; in our case it was getting very dark and we might not have been able to spot people without them in all the confusion.

The other LCA from our ship had been lowered into the water also and was picking up survivors. It could move faster than us with its two engines.

By nightfall, the main convoy had caught us up and left a destroyer to collect us. We drew alongside and they threw scrambling nets down the side for us to climb. As I was senior officer I helped all the other survivors up the nets before I left the lifeboat myself. Many years later by an extraordinary coincidence I was contacted by a man who was on the destroyer which picked us up and we met to exchange memories. Over all these years he had lived only a few miles from me in Worcestershire.

Once safe on board we enjoyed a very welcome hot drink and had a chance to catch our breath as we were taken back to Portsmouth Harbour. In the barracks there, we swung our hammocks and slept for two hours. After breakfast, we were debriefed before being sent back to Bournemouth's Royal Bath Hotel to prepare for a week's leave.

I made it back to Kidderminster late that evening and phoned home for them to come and collect me in the car, an Austin 12, Reg. No. DOA 294, for the rest of the journey. I walked on to meet them and had reached the Long Bank on the Tenbury side of Bewdley before they turned up. I was exhausted and very pleased to see my sister Mary and a cousin smiling at me from the car window.

When we got home, there were hugs all round, particularly from my parents and we had a huge supper. It was wonderful to be back in the comfort of a warm kitchen with delicious smells coming from the two-oven range. We sat and talked for quite a while and I explained what had been going on over the past 70 hours. My family only knew what they had read in the papers. I had written home and asked them to keep my letters. Obviously information in them was limited but I dated each one and knew I would remember once I got home where I was and what was happening at the time of writing each letter. It was a joy finally to fall into my own bed and sleep.

Saturday was a day of rest. Then on Sunday I volunteered to collect the cherry pickers from up the Clee Hill at 8.30am so that our neighbour who did a lot of driving for us could have a day off. I went in our Austin lorry ENP 412. It was back to work as usual on the farm for the rest of the week's "leave". It amused me to find our crawler tractor, an Allis Chalmers Model M, still parked in the field where I had left it. As if time had stood still. I could take you to the exact spot right now!

When I returned to Bournemouth, they decided to discharge me from the Navy as I had only a week left of my two month stint. Back home I went, leaving all my spare clothes at the bottom on the English Channel.

During the six weeks which I served in the Royal Navy I must say I never saw a German plane. However, if I had not gone, I would never have known what war is really all about. There were so many in the forces who should have received medals for gallantry but did not survive for their bravery to be recognised. But I recognise just how many men and women put themselves forward as leaders and turn out to be great people in this world.

Jim Froggatt May 2004

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