大象传媒

MEMORIES OF A LOVELY LADY

At the age of 13 I was despatched, for my Secondary School training, to The Nautical College Pangbourne. Not, I think, that my parents or I realised that I was destined for the sea but only that I had shown certain interest in that direction.
By 1941, two years after the start of the second world war, no further decisions were required and I found myself, at just 18 years of age, a Temporary Probationary Midshipman - the lowest form of animal life.

After a hectic and scarcely sufficient basic training at Hove, Chatham and Greenwich, I was overjoyed and proud to be appointed to one of the best known battleships, HMS WARSPITE. Simple, wonder where she is, do I catch a train, ask for a lift? Not quite so simple - she is in Seattle, Washington, the other side of America, being patched up after being damaged during the battle for Crete.

On a cold, dreary day, Will Hendry, (another Midshipman and one who was to become a great friend) and I, found ourselves standing on the deck of an old 8 knot rusty freighter SS PORT SYDNEY bound for Halifax, Canada. Two days later with a feeling of depression greater than that which had brought the violent gale, we woke at dawn to find a steely grey mountainous sea with absolutely no sign of the other 23 ships of the convoy of which we had been one. Very few slow merchant ships sailing alone succeeded in escaping the roaming wolf packs of submarines and we did not talk much during the rest of the journey. Heard later that the poor old PORT SYDNEY lasted two more trips. How many of the crew I got to know so well disappeared with her?

Land at last but, being only Midshipmen, noone thought to tell us that this was not Halifax but Baltimore, the freighter having been diverted in mid passage. A quick look at the map will show that to get to eastern Canada from Baltimore one has to pass through New York. So, two days later, there we were in full naval uniform in a friendly country but not yet in the war and with an apparant endless bevy of young females agog to show us the sights. Oh yes and it was New Years' eve. Of course we did not realise until much later but two things slightly marred this idyllic four days. Firstly we were going to be late joining our first ship. Secondly some kind soul sent my dear Mother a copy of Life magazine in which there was a long article on the British at war in USA and where there were pictures of self standing on the bar of The Astor hotel singing 'She had to go and lose it at The Astor, it was the only one she ever had'.... And a young Midshipman, coat undone and cap off leading a Conga round Times Square. I trust I have never been one to complain about the antics of modern youth.

All good things come to an end or nearly so and at last we were onboard the train to take one of the most beautiful journeys to be had, the 4 day trip through the Winnipeg Plains and the Rocky mountains - Montreal to Vancouver. All this at the expense of His Majesty.

Hardly a surprise but on arrival we were informed that the great ship had left Seattle and was now somewhere in Qualicum Sound not far from Vancouver, doing her post refit trials. The Duke of Sutherland's ex yacht SANS SPUR, had been requisitioned as a small indoor patrol craft and off we went. In a driving snow storm and with virtually no visibility, an enormous hulk emerged out of the gloom, stopped, lowered a ladder to allow two small sheepish young men to climb aboard. One small part of our basic training had impressed on us the custom of saluting the quarterdeck at such a moment. This we did - rather pleased to be met by someone with gold braid reaching to everywhere- only to be brought back to earth with the words shouted at us YOU ARE LATE. And so began my long and affectionate love affair with this dear old lady.

Finally trials were finished and off we set to join the harsh realities of the war but,presumably because we were in those waters already, to join the Japanese and not the European theatre.
After 62 days at sea but with brief stops on the way, we finally crept our way into Trincomalee(Ceylon in those days). The Japanese had already sunk the battleships PRINCE OF WALES and REPULSE and the heavy cruisers DORSETSHIRE and CORNWALL and clearly we would now be a further juicy target. With limited air cover available discretion was the better part of valour and our base for operations retreated first to Addu Atoll in the Maldive islands and then further back still to Mombasa in Kenya. One of our saddest moments was the 'capture' of Madagascar. This took the form of firing a warning 15" shell on to the beach at Tamatave killing, we heard later, the small daughter of the local Doctor who had run down to the beach to see the ships. War-Ugh.

By now it was well into 1943 and preparations were well in train for the landings in North Africa, Sicily and then Italy. Clearly as much fire power as possible was required for all this and WARSPITE now found herself proceeding through the Straits of Gibraltar en route for Malta.

Our first assignment was to cover the landings at Palermo which, apart from a few air attacks passed off fairly peacefully. But this was to be the end of complacency and the first major landing on the continent of Europe began. Within a few days all was clearly not well. The Germans were far better prepared than had been thought and it was only a question of time before our troops on the beaches were to be defeated.
The very last thing you wish to do is to bring a 35,000 ton warship into a bay, with little room to manoeuvre and only a mile off the beach but this is where we found ourselves, firing our 15" guns over open sights at the German tanks on the beach - carnage.

In addition to the main armament of 15" guns, a battleship has an array of smaller anti aircraft 4" guns for defence against aircraft. These are controlled from an HA director high up on either side of the bridge and which fit like a stalk of a plant into a sleeve. By this time I had left the lowliest of ranks and was now a fully fledged Sub Lieutenant. My action station was to be in command of this port director with a friendly crew of three others.
As can be imagined, our life off the beaches was a busy one and we had became used to and a bit blase about Heinkels and Dorniers so when three appeared above us and bombs fell out of them, we were not too concerned as clearly they were going to miss. However, just in case, I kept my eyes on them and watched with horror as the bombs changed direction and headed for us. With a resounding crump one landed alongside the funnel, twenty or so feet away from my eyrie, one near the armour bulge at the waterline below me and the third missed astern.My little director swayed like a daffodil in the breeze but managed, somehow, to stay inside the stalk. This was the first use of the new German radio controlled bomb and with hits on one battleship(WARSPITE) and one cruiser(UGANDA) the Germans must have been well pleased with the result.

Unfortunately the direct hit amidships penetrated to the lower decks and within seconds WARSPITE was a hulk without power- electric or steam. Realising that without power, my director was useless, I made my way down to the quarterdeck, laid my shoes neatly and prepared to jump. What seemed an age later, I retrieved(sheepeshly) my shoes and decided all was not quite lost.

The obvious need was to get this useless hulk out of the way and the cruiser EURYALUS and one other took us in tow and we headed, very slowly, back to Malta. The whirlpools, Scylla and Charibdys,situated in the Straits of Messina, were not having this. The tow parted and the vessel, now nearer 40.000 tons with all the water aboard, gently gyrated southwards.
After what seemed like weeks but, I suppose was a few days, we finally made our way into Grand Harbour.

By this time(September 1943) poor Malta was in a sorry state and with a great deal of the place flattened and this included the dockyard. This, together with the now great weight of the ship, disallowed her docking at Malta.
Eventually four enormous tugs were summoned and we began one of the longest, heaviest tows of the war to Gibraltar. Of course our final despatch would have been an enormous prize to the enemy and I think we all doubted our capability to get to our destination. But obviously the Germans were more than busy with the landings on the mainland and, to our surprise, we were left alone and in due course slipped between the two moles in Gibraltar harbour. At last we could relax.

The draining of the dry dock produced two spectacles. The first, sickening as the remains of the poor souls who had been caught below, emerged. The second was the enormous hole blasted out of the bottom of the ship.

The decision was made to place a large metal patch across the hole and although WARSPITE would not be capable of fighting as a battleship, she might be able to be used as a 15" gun platform at the Normandy landings which were being readied. But was she? Would the enormous recoil of the guns finally break her back? Only one way to find out and we duly sailed with one young Engineer Officer sitting on the plate at the bottom of the ship to see if he would be thrown into the sea. A very, brave man whose action was rewarded.

By this time it was realised that the poor old girl would have to return to the UK as merely one of the ships in a convoy. Over 1200 souls were not required to do this and a very depleted ships company remained. For me this was an opportunity of a lifetime with the responsibility of being soul Officer Of The Watch and manouvering this ship on a convoy zigzag. Not normally experienced by a young Sub Lieutenant.

In May 1944 I finally bade goodbye to this gracious lady. For the first two and a half years of my apprenticeship life, I had been taught and trained by my fellowmen. I had spent virtually every one of the 880 nights onboard. I had been thousands of miles from my home; had learnt how to dine with a Governor and to eat standing up; had censored letters of men twice my age and who I knew well; had known fear and excitement. WARSPITE was my Mother and my Father - she was a wonderful old lady.

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