大象传媒

This is Peter Goss鈥� story: it has been added by Ralph Lines (on behalf of the Fernhurst Centre), with permission from the author who understands the terms and conditions of adding his story to the website.

When the war started I was fifteen and attending a local grammar school in North London. My father was in the RAF reserve and was not at home so my mother had to cope with two boys and the problems of rationing, possible invasion after Dunkirk and the Blitz. Families were invited to store empty glass jars and my mother had a hoard of these at the bottom of a cupboard. In the event of an invasion they were to be smashed on the road to puncture the German鈥檚 tyres. I have no doubt that my mother would have done it too!

When the sirens sounded during the daylight raids we would go down to the basement of the old school building. Those nearest to the entrance would be looking to the south east over London and watching the vapour trails twisting and turning. In the end half the school would be standing in the playground until the Headmaster would shoo us all back under cover.

The Blitz began and we took to sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. You didn鈥檛 go out at night except for the Air Raid Wardens who patrolled looking for lights. All the windows had blackouts and strips of paper gummed across them to prevent the glass from splintering if a bomb fell. In the suburbs we had nothing like the bombing which took place in the City, the docks and the East End. Most of the bombs that fell were dropped randomly by bombers who could not find their target or were on their way home. One 250 lb bomb demolished a house in the next street, another fell at the end of the road and another fell on a nearby church. One night we saw a red glare and recognised it as an incendiary. While I went to get the equipment my mother took a spade from the shed and shovelled earth on it where it was in danger of setting the fence on fire. I recovered the tail fin the next day and still have it.

I did not do very well at school failing my School Certificate although passing London Matriculation some six months later. I was not very bright and not very industrious being more interested in athletics. Although I was in the Air Training Corps and my father was in the RAF I decided to try for the Navy. I passed an interview for the notorious 鈥淵鈥� Scheme which guaranteed you entry into the RN when you were eighteen. Many people thought that you were earmarked for a commission but this was by no means the case and all it ensured was that you would be interviewed after your initial training.

I joined HMS Collingwood near Fareham in Hampshire on the 24th August 1942 as a New Entry to undergo my initial training. Of the class of thirty only about six of us were not ex policemen. As our instructor we had CPO Barnes a retired Chief called back for the War.
The Dieppe Raid took place during our training and many of the casualties came back to Haslar hospital in Gosport. Our Chief fell us all in and told us of the need for blood donors. We didn鈥檛 have to volunteer he told us and followed by saying, 鈥淎ll those who do not wish to volunteer one pace forward march.鈥� Naturally no one moved. When I had given my blood I was told to go to an adjacent ward and rest but crossing the corridor I found blood running down my fingers and dripping on to the floor. I pointed this out to the nurse who hastily re-bandaged me.

We did the usual basic training at Collingwood including rowing a cutter round Portsmouth harbour. There was plenty of drill and Divisions each morning was an impressive ceremony with full guard and band. Towards the end of training I had an interview before a selection board and was informed that I was now a CW candidate (CW standing for Commission and Warrant).

At the end of our training we moved to Portsmouth Barracks to await our draft to a ship. To keep us occupied we went on a week鈥檚 gunnery and drill course at Whale Island (HMS Excellent). 鈥榃haley鈥� had a reputation for discipline and I was impressed on seeing a class of Lieutenant Commanders under instruction being doubled around the parade ground by a Petty Officer instructor. Gun drill was carried out on six inch guns in batteries around the island. Both shells and cartridges were heavy and it could be back breaking work loading. If you forgot such detail as for example the weight of a cartridge the favourite ploy was for your instructor to say that sadly he had forgotten too but the instructor in the next gun battery some quarter of a mile away would be sure to know. You would set off only to be called back and told to take the cartridge with you followed by the bellow 鈥� 鈥淒ouble.鈥� You ended up doubling round the island carrying your cartridge only to find that the instructor had remembered the weight just after you left!

We marched to and from Whale Island each day and at night kept a four hour watch as sentry. My post was on the railway embankment between Portsmouth Town and Harbour stations. Wearing an ankle length black oilskin and a tin hat and armed with a Short Lee Enfield rifle but no ammunition I wondered what use I would be against invading paratroopers. After a week I was told with a number of others that I was drafted to HMS Argus an aircraft carrier. We left in charge of a Petty Officer and caught the night train from Euston from where I was able to call home. There were no seats available and we lay full length in the corridor. A cold I had picked up was gone by the morning. At Glasgow Central we were taken to a local YMCA for breakfast and then down to the Clyde where Argus was moored looking like a massive steel block of flats. I was allocated to 33 Mess with a cruising station as one of the port side look outs and an action station loading shells at the bottom of the ammunition hoist.

We sailed that day being part of a convoy for Gibraltar. I learnt the full horrors of seasickness for three or four days as we battled through an Atlantic gale. Argus rolled over so far in the seas that at times people wondered if she would actually recover. Off watch we would simply lie on the deck of the locker flat beneath the mess deck too weak even to sling a hammock and dreading the pipe over the tannoy, 鈥淎ll the red watch, red cruising watch close up,鈥� when we would climb up several decks to our look out positions either side of the flight deck. You sat in a swivel chair with binoculars on a bracket in front of you and maintained a constant 60 degree sweep going up 5 degrees each time to cover the sea to the horizon and then to the sky overhead. It was hard on the legs maintaining your position as the ship rolled but if you stopped you were soon shouted at by the Petty Officer of the watch. You alternated with another lookout for 30 minute stretches over a four hour watch.

We did two convoys to Gibraltar during the autumn and winter of 1942/43 with periods of deck landing training in the Clyde for new Fleet Air Arm pilots. During working hours the dozen or so CW candidates studied under the instructor officer using the parachute packing room under the flight deck as a classroom. You could hear the trainee pilots making their approach until there was a crash as they hit the deck. Sometimes there was the screech of tortured metal followed by splash and we knew he was over the side. A motor launch used to follow us to pick up the pilot if he could get out.

At night we would moor off Tail o鈥檛he Bank off Greenock to be supplied with stores water etc, by the local Scottish drifters and supply boats which would moor alongside. What some of the skippers failed to realise however was that several gash shutes for the disposal of rubbish ran down the ship鈥檚 side and ended a short distance above the water. If you listened at the top when the duty mess man or one of the cooks tipped a bucket of food leftovers down one of these shutes you could hear incomprehensible but violent Scottish oaths wafting their way up from below.

The gunnery CPO looked upon us CW candidates as manna from heaven as he was able to train us as a funeral party although our services as such were not required whilst I was on board. We learned various intricate rifle drills such as marching with arms reversed at the short and long trail which he delighted in. Drill on the flight deck was not too bad in harbour but occasionally he would grab us in our off duty hours at sea. If the ship was rolling doubling with a rifle seemed a bit hazardous as the lower end of the flight deck came closer. We also did drill on the ship鈥檚 four inch guns and taking my turn at No 2 or captain of the gun I received an order which I had no idea how to obey. I knew however that the one thing you must not do is dither or show ignorance so I did the only thing I could think of and slammed the breech shut. Big mistake, 鈥淵ou鈥檝e blown the bloody gun up,鈥� he said (fortunately we were using dummy ammunition), 鈥減ick up that cartridge and double around the flight deck until I tell you to stop.鈥� I completed four circuits under the Gibraltar sun before he called me down. I still don鈥檛 know what my mistake was.

Bathing could be a problem. The wash place was supplied with hot salt water for which we used salt water soap. There were no showers but there were a number of loose aluminium tubs in which one man could just sit cross legged with soap and flannel on the tiled floor beside him. There were no problems in calm weather but if the ship was rolling all the tubs began to slide to the lower side just like a bunch of dodgem cars. It was best to keep ones hands inside the tub. No sooner had you come to a stop against the lower bulkhead than the ship would roll back and you would begin your return journey. It was best not to be in line with the door where there was a coaming which if the door was open caused the tub to up end and spill its passenger across the passageway. The galley lay opposite.

My lookout efforts were uniformly without result except on one occasion. On our second convoy from the Clyde we were escorting troops for the North Africa landings. We ran into fog so although we were in the middle of the convoy we could see none of the other ships. Suddenly I noticed a small upright object about two hundred yards away moving through the water parallel with us. A periscope? It couldn鈥檛 be. Excitedly I shouted my report to our small temporary bridge which when we were not flying rose like a lift through the flight deck. Heads popped out but then relaxed and there were grins all round. It was the fog buoy being streamed astern by one of our troopships hidden in the fog.

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