大象传媒

CONTINUED

AW HOWORTH 鈥� 鈥淪ONNY鈥�(G4LNE)

鈥淗OSTILITIES ONLY鈥�

PART 3 of 5

The countryside was interesting again and I spent a lot of time during the day in the observation car. All too soon we arrived Vancouver, British Columbia. Our trip had taken 10 days instead of the usual 7 days because of the winter weather and the mishap. We didn鈥檛 mind, the usual saying was "more days, more dollars"

A Leading seaman met us with a lorry to put our kit and hammocks on to, and then took us down to the ferry terminal to board a ship for Victoria on Vancouver Island. We were disappointed at not seeing Vancouver, but the trip to the island made up for it. On the train the food was good, but on the ship it was fantastic. Our time was spent viewing the scenery and gorging.

We didn鈥檛 get chance to settle in Victoria, they shipped us off to the 鈥楻oyal Canadian Naval Base, Esquimalt鈥�. It seemed to take over the tip of the island, certainly a bigger base than I had seen in the U.K. So it was back to the old routine of inspections and drills, the difference was that we were in a new country with a different culture. It wasn鈥檛 too long before we felt as if we had been in Canada all our lives.

They were very keen on sports. I tried basketball, and found it very exhausting, within minutes I was dripping sweat. I was roped into a boxing tournament and somehow managed to win, obviously the other fellow had less experience than me. We tried our hand at being lumberjacks, eventually managing to do with brute force what the Canadians did with speed and skill.

Somebody decided that we needed a break, so we were sent to various parts of the Island, four of us finished up at the Oak Bay Hotel. An old world place run by two old ladies originally from England. They made us very welcome with lots of good food, trips to the beach, and although it was only February the weather was more like our summer. Other guests invited us to their rooms to listen to our experiences and help ourselves to their whisky. The seven days flew by.

All too soon our orders came to report to a new ship in Vancouver. The Canadians had started building '鈥橣ort Ships鈥� which were the equivalent of the American 'Liberty Ships' that were being built in America. Instead of riveting the plates they were welded, which turned them out faster and so helped the war effort. Of course everyone had their doubts about them being safe, but only time would tell. The shore gangs still had jobs to finish off, so it gave us chance to visit Vancouver. It was a big clean city with plenty of entertainment. The only problem was that you couldn't get a drink at night-time. To get round it you asked a taxi driver to take you to an illegal drinking place. We spent some happy hours sampling the delights of Vancouver.

One day we visited New Westminster, a logging town about 12 miles from Vancouver. A visit to one of the local factories showed us how paper was made and all the by products, wrapping paper, toilet rolls, and giggles from the young girls working there, sanitary towels and lots of other things that we'd never imagined came from wood.

As soon as the ship was ready we sailed over to Vancouver Island to pick up a cargo of lumber. 鈥楶ort Alberni鈥� was at the head of a river about 100 miles North of Victoria. The main industry was lumber. A big wide street met you as you left the docks. Shops on either side had everything you could wish for, I bought a few souvenirs and mementoes. It was a nice change to visit the drug stores and stuff ourselves with apple pie and cream.

One day a customer in the drug store invited us to his house, he was called Steve Solvason, originally from Iceland, but was now settled in Canada. I was intrigued with his central heating system, I hadn't seen many in England, you had to be reasonably well off to be able to afford it. This was fuelled with sawdust, which made sense, as it was all over the place. A big hopper was fed with a bag or so a day, and it gave off tremendous heat. That night between us we emptied a bottle of gin. It was a good thing we had only to go down the hill to get back to the ship. We didn't need rocking to sleep that night.

The church at the top of the street reminded me of the Alpine ones you saw in the travelogues. Every weekend they held socials and dances and I had my first introduction to country dancing. I found I was quite good at it after a few drinks. All the while we were enjoying ourselves the cargo was being loaded. Timber seemed to be everywhere, all the holds were full and we even had some lashed on top of the hatches. The crew seemed happy about it, saying that if we were torpedoed we stood a good chance of staying afloat.

Eventually the day of departure arrived. It was nice to be going home, but sad to leave all the friends that we had made. On the way down the river we heard that, according to the 鈥榞alley wireless鈥� we were calling in Seattle to pick up more cargo, no one could imagine where we were going to put it, all the holds were full and timber on the decks. We soon found out. They lashed tanks and aircraft in crates on top of the timber, every bit of space was used.

The trip to Panama was fascinating, dolphins seemed to be with us all the way, flying fish landed on board, and the occasional whale sounded nearby. It was interesting as we went down the coast, picking out the various places that we had only read about and seen on the films. Especially San Francisco and Los Angeles, then past the Central American countries to arrive at Baliboa in Panama.

Almost immediately we were in the locks, the water rushed in, lifting the ship like a toy. It was like climbing stairs; I believe we had to climb 50feet, because of the difference in height between the Pacific and the lake. Big engines on rails pulled us in and out of the locks. A bit different from the horses I'd seen pulling boats on the local canals.

The journey through the lake was interesting. In parts the jungle seemed to be on top of the ship, and then you'd be in a stretch of water with yachts flying about. You saw snakes in the water, alligators sliding in and out and birds in the trees that I'd only seen in the zoo.

All too soon we were in Christabello getting ready for the trip North. It didn't take long to get to Haiti where we anchored while the Captain went ashore. We enjoyed ourselves swimming in the clear water, a little bit wary of all the exotic tropical fish, did a bit of fishing and watched the pelicans making a much better job of it.

A convoy soon formed to go through the Caribbean, and although we were in the Gulf Stream the weather was decidedly cooler as we went up the East coast of America. According to the 鈥榞alley wireless鈥� again, we had to call in New York to refuel and take on stores. Everyone was looking forward to it. The New York skyline was every bit as interesting as I had imagined, and soon we were alongside the Statue of Liberty before going to a berth up the Hudson river.

As usual I had cut most of the crew's hair, even though I had only scissors now. The first thing I did on going ashore was to visit the barbers. It was a shock being asked to pay a dollar for just a trim. The most I had paid in the UK was sixpence. God only knows how much it would have cost if I'd had the wash, a blow, hair cream and all the other things they wanted to do.

When the stores came on board the gun crews volunteered to help, which should have told somebody something. The crew managed to stash in the quarters some lovely white Angel Cake, and all sorts of other goodies. A mistake was made when a box of apples was taken, it seems they belonged to the Captain who was taking them home. He raised "Merry Hell" so they were found again. Still, it raised morale, and was worth the effort the crew had put in.

The American Coast Guards put men on board in harbour for security. One day I was cleaning a gun with old bunting (flags), and the Coast Guard snatched it from me, saying 'you god damned cock sucking limey, what are you doing using the Stars and Stripes' and marched off to the Captain. I had to take a bit of a telling off but he laughed while he was doing it. A patriotic lot - the Yanks!

All too soon we were at sea again en route for Halifax. Anchoring in Saint Margaret's Bay, the ship was got ready for the trip to the UK, Captain ashore as usual to get our orders, while we managed to get a bit of swimming and fishing in.

Forty odd ships formed this convoy, with more escorts than we had seen before, which made the crew think we were in for a rough time. The air cover was good too. Our station was on an inside lane which promised to be safer than the outward bound trip, although I don't think any of us were happy at the prospects of crossing the Atlantic again, but the thoughts of home kept us going.

On another of the 鈥楩ort Ships鈥� alongside us was one of my mates nicknamed "Tex" although he came from London. We even managed a wave now and again. It came hard settling into the routine of cold dreary weather in the North Atlantic, not very pleasant after the Pacific and the Caribbean. The escorts buzzed around making us feel like chicks being rounded up by mother hen.

A few days out and the depth charging started, reminding us that the war was still with us. We could only hope they were false alarms. No such luck. The first ship to go was the one "Tex" was on. They were carrying munitions. It was during the 12 to 4 morning watch. Without warning a torpedo hit the 鈥楩ort Ship鈥� on our port beam, one minute she was there and then with an almighty explosion she had disappeared. Before we had time to get over the shock the blast hit us; we seemed to go over on our beam-ends, then all hell broke loose. Obviously the U-boat was in the middle of the convoy, some of the merchant seamen saw her and started firing, which was very dangerous for lots of us. The order was given to cease fire and the escorts took over, chasing up and down the lanes, dropping depth charges while we tried to get clear. Gradually things quietened down, but not for long. A tanker was hit in an outside lane, flames shot up, men jumped overboard and everyone felt helpless, but we had to keep moving. A lull and then when you thought it was over for the night, another ship would go. A timber ship was hit; we seemed to be sailing through wood for ages and no sign of the ship. So much for us being safe with a timber cargo!

During the day things seemed to be under control and it was reasonably quiet, but no one could relax. Nighttime wasn't something we looked forward to. The same thing happened for four nights, wondering all the time if you would be next. Another tanker was hit amidships and she broke in two. Fortunately, she didn't explode and the break must have been near sound bulkheads because both sections kept afloat. The stern section started moving astern under her own steam and was travelling as fast as the rest of the convoy. An escort stayed with her, and we heard later that the bow section was taken in tow and eventually made port. Escorts from the UK took over and Sunderland flying boats circled the convoy, as one left, another took over. They even stayed well into the night and dropped depths charges, so they must have made radar contact. As if by magic it went quiet. All the ships crew managed to get some sleep, it's surprising how long you manage without sleep when you have to!

The next day our Captain took advantage of the quiet conditions to bury a stoker who had died. I hadn't seen too many funerals in my time and it was very moving if a bit scary. He was sewn in canvas and you can imagine where the crew said they placed the last stitch to make sure he wasn't alive. A Union Jack was put over him as he lay on a board resting on the rails while the ships engine stopped. The Captain read a short service; the board was tipped so that he slid into the sea. It made me sad to see that the Union Jack was kept on the ship.

As we neared the UK, the crew started to get what they called the 'channels', a feeling of excitement at the thought of going home. I must say that I had them too. Our port of arrival was Liverpool, and we were told that of the 40 odd ships to leave Halifax only 26 arrived in the UK. The same day the Naval Authorities sent us down to Chatham for us to be granted leave. It seemed that because we were survivors of the outward-bound convoy we had to report to our depot to get survivor's leave. Immediately we were sent on 28 days, which fitted in very nicely with my situation as I was coming home to get married.

Evelyn had bought a special licence, enabling us to get married as soon as I arrived. So within three days, my bachelor days were over and we had the week of a lifetime in Blackpool. Some of my shipmates said it was 'out of the frying pan - into the fire'.

The 28 days flew by. I had to report back on a Friday and realising that nothing would be done over the weekend, decided to send a telegram requesting a 48hour extension, and to my surprise it was granted. On our last day Evelyn and I spent the day with my parents before catching the train for Manchester. It was hard to be leaving. The journey took most of the night and I reported at Chatham depot before 9am. Because we had been on Merchant ships and the depot was used to dealing with men from Naval ships, no one knew what to do with us. A Petty Officer eventually took charge of us and told us to keep out of the way as much as possible, and if we had to wander around, have a piece of paper in our hand and say that we were looking for the Regulating Office. He taught us lots of tricks for dodging, and reminded us of the old Naval saying "its not what you do that matters its what you get caught doing".

Most nights we got shore leave and enjoyed the odd trip into London. A lot of the time was also spent in the local bars and eating houses as usual.

Our draft came about 10 days later; the destination was 鈥楬MS Chrysanthemum鈥� at the Embankment on the Thames. She was being used to house and feed the DEMS ratings while they had gunnery classes on 鈥楬MS President鈥� moored about 100 yards away. Every morning we marched over and spent most of the time learning all the latest about weapons and ammunitions that may be on any of the ships we could be sent to.

One warm day during a lecture on aircraft recognition someone dropped an oil drum on the deck above. It sounded like an explosion. I must have dozed off. I found myself on deck without a clue as to how I had got there. Sheepishly I went back to the classroom to roars of laughter from my mates. The Petty Officer joined in and said " it鈥檚 good to see how sharp your reactions are, they might save life one day, but please try to stay awake in future? Or some words to that effect!

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