大象传媒

The training barracks in Gosport was to some an intimidating place. The first day was spent getting uniforms, service number: that all-important string of digits never to be forgotten, and repeated every payday, 鈥� Cap off! PMX634892 Sir鈥� and generally getting sorted out.

On retiring and lights out, I was surprised to hear young men, never before away from home, crying themselves to sleep. For me a disturbing sound, remembering my first nights at boarding school and I took some time in the dead of night trying to give them some comfort and confidence.

The square bashing, the endless marching up and down the parade ground, being bawled at by an instructor, was no problem. My army cadet training at school stood me in good stead and came swimming instruction time I decided that I was a non-swimmer and needed lessons. I was in fact a strong swimmer and accustomed to cold wet purgatory, but yes, swimming was better than square bashing. Came the final lesson and passing out parade, I was classified the most improved rating in the class, with an excellent learning achievement.

From Gosport training routines; guard duty during the night getting used to 鈥渙n board ship鈥� hours and staying awake, with the threat of 鈥� death if caught asleep鈥� emphasised by the instructors, metaphorically speaking of course鈥 hoped!

I was posted to the shore based electrical school at HMS Vernon in Portsmouth. I learnt more about electricity in the 8 weeks here than I had in the previous two and a half years as an apprentice. I was given the rank of 鈥淲ireman鈥�, seven days home leave, then told to report back to HMS Victory (no, not Nelson鈥檚 old ship) the barracks in Portsmouth. Here I saw, for the first time in my life, homosexuals, in a group, lots of them! They had been conscripted by age to active service like the rest of us and called into the Royal Navy. The accommodation as on board navy ships, consisted of 鈥渕ess鈥� decks; tables seating about 30 men. There was row upon row of them with provision to sling individual hammocks. At the far end of the mess deck,I noticed two tables different from the rest. These had table cloths, flowers and properly laid out cutlery. I said to a colleague 鈥淲hat鈥檚 going on down there?鈥� He explained the homosexual facts of life by telling me in Naval parlance about the 鈥済olden rivet鈥�, and said 鈥淒on鈥檛 get involved with that bunch of queers鈥�. Attitudes were different then and the Navy obviously felt that these men were best kept together ashore until the end of the war. I must say that never once during my time in the service was I ever aware of being approached by another matelot with sex in mind. (Matelot is the French word for sailor, and was used extensively as a slang word for Naval personnel during the war).

The next posting came just two days after my arrival in the barracks and I found myself heading on the train to Liverpool to board the troopship SS Strathmore, the pre war cruise liner.
I鈥檇 had some misgivings about seasickness, but this ship was so big it could never roll, certainly until well clear of port. It was not until we were a few days out that I learnt of our destination, Malta. It rolled and pitched. God how it tossed about.

We were headed due West and my geography told me that we should by now be heading due South.
Not to be: we were soon in convoy headed what seemed to me to be all over the place and eventually, after numerous alerts and depth charges going off, the fantastic sight if our destroyer escorts rolling like demented corks, we ourselves, rolling and pitching with waves breaking over the bows. After about 12 days, we were sailing through the Straits of Gibraltar into the calm blue Mediterranean. How enchanting the warm sweet sea air never before experienced and dolphins riding our fluorescent bow wave. Is there really a war on?

We continued eastward with warnings of enemy action in the form of radio-controlled bombs and enemy submarines, and eventually entered the bomb battered Grand Harbour in Malta. If memory serves me well some 15 days out of Liverpool. What now I wondered. At least I hadn鈥檛 been sick.

Waiting; having a few drinks down the 鈥淕ut鈥�(Straight Street) in capital Valetta; waiting; more drinks; rescuing my drinking partner from the cellar of a bombed house into which he had fallen. He was too far down for me to reach him to pull him out. Only one thing for it. Off with my bell bottom trousers, lower them down to him and haul him out. Then a couple of days in the sick bay with suspected sand fly fever, (it wasn鈥檛)and at last ,a posting. A motor fishing vessel was leaving for Algiers and I was to report immediately. This was some trip! A crew of less than a dozen with me, a passenger, a few days out, terrible seas, off the island of Pantellaria at sundown steaming all night still off Pantellaria at dawn. The 鈥渉eads鈥� (latrines) were right up for鈥檇. Have you ever tried having a pee, doing a six-second roller coaster up and down 20ft waves? I wasn鈥檛 sea sick but very pleased to arrive in Algiers where we were billeted in the Lycee (school) close to the Place Emir Abdel Kadder in town, just a short walk from the dockyard where I was to report at 7o鈥檆lock next morning.

The walk under the shopping arcade and across this town square with the statue of a man on a horse, and down to the dockyard workshops took about ten minutes, pestered most days by Arab youths for some of our pretty meagre rations. My work was challenging and interesting, repairing and charging batteries, small and very large, servicing electric motors, often rewinding field coils and armatures, again both small through to enormous. The long serving Chief Petty Officer was a man of great knowledge and more importantly to me, the young one, very compassionate and almost fatherly.

A group of us went up to Surcouf, a beach West of Algiers. It was my first experience of going through a swarm of locusts. These huge grasshopper like creatures, millions of them battering the bus windscreen. On another trip to this beach; it hadn鈥檛 been long since some of the North Africa troop landings had taken place here; I was sitting with my hands behind my back digging into the sand when I became aware of what was obviously a hand grenade. We all moved, very, very quickly to a safe distance. After some minutes we all slowly crept back to have a close look. The pin had not been removed. No Bang.!

One morning I was instructed to go to the Commander in Chief鈥檚 office to wire up some bells in his office. After about a month, I was summoned back to his office to rectify a fault. 鈥漌hen I press this button my secretary arrives. Fine. When I press this button my Royal Marine sentry appears. Fine. Now, when I press this one". He demonstrated and there was complete pandemonium. Dozens of navy personnel appeared with all speed. 鈥淔ix it young man鈥� At least he had a sense of humour. A simple fault fixed in minutes, but had me walking in fear and trepidation.

Algiers had an outbreak of some sort; Bubonic plague I think it was, the one that devastated London in 1665 and was sorted out by the Great Fire of London. We were unlikely to have a fire of those dimensions in this city, but we were all inoculated, and the most uncomfortable one I had ever experienced. I felt like death for days, heavy limbs like lead, but certainly not excused duties.

Here, in my spare time, I was able to start playing trumpet again and playing in a group for officers mess dances. ENSA, the wartime entertainment group that travelled war zones entertaining troops, arrived on one occasion with one of my trumpet playing idols Nat Gonella. It was some thrill for this young man to hear him perform.

The 22nd of November, 1944, 11 months since my arrival here at HMS Hannibal, as this base was called, the time came for me to be posted back home to HMS Vernon thence to the pre war girls college Roedean at Brighton. All the girls had departed, but some of the signs remained much to the amusement of we matelots."If you need Matron, Call鈥�. Roedean had been taken over by the Navy to be used as an electrical training school The comfort enjoyed, after the bunks with the feet in tins of paraffin to deter the bed bugs in Algiers, was much appreciated.

The electrical course on gyrocompass, ship鈥檚 telephones, gun-firing circuits, instrument repeater circuits, certainly did wonders for my ability and general confidence. There is no doubt that forces training is far better than one can get in civilian life proved yet again.
Back to barracks in Portsmouth, now promoted to Leading Wireman, and the wait for my next adventure. It came in the form of a few days work on the battleship HMS Nelson. Thank God it was not to last any more than a few days. Life on a large battleship reminded me too much of boarding school. Made a few telephone repair errors(?) such that those officers picking up a demanding phone, got a deafening blast in the ear. I was sent back to requalify ! I received my next posting I knew not where, other than I was to catch a troop train to Liverpool.

Another troopship, this time to Canada, where I was to commission Landing Ship Tank LST 3524 being built at Levis on the opposite side of the St. Lawrence to Quebec City. I was here for 11 months and had the time of my life. I was billeted in Canadian navy barracks doing nothing .I had my trumpet with me, and practising one day laying on my bunk, a loud authoritative voice boomed 鈥淲ho鈥檚 making that God awful noise up there鈥�? It turned out that the owner of the voice, a Canadian navy officer, had contacts in the city and I soon found myself playing with the local Al Bedard band. Regular gigs at the Salle de Variete in down town Quebec and others further afield. I was in heaven and earning money too the like of which I had never seen. Having been in Algiers for such a long time, my French was quite good and improved no end here. Both victory days, Europe and Japan were spent here. I could not have found a better place and people with which to end my war service. It had to end of course, and eleven months after my arrival, I boarded LST3524 headed down river to Boston and then on to Gibraltar. As we steamed past Quebec, a small launch came alongside to deliver a packet for 鈥淟addie Dibben鈥�. Al and the band had made a collection for me and presented me with an expensive Tissot watch. I wondered if I would ever see Francoise again. I received a letter from her ending 鈥渕ille lecs d鈥檃mour鈥� but she forgot to put her address on. I had lent my navy mate $40. 鈥淚鈥檒l pay you back鈥� I never heard from him again.

This shakedown cruise was fine. The flat-bottomed ship had a strange motion slipping and sliding down the Atlantic rollers. With all the dangers of U-boats and enemy action gone, a new ship with no more than a few teething problems, life was easy. Sailing merrily along on a fine sunny day with stern portholes open, a large Atlantic roller washed over the deck pouring gallons of water into the seamen's quarters. We had been well and truly "pooped" It was a rude awakening for those who had imbibed not only their own daily rum ration, but also the tots of others kindly donated. Gibraltar was good. Sailing in dhingies off Algeciras, a bit of shopping for the odd present made easier with the money from my trumpet playing in Canada, some hockey, a few drinks and then off again headed for the Clyde.

The trip back was pleasant enough, although in the middle of the Bay of Biscay I had an experience, which I never forgot. My 21st birthday occurred and with it an invitation for drinks in the officer鈥檚 mess. The ship was rolling about quite a lot, and Purser鈥檚 rum as served to the officers, was a good deal stronger than I had tasted before. After numerous tots, the last thing I remember about my birthday was trying to retrieve a cigarette end, which, in my efforts to deposit in an ashtray, had dropped between loose cushions. It appears that I was carried down to the gyro compass compartment which I had taken over as my personal sleeping quarters, and didn鈥檛 wake up until passing Ailsa Craig, that rock one sees when entering the Clyde into Scotland, some 800 miles or so. Some hangover. Never again! Neat navy rum (neaters) at that time was potent stuff especially for a near tea totaller! That declaration has never been broken to such an extent and in similar circumstances I have always looked for a pouring place other than my gullet.

Thinking back, my residence in the gyro compass room was made in the interest of trumpet practice. Chromatic scales arpeggios triple tonguing et al was not appreciated when transmitted up the voice pipe to the wheelhouse and the bridge, and an instruction to desist was soon received. My cure; five or six pairs of socks, clean ones, stuffed up the appropriate orifice. Practicing continued without further complaint.

Once at anchor in the Gairloch, along with a few dozen other LSTs, instructions were issued to put these vessels into a state of care and preservation. This became my occupation. After some monthsLST.3524 had been done, then a move to LST 3513. This was very frustrating since, as an " hostilities only鈥� member of the Royal Navy, my desire was demobilisation. Evenings ashore were spent having a couple of beers in Helensburgh or more interestingly, by train to Glasgow and a trip to Barrowland to listen to the Jock McGregor dance band. Very good it was too. I even had the chance to sit in a couple of times. Practising continued in the gyro room.

Demob papers began to come through but never mine. After a very frustrating 10 months, instructions to report to Portsmouth for release from the service came through and Civilian Street was now not far away. My 鈥淭o whom it may concern鈥� papers issued on my release, refer to me as 鈥� the backbone of the electrical party鈥� and I must assume that was the reason for the delay in my release. On the 16th August 1946,I was once again a civilian, dressed in my service issue civilian suit headed on the train to Ropley.

My war had been always interesting, occasionally very scary, certainly challenging. I had learnt more about electricity than I would have as a civilian apprentice. On occasions it had been dangerous from U boats and bombers. Remembering the time in Algiers when for some weeks the staple diet had consisted mainly of dried egg and gherkins, never again would I be fussy over food. Financially the war service had been disastrous. My Post Office Naval Savings book shows that from issue in 1944,I managed to save 拢22, which was my total worldly wealth. Training and experiences had taught me much about self-discipline, and how to accept the status quo without rancour. I had learnt much about the way to 鈥渕ake do and mend,鈥� of little practical use in this age of designed obsolescence producing products planned to fill the ever diminishing rubbish tips. Compared to tens of thousands of the armed forces personnel, I had been extremely lucky. It was over and a new life beckoned.

Extracted from autobiography 'Hold On', to be published 2006.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.