大象传媒

This story has been submitted to the People鈥檚 War website by Jenny Graham on behalf of Percival Smith and has been added to the site with his permission.

I was nineteen years old when I joined the Merchant Navy. I went to Southampton and shortly after made my first trip across the Atlantic to Canada. I will always remember that journey; the excitement, the fear, but most importantly, the lesson it has taught me to appreciate how lucky I have been throughout my life.

The convoy for our first trip comprised of thirty eight ships, a magnificent and awesome fleet that seemed powerful and indestructible to me, especially as a young boy. But out of thirty eight, seven of our fleet were sunk in just one night. It was terrifying, we were somewhere in the Mid Atlantic and our orders were not to wait or to pick up survivors. We were just to sail straight on to Canada leaving our men in the water to drown. The memory of my fellow sea men drowning with no help, or even an attempt to help will haunt me forever.

From Canada we returned to Liverpool where we joined another ship heading for Mimansk in Russia. This journey was much the same; we were under constant attack, if it wasn't from the surrounding waters, we were attainable targets from the Luftwaffe above. Many more ships were sunk and again our orders were the same: sail on regardless. Every night I would pray that it wouldn't be me or the ship that I was sailing on.

Nevertheless, we made it back safely and were sent to Tillbury to join another ship awaiting our arrival at Tillbury docks. We arrived at night and were due to board the ship the following morning in order to be ready to set sail as soon as possible. During the night, however, the Germans bombed the entire dock. It was pretty much devastated and our ship had been sunk - unbelievably though, without me or anyone else on it. Again, I could not believe my luck.

Soon after, I was sent to Cardiff. Arriving at night and anticipating the start of a long journey the following morning and a long while at sea, myself and a few of the boys went ashore for a few beers. We headed to the nearest local pub and whilst we were enjoying our pints, the RAF sirens sounded. We stayed put, there was nothing else we could do except wait for the all clear signal to get back to the barracks. It wasn't until the morning that we learnt that the very ship that we were due to sail on had been sunk in the bombing. Somehow, I had survived again.

I was in Aidan when victory in Europe was announced and we were told that we were not going home but instead, on to Burma. We joined up to form part of a large flotilla in Trinkhomalee which was heading for Burma at the time. It was during this trip, whilst we were at high seas that we were told that the Americans had Bombed Hiroshima and Havasaki. We simply couldn't believe it. We'd never heard of a bomb that had killed 55,000 people before. It was unimaginable. But the war was over and since it was, we sailed all over the world. It wasn't until September of 1946 that we were actually paid off in Singapore. We were only contracted sailors, so the Merchant Navy stopped the contract and I ended up being stuck there for three months until I could get home.

The war taught me that everybody talks of freedom, but freedom is not free. You have to fight for it and you have to die for it in order to gain it. But would I do it for my country again? The answer would always be, "Yes."

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