大象传媒

The next 6 months were spent on convoy duty this time during rough winter weather conditions. The Atlantic was well called the 鈥淐ruel Sea鈥�. I always felt very sorry for the crews on the merchant ships, for if they were sunk they very rarely stood a chance of survival in the cold, bitter sea. As on the 鈥淐auldwell鈥� we never undressed at sea except for sea boots and heavy duffel coats. Thinking back, as we never used a deodorant we must have ponged a bit at the end of a 2 - 3 weeek trip ! Being Captain 鈥楧鈥� in charge we understandably often found ourselves at the forefront when any Subs. were in the vicinity as, of course, our Captain always had priority. The result was we participated in the majority of anti-submarine action and put out of action at least three German subs.

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H.M.S.Duckworth - Signalmen showing battleflag after sinking 3rd 鈥楿鈥� boat (5 sunk in total)

It was during one of these occasions we had a very sad experience. We were proceeding very slowly, trying to pin point the position of a suspected Sub. before making an attack, when a cry went up 鈥淢an Overboard鈥� ! A group of us were standing by the Starboard Depth charge thrower and looking down saw a young seaman struggling to get hold of one of the life lines that had been thrown down to him but, like the rest of us, he was wearing a heavy duffle coat, balaclava and sea boots against the very cold weather conditions, and we saw the poor lad, having failed to grasp even just one of the lines, disappear under the waves dragged down by his now heavy, waterlogged clothing. Although there was nothing we could have done it happened so quickly, and we were also so sure he would succeed in getting hold of at least one of the two or three lines near him, I felt with the rest of us a feeling of bitter helplessness and extreme sadnesss when it happened.
Also during that period we escorted a convoy to Murmansk, north Russia, and although we were issued with extra warm clothing, we still found it bitterly cold on the upper deck and quickly learned to keep our hands clear of metal surfaces otherwise your skin stuck to it - freezing. Our main concern were the icebergs floating around especially at night and we had extra look-outs posted.
A few merchant ships were damaged but we managed to get them there without loss and only stayed a few days before escorting a smaller convoy back to Belfast.
In between trips I was able to get home for approximately 7 day periods every time we had a 10 day boiler clean and always took home 鈥榞oodies鈥� for the family as there was very little rationing in Belfast.
Our favourite pub was 鈥淜ing George V鈥� which served a lovely creamy porter you could almost eat, then on to a nice restaurant to enjoy a T bone steak and all the trimmings, before 鈥榯ripping the light fantastic鈥� at the local Ulster Dance Hall. Whilst there I made friends with a Wren whose family were Catholic and who kindly invited me to share meals with them. Her father and brothers also took me to their men only club one evening - and yes - I did feel rather frail the next morning !
On returning from a trip the end of May, 1944, we were told to store up quickly, leaving after a few days when the Captain told us we were en route to Devenport to assist in the imminent 鈥楧鈥� Day landing by our forces already assembled at various ports along the coast. As we sailed into Devenport I just happened to be on the upper deck, observing the various other ships that had already arrived, when to my utmost surprise there on the stern of one of the
Destroyers was the number U.682. So I hurried into my shore going suit and as soon as we had tied up alongside the quay, after having implied I was going ashore to check if there were any suitable stores available, I went straight to where the picket boats were operating from and very cheekily told a Wren in charge of one of them that I had permission to visit my brother. She said O.K. but could only give me half an hour (but naturally could not disbelieve a young, good looking Petty Officer could she !) So out we went and on boarding (still keeping my fingers crossed Bill was still on her) I told the same story and was taken down to his Mess where I found him fast asleep on his bunk. I had not seen him for almost 3 years but he had not changed very much. On being woken, he obviously thought he was dreaming, then realising he was not, sat up and said 鈥淲hat the bloody hell are you doing here and how did you manage it?鈥� We had a good laugh when I told him and over a cup of char arranged to meet with a few of our mates outside Devenport Dockyard that evening. Typical of Bill when we met he immediately took us to the local bus station, saying it was no use trying to get a drink in the centre of Devenport as they were all crowded out with American and Canadian servicemen, but he knew of a pub about 20 minutes bus ride away on the outskirts that was not busy called the Cherry Tree.
Although it was pretty busy, by having one of us up at the bar to order the next round we ensured a continuity of supplies and had a very enjoyable evening. I knew that one of our P.O.鈥檚 was staying ashore that night, so instead of returning to his ship with his mates, he was able to spend a little more time with me and stay the night. We said our rather bleary farewells very early the same morning before Bill caught the first boat back to his ship. I was not to see Bill again until after the war and looking back now on that event, the chances of us meeting under those circumstances were almost unbelievable.
Two days later on the 4th June, our flotilla left Devenport and took up position guarding the Western Approaches of the English Channel. We co-ordinated with another flotilla and patrolled the area between Lands End and Brest. 鈥淒鈥� Day commenced on the 6th June, and we continued our patrol for the next ten days until our forces were well established, experiencing very little trouble apart from scaring off a few German E boats (fast torpedo motor boats) and afterwards returned straight back to Belfast.
About mid-October we were sent on another convoy trip to Murmansk and quite a few of us were rather puzzled as the European war was now nearing its end and we could not see any reason for sending them any further armaments. After we left port the Captain informed us that on this occasion we would be escorting a 鈥渟pecial consignment鈥� very important to the Russians. What that was we never knew but ours was not to reason why - we got on with it. It was not until we were on our way that I realised that I would be having my 21st birthday during the trip. There were several customs in the Royal Navy and one of them, on special occasions like a married sailor receiving news his wife had given birth and birthdays etc., was to give the recipient a sip of your rum - called 鈥渟ippers鈥�. There were ten of us in the Chief and P.O.鈥檚 Mess and as on 5th November we were still two days out of Murmansk, I kept it to myself until we arrived on the 7th, then duly celebrated.
Generous 鈥渟ippers鈥� all round of course, including part of my own (we always kept some in reserve bottled in our lockers for such occasions) after which I am not quite sure what exactly happened after that - but I was seen going ashore (as was my wont, especially in a strange port to see if any stores were available I might be short of, I did not need permission to do so and it was usually to the benefit of the crew) and was seen giving a heavily armed guard on the quay a nice smile and a jaunty salute as I passed him. I then vaguely recall wandering around then upon hearing some music from one of the houses, calmly knocked on the door and was let in by a rather bemused Russian lady. I did not realise at the time that on the 7th November they celebrated Independence Day and all the residents were issued with a generous ration of Vodka and I just happened to pick that day. I was given a comfortable seat by a gramophone and given refreshment including what appeared to be a glass of lemonade - I soon found out it wasn鈥檛 ! After making myself useful playing the records for them I made my farewells to quite a tearful party, all rather well away by then, as I realised I had better return aboard whilst I was still able to walk. Just before I left the Russian lady gave me a diary as a momento and I still have it. We spent a few more days there during which time I did a bit of fishing off the focsle and caught some nice white fish of some sort which we enjoyed. An uneventful return to Belfast and approximately two more days later got home for Christmas.
On return I received a message to report to H.Q. where the Senior Officer in charge informed me that they had received instructions from H.Q. in Surrey that a list had been drawn up of those, at their discretion, they considered deserved early release and in view of my five and a quarter years service, served mainly at sea, I was in the first batch to be given the opportunity, especially now the European war was nearly over. It was most unexpected but I gratefully accepted the offer and after phoning home with the good news, picked up as many 鈥檊oodies鈥� as I could before saying farewell to my very envious Mess mates who gave me a good send off with 鈥淪ippers鈥�. The Captain kindly thanked me for 鈥渄oing a good job鈥� and especially keeping him supplied with his favourite Cadbury fruit and nut chocolate, which I always made sure I kept in a reserve supply for him. He was a very nice 鈥渇ruit and nut鈥� case.
So ended my war. Even to this day I wonder why I was spared - though most of us became fatalists. Was it worth it ? If you considered what would have happened if Germany and Japan had succeeded, then the answer must be an unequivocal yes.
As I now approach my 75th birthday I would like to think that along with all those who took part, our legacy is the peaceful freedom we enjoy today.

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