大象传媒

MY LIFE MY WAR

By
Bernard Hallas

Chapter 8b - A French Catastrophe (Cont.)

We were now free to patrol the Eastern end of the Island of Malta. Some of the smaller craft went into the 鈥淕rand Harbour鈥�, but the battleships stayed well out to sea. The Maltese people were having a rough time as it was without capital ships entering their harbour and inviting enemy bombers to come in and have a go.

Every bomb that missed the fleet would probably hit Valletta, the capital city of the island. The Maltese people no doubt missed the money that usually passed over the counters of the sleazy bars in 鈥淭he Gut鈥�, the services name for that particular area where 鈥淭he ladies of the night鈥� plied there trade, but this was compensated by the supplies that we took to the island. They would also miss the food that was thrown down the rubbish chutes after the ships' companies had finished their main meals.

Stationing themselves on the rubbish barges alongside each ship, young boys and girls would catch the 鈥淪will鈥� as it arrived at the bottom of the chute and sort it out into empty 7 lb jam tins, potatoes in one, vegetables in another and so on. All this only served to emphasise the sorry state that the inhabitants of this brave island were in.

The days passed ever so slowly, The Italian Fleet obviously thought that discretion was better than valour, we did have a few half hearted attacks by high level bombers, they came over the Fleet, dropped their bombs wide of the mark and departed in the direction of Italy. If I have to be honest I can only say that life was a bit boring; our mail had to be carried the long way round via the Cape and through the Suez, and I would receive anything up to ten letters at a time, all numbered and to be read in their order.

Ruth, true to her nature, never mentioned the difficulties that the people at home were suffering, no doubt she did not want to pass her worries on to me but in every letter she expressed her love, and the wish that the war would soon be over and that we would be together once more. I was in full agreement. We carried out occasional sorties, fought off the odd air raid, escorted small convoys to Malta and life was becoming a little tedious. It was obvious that something had to happen sooner or later.

Early in July there were various meetings of the Top Brass on board and it was apparent that 鈥淪omething was up鈥�. But what! Cunningham was a crafty old devil. It would appear that Admiral Tovey, commanding the Cruiser squadron had been on a normal sweep in the vicinity of the coast off North Africa and had made contact with an unidentified Italian unit.

During one of the attacks on his unit, the Cruiser HMS Gloucester received a hit on the bridge and killed the Captain, six officers and eleven ratings. Cunningham immediately went in to support but the attacking aircraft had called it a day and left the scene of the action. The next day we changed course, It was reported that an Italian unit of two battleship, six Cruisers and possibly seven destroyers were leaving the vicinity of Benghazi and it was supposed that they were returning to the base at Taranto, we immediately changed course for the Italian coast. Cunningham ordered the Fleet Air Arm on board HMS Eagle to locate and report the enemy鈥檚 strength, and the information received was a little disturbing.

The Italians were only 150 miles away and their combined strength was two Battleships, sixteen Cruisers and thirty-two Destroyers. I suppose that Cunningham had weighed up the comparisons between the two Fleets. Two of our ships, HMS Malaya and HMS Royal Sovereign were really old ships that did not have the speed of the enemy ships, and the Italians had an advantage of more than 8,000 yards range on their smaller calibre guns.

Also HMS Eagle, Cunningham's only Air Craft carrier could only muster seventeen out dated Swordfish planes against an astronomical number of bombers that the Italians could call upon from the dozens of enemy airfields, all situated within a short distance. We were now off Calabria, Cunningham had achieved his original objective of cutting the enemy off from his home base and regardless of the Italian superiority was more than a little eager to engage.

Unfortunately he had to leave the two slower battleships behind and he would have to place himself and Warspite at risk. The horizon was now covered with the superstructures of countless enemy cruisers, and Warspite opened fire at more than twenty six thousand yards. The falling shots straddled the cruisers and they turned away, laying a smoke screen as they retired. Reluctantly we returned to harbour. Signals were coming in thick and fast; we were to cover the passage of two convoys from Malta to Alexandria.

One carrying stores the other evacuees. Our force was to be three battleships one aircraft carrier five cruisers and seventeen destroyers organised into three separate units. On the 7th of July we put to sea, We had only been at sea for a few hours when one of our patrolling submarines reported that the Italian Fleet were making their way towards the North African coast. We learned later that Cunningham suspected that they were covering a convoy of men and material to Libya and he decided to put his force between them and their base at Taranto.

On the 18th of July the Italian Air force members of Regia Aeronautica stationed on the Dodeconese Islands attacked the Fleet ferociously. In less than six hours they dropped more than one hundred and twenty bombs. At this time I had been closed up on P2 the port side Anti Aircraft Quick Firers and it was an awe-inspiring sight.

The attacking planes seemed to have a charmed life as they pressed home their attacks. Occasionally, one would be unlucky and from somewhere on board I could hear a faint cheer as he crashed into the sea. Although the Fleet sustained no damage or casualties, there were many near misses and we would be drenched as pillars of spray covered the superstructure. It was then that two enemy battleships appeared to take action against Warspite. At twenty six thousand yards the battleships opened fire.

The Giulio Cesare and the Conte-di-Cavour, the first named flying the flag of Admiral Riccardi fired the first salvo鈥檚 and with an unexpected accuracy the first salvo fell within one thousand yards, the nearest shell fell within four hundred yards and drenched the Warspite鈥檚 decks. By now Cunningham鈥檚 rangefinders had got the range and began their task of answering; it was to be a battle of Admirals Riccardi v Cunningham.

At twenty-six thousands yards the mighty turrets opened fire. It was the first time that I had been caught on watch on the 4鈥� AA guns when the Main armament opened fire and it was an awe inspiring experience. Without warning there was a thundering explosion followed by a searing blast of heat and a sound of an express train rushing overhead.

For a time we could see the base of the shells until they reached the highest point of their travel and then, losing their velocity, they hurtled end over end to their target. Matters were made worse in that being the gun captain, and having to listen to the communications number, it was not possible to wear the solid cone shaped earplugs issued at that time. After seven minutes and the thirteenth salvo, a tremendous explosion was observed on the Italian flagship, hitting spot on. The Warspite had once again proved her gunnery superiority. It was reported later that six of the enemy ships' boilers had been put out of action and over 20 men killed and 60 wounded.

Cunningham had won first round in the battle of the Admirals. The Italian fleet turned away from the action under cover of a smoke screen. During the remainder of the day there were frequent skirmishes between various units of both Fleets and the British units were constantly under air attack. The Warspite and the carrier H.M.S. Eagle were especially targeted. The light entertainment was provided by decoded signals from Admiral Riccardi telling the Italian Air Force that they were bombing the wrong ships.

By 1700 hrs we had made our way Northwards and avoided most of the smoke screen, we still remained at our action station as we were never too sure what was on the other side of the smoke, but a search of the area by ships and planes showed no sign of the Italian fleet, they had escaped and taken the damaged Battleship with them. That was always referred to as 鈥淭he Battle of Calabria鈥�. For a very long time, the Italians avoided going to sea, the accuracy of our gunnery had destroyed what little moral they had. Standing down from 鈥淎ction Stations鈥�, we were now on course for Malta. The destroyers who had been dashing here, there and everywhere, entered Grand Harbour To re-fuel, as usual we remained off the Island until they were completely replenished, after which they re-joined the Fleet. On the 11th of July we once again set sail for Alexandria.

On the return journey it would be quite possible that we could be attacked by Italian bombers based on the Dodeconese Islands as we had been previously. Consequently, we were nearer the Libyan coast and the danger was just as great. We should have gone via the Dodeconese. On the first day leaving Malta, between noon and 1800hrs we were constantly closed up at our AA stations, it was 鈥淎ircraft Red鈥� for the whole of the afternoon. In the course of five separate attacks more than 66 bombs were aimed at us. The attacks then eased off until the next day.

The following morning, immediately after breakfast, they swarmed in again. During the forenoon watch for more than three hours they attacked incessantly, seventeen separate attempts were made on Warspite, and over 160 bombs fell into the sea around her.

On one occasion a long 鈥淪tick鈥� of bombs鈥� came so close that we were completely deluged with water. Two-dozen bombs fell very close on the port side and another dozen fell just off the starboard side. As in the old saying 鈥淚 remember it well鈥�. At that particular time I was off duty, only the opposite watch was closed up in AA defence. About six or seven of us were watching the 鈥淪tick鈥� of bombs exploding off the port side and we were enjoying a mid morning mug of cocoa on the boat deck. Suddenly we realised that after the eighth or ninth bomb had exploded that it was an extra long 鈥淪tick鈥� and there may be a few more. Immediately there was a mad scramble through the bulkhead door and the nearest bomb exploded as we fell down the iron ladder in a jumbled heap.

I didn鈥檛 feel the impact; all I felt was a searing pain in the middle of my back and the warm blood sticking on my tropical shirt. I lay there as the bodies underneath forced their way from beneath me, and my particular buddy at that time staring down at me. If I had expected sympathy, I didn鈥檛 get it, 鈥淕et your fat A*** out of the way, and get me another cup of cocoa, mine鈥檚 all over your Bloody Shirt鈥�. I realised then that I was undamaged and among friends. The following day we reached our anchorage.

Two convoys were already there and they had arrived unscathed. The Italian Navy and Air Force had been too occupied with the Fleet. It was back to pleasure, for the last six months or so, I had been the proud owner of a beautiful light grey pin stripe suit, and paid a local hotel manager the princely sum of one hundred Piastres (one pound) to hang it in one of his wardrobes, along with another dare devil, one stoker Horton.

I say dare devil, because the wearing of civilian clothes was most definitely against orders. It did however have its advantages. Wearing it, you could take your date out in the evening and go into places like the sporting club at Ramleh where you could hold hands, drink and have the odd dance. To wear plain clothes was of course a necessity; the locals did not appreciate their young female nationals cavorting with British men in uniform.

On this particular occasion I had persuaded the lovely Tony to accompany me to, of course, the sporting club. Taking a seat at a table near to the cabaret, all was well until I saw the occupant of the next table. It couldn鈥檛 be, yes it was, my own executive officer, Commander Sir Charles Madden. A slight nod and nothing more and we were left to enjoy a pleasant evening.

The next morning I entered the Wardroom Mess as part of my duties and the first person I should meet, was of course, the Commander. 鈥淕ood morning Hallas鈥� said he, 鈥淕ood Morning Sir鈥�, I replied.鈥� 鈥淚 Would like you to know that the Sporting Club is my favourite 鈥榃atering Hole鈥�. please find somewhere else for your evening out,鈥� said he. 鈥淵es Sir,鈥� was all I could reply. As he turned away he said in an aside, 鈥淟ovely Girl鈥�.

I was worried for a time, but I should have known better, he never mentioned it again and no one was any the wiser. If he had informed the Major of marines, I would have been very severely reprimanded. But that was Sir Charles, an officer and a gentleman, small wonder that he attained the rank of a full Admiral.

Letters from Ruth were arriving every time the mail boat arrived, but as yet I had nothing to reprimand myself for, more by good luck than by management. The afternoons at the YWCA were a pleasant break from the traumas of cruising the waters between Alexandria and Malta. And from what Ruth told me in her letters both she and her friend Ada spent many a Saturday evening in the hot spots of Burnley, and had to walk home alone over the lonely moor road to Rawtenstall.

Alexandria was lovely while it lasted, but Cunningham was one of those Admirals with 鈥業tchy feet鈥�, in no time at all we were up anchor and away. This time it was to be a sea borne assault on the advancing Italian army. Only six miles from the Egyptian border and a mere 250 miles from Alexandria, the Italians were in a strong position, holding the Port of Bardia, which allowed them to be supplied by sea by sneak convoys. This then was to be Cunningham's next objective.

He had decided that the time was ripe for a concentrated bombardment on the Italian fortifications. To destroy their radio installations, their armour and supplies, but most important, to put so much effort into the attack that he would also destroy their moral. It was early morning on the 17th of August.

We would be the main force (Warspite) the two battleships, Malaya and Ramillies and the county class cruiser H.M.S. Kent. Our target was to be the ports of Bardia, Capuzzo and Ramleh, stockpiled with stores and mechanised transport.

The range of the three targets averaged between ten and fifteen thousand yards. The bombardment started at 0700 hrs and lasted less than half an hour. Warspite had fired sixty, fifteen-inch shells and forty-seven, six-inch shells. HMS Kent, the cruiser had fired ninety one, eight inch shells and the two battleships, Malaya and Ramilles had fired one hundred and twenty five, fifteen inch and two hundred and twenty seven, six inch shells.

The return fire was minimal and had no effect at all, a few four inch shells, falling over a thousand yards short. On the other hand however, the Italian air Force sent out a considerable force of Savoia bombers which dropped a large number of bombs on the retiring fleet, with no hits but at the cost of a dozen planes. Following this successful operation the main Battle Fleet had a period of inactivity.

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