大象传媒

My father-in-law wrote this account and two others (also in the archive) about different events, several years ago, in order to help one of his grandchildren who was then working on a school history project. My father-in-law served in North Africa, Sicily, Southern Italy and was involved in the planning and execution of the Rhine Crossing. He died in 1996 aged 88.

This is his unedited account, typed from his handwritten manuscript:

鈥淭orch鈥� was a joint American 鈥� British invasion of Algeria, intended to take Rommel in the rear whilst the Afrika Corps were busy fighting in the desert areas and along the coast of Libya. It was not as successful as it should have been because the Allies under-estimated the effectiveness of German air-transport 鈥� within a few days of the Anglo 鈥� American landings in Algeria, the Germans had seized the important French naval base and supply centre of Bizerta (Tunisia). Consequently we had to make do with the furthest forward harbour we could hold which was B么ne (now called Annaba by the Algerian Republic)

The operation plan was to seize a number of ports along the coast from Algiers together with the major port of Oran (another French naval base) which was instantly occupied by the Americans. I embarked on the Bibby-line troop ship 鈥淪taffordshire鈥� at Liverpool, as lieutenant in charge of a small naval party whose job it was to install under-water anti-submarine detector gear at the entrance to the harbour at B么ne, then a busy town with a population of 60,000; another party (to which I was later attached) was to install a vast cable system in the outer bay reaching out to Cap de Garde.

We sailed from the Clyde on 7th/8th November 1942, in what was the support convoy. It was a magnificent sight, many great ocean liners in battle-ship grey, but it was very short of escorts 鈥� 2 small 鈥淗unt鈥� class so-called destroyers and one U.S.Coastguard frigate. As we neared the Netherlands an aircraft carrier appeared. We had a couple of alarms on the way, the depth-charges from the escorts making an unbelievable clang on the ship鈥檚 bottom. No attacks materialised, but at least the cockroaches were given a good shaking! The troop ship had its full share of these creatures but it was a comfortable ship, with good food and very attentive Indian crew and stewards.

One night there was great excitement on board 鈥� everyone on deck as we sailed close to Tangier, the promenade a blaze of lights, a sight we had not seen for months in the UK. Tangier, of course, was neutral territory.

Soon we were off Algiers, a magnificent sight in the sunshine, the white buildings contrasting with the brown foothills of the Atlas Mountains in the distance. There had been a little firing from the French when the first party arrived but we were alongside in peace and quiet 鈥� and very hot in our ordinary naval uniform. Our kit-bags and cases piled high on the quayside (most of the quays had stone facings but only earth and sand behind) until a violent downpour turned it all into a sea of mud! Before dark we marched to outside the town, along a beach with a railway adjoining, the wind was now cold and by the time I had constructed a head-shield for myself (out of stones, sand and my great-coat) the moon had got up and what seemed a heavy air-raid began 鈥� shrapnel rained down and the local defences seemed to be totally uncoordinated. In fact it seemed as if they fired at the sound of a plane in the sky. No casualties, and in the morning we marched back again to the troop ship. Some of the baggage and stores had almost disappeared in the mud but mine was OK. On board 鈥淪taffordshire鈥� the cabin stewards were all asleep, and we unrolled our blankets on the bunks and were glad of another sleep. Later in the morning the Indian stewards appeared quite upset because we had made our own beds, however roughly!

Late afternoon the whole naval party loaded 4 fast assault ships 鈥� 鈥淩oyal Ulsterman鈥�, 鈥淩oyal Scotsman鈥� ( ex LMS ferries) 鈥淨ueen Wilhelmina鈥� and 鈥淧rincess Beatrix鈥�, (converted Dutch North Sea line 鈥� very modern). Off late evening, moonlight, a considerable raid (very uncomfortable below decks and below the water line!) but no damage. Following day an attack by 2 Caproni torpedo planes 鈥� they made a poor job of it and must have been very inexperienced, as each plane had a go at one ship, instead of the 2 planes attacking one ship together!

Early evening we were approaching B么ne, the coast absolutely magnificent and the town topped by a beautiful modern church; a solitary 鈥淪pitfire鈥� circled overhead amidst cheers from below! As we neared the berthing quay there was an eerie silence on board as everyone realised that the dockside appeared empty, hardly enough Army and Naval personnel to berth the ship. Later on, when we were in our commandeered hotel and darkness had fallen, we realised only too well why the area appeared so empty 鈥� the locals spent their nights away in the hills! The night raid (which was to be a regular feature for some weeks) began at about 10pm, just as everyone was struggling to erect that abomination the army-type camp bed in whatever space could be found; of course all the lights went out, the crash of crockery falling off tables almost obliterated the muttered oaths, cursing not so much the Germans but everyone and everything, particularly the camp beds!

The following day it was all routine, finding out where everything was, who was doing what, settling the site of our future instrument house (a very convenient concrete pill-box at the end of the outer mole of the harbour), interrupted by an occasional raid or an alarm caused by a high flying reconnaissance plane; before dusk I had a quick walk around the town, a pleasant little place, mostly empty, of course, with French or Arab guards here and there. Was astonished to see the Italian Consulate, in the main street 鈥� a fine building with its own 鈥減ropaganda cinema鈥�, reception hall and flats above 鈥� whereas the British Consulate was hidden in a mews off a side-street and appeared to consist of a converted garage with a small apartment above!

In the following weeks we all worked so hard, amidst the interruptions of day and night raids, that no one could remember which day of the week it was; at last 鈥渕y station鈥� was finished, the gear was in the water and worked, and we had an inspection visit from a Lieut. Cdr. from Algiers; he was very complimentary and we all felt quite pleased with ourselves. By now we were all in better accommodation, my own party in what had been a swimming and water-polo club built into the cliff-side near the harbour (the club was called 鈥淟es Navigeurs de B么ne鈥�) and a group of the officers in the top floor of a villa on the outskirts, a pleasant little beach settlement called 鈥淪aint Cloud des Plages鈥�. The villa was owned by a very sweet old lady, Madame Bonet, a widow from the 1914/1918 war, and she occupied the ground floor, with all her immediate family (including two grandchildren) gathered round her. The raids got less and less, until just before Christmas it went dead quiet for several days. Over Christmas itself we were able to give the children and the old lady鈥檚 family chocolate bars from our rations, and UK mail began to come in quite well. There was a small prisoners camp nearby and the Germans were able to hold their own services and it was really quite moving to hear them singing 鈥淗eilige Nacht鈥� on Christmas Eve. We had a visit from the Army padre who was terribly impressed by it all 鈥� in fact had tears in his eyes as he went outside to listen to more of the singing 鈥� but Madame Bonet was deeply shocked at the sight of a priest (of course she was a Catholic) in khaki shorts 鈥� she went about the house shaking her head and muttering 鈥淢on Dieu! Mon Dieu! 鈥� M鈥檚ieur le cur茅 en pantalon!!鈥�

Christmas over and still very quiet, except for the occasional reconnaissance plane, however having let us have a quiet New Year鈥檚 Day, Jerry organised his best planned raid on 2 January 1943, at least as far as we were concerned. I was on my way to the mole shortly after 7am, the cruiser on harbour station (part of Force H) ran up the yellow warning flag, and a small force of fighter planes attacked the aerodrome which was some way out from B么ne itself. At the same time as this well staged diversion was going on ( not visible in B么ne of course ) a force of 鈥淪tukas鈥� ( Junkers 87 Dive-Bombers) flew in from the sea, attacking shipping and the cranes on the quayside, whilst a further bombing force flew down from the hills, having crossed the coast further away. The anti-aircraft fire was the most spectacular, with the cruisers (one inner, one outer, plus destroyers and Army ack-ack) elevating their heavy guns in a manner I had never seen before. I began to run towards the end of the mole, but thought better of it as the shrapnel shower was pretty heavy: instead I climbed down onto the rocks of which the mole was partly built. From there I had a grandstand view of what was going on; as the dive-bombers JV 87s turned away towards the sea, on their way home ( presumably Cagliari in Sardinia) they must have suffered heavy casualties, as these rather slow planes turn in such a way that the 鈥渂elly鈥� of the plane forms a good target. As the ack-ack fire increased, suddenly 2 Fokker-Wulf 190s roared across the harbour at mast head height ( at this period the 鈥�190鈥� was the fastest fighter in the world in level flight and could carry a single 500lb bomb) 鈥� they were close behind each other and as they approached the tanker 鈥淓mpire Metal鈥� discharging petrol into the storage depot of the French Company 鈥淐 F P 鈥� (Compagnie Francaise de Petrole) each let loose a single bomb; the first flew over the tanker, but the second scored a direct hit near the bows of the tanker. Instantly it was a mass of flame, rising about 2-300 ft into the air. The blast was so terrific I was nearly knocked over and thought I was hit, but it was only the pressure wave. Several members of the crew of the 鈥淓mpire Metal鈥� were killed (we never knew how many) and the oil continued to burn for about 10 days, in spite of the hull being split open by a shell or two from one of our destroyers, to prevent further explosions. The harbour area was lit up at night as if it had been flood-lit, but the Germans did no more than send a reconnaissance plane the next day. They were evidently satisfied; our first tanker totally destroyed, the oil terminal ruined, the cruiser 鈥淎jax鈥� damaged ( though not much) a whole berth put out of action for the rest of the campaign by a ship alongside (鈥淪an Merriel鈥�) being rolled over, most of our remaining dockside cranes blown into the water and an ammunition dump blown up. It was, however, all too late.

A few days later I saw a young Arab executed by a French 鈥淕uides Mobil鈥� firing squad. This was in a quarry near our villa, with children looking on from bedroom windows. The thought struck me that if he had been on our side no doubt he would have been a hero for 鈥減assing information to the enemy鈥�

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