大象传媒

When I returned to England with the North Atlantic convoy aboard HMS Pylades, we were sent to Portsmouth to be engaged in the Normandy invasion. We were to sweep the shipping channels for mines during the invasion. The Captain told the men to write any letters they needed to as they might not get another chance for a while. The letters had to be censored. The pile of letters was so large that against all precedent he decided to help. The Captain read a letter from a seaman who the Captain thought not suitable for our new task and the seaman was put ashore. I mention this as a strange coincidence in view of the outcome. We swept the Channel by day and at night we anchored along the Normandy beaches as air defence.
Human torpedoes were operating from Caen. We were searching for these men and were using ASDIC. We were blown up by a human torpedo. I was on the bridge as Navigating Officer. I got my satchel and charts and we abandoned ship. The satchel was weighted and contained all our charts except the one in use. This I threw overboard. The chart in use came overboard with me and was duly presented ashore. I had on my duffel coat and Mae West (lifejacket) and jumped in the water. I swam away as quickly as I could. A fellow officer who had jumped into the water with me had lost his cap and asked me to retrieve it which I regretfully declined!! Later I saw the ships bows were sticking up and only the stern was on the bottom. Other ships sent out small launches to pick up survivors. As the mines being used by the Germans were pressure activated the ships couldn't go very fast. We were in the water quite a long time before being picked up. I came across a seaman who was distressed - he couldn't swim. He was quite calm so as I was trained in lifesaving I did the breast stroke method to tow him. I came across a bit of timber and put him across it and he was OK. A boat came and I asked them to take the bloke on the plank first but they never came back for me. It was quite a while before another boat came to pick me up. I saw the lad later, he was only 18, and he thanked me. I was put on a depot ship to get my clothes dried and sometime later I walked along the beach to join a returning vessel and met some soldiers who commiserated with me, but I pointed that we were going to England and they were not.
I got on a transport ship with wounded men, it was a harrowing experience. When I reached Portsmouth the only piece of new equipment I was issued with was a new cap to go home with on survivors leave. When I had been at home for about three weeks, my cabin trunk finally turned up from America, with my kit in. (see the story "America and HMS Pylades").

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