大象传媒

The following morning, a Saturday, we arived in Plymouth, our coaches were shunted into the platform in RN Barracks, where we disgorged, a sleepy disheveled crowd with perhaps a few with a mammoth hangover!

Now it was back to naval discipline we thought but not quite so! We lined up four deep to march to Jagos for breakfast which consisted of the previous day's supper- fish and chips again, but we were not complaining. On the way the Barracks had cleared lower deck and led by the Officers' they shouted "Three cheers for the Hardy survivors!" The mind boggled! Later it was over to the gymnasium where we were kitted out in naval uniform, issued with railway warrants, pay and liberty tickets for fourteen days survivors' leave.

Whilst in the gym, I witnessed, to me, an unbelievable sight. A Master of Arms walking jauntily amongst us, smile like a full moon, carrying a basket containing packets of the best brands of cigarettes. He ws throwing them out with complete abandon like a pretty country maid dishing out bunches of flowers at a country fair! I remembered him from a few years earlier as an RPO on HMS Rodney. He was nicknamed "Dillenger" after that infamous American gangster of the thirties. He would sneak around the messdecks after "pipe down" hoping to catch some unwary matelot having a final puff on his pipe before turning in. It took a war to alter things a bit!

As I searched around for odd bits of uniform, I was suddenly confronted by an old friend from HMS Stork's days. He was our Warrant Bosun, who went by "Tommy the Bosun" he soon had me sorted out, boots on and laced up and then over to the pay table for pay and documents. Then we were all hustled through the Barracks gates to make our way to North Road Station and our leave.

Outside the gates there were quite a crowd of people, mostly women. They were eagerly enquiring of husbands, sons and relatives - the Hardy ships' company who were not with us. We told the waiting women that some of their men had unfortunatly "missed the bus" and would be along in due course. Back in the fjord when we were rescued at Ballanger, those that did not get on board Ivanhoe that night found themselves in an isolated place among the fjords called "cripple creek"; temporary home for all our wrecked and disabled ships. These men did not get home until nearly three weeks after us and had the chagrin experience of listening to the radio telling of how we were whooping it up in London and elsewhere. I believe some of them arived back in Liverpool aboard the troopship Franconia with not so much as a cornish pastie to welcome them home!

Then it was off to North Road Railway Station to catch the Penzance- Liverpool Express and home for a fortnight's rest. A letter I had pencilled to my mother when we were in Scapa was late being delivered and my parents and all the resident of Maesbury village were in a state of uneasy anxiety wandering what had happened to me.

After my leave I was drafted to HMS Defiance, the Torpedo School to await another Torpedo Course. Whilst there, I received a copy of the London Gazette and a letter from Mrs Warburton-Lee congratulating me on being awarded the Distinquished Service Medal.I presumed it was for helping to rescue the Navigating Officer, Lieutenant Commander Gordon-Smith. Stoker Bowden was aloso decorated with the DSM.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.