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15 October 2014
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My War Years: From the Scouts to the Royal Navy

by anodrog

Contributed byÌý
anodrog
People in story:Ìý
Alan Gordon
Background to story:Ìý
Royal Navy
Article ID:Ìý
A1952390
Contributed on:Ìý
02 November 2003

Soon after the war started in 1939 I left school at the ripe old age of thirteen, well to be honest it was a few days before my fourteenth birthday. My father decided at wasnt worth my going back to school for a few days, so off I went looking for work. You have to realise that during the first few months of the war no one had the slightest idea of what was going to happen, we even had the authorities digging trenches in the fields. Gas masks were being dished out, air raid shelters being delivered. The older folk who had been through one war even started stocking up with food. I mean who could imagine a war going on for close on six years. We youngsters thought it would be over in six months or so At this time my home was on the North East coast some ten miles south of Hartlepool, during WW1 Hartlepool was very heavily bombarded by Battleships of the German Fleet, in what was believed to be an attempt to bring the Home Fleet into action. But they were back home before the R.N could get here from Scapa Flow My reason for my telling you this is it may go some way to explaining the bizarre events to follow.
At that time I was a member of the Boy Scouts, and it was decided the boy scouts would patrol the sea shore at night to report any activity at sea, heaven only knows what we would or could of done, after a few weeks of this life slowly returned to normal. A short time later volunteers were wanted as runners for the fire fighters, as you will be aware this was before the days of walkie talkie radios, and when the telephone lines went down all communication went with it. I volunteered, told the officer I was sixteen and fooled him into taking me on. All this took place during my own time, as during the normal working day I ran my own window cleaning business quite a young entrepreneur. Of course with all the men in the forces or on war work there wasn’t much competition I stayed with fire brigade for a while.
Unfortunately soon after my father passed away. I should explain my Father was thrown out the army in 1915/16 when they found out he was only just turned sixteen. So he couldn’t complain about my lying about my age. I still have a photo of him in the uniform of a Seaforth Highlander with the kilt and all the regalia. The remarkable thing is he was due to be promoted to lance corporal a couple of days later. After my fathers death we moved further inland and I started work in a factory making 2000/4000lb bombs in my off work time I joined the Local Home Guard once again lying about my age I know many jokes have been said about this group of men, they were never required in action. In fact prior to taking the name Home Guard they were named the Local Defence Volunteers or the LDV. Some wags said it meant Look Duck and Vanish. The majority of these men had already been through one world war, others were not fit enough to join the regular armed forces, the remainder who were not under age like myself were in reserved occupations i.e. important war work. As to weapons you may ask, what weapons,!!!! I think at that time we had one rifle between three men, plenty of empty bottles for the production of Molotov cocktails and petrol coupons for the purchase of the same. Thank god we were never called upon to use them. We did manage to acquire one anti tank weapon Ha Ha Ha the Boyes anti tank rifle, if my memory is still intact this gun fired a bullet about one inch in diameter, and was fired in the prone position with the but pressed against the shoulder. Fortunately we did not have any ammo or at least not any we could afford to use in practice. Against a tank it would have been as much use as a peashooter. All of this took place after often working over twelve hour’s non-stop in a munitions factory. And the youth of today complain of boredom.
By this time I had started my apprenticeship however getting fed up of the black-out and being sh*t on from a great height (courtesy of the Luftwaffe) I tried to join the Royal Navy this time my lying was to no avail. The message was come back when you are eighteen. I believe I tried three times to join, eventually they took my name and the day I was seventeen and six months old I received my calling up papers. It’s not possible to think of anything more depressing Reporting to the recruiting office at Middlesbrough, I was shown into the office where I met another lad who appeared to be a couple of years older than me. The officer looked us up and down saw I was the tallest thrust two rail tickets in my hand and remarked you’re in charge report to the training camp in Wales. I thought this is great I haven’t even got into my uniform and at seventeen he’s made me responsible for both of us getting to Wales.
Arriving at our destination late at night with gas mask and suitcase in hand we entered the camp and met our very first CPO. With a voice that could be heard a mile away he politely asked where the hell had we been. The fact that the train had been three hours late was of no interest to him. I was on the verge of remarking there’s a war on and none of the trains were on time, but I thought it better to keep my mouth shut. He thereupon directed us to our billet and informed us report to the camp office first thing in the morning. I innocently asked at what time? I thought he had rather funny look on his face when he said don’t worry we’ll call you in the morning, how naïve can you be?
At what seemed to be the middle of the night, which in reality was 7 am we were duly called, had breakfast, reported to the duty officer and were directed to the kit store to be fitted out with our uniforms. I use the term fitted out in the loosest sense of the term. Fitted out!!!!! Take the trousers; fasten the belt do they stay up yes? That’s ok; how about length, do you stand on them when walking? No then that’s ok for length. Now the jacket does it cover your trouser top? That’s ok; sleeve length can he see your fingers? Yes that’s ok for sleeve length. Now for the cap put it on, can you still see? Ok its not too big then. Shake your head does it fall off? No that’s ok; it’s not too small. And this goes on for the rest of your kit. In the Royal Navy you are issued with two of everything. However there’s a difference, once you have been kitted out by the R.N. that’s it, wear it out, or loose it you pay for its replacement. And for this pleasure I think we received the princely sum of six pence per day. Out of this you even had to pay for you boots to be repaired. It’s often remarked how smart we looked when on parade, very few people realise that the uniforms being worn were bought by the men themselves. The first job of any rating once he had finished his initial training was a journey to the naval tailors to be measured for a decent uniform. To be paid for out of the six pence a day allowance. A uniform that fitted so tight it took two men to pull on the jacket that was until the introduction of zip fasteners.
After six weeks square bashing, and learning all about obeying orders without question, I went off on a course to learn all about engineering, that’s a bit of an overstatement we did learn where the boiler room and the engines where on a ship and very little else. As far as the Navy was concerned we would learn all about engineering when we got to sea and believe me you soon learned all about engineering the C.P.O.s made sure of that. A short time after finishing the course I was on my way to Gibraltar on board the battleship HMS Ramillies Gibraltar!!
I thought we had arrived in another world. After four years of bombing, rationing, and the blackout. It was like heaven to see the bright lights and the chance to buy anything you wanted that's if you had the money. And to be able to sleep at night without the sound of wailing sirens, and the noise of bombs going off. And no damned doodle bugs. If it wasn't for my desire to get to sea and help finish the war, they could of left me on the rock for the rest of WW11. I had to wait a few weeks for the return of the ship I was to join, along with another destroyer she was already credited with the sinking of the well-known Italian Submarine Leonardo De Vinci. After the trip out on the Battleship H.M.S. Ness looked quite small, still I couldn’t complain I’d made quite plain during my training that I would prefer to serve on small ships It was during my first few weeks on board that I began to realise what comradeship was all about, everyone on board the ship was part of a family, I don’t think you could find the same feeling in the other services. (I’m open to correction here) In the navy the ship was your home and you took your home with you when you went off to war, and unlike the other services that sometimes got separated and often went off as individuals to fight. The crew of a ship had to fight as a team at all times. With comradeship came trust and honesty! Yes honesty, after seeing the amount stealing that went on outside the services, it came as something of a shock to find one could leave your money lying on top of your locker and go back after your watch was finished and it would be just as you left it. Mind if you should leave your cigarettes, it was ok for anyone to help himself, provided they didn’t take the last one. After a couple of trips to Freetown on escort duty and dropping heaven knows how many depth charges, the ship was ordered back to England for urgent repairs the depth charges had finally made their mark on the ship. With the amount of concrete in her bilges I sometime wonder how on earth she floated.
The ships crew were given a couple of days notice that we would be on our way back to Britain, you can imagine the panic stations in the rush to purchase goods the folks at home had not seen since 1939, perfume for the girl friends, chocolate for the youngsters, and most of all bananas and oranges. After the war ended there were children who had never even seen a banana, or a pineapple.
More convoy work more rough seas and I mean rough, forty-foot waves. There was only one ship that was worse in a heavy sea and that was the American four stackers, to see them in the Atlantic, they were never built for such punishment.
Sometimes when returning from convoy escort work we would be called on to do a bit of mine sweeping on one occasion we brought a mine to the surface, the usual method of getting rid of the mine was to shoot at it with 303 rifles, hopefully the mine would either sink or go off with a bit of a bang. Today however no amount shooting seemed to be having any effect on the damned thing, the skipper was getting cheesed off he didn’t like hanging around too long and was heard to remark what the hell do I have to do to get rid of the bloody thing ram it? Needless to say shortly after that remark of desperation the mine did slowly disappear beneath the waves.
The war was by now coming to an end. In fact we were at sea when the signal was given for all U Boats to surface and hoist a black flag. I’m given to believe the U Boats were given this order out of respect for the way 99.9% of them behaved in the battle of the Atlantic. To hoist a white flag of surrender would have been too much to expect of them they had proved to be men of extreme courage. Our job was to board the U-Boat withdraw all the torpedoes remove the primers, remove the breechblocks from the guns and dump them all overboard. And give the navigator instructions as to which port he had to proceed to. While this was going on all our gun were trained on his conning tower as no one knew what to expect, all the time we were expecting to see a couple of torpedoes heading our way.
While all this was going on everyone at base was celebrating, and on our return to Londonderry it was quite apparent our celebrations were going to have to wait awhile, the greedy lot had drank the town dry However on entering harbour it was nice to see all those U Boat tied to the harbour wall there must have been dozens of them What a sight to see after six long long years it was over. Within a few days I left HMS Ness returned to my home base Portsmouth and immediately given a draft chit (sent to another ship)
The next bit will be of interest to some of your Navy Vets…. I went by sea and rail to Hamburg with about 10 other ratings to take over a German supply ship, she was to be part of the war reparations from Germany while she was undergoing repairs and being made ready for use in the Royal Navy for example ripping out all the crews cabins, creating large mess decks and welding hooks for hammocks. You should realise the Navy couldn’t have the lowly matelot sleeping in cabins. What next soft toilet paper and scented soap? Once all the cabins had been removed the hammock hooks installed an agreement was made by the allies was to give the ship to the American navy. I wasn’t there to see the hand over to your lads When I assume all the cabins would be reinstalled ready for the American crew. The name of the ship………DITHMARSCHEN A supply ship for the German Battleships . The Royal Navy named her H.M.S. Southmark. However having her for such a short time there are no records that a ship of this name ever existed in the Royal Navy. She later became USS Conecuh (AOR-110) I did pinch the battle ensign from the ship but unfortunately this somehow disappeared many years ago, I do however have a corkscrew from the ship and it brings back all the memories when I open a bottle of wine.
After a couple of months of this holiday, well it was a life of complete idleness. I returned to the UK and was drafted to a Brand new Aircraft carrier. And finished my final year with her until my demobilisation
Alan Gordon.

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