Bill's Memories: Chapter 3 - Survivors.

Survivors and New York

In roughly ten days we were anchored off Durban, South Africa. The skipper had run up a yellow flag, which indicates sickness on board. Then came a launch which took Sparks off to hospital. I went as usual to see him, shook hands and wished him good luck and he gave me another tin of fags and they took him away. I felt sad at seeing him go. Now, a doctor comes along in most ports to examine everyone to make sure you are not taking any disease ashore and it is a thorough one. Then came a launch to take all our ship’s crew off. We shook hands with the Greek crew and then left. We were then taken to a hotel called ‘The White Star.’ I had an idea what we must have looked like, I for one, felt embarrassed for I only had what I stood up in, overalls, cap, no socks and gym pumps on. However, they did not say anything and there were only three of us, the rest were officers. The Marine and others were dispersed to different hotels. By the look of us they guessed we were survivors. We were given a nice room and the manager gave us some shaving tackle and said when you have showered etc., come down and there will be a nice meal waiting. Later, after cleaning, we went to the dining room. The manager placed us in a corner and on came the most sumptuous meal we had seen in many a day. I had chicken; the other two with me had steak. We were all blowing after. Then guests plied us with drinks, I stuck to ice cold beer and it went on for three days’ stay, that is. Then I told my two mates I was going to look for a naval establishment and get some gear to wear as it was too embarrassing in the gear we had on. We agreed and off we went. Everyone seemed to stare as we went along and I asked a navy lad where the navy depot was and he said, “just over there,” pointing to a large building. We made a beeline for it. A Petty Officer at a desk said ”What do you scruffy looking bastards want?” I held back but one of the men replied, “We’re survivors, you bastard.” I asked him to show us the way. I knocked on the door and a voice said come in. In we went and met a Commander. “Right what can I do for you chaps?” When I replied, without hesitation, he gave us a chit to go to the navy stores and get a rig out, but he said “I can only give one suit each as we are in short supply, and then come back.” He said “And I’ll send you to a rest camp at Clearwood” (roughly eight miles away). Before we left I told him what the Petty Officer had called us. We went back to the white star Hotel and got our rig on. When we reported back to the commander he gave us a tenner each, saying “you may need that, and there will be transport waiting downstairs in a while.” As we left he said “you may like to know there is a new chap on the desk, the other one has gone to sea.” We could have whooped with glee, it served him right, the bastard, did not know when he was well off. We got aboard the van that had come to take us to the rest camp. It was a swift journey, 15 minutes ride. We had to book in, and given a key that was to our chalet, shown where the showers were and dining hall was. I was amazed how big the complex was. There was at least 150 survivors and army blokes including air force who had all come from the desert area of the war. We had a shower then a buzzer went off telling us it was ‘chow time.’ We made our way to the huge dining hall and how good it turned out to be. We were all given grapes for ‘afters’ and 20 cigs a day for those who smoked. We met a few old mates, from our ship, who had been taken there straight away. There was one I never though I would see again, it was the Marine. He had been there three days. He came over and said “we’ll all go out and celebrate tonight, but we’ll have to be back by 10 o’clock, as they lock the gates by then.” We had a warning; don’t go out alone at night as there were muggers about. We had a great time during our stay in Durban. We had a fortnight there at rest camp. One morning I had to report to the office along with my mates and many more. We were going back home on a big liner called the ‘Monarch of Bermuda.’ We went on a bus to the docks and reported to the Master-at Arms, with our papers. We were shown our cabins on board. Breakfast at seven, lunch at twelve, tea at five. It turned out to be more different that the rest camp. We were under orders now, it was stricter. We did not mind this, we were on our way home.

We did not see anything out of the ordinary on the way back, and we docked at Liverpool. While I was on board, I went to see the Master-at Arms and explained about having no identity papers as I had lost them at sea. He sent me to have my photo taken and stuck them in an identity book and stamped my depot, Devonport, in it. I had no kitbag to lug about, only my small case with shaving tackle and towel soap etc. after we landed at Liverpool, all my mates went their different ways. Some to Chatham, Portsmouth, and there I was , on my own, going to Devonport. I called at the ticket office — it had one for servicemen. I explained my situation to the man in charge of servicemen who gave me a stamped ticket one way. I asked what time it left, train that is, and it was 4 o’clock in the afternoon-a six hour wait- Geez!! I passed the time seeing my old mates off and I walked around the town, making sure I was on time to depart on the train. Would you believe it, it was on time.

After getting on I had to find a compartment that had room and I found one that had three people in, the rest were full. In conversation I found only one going to Devonport, the others got off earlier. To try and converse wasn’t easy, one said you’re looking brown, have you been abroad? I said so and that started the ball rolling. Where had I been? etc. and so on. It seemed to take ages to gat to Plymouth. We finally reached there after six hours. I was feeling a bit whacked. I went up to the guards on patrol at the gate. They asked for my identity, I showed them my card which was OK, but they said “ where’s your helmet and gas mask which you carry at all times?” I told them but they rung up the Master-at-Arms and he sent a patrol to march me to him. It took five minutes for me to explain my situation. Then I was to see the Commander of HMS. Drake once again I had to explain “Why,” but once again I told everything and that it was my depot there. After searching the records register they found my record. “Gawd,” it seemed to take ages giving me a new rig out. Everything, badges, suit, hammock, helmet and gas mask. I asked to stow them away. “Now what about some home leave?” he asked. I said I had not had one since joining up in 1940. “Right, get something to eat and see the Paymaster in the morning.” I went onto the mess deck and had a decent meal. I was tired out by kip time and awakened after a decent sleep. I went along to see the Paymaster who gave me papers for three weeks leave and fifty pounds to go with and said if you come back, put in for some more leave as of that three weeks there is a fortnight’s survivors leave in it and you’re entitled to service leave. I thought that will do nicely for now. As I went in for breakfast, I had a nice surprise. The bloke I mentioned in Hull, Horatio Smithson, who had gone AWOL to see his mother, was serving breakfast. When he saw me he nearly dropped my breakfast on the floor. He was pleased to see me and I asked him if he had been to sea yet and how did he get on when he went back home. “They had to fetch me back as my mother had died before I got home. I’ll tell you I’m never going to sea.” He was very bitter about it. I gave him a couple of quid and left for home.

It was another long train ride to Rotherham and it was too early for the buses to run to Thurcroft. When I got home everyone was pleased to see me. Mum told me she had got a telegram saying, “The ship your son has been serving on has been sunk through enemy action. It is not known whether he has joined another ship or shore establishment.” I had been at home two weeks out of the three weeks leave and I was feeling the wanderlust again and for going back to sea. I got the train back to Plymouth, it did not take as long as the first time, as I did not have to stop for air raids this time, although there were plenty up and down the country.

I settled down to the routine of barrack life, squad drill, gym and town patrol, when I reached Plymouth and did not put in for extra service leave. I was restless and wanted to get back to sea. I did not know then I was to go on a real train journey until a few weeks later. I was having a shower one morning, when a sailor shouted, “Is Leading Seaman Young about?” “That’s me” I said. “You’re wanted in the Draft Office” I dressed and went along to the D.F.D.O. Office, guessed I was going abroad again. The Commander said “You’re in charge of ten recruits, Able Seaman, and you will join a ship at Greenock up in Scotland.” He gave me papers and I got the men together and that was some rail journey from Plymouth. It seemed to last forever with one change at Glasgow.
When we arrived we were met by a naval officer who told us that we were to board a big liner, U.S. Freemont. So I guessed we were going to the States to fetch some lease-lend destroyers. We were shown to our cabins and stowed our gear, kitbags, hammocks etc. It impressed me, the size of the ship, their mess deck and lounge. The skipper asked if we would help out with the watches to ease and help out their men. We readily agreed and he said thanks. It was only to be around ten days and we would be in New York. The meals we had were first class as they were not on rations like we were. The ship had fetched a load of American soldiers over here and took roughly 200 naval men to the States, including us, for different ships to bring back here. But I found out later I was not to be among them. We arrived one morning, we passed the Statue of Liberty and dozens of skyscrapers until we eventually docked at 53rd pier. It looked huge and the lads could not wait to go ashore. But things were to turn out different. The River Hudson was tidal and was in as we arrived. Some of the lads went to US. shore bases, ready to take US. destroyers to England. Eight of us went on HMS. Pintail, moored nearby. We had to lug all our gear aboard and report to the Master-at-Arms who was a Chief Petty Officer, Gunners Mate, who ranked next to Lt. we settled in after introducing ourselves, after roll call was counted. As the tide went out it drained all the sewers in New York into the Hudson. I have never seen as many condoms.The Petty Officer, my senior, was a Liverpool bloke and turned out a good mate, said that I could have shore leave the next day, but not to go alone. Now a bloke called Charlie Willington, said I’ll go with you if you don’t mind. Like any big city, people are always in a hurry to and from work, and I have never seen such a big place. We went up Broadway, 42nd street, amazed at all the neon lights, shows to go to and so on. When Chas said “I’m hungry” we went into a restaurant. He ordered a T-bone steak with trimmings, ie. chips and sliced tomatoes. I have never ever seen such a huge meal. The steak was bigger than the plate. They always ask how you would like it done, rare, medium rare or well cooked. We had the latter. I was blowing halfway through, but I thought of the cost and waded through it. We had beer to wash it down and then the bill came. It was for sixteen dollars, roughly £4. Chas and me thought it was a lot. Then a woman who had been watching us came across and said ”Can I take care of the bill please?” we, or Chas, did give her the bill which she promptly called the waiter and paid. Also a tip. I could see she took a fancy to Chas and we had several more beers, then I left them both in the bar, made my excuses with a reminder to him, “Be back on board by 7am.” In the morning he came on board as I was having a kip. He told me later, with bags under his eyes “She was a real sweetie. Everywhere we went in they would send us drinks in and everyone’s ancestor had come over on the Mayflower. It must have been the biggest ship in the world.” We had two more days there. The skipper, commander Brown, rung our quarters and wanted two escorts to go to the embassy. That means Chas Willington and myself had to go along with him as we were off duty. We were given revolvers, just in case of trouble, and a taxi was waiting to take us. He was going for orders where we were to go on our next trip. We were not allowed in but stood guard outside until he came out. They soon came out of the conference and a taxi was waiting to take us back, and off we went. Chas wondered where we were going to and asked. To which I replied, “How the hell would I know?”

Next morning PO. Diggle said “We were off in an hour and I have made a list of ‘watches’ for you and the other ‘lookouts.’ I’ll take turns on watch with you. This time we had more time off, as we had more men, not only that, the ship had all the mod cons. Which were a huge washer and dryer. It had showers and drying room, it made life easier. We set off for New Jersey to pick up our ‘lethal’ cargo, tanks, bombs, shells and weaponry. It was then I had an idea of where we were going. It was to Africa again!! We were in New Jersey two days and then off we went. I had hoped to visit Coney Island, like Blackpool in England, only we did not get leave.

We never went in convoy as the ship had a good turn of speed and would not attract the subs as a convoy would. Every ship has a barrack room lawyer, but we had a professor. He knew everything. He asked me “If you walked a thousand miles, which part would be the hardest?” I did not know I said. He said “The first step, as you have committed yourself to it.” He asked another, “Why are your eyes facing forward?” So you don’t look back. And why is your nose upside down? If it was the other way, you would drown when it rained. He was a pain at times, but was a decent bloke who later was to have a bad accident at sea. We were roughly ten days at sea and we hit bad weather and got worse in time. The poor old Prof. had a bad fall, he broke some ribs and later they found he had ruptured a kidney. He was carried to the sick bay and the rough weather did not help, but at least they did the best for him. He was in great pain. They gave him a pain injection. The weather calmed down. He was OK for company as the lads visited him whenever they had time. I went as well. We got to the Cape again and the skipper radioed a day beforehand and a launch came and took the poor old boy to hospital.

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