Books re Combined Operations

Drop Zone Sicily: Allied Airborne Strike, July 1943

By William B. Breuer

Drop Zone Sicily, like most books concerning the hundreds to thousands of specific events related to World War II, does not chiefly focus on the Combined Operations organization. For those searching for information about where the men who volunteered for Combined Ops served during 1943, however, and what conditions were like, what was behind some of the particular episodes of action they participated in, witnessed first-hand and questioned ("What caused so many airborne mishaps?" Link to  Sicily, Airborne Mishaps), this book plays a vital role.

Within the first 100 pages in particular, I learned more about where Canadians in Combined Operations (e.g., the 55th, 61st, 80th and 81st Flotillas of landing craft) played a significant role and what important activities were taking place over their heads while they laboured upon the barges and beaches near the SE corner of the island of Sicily, July 1943.

Above photos reveal Canadians at work on LCMs near Avola, Sicily 1943

Photo Credit to Imperial War Museum, UK

Table of Contents, in part:

Mr. Breuer writes a well-researched report of the invasion of Sicily, from start to finish, and tells much about airborne action, some of it disastrous, as seen and reported on by Canadians in Combined Operations.

Chapter Seven, 'Assault by Sea' mentions in several places the role of landing craft under tough conditions: (In the Gulf of Gela, with US troops) "Grim-faced American infantrymen, burdened with heavy combat gear, struggled up steel steps from the cramped and stifling holds, climbed over railings and down slippery rope ladders into little assault boats. Minutes after scores of the tiny landing craft began the nine-mile run to Axis-defended beaches of southern Sicily, many of the assault troops became violently ill, hanging their heads over the sides of the pitching, bucking boats and vomiting into the angry sea..." page 102

Below are a few excerpts from earlier chapters that may whet the appetite of students of Combined Operations' history.

"The combined airborne-amphibious assault would be a mammoth undertaking. Forces had to be collected, trained, equipped and eventually embarked from widely dispersed bases in the Mediterranean, England and the United States, the latter more than 4,000 miles from Sicily. In the initial assault there would be 160,000 men, nearly 3,000 ships and landing craft, 14,000 vehicles, 600 tanks and 1,800 guns." Page 17

Later we read about a planned night glider assault, the results of which were, in part, disastrous, at least a part near the beaches where Canadians were to focus their transport efforts (re troops and all the material of war):

"...Montgomery had insisted that the glider mission at Syracuse and a later parachute drop just south of the Catania plain be included in Operation Husky. Now Hopkinson was briefing Colonel Chatterton in glowing terms on the British glider assault. The colonel commanding the glider pilots became increasingly disturbed, then totally dismayed. General Hopkinson made it all sound so routine... but (Chatterton) was convinced the night glider assault as planned would result in disaster." Page 19

Photo of Page 46

"In the chaos, a number of tow planes climbed to 3,000 feet, and their gliders released high above the other tug-glider combinations. The released gliders then drifted down through the wildly gyrating aircraft flying at a lower level. Most gliders were cut loose at random and soon the moonlit sky was awash with motorless craft moving in exorably toward crash landings somewhere in Sicily. Few pilots knew which part of Sicily." Page 46

Canadians in Combined Ops, on Assault Landing Craft (ALCs) and Landing Craft, Mechanized (LCMs) were very likely first-hand witnesses to the "crashed gliders, lying silently in grotesque, twisted masses or burned to a crisp (that were) scattered about the landscape over a wide expanse of south-east Sicily" reported by Mr. Breuer on page 48. (Please link to  Sicily, Airborne Mishaps if you have not already done so).

Photo of map as found on page 105

I purchased my used copy at AbeBooks and am happy to have it in my growing collection of WW2 texts.

Please link to more Books re Combined Operations

Unattributed Photos by GH

Short Story re Sicily, "Airborne Mishaps"

Airborne Mishaps Off The Sicilian Coast

By David J. Lewis, RCNVR, Combined Operations

"The crew in one of our LCMs approaching the site of a glider crashed against

the cliff near the Noto landing beach." Photo Credit - D. J. Lewis, as found at

St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War 1941-1945, Pg. 181 

Since taking this picture, and (breathing in) the dreadful smell that went with it, fifty-two and one-half years have passed. The experience remains uncomfortably vivid. However, I have continued to wonder why this particular glider pilot had come in a few feet below the top of the cliff side. Answers have been various. Either he had been gliding too low, too slow, too heavy laden or had he hit a last minute down draft? However, he struck the cliff and collapsed everybody and everything against it into a heap at the water line; a tragic mass of metal, wood and aviation fabric interspersed with human remains.

Further out to sea we could see (drowned) soldier comrades hovering like mermen in the greeny blue depths of the clear Mediterranean waters. Down there they seemed to keep station until internal gas brought them to the surface at irregular intervals during the first fortnight  after the Sicilian landings. Then they were towed over to the landing beach where their dog tags were noted and they went to a permanent or temporary grave.

...Admiral J. C. O'Brien wrote: "We were just in time to see the stream of DC3s towing gliders with the airborne troops - the parachutists, I suppose, were ahead of them - coming in over this large convoy where, being American ships, they'd all been issued with 20mm guns. The cry in our navy was that the Americans got a dollar for every time they loosed off a magazine. And they just filled the sky, with the result that we saw the lead aircraft start pulling the plug early and saw the gliders go into the otherwise very successful landings in Sicily." (Page 169, Salty Dips, Vol. 2)

O,Brien's Salty Dips matches up with personal experiences working off the Noto invasion beaches of Sicily in the month of July 1943 subsequent to the landings. We had morning and nightly visits from Axis bombers which were greeted with very heavy fire from US ships and sometimes requests for more ammunition because all theirs had been shot away in the course of their first night off the landing beach. Meanwhile the anchorage was showered with their canon shells and AA shrapnel.

At that time the 80th Flotilla was fortunate in a sort of a kind of way because they had found a cave on one of their beaches in which, if they cared, they could take shelter. The down side was that the cave had been home to generations of livestock who were not given to cleaning up after themselves.

The 81st LCM Flotilla's night off duty quarters were in the bare boats, for the most part unprotected. No better protected were those who dug themselves a vertical slit trench or slung their hammocks between almond trees in a neighbouring orchard...

More details about the above excerpt, and its conclusion can be found at this link, St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1, pages 181 - 182.

At Avola and Noto beaches: The proximity of Axis airports and the stretched

defensive distance of the Allies resulted in the heaviest and most prolong experience of

bombing. A distant stick of bombs is seen on the horizon. Photo - D. J. Lewis, pg. 183

The Morning After: The twisted upper works of the burning Liberty Ship bombed

at Noto Beach, now resting on the bottom. Photo Credit - D. J. Lewis, pg. 185

Related observations concerning the glider assault force by Leading Seaman D. Harrison of the 80th Flotilla, at Avola Beach (found at Memoirs, Ch. 7 - Sicily):

A signal came through, i.e., ‘do not fire on low flying aircraft, they are ours and towing gliders.’

What, in the dark?

Next morning, as we slowly moved in (on Landing Craft Mechanized, LCMs), we saw gliders everywhere. I saw them sticking out of the water, crashed on land and in the vineyards. In my twenty-seven days there I did not see a glider intact.

 As well, please link to Short Story re Malta, "Rest and Repair, August 1943"

Short Story re Malta, "Rest and Repair, August 1943"

Food, Sustenance and Mail Were Found on Malta

By Doug Harrison, RCNVR, Combined Ops

Bighi Ex-Royal Navy Hospital, Valletta, Malta: Link to Photo Credit

Editor's Introduction: My father wrote weekly columns, like the one below, for his hometown newspaper, The Norwich Gazette, in the early 1990s. In them he shared details about his training upon various types of landing craft in Scotland and England, and his service from 1941 - 1945 as a member of very active landing craft flotillas, e.g., the 80th Flotilla of Landing Craft Mechanized (LCMs) during, for example, the invasions of Sicily and Italy. In between those invasions, i.e., in August, 1943, he recovered from dysentery on the very well-remembered - for rest, recovery and repair - island of Malta.

Food, Sustenance and Mail Were Found on Malta

At the end of the Sicilian campaign several Canadian sailors and officers became ill. Fatigue brought on by long hours of work and poor nourishment for over a month had now taken its toll and showed up in various ways. Salt water sores, rashes, sunburn, dysentery, things we hadn’t time to bother with before now began to manifest themselves.

Fear was now gone and the inaction caused many to have letdowns. Many had not relaxed for weeks and now that it was over they had difficulty handling it. Mail from home would have helped at a time like this; most of us hadn’t had mail since April and it was now the middle of August. I would have given my right arm for a cool drink of Norwich water and Sweet Caporal cigarettes from the Women’s War league. Parcels and letters were awaiting us in Malta and we were heading that way by landing craft and ship.

If we had a doctor I don’t recall one, but someone, possibly an officer, doled out quinine for malaria, as mosquitoes were really bad. Under the worst possible conditions we tried to keep clean; the only clothes we owned were on our backs and we weren’t to get more until our return to England sometime in October. Khaki shorts and shirts were our uniforms.

After being free from dysentery, I now felt its ravages. Luckily though, I went the 100 miles or so to Malta aboard a real old veteran ship named the Ulster Monarch. Whenever there was a campaign this old stalwart was there. None of us were basket cases and certainly enjoyed being flaked out in bunks on the Monarch. I remember the ship’s sick bay assistant (Tiffy) handing me a fistful of pills. I counted them and there were 16. I asked him how many doses they were and he answered, “One. What are you going to wash them down with... the deck hose?” We all laughed but I wish I hadn’t.

In a few hours, with my orders from the ship’s doctor to report to Hill 10 Hospital, I climbed the cement steps in Valetta Harbor as best I could. Malta isn’t very large and by asking a few natives I found my way to the hospital, dragged right out. I wandered in and reported my condition to one of the English orderlies. I’ll never forget how cheerful his reply was in that Godforsaken place. “Oh, we’ll soon cure that, Canada.”

“Yeah? How?” I said.

“We’ll starve you for a week.”

(So, what else was new?)

Ill effects of dysentery and malnourishment were felt by many members of Combined

Operations. CPO Hugh Houston of London, Ontario walks (left) in Victoria, B.C., and

(right) stands in Valletta, Malta, after experiencing both in the Italian campaign.

Photo from St. Nazaire to Singapore, Volume 1, page 155

But I was in no condition to argue and for a few days I found out how severe dysentery can be, and hunger was no stranger to me, but after four or five days the staff relented and gave me a little boiled cabbage. Here was FOOD and SUSTENANCE and I suffered very few side affects. I was on my way, even my ribs looked better. After about 10 days I was given a clean bill of health and released to wander freely about Malta and wait for my comrades who were late coming from Sicily in landing craft. I found a vacant array of Air Force tents to sleep in and was fortunate to scrounge some food from the natives. I thought I had it tough - but I couldn’t hold a candle to these folks. I investigated a bit of the catacombs where many slept and lived through the intense bombing raids - no wonder the island was awarded the George Cross.

I can’t remember the name of the service paper I found in the tent, but there before my eyes was a photo of a Norwich air force boy, Bob Alexander. The paper reported that Bob had completed 30 missions and had returned to Canada to become an instructor. It’s a small world. I carried that paper for a long while. When my friends returned from Sicily in their landing craft, I was waiting for them at the bottom of the cement steps. Our commanding officer Lt/Comdr Koyl and a few hands disappeared for awhile and when they returned they were weighted down with kit bags of parcels and mail. The blues disappeared and quietness settled in as every one of us, in a different posture, chewed on an Oh Henry bar and read news from home. The war wasn’t so bad after all. We shared with anyone who hadn’t received a parcel; no one went hungry. We feasted on chocolate bars, cookies, canned goods and the news.

There were still about 250 of us - we hadn’t lost a soul, but one man had a terrible shrapnel wound in his arm. We conserved parcels for a rainy day and were dispersed to ships and tents to live for a few days while our stoker got the engines on each craft ready for the invasion of Italy. Of course, no one knew when that would be, but urgency was the order of the day and repair parts were non-existent. We toured the island of Malta and some sailed over to Gozo, another small island. We mingled with the inhabitants but generally we took the opportunity to get some rest and re-read mail. I saw a movie, and before the show the music consisted of western songs by Canada’s own Wilf Carter.

Although no one ventured a word, we all had Italy in the back of our minds. Before we got too settled in, we were throwing our hammocks aboard our landing craft again and heading for Sicily. Our flotillas beached at the mouth of a now dried up river bed at Mila Marina, then a few days in Catania harbor itself, where we had a good view of German low-level attacks on a British cruiser. At night we watched German planes try to take evasive action as they were caught in the searchlights which circled the harbor. During the day we could see the smoke from Mt. Etna.

Loaded LSTs in Catania harbour, September 1, 1943 

Photo Credit - W. Sinclair MacLeod (RAF Beach Units)

At midnight on September 3, 1943 our Canadian landing craft flotilla, loaded once again with war machinery, left the beaches near Messina, Sicily and crossed the Messina Strait to Reggio Calabria in Italy. The invasion of Italy was underway.

. . . . . .

Related text from Doug Harrison's memoirs, from Chapter Seven 'Sicily and Italy' (already logged on this site) appears below:

After approximately 27 days I came down with severe chills and then got dysentery. I was shipped to Malta on the Ulster Monarch and an intern came around and handed me 26 pills. I inquired how many doses was that? “Just one,” he replied.

At Malta I was let loose on my own to find Hill 10 Hospital. I did after a while and they asked me my trouble. I said, “Dysentery.” “Oh, we’ll soon cure that,” they said. How? “We won’t give you anything to eat.” So for four days all I got was water and pills and soon I was cured, though weak. I thought of those poor devils in the desert.

When I felt better they sent me to a tent where I got regular meals. I saw an air force newspaper and on the front was a picture of Bob Alexander of Norwich, a school chum. But Bob returned to the fray and was lost on one of his bombing missions. How sorry I was to hear that news. He had already done so much.

“Bob Alexander (centre) of Norwich, a school chum"

1935 - 36, Norwich High School photograph

Soon all the boys returned to Malta and we prepared for Italy, though all our barges stayed in Sicily. We took a Landing Ship Tank (LST) back to Mila Marina, Sicily and, if memory serves me correctly, attacked Italy at Reggio Calabria across Messina Straits on my birthday, September 6, 1943.

“From Sicily, via Strait of Messina, to Italy in 1943”

Link to Photo Credit 

Please link to Short Story re Sicily, "Four Canadian Flotillas, 1943"

Unattributed Photos by GH

Short Story, RMS Strathnaver & The Bishop's Britches

LCA Officers Raise 'The Bishop's Britches'

By Jack Davie, LT CDR, DSC, CD, RCNVR (Rtd)

Photos as found in St. Nazaire to Singapore, Page 169

Introduction by Editor: This story takes place aboard RMS Strathnaver on its way around Africa, while carrying the 61st Canadian Assault Landing Craft Flotilla toward the Suez Canal and later the invasion of Sicily, 1943.

The Bishop's Britches

A Bishop of the Church of England, when in full array, wears a particular pair of trousers called britches. Unlike matelot's bell bottoms, they go in at the foot rather than out. Close fitted to the leg they have shiny black buttons on the outside of each leg from the knee upward. Thereby hangs the tale.

RMS Strathnaver, a prewar cruise ship owned and operated by the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigational Company (The P & O Line), sailed from the Clyde a few months before the invasion of Sicily, bound for the Suez to work up and take part in the landings. She carried reinforcements for the Desert 8th Army, the 61st Canadian Assault Landing Craft Flotilla and the Bishop of Nigeria.

On the first Sunday out, the SNO (Senior Naval Officer) LT John Eardley-Wilmot, RN (later CDR John Eardley-Wilmot) decided that we should have a church parade since we had on board a distinguished prelate who would deliver a sermon. This the Bishop did and I am told that his message was to urge the 8th Army reinforcements to make their peace with God there and then as the chances were that they would be dead shortly. Holy Communion may have followed - I cannot say as I was not present.

In any event, we had on board an RN padre, the Rev. Bright, also Anglican, ho became very close to us Canadians and earned the nickname of "Bottles" Bright due to his alcoholic capacity. Bottles was outraged at the Bishop's sermon and decided that the Bishop should somehow be brought to time for his remarks.

So, he put together a raiding party of LCA officers who about midnight snuck into the Bishop's cabin...

The conclusion of this short story can be found in St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War, Vol. 1, page 169.

Photo Credit - Archbishop Displays his Breeches

The two volumes of St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War are no longer in print and are also extremely difficult to find on sale in used book stores, but are available on loan from the Canadian War Museum Library in Ottawa through, e.g., your local (Canadian) library.

Link to Short Story, King Neptune Visits Empire Charmian

Short Story, King Neptune Visits Empire Charmian

Neptune Initiates Canadians in "Italian Submarine Waters"

By David Lewis, RCNVR, Combined Ops

HMS Keren. Photo Credit - clydeships.co.uk

Introduction: Though this short story by Albertan D. J. Lewis primarily touches on a strange Navy tradition practiced aboard ships passing over the Equator, it also mentions other matters related to Canadians serving in Combined Operations on their way to HMS Saunders, near Alexandria, and the invasion of Sicily, 1943. [Editor GH]

Neptune Visits Empire Charmian 

In 1943, just when the weather in England  had begun to get nice we left the UK and our dizzy succession of lodgings which had led into many strange places, afloat or ashore, came to a halt. Bill Sinclair and I and a draft of our men boarded a venerable Orient line vessel (not Peninsula and Orient line), HMS Keren, commanded by a well seasoned RNR Commander. We did not know where we were off to, but by now in our Combined Ops careers we did not expect anything except wild stab of humorous guessing for the first week out to sea.

We had boarded the Keren at Gourock. She was a nice old vessel and she conveyed us safely the whole way around the western bulge of Africa with a stop at Freetown... 

We did not know but we were passing through Italian submarine waters and they were quite effective against merchant vessels.* 

[A Footnote was added later by D. Lewis: *Mr. John Fleming of Calgary has provided a document, "The Italian Submarine Campaign" by Professor A. Santoni... On our way to Egypt we were passing through the area allocated to Italian submarine activity, passing down the west coast of Africa and turning the Cape of Good Hope. Thirty-two Italian submarines in three years sank 109 merchant vessels for a total of 593,864 gross tons and damaged four more vessels and a British destroyer. Sixteen submarines were lost.]

We sailed on past the Equator without notice being taken by King Neptune's servants, who must have had the day off as we passed the line unshaved and un-doused. For his part, Stoker Birkenes and those who were aboard the Empire Charmian minding our LCMs, the ceremony was carried out with vigour. The severe ceremonies are illustrated in a picture taken in the course of the long and grizzly rituals. A Court was arranged which was attended by a grimly sad Neptune, Monarch of the Sea, who was to be feted. His Court was assembled confronting  an American LCM (Mark 3) which had been filled up with ocean water. Stoker Len Birkenes describes the ordeal (@ St. Nazaire to Singapore, bottom half of page 156).

Empire Charmian in 1950. Photo Credit - swanseadocks.co.uk

 Above four photos from St. Nazaire to Singapore, pages 157 - 159

"Chuck Levett, member of RCNVR, Combined Ops and 55th Flotilla,

received this authentic certificate for crossing the equator on April 25, 1943"

Courtesy of his widow, Dot Levett, 2012

David Lewis concludes his short story, re Canadians on their way to Egypt, then Sicily, with a final paragraph and informative footnote:

The passage of Douglas Harrison and his shipmates in David Roger's (sic: Rodger's) party on the Silver Walnut has been elegantly described by him. They must have the record for a sitting torpedo target during the innumerable occasions when the S.S. Silver Walnut's engines would not turn. His experiences are commemorated in a series of articles which appeared in the 1993 volumes of the Norwich Gazette. Doug writes with such warmth and concern about his experience circumnavigating Africa that most of the series are included in this volume for interest. (Link to Short Story re Sicily, The Long Way 'Round)

Gradually the flotillas and their craft of the 80th and 81st gathered at HMS Saunders* in the Great Bitter Lakes, midway between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean.

*HMS Saunders was named after Sir Charles Saunders 1713 - 1775. Saunders had seen 32 years of service in the British Navy when he was selected in the French and India war to command the fleet that carried the soldiers of General James Wolfe down the St. Lawrence River in Quebec (1759)...

More details re the earlier passages above and the final footnote can be found on pages 156 - 157 of St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1.  

Please link to Short Story re Sicily, "Keith Beecher's Diary Entries"

Audio re Combined Operations: William Kennedy, Normandy

On LCI(L) 301 (260th Flotilla) in 1944

Please link to an audio file at The Memory Project related to the activities of William Kennedy, from Winnipeg, that touch on memories related to his training and war time experiences aboard an LCI(L) at Normandy, June 1944.

A portion of William Kennedy's transcript follows:

I took an advance course in visual signaling and actually the ship left without me of course. I knew that it was a couple of weeks or whatever it was, I can’t just remember how long, and then I’d seen there was a bulletin at the signal school in Halifax. So I then went over on the [SS] Ile de France to [HMCS]Niobe in Scotland, in Greenock, Scotland, and I forget how many weeks I spent there training and then we took the train, naturally, from Greenock to Southampton [England] and went aboard this landing craft. And that was the LCI (L)-301, the 260th Flotilla.

Photo Caption and Credit - Infantrymen of the North Nova Scotia Highlanders aboard LCI(L) 135 of the 2nd Canadian (262nd RN) Flotilla, 9 May 1944. William Kennedy served in a similar vessel, LCI(L) 301, on D-Day. Lt Gilbert A. Milne / Canada. Dept. of National Defence / Library and Archives Canada / PA-206493

Please link to another Audio re Combined Operations.

Audio re Combined Operations: Richard Norris, Normandy

On LCI (Landing Craft, Infantry) in 1944

Pictured here are LCI (Landing Craft, Infantry) and LST (Landing Ship, Tank)

en route to France across the English Channel, June 1944. Tethered to each

ship are barrage balloons, which offered protection from enemy aircraft

Photo Credit - The Memory Project

Please link to an audio file at The Memory Project related to the activities of Richard Norris, from Summerland, that touch on memories related to his training and war time experiences aboard LCIs at Normandy, June 1944.

A portion of Richard Norris' transcript follows:

They were in the planning stages for the [Normandy] invasion and they were looking for people who could handle small craft in rough seas. And that’s where I think it all emanates from there, it all started there. I guess that’s late in the time or early in the time, they were still trying to put forces together in Combined Operations to do the invasions.

So they were a group, they were a naval, air force and army assault force and they just harassed the enemy any way they could. Of course, it was all leading up to the invasion. It was put together by the Royal Marines. This was who we were under, pretty well supervised, and controlled by the Royal Marines.

We didn’t have a shoulder patch; we were just navy working on landing craft. Our training there was just beaching and troops at night and in the day, and on taking them off, practicing the whole invasion process, and gunnery and all the rest.

Troops from The North Nova Scotia Highlanders on the deck

of their LCI (Landing Craft, Infantry) getting fresh air, along

with their ramp gear and collapsible bicycles in June 1944.

Photo Credit - The Memory Project

Link to another audio file at Audio re Combined Operations.

Short Story re Sicily, "Keith Beecher's Diary Entries"

Diary: 55th Flotilla Landing Craft Assault

By Keith Beecher, LT (E), RCNVR

"Queen Elizabeth": Provenance - David Lewis 

Introduction: "Beecher's diary is daily over 11 months. Selection is only justified by space demands. The diary begins with almost daily entries in Halifax as Sub-LTs (E) Meade Wright and Keith Beecher, graduates of Engineering of McGill University in Montreal, join up. They are posted to Halifax where they are at the base for a year..." As found in St. Nazaire to Singapore by D. J. Lewis, page 147.

Trans. Atlantic Passage: 

The Queen Elizabeth (QE) and her sister ship the Queen Mary (QM) served many years as troop transports. Because of their speed, both ships sailed alone, rather than in convoy. The following is my diary covering the subsequent 15 months. (KB)

Halifax. November 2, 1942 (at sea - RMS Queen Elizabeth):

Fourth day out (On watch on the QE's bridge). We had some excitement today. Lt. Deck and I spotted a submarine periscope off our starboard quarter. We had promised ourselves to be most professional if we saw anything and to act the way they do in movies. However, when I saw the periscope I screamed to the captain who came running out of the wheel house. We had 36 knots to his 18, and ran away from the submarine quite easily...

November 4 (River Clyde - QE):

Everyone up on deck as we sailed up the Clyde. It was a lovely morning and land looked very fine. Unfortunately a fog blew up and we had to lay in the stream all day. Towards evening the fog lifted and we were brought ashore to Greenock in tenders. We were met by a station wagon from the Canadian naval Base, HMCS Niobe, which proved to be a dismal castle-like building about 20 miles from Greenock. We were driven up to the dismal castle for supper and bed...

Introduction to subsequent diary entries: "Beecher is attached to the 55th Flotilla of LCAs which becomes the LSI Otranto's Flotilla (LT. CDR Bob Smith) for the 1943 Mediterranean invasions of Sicily and Italy up to and including Salerno. They must make their journey rounding the Cape of Good Hope as the Mediterranean is still too dangerous in the early spring of 1943 for successful invasion forces to penetrate directly. So commences a circumnavigation of Africa..." As found in St. Nazaire to Singapore by D. J. Lewis, page 148.

1943: Invasion of Sicily. July 5:

Sailed out of Port Said early this morning and spent all day in the Mediterranean steering  a course along the north coast of Africa - sailing through the beautiful blue waters of the mediterranean Sea. Worked like hell all day getting the landing craft squared away for the landing... All of us are scared as hell and walking on tip toes clutching our life belts...

July 6:

Still sailing along the north coast... Worked my heart out all morning - checking the stores in the landing craft again and inspecting the engines and engine rooms - everything seems fine... At sunset Levesque and I went back aft and dumped all our acid overboard since the Staff Commander was worried about it in the event that we were attacked by the Luftwaffe.

July 7:

First excitement this morning when one of the destroyers got an Asdic contact and dropped a pattern of depth charges just off our port quarter and the old ship shuddered all over the place. A couple of enemy reconnaissance planes came over later so I guess we have been sighted... About 30 troop ships are in our convoy and around a dozen Hunt class destroyers and one cruiser - HMS Carlisle.

July 8:

...The coast of North Africa could be seen off our port side all day yesterday, but we left it today as we headed across the Mediterranean towards Sicily...

July 9:

Did last minute check on the landing craft and all seems well... we are now escorted by Corvettes, Sweepers, Cruisers, etc. - the biggest show ever. God turned against us as it blew like hell with a great sea running. Sighted the coast of Sicily around dusk...

July 10:

We dropped anchor off Sicily and lowered our landing craft at 12:30 a.m. for the assault. We lay off about seven miles. It was a beautiful night, stars and the moon setting. Hundreds of our planes flew over and hammered the beaches and later the war ships opened fire - it was an impressive sight. As dawn came, our ship moved closer in and we lay off Pachino about a quarter of a mile. Our LCAs and LCPs ran the troops in for the invasion. There was very little resistance on our beach. We lost two LCAs and the LCP from two shells hitting the gas tanks. However, everyone was on the beach at the time. All the troops were put ashore by noon. We then left and sailed to Malta and all turned in.

July 11 (Sunday):

Arrived in Malta around 5:00 yesterday afternoon. Last night we completed our reports on the operation, turned in and slept like logs...

Some details from the above entries have been omitted. Those and later details (to July 17) from Keith Beecher's diary can be found on pages 147 - 150 at St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War (Vol. 1).

 Please link to Short Story re Sicily, "Four Canadian Flotillas, 1943"

Unattributed Photos by GH

Short Story re Sicily, "Four Canadian Flotillas, 1943"

1943: Detour Around Africa En Route to Sicily and Italy

"On board HMS Keren, Orient Line, of the Fast Convoy"

"On board S.S. Silver Walnut, around Africa to Port Said"

The Expedition of 1943 by David J. Lewis, 
RCNVR, Combined Operations

Canada had four flotillas active during this year. The 55th in the S.S. Otranto and the 61st in S.S. Strathaver in LCAs (Landing Craft Assault). The 80th and 81st were LCMs (Landing Craft Mechanized) - the 80th were born in Mr. Higgins' Diesel Powered Mark IIIs and the 81st in the old British Mark I Petrol LCMs.

Sailing from the Clyde these flotillas all made the trip down and 'round the Cape of Good Hope. There was still little hope for a successful west-east passage through Bomb Alley between Sicily and Tunisia though the situation was to change radically in the course of the year.

Gathering occurred in Port Said and again in the summer capital of Egypt, the Harbour of Alexandria. A huge convoy set off to the west and later altered course northwards to land on the eastern and southern coast of Sicily. The initial attack by water was effected without difficulties. However, airborne attack was seriously defective, costly, and wasteful of life.

What was notable was the careful preparation of maps issued at the Coxswain level with three dimensional views. In summer, in light conditions in the Mediterranean, the attainment of accurate landing was possible.

Above photo/attribution as in St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1, pg. 178

The unloading process was commenced with Canadian LCAs and LCMs. The latter would go on for a month in comparison with the quick in and out of the assault craft and their landing ship carriers. Bombing, however, was now coming from close Axis bases and with little apparent defence. Distant Allied support was rare at first. Dive bombing was tried but the anti-aircraft power of the Allies seemed to force the attacking planes to higher and less accurate levels for bombing, but a lot of shipping was still lost.

Remarkable skill and initiative developed amongst the landing crews who began their marine stevedoring job in July and were not withdrawn until well into August. There was a week of refitting, embittered by strikes of the Maltese dockyard workers and little relief from biological pests.

The LCM Flotillas divided. The 80th landed on the mainland and opened a ferry service from Messina on Sicily to Reggio di Calabria. After a month of severe campaigning they returned via Algiers to the UK.

For their part the 81st, after a period in Malta, left aboard the two aircraft carriers, HMS Formidable and HMS Illustrious to return to the UK via Gibraltar and subsequently to overseas leave in Canada.

The year's achievement can be divided into parts:

     Getting around Africa
     Mustering in Egypt
     The conquest of Sicily
     The invasion of mainland Italy, Italian capitulation
     The extension of the Beachhead up the Italian boot

As mainland ports became available, the job of Combined Operations craft was done for the moment. Crews were given leave and prepared for another major reshuffle.

Above photo as in St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1, pg. 175

Photo Credit - DJL., David J. Lewis

This short story is found on page 142 of St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War, 1941 - 1945, Volume 1.

As well, please link to Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences"

Unattributed Photos by GH

Audio re Combined Operations: Norm Bowen, SICILY

"Smoke pots, throwing them off like crazy"

Infantrymen of Le Royal 22e Régiment board a Landing Craft, Infantry to move

150 miles along the coast at Catanzaro Marina, Italy. 16 September 1943.

Please link to an audio file at The Memory Project related to the activities of Norman Bowen (RCNVR, Comb. Ops, from Ottawa, Ontario) that touch on memories aboard landing craft at Dieppe, North Africa, and Sicily. The sinking of the hospital ship Talamba is also recalled.

A portion of Norm Bowen's transcript follows:

When we went into Sicily there were a bunch of Italians laying landmines and they told them to pick up and they didn’t want to so they started marching them all over the beach. When they stopped they wouldn’t march until we got them picked up. But, no, but then it started. The Stukas were overhead like flies. It just went on and on for days. And as I said before, everybody knew where the bloody beach was and down it came.

Link to another audio file at Audio re Combined Operations

Photo Credit, as listed at The Memory Project - Lieut. Alex M. Stirton / Canada. Dept. of National Defence / Library and Archives Canada

Audio re Combined Operations; Al Kirby, DIEPPE

"We didn't think much about the danger"

Al Kirby, a Canadian at Roseneath, Scotland, 1942

Photo Credit - The Memory Project

Link to five fine photos, including the one above, and an audio file related to the activities of Al Kirby (RCNVR, Comb. Ops, from Woodstock, Ontario) and other Canadians in Combined Operations at The Memory Project.

A portion of Al Kirby's transcript follows:

"At that time, I think I was 18 years old and for me, I was with a special group that they recruited here in Canada. They asked for volunteers to go over to England and drive landing craft in operations against the enemy coastline. And for a kid my age, at 18 years old, that really sounded exciting. We didn’t think much about the danger. To us, it was exciting. And we looked forward to being heroes and all that. I jumped at the chance and away I went over there and we trained with other Royal Navy people who had been conducting raids against the enemy coast all along. And then the Dieppe Raid was our very first chance to actually do it. And we were very excited about it. We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But we quickly got over that cavalier ideal once we were at the receiving end of the enemy fire because it’s one thing to talk about it, but it’s something else to experience it."

Doug Harrison (left) and Al Kirby in Scotland, 1942 - 1943

There are more details one can read about Al Kirby's experiences found in Doug Harrison's memoirs. Please link to Memoirs re Combined Operations

Unattributed Photo by GH

Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences"

COMBINED OPERATIONS IN SICILY AND ITALY

Reminiscences of a Canadian LCM Flotilla Engineer Officer

"Dieppe veterans on Combined Ops maneuvers in the Mediterranean, 1943"

 Back row, left, is Lt. Cdr. Jacob Koyl, mentioned in Part 2.

Author of "Reminiscences"is likely present as well.

The following short story is found in COMBINED OPERATIONS by Londoner Clayton Marks. Though the name of the Engineer Officer is not attached to the story, the Editor assumes he appears in the above photo.

Please use the following links to connect to the full story in three parts:

Part 1 - Settling in at 'HMS Saunders'

Part 2 - The Invasion of Sicily

Part 3 - Respite and Repair in Malta. The Invasion of Italy

Photo Credit - The Memory Project 

As well, please link to Short Story re Sicily, "Monkey Mishap"

Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences" Part 3

COMBINED OPERATIONS IN SICILY AND ITALY

Reminiscences of a Canadian LCM Flotilla Engineer Officer

"Landing craft in Grand Harbour, Malta during World War II"

Photo Credit - Times of Malta

The following excerpt is found in COMBINED OPERATIONS by Londoner Clayton Marks. Though the name of the Engineer Officer is not attached to the story, the Editor assumes he appears in a photo that accompanies Part 2:

Part 3 - Respite and Repair in Malta. The Invasion of Italy

For the Seaman branch the stay in Malta was a holiday, but not so for the maintenance staffs of each Flotilla. After rather hectic negotiations and the cluttering up of signal services with dozens of sane and insane signals it was finally decided to refit craft in the Malta dockyard. I was enjoying the doubtful luck of a stay in hospital at this time but I heard from day to day of progress in underwater and engine repair. It was a colossal job in as much as spares were as scarce as hens' teeth and the war strategy in the Mediterranean called for super speed. The boats were placed in drydock in batches and work proceeded from daylight until midnight with one shift!

In eleven days over one hundred boats were repaired, and though some of the repairs proved defective later, still it was a tremendous effort. Once again the boys came through with the goods when we were in a pinch. This is an outstanding feature of Combined Ops Ratings, they may grumble and grouse when work is slack, but when there is a job to be done, they can be counted on to a man. I was, I think, justifiably proud of the work our Canadian motor mechanics and stokers did in the Malta dockyard. One man momentarily passed out from the terrific heat in an engine room one morning - he carried on for the remainder of the day and didn't report sick till late at night!

While in Malta several malaria, sand-fly fever and cases of desert sores developed. Some were cured in time to sail with us and those that had to remain were sincerely disappointed for after the fall of Sicily it was quite easy to guess our next move would be into Italy itself and they wanted to be in on the mainland job. However we were fortunate in securing eleven Canadian stokers who had recently come from Canada on LCI's.

I was struck by what might be called a 'lion-and- the-mouse' comparison as we moved out of the harbour on the morning of August 27th. One of the Royal Navy's proudest battleships lay at mooring. Surely if ships of her size and grandeur were necessary how puny and frail our fifty-foot boats looked in comparison! Could they both represent a striking force? It looked absurd, and yet the history of Lord Louis Mountbatten's Combined Operations fleet of tiny craft has proven their soundness, aye and well nigh perfection, in carrying our armies to enemy coasts. Even so, the faces of the Sailors on the 'big ship' seemed to be scoffing at our insignificance. However, it is but a fortune of war that the same battle-wagon received severe blows in the Italian invasion and we - well, I'm getting ahead of my story!

"Many Canadians in Combined Ops were involved in Operation AVALANCHE,

the invasion of Italy, September, 1943": Photo Credit - King's Academy

Our trip north was broken the first night at the south eastern tip of Sicily, Cape Passero, for a night's rest. The second stop was the much battered port of Augusta, where we remained for several days. I remember one day here very well. I set out in the morning to obtain a bottle of oxygen and one of acetylene to do some necessary welding. The Base Engineer Officer had used his supply but he thought I could get some from the Army. To do so I would require transport. After going to three transport offices and getting the run around, I finally convinced a Lieutenant Colonel of the urgency of my quest. He supplied a 30 cwt. truck and driver and away we went. On arriving at the place where the supply depot had been we found they had moved about 40 kilometers further on.

Eventually arriving at the depot, I tackled the supply officer. He informed me that another supply Major was the only man who could issue the gas! On the way out to the main road we passed three ten-ton trucks of acetylene and oxygen and I still think the good Lord put them there to encourage me to seek the aforementioned Major! At last he was found about 10 kilos away. Dripping perspiration and with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, it was then 1500, I laid my case. His reply included something about having just supplied a Rear Admiral with forty bottles of each the previous day in Catania, and why couldn't I get mine from said Admiral? I explained that this was already consigned and he reluctantly agreed to my request. But alas, just as I was leaving his tent he told me where to put my empties. It seemed that no full bottles could be issued without return of empties. Now how in hell can a fellow have empties until he has drawn some full ones? The end of the story was that he sticks to his guns and I returned to Augusta at 1800 without any dinner and with a brand new stock of expletives - but one can't operate an acetylene outfit on such gas; even as a wartime measure!

Just before dusk on September 2nd, a large convoy of craft, small and large, stole quietly out of Augusta harbour and headed northward. We steamed all night and beached just before dawn broke, clear and hot. This day was spent in loading the correct serials, numbers given to Army vehicles, in the right craft and sorting out the craft for the various convoys that were to move off that night. Jake spent the afternoon travelling from beach to beach on our motorcycle - acquired legally(?) in the Sicilian operation - briefing the various crews. By evening, all was in readiness. We had supper on the boats, a culinary feat which I defy any housewife to accomplish better than our boys do it, and spent an hour resting on the sand with some of the Army Officers who were to be our passengers. One Scottish Captain said that he had just heard that someone had made a mistake in the night and we were thus going over twenty four hours ahead of the planned artillery barrage! Humour is the greatest single method of keeping morale up to the skies! (By the way, he was wrong!)

Just after dark that night, September 3rd, we left the beach to join our appointed convoy of LCIs, LCTs and LCAs. This convoy was passing at a certain time close inshore but it was like a game of hide and seek to find them. This done, we proceeded up the coast to Milli Marina, where our particular boat was to pick up a Canadian Brigadier and his HQ staff. The beaches along this part of the coast are paradise for landing craft with about a five to one slope, and were well marked with distinguishing lights. The time set for the final stage of the trip was 0300. We knew the plan was to lay down a heavy artillery barrage from the island across the Straits of Messina. Just as we turned from the coast to proceed due east to the Italian toe, the barrage opened up. And what a deafening roar! It was magnificent to say the least, and even a quarter of a mile off-shore we could feel the concussion from the guns.

"Artillery being landed during invasion of Italy at Salerno, September 1943.
Troops bring artillery ashore at Salerno in September 1943. The MP in fore-
ground ducks from a near-by German shell hit. Photo Credit - Wikipedia

By the time we reached mid-channel a fog was settling down and this was turned into a good imitation of London's foggiest weather by the smoke from the exploding shells as we neared the coast. Navigation was difficult, but we managed to keep on the stern of our guiding M.L. With all the racket, plus a general expectation of a heavily opposed landing we expected to hear enemy guns opening up at any minute. Nothing happened - we crept in closer - still nothing but the pounding of our own guns, then one of the Brigadier's wireless sets began to pick up messages. "Red Beach unopposed" and later, "Green Beach unopposed"! By this time we were able to dimly see the outlines of the hills through the smoke and fog. Coming closer still, we could see the troops of the initial wave walking along the beach. By this time invasion craft of every description were milling about. What a sight! On the beach, while the troops were unloading, gay banter could be heard from the boats' crews. And so easy was the first permanent invasion of Europe! How true Churchill's words proved, "We shall strike the soft under-belly of Europe!" Nowhere on the toe were the landings opposed by a single shot, nor was a single enemy plane in sight overhead. But there were planes, ah yes, the faithful Spitfires droned reassuringly as dawn broke.

This was but the initial landing in Italy. Our next job was to act as ferry service across the Straits to keep a steady stream of vehicles and supplies to Monty's Men. This was first done from Teressa and later from beaches north of the Messina harbour. In the latter place we were able to billet the Flotilla in houses close to the beaches. The various crews each had their own Italian boys to clean up after meals and tend to their dhobie (laundry). Pay for this service consisted of 'biscottis'. The work dragged on till once again the monotony of it got the better of nerves at times. Great was the rejoicing when on October 4th after disposing of our craft to Flotillas going to Naples and Toranto we were drafted to a small Combined Ops carrier for passage to North Africa. During our month on the scene of this operation, not a single enemy plane was sighted, with the exception of one or two that got through to the landing beaches on the Italian side. Thus the Sicilian operation proved the most difficult of the two, just the reverse of our expectations. But then this war is a war of surprises isn't it!

In this account I have purposely neglected to mention numerous escapades into Italy. On their days off the Ratings - and Officers, I must confess - did go on the scrounge and sight-seeing. The very tip of the toe of Italy is very similar to Sicily in many ways. Vineyards abound and the people were very friendly. There was one expedition I do remember, when our maintenance staff took a reporter from the Montreal Star on a trip. We landed at Scilla, looked over the town, including the local headquarters of the Fascista and came away with a tiny salute gun on the bow of our maintenance duty boat. We found the gun lying dejectedly on the slanting bridge deck of a partially sunken Messina-Reggio ferry boat. It was one of the many boats the Germans had used to escape across the Straits when they were pushed out of Sicily. It will be many a day before that regular ferry service is resumed, the boats are sunk and Messina itself is a shambles of the first order. Not a single building in the city proper is intact. Everywhere one sees the ravages that modern war metes out to any unfortunate city that lies in its path.

And so for the last time (or will it be the last time?) we saw the shores of Sicily recede in the distance, but we weren't looking back, our eyes and thoughts were to the African coast. It was the first step of our voyage back to England. We landed at D'Jid Jelli where we were placed in a camp on the site of an auxiliary landing field. After a few days, much to the joy of everyone, our journey was resumed, to Algiers, thence to Gibraltar and out into the Atlantic.

Please link to Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences" Part 2

Unattributed Photos by GH

Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences" Part 2

COMBINED OPERATIONS IN SICILY AND ITALY

Reminiscences of a Canadian LCM Flotilla Engineer Officer

"Dieppe veterans on Combined Ops maneuvers in the Mediterranean,

1943" Back row, left, is Lt. Cdr. Jacob Koyl. Author of "Reminiscences"

is likely present also. Photo Credit - The Memory Project

The following excerpt is found in COMBINED OPERATIONS by Londoner Clayton Marks. The name of the Engineer Officer is not attached to the story:

Part 2 - The Invasion of Sicily

The next noon we sailed for the invasion of Sicily. This bold and naked statement only requires a little space to write, but what an unbelievable amount of effort was required in preparation by all concerned; what a perfectly co-ordinated effort from the various branches of the three services and what a SUCCESS! But between the sailing day and 'H' hour, 0230 on the morning of July 10th, many and varied were the speculations as to the place, time, force and bloodiness of the job. It is a very disturbing feeling to be in the midst of a huge convoy headed for an amphibious invasion, knowing only one fact, that an invasion it really is this time and not just another 'exercise'. Experiencing it for the first time I felt keyed up, excited and most of all, just plain scared stiff.

It is interesting to see the different ways that this anxiousness expresses itself in various individuals. Some will remain quiet and talk but very little and then only of things far removed from the scene of the moment, others try to bluff their feelings to their fellows by openly and repeatedly saying how frightened they are of the consequences of the operation, while still others show no outward signs of inward apprehensions. These latter are probably the most scared of the three types, and very frequently the second type succumbs least readily to 'bomb-happiness'. Anyone who has experienced bombing, knows how useless this nervous condition renders one. It is not a pleasant malady to witness.

And so came the time for the briefing of the various Army and Combined Ops units on board. This was preceded by a general outline by the O.C. Troops of the place, extent and more important features of the invasion. Then each unit was very carefully drilled in their individual jobs, with maps, pictures and talks. Excitement runs high at such a time, petty squabbles are forgotten and the men are welded into a force which has one purpose, the execution of the task with the greatest possible speed, thoroughness and efficiency. This purpose held firm until after the big job was done and work slackened off, only then did the Officers and men return in their thoughts and actions to the individuals of 'in-between' days. By this I do not mean that the individual, while in action doesn't retain all-important ability to act quickly and clearly as an individual. It is this fact that so thoroughly distinguishes the Anglo-Saxon combatant from his enemy. Both Italian and German soldiers are not able, or at least do not exhibit the ability, to act individually when their plans "gang aft agley".

'Tis 0215 on July 10th. The ships are on the last zig of a course, which, though full of many zigs and zags, is leading them straight for the southern part of the island of Sicily. The troop carriers have passed the slower merchant ships and are to proceed to within a half a mile from shore and discharge at 0230. A few hours before, the roar of dozens upon dozens of planes had been heard. Our ships' gunners had been warned to hold their fire, for these planes were part of the great scheme and were to carry air-borne troops in gliders. We held our fire, but a combination of heavy weather and enemy interception resulted in the gliders being released, in too many cases, hopelessly far from shore. Though many perished, the first wave of the invasion craft picked many of them up and of the whole glider force, only a small percentage reached their objectives. However, those that did so put up the finest fight in the campaign and have been given credit for capturing and holding several important bridges and other key points.

"Operation Husky: The Sicily Landings 9 - 10 July 1943: An Airborne Division

Horsa glider, after landing off course nose down in a field near Syracuse. Although

unsuccessful in achieving their primary objectives, the Airborne forces did cause

considerable disruption behind the lines." Photo Credit - Histomil

Great was the surprise when almost no opposition was encountered on the beaches themselves. Until late in the afternoon of the first day it was so quiet in fact that one caught oneself doubting if it was the 'real thing', or just an exercise on a huge scale. A swoosh, a whistle and a deafening blast altered this mental indecision instantly and permanently! It was the first visit from the enemy bombers on our section of the beach. It was the first of thirty-three separate and energetic air-raids that were meted out to us in the first four days of our existence on the Island. No one will deny the fact that if the Italian civilians didn't give us a warm welcome, most certainly their air-force, and that of their brother-rogue Germany, did their best to make it a 'warm reception'. Most of the bombing was quite inaccurate, for our anti-aircraft barrage kept the enemy pilots more than occupied. In the twenty-eight days we spent there I only saw three ships sunk. This figure excludes a hospital ship which was deliberately lit up by flares and dive-bombed until it sunk with considerable loss of life.

It was in the second air attack on 'D' day that our Flotilla Officer and his crew narrowly escaped annihilation. Jake* had just beached his boat and was engaged in off-loading the vehicle it carried when a dive-bomber attacked the beach. An LCT was unloading a few yards to port and an LST only a few yards to starboard. The bombs dropped so close to Jake's LCM that the blast carried right over their heads, but completely wiped the bridge of the LST and killed the entire personnel on the LCT, with the exception of one Officer, who was very badly shrapnelled and burned. In a shorter time than it takes to tell, Jake and his boys had their craft off the beach and rushed to pick up injured from the two unfortunate large craft. This occupied them for the remainder of the afternoon and it was to the hospital ship I have already referred to that the wounded were taken. That night she was sunk and the next morning Jake had the gruesome business of taking what few survivors that were still alive from the two instances to another hospital ship. My one and only hope is the crews of the enemy planes that sank the hospital ship stink in the hubs of hell forever and ever! Or should I rather bring my curses onto the heads of those who are responsible for the training of human robots to do such damn brutal and down right cowardly deeds! But all the cursing (it will likely be censored) in the world won't bring back those lads who were twice battered in battle, nor the Sisters, nurses and doctors who lost their lives from such treachery. If we, the Allies, have been guilty of equally deliberate sinkings of German and Italian and Japanese Mercy Ships then on the day of our final victory in this war it will be a hollow, shallow victory indeed.

The next days followed on each others deafening wake with a methodicalness akin to boredom. Yes, in fact each morning for a week or more we were wakened by the scream of bombs and the 'whoomf', 'whoomf' of our own guns. No 'wakie', 'wakie' was required, and each new raid during the day brought our nerves closer to the yielding point. The work of carrying the vehicles and stores and ammunition ashore went on none the less, and when darkness fell on a weary day the total discharge oft o'er shadowed any previous daily record.

During the greater part of our stay in Sicily our Flotilla used an old rock quarry for living quarters for men and Officers. The cave was very large and though it easily satisfied our requirements for space, it was mighty damp and dark. Also it was peopled by a wide variety of 'cave dwellers'. These ranged all the way from rats and mice to lizards, flies, mosquitoes (malaria carrying) and other quadrupeds and insects native to that section of the Island. The first night of our sojourn in the cave I was just in that state between a deep doze and sleep when I felt something tear through my aforementioned beard. I let out a war whoop and jumped at least a hundred feet straight up (well six inches anyway). It was either a rat or a good size lizard! Thenceforth I usually slept with one eye open. My chum, Meade, the engineer from another Flotilla came to visit me one day. I was out, likely 'rabbit' hunting, at the time but our duty hands in the cave, just to show how warm a welcome they could extend to a visiting Officer, produced a first-class gasoline fire. It started from one of the gasoline cookers and spread to containers and in a few moments covered the entire mouth of the cave. In its path it burnt about twenty-five kit bags. One Leading Seaman only salvaged a tie from the charred remains. Until we obtained replacement gear for him he insisted that he would go down to London on leave with the tie as his 'rig'. Others fared not so well and the cave atmosphere fared even worse, for it smelled burned up for days.

Washing both bodies and clothes was a major problem. An adjacent cave contained some fair wash water, but later even this was condemned due to malaria larvae. Soap was very difficult to get and in fact, still is. Sometimes I wonder what has happened to all the soap factories. And if the shortage is due to cargoes lost at sea why isn't the sea water soapy enough to wash in? Oh well, someone will tell us the answer to that one along with, what happens to our mail, who smokes all our gift cigarettes, when will the war be over, what makes women back home so fickle, what beer tastes like, and a few hundred more questions that are earnestly discussed by Officers and Ratings alike whether they be in Combined Ops or the 'dressy' Navy.

An account of this period of our existence (on hard-tack and bully-beef) wouldn't be complete without some mention of the escapades of the lads to near-by villages before they were put out of bounds and sometimes after. We had sufficient hands that after the big rush of the first week or so, we were able to put them into two watches and allow each watch every other twenty-four hours off. Curiosity is a dominant characteristic in C.O. Ratings and it is made even more vigorous by the chance of souvenirs or 'rabbits'. If one returns from a village without something to show for the trip, (no that isn't what I was thinking about!) one's prestige takes a great flop. I will admit that Vino was amongst the articles most highly prized at first and often we were drugged to sleep to the tunes of 'Vino vorblings'.

Vino, the native wine, wasn't the only local product available to us in Sicily. We arrived just in time to cash in on ripe grapes, almonds and lemons in abundance. The grapes were delicious and of a size unequaled even in our fair Niagara Peninsula. So we were one up on the people at home, for once. And in connection with the purchase of such things arose one of the most hotly contested arguments of the trip. Some thought that it would be highly ridiculous that the Sicilians, a conquered people, should have both the nerve and the privilege of asking us, their conquerors, to pay cash for articles we needed. The argument went further, that since the Germans would have taken and taken aplenty at the point of a revolver, why shouldn't we do the same? The counter-argument established the relative innocence of the people concerned and the fact that we at that time, needed to show our superiority to the German troops by playing the game fair and square! I heard this argument in various forms dozens of times and to no definite conclusion, yet I am glad to say that local products were almost always either bought with cash or barter from 'compo' rations.

And in this connection I must say that we found the rural people quite anxious to help us out with fresh vegetables and fruits and eggs when they had them. Did they think it was the wisest course to save their own skins? Probably.

By the first week in August we had daily reports that the beaches would soon be closed and our job finished. However a few ships kept coming in for the port of Catania hadn't fallen 'according to plan' and so we had to unload these vehicles and supplies over the beaches instead. On the ninth Jake received a signal announcing our departure the following day under our own power for Malta. Again speculation was rife as to our further disposal. But the main thing as far as the boys were concerned was that we were to be on the move again and none of us were sorry to relinquish our cave dwelling for the prospects of barracks in Malta. As we sailed away from the beaches where death and destruction had reigned upon us in the early days of the invasion there were sincere sighs of relief to be rid of the place. Little did we dream that in three short weeks we would be coming in sight of the same hills again on our way to Italy!

The voyage to the George Cross Island (Malta) was uneventful and was completed in less time than expected considering the fact that the craft were just about ready to fall apart after a grueling four weeks work. At 1430 on August 10th we slid into Slema Creek to tie up for a well earned rest. Some Naval Officers who saw us approaching the Island told us in the Union Club that evening that the 'armada' of craft as it approached on the horizon was a peculiar sight. Until the mass dissolved into distinguishable boats they thought that it was some new type of ship. And so ended our part of the invasion of Sicily.

Part 3 to follow.

*Jake would be Lt. Cdr. Jacob Koyl, as in the first photo on this page. I assume the writer of this three-part story is one of the bearded officers in the same photo.

Please link to Short Story re Sicily, "An Officer's Reminiscences" Part 1

Unattributed Photos by GH