Monday, April 20, 2015

Passages: Canadians in Combined Ops - Sicily

If the Bullets Had Hit the Gas Cans


"Epus P. Murphy's pet monkey went mad and we put it
in a bag of sand meant to douse incendiary bombs
and threw him over the side"


The following are excerpts from "DAD, WELL DONE", a collection of Navy memoirs and stories by my father, Doug Harrison, Leading Seaman Coxswain (a man of the barges), a Canadian with RCNVR and Combined Operations, 1941- 45.

And Then the Worst Began

   July 10, 1943.
   We arrived off Sicily in the middle of the night
   and stopped about four miles out. Other ships were
   landing troops and new LCIs*, fairly large barges.
   Soldiers went off each side of the foc’sle**,
   down steps into the water and then ashore,
   during which time we saw much tracer fire.
   This was to be our worst yet invasion.

Those left aboard had to wait until daylight
so we went fishing for an hour or more,
but there were no fish.

   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,
   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.

We started unloading supplies with our LCMs***
about a half mile off the beach and then
the worst began - German bombers.
We were bombed 36 times in the first 72 hours -
at dusk, at night, at dawn and all day long, and
they said we had complete command of the air. 
(Page 31)

*landing craft for infantry
**forecastle
***landing craft mechanized


Utter Death and Carnage

   We fired at everything. I saw P38s, German
   and Italian fighters and my first dogfights.
   Stukas blew up working parties on the beach once
   when I was only about one hundred feet out.
   Utter death and carnage.
 
Our American gun crews had nothing but coffee
for three or four days and stayed close to their guns
all the time. I give them credit.

“I was only about one hundred feet out. Utter death and carnage.” 

   Epus P. Murphy’s pet monkey went mad
   and we put it in a bag of sand meant to douse
   incendiary bombs and threw him over the side.
   The Russian Stoker on our ship, named Katanna,
   said Dieppe was never like this and hid under
   a winch. Shrapnel and bombs just rained down.

Lloyd Evans' and pet monkey, on another ship on its way
to Sicily, 1943. Photo credit - L. Evans, Markham 

Once, with our LCM loaded with high octane gas and
a Lorrie, we were heading for the beach when we saw
machine gun bullets stitching the water right towards us.
 
   Fortunately, an LST* loaded with bofors (guns) opened up
   and scared off the planes, or we were gone if the bullets
   had hit the gas cans. I was hiding behind a truck tire,
   so was Joe Watson**. What good would that have done?

Our beach had machine gun nests carved out of the ever-
present limestone, with slots cut in them to cover our beaches.
A few hand grenades tossed in during the night
silenced them forever. (Page 31-32)

*landing ship for tanks
**from Simcoe, Ontario


The Russian Stoker (Bill) Katanna mentioned in the second piece is second from left in above photo. My father is back centre, left of man wearing Navy cap. Katanna's hammock is now housed in the Esquimalt Navy Museum, Vancouver Island. Names of 'men of the barges' aboard the SS Silver Walnut - on its way to the invasion of Sicily - are written upon it.



Unattributed Photos by GH

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