Short Story re Combined Ops, "N. Africa and Reina Del Pacifico"

Operation TORCH and Life Aboard Reina Del Pacifico

By Doug Harrison, RCNVR and Combined Operations

Operation TORCH: American troops land at Arzeu, near Oran, Nov., 1942

Photo credit - Imperial War Museum (IWM)

Reina Del Pacifico Served Well in War Years

[This newspaper column was first published in The Norwich Gazette, circa 1992]

This is the story of a large passenger liner converted to a troop ship called the Reina Del Pacifico which carried 200 Canadian sailors and other personnel back to Liverpool, England after the invasion of North Africa, which started November 8th, 1942.

Buryl McIntyre and I were among the 200 sailors who had worked on our landing craft ferrying troops and army supplies ashore night and day for about a week at a little town south of Oran named Arzew.

During the invasion the Reina Del had acted as a hospital ship which we Canadian sailors could go aboard when tired. We were given excellent food, excellent rum, help to tumble into a hammock where we remained horizontal for many hours. The Reina Del served as a passenger liner again for many years after the war but unfortunately burned about 1970.

Approximately Nov. 14th, 1942 the dark green, two funnel Reina Del lay at anchor at Arzew, and those two funnels were active enough to indicate steam was being brewed in the engine rooms, and she was as anxious as the sailors to head for home. Our landing craft one by one manoeuvred to the gang-plank on the port side of the Reina Del and Canadian sailors waiting for the proper swell of the wave jumped to gang-plank and hurried up the steps and went aboard through the large cargo door. Each one was checked off by name by a Canadian officer standing inside the cargo door, complete with clipboard. The landing craft were now manned by English sailors returning at a later date.

Reina Del Pacifico - Link to Photo Credit

As my turn came to jump aboard the gang-plank, my eye spotted a large unexploded shell imbedded in the side of the ship not far from the officer’s head. I was very tired but not that tired, and inquired of the officer about the unexploded shell and he replied that the Captain had the shell examined and it was a dud. “I sure hope he is right because my mother will miss me, Mr. Wedd,” I said.

Mr. Wedd was dog-tired too and in no mood for an argument. “Your mother will miss you a lot more if you’re not aboard on the next swell, Harrison, because we are leaving. Do you hear me?” He added a bit more which wouldn’t be printed and his ultimatum enabled me to time the swell of the next wave perfectly and I jumped to the gang-planks, and though tired, I found new energy at the cargo door and was soon amidships. The shell never exploded but it was sand-bagged and roped off.

It wasn’t long before the clank of the anchor cable could be heard in the hawse pipe. The anchors stowed, the gang-plank came on board and we were underway and in a few hours steaming at 27 knots (about 33 mph) we were safely inside the submarine nets at Gibraltar. In those few hours we organized bridge and crib tournaments.

The scene at Gibraltar was one of carnage, war at its worst. Nearby were destroyers which had been mauled by bomb and torpedoes, with gaping holes in their sides and deck plating, and some of the large guns were bent and pointed at bizarre angles. Miraculously they floated with pride and here and there steam came from the odd funnel. We thought of what the crews had been through and the fire and heat that had buckled the plates, how anyone could have survived. But Malta had to be fed.

Aboard the Reina Del at Gibraltar the Captain advised us to sleep up top under cover at night and those Canadian sailors who were not taking part in the tournaments became look-outs as we sailed west into the Atlantic alone. Naval tradition prevailed aboard the ship and at 11 o’clock each morning we were given a tot of navy rum which we didn’t have to drink under the watchful eye of some Chief Petty Officer. Buryl McIntyre and I were partners at bridge; we received good cards and placed second in the tournament; there being no main prize it was agreed that whichever team won the rubber of bridge also won their opponents’ tot of rum. Buryl and I slept quite well most nights, but with one eye open and one arm through our Mae West life jackets. Each ship has its own peculiar quirks and sounds; it is the unusual sound that brings sailors awake.

The Captain wished to miss the Bay of Biscay and as we skirted the western edge heading north we ran into a severe electrical storm. Standing well inboard under cover we witnessed the worst electrical display of our lives. Also, it seemed to rain so hard it pounded the sea flat. The ship retained good speed throughout and reached Liverpool safely in about four days.

Liverpool, such a friendly city, has welcomed sailors for centuries and we went ashore soon after our arrival to a seaman’s home, a large, warm, clean barrack-like building with good food, showers, and cots with white sheets and pillow cases. Heaven! Soon mail arrived and I can still see myself and my friends discarding our boots and stretching out on the cots to read the latest from home. Everything went quiet until someone shouted, “Hey guys, get a load of this!”

“Pipe down!” The old familiar phrase. “Read it to us later!”

We shared our parcels with anyone who may have missed out and showed new photos all around. Although we had shore leave, many chose to stay where we were, get some rest, and write some letters home. We did not see the Reina Del Pacifico again. One evening she slipped quietly away, but I for one have never forgotten her, our home for a few short days.

*   *   *   *   * 

The following story, from Doug Harrison's Navy memoirs, again mentions activity related to Operation TORCH and times aboard the Reina Del Pacifico.

What a Sight to Behold

My group went through much more training at H.M.S. Quebec and then we entrained for Liverpool. Prominent pub was The Crown in Wallasey. We left Greenock in October, 1942 with our LCMs aboard a ship called Derwentdale, sister ship to Ennerdale. She was an oil tanker and the food was short and the mess decks where we ate were full of eighteen inch oil pipes. The 80th and 81st flotillas, as we are now called, were split between the Derwentdale and Ennerdale in convoy, and little did we know we were bound for North Africa.

I became an A/B Seaman (Able-bodied) on this trip and passed my exams classed very good. The food aboard was porridge and kippers for break-fast, portioned out with a scale. We would plead for just one more kipper from the English Chief Petty Officer, and when he gave it to us we chucked it all over the side because the kippers were unfit to eat.

We had American soldiers aboard and an Italian in our mess who had been a cook before the war. He drew our daily rations and prepared the meal (dinner) and had it cooked in the ship’s galley. He had the ability to make a little food go a long way and saved us from starvation. Supper I can’t remember, but I know the bread was moldy and if the ship’s crew hadn’t handed us out bread we would have been worse off. We used to semaphore with flags to the Ennerdale to see how they were eating; they were eating steak. One of the crew cheered us up and said, “Never mind, boys. There will be more food going back. There won’t be as many of us left after the invasion.” Cheerful fellow. However, we returned aboard another ship to England, the Reina Del Pacifico, a passenger liner, and we nicknamed the Derwentdale the H.M.S. Starvation.

In the convoy close to us was a converted merchant ship which was now an air craft carrier. They had a relatively short deck for taking off, and one day when they were practicing taking off and landing a Swordfish aircraft failed to get up enough speed and rolled off the stern and, along with the pilot, disappeared immediately. No effort was made to search, we just kept on.

One November morning the huge convoy, perhaps 500 ships, entered the Mediterranean Sea through the Strait of Gibraltar. It was a nice sun-shiny day... what a sight to behold.

Troops climb into landing craft, manned by Canadians, from Reina Del 

Pacifico during landings in North Africa, Nov. 1942. Photo credit - IWM 

On November 11, 1942 the Derwentdale dropped anchor off Arzew in North Africa and different ships were distributed at different intervals along the vast coast. My LCM had the leading officer aboard, another seaman besides me, along with a stoker and Coxswain. At around midnight over the sides went the LCMs, ours with a bulldozer and heavy mesh wire, and about 500 feet from shore we ran aground. When morning came we were still there, as big as life and all alone, while everyone else was working like bees.

There was little or no resistance, only snipers, and I kept behind the bulldozer blade when they opened up at us. We were towed off eventually and landed in another spot, and once the bulldozer was unloaded the shuttle service began. For ‘ship to shore’ service we were loaded with five gallon jerry cans of gasoline. I worked 92 hours straight and I ate nothing except for some grapefruit juice I stole. 

Doug Harrison (centre) watches as troops and ammunition come ashore on LCAs at

Arzeu in Algeria during Operation 'Torch', November 1942. Photo credit - IWM 

Our Coxswain was L/S Jack Dean of Toronto and our officer was Lt. McDonald RNR. After the 92 hours my officer said, “Well done. An excellent job, Harrison. Go to Reina Del Pacifico and rest.” But first the Americans brought in a half track (they found out snipers were in a train station) and shelled the building to the ground level. No more snipers. I then had to climb hand over hand up a large hawser (braided rope) to reach the hand rail of Reina Del Pacifico and here my weakness showed itself.

I got to the hand rail completely exhausted and couldn’t let one hand go to grab the rail or I would have fallen forty feet into an LCM bobbing below. I managed to nod my head at a cook in a Petty Officer’s uniform and he hauled me in. My throat was so dry I only managed to say, “Thanks, you saved my life.”

The Reina was a ship purposely for fellows like me who were tired out, and I was fed everything good, given a big tot of rum and placed in a hammock. I slept the clock around twice - 24 hours - then went back to work. In seven days I went back aboard the Reina Del and headed for Gibraltar to regroup for the trip back to England. During the trip I noticed the ship carried an unexploded three inch shell in her side all the way back to England.

Just outside Gibraltar, Ettrick was torpedoed in her side and sank, and one rating from Ingersoll, Ontario was among those killed. She took four hours to sink and many were saved. We arrived in England without trouble. Our ship was fast, could do about 22 knots per hour, a knot being one mile and a fifth per hour. (I am going to leave my memories about hilarious occasions during leaves I enjoyed until last.)

Please link to Short Story re "North Africa, S. S. Clan MacTaggart"

Context for Combined Ops, "Canadians Hit St. Nazaire"

Canadian Airmen Help Hammer a U-boat Source

Wellington bombers in formation. Photo credit - brave bombers, express.co.uk

In March 28, 1942, a few Canadians in RCNVR (and possibly in Combined Operations) were involved in the successful but costly raid on St. Nazaire (France) aimed at putting a very large dry dock out of working order. The dry dock was a significant target because it was large enough to service and repair Germany's largest battleship, the Tirpitz. With St. Nazaire out of working order, Tirpitz's range (and subsequent damage it could do to Allied shipping) would be limited.

An newspaper article published on January 10, 1942 in The Halifax Herald informs us that the German submarine pens at St. Nazaire were targets as well. It follows, with a connection to Canadians in action.

 Nova Scotians Help Pound St. Nazaire

London, Jan. 9 -- CP -- Canadian airmen, flying over 600 miles of land and sea in below zero weather, raided the Nazi base of St. Nazaire on the French coast two nights ago to hammer one U-boat source and thereby aid the Battle of the Atlantic.

The airmen, telling the story of the raid tonight, said tons of bombs were dropped and big fires were started despite heavy enemy opposition.

Members of the Royal Canadian Air Force Wellington squadron under Wing Cmdr. R. M. Fenwick-Wilson of Rock Creek, B.C., which has seen a lot of action lately, carried out the raid in weather they described as "treacherously cold" with heavy clouds and fog over their target.

"I could see the fires 20 minutes after we left," said Sgt. G. R. Montgomery of Chapleau, Ont., who was rear gunner aboard one of the big twin-engined bombers.

Two Type VIIs undergo refit in the massive U-boat pens in

St. Nazaire, occupied France. Photo credit - U-Boat Aces

More Searchlights -

Sqdn. Ldr. John Fauquier of Ottawa, a former bush pilot and flying instructor at Trenton, said he saw more searchlights over France than he had ever seen before.

"They sure were throwing up flak when we reached St. Nazaire," he said. "To add to the party there were plenty of aircraft about. One passed right over my head. When we bombed they shoved up the stuff at us. There were a number of fires burning when we left."

Sgt. H. M. Lascelle of Toronto, rear gunner in a Wellington piloted by Sqdn. Ldr. W. B. Keddy, D.F.C., of Burnside, Nova Scotia, saw a white fire start just as his bombs dropped from his aircraft.

All the Canadians on the raid told of fires they saw started. They included Sgt. F. J. Tatro, wireless operator-air gunner of Toronto, Sgt. R. L. Turnbull, Digby, and Sgt. W. H. Baldwin of Ottawa.

Fauquier, Tatro and Turnbull participated in the big raid on Emden Dec. 29 last in which many fires were started.

Link here for Short Story re St. Nazaire, "Code name CHARIOT, 1942"

Please link to Context for Combined Ops, "Training in Commando Work"

Unattributed Photos GH

Short Story re St. Nazaire, "Code name CHARIOT, 1942"

St. Nazaire - Code name CHARIOT, March 28, 1942

By John O'Rourke, LT, RCNVR

Combined Operations Memorial Plaque, HMS Quebec, Inveraray Scotland

The list of battle honours

St. Nazaire - CHARIOT

March 27 - 28, 1942: St. Nazaire was hailed as "The Greatest Raid of All" by G. E. Lucas Phillips... The death toll amounted to 169... five Victoria Crosses (were awarded), two of them posthumous... the aims were achieved completely by the loss to the Germans of the only Atlantic dock that could accommodate their largest and most powerful battleship, the Tirpitz, and a number of submarine facilities. At least four Canadians participated...

The British fleet consisted of three destroyers... the third was HMS Campbeltown... her funnels were cut down to give her the appearance of a German subchaser. She would ram the gates of the super dock built for the super passenger liner Normandie. Operational Headquarters was to be MGB 314 and to this were added one MTB and 17 MLs... This flotilla sailed from Falmouth, Cornwall, with the Hunts towing the MLs for the 500 mile journey. They were not detected as they rounded the Brest promontory and entered the Bay of Biscay and then the estuary of the Loire River...

Caption (in part): MGB 314, which lead the attack into St. Nazaire harbour.

The foc'sle Pom Pom is where AB Savage (was killed and ) won his VC. Only three

of the 18 craft made it back to England. Photo - St. Nazaire to Singapore, Pg. 36

MGB 314 lead the little armada. It was followed by the Campbelton. The MLs formed up in two lines ahead flanking them... The MLs (wooden) were laden with Commandos and extra gasoline tanks. An RAF raid provided some sky-borne distraction and the naval force was not recognized by the shore batteries of the Germans. Then a challenge rang out. A fake reply was answered back by a German speaking RN signaller. It was five minutes after that that the ruse was seen through and a hellish din lit up the night to which all the vessels of the invading force responded by hauling down a german flag and hoisting the White Ensign and firing at every light point in the night... 

The Captain of the Campbelton pressed on at full speed and rammed the gates of the great dry dock at twenty knots... The Campbelton had been filled forward with four and a quarter tons of depth charge explosives. The fuses were lit which would explode the charge the following afternoon...

Photo and caption as found in St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol 1 Pg. 35

David J. Lewis, the Editor of St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol 1, adds the following note (in part) at the end of O'Rourke's story: To continue the story in St. Nazaire, it became obvious that Campbelton evoked a great interest amongst the Germans of high and low rank. Hundreds visited and many were on board when she blew up the following afternoon...

Please read the full account and final thoughts by Canadians John O'Rourke and David Lewis at St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1, pages 37 - 38.

Please link to Short Story re Italy, "Operation AVALANCHE"

Unattributed photos by GH

Context for Combined Ops, "Training in Commando Work"

Early Days for Canadians in Combined Operations, 1942

As found in The Halifax Herald, January 10, 1942

In early 1942, the first draft of RCNVR seamen who had also volunteered for special duties overseas with Combined Operations lined up to board the Dutch liner Volendam. They did so behind the Nova Scotian Hotel (now the Westin Nova Scotian Hotel) in Halifax. One young Canadian sailor recalled in his memoirs that "the Dutch captain lined us all up and assured us we would arrive safely because the Volendam had already taken three torpedoes and lived to sail. This was very heartening news for those of us who had never been to sea except for a few hours in Halifax upon a mine-sweeper."

The 90 seamen (approx.) were bound for Greenock, Scotland and more rigorous training, this time upon landing crafts, occasionally with Commandos. Their curiosity and knowledge related to what was to come could easily have been influenced by items found in the January 10 issue of The Halifax Herald.

For example:

Train Nova Scotians As Commandos

Somewhere in Scotland

Jan. 9 - CP - A group of 41 young Canadian officers have completed a month's training in Commando work which has left them hardened and prepared for any tough assignment. 

At a special training centre in the Highlands, these officers, from every Canadian infantry regiment overseas, learned in a four-week course the basic principles drilled into Commando troops, the vanguard of Britain's invasion army.

The Canucks learned to make assault landing from naval craft, to storm cliffs and beaches, to fight at close quarters with grenades, small arms and cold steel and to live off the land in rugged country.

Commandos use fighting knives during close-quarter combat practice in Scotland

Photo credit - Commando Training

They went through mimic attacks under fire of grenades, small arms and machine-guns and on hardening manoeuvres ate jerked meat, squirrel, birds and herbs as they practised woodcraft along Highland glens that in centuries past were the haunts of Scottish clansmen. Probably the outstanding Commando student was Lieut. Eric Forgrave of St. Johns, Que. Other officers included Lieuts. Frank Hiltz and F. W. Oxley of Halifax and H. M. MacLeod of Sydney, Nova Scotia.

And the Mighty Oak

Other news took very positive forms. Perhaps too positive?

A report from the same issue says, the Moscow radio jubilantly proclaimed: "The enemy (German troops) continues to retreat in many sectors of the front, losing a great number of men, tanks, trucks and guns. The initiative has been torn out of the enemy's hands. The German machine is broken!"

Further on in the same report one reads: The German campaign has been poorly planned from the beginning (Gen. Wladyslaw Sikorski, Polish premier) declared, "and now Germany is having to pay for it. The carelessness of Hitler has been so great," he went on, "that I would not be surprised if he had failed to prepare any defence lines in his rear."

An earlier editorial cartoon (by only a few days) revealed a mighty oak with muscular branches closing in on the three Axis leaders.

And still the war went on, demanding the energies of Allied forces on many fronts for more than two and a half more years.

Please link to Short Story re "Early Days in Combined Ops" Part 2 - From the Queen of Bermuda to the Volendam

Please link to more Context for Combined Ops, "Uncle Sam's Merchant Fleet"

Video re Combined Ops, "U.S. Troops in N. Africa"

Videos Provide Some Context and Flavour

American troops step into landing craft assault (LCAs) manned by Canadians from

a doorway in the side of the liner REINA DEL PACIFICO. Photo - WW2Today

The website entitled Critical Past has a deep catalogue of videos (thousands) and still images (millions), and many concern World War 2 and events and locations in which Canadians in Combined Operations were whole-heartedly involved. Though a price tag is attached to high-resolution videos and stock images, the public will find access to the same material, though in low-resolution and with the website's title displayed in the centre - distracting, but free.

Link to "U.S. Troops in North Africa" - U.S. troops carrying their necessary supplies embark a transport ship and unload supplies at a harbor in North Africa.

Synopsis: U.S. troops board transports bound for Africa during World War II... The troops embark a transport ship... American and British convoys rendezvous near Gibraltar... A gunner aboard a ship keeps a watch on the sea and the sky...  The troops in a barge which is lowered. They unload the barge at a harbor. Barges approach the harbor. U.S. trucks and tanks are unloaded at the harbor... Equipment is massed on beaches.

Location: North Africa
Date: 1942
Duration: 4 min 31 sec
Sound: Yes

U.S. troops landing with Higgins assault boats on a beach in

French Morocco, November 1942. Photo at Britannica

Caption continued: By November 1942 the Allies had begun to secure the Atlantic. Stalin was demanding the opening of a second front against Germany to relieve the pressure on Russia. Britain and America were not yet prepared for a major continental invasion, so a compromise was reached in the North Africa campaign. The Allies landed on November 8, forced the capitulation of the Vichy regimes in Morocco and Algeria, and drove eastward against Rommel’s German army.

Link to Websites re Combined Operations. The first link encountered there provides access to a 24-minute video re Beach Organization, prior to invasion of Sicily.

Context for Combined Ops, "Uncle Sam's Merchant Fleet"

Uncle Sam Adds Muscle & Canadian Observer Spots Deadly Mine

Caption for above photograph: Here is the first picture showing arming of American merchant ships in conformity with Congressional action which revised neutrality act. Deck gun is being lowered into position at Hoboken, N.J., on one of first U.S. merchant vessels to be armed by Navy. (As found in The Halifax Herald, November 29, 1941)

In late 1941, very near the time new recruits in the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve (at HMS Stadacona, Halifax) became Canada's first volunteers for hazardous duties overseas with Combined Operations, they may have heard the buzz about these items found in a local newspaper.

Deadly Mine Found By Observer

By Arthur Merkel, Canadian Press Staff Writer

HALIFAX, Nov. 28 - (CP) - A deadly mine which possibly drifted across the Atlantic from the coast of warring Europe nosed into an isolated Newfoundland cove not so long ago.

An official observer of the Royal Canadian Air Force's aircraft detection corps (who) promptly notified his reporting centre of the lethal visitor, said he moored it down safely and asked for instructions. He was told that a naval unit would proceed to the spot and dispose of the mine.

A short time elapsed and another message came in from the isolated observer: "Never mind naval unit. Have disposed of mine myself."

Tells of Mine Incident

Flt. Lt. E. B. Goodspeed, air detection officer of the R.C.A.F. told the story as an example of the enthusiasm displayed and varied tasks performed by the 2,000 civilians operating without remuneration as official observers for the A.D.C. in Eastern Canada and Newfoundland.

The mine incident is but one of many bright spots in Flt. Lt. Goodspeed's two years of service organizing and directing the A.D.C. He figures the observer was consumed with curiosity about the mine and, rather than wait  for the navy to arrive, set about to find out what made the thing work. Probably he removed a couple of harmless knobs, lifted a section out of the ship-wrecker and made it harmless by removing its batteries.

(In Ottawa Sunday night, the navy warned civilians against tampering with mines or other objects which might drift ashore. Persons sighting such an object, it advised, should report it to authorities and "until the arrival of someone qualified to deal with the object, the public should be kept as far away from it as possible.")

(As found in The Halifax Herald, November 29, 1941)

Please link to Context for Combined Ops, "Nova Scotia on Alert, 1941"

Context for Combined Ops, "Nova Scotia on Alert, 1941"

Newspapers Create a Buzz While Men Train in RCNVR

As published in The Halifax Herald, November 24, 1941

In November, 1941, raw recruits in the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve at HMS Stadacona, Halifax (very near the time they also volunteered for "special duties oversea" with Combined Operations) would have completed their training exercises while the following news items were published in one of the local papers.

Caption for above photograph: A keen-eyed shore fisherman scans the sea for the tell-tale "white feather" of foam which a submarine's periscope leaves behind as it cuts through the water, and for Axis bombers approaching Canada. The coast watch for enemy planes and naval vessels has been extensively organized it was revealed today, and 750 civilian watchers, serving without remuneration, are on duty in Nova Scotia alone, with many others elsewhere in the Maritime Provinces, Newfoundland and Labrador.

Somewhere on the Nova Scotia Coast

By Arthur Merkel, Canadian Press Staff Writer

HALIFAX, Nov. 26 - (CP) - The Royal Canadian Air Force permitted disclosure today that a force of 2,000 civilians scattered throughout Eastern Canada and newfoundland has been trained in the job of speedily reporting any suspicious aircraft or naval vessels in their districts.

This disclosure, coming some two weeks after Navy Minister MacDonald's statement that German U-boats have been operating within sight of the Newfoundland coast and a warning by Vice-Admiral Percy Nelles that enemy submarines might soon be operating off Canada, stressed the importance of the work of these volunteer observers in the Dominion's defence set-up...

The observers are concentrated chiefly in Nova Scotia, where there are approximately 750, in Newfoundland, with better than 500, and throughout New Brunswick and prince Edward Island. Others operating for the Eastern Air Command are located in Quebec, along the Labrador coast, and in northern sections of Ontario and Manitoba, principally around Hudson Bay. In addition, vessels with ship-to-shore radio communication also act as observers. Operating for the Western Air Command of the Royal Canadian Air Force is another branch of this corps of observers, stationed west of Manitoba.

In selecting its observers, the corps was governed in its choice of posts by the availability of speedy communications - telephone, telegraph or wireless....

For a related article, please link to Short Story re "Early Days in Combined Ops" Part 1

Photos from The Halifax Herald, November 1941

Training for Combined Operations - Sites and Stories, WW2

The First Dark Night - Training in Irvine Scotland, 1942

By Doug Harrison, RCNVR and Combined Operations, 1941 - 1945

American troops on board a landing craft going in to

land at Oran, November 1942. Photo - Wikipedia

EXERCISE SCHUYT 1 -

MAROONED ON A SUBMERGED SAND BAR

It was so damn dark. “Keep closed up!” I can still hear Andy Wedd’s voice to this day. (I am glad I saw him shortly before his death.)

At the night exercise the time of arrival was midnight. The crew was Koyl, Art Bailey, Stoker Lank (and his pail - Stoker Willard Lank was always chewing kelp) and myself with a full complement of English soldiers. Believe me, these fellows were sick soldiers. Bailey and I lashed ourselves down as best we could and emptied the helmets as the soldiers handed them up. Destination or landing, I don’t remember. Troon? I can remember two perimeter lights vaguely in the distance.

We were perhaps headed south and it was rough (the following or all of this is true). Our craft ran aground on a sand bar. Koyl ordered everybody - Bailey and I and himself - overboard to look or tread for deeper water. First we tried rocking the craft in conjunction with the motors. No luck. Wandering in sea boots, underwear, duffel coats, I fell into deeper water (which wasn’t too cold fortunately) and hollered, “Over here, sir!”

So we worked our asses off to free the ALC and we were successful. The soldiers helped to rock the craft. Koyl’s fuming, “We are going to be late!” And he is flotilla commander. Bailey and Koyl were able to get aboard. I wasn’t and they drove off and left me out in the water.

I was scared, But I felt I knew Mr. Koyl. I discarded all my clothing but uniform pants and underwear, found a sandbar and waited it out. They made their landing eventually but.... How is he going to find me (this is unbelievable)? I thrashed my arms, swam on my back for short stints to maintain circulation and after an eternity I saw an Aldis lamp blinking.

Motors were cut, then revved up, then cut. Koyl had a fair idea perhaps but I don’t know how he knew where to locate me. Eventually our voices came reasonably close together. I was caught in the light of the Aldis lamp and picked up after one and a half or two hours waiting. My hands were all wrinkled. I felt all in.

When we returned to Irvine Koyl, Bailey and I hurried to a local pub (now known as the Harbour Light). We were given hot porridge, rum and our clothes were taken to be dried and we were wrapped in blankets. All of this help came from ladies. It was late afternoon before we left the pub - Royal Sovereign or King George? I was a very lucky fellow. In the darkness Koyl and Bailey took awhile before they missed me. I didn’t really know what went amiss but the fact that the landing had to be made on time was uppermost in Koyl’s* mind.

Editor's Notes - Here is the full caption that appears under the above old photo attached to Doug Harrison's story as found in St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1, page 46: The Public House, the King’s Arms, where the Skinner family revived Doug Harrison and the rest of Jack Koyl’s boat crew. They used hot drinks, hot porridge and hot blankets. [Pub’s name has been changed, perhaps in honour of the occasion to “The Harbour Lights”]

I believe the photo and caption above were added to my father's story by David Lewis in the 1990s - to help clarify the name of the Scottish pub - as St. Nazaire to Singapore, Volume 1 was prepared for printing. I have learned the men met at the home of Clayton Marks in London, Ontario - and likely exchanged stories and information - and I have added this note to further clarify the situation: I visited Irvine, Scotland in October, 2014 and visited both the long-standing Harbour Lights (formerly known as the Victoria Hotel) and King's Arms Hotel. The Harbour Lights was formerly owned by John and Mary Burns and the King's Arms Hotel, owned in 2014 by the Scott family, was formerly owned by the Skinners, a family both mentioned by David Lewis and my father (in another story) as the ones who helped out the tired ALC crew. So, of all the names tossed about, the King's Arms Hotel is definitely the best fit, and its name was never changed "in honour of the occasion."

My father was guessing at the name when he says, "It was late afternoon before we left the pub - Royal Sovereign or King George?" and both were good guesses. It is also fair to say that the Canadians in Combined Ops, staying at Camp Auchengate just two miles south of Irvine, also visited Harbour Lights or the Victoria Hotel on a number of occasions, as it is conveniently situated near Irvine harbour's mouth. I am looking forward to another pint with the friendly members of the Scott family, and remembering - with glass raised - that once, wet and worn, my father fell into the King's Arms and was warmed by the Skinners.

*Koyl was very likely in a great hurry because a great crowd of dignitaries (including King George, Winston Churchill and Lord Louis Mountbatten) were watching the action - likely prior to the Dieppe Raid or invasion of North Africa, 1942.

In St. Nazaire to Singapore, Volume 1, page 42 I read the following: The Schuyts were the biggest exercises thus far manned by Combined Operations. In conception and organization they were planting the seed that matured on D-Day. The exercise troops were loaded from the mainland and great excitement was present since the beaches would be attended by dignitaries including King George VI, Winston Churchill and our new chief, Lord Louis Mountbatten. They had assembled to witness The Shape of Things to Come. Doug Harrison's account begins in the middle of the first dark night. We planned to surprise the enemy and of course there were some surprises for us too.

Please link to Training for Combined Operations - Training Sites in Canada

Unattributed Photos GH

Article re Combined Ops, "We Chattered All the Way Home"

Canadian Sailors Trained on Landing Craft Near Irvine

By Doug Harrison, RCNVR and Combined Operations, 1941 - 1945

"Canadians in Comb. Ops trained in Irvine and Inveraray"

The following story is part of a news article that was published in The Norwich Gazette in the early 1990s.

"We Chattered All the Way Home"

I am fond of Scottish people and of Scotland. I got to know many of them first hand during my navy training in various places in Scotland during WWII. They were kind, caring and generous people. When asking directions of them, more than once they jumped on the tram and went part way with me to make sure I reached my destination.

We ninety or so Canadian sailors trained on landing craft on the Firth of Clyde near Irvine in early 1942. In the evening we returned with our craft to tie up at the low sea wall on Harbour Street. The ladies on that street must have kept an eye on us as we came up the channel because on more than one occasion they greeted us at the sea wall with hot tea and freshly baked cookies or scones. They were "Angels from heaven." When we left Irvine we passed the navy hat for the ladies.

"Harbour St. and seawall is home to beautiful Scottish views. 2014"

"My father likely parked himself here in 1942. I did in 2014": Editor

After one particularly long, cold, wet day when we returned to Harbour Street, I said to the Coxswain (I remember it well), "I don't know what you're going to do, Stan, but I know what I'm going to do. I'm taking my attache case and going ashore, and the first person I meet I'm going to ask where I can get a bath and shave and something for my stomach."

I was oily, wet, grubby, and so hungry I could have eaten a horse. I was just a bit homesick too. In navy tongue I was "chock-a-block," Before he could say no (it wouldn't have mattered) I was over the sea wall and walking up Harbour Street, attache case in hand. I'll bet I was a sight in sea boots, dirty duffle coat, beard, hat all askew, and my mood showing all over my face. (An officer would have had to salute me that day).

I soon met three girls of about 18 - 19 years of age. True to my word and without a quiver, I stopped and asked them if they could tell me where I could get cleaned up and something to eat. They said without hesitation that they sure could, and with that they turned about, linked my arms with theirs, and took me to their home. We chattered all the way. There were two sisters and a friend.

By the time I got cleaned up and ate what was their family rations, it was time to return to the landing craft. However, I was invited by the mother to sleep there for the night. I was so tired that K.R. and A.I. (King Regulations and Admiralty Instructions) didn't matter that night. I slept that night in a lot better mood, between clean sheets.

I never tipped my hand to any of my comrades about my good fortune until a long time afterward, because I slept there several nights. I am still in touch with the two sisters and (my wife Edith and I) stay at the home of one of the sisters and her husband when we are in Scotland. In 1986 Edith and I journeyed back to Irvine in Ayrshire: truly it was like going home to me, it wasn't a bit strange even after more than forty years.

"The two Cricksmere sisters and family lived at 22 Waterside Street, Irvine"

Link to Article re Combined Ops, "Friends Reunite After WW2"

Photos GH

Article re Combined Ops, "Friends Reunite After WW2"

"Their Group was a Happy Bunch"

The following article was published in The Norwich Gazette in August, 1990:

Friends Reunited After 47 Years

Last week, two friends were reunited after 47 years. Doug Harrison, of Norwich, happily shook hands and embraced Hugh Houston. a man who shared a large part of Doug's life during the war years.

Between October 1942 and December 1943 (that time span would include three D-Days, i.e., the invasions of North Africa, Sicily and Italy - Editor), Doug and Hugh fought together for the Royal Navy, Combined Operations. Although they were not always side by side, as Doug was in the Seaman Branch and ugh in the Engineering Branch, a life long relationship was formed. Over 47 years passed without contact, but still that tie exists.

"There was a bond forged in war in our particular group that will never be broken," explained Mr. Harrison.

Within moments of meeting, the two were dusting off memories. Stories flew back and forth, starting with remember when...



The enthusiasm of fighting for your country overshadowed all other concerns for both men in the beginning. "We went over totally green," says Doug. "We knew nothing of winds, tides, and dark of night." But they learned quickly. Food, of course, was at a premium. During the times there were no rations, the men ate what they could steal.

Hugh recalled a time where they spotted some cows grazing. One of the men with them at the time insisted he knew how to butcher a cow. With mouths watering for real food, the men planned a way to steal the cow and get it back on the ship to be butchered and enjoyed. This unauthorized operation was almost ready to be put into action when the siren rang out calling all men to their posts for active duty. With a last look to the cow the men trotted off hungry but ready to fight again.

Doug remembered an instance where he came across a carton of rum bound for the officers (in Sicily - Editor). Starving with hunger and suffering for lack of fresh water to drink, the men smuggled the rum to the beach where they sat at night knocking back the bottles. The rum was both food and drink for that day for those men.

Although none of these men were thieves, survival forced them into this temporary lifestyle. Drinking water was often difficult to find. Hugh explained that all suffered from dysentery and something as common as bread would not be tasted for as long as three months at a time. Hugh remembers stealing a half can of evaporated milk. It seemed like a gold mine until he drank the bad milk and ended up horribly ill.

It was common for these men to wear the same clothing for more than a month without having them washed. Out of pure desperation they once sent their laundry to some of the local women for cleaning. When the package of laundry was returned more than half was missing. The following day children were seen running around the village in the mysteriously disappearing khakis.

Dealing with the locals when they put into a friendly port was almost always an unusual experience, according to Doug. He once set up a little first aid stand to help treat the sores and cuts of the children. It seemed like a wonderful idea until the pregnant women started showing up for medical care. At that point Doug and his friend packed up their creams and salves and hustled it back to the ship.

The many hardships endured by these men during the war are difficult for those who weren't there to imagine. Sleeping in caves, sharing living space with rats, going without food and water and fighting the ravaging effects of dysentery became part of their day to day life. Add on top of all of this the reason for being there and it makes you wonder how anyone survived.

Strangely enough, Hugh described their group as a "happy bunch." They became everything to one another; family, friend and lifesaver.

"We had a goal," says Hugh. "We had to win the war. To do this, we had to work together. It was all about friendship and looking after each other."

These were the feelings that brought these men together, the ties that bind them no matter how many years pass without contact. This is what motivates men like Doug and Hugh to be together again. These ties will last until the last man with these memories no longer exists.

To see earlier photos of Hugh Houston link to "Rest and Repair, Malta 1943"

As well. please link to Articles re Combined Ops, "Landing Craft in Malta"

Unattributed Photos GH

Short Story re Italy, "Operation AVALANCHE"

SALERNO

OPERATION AVALANCHE, September 9, 1943

Salerno, at the mouth of the River Sele

On September 11th the British landed unopposed in the harbour at Taranto, but Salerno was a far tougher nut. Apart from Dieppe, which was a special case, it was the first seriously opposed landing that we had ventured on, and there was a period when it was near to failing altogether.

The date selected for Avalanche was the 9th of September. The Italian request for an armistice was made public on the evening of the 8th, which led some of the more ill-advised among the troops, despite warnings, to expect something like a walkover. Top level arguments, and the consequent lower level adjustments, were still continuing when the first and slowest elements of the invasion force crept out from their bases and set their course for Salerno. Sixteen separate convoys sailed from five separate ports on six different dates, according to their speed and port of origin. There were several air attacks on passage, but the total damage was negligible; it amounted to only one LCT sunk, one Hunt Class destroyer damaged by a near miss, and one LST damaged by a bomb which passed clean through her without exploding. The last two reached their objectives, and the destroyer played a notable part in the bombardment of the beaches before being ordered back to Malta for repairs on the second day of the landings. It was a poor score for the Luftwaffe against 700 ships and landing craft.

Rendezvous and landfalls were made faultlessly, and the assault began more or less on time. The northern or British half of the front comprised of sectors, each of two beaches. On the northernmost beach the leading battalion got ashore successfully, and Brigade Headquarters followed it soon afterwards; but the right battalion on the next beach was less fortunate. By bad luck the LCT(R)s discharged their rockets too far south, and the Commanding Officer of the leading wave had to make up his mind quickly whether to land on his allotted beach, where the defenders had escaped attack, or to switch to where the rockets had struck, so as to exploit their effect. He chose the latter course, and it proved to be a wrong decision. Trying to fight his way north to the area in which he should have landed his men came under heavy fire. His supporting weapons, following in the next wave, did not know of the change of direction, and landed on the original beach, where, with no bridgehead to protect them, they were wiped out. This battalion and the reserve battalion following in its wake, each suffered 50 percent casualties.

Photo Credit - Office of Medical History

Once again the use of smoke, as in the crossing of the Messina Straits, proved to be a mistake. The enemy gunners had ranged on the beaches, and their aim was not affected by their inability to see their targets; whereas the attackers could not see what was going on, and coxswains found difficulty in recognizing the silhouettes which they had so carefully memorized. During an air raid on the first evening, two cruisers, Delhi and Uganda, were actually in collision in a smoke screen.

Destroyers were steaming close inshore to engage shore targets, cutting across the bows of landing craft as they steered their painstaking way. The exits from the beaches were bad, and there was not room in the beachhead to deploy all the artillery that careful planning had got ashore in the early stages. The deficiency in fire support was made by units of the Royal and United States Navies. Every round fired from the sea during those fourteen hectic days in September of 1943 was a horrid warning to professors of tactics not to be dogmatic. A strong case could be made out in support of a claim that Naval bombardment saved Salerno. The lessons deriving from this experience were to be applied with devastating effect in Normandy nine months later.

A U.S. Coast Guardsman signals to a landing craft whose bow doors yawn

empty off Paestum, twenty miles south of Salerno, as the invasion gets under way.

Photo with caption found at WW2Archives

On the extreme left of the British front, the American Rangers and British Commandos, were having a rough time. The LCAs which were to have landed the Commando stores apparently found the fire too heavy for their liking, and withdrew without unloading. Objectives changed hands more than once, but were finally captured and handed over to the left flank British division. Out of a total strength of 738, more than half were casualties. As the landing craft came ashore, all supplies were unloaded and stored, and the beach area was kept clear for incoming craft by the Indian Gurkhas and Italian prisoners.

In the American areas, south of the Sele River, the battle remained critical for several days. For some reason fewer close support craft were allotted to this part of the front, and all landings were made under heavy machine gun fire. Here again, the exits from the beaches were defective and the build-up caused many delays. American reports on Salerno are sternly self-critical. The scales of equipment taken ashore were far too generous; no labour was provided to unload the LCTs and the DUKWs. DUKWs were misappropriated and used as trucks instead of returning to the ships for more stores.

Many ships had been improperly loaded, with a lot of irrelevant and unauthorised items on top of the urgently required tactical ones, and at one stage there was a mass of unsorted material - petrol, ammunition, food, equipment - lying so thick on the beaches that landing craft could find nowhere to touch down. Eventually a thousand sailors were landed from the ships to clear the waterfront, and pontoons were rushed in to the sector to make piers. But for some time all landing of stores had to be suspended.

Although some of the troops had penetrated inland a mile or more by first light on the 9th, they were very weak; and when the Germans counter-attacked with tanks they had nothing with which to defend themselves. The first American tanks did not get ashore until 10 a.m. From 0800 onwards, regardless of the risk of mines, two American cruisers, the British monitor Abercrombie, and several destroyers, both British and American, were engaging enemy tanks from seaward. The American destroyer Bristol fired 860 rounds during the day, closing at one time to a range of 7500 yards.

USS Bristol (DD), torpedoed by U-371 off E. Algeria, 13 Oct 43

Photo Credit - Ships of the US Navy, 1940 - 45

On the 11th, the Germans produced a new and nasty weapon, the remote controlled bomb. These were released by aircraft flying at a great height, and steered on to the targets by electronic means. The first two fell within six minutes of each other: No. 1 missed the U.S. cruiser Philadelphia by only fifteen feet, and shook her from truck to keel and No. 2 scored a direct hit on the Savannah and set her on fire.

H.M.S. Uganda was hit a few hours later and severely damaged, though both she and the Savannah survived. During the next few days several ships were victims of the formidable new weapon, including the battleship Warspite. She had been shelling the shore batteries. She had just blown up an ammunition dump, and was moving contentedly to the north to shoot up another area, when three remote-controlled bombs came whistling down on her. Two were misses, but the third burst in one of her boiler rooms. In less than an hour her engine rooms were flooded and she was helpless. A hazardous tow of 300 miles brought her to Malta. It took five hours to get her through the Straits of Messina, due to the strong currents.

On shore, the race, as usual was between our own build-up and the arrival of German reinforcements. The critical period began on the evening of the 13th, the fifth day of the fighting. The British were in Salerno town, though the heights above it were in dispute. On the other side of the Gulf the Americans were in Agropoli. The deepest penetration on any part of the front was five miles, and it averaged less than four. Mark Clark's Headquarters had been established ashore for 36 hours. The Germans had been building up near Eboli, on the edge of the hills north of the Sele River; and that evening with the best part of four divisions and a large number of Tiger tanks, they drove a wedge between the British and the American forces, bursting out on to the plain and getting perilously close to the sea. Their guns were shelling the beaches and their aircraft bombing them. The closer they pressed, the more difficult became our own troop movements in an area which was getting more and more constricted.

Once again, Naval bombardment was called into play, and quantities of shells were fired, while the Allied Air Force made the most concentrated attacks that had ever been made in a battle area in one day. The German War Diary states that "the heavy ships' bombardment and the almost complete command of the fighting area by the far superior enemy air force, had cost us grievous losses."

By the 16th, the Eighth Army was drawing near from the south, and its leading patrols making contact with the Americans. The German bolt was shot and the Salerno battle saved; but as a measure of how nearly the German counter-strike succeeded, Clark's Headquarters had had to re-embark, and preliminary orders had been issued for the abandonment of some of the southern beaches.

It is pleasant to record that the three Winettes* - Boxer, Thruster and Bruiser - played a notable part in this operation. They made six separate trips between the beaches and bases ports in Sicily and Tunisia, and could have made more if they had not, on one voyage, been kept waiting about for 40 hours unloaded. They put 1345 guns and vehicles and 6000 officers and men ashore into the beachhead at a time when they were badly needed. The same applied to many officers and ratings on the LCTs and the LSTs who were deeply and severely involved in the landings.

So ended Salerno, a hard and difficult battle, the severest test so far of the technique of Combined Operations.

The above story is found in Combined Operations by Londoner Clayton Marks, pages 102 - 105, printed in 1993. Observant readers will notice similarities between it and part of an address delivered to the Maritime Museum of Vancouver, 1995 by Lt. Cdr L. Williams, RCNVR, RTD (Data from Lt. Cdr J. Gibb, RCNVR).

HM LST Thruster

Photo Credit - Combined Operations Command

*The Winettes were LST(1)s produced in the US. HMS Thruster was completed in January 1943, the Bruiser in March, and the Boxer in April. Link to Landing Ship, Tanks by G. L. Rottman, pages 5 - 6, for more information.

Please link to Story re "55th, 61st, 80th, 81st Flotillas" Part 2

Passages: "Eye Witnesses with Backs Bent"

Landing Craft Operators in Combined Operations, WW2

Photo includes both Seaman Spencer and Stoker Birkenes,

and other Canadians in RCNVR and Combined Operations

From St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1 Page 80

The following passages from books, memoirs and articles by or about landing craft operators relate to hard work done by men who - in the middle of a 48- or 96-hour shift or very dangerous operation - were first-hand eye witnesses to chaos and carnage, victories and loss of friends, and many other aspects of World War II.

DIEPPE, August 1942

We Only Knew Him Seven Hours

          Dear Pops,

     Well, we've come through our first big show

     and still going strong. I suppose you have learned

     from Mother that I was at Dieppe.

     All those months of training have not been in vain after all.

     I could not find a better crew in the whole R.C.N.

     They were wonderful! Never a moment of panic. 

     Some sights I saw: My Ordinary Seaman Owen of

     Hamilton, blasting hell out of a Ju.88 with a .303 rifle;

     and Able Seaman Spencer of Toronto, our Cox'n,

     sweating blood in every pore inside his little box,

     says out of his armoured slit, "We're going like hell Sir,

     but it's the slowest hell I've ever seen";

     and Lewis Gunner Smart, also from Hamilton, muttering

     "My bloody oath" at every Jerry plane he saw (which was

     pretty often) then letting them have a whole pan of ammo.

     Smart wears an A.A.3 badge that he's not entitled to wear,

     but after putting a whole pan into a Dornier and seeing it

     burst into flames, I'm letting him keep the badge;

     Stoker Birkenes, from deep in the heart of Alberta,

     who is in the Black Hole of Calcutta (Engine Room),

     hearing everything and seeing nothing.

     That boy deserves a medal!

     

     A squadron of Hurribombers is lacing

     the front of the town with cannon.

     I never saw anything as beautiful as a Spitfire.

     As it will happen, we lost some of our very good men.

     Two Canadian Officers from another Flotilla got it.

     I believe I mentioned one of them in my last letter.

     Bob McRae, who was our former Flotilla Officer and

     one of the best (taken P.O.W. to the end of the war).

     Cliff Wallace from Montreal, who I have shared cabins

     with off and on since coming across, was killed.

     Our own Flotilla Officer got it also. We only knew

     him seven hours but I would go anywhere with him.

     Unfortunately some of our best ratings

     from the other Flotillas got their packet.

     As found in Letter from Sub/Lt. Dana Ramsay to his father

S.S. Clan MacTaggart. Photo Credit - Clyde built database

NORTH AFRICA, November 1942

There was a Terrible Explosion 

          We were shelled from the hills above the beach
     for a couple of days until a Royal Navy destroyer
     put a stop to it by several well-placed shells....

     Some days later the "Clan McTaggart" sailed in a
     small convoy to Gibraltar with orders to join other convoys
     all northbound under escort to the United Kingdom.
     Unfortunately we developed engine problems that
     necessitated repairs to be made in Gibraltar....
     we were (later) given permission to sail alone
     and catch up to the convoy.

     At about 1600-1800 we sailed
     and I remember standing on a bridge watch
     from midnight to 0400 when I was relieved.
     I went below and had just jumped into my bunk (top)
     when there was a terrible explosion. I ran up on deck
     and was advised we had been torpedoed.

     I then went back to my cabin to check on my cabin mate,
     S/L Harold Walkely, who was still sound asleep.
     To wake him I had to literally pull him out of bed....
     I remember vaguely moving around the ship
     in search of people needing help. The ship had settled
     by this time but was considerably lower in the water.
     The Captain ordered 'abandon ship'
     and a number of people jumped in the water
     or shinnied down the boat falls into the water.

     I remember being picked up by a Carley float
     and then transferring onto a half empty lifeboat.
     We pulled around the "Clan" looking for people and it
     was there we could see three follows standing on the stern.
     I believe one of them was Leading Seaman Grimmon.
     All three went down with the ship.

     As found in Story re North Africa, S. S. Clan MacTaggart
     by Lloyd (Luke) Williams

"Jeep, tank mesh, and more equipment, all from 'ship

to shore' on LCMs": From Combined Operations

SICILY, July 1943

Never Free From Danger

          Sunrise came at approximately 0600.

     A JU88 put in an appearance. A little later

     two Messerschmitts swept down to strafe the ship with

     cannon. They were ineffectual, however, and too late.

     Reinforcements were streaming shoreward in

     uninterrupted processions of landing craft, and by

     two pm the assault Flotillas had done their work....

     The 80th and 81st LCM Flotillas began their work

     four hours after the LCAs but instead of finishing

     in twelve hours, they were occupied for some ten weeks,

     first on Sicily and then on the Italian mainland.

     During the four weeks that followed, the work

     of landing stores and reinforcements settled down

     into a routine for the craft of the 80th and 81st Flotillas.

     It was a grinding routine, and it was never free from danger.

     Every type of cargo had to come ashore in their craft;

     sixteen-ton tanks, heavy trucks, tiers of cans of

     high-octane gasoline, ammunition, army rations, small arms

     and mortars. Heavy seas often made both the run-ins

     and the work of loading and unloading very difficult.

     The huge requirements of the arms put heavy pressure

     on the ferry system, and for the first 48 hours of the operation

     every man remained on the job without rest. Even after that,

     the best arrangements that could be worked out

     was a routine of 48 hours on and 24 hours off.

     As found in The 55th, 61st, 80th, 81st Canadian Flotillas in Sicily
     By Lt. Cdr L. Williams, RCNVR, RTD

Please link to Passages: Airborne Glider Mishaps, Sicily