1000 Men, 1000 Stories : The Arts of War: 'Brad's' Poetry to Recite (2b)

A Leading Seaman Turns Out Many Lines

Art 'Brad' Bradfield was one prolific poet

Introduction:

In an earlier entry it is revealed that Mr. Bradfield touched on various topics that other sailors would appreciate and the landlubber would readily understand as well. He wrote about Scotland, a part of the world he was introduced to - onboard various landing crafts - during training exercises before and after the Dieppe raid. He wrote about the value of team work, the importance of mail from home, the meaning of bravery, and a ship (his home) while involved in convoy runs, i.e., the H.M.C.S. Gatineau.

This entry, including six more of 'Brad's' poems, beings with another recollection about a ship, this time about one that was soon to be decommissioned. Not much can be found about the ship to which he refers, or how Bradfield was connected to it... if at all.

Help Wanted: If a reader knows about the ship, please let me know, and I will include authentic information here. Please write me at gordh7700@gmail.com or gharrison18@rogers.com

Help Wanted re HMS Catherine

THE DESTROYER'S LAST RUN

Proudly she sails into the Morn,

With banners flying high,

Her day is done, her battles won,

There's nought now but to die.

She's faced the stormy ocean wide,

The wind, the waves, the deep,

And now to rest, forever blest,

She takes her final sleep.

Farewell to you, old fighting Ship,

Sail eastward to the sun,

Your soul shall stay, 'til men can say,

Eternal peace is won.

Brad

The google search I undertook has informed me that HMS Catherine was a minesweeper and saw action at Normandy in the lead up to D-Day, June 1944. Recollections by RN sailor Joseph Ward reveal the following:

"I started preparing for the Normandy landing about March 1944 on HMS Pique a fleet minesweeper built in Seattle in the U.S.A. in 1943. There were nine ships in our flotilla, (40th minesweeping flotilla). The lead ship was HMS Catherine followed by HMS Greacian and then HMS Pique." (WW2 People's War)

According to a news article (revealed in the previous post re 'Brad's' poetry), Art served on the Canadian destroyer HMCS Gatineau in 1944, related to convoy duties, so may have crossed paths with HMS Catherine. That being said, which isn't much, I would like to know more.

Though the following poem was revealed in an earlier post (Articles: The Navy Had Its Own Language), I add it again here for those who are here for the first time:

NAVAL LANGUAGE

The Navy has a Language,

That each of us should know,

It's really quite peculiar,

Or, at least, I found it so.

The floor is always called "The Deck",

Upstairs is way "up top",

The "Bible" is a rubbing stone,

And a "swab" is just a mop.

A Sailor sleeps in a swinging "mick",

And never goes to bed,

When he is free to take a rest,

He just "gets down his head".

He is "adrift" when he is late,

The kitchen is the "Galley",

And they always use a "Bos'un's pipe",

When they want the lads to rally.

One Officer is the "Number One",

Another one is "Guns",

The Captain is "The Old Man",

To all your Naval Sons.

"Night clothing's" not for sleeping in,

Now does that seem quite right?

A "salty dip" is the tale he spins,

When on shore-leave for the night.

The rum he drinks is called a "tot",

The tea is known as "plue",

The dessert is known as "afters",

And porridge is "bergoo".

His collar blue, is called a "jean",

When drunk, he's "half-seas over",

A holiday's a "Make and Mend",

The boys are then in clover.

When things are done the service way,

They're "pusser" so they say.

And when they "Splice the Main Brace",

It's a very lucky day.

A depth-charge is an "ash can",

At least, that's what we're told,

A bully is a "bucko",

As he struts around so bold.

An Airman is a "Pigeon",

As he flies up in the sky,

A Soldier is a "Pongo",

On shore, there, where it's dry.

Each Miller's name is "Dusty",

Each Clark is "Knobbie" too,

Each Bennett's known as "Wiggie",

To the lads in Navy blue.

When he's on his ship he's then "afloat",

When on the land "ashore",

His cigarettes are "ticklers",

And "gash" means - anymore?

His best suit is his "tiddlies",

His oldest "number threes",

And he calls it "soogee-moogee",

Washing paintwork on his knees.

"Dhobing" is the washing,

A rope is called "a line",

A "fish" is a torpedo,

The "Mess" is where they dine.

These are just a few expressions,

But don't you now agree,

That it's a very funny Language,

Used by the men who go to Sea?

The above was published in the 1990s in a book entitled Combined Operations (pages 202 - 203) by Londoner Clayton Marks, also a member of RCNVR and Combined Operations during World War II.

Art knew a good deal about Navy lingo and could also offer good advice:

KEEP SMILING

You might as well keep smiling,

As along Life's road you race;

It doesn't cost you anymore,

And it's easier on your face.

Art both enlisted in RCNVR and willingly volunteered for Combined Operations in 1941, and was likely discharged with no black marks in his record in the fall of 1945. Many of his poems are dated in 1943 and 1944, while in some form of service in or based in Canada. The following few poems are not dated but I assume this next one popped into his head while still hard at work on convoy duty (1944) or while listening to someone who was:

A HERO IS HE

I know you are weary, homesick and blue,

You don't give a darn what happens to you.

You're sorry you crossed the raging foam,

You wish now you had stayed at home.

Banish those thoughts from your mind, my friend,

Just keep on plugging until the end,

There are women and children, who need your aid,

To fight for their Country, 'til peace is made.

They want to be able to do as they will,

To live in freedom, that abides there still.

They look on you as a Hero, my son,

So, buck up, and dig in, until the job is done.

And when War is over with its struggle and strife,

'Til then you return to your own "Civvie" Life,

They will thank that hero, unknown, it's true,

But the chap they'll be thanking, my friend - is You!

Brad

Convoy Afternoon by Donald C. Mackay

Page 49, READY, AYE, READY

THE KIDS ON THE CORNER

Remember the kids on the corner?

A hoodlum lot, you know,

But their Country sent out an urgent call,

And they all felt they should go.

So, one at a time they all signed up,

There was the kid down the street known as "Slim",

He promised to drop me a line, but he didn't,

Gee, I wonder what happened to him?

Remember Mac? Good looking Mac?

He always took things as they came,

He was caught in the siege at Hong Kong,

What the Japs did to him was a shame.

There, then, was that good natured fellow,

His nickname to us was just "Hank",

He fought hard and well, as he entered that Hell,

There wasn't much left of his Tank.

Some have given their happiness,

Others have given their all,

But with a stout heart, each is doing his part,

While heeding their Country's call.

So, when you see kids on the corner,

Don't say, "they're no good, I'm afraid,"

'Cause nobody knows they may turn out like those

The finest and best ever made.

Brad

"Along with the rest, he's doing his best, to see that the convoy goes through"

Gun's Crew by T. C. Wood. P.88, READY, AYE, READY

As well as performing convoy duty in 1944, on August 19, 1942, Art Bradfield manned landing crafts off the coast of France at Dieppe. Several Canadians report that they lost their first mates that day, a tragedy they would likely remember until they put their heads down on a pillow for the last time. Perhaps the "chaos and carnage" in Sicily also came to mind as he penned the following:

FORGIVE THEM

Don't condemn that noisy sailor,

If he's annoying you,

He's made his run, his job is done,

That lad in Navy Blue.

Have you ever been so homesick,

Your hopes were at an end?

You've had no mail, and it's time to sail,

You feel you haven't a friend.

Have you ever been so deathly sick,

You thought your stomach gone?

But with ashen face, you took your place,

When the Crew closed up at Dawn.

Have you ever seen the action,

That comes from the sea or the air?

The shells keep falling, and you hear death calling,

As your chums lie dying there.

Have you ever been dog-tired,

Unshaven and dirty too?

You've forgotten the date, and you swear at your mate,

The one who has always been true.

Have you ever slept in a crowded Mess,

And found it far from the best?

The air was thick, as you slung your "Mick".

To snatch a well earned rest.

Well, that's the life of a Sailor,

When out on the briny deep,

Can you deny these brief moments of ease?

He works at night while you sleep.

So the next time that you see him,

This lad in Navy Blue,

Remember well, he's been through Hell,

But he's brought the convoy through.

Brad

Art Bradfield was a man of many skills. Below are a few photographs - as found in newspapers given to me by Jack Bradfield (Art's son, Simcoe) - that relate to some of his interesting pursuits:

No mention is made on Art's Certificate of Discharge of his connection to the Combined Operations organization, but in the 'request form' that follows we see (Ty) beside his new rating as Leading Seaman, and that likely refers to the word 'Temporary' as in 'temporary status - Combined Ops for the duration of hostilities'.