Norm Mitchinson's WWII Navy Record Would be Hard to Erase!
Part of the Effingham Division at HMCS Stadacona, Halifax 1941Norm Mitchinson appears in the front row, second from the left
Introduction:
Norm Mitchinson, RCNVR 1941 - 1945, was a member of the first division of Canadian sailors to volunteer for Combined Operations, a British organization that planned several raids and invasions during World War II.
Like many other young men in the Effingham Division who joined Combined Ops during the last days of their training in Halifax, 1941, he was soon placed aboard a ship to the United Kingdom where - very shortly after landing - he would be introduced to several training camps dedicated to instructing young recruits in the handling of various landing crafts, e.g., landing craft assault (ALCs) and landing craft mechanised (LCMs).
During their first two years of overseas service the Canadian men would be involved in the Dieppe Raid (August 19, 1942) followed shortly thereafter by invasions of North Africa, Sicily and Italy (i.e., Operation Torch, beginning Nov. 8, 1942; Operation Husky, beginning July 10, 1943; Operation Baytown, beginning Sept. 3, 1943, respectively). The destinations related to their next two-year stint (approx.), until discharge at the end of the war, would widely vary.
Leading Seaman (L/S) Norman Mitchinson's father puts finishing touches
to many concrete facts, the record of a well-travelled Navy campaign.
Photo Credit: Jack Mitchinson (Norm's nephew), with permission
Several photographs and short videos have been assembled here that include or relate to Norm Mitchinson and the Effingham Division. While searching for these items, a caption for a particular photo (seen at top of page) sported a shared provenance, with Norm's name linked to WWII Navy officer Bill Sinclair and a lengthy but very informative story. Details to follow.
The following photos relate closely to Norm's "well-travelled Navy campaign."
Most of the Effingham Division is here (minus four sailors). 'X Doug' is my
father, and Norm M. is third row from front, centre. HMCS Stadacona 1941
Another version of the top photo. Collection of Doug Harrison
Photo from the collection of Lloyd Evans, RCNVR, Combined Ops 1941 - 45
The caption is attached to the same photo (poor quality) in a book of
Norm's Navy records would look about the same as above (my father's) until
December 1943. Then they would greatly vary until discharge in 1945
Combined Operations by Londoner Clayton Marks (RCNVR/Comb.Ops)
elaborates on the roles of Canadians in Combined Operations, WWII
The book was reprinted just a few years ago and is available for purchase.
For more details please email Editor at gordh7700@gmail.com
N. Mitchinson's concrete list of raids and invasions as part of Combined Ops
is included on a memorial on the site of HMS Quebec, Inveraray, Scotland.
HMS Quebec was the No. 1 Combined Operations Training Camp
Video (17sec.) of HMS Quebec site on Loch Fyne, near Inveraray
Video (6sec.) of memorial at HMS Quebec near Inveraray, Scotland
Memorial to members of Combined Operations 150m from Loch Fyne
Opposite side of memorial with Comb. Ops 'Battle Honours' plaque
Memorial is close to WWII drill hall. Scotland Photos by GH, 2014
Seen earlier in this entry but now sports a caption that includesa provenance* shared by Norm Mitchinson and Bill Sinclair
*The caption includes more than a provenance. It includes insertions by my father and I. E.g., Dad wrote Dewey under the sailor listed as Sam Ingram(?). I believe my father is correct as Dewey's name appears in a list by Joe Spencer included with the large group photo and mentioned in the previous post on this site. I circled "picked up later" because my father did not appear in this small group photo. And as years went by I added names I encountered to replace a few of the mysteries, i.e., (?).
The above photo was included in a lengthy story by Bill Sinclair (10 pages, incl. the photo) entitled "Getting to be a Canadian Naval Officer, 1941." I scanned the story quickly to see if Mitchinson's name was mentioned, to see if the two were school mates, friends, etc., but no instance like that was revealed. Perhaps they both submitted the same photo to the editors of the book it was in (St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War 1941 - 1945, Volume 1).
That being said, Sinclair's story - from the viewpoint of an officer - mentions several people, places and things that Mr. Mitchinson would surely have been familiar with from a Leading Seaman's point-of-view.
Here is one section from the story that would have been very familiar to both officers and seamen:
The Volendam: Photo credit - uboat.net
Volendam
The Volendam was a vessel of 15,500 tons. She had been built in 1923 and belonged to the Holland-America Line. In peace time she was involved in the passenger service between the Netherlands and New York. She was used as a troopship. I recall a plaque on a bulkhead recognising the skill and devotion of her ship's company in some action earlier in the war when she was carrying hundreds of children from Scotland to North America.
We boarded the Volendam near the end of January 1942, once again for passage to Britain. We sailed with another troopship, the Largs Bay, built in 1922 and of 14,200 tons. She was approximately of the same size and speed as the Volendam. A sister ship of the Largs Bay, namely Jervis Bay had been converted to an armed merchant cruiser early in the war. She was sunk by the German pocket-battleship Admiral Scheer while defending a convoy against impossible odds.
Our convoy of two ships was escorted by two destroyers. We sailed southeast of Halifax. The Volendam had been fitted with a World War 1 six inch gun built in Japan. The gun was placed at the stem of the ship. The Volendam did not have a gun crew of her own. During the voyage this duty was assigned to naval personnel, at least some, if not all of whom were from our landing craft flotillas. The gun's crew consisted of some six men. The senior rating was a Leading Seaman.
During the second night of our voyage in the Volendam, I was in my cabin when there was a loud explosion, followed by the ringing of the ship's alarm bells. I immediately put on my Mae West inflatable life belt.
As I later learned from members of the gun's crew involved, what had happened was this: It was a moonlit night and visibility over the water astern of the ship was quite good. Suddenly one of the gun's crew-saw the conning tower of a U-Boat breaking the water not far from the ship. The officer in charge of the gun on watch was Sub-Lieutenant Doug Chisholm of Winnipeg. He had just completed his initial training in the navy. To all intents and purposes this was his first day at sea.
The orders were that the gun could not be fired without first obtaining permission from the bridge. There was a phone from the gun position to the bridge. The second officer was on watch. When Doug phoned the bridge for permission to open fire this officer could not understand him. I suspect that this breakdown was contributed to by Doug's excitable volubility. As I heard the story, Doug finally rushed towards the bridge and was met somewhere between by the second officer.
Permission was given and the gun was fired. By this time, however, the submarine was to all intents and purposes submerged. A few minutes later one of the two escorting destroyers which I believe to have been HMS Belmont was sunk with all hands. Doug was henceforth known to his companions as "Gunner".
(One of our coxswains, L/Sea Danny Darnbrough was aboard and was wounded on one leg and hand in the course of the shelling that destroyed the ship. The convoy's loss was five out of thirty-seven which scattered during the fight. Jervis Bay had no hope as they were firing 6" guns against German 11" armament Her captain was given a posthumous Victoria Cross, the highest and only gallantry medal awarded to dead heroes.)
St. Nazaire to Singapore, page 28
Please click here to find the full story, starting on Page 20 of St. Nazaire to Singapore, Vol. 1
Norm Mitchinson and my father Doug Harrison surely would remember their first crossing of the Atlantic for many years. In the 1970s my father penned his naval memoirs and included the following paragraphs about his trip to the UK aboard The Volendam:
One day we heard a mess deck buzz or rumour that the navy was looking for volunteers for special duties overseas, with nine days leave thrown in. Many from the Effingham Division, including myself, once again volunteered. (Will I ever quit volunteering?) The buzz turned out to be true and we came home on leave, which involved three days coming home on a train, three days at home and three days on the train going back.
After returning from leave we were put aboard a large passenger liner, Queen of Bermuda, which went aground going astern as we left harbour and couldn’t be moved. We bailed water all night with pails - on a huge ship like that - like emptying a pail of sand one grain at a time. However, we were transferred to a Dutch ship called the Volendam, with a large number of Air Force men. This was to be an eventful trip.
The convoy consisted of a destroyer H.M.S. Firedrake, armed merchant ship Jervis Bay (sister ship of the famed Burgess Bay who held off a large German man o’ war until the remainder of its convoy could escape, costing her her life and all aboard) and an American four-stacker loaned by the USA to England.
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. Our first meal was sausage with lots of grease. Naturally, many were sick as it was very rough.
Late at night I was on watch at our stern and saw a red plume of an explosion on our starboard quarter. In the morning the four-stacker was not to be seen. The next evening I heard cries for help, presumably from a life-raft or life-boat. Although I informed the officer of the watch, we were unable to stop and place ourselves in jeopardy as we only had the Firedrake with ASDIC (sonar) to get us through safely.
After some days we spotted a light on our port stern quarter one night. It was the light of the conning tower of a German submarine. How she failed to detect us, or the Firedrake detect it, I will never know. I was gun layer and nearly fell off the gun (4.7 gauge). I informed the Bridge and the Captain said, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. It could be one of ours.” But as it quickly submerged we did fire one round to buck up our courage.
Some days later we spotted a friendly flying Sunderland and shortly after sailed up the Firth of Clyde to disembark at the Canadian barracks called Niobe. Before we disembarked, however, we took up a good - sized collection for the crew of the Firedrake for bringing us through. It was soon confirmed that the American four-stacker had taken a fish (torpedo).
“DAD, WELL DONE” Naval Memoirs of G.D. Harrison, pages 7 - 9
Though Norm Mitchinson is not mentioned in the two stories above, by interesting coincidence during one of the next lengthy journeys aboard troop liners - this time from Scotland to southern England just prior to the Dieppe raid - my father recounts an incident in which Norm took centre stage:
A TASTE OF DIEPPE, 1942
It is very difficult to put a finger on where I was and when I was there because I have only my service sheet and memory to go by and neither seem to be up-to-date. However, I believe we went from Irvine to H.M.S. Quebec, then to H.M.S. Niobe and then aboard the oil tanker Ennerdale at Greenock (Scotland) in late April, 1942. Our barges were loaded on the ship too, by use of booms and winches. I do recall that before leaving Greenock one of the ship’s crew said to me, “I wish we weren’t going on this trip, matey.” When I asked why he said, “‘Cause we got a bloody basinful last time!” We got our basinful this time too.
During the trip down the west coast of England it seems we pulled into an Irish seaport one night; however, farther down the coast of England we headed south past Milford Haven, Wales, and all was serene.
We usually had a single or maybe two Spitfires for company. There were eight ships in the convoy; we were the largest, the rest were trawlers. Of course, the Spitfires only stayed until early dusk, then waggled their wings and headed home.
On June 22, 1942, my mother’s birthday, O/D Seaman Jack Rimmer of Montreal and I were reminiscing on deck. We must remember there was daylight saving time and war time, and to go by the sun setting one never knew what time it was. Jack and I were feeling just a little homesick - not like at first - and it was a terribly hard feeling to describe then.
Jack Rimmer aboard HMS Keren on the way to Sicily, 1943
Eight German JU 88s came from the east, took position in the sun and attacked us from the stern. It was perhaps between eight and nine o’clock because I had undressed and climbed into my hammock next to Stoker Fred Alston. When the Klaxon went everybody hit the deck and tried to dress, and being the largest ship, we knew we were in for it.
I got my socks on, put my sweater on backwards and got the suspenders on my pants caught on the oil valves. I was hurrying like hell and nearly strangled myself - scared to death. They needed extra gunners so Lloyd Campbell of London, Ontario (later to die of wounds suffered at Dieppe) said, “Let me at him.”
The bombs came - and close. They really bounced us around. The gun crew on the foc’sle of the ship was knocked clear off the gun by the concussion and fell but were only bruised.
The attack was short and sweet but it seemed an eternity. A near miss had buckled our plates and we lost all our drinking water. I ventured out on deck immediately and picked up bomb shrapnel as big as your fist. I noticed the deck was covered with mud from the sea bottom. I kept the shrapnel as a souvenir along with many other items I had but, alas, they were all lost in Egypt.
We arrived at Cowe (Isle of Wight) the next day with everyone happy to be alive and still shaking. It indeed had been a basinful.
Incidentally, two German 88s were shot down. Norm Mitchinson of Niagara Falls was credited with two planes shot down during the course of the war; one at Dieppe and one at Sicily. Both were low flying bombers. His weapon was a strip Lewis 303.
"Dad, Well Done" pages 19 - 20
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