Author
Reg Eyles
Branch
Royal Navy and Royal Marines
Personal Stories
What was it really like, Grandpa? These were the words of my great granddaughter Ellie, and of course they refer to the Second World War. Just about the time of Ellie's request I qualified for a grant from the Heroes Return Organisation for a funded tour, to include my wife, to Crete and at the same time I had a request from the Imperial War Museum to share my war experiences in several ways with young people. Additionally the lady in our local museum has made the same request for another organisation, so the following is my attempt to do the best for all these people.
What can I tell you — only my feelings and reactions of those days of more than sixty years ago? Some memories fade and even die, some are difficult to recall, and others are crystal clear. Most older people say they can remember exactly where they were the day President Kennedy was assassinated. In that way I can recall exactly the day war was declared. I will try to be factual and tell you exactly what it was like.
Ellie war is never glorious — it is people being frightened, wounded, drowned, blinded and killed. It is about people being driven to the limit of their endurance and beyond. I believe that those who make glory of war films resemble a tubby little man who used to sing, "Many Brave hearts are Asleep in the Deep" at our SCOUtS concert, despite his bicycle never crossing the county borders!
War does produce many brave men and women, plus a number who are deeply cowed by it. There is then the vast majority, including myself, who while enduring a dread of it manage to do what is required of them. Not what you WOUld call brave, but managing a bold front, and longing for the day when the grey cloud has gone and we can get on with a normal life.
One emotion I can recall is feeling at ease with the rightness of our country's involvement. The war was being waged against a country dominated entirely by one man, the dictator Hitler, whose written intent was world conquest, and whose promises to the peoples of Europe had been repeatedly broken. We knew therefore that, without nay urging ort flag waving, that it was a fight against an evil force, and a fight for survival.
So what do I think were the many emotions that we experienced at this time?
Fear, in the form of a menacing fog over life.
Anger against those who were forcing us to use up our lives in this way Love, like other feelings love is heightened by fear for our loved ones and the awful separations often without communication.
Sentiment, yes it brought out a wealth of sentiment, probably as a buffer against the harshness of life. Sentiment meant we listened to beautiful tunes from the masters of the past; and songs of the day played by bands such as Glen Miller, which still have the power to stir
US.
Finally there was a great togetherness, or comradeship. We all had our lives disrupted.
Very few people profited from war, it was a time of levelling. Rationing of food, clothing and fuel brought most of us together, and although we had the good old English moan we also had a spirit of sharing and helping. Our national traits of stubbornness and humour in the face of adversity were something Hitler had not reckoned with.
So now on to my little part in it.
3rd September 1939 The day war on Germany was declared by Britain and France. We had said that if Germany attacked Poland we would come to her aid. They did attack, both on land and in the air on the 1 st September and ignored our request to withdraw.
The 3rd September was a fine and sunny Sunday. I had joined the Royal Navy in May 38, and after training had served for some months on the new Aircraft Carrier "H.M.S. Ark Royal" . On the day war broke out I was back on shore serving in the Royal Naval Barracks, Portsmouth, awaiting a draft to my next ship.
We had heard the announcement at 1 lam by the Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain that Britain was now at war with Germany. At first there was a sort of hush among the many sailors in their messes, and in the roadways between accommodation blocks. Although there had been an air of crisis for some weeks, we had experienced a similar situation the year before and it has been resolved when Mr Chamberlain flew back from Munich and announced Peace in our time.
We therefore hoped that the same would happen again.
Stunned we knew this would be different when we heard of Germany's attack on Poland, of massive air attacks followed by land forces. Then we found our voices and rumours started, and it seemed that everyone was talking at once. With the understandable censorship on news, rumours were to be part of all our lives for the next six years.
Two of us youngsters were walking up and down on the edge of the parade ground, listening to the wise council; of our mess man, an old sailor with a wealth of worldly knowledge the German tanks were really plywood on cars, most of their planes were out of date, and anyway their country was so broke that war would be over in a few months None of this was true of course, but fears were allayed and hopes nourished by such rumours. Because the expected immediate air attack did not materialise there was an air of almost tranquillity. Later in the day we did have an air raid warning. Air raid warnings were in the form of a wailing siren; OCJrs in the barracks was up in the clock tower. Ellie, those sirens were in place in every town and village across our land, life was disrupted whenever their ominous wailing started, and people hurried to the shelters.
Shelters were where we went for safety and their size and shape varied.
They might be the size of a garden shed made of corrugated iron, and USUally in the garden. On the other hand there were long underground shelters, usually entered from pavement level, designed to hold a large number of people; plus many people used and slept in the underground stations in London.
Now, back to the barracks and the 3rd September the siren sounded we went down a few steps into our shelters, which were long underground passages, dimly lit and damp smelling. With bravado we joked about this our first wartime descent to the shelters; then a hand bell was rung which meant GAS that stopped our chatter as we put on our gas masks. Almost immediately the all clear sounded. I do recall the relief at that sound, which was a single note; how many times over the next six years were people to hear that single note with relief. And in air raids shelters all over the country over those years many acts of bravery, caring and sharing were carried out by all ages.
I remained in Barracks for a few weeks until sent to Plymouth to join H.M.S.Westminster, an old destroyer of 1918, fitted with anti-aircraft guns to prepare for convoy duties.
Convoys consisted of ships, which were bringing essential supplies, such as food, raw materials and equipment, to our island. Because these merchant ships were vulnerable to attack, it was necessary to move them across the seas in groups or convoys, and to protect them with ships like the Westminster. The Westminster, which was fast, well armed with guns, torpedoes and depth charges, patrolled the east coast of England, from the Tyne to Dover. It was a reasonably quiet beat, most of the action consisted of dropping depth charges when there was a possibility of an enemy submarine. Sadly there were occasions when a merchant ship would be torpedoed, at night we WOUld see a ball of fire and hope that those brave seamen would be picked out of the water.
I felt quite proud to be serving on one of "the boats". Even though about twenty years old our ship could still put on a good turn of speed, and we felt ourselves to be real sailors. Then we hit our first patch of really rough weather, and this real sailor was sick for a week. However after that I was never really seasick in the next twenty years.
Those old destroyers were decidedly uncomfortable . . . toilet and washing facilities were basic in the extreme. All my possessions (my kit) were in a locker under a bench seat; not only was it inconvenient, but water seeped down the ships side onto all the lockers in that row.
It was very cold up there in the North Sea, and most of the time we were steaming at the slow speed of the merchant ships, which meant wallowing up and down on the sea swell. It was a relief when we put on a spurt and sped around the lines of ships, perhaps to change place, or to investigate a sounding, which could mean enemy submarine in the area.
My job on the Westminster was naval stores — everything from nuts and bolts to lifebelts. Hundreds of items, most of them quite small and stored in little racks. I had to account for all the stock in stock ledgers, I am sure I wasn't very good at the job as I never caught up with the work as there seemed to be so much else going on.
Another role I had was decoding in the W.T. (wireless telegraphy) department. This I enjoyed as it was always warm and quiet in the W.T. room. The wireless operator would hand me signals when received, which consisted of sheets of paper with groups of numbers on. I would feed these into a machine, which the produced further numbers, which COUld be looked up in a book and translated into words. This was to fool the enemy if they picked up our signals.
Occasionally I had to spend a watch (four hours) as lookout on the open wing of the bridge. As I scanned the horizon with binoculars, looking for enemy submarines periscopes or aircraft, I imagined myself to be an old sea dog, instead of a young stores assistant. We were mostly cold and frequently wet, but I do remember how we enjoyed the thick sweet cocoa, so thick you could almost stand your spoon in it.
There was little time to stop and think, but plenty of humour. You should have seen me trying to wash my clothes in a bucket of warm water with a one-pound bar of very hard soap. We had to hang our washing where it would not get blown away, and learn to empty the dirty water over the ship's side with the wind, not against it. It was really quite a hard life, but we were young and could cope with it. It took me quite a while to get used to the complete lack of privacy, plus never getting enough sleep, but if that and the cold and wet ever got us down we certainly were not going to show it.
Westminster had been carrying out the convoy duties for some months when in May 1940 the comparatively quiet spell of the war was broken when the German army advanced into Belgium and Holland. Our ship was detached from convoy duty to join up with a destroyer flotilla heading for the coasts of the Low Countries in order to harass the advancing enemy with gunfire and torpedoes. Soon the crew were all at action stations. When a ship was in anticipation of a hostile situation, there would be a call to Action Stations, by the sounding of rattlers and every member would run to the position allocated to him, which would be his action station.
My action station was the for'd magazine, a compartment two decks below the waterline, entered through a round hatch just big enough to squeeze through and reached down a vertical steel runged ladder. There were just two of us in this place, surrounded by racks of shell, and when required by the gunners above we would unclip the shells and feed them onto a conveyor. Depressing is hardly the word for this occupation. When the ship went into action we could hear the explosions and feel the vibrations against the ship's side, but we were never sure which were our guns and which were the enemies shots landing around us. I think we consoled ourselves with the thought that if our magazine was hit we would ascend higher than anyone else!
After a period of this particular action (l cannot remember how long) we steamed back to Dover to take on more ammunition, and that done we headed back across the channel. At some time after dark the ship collided with an underwater object, which made a long hole in its bottom. Several compartments were flooded; we stopped and settled low in the water. With most of us on the upper deck the ship limped into Dunkirk harbour, and most of the crew were sent back to Portsmouth on another ship. A small crew remained on board (l was one because of my stores) Unfortunately a friend of the family, serving in Portsmouth Barracks, saw the crew assembled there, heard a rumour that the Westminster had sunk, so he told the family I was missing. Imagine their surprise when I arrived home several days later, rather grubby, unshaven, tired, but very much alive.
The ships company were given two weeks leave. My wife and I went to stay at my Aunt's in Cheriton in Hampshire. It was the house and village that I was born in, and I was very fond of the place, and frequently returned to it. While we were there enjoying the peace of the countryside we saw Army transports passing through the village. They were carrying the troops who had been evacuated from France.
Through no fault of their own our soldiers had been driven by the
Germans, down to the French port of Dunkirk. From there they were being ferried across the channel to England by boats of every description, from small sailing boats to Naval Destroyers. They were being continually bombed by aircraft and fired on by enemy guns.
Many acts of bravery were performed on those beaches, and many men died there and in the water, but sometimes a retreat can be so full of human endeavour it becomes a triumph over adversity. This was one of those times. Thinking about it in the Hampshire countryside, and remembering all my boyhood holidays there, and thinking of the horror on the beaches I suddenly realised that the World would never quite be the same again.
My leave over I returned to Portsmouth. In July 19401 left the destroyer Westminster, to join H.M.S. Glengyle, a ship that was to become my home for the next six years.
Glengyle was one of three merchant ships of the Blue Funnel Line. They were medium size (10,000 tons) and had a speed of 18 knots, which is quite fast for a merchant ship. They had been taken over by the Navy and converted to Landing ships infantry; large. Glengyle had a crew of about two hundred and fifty and carried seven hundred troops (usually Army Commandoes) We had twenty two small landing craft (flat bottomed with front opening doors) with which to ferry troops on and off enemy beaches.
During the next four years we took part in a number of operations, which included evacuations, assault landings on enemy beaches and transporting essential supplies. All except the Dieppe raid took place in the Mediterranean sea.
What was it really like, you ask - - - - well for a lot of time between operations we spent time training. This meant learning our roles in comparatively peaceful locations, such as Port Said and the Great Bitter Lakes in the Suez Canal. Apart from the occasional attack by aircraft I remember those periods mainly for the heat, the monotony of training and the poor quality of the food. Egyptian vegetables, fruit and eggs are something I would prefer to forget.
The operations usually took one to three days. Often the day of our approach to the target would be quiet, then in the dark our boats with troops WOUld be quietly lowered to the water, and we would watch them silently disappear into darkness. There would then be a quiet period on board when we waited, feeling very tense waiting for signs of activity. Then in the distance would be explosions, gunfire and flashes. Sometimes we would be sending boats to bring them back and other times the troops would be part of a major attack and would remain on shore. In any case our difficult time on board would come with daylight when enemy aircraft flew out to attack the source of the troops. Once again on this ship my action station was in the magazine, complete with hearing the noises up top and again being busy and frightened.
Now I have given a rough idea of an operation I will list them in date order and only write notes that I think are of interest.
1941 January we sailed to the Mediterranean.
At that time it was the practice to travel around Africa to get to the Med. In those early days it was too dangerous to go the quick route through the Straits of Gibraltar, that narrow strip of water was the hunting ground for enemy submarines and planes. So we went round Africa, stopping one night at Cape Town, South Africa. The war was not evident in that part of the world, and I do remember how wonderful it was to spend an evening in a town where the streets and shops were ablaze with lights, and where food was plentiful. So different from poor old Britain with its blackout (no lights to be seen at night) and its food rationing). So we sailed round Africa, up the Indian Ocean, through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal to Port Said, then on to Alexandria. The journey was quite pleasant, lots of sunshine and we met no enemy opposition, just a peaceful interlude before we reached Alexandria where once again we would be in the war zone. The German — Italian alliance meant the Med was a battle zone on sea, land and in the air. We were to serve in the Med for the next four years.
Alexandria was for most of the time comparatively peaceful, enemy air raids were never really heavy. It was hot, dusty and packed with soldiers, sailors and airmen. There were uniforms from many places including Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, India, and other countries. Ashore were Canteens and the Fleet Club. A dUbiOUS beer called Stella was served in glasses made of cut off beer bottles. The real hardships were the heat, the monotony of the food, the constant crowding, and although the authorities did their best, the lack of mail. Letters from home were our life blood. Your Grandma Jenny was several weeks old before I knew she had been born. In fact I had a letter from my wife Joan describing how the baby had grown after several weeks, before I had received the telegram announcing her birth. The problem was that sometimes an aircraft or ship carrying mail would be destroyed by enemy action and there would be a long worrying gap in the letters we received. We constantly worried about our families back at home when we knew heavy bombing was taking place. I can vividly recall lying down at night feeling very depressed and unhappy, wondering if I would ever see my family again.
So to our part in the war. This is not a war history, but I will list the actions we took part in so you can see we had a fairly busy time.
1941 A commando raid on Bardia, North Africa
1941 Two evacuations from Raftis, Greece to Suda Bay, Crete,
Then two evacuations from Sphakia, Crete to Alexandria. These evacuations were necessary because the Germans had outnumbered the armies we had put into Greece, and they had a very heavy air force there, whereas we had very little. It was a very bad time for the Royal Navy, who were being constantly bombed. Three cruisers and six destroyers were sunk, seventeen other ships damaged and two thousand sailors lost. The Germans had four hundred aircraft attacking us from nearby airfields and we had very few aircraft from Alexandria, four hundred and fifty miles away. Our ship, built to take seven hundred men, would take more than three thousand each trip. We were glad to take them, but it was the most frightening time of my war.
1941 Assault landing, Litani River, Syria, assisting Australians
1942 Two heavily escorted runs from Alexandria to Malta, carrying essential supplies
1942 Operation Jubilee — Dieppe, disguised as a tanker
1943 Operation Torch — landing American troops in North Africa
1943 Operation Husky, two landings in Sicily, Pachino, Messina
1943 Operation Avalanche, landing Salerno, Italy
1944 Operation Shingle, landing Anzio, Italy
1944 Returned to Liverpool for repairs
1945 Sailed for Bombay carrying 5th Airborne Division.
After Bombay we sailed to Trincomalee (now Sri Lanka). After that on to Hong Kong arriving just two days after the war with the Japanese had ended. One incident there is strong in my memory.
One of my responsibilities was the clothing store. I was instructed to kit out a group of people with shirts, socks, shoes etc. They were British Civilian Government employees, who had been interned (imprisoned)
in Hong Kong by the Japanese. They had been starved and brutally treated, suffering sores and bruises on their bodies. Despite that they possessed an old world charm and were so grateful for the little we did. One felt proud to be of the same race — will we see the like again?
Well our war was virtually over
Working for the Australian Navy Board we spent some months picking up troops from the Indonesian Islands of Tarikan, Balikpapan, Labuan and Morotai, and ferrying them to Brisbane, Australia, and although the war was over it was quite a strenuous time. I had been having health problems for some time and finished up in an army hospital in Brisbane. The staff were wonderful and after a few weeks I was able to rejoin my ship.
We took some occupation troops to Kure, Japan, and then loaded with men who had been prisoners of war we sailed to Scotland, where the ship was returned to it's original owners in July 1946.
My war was over
I served in the Royal Navy for a further fourteen years, and after that
I was employed as a Technical Manager in the Food Processing
Industry, an occupation I really enjoyed. I finally retired in 1983
I would like to finish by trying once again to answer your question "what was it really like?"
It was six years during which there was always a dark cloud of fear.
Fear of many different possibilities; fear for oneself and for ones families It was also a time of great tragedies, of much hate and killing. Also a time of much bravery. Bravery of Mums, Dads, Aunts and Uncles as well as the troops. A time of intense emotion, comradeship and sharing. Sharing not only material things but also hopes, joys and sorrows.
Now it was all over. On VE day (Germany) the ship was at Inverary, Scotland, a quiet loch. On VJ day (Japan) we were at sea so I did not witness any of the celebrations that took place. I don't think any of us felt like partying. The war was over, a flood of relief we felt, that after six years we could once again feel that we had a future where we could hope and plan.
So that was what it was like and I hope and pray that for you my great grandchildren, and all young people, that such time will never recur.
Reg Eyles, March 2005 Story Type Personal Stories Service Royal Navy and Royal Marines
What can I tell you — only my feelings and reactions of those days of more than sixty years ago? Some memories fade and even die, some are difficult to recall, and others are crystal clear. Most older people say they can remember exactly where they were the day President Kennedy was assassinated. In that way I can recall exactly the day war was declared. I will try to be factual and tell you exactly what it was like.
Ellie war is never glorious — it is people being frightened, wounded, drowned, blinded and killed. It is about people being driven to the limit of their endurance and beyond. I believe that those who make glory of war films resemble a tubby little man who used to sing, "Many Brave hearts are Asleep in the Deep" at our SCOUtS concert, despite his bicycle never crossing the county borders!
War does produce many brave men and women, plus a number who are deeply cowed by it. There is then the vast majority, including myself, who while enduring a dread of it manage to do what is required of them. Not what you WOUld call brave, but managing a bold front, and longing for the day when the grey cloud has gone and we can get on with a normal life.
One emotion I can recall is feeling at ease with the rightness of our country's involvement. The war was being waged against a country dominated entirely by one man, the dictator Hitler, whose written intent was world conquest, and whose promises to the peoples of Europe had been repeatedly broken. We knew therefore that, without nay urging ort flag waving, that it was a fight against an evil force, and a fight for survival.
So what do I think were the many emotions that we experienced at this time?
Fear, in the form of a menacing fog over life.
Anger against those who were forcing us to use up our lives in this way Love, like other feelings love is heightened by fear for our loved ones and the awful separations often without communication.
Sentiment, yes it brought out a wealth of sentiment, probably as a buffer against the harshness of life. Sentiment meant we listened to beautiful tunes from the masters of the past; and songs of the day played by bands such as Glen Miller, which still have the power to stir
US.
Finally there was a great togetherness, or comradeship. We all had our lives disrupted.
Very few people profited from war, it was a time of levelling. Rationing of food, clothing and fuel brought most of us together, and although we had the good old English moan we also had a spirit of sharing and helping. Our national traits of stubbornness and humour in the face of adversity were something Hitler had not reckoned with.
So now on to my little part in it.
3rd September 1939 The day war on Germany was declared by Britain and France. We had said that if Germany attacked Poland we would come to her aid. They did attack, both on land and in the air on the 1 st September and ignored our request to withdraw.
The 3rd September was a fine and sunny Sunday. I had joined the Royal Navy in May 38, and after training had served for some months on the new Aircraft Carrier "H.M.S. Ark Royal" . On the day war broke out I was back on shore serving in the Royal Naval Barracks, Portsmouth, awaiting a draft to my next ship.
We had heard the announcement at 1 lam by the Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain that Britain was now at war with Germany. At first there was a sort of hush among the many sailors in their messes, and in the roadways between accommodation blocks. Although there had been an air of crisis for some weeks, we had experienced a similar situation the year before and it has been resolved when Mr Chamberlain flew back from Munich and announced Peace in our time.
We therefore hoped that the same would happen again.
Stunned we knew this would be different when we heard of Germany's attack on Poland, of massive air attacks followed by land forces. Then we found our voices and rumours started, and it seemed that everyone was talking at once. With the understandable censorship on news, rumours were to be part of all our lives for the next six years.
Two of us youngsters were walking up and down on the edge of the parade ground, listening to the wise council; of our mess man, an old sailor with a wealth of worldly knowledge the German tanks were really plywood on cars, most of their planes were out of date, and anyway their country was so broke that war would be over in a few months None of this was true of course, but fears were allayed and hopes nourished by such rumours. Because the expected immediate air attack did not materialise there was an air of almost tranquillity. Later in the day we did have an air raid warning. Air raid warnings were in the form of a wailing siren; OCJrs in the barracks was up in the clock tower. Ellie, those sirens were in place in every town and village across our land, life was disrupted whenever their ominous wailing started, and people hurried to the shelters.
Shelters were where we went for safety and their size and shape varied.
They might be the size of a garden shed made of corrugated iron, and USUally in the garden. On the other hand there were long underground shelters, usually entered from pavement level, designed to hold a large number of people; plus many people used and slept in the underground stations in London.
Now, back to the barracks and the 3rd September the siren sounded we went down a few steps into our shelters, which were long underground passages, dimly lit and damp smelling. With bravado we joked about this our first wartime descent to the shelters; then a hand bell was rung which meant GAS that stopped our chatter as we put on our gas masks. Almost immediately the all clear sounded. I do recall the relief at that sound, which was a single note; how many times over the next six years were people to hear that single note with relief. And in air raids shelters all over the country over those years many acts of bravery, caring and sharing were carried out by all ages.
I remained in Barracks for a few weeks until sent to Plymouth to join H.M.S.Westminster, an old destroyer of 1918, fitted with anti-aircraft guns to prepare for convoy duties.
Convoys consisted of ships, which were bringing essential supplies, such as food, raw materials and equipment, to our island. Because these merchant ships were vulnerable to attack, it was necessary to move them across the seas in groups or convoys, and to protect them with ships like the Westminster. The Westminster, which was fast, well armed with guns, torpedoes and depth charges, patrolled the east coast of England, from the Tyne to Dover. It was a reasonably quiet beat, most of the action consisted of dropping depth charges when there was a possibility of an enemy submarine. Sadly there were occasions when a merchant ship would be torpedoed, at night we WOUld see a ball of fire and hope that those brave seamen would be picked out of the water.
I felt quite proud to be serving on one of "the boats". Even though about twenty years old our ship could still put on a good turn of speed, and we felt ourselves to be real sailors. Then we hit our first patch of really rough weather, and this real sailor was sick for a week. However after that I was never really seasick in the next twenty years.
Those old destroyers were decidedly uncomfortable . . . toilet and washing facilities were basic in the extreme. All my possessions (my kit) were in a locker under a bench seat; not only was it inconvenient, but water seeped down the ships side onto all the lockers in that row.
It was very cold up there in the North Sea, and most of the time we were steaming at the slow speed of the merchant ships, which meant wallowing up and down on the sea swell. It was a relief when we put on a spurt and sped around the lines of ships, perhaps to change place, or to investigate a sounding, which could mean enemy submarine in the area.
My job on the Westminster was naval stores — everything from nuts and bolts to lifebelts. Hundreds of items, most of them quite small and stored in little racks. I had to account for all the stock in stock ledgers, I am sure I wasn't very good at the job as I never caught up with the work as there seemed to be so much else going on.
Another role I had was decoding in the W.T. (wireless telegraphy) department. This I enjoyed as it was always warm and quiet in the W.T. room. The wireless operator would hand me signals when received, which consisted of sheets of paper with groups of numbers on. I would feed these into a machine, which the produced further numbers, which COUld be looked up in a book and translated into words. This was to fool the enemy if they picked up our signals.
Occasionally I had to spend a watch (four hours) as lookout on the open wing of the bridge. As I scanned the horizon with binoculars, looking for enemy submarines periscopes or aircraft, I imagined myself to be an old sea dog, instead of a young stores assistant. We were mostly cold and frequently wet, but I do remember how we enjoyed the thick sweet cocoa, so thick you could almost stand your spoon in it.
There was little time to stop and think, but plenty of humour. You should have seen me trying to wash my clothes in a bucket of warm water with a one-pound bar of very hard soap. We had to hang our washing where it would not get blown away, and learn to empty the dirty water over the ship's side with the wind, not against it. It was really quite a hard life, but we were young and could cope with it. It took me quite a while to get used to the complete lack of privacy, plus never getting enough sleep, but if that and the cold and wet ever got us down we certainly were not going to show it.
Westminster had been carrying out the convoy duties for some months when in May 1940 the comparatively quiet spell of the war was broken when the German army advanced into Belgium and Holland. Our ship was detached from convoy duty to join up with a destroyer flotilla heading for the coasts of the Low Countries in order to harass the advancing enemy with gunfire and torpedoes. Soon the crew were all at action stations. When a ship was in anticipation of a hostile situation, there would be a call to Action Stations, by the sounding of rattlers and every member would run to the position allocated to him, which would be his action station.
My action station was the for'd magazine, a compartment two decks below the waterline, entered through a round hatch just big enough to squeeze through and reached down a vertical steel runged ladder. There were just two of us in this place, surrounded by racks of shell, and when required by the gunners above we would unclip the shells and feed them onto a conveyor. Depressing is hardly the word for this occupation. When the ship went into action we could hear the explosions and feel the vibrations against the ship's side, but we were never sure which were our guns and which were the enemies shots landing around us. I think we consoled ourselves with the thought that if our magazine was hit we would ascend higher than anyone else!
After a period of this particular action (l cannot remember how long) we steamed back to Dover to take on more ammunition, and that done we headed back across the channel. At some time after dark the ship collided with an underwater object, which made a long hole in its bottom. Several compartments were flooded; we stopped and settled low in the water. With most of us on the upper deck the ship limped into Dunkirk harbour, and most of the crew were sent back to Portsmouth on another ship. A small crew remained on board (l was one because of my stores) Unfortunately a friend of the family, serving in Portsmouth Barracks, saw the crew assembled there, heard a rumour that the Westminster had sunk, so he told the family I was missing. Imagine their surprise when I arrived home several days later, rather grubby, unshaven, tired, but very much alive.
The ships company were given two weeks leave. My wife and I went to stay at my Aunt's in Cheriton in Hampshire. It was the house and village that I was born in, and I was very fond of the place, and frequently returned to it. While we were there enjoying the peace of the countryside we saw Army transports passing through the village. They were carrying the troops who had been evacuated from France.
Through no fault of their own our soldiers had been driven by the
Germans, down to the French port of Dunkirk. From there they were being ferried across the channel to England by boats of every description, from small sailing boats to Naval Destroyers. They were being continually bombed by aircraft and fired on by enemy guns.
Many acts of bravery were performed on those beaches, and many men died there and in the water, but sometimes a retreat can be so full of human endeavour it becomes a triumph over adversity. This was one of those times. Thinking about it in the Hampshire countryside, and remembering all my boyhood holidays there, and thinking of the horror on the beaches I suddenly realised that the World would never quite be the same again.
My leave over I returned to Portsmouth. In July 19401 left the destroyer Westminster, to join H.M.S. Glengyle, a ship that was to become my home for the next six years.
Glengyle was one of three merchant ships of the Blue Funnel Line. They were medium size (10,000 tons) and had a speed of 18 knots, which is quite fast for a merchant ship. They had been taken over by the Navy and converted to Landing ships infantry; large. Glengyle had a crew of about two hundred and fifty and carried seven hundred troops (usually Army Commandoes) We had twenty two small landing craft (flat bottomed with front opening doors) with which to ferry troops on and off enemy beaches.
During the next four years we took part in a number of operations, which included evacuations, assault landings on enemy beaches and transporting essential supplies. All except the Dieppe raid took place in the Mediterranean sea.
What was it really like, you ask - - - - well for a lot of time between operations we spent time training. This meant learning our roles in comparatively peaceful locations, such as Port Said and the Great Bitter Lakes in the Suez Canal. Apart from the occasional attack by aircraft I remember those periods mainly for the heat, the monotony of training and the poor quality of the food. Egyptian vegetables, fruit and eggs are something I would prefer to forget.
The operations usually took one to three days. Often the day of our approach to the target would be quiet, then in the dark our boats with troops WOUld be quietly lowered to the water, and we would watch them silently disappear into darkness. There would then be a quiet period on board when we waited, feeling very tense waiting for signs of activity. Then in the distance would be explosions, gunfire and flashes. Sometimes we would be sending boats to bring them back and other times the troops would be part of a major attack and would remain on shore. In any case our difficult time on board would come with daylight when enemy aircraft flew out to attack the source of the troops. Once again on this ship my action station was in the magazine, complete with hearing the noises up top and again being busy and frightened.
Now I have given a rough idea of an operation I will list them in date order and only write notes that I think are of interest.
1941 January we sailed to the Mediterranean.
At that time it was the practice to travel around Africa to get to the Med. In those early days it was too dangerous to go the quick route through the Straits of Gibraltar, that narrow strip of water was the hunting ground for enemy submarines and planes. So we went round Africa, stopping one night at Cape Town, South Africa. The war was not evident in that part of the world, and I do remember how wonderful it was to spend an evening in a town where the streets and shops were ablaze with lights, and where food was plentiful. So different from poor old Britain with its blackout (no lights to be seen at night) and its food rationing). So we sailed round Africa, up the Indian Ocean, through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal to Port Said, then on to Alexandria. The journey was quite pleasant, lots of sunshine and we met no enemy opposition, just a peaceful interlude before we reached Alexandria where once again we would be in the war zone. The German — Italian alliance meant the Med was a battle zone on sea, land and in the air. We were to serve in the Med for the next four years.
Alexandria was for most of the time comparatively peaceful, enemy air raids were never really heavy. It was hot, dusty and packed with soldiers, sailors and airmen. There were uniforms from many places including Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, India, and other countries. Ashore were Canteens and the Fleet Club. A dUbiOUS beer called Stella was served in glasses made of cut off beer bottles. The real hardships were the heat, the monotony of the food, the constant crowding, and although the authorities did their best, the lack of mail. Letters from home were our life blood. Your Grandma Jenny was several weeks old before I knew she had been born. In fact I had a letter from my wife Joan describing how the baby had grown after several weeks, before I had received the telegram announcing her birth. The problem was that sometimes an aircraft or ship carrying mail would be destroyed by enemy action and there would be a long worrying gap in the letters we received. We constantly worried about our families back at home when we knew heavy bombing was taking place. I can vividly recall lying down at night feeling very depressed and unhappy, wondering if I would ever see my family again.
So to our part in the war. This is not a war history, but I will list the actions we took part in so you can see we had a fairly busy time.
1941 A commando raid on Bardia, North Africa
1941 Two evacuations from Raftis, Greece to Suda Bay, Crete,
Then two evacuations from Sphakia, Crete to Alexandria. These evacuations were necessary because the Germans had outnumbered the armies we had put into Greece, and they had a very heavy air force there, whereas we had very little. It was a very bad time for the Royal Navy, who were being constantly bombed. Three cruisers and six destroyers were sunk, seventeen other ships damaged and two thousand sailors lost. The Germans had four hundred aircraft attacking us from nearby airfields and we had very few aircraft from Alexandria, four hundred and fifty miles away. Our ship, built to take seven hundred men, would take more than three thousand each trip. We were glad to take them, but it was the most frightening time of my war.
1941 Assault landing, Litani River, Syria, assisting Australians
1942 Two heavily escorted runs from Alexandria to Malta, carrying essential supplies
1942 Operation Jubilee — Dieppe, disguised as a tanker
1943 Operation Torch — landing American troops in North Africa
1943 Operation Husky, two landings in Sicily, Pachino, Messina
1943 Operation Avalanche, landing Salerno, Italy
1944 Operation Shingle, landing Anzio, Italy
1944 Returned to Liverpool for repairs
1945 Sailed for Bombay carrying 5th Airborne Division.
After Bombay we sailed to Trincomalee (now Sri Lanka). After that on to Hong Kong arriving just two days after the war with the Japanese had ended. One incident there is strong in my memory.
One of my responsibilities was the clothing store. I was instructed to kit out a group of people with shirts, socks, shoes etc. They were British Civilian Government employees, who had been interned (imprisoned)
in Hong Kong by the Japanese. They had been starved and brutally treated, suffering sores and bruises on their bodies. Despite that they possessed an old world charm and were so grateful for the little we did. One felt proud to be of the same race — will we see the like again?
Well our war was virtually over
Working for the Australian Navy Board we spent some months picking up troops from the Indonesian Islands of Tarikan, Balikpapan, Labuan and Morotai, and ferrying them to Brisbane, Australia, and although the war was over it was quite a strenuous time. I had been having health problems for some time and finished up in an army hospital in Brisbane. The staff were wonderful and after a few weeks I was able to rejoin my ship.
We took some occupation troops to Kure, Japan, and then loaded with men who had been prisoners of war we sailed to Scotland, where the ship was returned to it's original owners in July 1946.
My war was over
I served in the Royal Navy for a further fourteen years, and after that
I was employed as a Technical Manager in the Food Processing
Industry, an occupation I really enjoyed. I finally retired in 1983
I would like to finish by trying once again to answer your question "what was it really like?"
It was six years during which there was always a dark cloud of fear.
Fear of many different possibilities; fear for oneself and for ones families It was also a time of great tragedies, of much hate and killing. Also a time of much bravery. Bravery of Mums, Dads, Aunts and Uncles as well as the troops. A time of intense emotion, comradeship and sharing. Sharing not only material things but also hopes, joys and sorrows.
Now it was all over. On VE day (Germany) the ship was at Inverary, Scotland, a quiet loch. On VJ day (Japan) we were at sea so I did not witness any of the celebrations that took place. I don't think any of us felt like partying. The war was over, a flood of relief we felt, that after six years we could once again feel that we had a future where we could hope and plan.
So that was what it was like and I hope and pray that for you my great grandchildren, and all young people, that such time will never recur.
Reg Eyles, March 2005 Story Type Personal Stories Service Royal Navy and Royal Marines