Officers of the association
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- THE END
- MEMORIAL TO THE BATTLES OF NARVIK
- THE MILITARY TATTOO - Behind the lines
- S/M VIC HISCOCK
- WE ARE THE SURVIVORS!!!
- WE SURVIVED!!!!!
PART V(The conclusion) Much to my mortification I had been approached by the President of our Mess that because I was the senior rate he would be handing over the chain of office. I asked him to forget it and carry on. There would be no complaints from me. I met my new boss within twenty-four hours. He turned out to be a two ring R.N. bloke - the 1st Lieutenant. I had been appointed Chief of the Messdecks. (I was only one step backwards away from Captain of the Heads!) During our first wander around the ship, Jimmy the One said to me, "I'm giving you a b....ing or putting you in the rattle, but I am unimpressed by the general of your command." He was rather surprised to learn that I had time to change my shift and shorts only once since I came aboard. He had arrived a few hours after me on the same day! A new Jimmy and Chief thus tightened up the routine below decks, though I must admit it had its difficulties when dealing with "greasers, donkeymen and scullions." It was the fust time I had served on a boat carrying T.14X or whatever. (I like to think that they received the message eventually: the Scranbag was busy.) The messing was "yankee" - tin trays with all grub swilling together and all bods sitting wherever to eat same. Quite a few of the crew had nasty blackish boils, mainly on the arms, and I wondered whether this was due to the lack of tablecloths, so I applied for the good old American cloth to be supplied and the tarpots then thought I was a missionary or summat! The ship was fitted with a laundry and a hairdressers, plus a most ornate "goffer" shop. The NAAFI existed of course. We spent days working up for the big-un which was due to commence soon - a landing in Malaya. During the days at sea around Sumatra and other spots, our aircraft, mostly Brewster Buffaloes as I recall, took off and sometimes landed back okay. They often did not, preferring to prang on landing and finish upside down! It was all new to me. My action station was i/c of a "Chicago Piano" (a multi-barrel pom-pom) and as I remember we fired it a couple of times in anger, but not, I am pleased to say, against the Kamikaze geezers! We as a fleet seemed adequate at the moment The Allies were on the attack generally on all fronts. I shared a nice caboosh with one of my new messmates and Bert was often invited to help us yaffle a chicken or so in our holiday home on a warship. Many an evening under the southern skies full of stars, we brothers strolled the flight deck and yarned of many things. They will always remain a memory. Once as we thrashed through a stormy Sundra Straits the loudspeakers chanted, "Man Overboard" and my ticker missed a beat as I wondered whether it was non-swimmer Bert who had missed his footing and took to the 'oggin. It wasn't of course. I had, despite being a Pompey rating, been accepted and the days continued to pass. The day came when the Armada that had been built up set sail for Malaya. We were to assist in the landings at Port Swettenham. Not only were our aircraft to do their bit but some of us were required to land after the brown jobs had scared away the Japs - I hoped. The powers had decided that VJBD would be i/c of Shore Latrines. (At last I was to be Captain of the Heads!!) I received my typed orders containing the names of my assistants - around about ten blokes, mostly stokers, and it was required of me that I was to train my crew in the amusing art of stripping down a Lewis gun, putting it together again, hopefully in the right way, and jolly well firing it if necessary. This routine had to be understood by all of my party before the day of reckoning. We had also been allowed two short Lee Enfield rifles and there was one pistol for the chief "bottle washer". Thus was I armed and ready to take on Tojo! A couple of days before the landing date we received the news that a bomb had been dropped, only the size of a tennis ball (true that) on Japan and a city had disappeared! A couple of days later they lobbed another one and Tojo gave up the game. So I guess I can say the atom bomb was the cause of me never reaching Captain of the Heads status! Following a few days back in Trinco, where we celebrated the real end of the second world war in September, we steamed into Singapore as victors at long last. We had returned or, at least, I had. It was for was for me a poignant time to land again in the city of the Golden World and other well known drinking places - Old World, New World etc. All had changed of course. We helped to form Mountbatten's Guard of Honour when he accepted the surrender and one day put our ship's "glee party" ashore to entertain the ex-POWs and any other bods who needed a taste of lower deck humour. The KHEDIVE was assigned to take the released South African POWs from Changi back to their native soil, and so we sailed to Durban. Here, I again was to visit one of my favourite ports and I was pleased to do so. It seemed that a complete new life was beginning - steaming with all lights visible at night and portholes open instead of being deadlight locked. It was difficult to realize that the conflict had ended. A great relief. The POWs were a pitiful looking bunch of blokes when first released from Changi. However, after a couple of weeks they were beginning to look much better. I like to think that we on the KHEDIVE gave them a good time. Durban turned out in force to welcome them and us. The "lady in black", an opera singer of quality, stood on the harbour wall and sang in her powerful voice her welcoming arias. Many a time in the days of the EMERALD I had listened to her. Our shore runs were as per Durban a delight. A marvellous place for Jolly Jack. Bert and I had a few nice runs I can tell you. We also had a few days leave granted which, if memory serves me correctly, were to cover four days each watch. The hotel, the Dew Drop Inn, looked after us well and the very well used bar where one could look up and see the stars was a delight. The name escapes me for the moment. They were heady days. We returned to Ceylon to await our orders. It was obvious that the KHEDIVE would eventually arrive back in the USA. These escort carriers would form no part of our peacetime fleet that was for sure. Quite a few of the crew were drafted ashore, mostly regulars, and there was a spell when I wondered whether they would put me on the list. (Later I will give my version of why I was not drafted at the time.) I remained a KHEDIVE bloke and so sailed back to the UK. During our journey homewards we disposed of quite a few aircraft. These were ditched by using the catapult. Pieces of the planes were kept as souvenirs and perspex was also removed to be used to make items of jewellery or some such. We never had to use the long route home around the Cape. It was all speed to the Red Sea and the lakes before sliding through the Suez Canal. Once again I was to renew acquaintance with Port Said. Shades of the BARHAM! This had meant that the KHEDIVE had negotiated both the main canals of the world - Panama and Suez. Bert had indeed seen the world plus Malta and Gib. We docked back in Newcastle, unloaded our passengers and the ship prepared to make the trip back across the Atlantic. I had a few words with the Jaunty who, as Master at Arms, had never really crossed swords with me due, I believe sincerely, to the fact that I had trained at the GANGES with his elder brother, Ron Holroyd, who was also with me on the BARHAM. A good oppo of mine, Ron, from Redcar. The suggestion from me was, "Jaunts, I am a Pompey rating and you don't want me hanging around in Guzz if I make the steaming trip back to the USA. 'Owsabout me taking a puff puff back to Whale Island?" The idea was mooted by Young Holroyd to the powers that be and they concurred. I thus travelled down to Euston and journeyed across the Big Smoke to Waterloo, not to take the train to Portsmouth, but the one to Blackheath. We had worked out near enough when the steaming crew would be back so I nicked a couple of weeks unofficial leave. Leaving the main part of my kit, hammock and bag at the Forces Left Luggage place at Waterloo, I nipped home to Dornberg! The outcome of this piece of skullduggery was that when I returned for my kit there was no trace of it! I rollocked the RTO who said that the rules stated twenty-four hours storage only. I then played "nutty as a fruitcake" and pleaded with him to find my missing gear and send it down to Whale Island. It all arrived eventually. I renewed old friendships at the Island and sampled again the delights of Hammerton's Nut Brown during the dinner breaks in the lovely canteen, which was part of the Mess. I had officially left the KHEDIVE on the 4th of January, 1946 and for the few weeks until the 25th of February I instructed a class of AA3s at Eastney. They were not really interested; they were mainly all waiting to demob. I used to commute to Blackheath nearly every evening and catch the 4.15 back at Blackheath the following morning! I had to walk across the heath, of course, but it was worth every blister! Providing I made the Portsmouth connection I was okay. We appeared to be living in a fairyland, that is the whole of the UK. Nobody fully realized that the scrapping was allover. It was the birth of cloud cuckoo routine - enjoy it while you can. The days of real hardship were to come, believe me. I received a draft chit - emergency - one afternoon and only just managed to contact Trix by phone. (I was due home that night!) "Report to FORMIDABLE" in Pompey dockyard. "Relieve a GI who had a broken leg (climbing out of someone else's bed, I guess). " FORMIDABLE seemed to cast off at the next tide. We were bound for Sydney! Ah well, let's have a looksee at Aussie land! It was a bind, but could not be helped. The ship was to be used as a trooper. Bunks were rigged in the now plane free hangars and we were working the ship with a greatly reduced crew on the way out. Homeward journeys we worked the matelots who were being brought back home. Several trips were taken in the FORMIDABLE. We picked up all types of service people, including women, from Australia, Singapore, Colombo and even Aden. Once again I was to wander my feet thro' Singapore and Colombo streets. Xmas '46 I spent at Trincomalee. My duties were quite easy: just make a lot of noise now and again and to make sure that the Gunners' Party kept all the weaponry in Al condition. I became so tanned that I could easily be mistaken for a Dhobi Wallah! We used to rig up a .22 rifle range on the forepart of the flight deck and I used to take classes of WRNS, ATS and WAAF firing the pop guns at targets set up almost at the end of the ship. It helped to pass the long sunny days covering the passage across the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. The trooping duties were duly completed and we were sent to Rosyth to be mothballed. Here the FORMID was to swing at a buoy with just sufficient of we bods to keep the fans working. Four of us wee officers carried out OOW duties, basically 24 on, 24 off. We were under the command of a three ringer who was assisted by a few two ringers. The Forth Bridge became our only point of interest, seeking out the painters who are always sloshing colour over the poor old ironwork. CAFOs were issued as usual and one of them was to state the magic words, "As from such and such C/S Chiefs and Petty Officers can purchase their ticket". I was ashore to the Main Office like a shot, grabbed the Paymaster Lieutenant before he took lunch and a dram and asked him to set the wheels in motion. I wished to give up the Dabtoe Lark and become a Master Builder! What aplomb! It was to cost me 24 pounds! I travelled south to the VICTORY and was duly set free. The day was the 10th June 1947. There had been plenty of water flowing under various bridges since the 27th May 1935 and I had almost walked on some! EPILOGUE 1. Researching my "History Sheets" (RN) I was again to note that for a period I was shown as being drafted to PEMBROKE (Chatham) for an Upper Yardsman's Course. This was 1940. I never left the Emerald during the years of her commission. I wonder often what my fate would have been had I left her and attempted the course. Upper Yardsmen were "subbies" from the Lower Deck, commonly known as mates. Could I have organised a Brass Hat eventually? The mind boggles. We can but guess why I was not to take the training. It was to be years later that all fell into place. 2. During brother Bert's almost three year stint in KHEDIVE he was only once put in the rattle and that was by me for appearing on the Right Deck answering the call "Clear Lower Deck" improperly dressed, to wit minus a cap. He was one of a cotchell that had offended the power that was and it fell to me to smack them in the Commander's report. Needless to say he defended himself against the charge very cleverly and the poor old Commander was the one we all felt sorry for. In getting himself cleared of janker punishment he also caused two other geezers to have their charges dismissed. (I never did get him to double round the flight deck carrying a .303" !) 3. The FORMIDABLE's trooping days to Sydney were to be used for shopping expeditions. Materials and suchlike that were unobtainable in the UK were readily purchased by us. On one trip we called in at Colombo and among a number of passengers picked up, there was the ex-Drafting Commander East Indies. It was Nat Gould! He had been relieved. One evening when taking a stroll on the flight deck, he watched us play deck hockey and as I came off the pitch he ambled across and after remarking about my cackhandedness with the hockey stick asked me if we managed to get deck hockey organised on the trip back to the UK aboard KHEDIVE in '46. We never did. Later on the passage as we were due to visit Malta for a day or so, we met once more and he then said. "You spent enough time in the Far East." (Bert was very pleased to visit the "Gyppo Queen" and other well known habitats of entertainment on the GC Island. I even showed him the Cairo in Sliema.) I am also pretty sure he fiddled my chitty back to UK. THE END ____________________________________________________________________ T.S. COSSACK (Barry Unit Sea Cadet Corps) In 2002 S/M’s Frank Spendelow, Dai Rees and Mike Kruck, all of whom live within reasonable travelling distance of the Barry Sea Cadet Headquarters attended the annual inspection and presented the unit with some photographs and other memorabilia. When an invitation was received by the Secretary this year he naturally turned to these again. However, Frank is not now able to get around so well and Mike’s wife couldn’t be left. Dai Rees (D57 1958-60) came up trumps though and Peter Harrison also decided to make the trip too to show some solidarity and support for the unit which bears our ships’ name. The snag as far as P.H. was concerned was that it was due to start at 19.15 hrs and Barry is 140 miles from Fleet. However, he made it on time and met up with Dai and his wife in the hall of the South Wales RNVR headquarters close by the Sea Cadets’ HQ. There were a number of parents there too, eagerly awaiting the performances of their sons, or daughters. As it happened, the C.O. arrived about 15 minutes late which, considering the unit’s staff and instructors have to work first and then fit all this in afterwards, is easily understood. The Area Commander, who was carrying out the inspection, explained that this evening was the final part in a series of inspections by others on his staff who had been monitoring performance during the year. The cadets marched in and gave a number of demonstrations of their expertise, including one on knots and splices. These over, the cadets were formed up into their divisions and were inspected by the Area Commander. In these days when there are so many temptations for the youngsters, it was a pleasure to see them so enthusiastic in performing the tasks given them by the inspection team. A See ‘REUNIONS’ Web page t the end of the evening, the Peter Harrison made a short speech thanking them for inviting us and, in particular, thanking all those who gave up their time to run the unit and instruct the cadets. He then presented the Association’s cheque for £100 to the Commanding Officer. Below are two photographs of some of the cadets taken during the inspection. See ‘REUNIONS’ Web page I couldn’t help wondering whether I was quite as small as some of these cadets when I joined the Sea Cadets many years ago. It’s like this thing about policemen looking younger as we get older! NB: S/M Peter Taylor has expressed an interest in attending any future visits to the unit. If anyone else would be interested too, please let the Secretary know. ____________________________________________________________________ MEMORIAL TO THE BATTLES OF NARVIK Thanks to Anne Smith, Associate Member, we have now got a photograph of the new Narvik memorial which was unveiled last year, Anne’s late father, C.P.O. David Grant DSM, provided us with a graphic account of the 2nd Battle of Narvik and subsequently got in touch with the Norwegian boys who came down to Cossack whilst she was aground. As a result Anne has a very extensive archive about those times. Picture of Narvik Memorial S/M Larry Hazell was going over to Norway in May to attend the commemoration ceremonies there. He took advantage of the Heroes Return Scheme. This scheme can provide funding for such visits and details can be obtained from the Veterans Agency on 0800 169 2277. _____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________ S/M VIC HISCOCK Vic passed over the bar on 23rd October 2003 and, at the funeral service, a letter to him from one of his many friends was read out. We thought that you might like to read it too. A Goodbye letter to Vic from Vern Dear Vic, I heard this morning that you left this world last night. My sympathy must go to those who helped you with your fight. You earned your place in history, When Britain went to war, By serving in the Navy like lots of blokes before. That quaint old war was different From the wars we fight today. We had no mobile phones you see To tell Mum we’re OK. A million kids that’s all we were, just thrown into the fray, A lot of us were volunteers who came to rue the day But there was a job to do, to finish the bloody Hun. You and me and a few others too soon had him on the run. The way was hard but so were we And the rest of Britain too, Resilience was our second name And resilience saw us through. So goodnight Vic and all the best from a mate who knew you well You paid your dues to this funny old life And you really rang your bell. Our thanks to Betty for passing that on. _____________________________________________________________________ WE ARE THE SURVIVORS!!! For all those born before 1940, we celebrate - because we are here! Consider the things we have witnessed …. We were born before Polio shots, plastics, contact lenses, frisbees and transplants, and a Package Tour meant biking with a tent and you lunch in a brown paper bag. We were before deep freezers, air conditioners, split atoms, laser beams, and before man walked on the moon. In OUR time, closets were for clothes, not for “coming out of”. Bunnies were small rabbits, and dishes were for washing, not for receiving programmes from outer space. Designer Jeans were scheming girls, and having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins! We thought fast food was what you ate during Lent and Cold Turkey was what you ate on Boxing Day. We were before househusbands, gay rights, computer dating, dual careers and computer marriages. Divorce was something that happened to film stars. We were before day-care centres, group therapy and community homes. We played with Dinky Toys, wore Liberty bodices, flannel shirts, and took daily doses of Cod Liver Oil and Malt and, under certain circumstances, SENNA PODS!
____________________________________________________________________ If Teflon is non-stick, how do they fix it to the pan? Why is abbreviation a long word? ____________________________________________________________________ We haven’t heard a lot from John Batty in Australia recently where he has been rather unwell of late. Our best wishes to him for a speedy recovery and our thanks for the following: A lawyer was trying to console a weeping and distraught widow whose husband had died unexpectedly without leaving a will. Did the deceased have any last words before he passed away? You mean right at the moment before he died? Yes, they might be helpful it it is not too painful for you to recall. Well, she responded, he said, “Don’t you try to scare me, you couldn’t hit the side of a barn with that gun!!” ____________________
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