I knew I held treasure in my hand as soon as I read the name ‘C.Levett’ under a faded photo from Sicily, 1943. I also held the knowledge in mind that I was meeting for the first time Dorothy (Dot) Levett, age 90 and very likely the widow of C. Levett, in two days.
And very shortly after turning from the photo to the next page in ‘Combined Operations’, I knew I’d stumbled upon another treasure.
The first paragraph in a story entitled ‘Combined Operations in Sicily and Italy’ (reminiscences of a Canadian LCM Flotilla Engineer Officer) was littered with priceless gold coins: “Hey boys, here’s the best buzz that I’ve sprouted in weeks!” called ‘Eppus’ Murphy to the boys in the mess at a certain base in Scotland, (i.e.,) Roseneath, early in the month of March, 1943. These same boys, Canadian sailors who had been in Combined Operations for well over a year, were not impressed with this sudden announcement.” (pg. 90)
I rolled the coins happily around in my mind as a pirate would in his hand. I knew a ‘buzz’ was a rumour about upcoming operations or assignments, often started by sailors who received a mere hint of good information from usually tight-lipped officers. I knew ‘Eppus’ thanks to a story my dad wrote about a man and his pet monkey in the Norwich Gazette in the early 1990s. I knew Dad had eaten meals in the same mess, at about the same time, so felt the ‘Canadian sailors’ surely included one dear to me.
Of course, without being there (though they were in the 80th Flotilla together), I can’t be sure Dad was in the group of sailors listening to ‘Eppus’ share the best buzz in weeks, but a subsequent paragraph filled me with even more satisfaction.
[“Part of the crew of The Silver Walnut”]
The story writer, a Flotilla Engineer Officer, met with other Officers of the Flotilla after their trip from the UK to Sicily by way of South Africa, and relates the following from a late night bull-session: “Dave, one of our Officers in charge of a goodly number of Ratings, spent ninety days on the trip, while others of us had arrived in five or six weeks. His particular ship had unfortunately encountered engine trouble and several times they were floating with both engines stopped in the middle of nowhere with probably unknown numbers of enemy subs lurking in the same waters. However, some providence brought them into port safely at last. There was great rejoicing on their arrival, for we had begun to fear that if they did arrive (i.e., any later), it would be too late for our first operation.”
I felt more gold coins were mine to have and to hold. Officer Dave was most likely Sub./Lt. Dave Rodgers from the S.S. Silver Walnut, a ‘dud’ of a ship (so said my father), that continually ‘encountered engine trouble’ on its way around Africa to Port Said, Egypt.
[“The S.S. Silver Walnut. A dud or dandy?”]
In his memoirs, Dad recounts several stoppages aboard the Walnut that would shatter the confidence of any sailor in their ship. About one such incident he writes the following: “We spent eight or nine days in Cape Town, maybe longer, then started out with the old Silver Walnut again. Stop, stop, stop - and damn it was hot! Our middies turned yellow from white because of the sun. We couldn’t step on the deck, it was so hot.” (pg. 29, “DAD, WELL DONE”)
I recalled other aspects of his writing. For example, though Dad said the Silver Walnut was a dud after his first inspection of the ship, he later changed his mind and spoke highly of it. After finally reaching Egypt and learning that many of his friends were suffering greatly as a result of dysentery, contracted in the desert, he mentioned a Silver lining in his ship’s slow transport.
And the best gold coin of all? I was aboard a train taking me toward the Esquimalt Naval Museum, at which I was meeting the museum curator, by prior arrangement, and see a rare Navy hammock, one from the Silver Walnut from 1943. It was the hammock given to Sub./Lt. Dave Rodgers when he went aboard the ship. It was the one he returned to the Canadian Navy in 1986 at a navy Reunion in Australia in the hope it would become a valued artifact.
["The ship's crew from 1943 is neatly listed
above the insignia of Combined Operstions"]
Since the hammock’s return to Canada, I think it has become a very important Navy artifact. And though my father never saw the hammock, he was delighted to see pictures of it taken by other members of the Walnut’s crew.
In my mind, it was one artifact I very much wanted to see during my fifteen-day trip west since very few tangible items remain from that era. The Walnut is gone, most of the sailors aboard are very likely gone, and footsteps grow fainter with each passing day.
At about 9 p.m. on Day 4 of my trip west, I closed the book ‘Combined Operations’ after finishing the Flotilla Engineer Officer’s contribution. I tried, without much luck, to get comfortable in my Economy class seat. A sound sleep eluded me, but not heart-warming thoughts.
[“Look at who are listed together! D. Harrison,
Ont., and E. Murphy, Sask. Good night!”]
Gold coins I had in abundance.
***
Please click here to read “GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Chasing my dad Part 8
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