Editor's Column: Faint Footsteps, World War II (16A)

Soon Amidships, Soon in Gibraltar

(Stories of "Dad's Navy Days" Continues)

My father wrote, "...Riena (sic) Del Pacifico served (us) well..."

Norwich Gazette, circa 1992 - 1993

Introduction:

"Dad's Navy Days" began in June, 1941, when he enlisted with the Canadian Navy's Volunteer Reserve (RCNVR) in Hamilton, Ontario. They ended on September 5, 1945, when he was officially discharged in the same city one day before his 25th birthday. 

Note the last line in the photo of his Navy records below:

"Discharged, Demobilized to date 5 Sept. 1945" aka "I'm outta here!"

A few weeks later he was back at work at the Norwich Co-op

Doug H. 'holding up his truck' (loaded with fence posts) at the main

intersection in Norwich, Ontario (circa 1940s)

I continue to share his Canadian Navy and Combined Operations memoirs in short bursts, as seen below, this burst coming to you from amidships, off the coast of North Africa, 1942.

Soon Amidships, Soon in Gibraltar

“The clank of the anchor cable... in the hawse pipe” meant the anchor of the Reina Del Pacifico was being stowed deep inside the ship (to many sailors the sound also meant "we're on our way home!"), and the gang plank soon followed, with all sailors on board safe and dry. Such things my father recalled both in Navy memoirs, scribbly hand-written notes put down in the early- to mid-1970s (at the age of 50 - 55 years old), and in weekly, nicely typed newspaper columns for the Norwich Gazette in the early- to mid-1990s, when 20 years older, about the age that I am now. 

Excerpt from the Norwich Gazette, circa 1993

While hearing the distinctive sounds in his mind of anchor cable and gangplanks being moved about, and while sitting safely at a table inside his home in Norwich, Ontario - pen in hand, poised to write - he relived the scene of his first sustained Navy and wartime action during WWII, that is, Operation Torch.

Torch, the Allied invasion of North Africa, took place in the early days of November, 1942, when my father was a 22-year-old, and only ten months removed from his arrival in the United Kingdom to begin training in 'special duties' related to handling various types of landing craft. 'Special duties' that he and his close-knit mates in the Effingham Division (from HMCS Stadacona, Halifax) had only first learned about in theory - with just the use of discussion and diagrams - at HMS Northney on Hayling Island (southern England). Early class lessons were eventually followed by 'hands on' experience and the repeated, practical use of landing crafts in Irvine and Inveraray, Scotland, beginning (according to his records) in April of '42, six to seven months before the actual invasion.

The Effingham Division at HMCS Stadacona,  Halifax, N.S., 1941

A wartime photograph of a drawing of a 'landing craft, assault' or LCA, two views

mounted on card. One of a series of photographic reproductions of D. Moira

Cruickshank's landing craft. Photo Credit - The D-Day Story, Portsmouth

And though in just a matter of a few hours he and his mates were safe and sound “inside the submarine nets at Gibraltar” with "organized bridge and crib tournaments” on his agenda (the winners, Dad included, got to lay claim to "their opponents' tot of rum"), his mind turned to the many long hours and days and nights of training (aboard LCAs and LCMs) he'd undergone for Operation Torch (for the Dieppe Raid as well as), and the main 'lessons learned' related to his role as a Canadian sailor who had, for eleven long and tiring days and nights, transported soldiers and all materials of war to assigned beaches in sturdy landing crafts.

He writes: 

The job of the seaman on an ALC or LCM (Landing Craft, Mechanised) is to let the bow door down and wind it up by means of a winch situated in the stern of the barge. This winch is divided so you can drop a kedge (anchor) possibly about 100 or so feet from shore depending on the tide. If it is going out you can unload and then put motors full astern, wind in the kedge and pull yourself off of breach. 

"Pull yourself off of breach?" Did he mean "the beach?" No. Breach (and broach), when related to a landing craft, means it is turned at a bad angle related to the tide, and is getting into a position where it could be flipped over by strong tidal or wave action. In the photo below, from the invasion of North Africa, November 10, 1942, we see a sailor (far left, looks like my father!) who is handling a rope (an anti-broaching line) to keep the LCA in the direction of the tide, whether going in or out. He may have called for another line - a soldier seems to be bringing it to him. 

Caption: American troops landing on the beach at Arzeu, near Oran, from a

landing craft assault (LCA 426), some of them are carrying boxes of supplies. 

Photo Credit: RN photographer Lt. F.A. Hudson, A12649, IWM

Here is a definition I located that is useful: Anti-broaching lines are ropes rigged to a landing boat to prevent or correct a "broach," which is when a boat's bow or stern swings uncontrollably sideways, potentially leading to capsizing. 

Dad is perhaps recalling that he learned how to control the position of a landing craft by using only the motor and anchor cable. And he likely saw this safety measure in action as well as in training. And if the sailor holding the anti-broaching line is not my father, it is surely him who is sitting on 'what looks like a barrel' on the landing craft! A front row seat, I say.

He also uses the word 'breach' again below:

The tide is very important and constantly watched. If it is going out (on the ebb) and you are slow, you can be left high and dry, and if so, you stay with the barge. If the tide is on the make (flowing in) you use the kedge to keep you from swinging sideways on breach. In this case your kedge would be out only a short ways. After much practice, however, the kedge can be forgotten and everything done by engines and helm. Each barge has two engines.

I think Dad included these two paragraphs about his training because all of his practice paid off during his time near Arzeu in North Africa. No landing craft got flipped over. No officer chewed him out for slowing down the transport of troops and all of their supplies. In fact, he may have been thinking back and realizing he did a pretty fine job when needed, even though he didn't get fed for the first four days.

Another reason the two paragraphs stand out as somewhat special - at least in my humble opinion - is because his 'lessons learned' are very similar to those addressed in The Green Beret: The Story of the Commandos 1940 - 45 by Hilary St. George Saunders.

To be continued. 

More stories related to Dad's Navy Days will follow.

Please click here to read Editor's Column: FAINT FOOTSTEPS, World War II (15)

Unattributed Photos GH