Dad's Navy Days - Gord's Stellar Research (1).

'You've Got Mail' From Vancouver Island, May 2016.

At the White Whale Restaurant, beside Courtenay Slough. Cheers!

Three times I have visited Vancouver Island (specifically Victoria, Esquimalt, Comox, Courtenay, Gladstone Brewery) in the last few years in order to conduct research related to my Dad's WW2 experiences as a member of RCNVR and Combined Operations. I feel each trip has been very worthwhile and good information has been uncovered at libraries, archives, museums and Navy bases. 'Walk abouts' and conversations or 'sit downs' at pubs are helpful too.

While away I emailed home to let my family know I was alive and well. On occasion I mentioned a few words or included a photo related to my research. Naturally, I suffered failures on several occasions or felt empty-handed because so much time has passed since my father served at a Combined Operations Training Centre (Givenchy III). Other times I could celebrate success and feel positive about not only trips to the Island but others planned for the future.

I 'celebrate success' in the following email:

Subject: Courtenay Slough, May 23, 2016

Hi Family,

I write this while enjoying my first coffee of the morning. I include a photo I took yesterday while enjoying a pint and chips at the White Whale Pub. The pub's deck overlooks the Courtenay Slough, used as a parking lot for boats to this day.

Dad would have parked landing crafts here, and walk a quarter mile with his buddies to the Riverside Hotel for pints, or to a movie at the Bickle Theatre next door, and maybe to a dance at Native Sons Hall, an impressive building next in line on the same street.

I cut my stay at White Whale short because the Memorial Cup games begin on TV at four pm. London Knights play today so I will come home for that game too.

The Courtenay library is closed, no microfiche for me, so I may bus it to Cumberland for their festivities (May 24th weekend). Their museum could also be closed, will check first. Big mining town in the forties, should be lots of good old buildings to stare at.

Hugs to all, Gord.

Not only did my London Knights go on to win the Memorial Cup but I greatly enjoyed the Victoria day festivities in Cumberland. Their museum was closed but a lively brew pub was open. As well, when I parked myself at the White Whale beside the Courtenay Slough I felt I was very close to a lively hub (or center of activities) enjoyed by young Canadian men and women during WW2. The former Combined Ops training centre at Comox (now HMCS Quadra) was close by as was Courtenay's town centre, with some buildings still standing that my father and his mates in the Combined Operations organization commonly frequented about 70 years ago.

Related Photographs:

 

 Navy No. 1 Ball Team, Lewis Park, Courtenay, 1944-45. Slough nearby.

 Wooden landing craft, parked in Courtenay Slough

 Old card displayed at Simms Park near Courtenay Slough

 Commemorative plaque at Simms Park, 50 metres from the Slough

 Riverside Hotel is up the hill, right, behind the tall trees. Slough is back left.
Lewis Park is back right. Bridge crosses the Courtenay River.

Hotel in late 1940s with Bickle Theatre and Dance Hall behind it.

 Native Sons (Dance) Hall still stands. Bickle (gone) was to the right.

 Riverside Hotel was destroyed in the 1960s.

Three members of Combined Operations at Givenchy III, on The Spit.

Comox is in the background, Courtenay 2 miles left of Comox. 

Doug Harrison (center) trained "Zombies on Navy cutters"

More to follow.

Please link to Canadians in Combined Operations

Photos GH

West Coast Trip 2012

Whistle Stop in Edmonton

"This is the last scene I snapped before

arriving in Edmonton, hours later"

Earlier this morning I was thinking about my first trip to Vancouver Island in 2012 (I returned this past May). What a great place to do research re the Combined Operations organization my father was a member of during WW2. And what a great train ride to get there. Today I post four photos related to the 10 minutes I spent outside the train in Edmonton. Chilly, bright day.

 "My first photo while stopped in Edmonton. Great train ride"

 "Edmonton wakes up while I try for a phone signal"

"This is the first photo I snapped after leaving Edmonton.

And what do I see exactly? I'll need help w the answer."  

Link to West Coast Trip 2015

Photos GH

West Coast Trip 2015 - Prep 1

The Work Begins

["I travelled to the West Coast by train in 2012"]

In April. 2012, I travelled to Canada's West Coast by train in what I call now 'a door-opening trip'. At the time I knew my father had served with the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve and an organization called Combined Operations during WW2 and had spent the last two years of the war (Jan. 1944 - Sept. 1945) on Vancouver Island in friendlier, safer surroundings than while in Europe from January 1942 - December, 1943. About his time on the West Coast he wrote, "It was heaven." And I wanted to see for myself.

["My 2012 hostel was behind J. McPhees, lower right; Navy boys

on leave stayed in nearby Riverside Hotel (uphill w shaded porch"]

For a few days in 2012 I wandered around Courtenay and Comox (towns a 2-hour drive north of Victoria) learning this and that about Dad's Navy days, getting a sense of the environment and activities he described briefly in his Navy memoirs. I met two women in their nineties who remembered him quite well and explored a dance hall where he spent more than a few Saturday nights. And at the end of my short visit I knew I would have to return.

["To 1940s Navy base - walk to end of pier, wait for a ship"]

Plans are in the works. I now have an important list of tasks to complete in order to be on a return trip this coming May. The following have to be checked off asap:

     book flight from London to Comox, and return

     book accommodation for Comox (3 days)
     and Courtenay (5 days)

     reconnect w Navy base at Comox (firm
     contact/entry is assured this time = yahooo!)

     reconnect w Courtenay Library and Archive
     (re newspaper microfiche files and photograph
     negatives, WW2 vintage, I already know they
     have a pile of them = yahoooo!)

     new pair of travel pants and walking shoes

     look for bike rentals

     save up me money fer a couple of good meals

Off we go to work.

Link to Scotland 2014 Photos

Photos GH

Scotland 2014

Step One

So, I've bought my tickets.

Now all I have to do is plan a full, two-week-long itinerary in 14 days.

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

Favourite Photos: "in Toronto"

In April, 2012, I had a few hours to kill in Toronto before my train went west to BC. And I had money in my pocket. Time, money, and anticipation in Toronto - a lovely combo.

["Suzuki Marauder 250cc, like my old bike"]

["Walking toward a highly recommended restaurant"]

["Inside the entrance to C'est What?]

Link to Favourite Photos

Photos by GH

Dad's Navy Days: August 1943 - Malta (9)

On some maps Malta appears as a tiny speck of an island south of Sicily and The Narrows. But to about 250 Canadian Navy men, seventy years ago this month, it was a significant and safe place for a much-needed break from their hard work - associated with the occupation of Sicily - before returning north for the September invasion of Italy with Allied forces.

["It was a significant, safe place" in August, 1943;

Map from pg. xi, SIEGE: MALTA 1940 - 1943]

Malta was a place for rest, handfuls of pills, recuperation, mail call, ship and landing craft repair, and heartier meals than had been served during the capture of Sicily in the previous month. It was also a place for the Navy men - many in charge of battered landing crafts - to think about what was coming up next.

In the reminiscences of a Canadian LCM Flotilla Engineer Officer I find the following details:

     While in Malta several cases of malaria, sand-fly fever
     and desert sores developed. Some were cured in time
     to sail with us and those that had to remain were sincerely
     disappointed for after the fall of Sicily it was quite easy to
     guess our next move would to be into Italy itself and they
     wanted to be in on the mainland job.
     [pg. 98, COMBINED OPERATIONS by Clayton Marks, London]  

My father was one of many men placed on a 'rest and handfuls of pills' regimen because of dysentery, and in the early 1990s he wrote a newspaper article about his time in Malta. Apparently, the invasion of Italy did not dominate his thoughts.

Part of the article follows:

Food, sustenance and mail were found on Malta

     At the end of the Sicilian campaign several Canadian

     sailors and officers became ill. Fatigue brought on by

     long hours of work and poor nourishment for over a

     month had now taken its toll and showed up in various

     ways. Salt water sores, rashes, sunburn, dysentery,

     things we hadn’t time to bother with before now began

     to manifest themselves.

     Fear was now gone and the inaction caused many to

     have letdowns. Many had not relaxed for weeks and

     now that it was over they had difficulty handling it.

     Mail from home would have helped at a time like this;

     most of us hadn’t had mail since April and it was now

     the middle of August. I would have given my right arm

     for a cool drink of Norwich water and Sweet Caporal

     cigarettes from the Women’s War league.

     [The Norwich Gazette, circa 1992]

Water from his hometown, a free smoke and mail. All father wanted were a few simple pleasures but his wishes were quickly pushed aside after getting orders from a ship's doctor to report to Hill 10 Hospital. Dysentery was taking its toll.

Father continues: 

     Malta isn’t very large and by asking a few natives I 
     found my way to the hospital, dragged right out.
     I wandered in and reported my condition to one of
     the English orderlies. I’ll never forget how cheerful
     his reply was in that Godforsaken place. 

     “Oh, we’ll soon cure that, Canada.”
     “Yeah? How?” I said.
     “We’ll starve you for a week.”
     (So, what else was new?)

     But I was in no condition to argue and for a few days

     I found out how severe dysentery can be, and hunger

     was no stranger to me, but after four or five days the

     staff relented and gave me a little boiled cabbage.

     Here was FOOD and SUSTENANCE  and I suffered very

     few side affects. I was on my way, even my ribs looked

     better.

["Malta was called 'George Cross Island'
by many who stopped there"]

     After about 10 days I was given a clean bill of health and

     released to wander freely about Malta and wait for my

     comrades who were late coming from Sicily in landing craft.

     I found a vacant array of Air Force tents to sleep in and

     was fortunate to scrounge some food from the natives.

     I thought I had it tough - but I couldn’t hold a candle to

     these folks. I investigated a bit of the catacombs where

     many slept and lived through the intense bombing raids -

     no wonder the island was awarded the George Cross.

Though father didn't get to enjoy a glass of Norwich water for a few more months, he did eventually get his Sweet Caps and mail. All the while preparations for the invasion of Italy took place around him. But did he take much notice?

["Doug Harrison on leave, circa 1943"]

More to follow.

***

Please click here to read Dad's Navy Days: August 1943 - Malta (8)

“GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Photos from along the way (21)

[“Another item at the museum caught my full attention.   In the RCN room, closed to the public by means of a laminated sign - “Closed for Refurbishment” - and one black curtain, was a poster used by the Canadian Navy to draw new recruits into the service.” Chasing my dad Part 15]

Photos from April 26 - Day 6 of my trip to Vancouver Island

I spent a rewarding time in the Maritime Museum of BC. Display boards were stocked with excellent photos, displays and descriptions. If Dad had been along, we would have missed lunch and supper too.

From the note board under the MN badge: “In WWII, the merchant fleet grew from 38 vessels to approximately 200. Merchant sailors were vital in transporting cargo across the Atlantic, and were unofficially classified as the fourth branch of the military. The merchant navy had a higher casualty rate than the other 3 branches of the military - 1 in 10 lost their lives - but they were unable to reap the benefits of veteran status because they were not recognized as part of the military.”

For more details about life on the Atlantic during WWII, please read A Measureless Peril: America in the fight for the Atlantic, the longest battle of WWII, by Richard Snow.

[“I left the museum and prepared a late lunch at

the hostel. Its door is guarded by a flowering tree”

[“My fine hostel digs. Eight cozy bunks per cubby”]

[“After lunch I explored the harbour path”]

[“Birkenstocks vs Harbour Boats? Birkenstocks!”]

[“Oh, I could live in Victoria!”]

[A lovely bronze of a Navy man coming home.

Note brief case in lower left corner.”]

A large engraved stone explains the bronze: 100th Anniversary of the Canadian Navy ...this statue is dedicated to the tens of thousands of Canadians who answered both the call of their country and of the sea through service in Canada’s Navy. From cities, towns, villages and First Nations communities, they

stepped forward to stand their watch at sea through two World wars, War in Korea, the Cold War, the first Gulf War and the War on Terrorism. These ordinary man and women were extraordinary in their accomplishments and helped shape the history of Canada as a great maritime nation. This statue... represents the special moment in sailors lives when they return from the sea to once again meet their family. May 4, 2010” 

[“The Teddy is in the briefcase!”]

In June, 2010 (one month after the statue was unveiled) I buried my dad at sea - in the Atlantic, near Halifax - in SS Silver Walnut 2.

More photos from the harbor walk to follow.

[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here to view Photos from along the way (20)

“GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Chasing my dad Part 15

[“I felt at home inside the workshop and happy to stick my toe into prohibited territory on a day when the Minister of Defence was busy shopping for F-35s, so, no Navy brig for me. And the day only seemed to get better.” June 15, Chasing my dad Part 14]

April 26 - Day 6 of my trip to Vancouver Island

The morning of April 26 past swimmingly. I helped unwrap a Navy hammock from 1943 with my dad’s name upon it. I also toured the Esquimalt Navy Base with an informative guide. 

By 12:30 my emotions ran high and my brain felt ‘full to over-flowing.’ But, because of an afternoon appointment, I also felt I shouldn’t pause to reflect or dawdle.

My journal for the day says, “When done, off I walk to nearest bus stop. Esquimalt 6 (bus), downtown in 10 - 15 minutes, easy kap-easy, (dropped off) 100 meters from hostel! ...Shite! App’t at Maritime Museum of BC @ 1:00-ish. I change gear (warm it is) and go. No lunch.”

Fortunately, the museum was only two blocks away from the hostel and I arrived at 1:10 p.m., hardly late, just in time to learn the yellow tape surrounding the entrance had been put there by police due to a robbery at a store nearby. It was soon removed, however, by the museum employee I had agreed to meet in order to see certain rooms pertaining to the Navy. How convenient, I thought at the time, but things did not go as planned.

My journal says, “Cuyler Page, the man I am to meet, doesn’t recall my emails or his note to take me on tour of ‘closed for reno’ RN and RCN exhibits. (I’m) disappointed to a degree but I make headway in 2 ways. 1. I tour (museum’s) storage area. I love backrooms (off limits to general public)!! 2. I slip thru gate and curtains and tour RCN (exhibit) by myself... very quietly.”

Left to my own devices, I succeeded in finding several items worthy of attention.

One of the first was a Navy rum ‘tot’ measure. It reminded me of an opportunistic quality in my Dad, who, in mid-July, 1943, at the age of 23 and off the coast of Sicily, helped unload - then carefully hide - a shipment of ‘Officers Rum’ aboard his landing craft.

In a column he wrote for The Norwich Gazette in the early 1990s (his hometown weekly paper), he describes the episode, in part, in the following way:

"One day, about day three, a large net full of wooden cases landed on my landing craft. Stencilled on the side of each case were the words NAVY RUM; destination Officers’ Mess. I decided that the Officers’ mess was in the engine room of our LCM. I never worked so hard and enjoyed it so much in my life."

In another version of the story, submitted to publishers of books related to Combined Operations, he added the following details:

Question: Did the rum reach the Officers’ Mess?

P.S. I certainly did not help drink the Officers’ rum and I never will again.

Though I appreciate the mischievous humour in his last line, I do know there is some truth to it as well, because in the early 1970s he joined Alcoholics Anonymous and I never saw him ‘touch a drop’ for the rest of his life.

["Only a sign and curtain in the way? Step aside!"]

Another item at the museum caught my full attention. In the RCN room, closed to the public by means of a laminated sign - “Closed for Refurbishment” - and one black curtain, was a poster used by the Canadian Navy to draw new recruits into the service. 

Though the once red and black printer’s ink had faded greatly, and it was not illuminated by overhead lights (I didn’t dare turn them on; I didn’t want to get turfed from the closed room) the message was clear enough:

DEPARTMENT OF NATIONAL DEFENCE

NAVAL SERVICE

MEN WANTED

FOR THE

ROYAL CANADIAN NAVAL VOLUNTEER SERVICE

Details concerning ‘Pay and Allowances’ followed, e.g., (in part) Canadian Naval rates of pay will be paid to men of the Reserve Force whilst undergoing annual training at Naval bases... An extra $5.00 will be paid each year to Reservists on completing 40 or more drills during the year. 

Though ‘Navy pay’ and bonuses might have caught my dad’s eye as a 20-year old in 1940, I was aware, having typed up his memoirs into book form just a few months earlier, that he was drawn to serve in the navy for other reasons too.

More to follow.

[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here for “GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Chasing my dad Part 14

“GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Photos from along the way (20)

[“I felt grateful on the day. When I asked if that was a hawser on his workbench Mr. Shafer said it was, so I didn’t feel like a complete goof. I felt glad to have spotted it and that it connected me - with the strongest of cords - to my father.” Chasing my dad Part 14]

Photos from April 26, Day 6 of my trip to Vancouver Island

Do you like museums? I do, especially ones with restricted rooms.

Shortly after leaving the Esquimalt Naval Base I entered the Maritime Museum of BC, only two blocks from my hostel. 

Though I was barred from one important room, according to a sign, velvet rope and black curtain, I found a way to sneak in (by moving the rope and slipping behind the curtain) and found many treasures.

For example, I found a WWII photo of a convoy forming in Bedford Basin, Halifax. My father may very well have been on one of those ships, as he was part of the first RCNVR class to be shipped overseas in 1941.

[“A bit of history about dad’s beloved RCNVR. He

didn’t sign up because of the pay, that’s for sure.”]

[“The rum tot reminded me of one of dad’s ‘Navy

Days’ stories published in our hometown paper”]

[“Dad mentioned that he trained at HMCS Niobe

in Scotland, circa 1942, in his Naval memoirs”]

[“I spotted a model of the Esquimalt shipyard locks;

I’d seen the real thing just hours earlier.”]

[“An old map of the Esquimalt Naval Base, the place I’d

tramped around in the morning, caught my eye.”]

After a late lunch I had a good tramp around Victoria and the nearby harbour.

More to follow.

[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here to view more Photos from along the way

“GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Chasing my dad Part 14

[“I do not know the fate of the Silver Walnut but I do know for certain she was not sunk or in the words of my dad, “She did not go to Davy Jones’ locker.” And whenever I attend a naval reunion, talk usually turns to ‘those lucky guys’ who sailed aboard the Walnut and who called her home for three months.” Excerpt from Doug Harrison’s Naval memoirs, Chasing my dad Part 13]

Day 6 of my trip west to Vancouver Island

I have three pages of scribbled notes detailing some of the events of my sixth day away from home. When I wrote them I am not sure, though at supper time feels most likely, because after 11 lines of writing I include a reminder to “Email Michael, from Bard and Banker re Virago”, and I know I had supper at The Bard and Banker restaurant. (Photos confirm it, and I recently placed Michael’s business card atop my messy desk, or somewhere within reach.)

I have 157 photographs, as well, to help me retrace my own footsteps for what turned out to be a very, very busy and rewarding day. As I scanned the photos a few feelings of regret and surprise came to mind; I missed a couple of shots, so I’ll have to go back. I felt feelings of satisfaction too, because I’d jotted a few significant thoughts between bites of my supper and captured special shots in the midst of my busy day.

In my notes I recorded the following:

“Old buildings, a deep long dock (Lock?) for building and repair, a brig ‘no one can get in, or out’, an old stone barracks w metal hooks for hammocks embedded in the walls; stellar views”

["The Rigging Loft; enter, turn right to a fine workbench"]

Though I didn’t photograph the ‘old stone barracks’, I’m sure it is one historic building my dad would have recalled had he been there. He likely spent a night there, at Naden, as the base was known in the 1940s, before returning to HMCS Star in Hamilton for discharge on September 5, 1945, one day before his 25th birthday.

["The Rigging Loft's handiwork hangs everywhere"]

I’m very happy, however, I took a picture of a cluttered workbench just inside the front door of the Rigging Loft at Esquimalt. 

["This sturdy hawser reminded me of a story"]

It reminds me of the wonderful smells of the place. (When I told Terry Shafer, the boss and former journalist and a man my own age, that there would be some people who would want to work for him just to enjoy the smells of the place, he nodded knowingly.) The photo also focuses upon a thick white hawser (twined rope) and reminds me of a memorable story my dad told in his Naval memoirs. 

He wrote:

On November 11, 1942 the Derwentdale dropped anchor off Arzew in North Africa and different ships were distributed at different intervals along the vast coast. My LCM had the leading officer aboard, another seaman besides me, along with a stoker and Coxswain. At around midnight over the sides went the LCMs, ours with a bulldozer and heavy mesh wire, and about 500 feet from shore we ran aground. When morning came we were still there, as big as life and all alone, while everyone else was working like bees.

There was little or no resistance, only snipers, and I kept behind the bulldozer blade when they opened up at us. We were towed off eventually and landed in another spot, and once the bulldozer was unloaded the shuttle service began. For ‘ship to shore’ service we were loaded with five gallon jerry cans of gasoline. I worked 92 hours straight and I ate nothing except for some grapefruit juice I stole.

Our Coxswain was L/S Jack Dean of Toronto and our officer was Lt. McDonald RNR. After the 92 hours my officer said, “Well done. An excellent job, Harrison. Go to Reina Del Pacifico and rest.” But first the Americans brought in a half track (they found out snipers were in a train station) and shelled the building to the ground level. No more snipers. I then had to climb hand over hand up a large hawser (braided rope) to reach the hand rail of Reina Del Pacifico and here my weakness showed itself. I got to the hand rail completely exhausted and couldn’t let one hand go to grab the rail or I would have fallen forty feet into an LCM bobbing below. I managed to nod my head at a cook in a Petty Officer’s uniform and he hauled me in. My throat was so dry I only managed to say, “Thanks, you saved my life.” (page 25, “DAD, WELL DONE”, Naval memoirs of Doug Harrison, compiled by G. Harrison)

["An employee's boot was bronzed after he retired"] 

I can only imagine how my father would have felt after stepping through the sturdy front door of the Rigging Loft, taking his first deep breath of the rich aromas associated with thick twisted Navy ropes, then spying the thick hawser upon Mr. Shafer’s workbench. Would he have felt grateful? Grateful he’d once had the strength to climb one like it, grateful someone appeared on deck to help him off the rope, and grateful for his time on Vancouver Island in 1944 - 45 (“It was like heaven,” he wrote elsewhere in his memoirs).

["More climbing apparatus. What do you prefer?"]

I felt grateful on the day. When I asked if that was a hawser on his workbench Mr. Shafer said it was, so I didn’t feel like a complete goof. I felt glad to have spotted it and that it connected me - with the strongest of cords - to my father. I felt at home inside the workshop and happy to stick my toe into prohibited territory on a day when the Minister of National Defence was busy shopping for F-35s, so, no Navy brig for me.

["I was in and out in ten seconds flat! But I can't tell

you what I saw. M-I-L-I-T-A-R-Y S-E-C-R-E-T-S]

And the day only seemed to get better.

More to follow. (I told you it was a busy day!)

[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here to read “GO WEST, YOUNG MAN”: Chasing my dad Part 13