Spotlight - "We Remember" - The Stories of Arthur Stonehouse, Alan Haines, John Coode, William Patterson and Norman Nunn. Plus a poem by James Hinton.
"Where Was I When The Balloon Went Up?"
'D'Day By Arthur Stonehouse.
Recent photo of Arthur
First let me explain what our ships were. Our ships were infantry landing craft built in the United States and they were commissioned in Quincy, Massachussetts under lease-lend. These
ships were sea-going and could accomodate 200 troops. They had two ramps, one port and one starboard which we put down towards the beach on landing. In all, 36 ships sailed from Norfolk, Virginia in one line and controlled by Commander Villias, who later took the replica
"Mayflower" to New England in the 1970's.
We sailed for Gibraltar and took part in the Anzio and Salerno landings in 1943 before returning to the UK for refit and getting ready for the 'D' Day invasion. By this time our crews and ships were seasoned invaders. A few days before the 6th June, we moved
up the Thames to Sheerness and embarked the troops, we were to land somewhere in France. We steamed to the Thames estuary and turned due west up the channel, then joined a convoy of freighters. We were a fleet of twelve ships, carrying 2400 troops between us.
On the morning of 6th June 1944 I was sitting in the skipper's chair on the bridge, listening to the 8am news. The newscaster stated that the invasion had started early that morning and we had made a footing ashore. We steamed on in convoy enjoying the morning sun.
Photo - Arthur, in service.
Suddenly all hell let loose. The German long range guns opened up just as we were rounding Folkstone Head. Shells started to drop around us when, on our port beam, they hit a liberty ship right in front of the wheelhouse. The ship turned into Folkstone out of control but we steamed on west along the Channel at action stations. Later in the day we turned towards France
and arrived at Sword Beach, Arramanche at about 4pm. The beaches had been taken by then and the following fighting was taking place further inland. We could hear it going on but could not see it.
We started to make our landing on the beach to disembark our troops. I took charge of the 'after kedge' anchor (the idea is to drop the kedge off shore so we could pull ourselves off when the job was finished). I was in contact with the skipper, Lt Dias, through the interecom and informed him as each reel of steel hawser was played out. When it got to the last one, we were still yards from the beach.
I informed the skipper we were on the last reel when suddenly there was a great snap. The hawser had gone and our ship went ploughing up the beach to a full stop. All the troops got off but the excitement was not over. On looking around we discovered a large sea mine that had been washed
up with us, it was located a couple of yards away from our port side. The Skipper evacuated the crew and we waited for the army to send a bull dozer down to push us off the beach. We went and collected some of the paratroopers who had made the early morning drop. Our job was to take then back to Newhaven, which we did.
That was our day on the 6th June 1944
D. Day, My Birthday!
By Alan Haines
Recent photo of Alan
I was a coxswain in the navy. We were ferrying landing craft around the country to the South of England. We did not know at the time we were preparing for D Day.
On one occasion we encountered King George V1 and Queen Elizabeth in the Liverpool docks and they stopped to have a chat. On another occasion we were sailing off the south coast and heard a chug chug over head. It turned out to be a doodle bug, the very first ever V1. We heard later that it had landed in Chiswick, leaving a very nasty hole.
On night we were heading into the inland waters of Ichemor to berth. We had a pre-arranged signal which was the letter D on the morse lamp (_..). The
shore batteries opened up with tracer bullets, so we high-tailed it out of range. We tried D again and were greeted with, "sorry, come on in". Certain words were uttered!
On D Day, my birthday, we sailed in the landing craft for Sword Beach, France. We were greeted by big ships firing over our heads towards the shore, paratroopers coming down by the hundreds and the big German guns firing at us from the shore.
Due to my skill as coxswain, we landed smoothly on the beach to off load troops. We camped out on the beach for one and a half days before taking back equipement etc, our job was done.
Sword Beach, France.
May 8th 1945, I was on one of two L.C.Ts along with a couple of merchant ships escorted by a corvette chugging up the Irish Sea. It was a beautiful day, not only as regards the weather but also beacause we'd heard the Allies were in Berlin and Winston Churchill
was going to broadcast to the nation at 7pm that eveing. "The war in Europe is over". Whoops of joy, cheers, laughter. The skipper opened up the drinks cupboard in the wardroom and gave everyone something to celebrate with. A few minutes later three of us were on the port catwalk with drinks in our hands.
We were looking out towards Dublin which gleamed in the warm evening sun light. Suddenly one of the fellows said "cor' look at that." and there, coming straight towards us was a torpedo. We could see it clearly all silvery grey with a few flashes of red on the side. It was too late to take any action. We watched it go right under our bows. A normal ship with a proper keel would have been hit. Our corvette went
screaming round dropping depth-charges but got no result. What was it? A U-boat commander who, being submerged, hadn't heard the news or thought he'd have one last fling.
We eventually went back to Roseneath in Scotland to be demobilised. A voice came over the tannoy one evening asking for volunteers to go and finish off the Japs and I decided to go. After all I'd joined the NAvy to see the world.
When we reached Malta they dropped the bomb on Hiroshimo.
My flotilla of tank landing craft was ordered home but I was ordered to go down the Suez Canal to the Great Bitter Lakes where my craft was turned into a floating theatre. I got the job because I'd had a tenuous connection with show business. Big liners were coming through with repatriated prisoners of war and others and Ensa provided the entertainment.
After eighteen glorious months we sailed home through the Mediteranean enduring four days and four nights of waves sixty feet high. We were piped into Valetta harbour and treated as heroes.
"Dodging bullets and Dugouts" by John Coode
Early photo of John
As the 11th November approaches my thoughts inevitably go back over 60 years to 1st April 1943 when I was a shy young boy of 17. I volunteered for the army.
Following basic training in Buckford, Blackburn and Colchester I was sent south in June 1944 to be on 24hr stand by.
It was all very exciting for a young boy as rumours were rife of the impending invasion fleet heading for France. We were waiting on full alert for a calm sea to go aboard our landing boats. In fact we never got a calm sea and had to set sail in bad conditions.
The sea was terribly rough and as we were in flat bottom boats, everyone was sea sick. En route I clearly remember running into another landing barge and having a narrow escape.
Eventually we arrived on the day after D Day (D+1) at Ouistreham, Normandy. By this time it was quiet and we were able to land with out too much difficulty. We had time to take our clothes off to dry them before moving on inland.
Photo - John after joining the Scottish Borders
In July 1944 I transferred to the King's Own Scottish Borderers, 1st Battallion. I soon got caught up in the heavy bombing of Caen and the fighting that followed. This was the point when I realised as I was dodging shells and bullets and seeing my friends being killed or wounded that war was not a game but a very frightening experience. I soon changed from a boy to a man.
Towards the middle of July that year I was walking along a railway line in Normandy with my unit when my Section Leader and one of my best freinds was shot through the head by a sniper and we all hit the ground quickly.
The next moment I was aware of a sudden exposion all around me. At first I did not realise what was happening but my guardian angel was definately looking after me that day. I was carrying a hand grenade on one side and a spare bren-gun magazine on the other and fortunately for me the German bullets hit my spare amunition and all the bullets exploded.
I suffered quite severe wounds to my legs and arm, I was able to struggle, bleeding profusely, into a neighbouring field when I found some of my colleagues sheltering. They were sure I had been killed by the sniper. I said my prayers that night.
I was taken to a First Aid Field Unit and then flown home to a hospital in England where I spent several weeks recuperating. Eventually I was sent over to Northern Ireland for training. In Nov 1944 I rejoined my battalion who were now in Holland.
It was a bitter winter and we were doing alot of patrol work and living in dug outs. The snow was thick on the ground and I clearly remember one particular incident that occurred one dark and dirty night.
I was at the back of a small patrol on the banks of the river Maas. The Germans were also regularly patrolling the same area. Suddenly the ground opened up beneath me and I fell into a dugout which was covered by the snow. By the time I managed to activate myself, the patrol had disappeared out of sight, not realising they had left me behind.
I was stranded all alone in the middle of 'no man's land', not knowing where the enemy was lurking. It was without doubt the most terrifying moment of my entire war service. Fortunately I managed to find a farm shed, but my worry then was whether it concealed friend or foe. Luckily for me it was the former, all was well.
Later on when we were in Germany, my Company Commander tried to throw a grenade through a farm house window. Unfortunately his aim was not very good and he missed hitting the wall and I was hit by alot of the shrapnel. To this day, apart from a German bullet in my leg, my chest is covered with shrapnel scars.
Recent photo of John
After being wounded I was laid on a bren-gun carrier in the middle of the battle field and left for what seemed ages. I was lying there with German shells flying over me one way and British shells the other. Transport to a field hospital eventually arrived and I was taken to a Belgian hospital.
In September 1945 I went by boat to the Middle East and served partly in Egypt and partly in Palestine.
When I look back on my life I am absolutely certain that God saved me from death on at least three occasions as he had more important things for me still to do on earth.
The Last Big Naval Battle - William Patterson.
William Patterson, the late father of Bill Patterson who owns and runs Agincourt and Audrey's (October's spotlight), told this story in 1977, the news paper cutting can be found on the wall of the shop.
William was the Chief Petty Officer on H.M.S Belfast which fired the first shots in the 'Battle of the North Cape' on Boxing Day 1943.
In 1943 the Belfast was sent for duty between Iceland and Murmansk, the North Russian Port. They accompanied and protected the convoys in that area.
On this occasion the Belfast was accompanied by the two cruisers, Norfolk and Sheffield. The Belfast had picked up Scharnhorst a German Battleship at 08:40 and 35,000 yards (32,000 m) using her Type 273 radar.
The Scharnhorst had destroyed many of our ships and an aircraft carrier earlier in the war.
The Belfast opened fire and lit the Scharnhorst up to give directional power to pinpoint the target. Scharnhorst replied with alsorts of material but our ships did not suffer any major damage and the Balfast remained unscathed.
The Scharnhorst sank on 26th December, out of 2000 crew only 36 men survived.
The Belfast is moored near Tower Bridge on the Thames in London.
Mr William Patterson died on 12 January 1975 aged 65.
From Orkney to Palestine by Norman Nunn.
In November 1942 Norman was called up to serve in the army.
He trained in the Orkney's, Shetland Islands, Scapper Flow and Loch Shin as a machine gunner.
He moved to Cumberland prior to D Day and then to the South Coast of England. His regiment the 43rd Wessex Infantry Division was a fully trained tip top outfit.
They were waiting for the boats to take them over to France and in terrible weather they finally reached Sword Beach.
It was 6 days after D Day and the beaches by then were quiet. They moved on inland to Hill 112 in Normandy.
The Battle for Hill 112 was viewed as critical to both the British attackers and German defenders.
As a result Hill 112 has often been called the 'Verdun of Normandy'.
It was here that the British breakout came to a halt, following the crossing of the Odon,
and the fighting around the high ground of the infamous Hill absorbed several British formations during the
summer of 1944.
During two days fighting alone, 10th-11th July 1944, the 43rd (Wessex) Division suffered more than 2,000 casualties,
and the slopes of the Hill were ablaze with the wrecks of British tanks (largely Churchills) knocked out by the SS Panzer units in occupation of the high ground. Hill 112 was not finally cleared until 3rd August, during the final phase of the breakout from Normandy.
By that time the crest of the hill had been turned into a vast crater-zone of shell holes, wrecked vehicles and the bodies of those who had fought and died here.
Photo - The central square in the town of Falaise
Norman then moved on to the Falaise Gap, he saw the worst carnage ever. The battle of the Falaise Gap (also known as the Falaise Pocket and Chambois Pocket) was the area between the four cities of Trun, Argentan, Vimoutiers and Chambois near Falaise, France, in which the remnants of the German Wehrmacht (Army) were trapped and effectively destroyed as a fighting force.
This battle marked the end of the Battle of Normandy, which started on June 6, 1944, and ended on August 22, 1944. Although perhaps 100,000 German troops succeeded in escaping the allies due to the delay in closing the gap, they left behind 150,000 prisoners and wounded, over 10,000 dead, and the road practically impassable due to destroyed vehicles and bodies.
Norman and the 43rd carried on to Argentan on the river Orne where they laid out white tape for the paras' to see their way through at night and a safe crossing.
They then supported the paratroopers in Rushall Forest.
Norman was injured by a mortar known as a 'moaning mini' but did not return home, he was looked after by a stretcher bearer until fit to fight again.
The 43rd were involved in the 'Battle of the Bulge' (officially named the Battle of the Ardennes) and then went on to a small Dutch town of Brunssum. They slept in farm sheds and barns and went into action in Nethahide woods.
On one occasion Norman and his three mates were summoned from their barn to Ma Adams house in the village. There they waited as Ma Adams took each one individually into a small room. In the room was a statue of the Virgin Mary. They were told to kneel before the statue as Ma Adams blessed them.
The following day they went into battle with 266 other troops into the forest. Only 69 men came back including Norman and his three mates. Norman says "call it what you like, but if you have faith it must mean something".
By the begining of September 1945 Norman arrived in Palestine and was officially demobbed on class B release in 1946 - AND NO LEAVE!. (Norman requested capitals)
British Sailors' Lament by James R.B.Hinton - H.M.S Scourge
My grave is on the bed of every ocean;
My bones are in the depths of every sea;
My country, though you found all of my devotion,
Yet I lost all I had, and loved, for liberty.
I sailed 'neath ensigns, proud, of white and red and blue;
Young Jack, old salt, bright eyed, a jolly British tar;
Prepared to give my best, perchance to die, it's true;
Without much thought of it, or how, I'd crossed the *bar.
Sloop, battleship or 'sweeper, freighter laiden low;
Cruiser or destroyer, in convoy or in fleet;
Corvette, frigate, carrier, on look out for the foe;
There at 'Action Stations', the enemy to meet.
The u-Boat lurking, close abeam, like wolf at bay;
The demon Stuka hiding just above the cloud;
The mine, the charge that threatened my onward way;
Each with the power to turn the ship into shroud.
Did depth charge fall uopn that friendly sub' below;
Torpedoes, bombs and mines hit merchantmen as well;
Did my fine warship sink? no time for me to know;
But heaven surely saw, that death this way was hell.
The cries were overwhelemed by the gales and mighty seas;
My sobs and sighs left in the doldrums and the gloom;
My Britain you could never know my agonies;
Or dying prayers, my fears for cherished ones at home.
The winds, they are the moans of every sailor;
Who gave his precious life at sea, in times of war;
The rains, they are the tears of every failure;
To reach a port of home, and loving kin once more.
Unlike the soldier on the battlefield who fell;
Or airman buried by the scene of his last fight:
There stands no cross, my name and resting place to tell;
The all engulfing sea has now consumed me quite.
When at your cenotaph on cold November morns;
You name, awhile, for those who died to keep you free;
Think of the world's wide ocean beds where no light dawns;
And then, my friend, remember me, REMEMBER ME.
*This means that you have died