The duty crews who did not want to live aboard the “Cap” spent the nights in the Gooseberry, one duty boat would ply between us and the “Cap” to pick up our orders. One very welcome appearance to the anchorage, in the first week I believe, were the various “Barges”, the London Barges that had been taken over and converted, Dick often wondered if they were the ones that he had worked on, before joining up. Some came over under their own power, and some were towed, these were the utility workhorses. The LBK’s, LBO’s, LBW’s and LBV’s all did sterling work with very little recognition. Being flat bottomed and only designed for river work, they were not seaworthy, it took hardly any sea running at all for them to pitch and roll, very uncomfortable, added to which they being unable to move very fast, were very vulnerable.
Every day we visited one or other of the barges, to the LBO to top up our fuel tanks. Fresh water from the LBW was a rare treat, on board the “Cap” we had to wash in salt water, to conserve the fresh. Even using the special salt water soap, it was impossible to get a decent lather, and you always felt sticky after a shower. The fresh water was treated so the tea tasted of Chlorine. The LBK was the main barge we made for, first thing in the morning the minor craft were queuing up to go alongside, plenty of hot tea, rashers and fried eggs, at all times of the day there was always a meal available, the cooks aboard these barges each deserved a medal. There was no room aboard the LBK to have the meal. You let the Cook PO know how many meals you wanted, a few minutes later the Hay boxes and Thermos flasks would be waiting for you, much better than trying to cope in the craft with Compo rations. It was one such transfer that nearly led to tragedy for myself, we were loading up our evening meal, when the shelling started, unfortunately I was reaching for a hay box with one foot on the barge, the other was still on the gunwales of my boat, a shell landed near us, the backwash moved the two vessels, and I fell into the “Oggin” between them, and the haybox caught me on the head. One of the cooks jumped in by the side of me and held me above water, luckily the two vessels went apart, otherwise we would both have been crushed, the lads soon organised our rescue, we were taken down to the cooking ranges to dry out, plus a good tot.
On another occasion we had orders to go out to the HMS Nelson, a 16″ gun Battleship which had just come in to join the other bombarding ships. We had been detailed to collect a party of Gunnery Observation Officers and their communication team, to take into the beach. We tied up by the side of her accommodation steps and I went aboard to report to the Quartermaster. One of the ratings who had my name asked me if I knew any Framptons from Godalming, I said “yes, I came from Godalming”, he dashed off and was soon back with Ken Smith who I had gone to school with, he was a Baker aboard the “Nelson” and asked me what the rations were like aboard the landing craft. I told him that they were OK but we missed bread, as we had to have hard biscuits, he disappeared and two of them came back with sacks, which we took aboard just as the Officers party appeared, on the way in to the beach. We investigated the sacks, to our delight, fresh bread rolls, tins of butter and jam. As soon as we got back into the Gooseberry we had the tea on, we shared with the rest of the lads a meal we had not tasted for some weeks, even the smell was worth a king’s ransom. The next morning we picked up a FOO and his party from the beach and took them out to the “Nelson”, just as we pulled away they fired the big guns, over our heads, I have never heard such an explosion at such a close distance, it was hours before our hearing returned to normal, the shell was going away from us, and quite amazing, not only could you see the projectile but also the shock waves generated as it passed through the air. When the big ships fired after darkness, it really was quite spectacular.
Len Ewington’s memories of June show what the typical days were like:
“As I recall two craft were assigned daily to be duty boats to HMS Warspite and HMS Ajax, one particular day when we were with “Ajax” I had occasion to go aboard, we tied up at the gangway and climbed up to the Quarter deck, “Permission to come aboard Sir” I requested of the Duty Officer “Duty Landing craft assigned to Ajax” to which he replied “Carry on Royal”. We then made a beeline for the Galley, a kindly CPO Cook took pity on us, we were soon tucking in to freshly baked bread, butter and jam. Pure Luxury!!! We managed to smuggle some back on board just as we were warned to cast off, as they were about to open fire. I took the craft to our stand by position, just in time, as the guns were traversing for a broadside, in fact I had started to bite into my fourth or was it fifth jam sandwich, when she fired, the blast blew the bread from my hand, luckily I was holding on to the wheel otherwise I might have followed it, I hurriedly put a great distance between us before she fired again”.
We all had this obsession with fresh bread, I wonder what a modern day Psychiatrist would make of it. I expect he would put it down to childhood repression or something!!!
On June the 19th we had our first real storm, it scattered all of the landing craft, we had hardly any control over them, most of us managed to get into the lee of the Gooseberry, but some of them were thrown up on the beach, the lads were lucky to get away from them before they were smashed, our LCV(p)’s were made of inch thick marine multi-ply wood and stood no chance. The lads on the beach moved off inland and were bedded down in the local school. That storm lasted four days, afterwards we were all busy salvaging what we could.
Later in the month on the 24th the “Derrycunihy”, a Liberty ship carrying the 43rd Reconnaissance Regiment, the Gloucesters and their vehicles, unfortunately hit a mine that had drifted into the anchorage – it must have come adrift in the storm – to add to the tragedy, the Destroyer HMS Swift going to her rescue hit another mine, all of the craft in the area rushed in to give assistance, and rescue as many as possible. The mine had broken the back of the “Swift”, she sank immediately, 300 of the Gloucesters were killed and another 150 were wounded out of a total of Six Hundred and Thirty. For some hours following the incident, the minesweepers were busy in the approach channels.
The messes and the sick bay aboard the “Cap” were full of survivors. As they were made fit to travel they were transferred to LCT’s that were returning to the UK. During one of these transfers, they started shelling the anchorage, one of the casualties had just been hoisted in a sling prior to lowering on to the deck of the LCT, a shell fell close by and the Lascar operating the winch took fright and went below for shelter, leaving the poor man swinging in mid-air. The Bosun and a Petty Officer managed to get him lowered. That same afternoon there was another period of shelling, this time the “Cap” had two direct hits, starting a fire on the after deck, killing a Captain Thomas and a Marine of 602 Flotilla. Another Officer Sub/Lt Findlay who was wounded, died later aboard a Hospital ship.
On the 26th June, Phil Crampton, Ron Dunham and Jimmy Galt in Craft 1117 were making their way in to the Gooseberry when they were hit by a shell exploding on the bows, blowing off the ramp. All three lads were injured by shrapnel, they managed to beach the craft and get first aid from the Beachmasters Party, who then arranged their move out to the “Cap” and into the sick-bay where they were operated on by a Naval Surgeon who removed several lumps of steel from them. They were all later transferred to a Hospital ship for further treatment, and return to UK. In the following weeks we suffered several more such cases, some minor and quite a few serious.
Len Ewington:
“One day we had engine trouble, Sammy Sutton my Stoker said he would have to scrounge some spares from somewhere, we went into the beach and received permission from the Beachmaster to tie up and come ashore, I left one of the crew with the craft, Sammy and I went for a walk, he to find a stores and I went to have a look round. I passed an 88mm gun emplacement by the road, the aperture had been blasted wide open, someone told me it had received a direct hit from a salvo from the “Warspite”. Sammy caught me up and said that there was a REME Dump about a mile inland. We stopped an Army lorry to get a lift, the driver agreed, “get in the back, you’ll have company” we went round to the rear and looked in, it was full of bodies, some sick joke!! We told the driver what he could do with his lorry and himself, he went off chuckling, I guess that was his way of dealing with his gruesome task. I walked back to the beach, on the way I inspected a cottage that must have been the centre of some fierce fighting, bullet holes, doors off their hinges and the smell of cordite. I noticed a piece of floorboard that had been disturbed, looking closely I noticed some paper wads, it turned out to be French Francs, about 1500F. I later shared them out amongst the crews”.
The RAF established airstrips inland, they maintained a constant umbrella of air cover over us as well as the progressing Army, we had a grandstand view of the bombing of Caen. General Montgomery had made this city one of his key objectives, to be taken in the first days of the invasion, however his plans were upset by a stubborn German resistance. Eventually he decided to bomb the city, no one could understand his reasoning, it would have saved hundreds of French lives if he had encircled the city and left it to be taken at a later date, so on July 18th, some six weeks later than planned, he called in the Bombers soon after noon, a succession of Lancasters and Halifaxes queued over the Channel, awaiting to bomb the city. The sky above the target area was covered in a black cloud, tragically also for some of the bomber crews, the city had been ringed with Ack Ack guns, we lost several aircraft, two crashing on Juno Beach.
In the middle of June the first of the “Mulberry” Harbours arrived, “Phoenix” units were sunk off Gold Beach (Arromanches), another arrived off Omaha Beach. The various components were soon in position, and larger ships were making use of the deep water facilities, and could now be off loaded straight on to the jetties, instead of over the beaches. According to Historians writing of the campaign later, a row had broken out between Admiral Ramsey (Commander of the Invasion Naval Force) and General Montgomery, about the losses incurred from the Le Havre guns. On being told by Montgomery that dealing with Le Havre was not in his immediate Battle Plan, Admiral Ramsey replied “in that case, I will shut down Sword Beach”. On the 29th July all unloading ceased and all the minor craft with the “Cap Tourane” moved to Gold Beach at Arromanches. A Guard fleet of Frigates and LCT’s remained at Sword to protect the Eastern Flank.
The Mulberry had been completed by the time we arrived, we were organised into Trots tied up to an Ack Ack Phoenix. Apart from providing the occasional duty craft, we more or less fended for ourselves in between working for the Naval Beach Party and the RASC who were responsible for all stores movements. Horace Elliot was billeted ashore with his crew, helping out in the RM Quartermasters Stores, he was also roped in to attend a Burial Parade for some soldiers, who had blown themselves up with a “Bangalore” Torpedo.
Many of us took this opportunity to have a run ashore, it was now possible to walk to the beach via the roadway from the “Spud” jetties. These had had to be repaired after the storm of the 19th, evidence of this could be seen on the beach, twisted roadway sections and girders were littered everywhere. There were a few MP’s about, but it was no problem to talk our way past them. We cadged a lift into the small town of Arromanches, I had managed to scrounge some Francs, we bought some odds and ends, we were always on the look-out for “Rabbits” to add to our collection of German helmets etc. We got our first taste of Calvados, the Normandy Speciality, a Brandy made from apples, very potent. A couple of the lads boasted of conquests among the local maidens, knowing some of our lusty Lotharios, I would not have put it past them.
Quite a few American LCV(p)’s had come in to the Mulberry, from Omaha Beach, further west. The crews were mostly US Coastguards. We developed quite a nice little trade with them. They had not had a chance to pick up many souvenirs. We swapped for their vastly superior Compo Rations, for some reason our issue Knives were in great demand, I think it was because they had marlin spikes.
It was here in the Mulberry that we had our first taste of the Buzz Bombs. I can remember the first one, several of us were smoking our last cigarette before turning in. We were standing on the stern of the outboard craft, this light appeared in the sky, coming from the East. We could hear the pop-popping engine, suddenly there was silence and the next minute there was an enormous explosion, just the other side of the Phoenix, which shook us so much one lad fell over-board, we kept a very wary eye open after that.
In early August we were given orders to beach all of the craft, they were to be handed over to the Beach Party. We were then ferried out to the “Cap Tourane”, the following day we sailed for Southampton. As we came up the Solent a Buzz went round the ship that the Customs Officers were waiting for us when we landed, there was a steady splash as “Rabbits” went over-board, a hand would appear out of a scuttle, and an object would drop into the water below.
After we disembarked we made our way through the warehouse on the dockside, and formed up in Flotillas, then on to waiting trains. Incidentally there was not a single Customs Officer in sight, I often wonder what lies at the bottom of the Solent.
So our first involvement with Europe came to an end, the train took us back round to Hayling Island, there we had our first decent bath and a pint of beer, we were soon on the move again, this time down to Stonehouse Barracks, Plymouth.
Extract is Chapter 7 of Peter Frampton’s book “803 History of a Landing Craft Flotilla”.
© Peter Frampton 2001