HMS Bulolo VIPs and a visit to a hospital ship
One of our main tasks was taking VIPs from HMS Bulolo to HMS Rodney, a battlewagon, in Sword Area. What a carry-on, lots of high-ranking officers from the army, navy and air force, as well as a number of civilians at one time.
Of course most of them had mouths full of marbles and the most senior officers thought they were automatically righted to be on the bridge, although at times I considered their presence to be a danger to the ship. They thought the signalman, being a rating, could be pushed aside which made it difficult to do my job, so I built a platform at the base of the mast that gave a commanding view (copied from one on an MTB at Haslar). Of course the first dickhead who took up possession of it had to be asked to quit which he did not care for.
The beauty of the platform was the Skipper always knew where the sig. was amongst these charlies, who could be half pissed on the return journeys and who were often upset when we were delayed by some special task from picking them up on time.
We had twin Vickers guns on each side of the bridge and they loved to play soldiers with them. No firing was allowed but just twirling them in an arc was thought to be great fun. These had fitted, painted, tarpaulins over them (that you could bet would be off by the time we had gone two miles) and were very well greased, so it was worth removing the grub screws from the stops and let them completely revolve with the movement of the ship which caused a bit of mayhem, and cleared the bridge on occasions.
Going alongside Rodney was quite a thing to see how the other half lived. There was a special VIP gangway just forward of midship with a Lt RN dressed like a dummy in gaiters and no. 1s¹ but he outranked my Skipper and what a bastard he turned out to be. We were at the base of the VIP gangway waiting for our Skipper who had slipped on board to see his brother.
This twat in gaiters shouted in a nasty voice, “Move that ship, you’re blocking the gangway!”
“I’m waiting for my Skipper who is on board Rodney”, I replied.
“Sir!” he said.
I replied, “I’m waiting for my Skipper who is on board Sir Rodney”.
“No! Sir comes last! Inform your 1st Lt. to move the ship”, he said.
“There are two gangways and nobody’s at that one”, I retorted.
“Sir!” came his reply again. (All the sailors on Rodney were enjoying our banter by now.)
“Sir”, I said (being VIPs there was one gangway for entering the Rodney and a different one for leaving. I was aware of this having been a few times. He’s not the only one who could play silly buggers!).
Upset now he was shouting and getting nowhere fast, the gaitored pillock boomed, “Get that ship moved NOW!”
I rang the bridge telegraph to “Stand By”² and he thought I was going to move the boat without an officer present on the bridge and he went absolutely berserk.
The reason I used the telegraph to ring up “Stand By” was to utilise one of our set-ups that we used in an emergency. The 1st Lt was working on the smoke apparatus and he would hear the engines start plus the burble of the exhausts and was on the bridge in a couple of minutes.
“Trouble?” said the 1st Lt.
I nodded up top. Jimmy and the dummy had a few brief words and we moved the ship. The dummy knobbled the Skipper before he came back onboard about my conduct regarding respect for an officer, refusing an instruction, gangway clearance etc, etc, etc. So the Skipper gave me a warning about upsetting officers in the “other” navy….
Another task for Bulolo was taking her dead and wounded to HMS Scylla³, a light cruiser. One day⁴ in the forenoon we were approaching Bulolo about 250 yards, when a German bomber came in from the landside and dropped a bomb just forward of her bridge, and hit No. 2 Conference Room where a meeting had just broken up. A British or Yankee fighter followed the bomber which flew into most of the flak aimed at the bomber and was damaged and crash-landed.
Going alongside Bulolo we took off one dead Major and several wounded. There was considerable chaos on board and they did not seem any urgency in getting these people away. It took about three hours before we got moving with lots of blood from the wounded on the foredeck – the only place with the space for stretchers. It took about ten hours to quench the fire in the No. 2 Conference Room that luckily had just been evacuated before the bomb struck.
The whole episode was quite a surprise. I can’t remember any warning and no action stations were pending at the time.
Of course most of them had mouths full of marbles and the most senior officers thought they were automatically righted to be on the bridge, although at times I considered their presence to be a danger to the ship. They thought the signalman, being a rating, could be pushed aside which made it difficult to do my job, so I built a platform at the base of the mast that gave a commanding view (copied from one on an MTB at Haslar). Of course the first dickhead who took up possession of it had to be asked to quit which he did not care for.
The beauty of the platform was the Skipper always knew where the sig. was amongst these charlies, who could be half pissed on the return journeys and who were often upset when we were delayed by some special task from picking them up on time.
We had twin Vickers guns on each side of the bridge and they loved to play soldiers with them. No firing was allowed but just twirling them in an arc was thought to be great fun. These had fitted, painted, tarpaulins over them (that you could bet would be off by the time we had gone two miles) and were very well greased, so it was worth removing the grub screws from the stops and let them completely revolve with the movement of the ship which caused a bit of mayhem, and cleared the bridge on occasions.
Going alongside Rodney was quite a thing to see how the other half lived. There was a special VIP gangway just forward of midship with a Lt RN dressed like a dummy in gaiters and no. 1s¹ but he outranked my Skipper and what a bastard he turned out to be. We were at the base of the VIP gangway waiting for our Skipper who had slipped on board to see his brother.
This twat in gaiters shouted in a nasty voice, “Move that ship, you’re blocking the gangway!”
“I’m waiting for my Skipper who is on board Rodney”, I replied.
“Sir!” he said.
I replied, “I’m waiting for my Skipper who is on board Sir Rodney”.
“No! Sir comes last! Inform your 1st Lt. to move the ship”, he said.
“There are two gangways and nobody’s at that one”, I retorted.
“Sir!” came his reply again. (All the sailors on Rodney were enjoying our banter by now.)
“Sir”, I said (being VIPs there was one gangway for entering the Rodney and a different one for leaving. I was aware of this having been a few times. He’s not the only one who could play silly buggers!).
Upset now he was shouting and getting nowhere fast, the gaitored pillock boomed, “Get that ship moved NOW!”
I rang the bridge telegraph to “Stand By”² and he thought I was going to move the boat without an officer present on the bridge and he went absolutely berserk.
The reason I used the telegraph to ring up “Stand By” was to utilise one of our set-ups that we used in an emergency. The 1st Lt was working on the smoke apparatus and he would hear the engines start plus the burble of the exhausts and was on the bridge in a couple of minutes.
“Trouble?” said the 1st Lt.
I nodded up top. Jimmy and the dummy had a few brief words and we moved the ship. The dummy knobbled the Skipper before he came back onboard about my conduct regarding respect for an officer, refusing an instruction, gangway clearance etc, etc, etc. So the Skipper gave me a warning about upsetting officers in the “other” navy….
Another task for Bulolo was taking her dead and wounded to HMS Scylla³, a light cruiser. One day⁴ in the forenoon we were approaching Bulolo about 250 yards, when a German bomber came in from the landside and dropped a bomb just forward of her bridge, and hit No. 2 Conference Room where a meeting had just broken up. A British or Yankee fighter followed the bomber which flew into most of the flak aimed at the bomber and was damaged and crash-landed.
Going alongside Bulolo we took off one dead Major and several wounded. There was considerable chaos on board and they did not seem any urgency in getting these people away. It took about three hours before we got moving with lots of blood from the wounded on the foredeck – the only place with the space for stretchers. It took about ten hours to quench the fire in the No. 2 Conference Room that luckily had just been evacuated before the bomb struck.
The whole episode was quite a surprise. I can’t remember any warning and no action stations were pending at the time.
¹ Dress uniform usually worn on shore leave.
² The telegraph is the instrument on the bridge that tells the engine room what to do with the engines, for example, full ahead or slow astern.
³ 1942 Dido Class AA Light Cruiser and Flagship of Rear Admiral Sir Phillip Vian, Commander of Force ‘S’ off Sword Beach. She struck a mine off the Normandy coast 23rd June 1944 and was towed back to Britain and scrapped in 1950.
⁴ From research it appears this bombing incident occurred on 7th June 1944.
² The telegraph is the instrument on the bridge that tells the engine room what to do with the engines, for example, full ahead or slow astern.
³ 1942 Dido Class AA Light Cruiser and Flagship of Rear Admiral Sir Phillip Vian, Commander of Force ‘S’ off Sword Beach. She struck a mine off the Normandy coast 23rd June 1944 and was towed back to Britain and scrapped in 1950.
⁴ From research it appears this bombing incident occurred on 7th June 1944.