Occupation currency, black market sugar and lost teeth
There was a forces occupation currency and it was virtually useless and not being conversant with it cost us dearly. We flogged most of our surplus clothing plus extras – one had to be aware that any clothing left out would be pinched, even a pair of socks. Even washing clothes could result in some light-fingered matelot relieving you of your smalls.
The end result of this affair was that we flogged our gear and had a kitbag full of occupation currency that could be exchanged into pound sterling back on Malta. Only we arrived back in Malta later to find devaluation had taken place and they would only exchange £5 worth of occupation currency. So we all made a glorious bonfire of the remainder on the dockside – my share of the fire accounted for a half kitbag of valueless paper currency – a lot of Lira went up in smoke. I learnt a lot about such ventures for future reference. However, we still had to replace the kit that we had flogged, so there was a huge deficit. The only acceptable currency were dollars or sterling, but the Italians never liked to part with their hard currency.
On one occasion we tied up alongside an American Liberty Ship in Ancona that had a cargo of sugar. Being friendly and good allies we gave the Quartermaster a good drink of navy rum and 30 mins later he passed out. The sugar is a very good commodity for the black market that would bring in souvenirs or hard currency and we all made a killing.
The only trouble was the sacks of sugar weighed in at around 10 to 12 stone and took some manhandling from the hold to our ship. This difficulty prevented us from relieving more sacks. The next problem was stowing it in a safe place, the mess it makes and breaking it down into salable quantities. Halfway through we found a buyer for the last three sacks as we had orders to ditch it as it was causing such a storage problem. I always had a question regarding where all the other Liberty Ship crew were whilst we relieved them of the sugar. One of the trades I made on the sugar was bartering for an Italian 9mm Beretta pistol. It was illegal to have this contraband on-board ship but a number of fellow matelots had similar souvenirs.
Another dodge pulled on me was I had a Kodak camera (it had belonged to my father) and I had bought some film for it in Bari, only to find on having it developed it contained no photographic material. It had been packed out nice and tidy (Italian style…) with the red outside cover present making it look very genuine. I had only brought one roll of film with me in ’43 and was never able to obtain any more.
When we called into Taranto we came across an Italian selling films and I bought two and opened one up to sample it and he was on the same touch. I grabbed him by the throat; going through his pockets for the money I had given him. There were three of us and this bloke started to cry, gushing tears and the local Italians thought we must have been robbing him because all hell broke loose. A fight erupted with a load of Italians and I was hit in the mouth with a bottle, removing four of my front teeth. That put me down and some Red Cap MPs, who were stationed outside the local railway station in Taranto, saved us. Damned lucky!
The only bonus was what I got from the Italians pockets and the fact we put through quite a few panes of glass in the station façade. It had suffered from bombing previously, so we finished it off, something I’m none too proud of, but we were mad as hell about what had happened. So, I say sorry to the five gear men – one forward and four reverse…
The end result of this affair was that we flogged our gear and had a kitbag full of occupation currency that could be exchanged into pound sterling back on Malta. Only we arrived back in Malta later to find devaluation had taken place and they would only exchange £5 worth of occupation currency. So we all made a glorious bonfire of the remainder on the dockside – my share of the fire accounted for a half kitbag of valueless paper currency – a lot of Lira went up in smoke. I learnt a lot about such ventures for future reference. However, we still had to replace the kit that we had flogged, so there was a huge deficit. The only acceptable currency were dollars or sterling, but the Italians never liked to part with their hard currency.
On one occasion we tied up alongside an American Liberty Ship in Ancona that had a cargo of sugar. Being friendly and good allies we gave the Quartermaster a good drink of navy rum and 30 mins later he passed out. The sugar is a very good commodity for the black market that would bring in souvenirs or hard currency and we all made a killing.
The only trouble was the sacks of sugar weighed in at around 10 to 12 stone and took some manhandling from the hold to our ship. This difficulty prevented us from relieving more sacks. The next problem was stowing it in a safe place, the mess it makes and breaking it down into salable quantities. Halfway through we found a buyer for the last three sacks as we had orders to ditch it as it was causing such a storage problem. I always had a question regarding where all the other Liberty Ship crew were whilst we relieved them of the sugar. One of the trades I made on the sugar was bartering for an Italian 9mm Beretta pistol. It was illegal to have this contraband on-board ship but a number of fellow matelots had similar souvenirs.
Another dodge pulled on me was I had a Kodak camera (it had belonged to my father) and I had bought some film for it in Bari, only to find on having it developed it contained no photographic material. It had been packed out nice and tidy (Italian style…) with the red outside cover present making it look very genuine. I had only brought one roll of film with me in ’43 and was never able to obtain any more.
When we called into Taranto we came across an Italian selling films and I bought two and opened one up to sample it and he was on the same touch. I grabbed him by the throat; going through his pockets for the money I had given him. There were three of us and this bloke started to cry, gushing tears and the local Italians thought we must have been robbing him because all hell broke loose. A fight erupted with a load of Italians and I was hit in the mouth with a bottle, removing four of my front teeth. That put me down and some Red Cap MPs, who were stationed outside the local railway station in Taranto, saved us. Damned lucky!
The only bonus was what I got from the Italians pockets and the fact we put through quite a few panes of glass in the station façade. It had suffered from bombing previously, so we finished it off, something I’m none too proud of, but we were mad as hell about what had happened. So, I say sorry to the five gear men – one forward and four reverse…