Doodlebugs, E-boats and lost Yanks
About two weeks into the invasion an interesting thing happened one evening when we laid up outside the anchorage. We ventured out there for a bit of peace and quiet quite often drifting with the engines idling.
We heard a noise and looked up to see what appeared to be a plane on fire and we headed for him and when we closed there appeared to be a huge flame coming out of his tail. We followed for some time but could not get near him and eventually it just dived into the sea with a hell of an explosion. We closed up thinking somebody might need help but all there was an oil patch with nothing very big to pick up. We learned later that this was the start of the V1 rocket campaign on the anchorage¹, which we were to see more of at a later stage off the Isle of Wight.
In July 1944 we were detailed to escort a convoy of four ships from the anchorage to Southampton with another ML. Leaving in the evening about 0030 engines were heard. There was a quarter moon rising low down over the horizon and five German E-boats crossed in front of this moon going at a fair lick, according to the bow wave they were generating. MLs would be a simple task for an E-boat and everybody froze. It was obvious that they had other things in mind by their speed but we were dead lucky, only one merchant ship reported them in the morning together with the rear ML.
We arrived at Haslar Creek after releasing the merchant ships in the Solent and told to rest up as we had been up most of the night. As it was the forenoon, it was most unusual as it is normal procedure to work the forenoon and rest in the afternoon, when a ‘make and mend’ is piped. But a more pleasant surprise awaited us in the form of a working party of Wrens arriving to ammo and victual the ship.
Most of the crew found they were not that tired (funnily enough…) and decided to help the Wrens. The task took all morning, everyone sweating in the early August weather. The aroma of the Wrens body odours was most pleasant, as all our senses had been heightened with our trip to France.
Arrangements were made to have a party with the Wrens in a pub that night. To set this up way the Leading Wren used the phone – even though strict orders forbade using the telephone for personal calls. I duly warned her after she made the call – in a joking fashion.
Everybody was in fine fettle with stacks of back pay and with a prospective night ashore it promised to be good. After midday we spent three hours fuelling and coaling for the galley. At 1600, the time for spark’s WT watch, orders came to proceed out past the Nab Tower² 15 miles and take up defensive position against possible V1 rocket attacks and attempt to shoot them down. Jesus Christ, who’s going to tell the lads? That was the biggest disappointment I ever experienced in the RN, those men were furious after all the time over the other side the RN could be so thoughtless to rub salt into the wound by sending us on such a useless errand – our party with the Wrens was obviously cancelled without returning to Haslar Creek.
The orders for next morning were to form up a convoy of 48 American harbour craft for Cherbourg³; the port had capitulated a week previously (last week of June 1944). These were very small craft manned with two Yanks apiece and they looked like army as most of their gear was khaki or fawn with peaked caps.
Six lines of eight were formed and the leader of each rank had a signal lamp. The majority were as good as us with the lamp, which was a pleasant surprise. They were escorted by three MLs, with our ship in front and two behind to pick up stragglers and strays. From the start old “Chaos” from Normandy would have been in his element, it was hilarious as they seemed intent on passing each other and had to be threatened with comply or return. We went past the Needles in a congealed mass and formed up two miles SW of the Needles lighthouse.
It was very slow progress with about quite a number braking down which the MLs at the rear could not cope with. The other was chasing around like a mother hen and the signals were coming in ten-a-penny. Most of it was situation reports. The sea was like a millpond and by nightfall we had three in tow and the column leaders had one or two likewise. The trouble with towing was we could not criss-cross to bolster their moral and about 2300 a horrible fog came down. For July this was exceptional and with fog sound is distorted in every sense. We could hear them shouting and only ever saw two after it closed in and we had to maintain radio silence throughout the operation because of the threat of German E-boats.
Next morning we were by ourselves with the three in tow. We arrived in Cherbourg with these three very late on the second day, very downcast. A conference was held and searches carried out at around 0500 the following morning. We headed for Jersey after they had worked out the tides and currents as to which way they had gone. None were found and when we encountered Jersey a hail of fire from German 6” guns met us. We undertook all the evasive tactics, very interesting and came out unscathed and returned to Cherbourg where we refuelled and reported back to Haslar.
The harbour at Cherbourg was in a terrible mess; the Germans had carried out a complete demolition job on it. All the cranes were tipped over, fuel tanks burnt out, together with warehouses in heaps of rubble. The only thing that worked it appeared were the starboard and port lights at the entrance to the port. We fuelled outside due to obstructions that had been sunk in the inner harbour.
I never heard what happened to those craft but I’ve often thought of them especially when crossing the Hoggin⁴ in a ferry. They must have called us some names I guess, but I know one can last over five days without food and water (from experience…).
With regard to our V1 defence line on stand by all night, normal watches called to action stations when two turned up. The first appeared about four miles away, and familiar to us as we had seen the fiery tail before in Normandy. The other, one at about four in the morning (change over watch, decent of the Jerries to consider that), flew directly above with little manoeuvring. The large flame (longer than our boat it appeared) out the back of the rocket lit up a great swath of the sea. It appeared to me to be flying at about 200ft but the Skipper said it was more like 500ft, but I’ll always remember everything being brilliantly lit up.
All guns fired except the three-pounder, even our beloved twin Vickers machine guns. It came over our mast and Carpenter fired the starboard Vickers and got one pan⁵ away on each barrel. I fired the port Vickers with no affect. I was watching the V1 and Carpenter and by the time I turned and aimed the gun I was no where near with half a drum, it was moving at a hell of a rate and what a bloody racket it made too.
The Skipper was overjoyed and pleased we missed the V1 as otherwise we would have been part of the channel tunnel if it had gone off. They never included the Defence Medal in my gongs, but it’s in the post, honest guv!
We heard a noise and looked up to see what appeared to be a plane on fire and we headed for him and when we closed there appeared to be a huge flame coming out of his tail. We followed for some time but could not get near him and eventually it just dived into the sea with a hell of an explosion. We closed up thinking somebody might need help but all there was an oil patch with nothing very big to pick up. We learned later that this was the start of the V1 rocket campaign on the anchorage¹, which we were to see more of at a later stage off the Isle of Wight.
In July 1944 we were detailed to escort a convoy of four ships from the anchorage to Southampton with another ML. Leaving in the evening about 0030 engines were heard. There was a quarter moon rising low down over the horizon and five German E-boats crossed in front of this moon going at a fair lick, according to the bow wave they were generating. MLs would be a simple task for an E-boat and everybody froze. It was obvious that they had other things in mind by their speed but we were dead lucky, only one merchant ship reported them in the morning together with the rear ML.
We arrived at Haslar Creek after releasing the merchant ships in the Solent and told to rest up as we had been up most of the night. As it was the forenoon, it was most unusual as it is normal procedure to work the forenoon and rest in the afternoon, when a ‘make and mend’ is piped. But a more pleasant surprise awaited us in the form of a working party of Wrens arriving to ammo and victual the ship.
Most of the crew found they were not that tired (funnily enough…) and decided to help the Wrens. The task took all morning, everyone sweating in the early August weather. The aroma of the Wrens body odours was most pleasant, as all our senses had been heightened with our trip to France.
Arrangements were made to have a party with the Wrens in a pub that night. To set this up way the Leading Wren used the phone – even though strict orders forbade using the telephone for personal calls. I duly warned her after she made the call – in a joking fashion.
Everybody was in fine fettle with stacks of back pay and with a prospective night ashore it promised to be good. After midday we spent three hours fuelling and coaling for the galley. At 1600, the time for spark’s WT watch, orders came to proceed out past the Nab Tower² 15 miles and take up defensive position against possible V1 rocket attacks and attempt to shoot them down. Jesus Christ, who’s going to tell the lads? That was the biggest disappointment I ever experienced in the RN, those men were furious after all the time over the other side the RN could be so thoughtless to rub salt into the wound by sending us on such a useless errand – our party with the Wrens was obviously cancelled without returning to Haslar Creek.
The orders for next morning were to form up a convoy of 48 American harbour craft for Cherbourg³; the port had capitulated a week previously (last week of June 1944). These were very small craft manned with two Yanks apiece and they looked like army as most of their gear was khaki or fawn with peaked caps.
Six lines of eight were formed and the leader of each rank had a signal lamp. The majority were as good as us with the lamp, which was a pleasant surprise. They were escorted by three MLs, with our ship in front and two behind to pick up stragglers and strays. From the start old “Chaos” from Normandy would have been in his element, it was hilarious as they seemed intent on passing each other and had to be threatened with comply or return. We went past the Needles in a congealed mass and formed up two miles SW of the Needles lighthouse.
It was very slow progress with about quite a number braking down which the MLs at the rear could not cope with. The other was chasing around like a mother hen and the signals were coming in ten-a-penny. Most of it was situation reports. The sea was like a millpond and by nightfall we had three in tow and the column leaders had one or two likewise. The trouble with towing was we could not criss-cross to bolster their moral and about 2300 a horrible fog came down. For July this was exceptional and with fog sound is distorted in every sense. We could hear them shouting and only ever saw two after it closed in and we had to maintain radio silence throughout the operation because of the threat of German E-boats.
Next morning we were by ourselves with the three in tow. We arrived in Cherbourg with these three very late on the second day, very downcast. A conference was held and searches carried out at around 0500 the following morning. We headed for Jersey after they had worked out the tides and currents as to which way they had gone. None were found and when we encountered Jersey a hail of fire from German 6” guns met us. We undertook all the evasive tactics, very interesting and came out unscathed and returned to Cherbourg where we refuelled and reported back to Haslar.
The harbour at Cherbourg was in a terrible mess; the Germans had carried out a complete demolition job on it. All the cranes were tipped over, fuel tanks burnt out, together with warehouses in heaps of rubble. The only thing that worked it appeared were the starboard and port lights at the entrance to the port. We fuelled outside due to obstructions that had been sunk in the inner harbour.
I never heard what happened to those craft but I’ve often thought of them especially when crossing the Hoggin⁴ in a ferry. They must have called us some names I guess, but I know one can last over five days without food and water (from experience…).
With regard to our V1 defence line on stand by all night, normal watches called to action stations when two turned up. The first appeared about four miles away, and familiar to us as we had seen the fiery tail before in Normandy. The other, one at about four in the morning (change over watch, decent of the Jerries to consider that), flew directly above with little manoeuvring. The large flame (longer than our boat it appeared) out the back of the rocket lit up a great swath of the sea. It appeared to me to be flying at about 200ft but the Skipper said it was more like 500ft, but I’ll always remember everything being brilliantly lit up.
All guns fired except the three-pounder, even our beloved twin Vickers machine guns. It came over our mast and Carpenter fired the starboard Vickers and got one pan⁵ away on each barrel. I fired the port Vickers with no affect. I was watching the V1 and Carpenter and by the time I turned and aimed the gun I was no where near with half a drum, it was moving at a hell of a rate and what a bloody racket it made too.
The Skipper was overjoyed and pleased we missed the V1 as otherwise we would have been part of the channel tunnel if it had gone off. They never included the Defence Medal in my gongs, but it’s in the post, honest guv!
¹ The first V1 rockets attacks commenced on 13th June 1944.
² The Nab Tower was initially built in World War I as a means to prevent German U-boat attacks but the Armistice arrived before completion. Subsequently, it was turned into a lighthouse.
³ Cherbourg was captured by American forces on 27th June 1944.
⁴ The sea.
⁵ Pan – a container of ammunition clipped onto the top of the machine gun.
² The Nab Tower was initially built in World War I as a means to prevent German U-boat attacks but the Armistice arrived before completion. Subsequently, it was turned into a lighthouse.
³ Cherbourg was captured by American forces on 27th June 1944.
⁴ The sea.
⁵ Pan – a container of ammunition clipped onto the top of the machine gun.