Original planning map of the invasion area at 1200 on the morning after the initial invasion. CornCob I and CornCob II sections of the convoy are being distributed along the beachhead and CornCob III section is waiting on the opposite side of the channel.
Map credit: Department of National Defence, Directorate of History and Heritage, box 83, file 81/520/1650, D-Day — Neptune Maps.
Trentonian once again anchored off the French coast at 0930 and contacted Juno beach headquarter’s ship, Hilary, to notify the authorities of the arrival of Cob III.[32]
While at anchor Signalman Jack Harold wrote in his diary,
We went back half way across the Channel last night and got the other cob. We have now brought them to the French coast and are standing by them. The heavy ships are still pounding the shores and towns from beside us here. The air is constantly reverberating with the roar of their guns. There was enemy activity here last night and a couple of ships were sunk. A few minutes ago we passed a frigate or destroyer escort which was smashed in half with her bows and stern sticking out of the water at a rakish angle. Her survivors were rowing about in a whaler. Our work here is I think just about finished. I imagine we will sail for England this afternoon, our destination Portsmouth. I hope we get some shore leave. The communications branch has been on sea watches since the twenty-third of May. This has been a trying ordeal for all of us. Not so much so, though, as the Army. They are the ones who are in there doing the actual fighting. They will be needing all the support we can give them and more. That is why I think we will be operating here in the Channel for a while. That however remains to be seen.
Apart from fierce fires started by the shelling and the bombing, the French country side looks very peaceful and beautiful. In peacetime I would have loved to have come here and spent a holiday. Maybe someday when the Nazi smudge has been completely erased from the map of Europe…[33]
Original planning map indicating the disposition of the block ships designated for Gooseberry 4, located at Juno Beach.
Map credit: Department of National Defence, Directorate of History and Heritage, box 83, file 81/520/1650, D-Day — Neptune Maps.
The wrecked ship was HMS Lawford, a Royal Navy Captain-class frigate converted to a headquarters ship for the invasion. She was bombed and sunk off Juno beach during the early morning hours of June 8; thirty-seven of its crew were killed in the attack.
At 1100, Trentonian, under instructions from the CornCob commodore in HMS Durban, escorted two merchant ships to Gooseberry 4 off Juno beach.[34]
Able Seaman Jack Scott reflected that the galley had been closed while escorting the CornCob convoys during the initial invasion and the crew ate hard tack (a hard biscuit) and coffee.[35]
With their convoy duties complete, Lt. Harrison gave orders for Trentonian to leave the assault area. At 1235, they sailed for Portsmouth with Louisburg (II) in company.[36]
Stoker Bruce Keir remembers standing at Trentonian’s rail while the ship slowly made its way through the fleet of ships anchored off the French coast. His last memory of that initial trip was watching Trentonian gently slip through the water, away from the Normandy beaches, and watching the body of an American soldier silently floating down the side of the ship, still with a lifejacket on, a bird stripping the flesh from the dead soldier’s exposed face.[37]
View from Trentonian on June 8, 1944. Stoker Bruce Keir wrote on this photo, “D-Day — Just some a few of the 4,000.”
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
7: A Deadly Mistake
Trentonian was ordered to submit a report to naval authorities but the incident never was made public. All concerned appeared to write it off as one of the tragic accidents of war [1]
— Lt. Jack MacBeth, RCNVR, navigating officer, HMCS Trentonian
After an uneventful crossing of the English Channel, Trentonian anchored off Portsmouth at 1925 on the evening of June 8, 1944. With a break from the rigors of the past several days, Signalman Jack Harold wrote in his diary,
We are now anchored in Portsmouth Harbour. There are almost as many ships here as there are at present on the coast of France. There is everything from ML’s to battleships here. We are not going to get ashore, I’m afraid. Sigs, tels, and coders are of course still on sea watches for the 17th consecutive day. We are going slowly mad, I think. However the big show seems to be over for us, unless they keep us here in the channel to keep the supply lines open.[2]
Trentonian remained anchored for the next three days; the crew were given a rest, but not leave to go ashore. The galley reopened for hot meals and the men living in the lower mess decks were allowed to move back there. The ship was resupplied and work parties detailed to clean and make minor repairs.
The ship’s mascot, AB O’Brian, served as a welcome diversion. Several of the men took the opportunity the downtime afforded them to teach O’Brian a few tricks, and there was always a sailor ready to spoil him. The dog had found his sea legs and often sat happily on one of the ammunition lockers on the bridge while the ship was sailing. Whenever any shooting started, he would hide below decks.[3]
Over the course of the three off days, the crew watched the busy harbour of Portsmouth. Ships returned from the invasion area for supplies and other ships left with fresh troops. Hospital ships returned with their bright white paint with red stripes and crosses which protected them from enemy attack.
Enemy activity near the invasion area continued. Sioux sank a German E-boat in defence of the invasion forces near Barfleur, between the American sector and Cherbourg, on June 11.[4]
HMCS Prince David, an infantry landing ship, at Portsmouth June 8, 1944. Many of the ships allocated to the initial phases of the invasion had to return for supplies. All of Prince David’s landing craft were damaged, sunk, or beached during the first day and required replacements.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
At 2100 on the evening of June 11, the crew was closed up to stations for leaving harbour and Trentonian headed out.[5] At 0215 the next morning, Trentonian rendezvoused with two British cable ships, HMTS Monarch and HMTS St. Margaret, and the cable barge Norman, already under escort of the British corvette HMS Dianthus and anti-submarine trawler HMS Hugh Walpole, off The Needles off the Isle of Wight. The two cable ships each had a barrage balloon to deter air attacks. Trentonian took over command of the small group as senior officer.[6]
A hospital ship arriving at Portsmouth from Normandy.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
Escorting the cable ships was one part of a secret plan and was given the highest priority. An underwater communications cable was to be laid from England to Normandy. This would allow rapid, secure communications to the invasion forces; radio messages could be intercepted, but the chance of the enemy tapping into underwater cables were small.
Original planning map of the invasion showing the situation by the end of the second day of the invasion. The map indicates the swept channels and navigation buoys along the channels.
Map credit: Department of National Defence, Directorate of History and Heritage, box 83, file 81/520/1650, D-Day — Neptune Maps.
The second part of this operation was called PLUTO (Pipe Line Under The Ocean). This program intended to lay underwater fuel pipelines from England to France. The timeline and successful completion of both of these projects would shorten the war; unlimited fuel for the army to push forward and secure communications for planning operations would give the Allied forces a huge advantage.
By 0310, Trentonian had begun escorting the cable ships towards their destination. St. Margaret laid its cable first. The cable ships travelled at the slow speed of five knots while they carried out their work. Trentonian escorted them closely, circling at a distance of between five hundred and seven hundred yards.[7]
The cable ships were not technically naval vessels, but they were operated by the British Admiralty. Only a few were available to maintain and provide c
ommunications links around the world, so protection of the cable ships was paramount and they often had their own escort assigned to them. They were manned by retired Royal Navy men, some considered too old to fight in this war, but who still wanted to do their part.[8]
Norman reported that its steering gear was disabled at 0420 and Hugh Walpole was detailed to take it in tow. Dianthus provided a close escort for the two ships while a tow line was passed between them and they rejoined Trentonian and the cable ships.
Signalman Jack Harold commented, “This is more or less a dull job not fitting for a ship of war, spinning circles around this small collection of slow ships. Other corvettes have engaged the enemy and are doing the really important jobs of bringing the troop and merchant ships across.”[9]
Dianthus and Hugh Walpole with Norman in tow rejoined Trentonian at 1200[10] and the group continued towards France.
St. Margaret extended its cable at 1315 and the job of securing the end of the cable to a buoy began.[11] This is a difficult process that takes many hours. After St. Margaret secured the cable, Monarch was to pick it up and secure it in that ship’s hold. While this went on, the two corvettes would perform close anti-submarine sweeps around them.
The tedium of the slow convoy was finally broken at 1340. Harrison later wrote in his report, “Bomb dropped by high-flying aircraft, one mile from cable ships.”[12] Word passed through the ship that three aircraft had been spotted nearby and the crew filtered on deck to watch. Signalman Jack Harold wrote of the event in his diary,
This afternoon when I was on watch, three aircraft came in sight. They were reported to the bridge but little attention was paid to them. However it soon was. Suddenly there was a tremendous explosion and a huge geyser of water mushroomed up about a quarter mile on our port quarter and just ahead of a convoy of LST’s which were proceeding serenely on their way to France. Then and not before were they identified as Focke Wulf FW190 aircraft and definitely not friendly. I’m damn glad that 500kg bomb didn’t come any closer. I think in fact that two of them dropped bombs, both hitting simultaneously. However, right after them came about sixteen Spitfires and drove them off. We had no more trouble of that kind.[13]
HMTS Monarch, a cable ship, in 1934. The cable ships laid and maintained undersea telephone and telegraph cables throughout the world and were a prize target of the enemy.
Photo courtesy of Porthcurno Telegraph Museum.
At 1600, St. Margaret had buoyed its end of the cable and Monarch began picking it up. St. Margaret and Norman, still in tow by Hugh Walpole, were sent back to Portsmouth under the close escort of Dianthus.[14] This left Trentonian with Monarch for the final phase of the cable lay to France. Monarch remained motionless while its crew joined the cable. Trentonian served as a screen while this operation took place.[15]
At 1645, Trentonian’s crew was called to action stations. A hydrophone effect that sounded like a torpedo moving left to right had been picked up. There were no surface craft on the bearing of the contact, and although asdic conditions were reported as very good, no echoes were heard that would indicate a submarine in the area.[16]
Lieutenant Harrison ordered Trentonian’s speed increased to sixteen knots and streamed the CAT (Canadian Anti-Torpedo) gear. This was a metal device designed to create noise while being towed behind a ship. The German Navy had developed an acoustic torpedo that could home in on the engine noise; the CAT gear was an inexpensive and simple counter-measure — it made more noise than the engines and so would draw torpedoes to it.
Trentonian patrolled a line between Monarch and the contact. They dropped three depth charges set shallow in an attempt to gain a positive asdic contact, all to no effect.[17] The hydrophone contact slowly faded and was eventually lost. After about thirty minutes, Harrison ordered the CAT gear hauled in, speed reduced, and the crew secured from action stations. Trentonian resumed its close escort of Monarch.[18]
Monarch finally began to move again at 2000, and the two ships once again made their way towards France. Harrison wrote in his report, “Cable joined, ‘Monarch’ proceeded with lay. After dark carried out circular patrol around ‘Monarch,’ distant about 700 yards, A/S listening watch. Responder Type 253 switched on. Heavy A.A. fire all around at various distances, also star shells.”[19]
At midnight, Harrison made another note in his report, “Picked up Hydrophone Effect on starboard beam, probably E-Boat. This contact was immediately engaged by four escort vessels that were passing, bound north, and was not heard again. Carrying out circular screen around MONARCH, distant 500–700 yards, speed 11 knots. Star shell and tracer being fired all around the horizon.”[20]
Tensions were growing in Trentonian. The “dull and tedious” escort job that had gone on for twenty-one hours had provided the crew with several moments of true excitement. They’d made contact with the enemy in the air, on the water, and, possibly, underwater. The only contact not yet made was with shore batteries, and that possibility was growing as the ships approached the coast of France. Lieutenant Harrison ordered extra lookouts posted around the ship.[21]
The two ships were alone in the darkness, but hundreds of Allied ships were around them. There was a constant flow of traffic travelling to and from the invasion area. Protecting and patrolling the invasion were several destroyers, frigates, and motor torpedo boats, each assigned to a group and given a precise area to patrol for U-boats, enemy surface ships, and aircraft.
Near Trentonian’s position, a group of four American destroyers were on patrol. At 0100 the closest destroyer to Trentonian was USS Plunkett. Its commanding officer, W. Outerson, commander, USN, noted in their log:
Steaming as before. At about 0100 13 June this vessel was in Station 28 on the Dixie Line as a unit of the screen for the Western Area. At this time a good deal of activity was apparent to the northward and many star shells were observed in this area throughout the earlier part of the night. At about this time two targets were picked up bearing about north. Conversation on the TBS and TBL intercepted prior to this had led me to expect the appearance of our own forces in this sector and these targets were assumed to be friendly. [22]
At 0203, Plunkett heard a query by USS Davis, the destroyer next in line to it, raising some questions about the two radar contacts they had assumed friendly. A reply was given but the message was not heard in Plunkett.[23] This raised doubts for Outerson and, with the range between the two groups at nine thousand yards, the time for answers was shrinking.
Outerson ordered Plunkett to fire star shell over the two radar contacts at 0230. The range was now only 4,500 yards and closing rapidly. The ship’s log reports the star shell failed to work properly due to the close range. A second spread of star shell was fired about two minutes later, Plunkett’s skipper noted, “due to personnel error was fired too low and hit the water before illuminating.”[24]
At the same time, Harrison noted in Trentonian’s report, “Course of ‘Monarch’ approximately 190 degrees. Several destroyers having been seen on either bow at some distance, two or three star shells fired over cable ship and escort from an ahead bearing. ‘Trentonian’, at the time of illumination was crossing ‘Monarch’s’ bow, starboard to port.”[25]
With the range between the ships rapidly closing, Plunkett made another attempt to contact the two ships, this time flashing the minor warship challenge at the nearest ship. It is not known if Monarch received this signal. Unknown to the American destroyer, Monarch’s orders were to follow a lighted signal from shore and not respond to it. Plunkett was in the same location as the expected signal on the French coast. Signalman Jack Harold believed the lighted signal from the beach was the same small ship signal flashed from Plunkett.[26] The signal was repeated three times, ten seconds apart, and after one minute with no response, Plunkett opened fire at three thousand yards.[27]
Harrison noted at 0235, “‘Trentonian’ on port quarter of ‘Monarch,’ distant approximately 600 yards. Firing commenced on a bearing of 160 degrees. No gun flashes w
ere seen. Shells were heard, apparently close, afterwards passing between the two ships, then coming directly towards ‘Trentonian.’ All shots fired at or near ‘Trentonian’ were high, except two or three which struck the water ahead and one which passed between the funnel and the pom-pom platform.”[28]
With no challenge from the nearby destroyers seen in Trentonian, it was thought the incoming fire was from a German shore battery engaging an Allied ship off the French coast. Some of the off duty crew were awoken by the sound of the incoming fire. They thought the ship was once again alongside one of the battleships and tried to go back to sleep.[29] Telegraphist Tom Farrell recalled, “I slept through the whole mess and was not aware of what had gone on till I lined up for breakfast and found a bunch of strange faces in line.”[30] Another crew member reported not knowing what had happened until he was awoken from his sleep and asked, “Do you have any clothes for the survivors?”[31]
Harrison ordered Trentonian closed up to action stations. Gun crews manned their guns, but all other men were ordered to remain inside the ship. Realizing his ship was being engaged by the American destroyer, Harrison refused to allow the gun crew to return fire. [32]
Harrison ordered the recognition lights to be flashed on and off. Aboard Trentonian it seemed as if the fire was then redirected solely at Monarch. As the shells started to smash into the cable ship, the sounds were overwhelming. The barrage balloon above the cable ship came crashing down on its decks; the whine of the shells was overpowered by the constant piercing shrill of Monarch’s steam whistle.[33]
White Ensign Flying Page 10
