The two ships arrived in Sheerness at 0610 on July 4.[14] As Trentonian docked alongside Prescott, the two ships banged together, knocking off a ventilator intake and tearing off a length of Prescott’s railing. To the amazement of Trentonian’s crew, instead of being upset, Prescott’s crew were quite pleased.[15] They suggested Trentonian back up and take another run at their ship; they were quite willing to have their entire port side stoved in.
Apparently, Prescott’s skipper had been trying to speed up a refit for his ship. Routinely he would set depth charges shallow, knocking the ship with each explosion, loosening the hull plates, causing the pumps to run continuously to keep the water out of the tiller flats.[16]
HMCS Trentonian, freshly painted in July 1944. The davits have been swung out and the ships whaler lowered.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
Surgeon Lt. West left the ship and was replaced by a Canadian doctor, Surgeon Lt. R. Gourlay, RCNVR.[17] Dr. Gourlay noted the condition of the sick bay when he reported to the ship, “When I joined the ship I found the sick bay inadequately equipped with medicines, instruments for minor surgery, and completely lacking in plasma and saline and the apparatus for its administration.”[18] The equipment that Surgeon Lt. West had ordered had not yet arrived.
Trentonian moved to the basin in Sheerness for boiler cleaning on July 5.[19] The process laid up the ship for five days, during which time the crew cleaned the ship and made minor repairs.
Trentonian had been in continuous operations since arriving in the United Kingdom and had not been painted since Halifax. Once again, Trentonian was looking quite shabby so the crew was turned out for “chipping and scraping” and painting duty. This time, an entirely new camouflage scheme was given to Trentonian. A large, dark grey wave was painted on an angle from the bow past the funnel and the pendent numbers were made black, outlined in white. Everything below the wave was medium grey while the top structures above were light grey.
Only half the crew was required to perform these tasks, so an extended shore leave was given. The men that had leave in Portsmouth on June 28 were to remain in Trentonian while the other half of the ship’s company were given two days’ leave — their first in forty-five days. Many of the men spent their leave in London.
London gave the men an opportunity to get away from the ship, eat in a restaurant, have a beer in the pubs, and explore many of the sites that the city had to offer. They also enjoyed the opportunity to sleep in a bed, not a hammock swinging from the deckhead.
While on leave, the crew took in the sights of London. SBA A. Singleton snapped these photos of Buckingham Palace and the magnificent fountain at Victoria’s Memorial.
Photo credits: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
For most of the men, their primary memory of leave in London was not what they had looked forward too, but what they saw, heard, and experienced. The damage and carnage from the Buzz Bombs hitting the city is forever etched in their memory. AB Jack Harold wrote in his diary:
The other day I had the good fortune to get to London and was amazed at the damage done by these “harmless” flying bombs. They have a peculiar effect. There is hardly any crater made, but the blast seems to shake all the insides out of the buildings leaving the walls practically intact. There were many of these hollow shells, with their floors and roofs all lying in the basements. In the pubs I managed to glean a few stories from the London citizens. Two of the most prominent in my mind are the following. I was talking to a Royal Artillery man one night and he said that one of his main theories on the antics of these infernal machines was contrary to the idea that they dive and explode as soon as their motors cut out, they will sometimes cut out and dive, then start up again and fly around some more. He said he saw one cut out then [continue] on again and fly in a circle four times before it finally crashed and exploded, killing three people and injuring a score more. Another tale I heard came from the lips of a middle aged baggage checker at the Beaver Club, just off Trafalgar Square. It was about one o’clock in the morning and I was getting my attaché case and exchanging a few pleasantries with him. Suddenly the sirens commenced their spine chilling wail. Their moan had hardly died away when I could feel rather than hear the snarling throb of a V1 almost overhead. I looked at the checker and thought he was going to pass out. He was pale and perspiration stood out on his forehead and his hand shook so he almost dropped my check stub. After the bomb had passed beyond earshot I got his story from him. The Sunday before, he was preparing to leave the house to go to church when the alert sounded. He heard no sounds from overhead however, so he opened the door and stepped out onto the front steps. Next thing he knew, he was lying over on the next lawn on his back, with nothing on but the sleeves of his suit coat. His injuries fortunately were superficial and the day I was talking to him he was completely recovered except for an understandable deathly fear of the V1 ’s distinctive and unmistakable roar.[20]
The first group of men started to return to the ship from shore leave on July 7 and, just as quickly, the second half of the crew left for their turn ashore. There must have been some unwelcome excitement on return from shore leave as one of the crew was sent for a few extra days of unwanted leave — to the senior naval officer in Selsey for punishment.[21]
Lieutenant Harrison used this time to catch up on the administrative operations of his ship and filed a complete nominal list of the crew.[22]
The remainder of Trentonian’s men returned to the ship on July 9, and boiler cleaning, maintenance, and repairs were completed. Trentonian moved from the basin and secured to a buoy in the harbour at 1515 on July 10.
On July 11, Lt. Harrison updated the citizens of Trenton in a letter to Miss Farley.
Thanks for your letter of the 1st of June which I just received. Also a parcel of records arrived today in very good condition. We have now got a gramophone or rather a radiogram which is connected up with five loud speakers in different parts of the ship, so everyone gets the benefit of either broadcast or records. So far we have had rather a scarcity of records and the same thing came over and over again, but now we shall have lots of variety. I must congratulate whoever chose the records. I have just been looking through them and all the sailors favorites are there. I can hear “Waltzing Matilda” now as I write. This evening we will broadcast them through the loudspeaker on the mast so the ships alongside will get the benefit. The Victrola has not yet turned up but it will probably arrive sometime.
We have just had a short spell in port and all the crew had two days leave which the majority chose to spend dodging “buzz bombs” in London. Previous to that nobody had been off the ship for 42 days, since 22nd of May, so the break did a lot of good.
As you probably know, we took part in the invasion of Normandy and although it wasn’t as exciting as we expected it to be, there was great deal of hard work attached to it and to subsequent operations which are not of course yet finished. The censors have very kindly told us that we can divulge the fact of being connected with the invasion and I think full advantage has been taken of the lifting of this restriction, so you have probably heard some highly coloured tales which would perhaps conflict with our rather monotonous recollections.
Our mail is still very scrappy some letters come in a couple of weeks and others take five or six weeks. However, I suppose we’re lucky to be getting so much. When the North African business was taking place, we didn’t get any mail in the Mediterranean for about three months. This has been a big improvement.
Please tell the Grade X pupils how much we appreciate the records. They are really very popular already although they haven’t all been tried yet. Thanking you all.[23]
AB Jack Harold in Trafalgar Square in London.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Jack Harold.
On the morning of July 13, Trentonian sailed across the Thames Estuary, arriving at Southend at 1140 to await its next convoy.[24] This next escort was a coastal convoy, and Trentonian left
Southend with it at 2030, passing through the Strait of Dover en route to Spithead off the Isle of Wright near Portsmouth.[25] A common practice by the escort ships was to attempt to conceal the convoys from the German shore batteries. Stoker Sydney Coates recollects, “The Germans had what they called ‘Big Berthas.’ These were guns on the coast of France and they would shoot at our convoys with these Big Berthas. Consequently, we would go ahead of the convoy and lay a smoke screen in front of the convoy so at least they were unable to see us.”[26] Trentonian arrived off Spithead with the convoy at 0400 on the morning of July 15. The ship remained at anchor the rest of the day and most of the next. Some of the crew were able to get ashore in Portsmouth. When they returned to the ship, they informed the rest of the crew of seeing several buildings that had been destroyed by Buzz Bombs since their last visit.[27]
At 2245 on July 16, Trentonian headed to its rendezvous with its next convoy. They reached it at 0200 on July 17. Once again this was a three-knot convoy of Mulberry tows destined for the French coast.[28] AB Jack Harold summed up the tedium and routine felt by the crew when he noted in his diary, “We are dropping our anchor off the French coast after having completed our twelfth voyage across the channel with those dammed cement blocks. God knows how long this will go on.”[29] Trentonian arrived with its convoy off Arromanches at 1947 that night.[30]
Trentonian remained at anchor off the French coast overnight. At 0755 on July 18, they joined Baddeck and a Royal Navy corvette, HMS Abella, to escort convoy FTM 41 to Southend (FTM was the designation for convoys originating in Seine Bay, France, going to Southend).[31] The convoy consisted of nine new liberty ships. The liberty ships were capable of travelling at a fast speed, a welcome relief from all the slow convoys Trentonian had been escorting. The addition of two more escorts also provided the opportunity to be more aggressive when an asdic contact was made.
Damage from the V-1 rockets during the Blitz in London.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
During this trip, several asdic contacts were made. Signalman Jack Harold commented, “On our return trip from France to England, we had a convoy of nine-knot liberty ships, a divine blessing after those cursed three-knot tows. During the afternoon and evening we had a few good pings, but only investigated two of them. We dropped one depth charge on each and a small oil slick came up. However, it was decided that they were only submerged wrecks. These quite often give off a very metallic- and sub-like ping, and exude oil if attacked with charges.”[32]
Trentonian, Baddeck, and HMS Abella arrived with FTM 41 at 1040 on the morning of July 19 with no further asdic contacts.
Trentonian and Baddeck returned to Sheerness and secured alongside each other. Camaraderie among the crews could always be found; sailors often found an old shipmate, classmate, friend from home, or sometimes a cousin or relative serving in the other ships. Signalman Jack Harold found an old friend in Baddeck, “We were alongside Baddeck in Sheerness and I was talking to a Sig. (Signalman) who had been in my class in ’42 . He said they had carried out four hedgehog attacks in the channel and they have been here no longer than we. One would almost be led to believe that our Old Man doesn’t give a damn if he gets his other half ring or not. Lord knows he’s due for it.”[33] Baddeck had carried out several hedgehog attacks and had engaged several German E-boats on June 13, the same night Trentonian had been shot at by the Americans.
There was a personnel change for the officers on July 20. The navigating officer, Lt. Macbeth, who had been temporarily appointed to Trentonian, was transferred to join the fast motor torpedo boats of the Twenty-ninth Canadian Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) flotilla. Lieutenant Ralph P. Abbott of Oakville, Ontario, was appointed as the new navigating officer.[34]
Trentonian sailed for Southend at 1330 on July 21 and arrived an hour later to wait for its next convoy. During the night several flying bombs were heard overhead.[35] Trentonian was joined by Calgary as senior officer and the two ships escorted a convoy of coastal ships and Mulberry tows away from Southend the next day.[36] The trip was slow and tedious but provided some excitement for the crew. Signalman Jack Harold documented the events that occurred early in the morning of July 23 while in the Strait of Dover in his diary:
Last night we sailed out of the Thames Estuary with an extremely slow convoy of two cement blocks and a few LCT’s and coasters. During the night a few flying bombs passed over, but the shore batteries have recently developed a technique in dealing with these menaces, and very few of them are getting far inland. This morning however an air of excitement reigned for a while. During a ten minute period about half an hour ago, six V1 ’s passed overhead in the direction of the mainland. The shore batteries (heavy 3.7 ”) opened up on them as soon as they got in range, which means they were directly above us. One of their shells scored a direct hit on a bomb and it exploded with a deafening roar and flash that could be seen for miles up and down the south English coast. We were ordered not to venture on the upper deck without a helmet on. Such a warning as this, of course, brought us all up on deck to see what was going on. A number of us were standing on the after boat deck when suddenly a loud purring shriek told us that a shell from one of the shore guns was approaching a little closer than we thought was necessary. In fact it passed over the engine room hatch, not fifteen feet from where we stood and exploded in the water about fifty yards on our port beam, shooting a column of water high in the air. Most of us who had been lured up on deck by the thought of seeing some fun, scampered below and were gone almost before the shell exploded. It was soon followed by another, which passed over at almost the same spot, and which led us to believe those crazy kippers were attempting to shoot the maple leaf off our funnel. That was the last one to bother us and we are now out of range of those goofs at Dover. (That is where we were when the above incident took place.)[37]
Later that afternoon, Trentonian gained another asdic contact and Harrison ordered a depth charge attack. Signalman Jack Harold noted the event and his personal feelings about the results:
The action station bells clamored loudly for us to close up. We did so. Another ping. Another depth charge. Damn it, I think the old man and the A/S Officer must be buying all the depth charges themselves on this tanker. I’m getting pretty sick of this one charge business. Anyone with a sense of grey matter can see that one charge instead of starting any Doppler effect as they seem to think it will, will merely cause the U-boat to bottom and shut everything off until we go away.
Dropping one depth charge was a common practice. If the asdic had a weak or undetermined contact, the escort would drop the charge in the area of the contact to stir up the water with the intent of gaining a stronger asdic contact. The asdic signal could be masked by different water conditions including layers of cold water. Usually the asdic contact was lost when the disturbance from the depth charge settled.
Trentonian and Calgary delivered the convoy to the French coast at Arromanches at 1740 on July 24. The two ships returned to Sheerness at 1350 on July 25. The next few days were spent in harbour and leave was once again given.
On July 27, Lt. Harrison sent a request that an Officers Selection Board be convened for Signalman Jack Harold.[38] Harrison had watched this man’s performance since he joined the ship in Quebec City and recognized in him the potential of becoming an officer. The skipper had previously sent Harold over to Kitchener in early March for what Harold had thought a short assistance assignment. In fact, he was being observed for potential selection as an officer.
Mail arrived for the crew and Leading Seaman William Jacobs from Ottawa, Ontario, received a disturbing letter from home. His wife had become seriously ill. He approached the skipper and Harrison sent an immediate request for Jacobs to be assigned to any ship returning to Canada for compassionate reasons.[39]
The sick bay material ordered by Surgeon Lt. West in June finally arrived. Surgeon Lt. Goarlay stocked the sick bay and remarked, “This order adequately stocked the sick bay in medicines
, instruments for minor surgery, and plasma for serious casualties. Some major surgery could be done with the equipment on hand if the necessity ever arose. With all this equipment certain alterations in the sick bay became necessary.” A defect list was tendered and changes were to be performed at the next boiler cleaning.[40]
Even with a doctor in the ship, dental care was very difficult, as dental units were not easily accessible, causing any sailor with a tooth problem to suffer until it became unbearable. On July 28, Trentonian’s doctor had to send one of the men to HMS Wildfire for extraction of all his teeth. Following the procedure, the sailor was sent to the Canadian Manning Depot Niobe as unfit for sea duty.[41]
Harrison took advantage of the few days reprieve to update the citizens of Trenton with the progress of their ship in a letter to Miss Farley:
Your airgraph letter arrived on board today. I note that the electric washing machine has been forwarded to Halifax. The procuring of this machine was indeed a praiseworthy achievement on your part and on the part of all that helped.
I only hope that when it is received, that the entire ship’s company will be truly appreciative of the value of the gift and of the work and trouble you and the other good “Trentonian’s” have had in order to procure it for them. They are still getting the most out of the records and as I mentioned in my last letter the selection was inspired as all are popular. I imagine the gramophone and washing machine will be held in Halifax until our return, on account of their bulk. It is hoped that our return is not too far distant but as yet we have no idea of when it will be. The ship’s company are having a much easier time now and a good deal of shore leave. Practically all of them have braved the “doodlebugs” and made a trip to London.
White Ensign Flying Page 13
