I’m sure you are very much responsible for the fact that we have not been forgotten for a moment even though we are so far away and the difficulty of shipping things so great. As I was writing the last sentence a large parcel has arrived addressed to me. I see it is marked “Knit goods” and has Mrs. Whitley’s name on the label. I have had it locked away not to be opened until we get out of dock, as the ship is teeming with acquisitive workmen and the men don’t need them till we leave.
Hoping that you are enjoying 1945 and wishing you all the best in the coming year.[29]
In his letter, Harrison noted the ship’s complement usually ran around 104 men; this was unusually high, as corvettes normally carried around ninety-six men. Harrison showed a real loyalty to his men and, once assigned to his ship, he attempted to retain each man. Having served in corvettes earlier in the war, he knew how hard it was to keep up the skill and cohesion of a crew when the men were constantly being transferred to other ships. He also believed having extra hands allowed the work of the ship to be distributed, allowing the crew to get better rest and not be too overworked.
Harrison’s personal manning policy came into question when he received a signal from the Canadian Manning Depot at Niobe on January 8, 1945. “Records here indicate you are over authorized complement 2 P.O.’s, 3 L/Sea, 1 SD and 2 Radar3 . Propose adjusting compliment. Request your comments be signalled.”[30] Harrison’s response was to draft ashore one of the ship’s cooks as dentally unfit on January 13.[31] This did not resolve the Manning Depot’s request as another cook would have to replace him.
On January 16, AS Gordon Gibbons was transferred to the hospital in Milford Haven[32] for a severe skin rash that would require several weeks of treatment.
Boiler cleaning and repairs complete, Trentonian moved away from the jetty and once again took up her mooring in the harbour. The ship did not remain idle long; orders were received to sail immediately into St. George’s Channel to aid a merchant ship in distress. Departing Milford Haven at speed, they made the short trip to the channel separating Ireland from Wales and found a large British merchant ship on fire.
Harrison brought Trentonian alongside the burning merchant ship and transferred over all the fire hose they could spare as well as a portable water pump. The skipper knew the Canadian hoses and fittings were not compatible with their British counterparts; he was taking advantage of the situation to officially “lose” all of Trentonian’s old equipment so it could be replaced with new fire-fighting gear.
Photo of a merchant ship on fire in the Irish Sea taken from Trentonian on January 16, 1945.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Tom Farrell.
Trentonian moved off from the merchant ship when the RN Castle-class corvette HMS Pevensey Castle arrived to assist. Harrison then circled the merchant ship with Pevensey Castle providing an anti-submarine screen at close range. The fire was extinguished and the merchant ship was towed safely to harbour; Trentonian returned to Milford Haven.
On January 21, Trentonian departed Milford Haven with convoy BTC 45 as the sole escort of the fourteen-ship convoy. They arrived at Sheerness on January 24 without incident. There was a signal waiting for Harrison on arrival that gave him and the crew cause for celebration and sadness. Lieutenant Harrison was promoted to lieutenant-commander, effective immediately. His work and performance were being rewarded. This news gave great pride to the men; they had known for a long time that the skipper should have his third ring.
The second part of the signal dampened the celebration: with the promotion came a new command, also effective immediately. Lieutenant-Commander Harrison was to take command of HMCS Joliette, a River-class frigate. After giving the news time to settle, Harrison wrote his last letter as commanding officer of Trentonian to Miss Farley in Trenton:
It is with a certain amount of sadness that I write to you this time, because it is to inform you that I am leaving the old ship in a couple of days. I have been appointed to a frigate, HMCS JOLIETTE, and will be joining her shortly.
Almost as much as I regret leaving the ship and her happy and efficient ship’s company, I regret breaking my official connection with yourself, and the many good folks of Trenton who have interested themselves in the ship. It has been a very pleasant experience for me to have been connected with you all.
I hope that one of these days we shall all meet again. Who knows?
The new Commanding Officer will be Lieut. C. Glassco RCNVR and I will pass on to him all my records of things that have been done or undone i.e. the balance between what has been sent and what has been received. There are one or two things still in the mail, as I mentioned in my last letter.
Please say Goodbye, for me, to all the girls and boys, and give them my very best wishes and my thanks for their good work and self-sacrifice on our behalf.
Tell them all, teachers and pupils, that if I ever get another chance to visit them, they won’t terrify me quite so much the second time. (I believe everyone in Joliette speaks French, so pity me if I ever go there.)
Well I’ll say Au Revoir (just to get in practice) to all of you and would like you to know that I shall always remember you and my visit to you, with pleasure.[33]
Trentonian’s crew watching the events from the gun deck, January 1945.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
Harrison touched in his letter his regrets for having to leave the ship and its crew, something felt even more by the crew. Their skipper had been with them since Trentonian’s commission, he had been with them in the early days of training the crew, the first convoys in the Atlantic, and the dangerous waters off Normandy. He had stopped the accidental attack by the American destroyer by placing his ship between the Americans and the helpless cable layer, saving many lives in the ship. He had kept a fair command of his ship. He had sent a few men to the cells, but only when absolutely required; for most incidents his punishment was light. He had fought for the crew, sometimes defying orders so his men could have a rest or a Christmas in port. The crew of Trentonian felt an absolute loyalty to their skipper because they knew that same respect and loyalty was also shared by Harrison.
Despite the news, the ship still had work to do. Later that day Trentonian departed Sheerness with TBC 49, one of the smaller convoys, consisting of three ships, of which they were the sole escort. The ships arrived at Milford Haven on January 28 after an uneventful voyage. A parcel containing a new selection of library books awaited them there.[34]
Preparations began to make Trentonian tiddly for the arrival of the new commanding officer. Covertly, preparations were also made to give the skipper a fitting send-off. During the next two days, the crew took advantage of any moment with Harrison to express their best wishes and regret concerning his departure.
Harrison spent his final days in Trentonian preparing for the administrative side of the transfer of command, finishing paperwork, logs, forms, and reviewing the final draft of the defects list prepared by Warrant Engineer Hindle for the upcoming refit.
On January 30, Harrison gave temporary command to his executive officer, Lt. Kinsman. The two officers made their way through the ship to the outer decks where the officers and men had gathered to say goodbye to Lt.-Commander Harrison. As he stepped onto the gangway, he turned and saluted the quarterdeck. Lieutenant Kinsman ordered the piping party to pipe the side one last time. Harrison turned and walked down the ladder to the cheers of the men.
14: A New Commanding Officer
I was lucky in succeeding Lt. Cdr. Harrison, an excellent officer and so I inherited a well-trained crew and a group of excellent officers.
— Lt. Colin S. Glassco, RCNVR, Commanding Officer, HMCS Trentonian[1]
Lieutenant Colin S. Glassco, Royal Canadian Naval Volunteer Reserve, arrived aboard Trentonian on January 31 to take over his new command.
Glassco had joined the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve at Star Hamilton, in July 1940. His first command was the naval reserve unit, Nonsuch,
in Edmonton, Alberta, which he held from April 1941 to June 1942. He then took command of the naval reserve unit, Discovery, in Vancouver, British Columbia, from June 1942 to July 1943.
Lieutenant Glassco joined his first ship, Ville De Quebec, nicknamed VDQ, a Flower-class corvette, in July 1943 as its executive officer. He remained with this ship until taking command of Trentonian.[2]
The new commanding officer was first introduced to his officers and then the crew was called together for introductions and instructions. As many of the crew expected, a new old man came with new rules. One of the first rules Glassco laid down was that no one was permitted on deck while underway without a life jacket on, and there would be no exceptions. This was a rule he brought with him from VDQ. Glassco was surprised that fourteen men of his new crew could not swim.
This alone was enough to spark murmurs amongst the men. They would have to wear the bulky RCN-issue life jackets while attempting to perform even the most menial duties on deck. The men expected to wear them during action stations, but having to wear them all the time was going to make their work harder.
The first order of business for the new CO was to review the defects list for the upcoming refit with Lt. Kinsman and Warrant Engineer Hindle. This was a very extensive list, containing thirty-six pages of items needing repair, replacement, reworking, alterations, extensive maintenance, or installation.[3]
Trentonian had now been in service for over fourteen months, working at wartime capacity without the benefit of returning for what would be normal maintenance during peacetime. Many items were beginning to wear out, including the vent that had been damaged in Bermuda. It had been repaired following the incident and several times since, but still continued to leak, causing the forward mess deck to always be wet.
All of the machinery was to be overhauled and rebuilt or replaced, new voice pipes installed, ventilation and insulation improved, hammock rails in the deck heads of the messes replaced, and all the weapon and electronic systems were to be reworked as well.[4]
The biggest alteration to the ship would not be visible from the outside, but would drastically change the chief and petty officers’ mess in the stern. The mess was to be completely gutted and the hammock rails removed. A bulkhead would be placed down the centre and bunks installed on one side with a sitting area for the chiefs and POs on the other. There would be no more swinging from the deck head for senior ratings.[5]
In Trenton a letter was posted in the local newspaper from one of Trentonian’s crew. Doug Excell, ERA4 from New Westminster, British Colombia, had written to R.J. Whitley, chairman of the Trentonian Committee.
I believe the general practice is for us to write to a young lady, but in my case I did not join the ship till last March and it was not until today that I heard of the young ladies writing to us, so as I have no address but yours, I will write this short note to you and you can pass it along to the members.
I wish to thank you for all the gifts that you folks have sent along to us and I want you to know that we appreciate them. A big bunch of gift cigarettes have arrived from you the last short while and they are gifts from heaven as far as we are concerned. We are on English rations over here and there is as much difference in the cigarettes over here and our own as there is between night and day, so it is a real treat for us to smoke good old Canadian cigarettes for a change. The wallets arrived safely and they are very nice and something we are all very proud of.
You may not have read about us in the papers but let me assure you that we are not idle and we are doing our share of the job. Some day you will be able to hear about our exploits.
To one and all of you, thanks a lot for the gifts and they are greatly appreciated. Good luck to you all.[6]
Lt. Colin S. Glassco, RCNVR, from Hamilton, Ontario.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of the Family of Maurice Campbell.
On February 1, 1945, the pipe was made, “prepare for leaving harbour, special sea duty men close up to stations for leaving harbour.” One of the liberty boats from Milford Haven came alongside with crewmen who had been ashore the night before. They had been stranded in the town by a dense fog the night before.
Under the watchful eye of the new old man, the crew grumbled as they put on their RCN-issue life jackets and closed up to their respective stations for getting underway. Under the lingering heavy fog, Trentonian started to glide through the still water of Milford Haven.
Getting underway had been performed the same as any other time, with one exception. One of Trentonian’s crew was missing. Stoker Bill Shields had been ashore the night before and had not reported back. The ship sailed out of the harbour without him at 0700; Shields was now considered Absent With Out Leave.[7]
This was Trentonian’s first convoy under her new CO. Convoy BTC 56 consisted of twenty-two merchants ships bound for Southend. As they made their way along the Cornish coast, Trentonian was joined by HMS Armeria to assist with the escort. The weather persisted with fog and increasing rain. The wind and the seas got heavier. The next day Trentonian was detached from convoy BTC 56, leaving Armeria as sole escort, and turned towards Milford Haven.
They had been reassigned to a larger convoy sailing from Milford Haven on February 3. Convoy BTC 58 consisted of thirty-eight ships also bound for Southend. Assisting with the escort was their chummy ship Moose Jaw and HMS Mignonette.
The weather continued to deteriorate and, at its worst, had blown up to a stiff gale, spreading the convoy out over forty-eight miles. By the time they reached the Isle of Wright, the storm had abated, but the thick fog had returned and the entire convoy had to come to anchor to wait for the weather to clear.[8]
Convoy BTC 58 arrived at Southend in the Thames Estuary on February 6. Waiting for the ship at Southend was their missing crewman, Stoker Bill Shields.[9]
Shields was met by the jimmy (executive officer) when he boarded and was informed that he was charged with being AWOL and would be sent for punishment.[10] Kinsman then took him before Glassco.
This was the first time that Shields had met the old man and he was already on defaulters. Lieutenant Glassco asked the young sailor what had happened and why he missed the sailing. Shields explained that he had met some of the men in Milford Haven at 2200 the night before Trentonian sailed. They had told him the liberty boats would not take them back in the fog and that they needed to find a bed for the night, for Trentonian was sailing at 0800.[11] He had found a bed at the local hospital and in the morning he went down to the jetty to take the liberty boat back to the ship. That’s when he was informed that the ship had already sailed.
Shields then reported to the shore authorities at Milford Haven. He was given travel papers and caught a train from Milford Haven to Southend, arriving there later the same day.[12]
Trentonian was not scheduled to arrive until February 4, so he was placed in the RN barracks and assigned duties. He had peeled potatoes for the mess and done other jobs with the defaulters. But Trentonian hadn’t arrived until February 6, so he had continued to work with the defaulters until that morning.[13]
Shields explained to Glassco that he had not intentionally missed the ship; it was an error of communication. Glassco accepted the explanation and, contrary the XO’s recommendation, let Shields off without punishment.[14]
The next day, February 7, 1945, Trentonian and Moose Jaw departed Southend with convoy TBC 62 heading back to Milford Haven. The convoy was thirteen ships; all but two were new British Park ships and American liberty ships. The two older ships were built in 1918 and 1919 and not capable of the same speeds as the newer ships. The convoy moved slowly but arrived safely at Milford Haven on February 10, 1945.[15]
Lieutenant Glassco received his first letter from Hazel Farley in Trenton. It congratulated him on his new command and outlined what the Corvette Committee in Trenton was doing for his ship.[16]
Once secure in harbour, shore leave was granted. Several of the men headed off to the hospital to visit their mate Gordon Gibbins. He w
as quite pleased to have the company. They told Gibbons about the old man, the recent trip to Sheerness, and generally brought him up to speed on what was happening in the ship.[17]
They also discreetly presented Gibbons with a whole chicken they had liberated from the galley.[18] Gibbons took the chicken and tucked it safely away to eat later when the hospital ward was not as busy; he didn’t want to get caught with food or get his mates in trouble for stealing a chicken.[19] When he finally did get to eat it later, he found the chicken was tasteless and rubbery — his mates had stolen a raw chicken. He covered the chicken carcass back up and, being confined to his bed, threw the chicken into a corner of the ward, hoping that when it was found he would not be blamed.[20]
Trentonian was once again starting to look grungy; the ship had not had a fresh coat of paint since November. The ship had a few days in port planned so Glassco turned the crew out to paint ship. Once again the men began the task of chipping and scraping the old paint away. The drab false hull camouflage was covered over, and once again the diamond and geometric patterns of light and dark grey were painted on the hull and upperworks. A broad band was painted on the top of her funnel.
While alongside the jetty, a new crew member wandered on board. A local mutt decided to check out the ship and then take up residence in Trentonian. The ship had been without a mascot since AB O’Brian had died. This new dog was very friendly and seemed quite at home in the ship; the men adopted it quickly.
Demonstrating what seemed to be a sailor’s primary duty — chipping and scraping for painting ship — a group of Trentonians take a moment and cross brushes for the camera.
Photo credit: SBA A. Singleton, courtesy of the Family of Maurice Campbell.
White Ensign Flying Page 19
