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Of the convoy below!
A Bird's Eye
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By Ex Bombardier J Elliott
1684162
It was in the month of May
1942 that I had one of the strangest and most frightening happenings
of my army life. I was a ship's gunner in a unit called D.E.M.S. (Defensively
equipped merchant ships) which later became Royal Maritime Regiment
RA. I was serving on a Norwegian ship called the M.V.NORMA with a cargo
from Grangemouth in Scotland to Beruit in Syria. We had to go the long
way round the Cape of Good Hope as the Germans and Italians were very
active in the Med.
We got safely round and gathered in convoy at Aden. By the way, we had
a deck cargo of "boom defense" which meant we had to have
the derricks at half mast. Before we left Aden in convoy, we were given
a small barrage balloon which we were to hoist at a certain time to
combat dive bombing attacks. when we reached this position, the weather
was very bad and blowing half a gale. The Commodore ordered us to hoist
our balloon but the wind battered it against the half mast derricks
and deflated it. We signaled the Commodore and he ordered us to hoist
a very large box-kite which we carried for emergency. We assembled it
and attached it to the winch. We had six men on the trailing ropes to
guide it up past the mast and derricks. When we got it clear, the Bosun
shouted for us to let go and we all let go.. I was the last man on the
rope when he shouted and I let go, but the wind took the rope around
my left wrist and upper arm and I went up with the kite!
I was buffeted against the mast and derricks because I could not let
go. The rope dug into my wrist and upper arm down to the bone. I was
worried about dropping into the shark infested sea but the crew managed
to winch me back on to the deck. I lost most of the skin off my hands
and my upper left arm was in a mess. I bear the scars to this day. I
was tended by the Second Mate who looked after me like a mother. Because
of him that I did not lose my arm. I continued to stand my watches and
declined the opportunity to go ashore. I am very pleased to say that
my hands and arm healed up perfectly. Two years afterwards I volunteered
for the Airborne Forces and became a paratrooper seeing service in Malaya,
Java and Norway. The photograph is all I have left and was taken in
Java. After my ordeal, we came back to the United States and were treated
like lords! The hospitality was amazing.
Read Joe's War
Memories of a Bombadier
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