“For reasons mainly to do with the worsening weather, the main assault on Juno Beach began later than scheduled and ran into trouble. The tide had risen over the first lines of beach obstacles with the result that instead of landing in front of them, the first assault waves found themselves landing right on top of the submerged girders and mines.
“Now, the majority of B5 knew nothing of this, being still in transit to their eventual destination, the Gooseberry. This main party had left Gurnard Pines on 2nd or 3rd June, crossed to Portsmouth on the old paddle ferry and thence took the train to Waterloo Station, London, to transit to Fenchurch Street Station for train to Tilbury, to join a ship for the trip down Channel to the Normandy Beaches.
“The party had some time to kick its heels in London. Incredible as it may seem, but nevertheless vouched by existing members of B5, the party was allowed to scatter for food and sustenance, each to his own devices, before reassembling at an appointed time at, presumably, Fenchurch Street Station.
“It is said that some members resident in the London area headed for home. Some, at the suggestion of L/Sig. Johnson, headed for the public house known as Dirty Dick’s in Bishopsgate. Les Seldon remembers hearing this suggested but himself, with three others, decided that food came first. Len Jeffrey remembers going to Dirty Dick’s - cobwebs, sawdust on the floor and stuffed birds on the walls - and says he can’t imagine going to such a place at any other time in his life!
“Les and three others headed for a Lyons Corner House where, arriving fully kitted and armed, to the surprise of a full restaurant, the manager found them a table and a very satisfying meal was provided on the house.
“How it came about that laxity of this kind was permitted in circumstances requiring utmost security is beyond belief. Certainly, had Lieutenant. Ray Evans been in charge, there is no way such risk of breach of security would have been countenanced. In fact, the whole party reassembled on time, which says a lot for the integrity of the individuals concerned.”
They took train to a part of Westcliffe-on-Sea, named HMS Westcliffe, and were accommodated in a semi-detached house overnight prior to going to Tilbury where their transport awaited them - a ship believed to have been the Asturias or the Ascanius (probably the latter as it was nicknamed “the old ashcan”) - which headed downstream to the Straits of Dover as part of “a sizeable convoy, part of the large follow-up force proceeding from East Coast ports.” The convoy was shelled by long-range German guns from the Calais area. “It was about this time that it was announced that Airborne Forces had been dropped during the night and that the invasion had started.”
The B5 party reached and boarded the Gooseberry in the afternoon of D-Day or D+1, when the block ships to form the Gooseberry were being scuttled. As B5’s ship came into the anchorage a vessel leaving ranged along her starboard side, and carried away one of her lifeboats. Their ship having anchored, B5 moved over to one of the block ships already in position. “This, with gear, was no easy task,” Malcolm recalls. Rope ladder down to a landing craft which carried them across to the Gooseberry, then up another rope ladder onto the deck of what was to be their home for the next few weeks. Once aboard, visual contact was quickly made with the Beach Signals people ashore and with other controlling craft.
“From the bridge of the blockship could be seen the scattered remains of landing craft of one sort or another that had been destroyed or damaged by enemy gunfire or by falling foul of the beach defence obstacles. Out of 306 vessels employed on Juno beach on D-Day, 90 were lost or damaged. Of these, the leading 24 became casualties. One of these was the LCI in which Bernard Stone and Stan Edwards were embarked.
“Bernard recollects,” says Malcolm, “that this LCI was carrying troops and equipment, about 50 in all underdeck forward and he and Stan were in a small hatch space in the stern.” They moved off in the early hours of D-Day together with “a stream of other landing craft, reaching the assembly area about 0715 hours,” ready to move in. “The weather had worsened during the crossing and, like many others, Bernard was badly seasick.” His condition was made worse by the smell of diesel fuel from the engine compartment. Shell and mortar fire met their approach to the beach. Their first attempt to get through the barrier of beach obstacles was unsuccessful and they pulled off to try further along. Shells from HMS Warspite passed over their heads, trying to silence a battery situated near the church in Courseilles, the tower of which was being used as a spotting station.
“There was a loud ‘crump’.” Bernard told Malcolm that he thought their LCI had hit another craft, but looking from their hatchway, “he realised the bows of the vessel had gone and it was fast sinking. He recalls that, despite the situation, he did not at that moment feel particularly scared, because he was so sick.” He remembered very little of what happened then until he was sitting on the deck of a destroyer with survivors from other craft, drinking hot soup. As far as he is aware, he and Stan Edwards were the only survivors of those aboard their LCI. He “has the impression that he spent the night on one of the Gooseberry ships but this is by no means certain.” He found himself next day, D+1, aboard the SNOL LCI, which I had joined the previous day, but his recall of the first few days is practically non-existent. “The fact that on that first morning, he gave his tot [of rum] - neaters at that - to me is something of which he has no recollection whatever.
“What brought this about was that, early in the morning of D+1, the fingers of my left hand had been caught between a hatch coaming and a falling hatch cover, not properly secured. The coxwain had dressed it with Elastoplast but I was in considerable pain. I well remember the beneficial effect of the rum, but Bernard, when reminded years later, could hardly credit how generous he had been!”
On board the SNOL LCI, Bernard and Malcolm were reasonably well provided for with food and accommodation. Working watches with SNOL, Malcolm says, “We felt we were fortunate compared with so many others at that time. Three of us watch keepers worked fairly long hours, four hours on and three off until 4.00-6.00 and 6.00-8.00 in the evening. We were receiving and transmitting radio signals.”
For those on the Gooseberry, where Stan Edwards had ended up, by all accounts, life was no bed of roses. In the early stages, rations and fresh water were in short supply; fresh water was a problem throughout.
“Resting on the bottom, the vessel’s upper deck and superstructure were still above water. The original crew’s quarters at the after end, which had some wooden bunks and a mess table, were used as living accommodation. Toilet facilities were either inaccessible or out of action. To reach the bridge, amidships, involved crossing the well deck from the after accommodation, which created a problem when, later on, the weather deteriorated even more. It seems that the ship’s departing crew must have taken with them all items of food and initially the members of B5 were restricted to the emergency rations they carried, supplemented by the emergency rations, such as Horlicks tablets, from the lifeboats.
“The food situation improved when a naval party, whose job was to repair and maintain landing craft, came aboard with supplies and a cook; the galley was brought into use. Fresh water continued in short supply, being restricted to what was brought aboard from time to time. Personal hygiene was also a problem, with only sea water for washing and dhobiing purposes and a lack of soap.
“The section on Gooseberry was kept very busy. For the amount of traffic it was called upon to handle, not only relaying signals from the beaches seawards but also dealing with signals originating from the