Meadowsweet, Hayling Island
“We loaded up on 3rd June at Stokes Bay. We had Bren gun carriers on, and two or three sort of mobile guns - Buffalo tanks? On one of the pictures you can see the barrel on the left hand side. I think they were three-or four-inch guns. I was told by an ex-Marine sergeant what they were, as he was on one and on D-Day they were given specific targets to knock out before we got in. Most of the troops were the South Lancashire regiment. When we were loaded up, we anchored in the Solent with hundreds of different types of ships, all in lines, from Portsmouth to Southampton.”
“The troops had been paid in French francs and as the operation was postponed for 24 hours, they played cards with some of our crew. When we got hit on the beach, one must have been a driver. He was very unlucky, because when we got in to Portsmouth next morning, 7th June, before they cleared what was left of the carriers and of the bodies in them, from among all the debris on the tank deck, I picked up a two-shilling piece which was bent and had indentations of other coins on it. I still have it.
An informal group of officers and men of a Mk1 LCM caught by the camera
“I was a Seaman Gunner AA3. There were two of us; we had two Oerlikon guns on the stern, 20 mm. I joined 854 at Felling, just before D-Day. We had degaussing gear installed to counteract Magnetic Mines. When I got on board, the cook of the day was a stoker. He had made a milk pudding, with insufficient milk, so it looked like a sheet of rubber. The cox’n said, ‘As you are the last one in, you can be cook.’ We only had a crew of twelve so never had a designated cook like the bigger ships. That turned out all right, as I got out of doing watches. I must have done something right as I have been in touch with seven of our crew and two more were alive but never contacted me. Out of a crew of twelve that’s not too bad, is it? The cox’n lives in Australia and the first lieutenant who was wounded on D-Day got an MBE last year. I met him three years ago, the first time I had seen him since D-Day morning, when he was hopping about on one leg after being hit directing the armour off the craft.
“We set off for France about 2.00 p.m., 5th June. I honestly don’t think any of us were very scared at the time, probably a bit apprehensive. I know I slung my hammock and went to sleep. I didn’t even hear the paratroops go over. I was a bad sailor and was often sea sick. The LCTs were flat bottomed and the front was blunt so they went all over the place in a rough sea. If it was very rough, you could stand aft and as the bows hit a wave the tank deck would sort of ripple, but I was all right on D-Day although it was rough. I expect I had more to think about at the time. We took the tanks right in to the beach; provided we didn’t hit a sand bar when we dropped the door down, I don’t expect the water was much more than a couple of feet deep. The bigger LSTs drew much more water than us, so mostly they got in as far as they could and if they had water-proofed tanks on then they could go off but I believe most of the time they dried out first, which I suppose made them sitting ducks for the enemy.
“As we went in past the big battleships, who were quite a way out from the beach, we went close under one of their line of fire and she let a salvo go. The dust flew on the mess deck. It was so loud that it damaged the eardrums of the other AA3 chap. It did sound a bit eerie, as on the way in we could hear the shells go over. We had, like a lot of craft, a barrage balloon above us and the cox’n told me he thought that helped the Germans to range us. Now as for the cox’n having a camera, he was older than us and probably a bit more streetwise. I suppose if any of the top brass had seen him he would have been in the rattle. Our officers knew, as he took photographs of us all after we had loaded up and were out in the Solent, but they were OK as naval officers and as long as you done as you were told they were not too strict.”
“All of us young ones, I was 19 at the time, had to leave our ditty boxes, personal things, and our goodbye letters back in Portsmouth. That took a bit of thought at the time, as you didn’t know what to say, as the top brass were expecting huge casualties, they thought we stood a good chance of not coming back. Our officers were RNVR and mostly, while at sea, we looked like a load of pirates. When we came in harbour, it was proper Rig of the Day. It was different on the bigger, general service ships. They were stricter than us, Combined Operations, and had to wear the Rig of the Day.
“We got 3d. or 6d. a day extra, what they called hard layers money, because of the conditions on board. The deckhead was corked and then painted over, so with several hammocks slung on the mess deck, the body heat and the cold deckhead above us caused condensation so the water used to drip on us. Once you got in your hammock, you took the stretcher out and let the canvas fold over you. As soon as the tanks hit the beach, they had to get clear off the beach area, to let other vehicles and troops come in.
“I remember the beach master on Sword Beach. He was a Lieutenant Commander - big chap with a beard. He was the hero as he had to stop on the beach and direct the off-loading of troops, tanks, etc. and to keep the area as clear as possible. He was not a man to argue with. You must remember that all along the beaches were the iron girders and tripods with mines on the top of them and the landing craft had to find a spot where they could get in and manoeuvre between them. Being very rough, some hit the mines. The skipper had to line the craft up and drop the kedge anchor so many yards out from the beach so as we didn’t drift round broadside, and also it was handy to pull us off again. That was the proper way we were trained. A lot of LCAs didn’t do that and were swept on to the beach; where they thought they were saving time, it didn’t come off. We got in all right and dropped the door down. The sad thing is that the orders were that no dead were to be touched. It was, ‘Get the live ones in and get off out of the way.’ Any dead troops lying in the water had to stop there. When the LCTs came in, they had to drop the door down (about two tons), regardless of what was in the way. Nothing could be done for them.
“After we got hit, we pulled back off the beach and on the way out, an LCI came alongside and put out most of the flames with their hoses. Us winch party didn’t see it as we were pinned up in the winch space for quite a while. As soon as we put our heads out, the ammo in the carriers was going off; we tried to tow another LCT who had engine trouble but the tow broke so we had to leave her.
“After we were repaired, about ten days, we were off again, taking troops and stores across to France. On one of the trips, we unloaded. We went to Oiustreham and the German prisoners of war loaded on parts of the gliders which landed at Pegasus Bridge. We brought them back to Portsmouth. I expect they were used again at Operation Market Garden. We done several trips across, took some stores for the Americans on their bad beach; that was good as we nicked some of the rations and we had tinned chicken and best of all, soft toilet paper. Their rations were far superior to ours. On another trip we unloaded troops and vehicles and as we came astern the wind took us onto a pontoon, so we had to wait until the tide went out and back in again to float us off again.”
“Two or three of us cadged a lift into Bayeaux on a DUKW and back while we waited. I bought two post cards in the Cathedral while there. When we got back there was a jeep up on the sand and the lads went up to join the tooops gathered around and they said Churchill, Montgomery, Smuts and more top brass were there. I didn’t see them as I was on duty [cook]. Another trip we unloaded and were just off shore and the RAF came over with a thousand bomber raid on Caen. That was a sight to see! They went in very low and the flak was pretty heavy for a while but by the time our boys had finished with them there wasn’t so much.
Glider parts being transported back after D-Day
“The replacement officer who took the place of the one that got wounded on D-Day done several trips with us and then one morning, shot himself in the wardroom. In November. I think he was 19 or 20. We went ashore and buried him in Haslar cemetery. I put some flowers on his grave when I was in Gosport two years ago. What a waste of a young life! When we were doing the trips, we left Portsmouth about 2.00 p.m. and got to France next morning. As I wasn’t on duty after supper, I used to sling my hammock and sleep all night. Never worried that something might happen and I didn’t know