Pauline Ball of Uxbridge Close, Lower Gornal, contacted me a while back about her dad's memories of his time in the Royal Navy. It is a gripping document of 199 pages that was Louis Glazzard's second attempt at writing a diary of his time in the Royal Navy in the Second World War - "the first one going down with the ship".
Louis joined up as a volunteer, was drafted to Chatham and after medical examinations he passed his trade test "with flying colours and was entered into the service of my country as a Wireman", training to learn "the secrets of depth charges and minesweeping. The class that I was in was No 21 and although it consisted of chaps from all over the country including Scotland and Wales, a finer set of chaps you could not wish to meet."
After a spell in Lowestoft, Louis and his pal "were beginning to feel a bit browned off with Lowestoft, so my mates and I decided to volunteer for draft, and as nothing could be had unless we waited our turn, we decided on a bold stroke and put in for foreign draft - were accepted, passed the doctor and given seven days leave, which although it was February and freezing cold, we were glad of".
A month later the lads were issued with tropical gear of shorts, shirts, stockings and white shoes, and, last but not least, a white topee and they were sent to Greenock in Scotland where they boarded HMAS Napier, a British ship taken over by the Australians. This was a Tribal class destroyer, carrying two seven guns forward and one aft, including numerous AA guns of all calibres from a light machine gun to heavy stuff and a set of torpedo tubes "and was, in fact quite a formidable warship".
On the day that Napier set sail, Louis recalled that "my heart sank to a new level as the lights of Great Britain receded into the distance. I watched them till they faded from my view and my thoughts were with my loved ones, my parents, sister and brothers." His feelings of sadness were made worse by sea sickness, which he suffered until reaching Gibralter.
After a short stay there, the Napier sailed in a convoy down the west coast of Africa to St Helena, where Napoleon had been exiled and died, and thence to Cape Town in South Africa. Louis passed some time here in a wireless station before joining the Kai, one of a number of former whaling ships that had been turned into a mine sweeper.
From South Africa, the Kai sailed up the east coast of Africa for Mombassa and then Aden, after which it made for the Suez Canal.
At Port Tewfik, the entrance to the canal, "our ship received its baptism of fire. We had weighed anchor about half an hour when Jerry was announced by the wailing of the ship's sirens and the Wailing Minnie ashore.
"We went to action stations but it appeared the target was a trooper that had docked there that day. The planes were driven off but not before they had hit one of the ships. She was a merchant packet but as most of the crews got ashore safely there was not much worth worrying over."
After journeying through the Suez Canal, Louis and his crewmates finished up mine sweeping from Port Said.
Then on Christmas Eve 1941 "the bomb dropped - the Skipper cleared lower deck and told us, in so many words, that we were one of the ships detailed to go to the Western Desert". Here a gruelling battle was being fought for the control of North Africa.
The Kai joined a convoy for Tobruk, "where we had to wait till nightfall before we could enter the boom and tie up alongside a wreck. To get through the boom was a real work of art, even in the daytime, so you can guess the trouble we had in getting inside.
"It was unusually quiet (just like a graveyard at midnight) and it stayed like that till the dawn was breaking, and then they came over the town, machine gunned the streets and dropped about three bombs near the harbour. The place was alight with tracers from the small armament and from the flashes of the big guns - then came the deathly silence."
In the morning "the first thing that caught the eye was the state of the harbour. From information we got later, it appeared there were about 120 wrecks in the harbour including an Italian cruiser and an Italian luxury liner, although I am sorry to say there were quite a few of ours - merchant ships, men o'war and minesweepers.
"One of our ships in particular had a fine record, that being the Ladybird. She was a river gunboat made for the China rivers and owing to the shallow draft she had been used in the desert for bombarding the coast, but she had paid the price when the Stukas had caught her in the harbour.
"She had been dive bombed and sunk, and when she had gone down with all guns blazing she had taken a toll of about 16 Stukas. The dive bombers were accredited with such accuracy that it was almost impossible to stand and watch them on the target."
Concerned that the Kai had too little protection, its skipper went ashore to get extra guns and came back with two Spandres, an Italian Fiat, and a few thousand rounds of German and Italian ammo - and as Louis noted, "it was a pleasant thought that we could shoot their own ammo back at them".
That night "Jerry visited the garrison on a softening up process, and there were men on the quay 'bomb happy' and firing like hell in any direction with everything that fired.
"Jerry hit the Navy House and things were getting so hot that we were ordered to move into the middle of the harbour out of the way. The air was filled with flying shrapnel from the guns, and when it was all over we looked like a porcupine where pieces of shrapnel had hit the deck and stuck - one piece had stuck the chart to the table on the bridge and when we came back it was still there and was painted with the rest of the fittings."
For a week the Kai swept Tobruk Harbour and was then sent up the coast to Derna. Within minutes of arriving "we had a hit and run raid with three bombs dropped between us, the Nebb and the Morato".
For the next six weeks, the ships swept for mines and then "came the news that Benghazi had fallen and convoy after convoy was making its way to Tobruk along the coast road. We were given no official news and we had to tune in to the BBC to find out what was happening."
The order was given to prepare to evacuate Derna. As well as the mine sweepers there was a merchant packet "crammed with soldiers and equipment as the coast road could not take them". What was left of the quay was mined and the Naval shore staff had gone back by road.
The Germans were expected any day "and that night Jerry came over and gave us a pasting. He dropped quite a few bombs and set some place ashore on fire and I firmly believe that was what saved us. The wind blowing towards us gave us an effective smoke screen and with our small arms we kept him off."
On the next day the Kai and the other ships withdrew to Tobruk where "everything was in turmoil, ammo and Red Cross supplies were being landed and other non-essentials were being taken away. A ship was burning away, a victim of the last raid only a few hours since.
"We were told to load up with non-essentials and to stand by for orders. We lay to about two days and things were beginning to be a bit sticky. We had been told that the swastikas had been hoisted in Derna about five hours after we had left."
From Tobruk, Louis and his pals were directed to Alexandria and then Port Said, where they stayed for several weeks.
As Louis wrote matter-of-factly, "Well, Tobruk fell and we were driven back to the Egyptian border. In the three months following there were several attacks by enemy planes on our shipping and mines were dropped.
"One day the sweepers had a good day - we blew up five, but three merchant ships got a packet, two sunk and one got towed back to harbour."
The loss of Tobruk on June 20 to Rommel and his army was a terrible blow, but between June 30 and July 25 his seemingly inexorable advance was halted at El Alemain, 60 miles west of Alexandria. The tide of the war in North Africa had turned. Between October 23 and November 4, the British 8th Army attacked the Germans and beat them at El Alemain, and within a week Tobruk was retaken as Rommel retreated across Libya.
As for Louis, he was transferred from the Kai to another ship, and eventually he was sent to Tripoli, which had been taken from the Germans on 23 January 1943.
The night he arrived "we had a hell of a raid and just outside the bathing huts in which we were sleeping were a battery of Bofors and, oh boy, what a row they kicked up!
"We were sleeping on the deck and to make more room had hung our gear on an assortment of pegs, but with the first few volleys everything finished up on the deck.
"Four planes were shot down that night and just down the way about 50 soldiers had been killed by a direct hit on their dugout. For about a week this went on but it gradually eased off."
From Tripoli, Louis and his unit were sent westwards by lorry and had two really rough handlings. On the one occasion it was night time and "about four of them came over and we were sitting on the tailboard of the lorry. It was not really dark when they dropped their first load and I heard them coming and dived on the deck.
"One stoker was petrified and had to be pushed down. How we escaped injury was a miracle. The lorry about five yards away was peppered with shrapnel and the small wagon was covered in sand.
"One blessing was that the petrol lorry, which had about two thousand gallons on board, had been entirely missed.
"Jerry tried again but by this time we were in the slit trench. This time he dropped anti-personnel bombs but quite a few were delayed action and about two in the morning there were a succession of loud bangs. One lorry was hit and it had a load of motor tyres aboard. It was hopeless, but the main idea was to get it out so that Jerry could not see his target. I'm afraid that the lorry had to burn itself out and Jerry went away - I should say a very satisfied man.
"Next morning was something that I believe was sincerely prayed for and I, for one, was glad to see daylight. When we looked around there were three holes and in the one was the remainder of the bomb and you could have put four three-ton lorries in there without any trouble."
At last, Louis and the salvage team, to which he was attached, reached Sfax in Tunisia where, within 24 hours of the port falling, they cleared the port of sunken wrecks and ships and had begun unloading food and ammunition. Tunis itself was taken on May 7 and five days later the North African campaign ended with a British victory.
From Sfax, Louis "joined the mightiest armada I had seen at sea. We had nothing to do but sleep and eat, but then our Commander cleared lower deck and told us why we were here and what the ships meant - Salerno.
"We were taking an active part in the invasion of Italy and were to be a landing party for base maintenance. Our main job was the repair work of ships and wireless maintenance with all craft - some order.
"But first he said we had to get ashore, which would be by no means easy. We were issued with iron rations and our rifles were tested with about five rounds. We had fire drill, boat drill and every other drill."
After two failed attempts to land in daytime, Louis and the other naval chaps went in at midnight.
"We were guided in by Army signals into a strip that had been cleared of mines and then came the unloading and discharging our cargo in the dark and with a fair chance of getting a shell in the centre of things.
"Believe me it was a nightmare and one I shall never forget. Although it was dark, the night was lit up at various intervals by our battleships standing off shore and firing over us into the hills beyond where the majority of Jerry's mortars were situated."
After several months, Louis was posted to Naples and "with more equipment coming from home, we were able to tackle any job on a ship, from re-wiring to removing the main dynamo from a destroyer".
Then at last, Louis was sent back to England: "English soil - what simple words and yet the magic they hold. And the hundreds of thousands of lads who were in foreign parts - what they would give if they could only put their feet on English soil.
"What it holds to a returned serviceman - home, friends, and loved ones. The dream realised of the years you had been away with only a letter to know that you were not forgotten in what you might call the civilised world."
Keen to get back home as quickly as was possible, Louis managed to get to London from Chatham and caught a late train. He arrived at "Dudley Port about four in the morning with about seven miles to walk, although two civilians volunteered to give me a lift with my baggage and, believe me, I had quite a bit that I had picked up on my travels. We walked about two miles when I parted with my friends, or so I chose to call them.
"I was feeling quite tired being up all night and chasing around so I sat on my case and was having a smoke when along came the mail van who enquired where I was going and gave us a lift to the main post office in Dudley.
"He took me in and gave me a cup of tea and biscuits and said if I'd like to stay till six he would take me to Gornal, which he did and I thanked him very much and he in his turn wished me a pleasant leave."
Unsurprisingly, it was an emotional homecoming. His family imagined that Louis was in Italy. The door to his home was open, as it was in those days, "and I had a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes as I walked in and said 'hello everybody' or rather shouted upstairs as everyone was in bed.
"The dog just wagged his tail as if it was only about three weeks I had been absent, instead of three years.
"They thought it was my brother at first, who at that time was serving in the Army at home. Then they realised who it really was and the welcome I received, the tears that flowed, were tears of joy and I was made a cup of tea. Carpet slippers and a host of questions were fired at me, but I was falling asleep so my bed was made up and I slept the sleep of the happy man who has realised the ambition of years to get home."
Mind you, that was not the end of the war for Louis, because he was involved in mine sweeping during the Normandy Landings in June 1944, which is where "we had our lot".
After sweeping off Arromanches, Louis' vessel picked up survivors from a ship hit by a mine and took them to a hospital ship.
On their return they lowered the small boat to rescue survivors from an MTB that had been blown up by another mine: "Then it all happened in a flash, a kind of roar and the ship lifted in the water. The small boat went right under - the chaps in there had been blown back on deck. I was blown across the ship.
"Water from the spout must have gone to a terrific height - it came down and nigh on washed us overhead. Her back was broken and she started to sink - we had roll call and after getting the chaps out of the engine room the only trouble among us was bruises and cuts."
"The Skipper gave us a shot of whisky and of rum which steadied us. He sent me to try and get some light on but the water was coming in that fast it was hopeless so we decided to abandon ship after getting all confidential papers off. All this happened in a matter of minutes, about nine at night. Landing craft picked us up and the dear old ship was left to its own.
"True to tradition the Skipper was the last to leave it. We were taken to The Ambitious, given blankets and bedding after seeing the doctor who fixed up our bruises. I'm afraid that I slept from exhaustion and in wet gear. Next day they fixed us up with dry gear and we had our meals with the staff of the ship who were quite friendly."
Following that lucky escape, Louis returned to Lowestoft and was demobbed late in 1945.
His train "left for home at midnight but it was hopeless to try to sleep. It was a big thing for me to realise that after the years of blood, sweat and tears it was all over and we each and everyone of us were going back to places and people we loved.
"Some were not so lucky. They had lost homes and loved ones and as my train drew in to the station and I began my trek home, I said to myself as the day dawned, 'Louis, a new day is dawning, but its more than just an ordinary day, it's the day that is starting a new life'."
