Chapter Six

First Command December 1940 – February 1941

On 6 October 1940 Robert was appointed to HMS Osprey at Portland for training in MASBs. Prior to the commissioning of St Christopher at Fort William, Coastal Forces officers trained at Portland. His service record then shows him appointed 4 November to command MASB 16, replacing her sick captain, and then MASB 18 on 18 November. Both boats were building at Hythe so he was ‘standing by’ them. MASB 18 was a seventy foot Napierengined boat with a top speed of only twenty-seven knots and thus considered too slow for fighting E-boats. Once this problem was recognized, however, plans were laid to change the Napier for the new Packard engines imported from the USA, which would give her front line capability but which delayed her completion. Perhaps due to this delay Robert was ordered off to Command MASB 14 on 23 December 1940. He was not appointed to MGB 64 until February 1941.

MGB 64 and MASB 14 were very similar boats. They were both the product of George Selman’s design, the chief designer for British Power Boats, and were both seventy feet long. They were hard chine, that is to say their underwater design allowed the boat to ride up on the crest of its bow wave at a critical speed and plane over the water. Depending upon the engines this could give them a top speed of up to forty knots, which MGB 64 enjoyed, having three Rolls Royce Merlins. From mid 1941 the standard power units for new MGBs became the Packard.

MASB 14 was very lightly armed, with two single Vickers 0.5 inch machine guns and depth charges, having been originally conceived as an anti-submarine craft, hence their name, Motor Anti-Submarine Boats. Shortly after the start of the war the Admiralty noted that the Germans did not appear to be using their submarines in coastal waters, the only area suitable for MASBs to operate in, and it was then decided to convert the MASBs into motor gunboats, which meant that they were re-armed and reengined. MASB 14 had been earmarked as a training boat at St Christopher until she could be converted into an MGB.

MGBs were heralded as the answer to the E-boat which had wreaked considerable damage on British convoys ever since the fall of France and the Low Countries had placed German bases close to the British coast, transforming the strategic situation. E-boats, operating at night, were attacking British convoys inadequately guarded by the very small number of destroyers and corvettes available for escort duty. E-boats were a difficult target to hit at night in the days before radar controlled gunnery. With a top speed of thirty-eight to forty-two knots, a length of 115 feet, two torpedo tubes, a 37mm gun, plus two 20 mm guns and two machine guns, E-boats had real teeth. They were also used for mine laying.

The longer term solution to the E-boat problem appeared, to the naval authorities, to be the building of new classes of boats. These included Steam Gunboats, Fairmile ‘C’ and ‘D’ type MGBs and a new class of ‘short’ MGBs, British Power Boat built and seventy-one feet six inches long, roughly the same size and design as motor torpedo boats but not armed with torpedoes in order to concentrate their capacity to carry weight on heavier guns, as their task was to attack the E-boats rather than larger enemy shipping where torpedoes would have been essential. They also retained two or sometimes four of the depth charges which had been fitted for their anti-submarine role and these turned out to be, in effect, their only heavy weapon, though delivering depth charge attacks against surface warships was one of the most dangerous acts that the Royal Navy was called upon to undertake.

Throughout the narrative that follows, both in Robert’s diary and in his unfinished account of motor gunboat warfare, We Fought Them in Gunboats, are to be found essentially two themes. Firstly, that MGBs were too lightly armed to make much impact on the larger and almost equally fast E-boats and hence the struggle to persuade the Admiralty that they could and should carry the additional weight of heavier weapons. Secondly, that in spite of their specialist role in fighting E-boats, they often saw opportunities to use torpedoes against larger targets and there was no reason why torpedoes should not also be fitted, their weight compensated for by removing unnecessary equipment such as anchors, substantial stocks of reserve ammunition and heavy powered mountings for guns which could perfectly well be hand trained and as such were more reliable. Much of Robert’s determination was required for success in both projects against entrenched opposition from the naval authorities, in spite of support from British Power Boats and George Selman, and indeed from his senior officers up to the level of Commander-in-Chief Nore.

Monday, 24th December 1940. Here I will resume after a gap of shore-going. Well yesterday morning (Sunday, 23rd December) I was all set to spend the day at Power Boats¹ and then slip off the next day to spend Christmas in the bosom of my family, which even then seemed too good to be true. It was not to be.

I was late over there and arrived with a signal to take over MASB 14 forthwith at Milford Haven. My hopes were dashed. Prospects of an infernal railway journey followed by the difficulties of taking over a fresh job with entirely new people just over Christmas time when one does like to see familiar faces. I must admit I was sad. I had so counted on seeing little Antsie opening his stocking, the first I should have seen as he was really too young the year before last. Also the thought of reading to the children in the evening and of Antsie snuggling against my arm while we had the Milne poems and of Bob’s eager little face listening to the Arthur Ransome books was rather saddening.

However, I had to get busy. I got back to Southampton and got my ticket and found out the trains. Six fifty from the Central station. Then I had lunch and went back to Lucy’s.² I packed my things into two suitcases. It was difficult to know what to take in view of the word temporary in my appointment. Was it for a week or months and what sort of work was it to be? Then I sat down and wrote a long screed to Catherine for Loveday to take back and another long screed to Campbell³ with instructions on lots of points. I also put calls through and actually got Catherine’s call just before I left at six pm. I’m glad I did because it would have been even more disappointing to her if she had expected me in the car the next day.

Finally I had a large tea of sprats, said goodbye to Lucy who had been more than kind to me during my time at Hythe, and then got off with Loveday in the Rover.⁴ It was bitter cold and freezing. Luckily I took food with me. We arrived at the station at six twenty-five and as there was an air raid on I told Loveday to go away again at once. Then I proceeded to sit on the station until seven forty before the train came. There was no food on the train and indeed no light. I finally arrived in Milford Haven at about two thirty in the afternoon the next day. A monumentally unpleasant journey on Christmas Eve in extreme cold. I stood it better than I should have expected and did not feel too tired. There I reported to the base, who told me to have lunch. This I did at the Lord Nelson and then had a shave and came back. I was then told that a motorboat would come for me to take me to No. 14 which was lying at Pembroke Dock a few miles up the estuary. I waited for the boat and finally, after a very cold journey in a speedboat, reached my ship at about four pm..

I was relieving Shaw, a Lieutenant RN, who I knew as he was in Fitzroy in the 4th MSF. I discovered then that he had been appointed to No. 63 an Anti-E-boat⁵ which made it look as though they were putting me into 14 temporarily until they had another suitable person and until 18 was nearer completion. At least I hope that is the case as I don’t want to be stuck in a training flotilla for long. I was also informed that they were on their way round to Fort William to the training flotilla and had taken five weeks to get that far from Portland owing to defects and weather. I was to sail as soon as possible and get up there with all despatch as the boat was badly needed.

I was taken ashore to spend the night in the RAF barracks there, where they work Sunderland flying boats. I was glad to be able to get a bath and meal. We decided to turn over the next day, Christmas morning. As I was feeling rather forlorn it being Christmas Eve and knowing no one and feeling very tired, I thought I would put a call through to Catherine and hope for the best. I was surprised and delighted to get through very quickly. It was nice to talk to my family, I spoke to Bob and Ants too, and I heard that Loveday had just arrived as I was speaking, which was good news. But in a way it made it feel all the bleaker when I had to ring off. The only thing to do was to think of all the people who were worse off than me and nowhere in touch with their home at all. That is the worst of being so devoted to one’s family. Then I went to bed and slept soundly, as I was very tired.

Christmas Day 1940. I woke and looked at my watch. It was seven ten. I at once thought of the children just about to get busy with their stockings and I could visualise the whole scene. I suppose one of the most attractive memories of any parent who is fond of children.

We handed over early. Then I settled down to my charts and worked out a suggested plan. I aimed at getting to Peel on the west coast of the Isle of Man on the first day’s run. This had every advantage as if the weather was bad I could duck into Holyhead. If I succeeded I should be certain of doing it in three days, barring accidents or very bad weather, as I had a shortish run then into the shelter of the Mull of Kintyre and I could have gone on there on the third day by the Crinan Canal if need be. Or if I was lucky I could make one bold day of it and go right on by the Sound of Islay past the Isles of the Sea (lovely name) to Fort William.

I had an early, rapid and lonely lunch of turkey and jelly. But I think I was lucky to get any turkey at all in the circumstances. Directly afterwards I hopped off to the base at Milford Haven in a speed boat and saw the Commander there. I fixed to start early the next morning and try to make Peel in the Isle of Man. I got my recognition signals and route and off I went. When I had squared everything up for the night aboard, I went ashore with my charts to work out all my courses as navigation is hopeless while under way in these boats.

To my great indignation I had been left by the late captain with no parallel rulers. So after ringing up Catherine and hearing about the children’s Christmas, I sallied forth to the RAF operations room and worked there using their rulers. By the time I had finished everything and written a few essential letters as to my doings, it was eleven o’clock before I turned in.

It was nice being able to get through to Catherine again on Christmas Day, a sort of homely feeling when you’re with strangers, but in a way it makes you almost more homesick, because you can visualise just what it is like at home, and you do so wish you were there and there was no blasted war on. However there it is. Thus ended my Christmas Day, the second of the war. My first saw nearly the start of my naval career in minesweeping. My second saw the very start of my active service in HM Motor Boats, because we made a signal at 08.00 on Christmas Day to the effect that Lieut. R.P. Hichens, DSC, RNVR, had assumed command of HM MASB 14.

Wednesday, 26th December. Boxing Day. We got off in almost pitch dark at 08.00. It was tricky finding my way down the long reaches of Milford Haven. It became light as we got outside. And then we opened up to our regulation 1800 revolutions and headed north.

It was lovely at first flying over the calm seas and the prospect was good, but over-clouded. Presently when we were off the South Bishop light and headed for a one hundred mile run out of sight of land, the wind freshened rapidly and dead ahead. We were in an area fiercely marked on the charts with overfalls. I very soon learnt what life at sea in a fast Motor Boat was to be like. I did not want to reduce speed because I was running to a schedule and I could not possibly risk making Peel in the dark and therefore if I had reduced I should have lost a whole day by having to go into Holyhead. So we kept on batting.

It is an indescribable sensation going fast into a steep head sea in a speed boat. The feeling of shock preponderates, closely followed by the feeling of leaving your stomach behind as at the start of a scenic railway drop. You see a big sea coming up ahead. You have the sickening sharp drop, followed by the sudden shock bending your knees and making you hold on hard. All this is almost instantly followed by a shower of solid water which lands on your head as you crouch in the dustbin.⁶ Catherine would not like it!

Well we stuck to it and after about four hours conditions got better. By this time I was soaked to the skin, because it is impossible to do anything in the way of changing when the boat is bumping severely. By this time I expected to see land at Holyhead, but it was thick over the shore way, so I headed in to try and get my position, hoping that I had not overshot the mark and was ploughing on towards Liverpool. The visibility was only about a mile or two and I was getting anxious as I should have been near land by this time. But my reckoning was very difficult. I had never taken the boat to sea before. I had only the supposed speeds per revolution counter marked on the navigating notebook to go by, and the ASDIC dome⁷ had been taken off since these notes were made, which was bound to affect her speed. Also I did not know the effect of the bumping in reducing speed through the water.

At this moment we sighted a destroyer who challenged us. I asked him my position. The reply came back ‘South Stack 036 fifteen miles’. I was on the right course but fifteen miles short of my reckoning. Either the previous captain was all to glory with his notes on speed or the bumping had checked us more than I expected. A bit of both I expect.

So on we ploughed and presently the high shoulder of the South Stack loomed up ahead quite high above us. The visibility was very poor. I had rather a difficult decision to make then, because we were one and a half hours back on our schedule by then and if I could not make more speed than heretofore it would be dark before I reached the Isle of Man. The alternative was Holyhead and the loss of a day. The sea was calmer by then and I decided to risk it. We opened up to 2000 and roared on north. The sky cleared and the sun went down on the most perfect bright horizon such as you get in midwinter in northern latitudes. The Isle of Man loomed up well on schedule this time. The extra two hundred revs had made a lot of difference. That run in towards the Isle of Man, lit by the last rays of the sun sinking behind us, was one of the most lovely I have had. The high mountains of the island looked beautiful. We reached Peel, a little harbour on the west side, about five thirty with the last of the light. Peel has an old ruined castle at the harbour entrance. The red western sky was just behind this as we entered and showed off the old embattled walls to perfection. It was an unforgettable sight.

We tied up alongside a Dutch minesweeper. After getting out of wet things and putting them on the engine (our only drying apparatus) I went ashore with the First Lieutenant in my best uniform. I had to ring up N.O.I.C.⁸ at Douglas and arrange my sailing signal for the morrow. We found our way up the funny little town in the dark, it reminded me rather of a little Swiss town, and were directed to an hotel. There I rang up and fixed to sail at 09.00 with the light. We asked for dinner and they said they had none, but the kind old lady of the house took pity on us and said she would produce a meal. This she did and very good it was. Soup, pork, plum pudding and cheese and biscuits, for which she would only take the sum of two shillings. We stuffed ourselves as we had had practically nothing since breakfast. She was a dear old thing and chatted to us as she brought the courses in to us in front of a big fire in their private room. She said how she had a sailor son who had just been back on leave to ‘bear’ a son, I thought she said; so I said cheerfully how nice, etc. and was rather overcome when she said ‘buried’, realising that I wasn’t on the right tack at all.

Outside in the bar meanwhile the local inhabitants were making merry it being Boxing Day. They were singing heartily and it was rather nice to hear them. We went out and had a beer and then returned to our ship to bed. Altogether we took a good view of the Isle of Man and the Manxmen.

So ended Boxing Day. Quite an eventful day which finished amidst decidedly damp sheets and pyjamas, a condition which I now realise is likely to be remarkably permanent with me for the future. I have no doubt the human frame will get used to it!

Thursday, 27th December. We were off with the light. There was a fresh N.W. wind blowing straight into Peel harbour causing us to bump about considerably but as we neared the Mull of Galloway, with the sun rising gloriously behind the high hills of the Isle of Man, the sea seemed to ease down, though the wind freshened. It was a lovely day with a clear sky. We were very lucky as it made all the difference to pleasure and navigation. The next bit of land we sighted was the Mull of Kintyre, looking high and fine, and just a misty glimpse of Ireland on our port bow. I was pushing her along all the time at 2000 as I wanted to try to make Fort William before dark. With a fine tide under us we were making twenty-six knots over the land. The fastest navigating I have done yet by far, but I hope to do faster yet.

After that we slipped across to Jura and went through the Sound of Islay. It is only about two cables wide in places and going through it at about thirty knots with a ripping tide under us was exciting. All the people at the lighthouses as we passed came out to wave.

Then we roared away up towards Oban careering along on the tide race. We were very lucky carrying the tide with us the whole way, with the result that we arrived in good time at four forty-five. The last bit in from Oban up Loch Linnhe through the narrows to Fort William was fine. It seemed strange to see a large convoy anchored opposite Oban. Apparently the place, which until recently had hardly been aware of the war, was shaken up by the bombing of a convoy on Christmas Eve, three ships being sunk and five more hit.

I was mighty glad to arrive at Fort William after two hard days. Given bad luck or bad weather it might have taken me a long time because it is four hundred miles in notoriously dirty waters. My predecessor had taken five weeks to get from Portland to Milford Haven, a matter of about two hundred and fifty miles only. It was also lovely to have a bright day in which to see the lovely Scottish scenery as we came up.

When we arrived we went off to a buoy over the far side of the loch from Fort William and I had to get a boat and go to see the C.O. of the base. He is one Commander Welman, DSO, DSC, with multitudes of bars thereto. A great C.M.B.⁹ man in the last war. We had a priceless talk as I had had a decent bit of gin with some friends who came aboard and he asked me my opinion on things, and being rather ginned up I said I thought this was the worst place in the world for a training base as you had none of the things you had to contend with, namely heavy weather and bombing. I added that I thought Motor Boats were being mucked about as we were all anxious to get cracking and never got the chance. Much to my surprise he agreed heartily.

Friday, 28th December 1940. We came alongside early and then proceeded to do nothing except remove all detonators from depth charges, except two. In the afternoon we cleaned the ship and I saw to a lot of correspondence that needed attention. Very cold and damp aboard. No heating whatever. Everybody assures me that the paraffin heaters are all burnt out and won’t work.

Saturday, 29th December. Went ashore for a long walk along the north western side of Loch Linnhe. It was lovely. Very wild, just a fringe of cultivated land about an acre wide and then wild rough mountainside towering up. Just before lunch, while I was waiting by the loch side for my little boat, I saw a telephone booth in the adjoining hut. It surprised me in such a wild spot. I wished to ring Catherine and thought I would try it, thinking I might at least find out if there was any chance of getting through to Cornwall in a few hours. Within five minutes of picking up the receiver I was through to Treworval and could hear perfectly. Certainly the most wonderful telephone call I have so far achieved.

On returning from my walk I did some work and remained shivering and damp and turned in early. I don’t think I have ever been so uncomfortable in my life. I suppose I shall get used to it. Water drips onto one’s bunk and settee. Everything has to be kept in a suitcase or it gets soaking.

Sunday, 30th December. A day of training. Out morning and afternoon with officers and men swarming over the boat. In the late afternoon when we had finished as I was returning to the trot where we moor at about twelve knots, we struck some submerged object good and hard with our centre and starboard propellers. We were not near land or rocks and in seven fathoms, so suspect it was a barrel full of tar. Several of these have come down the loch and they may float completely submerged. It is most unfortunate as I’m afraid it will put us out of action and necessitate a trip up the Caledonian Canal to Inverness to slip her, as they have no slipping arrangements here.

Monday, 31st December. New Year’s Eve. We got underway in the morning for training purposes, but found the vibration on the shafts too bad to make it worth carrying on. So we came in and made a report. Perry,¹⁰ the training officer, who was at Power Boats and who knows more about these ships than anyone, was very helpful.

Still remarkably uncomfortable, but I have gone into the question of the heaters. I have got one to work now which makes all the difference. Goodbye the Old Year. I saw it out in my damp little trap. It certainly has been a teaser. I hope I shall never live through a worse time than May to September, after which we knew the Germans could not wipe us out as they had the rest of the Continent. Thank God for the Channel.

Wednesday, 1st January 1941. I went ashore this morning and tried to get some heaters. The Paymaster was most helpful, but there were none to be had in Fort William. All the training officers seemed to be suffering from the effects of a pretty cheerful New Year’s Eve, Hogmanay as the Scots call it. It appears to be the greatest day for getting drunk in Scotland.

Friday, 3rd January. I went to dinner with Perry and we talked shop. He told me that he had been asked to pick out another officer to assist him in teaching the handling of these boats, and that he had noticed that I could handle them and he wanted to know whether I would help him. It put me in rather a fix because I didn’t want to refuse to help him and yet the last thing I want to do is to get stuck in this training job. So I said I would provided it did not in any way prevent me going back to operational work. He said it wouldn’t and in fact would be good for me as it would get me known as an efficient chap and that when the time came in the Spring for the big Motor Boat offensive I should be able to go back to operational work for certain. I hope he is right.

Saturday, 4th January. A quiet day, still waiting and hoping for orders to proceed. I am slowly getting a bit more work out of my crew. I got the bilges properly cleaned out this morning. They could not have been fully inspected before because very few of the bottom boards would come out without a terrific struggle.

It is extraordinarily beautiful up here at times. In the morning while the sun is still below the mountains to the east, the first of the light begins to pick out the western mountain tops and with the snow on them they look a mysterious bluey green. It is most fascinating and extraordinary, but mighty cold.

Sunday, 5th January. This morning we were called up by lamp from Fort William and told that Commander Welman wanted to see me that forenoon. So I went off in my best suit and had a pleasant interview. He has, alas, appointed me to assist in the training. I said I hoped it would not prevent me from going back to operational work very shortly, at which he rather took offence and indicated that he had no wish to keep anyone back from operational work. Which only made me the more suspicious.

He then said that I could start off up the canal to Inverness the next morning. So I went away rejoicing at getting going at last, but rather anxious about getting involved in a training flotilla.

Then I put a call through to Catherine. She sounded much more cheerful and well and herself suggested what I had been longing for but was afraid would be too much for her, namely that she should come up here with Antsie as soon as Bobby had been settled at school. She said she would come and sounded excited about it and that Bobby would be at school on the 17th.

I finished the day by doing a splice in a big mooring rope and going for a long walk and then writing a long letter to Catherine. She often says she doesn’t believe I love her. I suppose its because I’m not effusive and often abusive, but if she knew how thrilled I was at the prospect of her visit she would never be worried about that again.

Monday, 6th January. It was a lovely day and the prospect of the trip up the canal was pleasing. We got into the first lock at Corpach at about ten thirty and then started our slow progress up. There are eleven locks in the first two miles after leaving the sea and they take a long time. So we were still within sight of Fort William at two o’clock after hours of hard work. When we got to the top of these locks we found there was quite thick and unbroken ice on the canal which we could not possibly break without ripping our bottom up. It looked as though we would be stuck there for the day until they could send the ice breaking tug from Fort Augustus, but luckily a Dutch iron merchant ship was coming through the ice a few minutes after we had arrived at the top. It certainly was a bit of luck. The children would have loved to see her crumpling the thick ice in front of her with a great cracking noise.

Even then it was tricky going for us. We had to go dead slow and I had to keep a very wary eye out for heavy pieces and often stop her as one nasty bang would have holed her. We had a pretty seven mile stretch then from Banavie locks to Gairlochy locks. After that we were in Loch Lochy, the most beautiful loch I have ever seen. The mountains come steeply down to the water and it is quite lovely. We went quite close passed a lovely Georgian house which had a large glass front door. I looked at it through the glasses and saw a lot of little children crowded at the door watching us. We did a bit of mutual waving. They are certainly safely refugeed here.

At the end of the loch are a couple of locks called Laggan locks. The light was going when we arrived and so we stayed the night there. There was a nice lock keeper. I went to his house to ‘phone the base and saw his two little girls. I said I had two little boys in Cornwall.

It was an exceptionally cold night. I went on deck just before turning in. A full moon was lighting up the whole countryside and glinting on the water, and ice was already forming tight round the ship. I took one more look at the snow covered hills blue in the moonlight and retired to my trap, kept beautifully cool by being only divided from the freezing water by one inch thickness of wood. It would make a good place for cooling champagne!

Tuesday, 7th January. In the morning we found ourselves firmly embedded in ice and the reach stretching away from us solid. You could throw heavy stones on it and not break it and there had been no ice there the night before. It must have been a terrific frost last night. We had to wait until the tug could reach us from Fort Augustus, which meant several hours as she could not be there until about two o’clock.

I went for a long walk in the mountains and observed the funny mountain sheep closely. They certainly have the most magnificently warm coat provided by nature and the funniest little black faces. Then I talked to the lock man and learnt all about ‘maggots’ which apparently breed very free and large in Scotland as a result of the bluebottles. Then I went to a funny little shop near the lock and found two (the last) lovely tins of sweet biscuits which I bought for the children. I thought Bobby would like to take his to school.

Finally the tug came and went on west leaving us to force our way through broken ice. This wasn’t too bad through Loch Oich, a funny little narrow loch, but after that the last few miles to Fort Augustus were awful. Thick heavy blocks of ice, broken but covering the water. We had to push our way through dead slow. Start and stop for ten seconds at a time. It was very tedious, but we finally arrived at Fort Augustus somewhat exhausted but unhurt except for loss of paint. We were lowered down the five locks into Loch Ness as it was growing dark, free of ice at any rate on the eastward passage.

The old lockmaster, a regular old Highlander, came aboard and knocked back neat whisky as though it was lemonade, delighted to find somebody who got it cheap.¹¹ When he had succeeded in squeezing himself out of our diminutive hatch we went up to the Lovat Arms for a bath and dinner. The bath was the best I have had for ages, so long I couldn’t reach the ends lying at full stretch.

Wednesday, 8th January. We arose to a thick fog, but I was determined to push on. The exit into the loch was easy and after that the course was straight and no obstacles except other craft. If our compass was not accurate, as I suspected, we should only come close to the sides of the loch where there was deep water and we had a cable’s visibility.

It was rather eerie after we got fairly launched in the loch. We might have been in the middle of the Sargasso Sea instead of Loch Ness. We had been informed by our bibulous friend of the night before that the local opinion about the Loch Ness monster was that it was all tripe and a newspaper romp, but highly convenient to themselves for trade purposes. No local had ever seen it, even in his cups. This was comforting as otherwise one could imagine it rearing out of the fog.

After we had proceeded cautiously for about an hour, we saw the shore to starboard dimly and straightened up along it. Soon after the fog cleared miraculously and we proceeded at about thirteen knots down the loch, which is attractive, with one lovely old ruined castle on a point. Then we went through narrow Loch Dochfour, and another loch and then along the last seven mile stretch of the canal, the dullest of the lot and so to the five locks at Inverness. There we had to wait for two hours while a couple of merchant ships came up. Meanwhile I walked into the town and reported my arrival and sent a signal to Fort William. When we got to the bottom of the locks I found that we couldn’t get out of the sea lock that night as the tide was too low. So we tied up at the end of the canal and had a somewhat convivial evening with a Scotch engineer who was working in a naval office nearby. He also appreciated our cheap whisky.

Thursday, 9th January. I had arranged to get through the sea lock early and cover the two miles round to the slipway by ten o’clock in order to catch the morning tide for getting on the slip. I had to have a pilot. I suppose it’s an old custom so that these chaps can get a living. As it was I was glad because it was a thick fog. So thick that at one moment the pilot said he thought we had better anchor, but I was determined to catch that tide and we went on and luckily picked up the little post that marked the narrow entrance to the river.

We were quickly slipped and the damage revealed as a couple of propellers damaged, as I had suspected. The P¹² brackets and shafts were intact. It seemed likely that the work would not take long and that we should be ready by Monday or Tuesday. So I reluctantly decided to give no leave and to give up hope of any for myself. I had hoped to get down and see Bobby off to school for the first time.

I took up my abode in the Douglas Hotel. It was nice to be warm and dry again in bed. They have plenty of eggs and butter up here too.

Saturday, 11th January. A morning sloshing around in the ice and snow of the yard watching progress. Then at noon I rang Welman at Fort William to report the probabilities of the finishing of the work and at the end of the conversation got a great surprise when he said ‘The Number One of your new boat is up here, Campbell’. I thought at once of 18 and said ‘Good, I hope he can be with me while I’m here’. I puzzled over that all afternoon at the yard. Did it mean 18 or something else. It was exciting anyway as anything was better than the training flotilla. So I tried to get a ‘phone call through to Campbell to hear the buzz and almost as I was doing it he appeared at my hotel. We had a breathless talk. It appears that, DV,¹³ I am to take command of 64, an MGB with three Rolls-Royce Merlin engines and to be in Howes’ flotilla. Howes was an R.N. Lieutenant whom we saw a lot of at Hythe who is to be flotilla leader of the Sixth. Above all we were to be together and to do our working up at Fowey.

The prospect was altogether too dazzling. It was what we had always aimed at. Campbell brought a letter from Shaw saying that he had seen the signals and that when asked by R.A.C.F. (Rear Admiral Coastal Forces, Piers Kekewich) whether he could spare any officers Welman had said yes, Chesney and Davidson,¹⁴ two who were in disfavour through cracking up their engines by allowing them to freeze, and that I was to be retained as assistant training officer The reply to this from R.A.C.F. was that I was required to take the crew of 18 to 64.

We knew that Perry and Welman wanted to keep me and we were desperately afraid that our dreams would be shattered by him getting at R.A.C.F. and saying that I was needed here for training. So we rang through to Howes at Fowey and told him the position and he said he would do all he could to ensure that things went through. Actually I have heard from another source that Howes asked for me in his flotilla, which is fine because I’m sure we’ll get on and I think he will make a most excellent flotilla leader.

Tuesday, 14th January. The end of our visit to Inverness is in sight. We hoped to get her in the water this afternoon and succeeded. As I suspected with the correct distribution of pressure coming on her hull, the shaft took up correct alignment and so in the evening, after a rather long and anxious day, I went off to report the good progress to Welman, as I was anxious now to get back.

He was pleased with my efforts and so I asked him when he thought I should be going to 64 as I wanted to know what to do about my wife coming up for a visit. He said he thought I should be off within a week or two at the most, whereat I rejoiced mightily as it meant he was not any longer trying to stop me going. Or so I hope. He also said that Campbell would be arriving that evening to accompany me back. He arrived and we went cheerfully to bed that night.

Wednesday, 15th January. We ploughed through the Inverness locks and then had a rapid run up Loch Ness which was great fun. She was going well. Campbell enjoyed the trip and the handling very much. We worked up through the five locks at Fort Augustus and arrived at the top as it was dark. It gave promise of a very cold night to come, so I arranged with the tug to take us on the next day the whole way, starting with the light at 09.00. Then we had a drinking session with him and our old friend the lock master. The latter was quite boozy when he left and had great difficulty in heaving his large bulk out of our little hatchway. Then we went and had dinner at the Lovat Arms and so to bed.

Thursday, 16th January. It certainly was an exceptionally cold night. In the morning we were firmly frozen in and the ice was very thick. Then followed a very anxious period of ice breaking, following the little tug which was unfortunately narrower than we were. I must say I was worried by the ice. If it had holed us or bust our propellers it would have been the limit. So I took extreme care. Campbell was a great help and the trip has polished up my handling a great deal.

We got clear of the ice again at Lochy and had a beautiful run down there in sunshine. It is by far the most beautiful loch I have seen so far. Then we had ice again, only much lighter, right down to the sea lock. It was a beautiful clear field of ice covered in snow and looked whiter and smoother than anything I have seen. It was fascinating watching the tug crash through it, the whole white floor rising at her bow and then splitting suddenly a few feet further aft into small bergs.

We reached the sea lock at five forty-five after a long anxious day. I was not sorry to be back and so ended our adventurous and interesting trip through the Caledonian Canal in mid-winter.

Friday, 17th January. I’ve been darned lucky to get 64, a Rolls-Royce boat.¹⁵ I am working hard on these engines now, getting all the details up and it is work that I love and am fitted for as I do like engines so. Three Spitfire engines whose welfare is entirely up to me! What could be more suitable. Perry apparently was asked by Welman how he thought I would get on in a Rolls boat, as I am the only RNVR chap to be given one so far, all the others being RN. Perry said he thought I was one of the few chaps he had met who might be able to keep one running, which was rather a nice write up. Being the only RNVR boat in the Sixth MGB flotilla, Campbell and I will have to be on our metal!

Today Bobby went to school. I thought of him much this evening. I do hope he will be happy; happier than I was. I think he will be. Poor little Bob, starting out in the world. It’s a funny world just now to start out in too!

Saturday, 18th January. Training classes in the morning. Very dull except that it is blowing up hard from the N.E. for the first time since I’ve been up here, which made the handling more interesting. It is nice having Campbell up here. There is also a very nice RN Sub. called Scott who is training with us for a Higgins¹⁶ boat. He is most amusing and we three have great fun together. Scott is a triplet, having two perfectly healthy sisters born with him. Most unusual. It is going to be a dirty night.

Sunday, 19th January. It was a dirty night. As a result I passed it sleeplessly. The banging of the waves on the boat, which being hard chine is like a drum, was most disturbing in itself, added to which our mooring in this direction of wind allows our stern to be within about thirty yards of some rocks and with a really hard wind my anxiety lest we drag was enormous.

I rang Catherine just after lunch and had a nice long talk. I was delighted to hear that Bob had gone off very happily and contentedly to school with a large new Meccano, which appears to have brought him instant and undeserved popularity. I’m awfully glad about the whole arrangement.

Then I went for a long walk with Campbell in the snow and biting north east wind, which set me up no end. I am very pleased to find that in spite of my age, thirty-one, the maximum age for these boats being supposed to be twenty-five, and the very bad weather conditions, I am settling down to living in this tiny ship in damp and cold and am now thoroughly liking it and feeling well. I wouldn’t live ashore now if I could, except to be with Catherine or doing some dockyard repairs.

Monday, 20th January. On with the training. I am learning a great deal from Perry about the ships generally and the engines in particular, so I am not wasting my time here. One useful thing I learnt was never to allow any of my hands in the mess deck, which is forward, while at sea in a wind over force four. One hand had been killed by it. He went down there to get something and was thrown to the floor by the bumping, broke his knee, and they found him half an hour later a battered carcass, because once he was incapable he was thrown like a ball all over the place and of course hit his head continuously.

Wednesday, 22nd January. MASB 15 arrived with her new engines. I am now assistant training officer and have to do the training in my boat, Perry going in 15. We had great fun today as we roared down to Oban together doing flotilla manoeuvres by flag hoist. Campbell and I had a pretty tricky time as we had no signal rating with us and it was the first time we had kept formation at high speed. We learnt a lot and enjoyed it. But all the time we are longing to get to 64. It is so irksome not to be able to get down to it yet. We heard today that we, that is the Sixth MGB flotilla, is to be based at the Nore and that we are the last but one boat of the flotilla which is to start forming up in February.

Our trouble is that at present, until they are produced, we have no heavy guns at all, nothing but rapid firing 0.303 weapons. Our job is to hunt E-boats and they have four Bofors guns, being rapid firing two pounders.¹⁷ It is a poor outlook trying to tackle them with such disparity of weapons. We shall have to rely on speed, the dark and the fact that the Hun is not generally very brave in the face of determined attack at sea. I hope we may get better guns before long. It is always the same with England, no weapons until the third year of the war.

Thursday, 23rd January. More training. Today we stripped 0.5s and Lewis guns with Scott who is very good at them and taught us all about it. I was very glad to get this knowledge safely tucked away, because now I can tackle my guns with certainty and see that my gunners keep them well, instead of being led by the nose by them. It is also very interesting work. I am certainly glad of all this training, which we are very largely organising for ourselves.

Friday, 24th January. Campbell and Scott came off and spent the evening aboard and we had great fun, stripping 0.5s and Lewis guns again. I got the record for stripping and putting together the 0.5 lock easily in two and a half minutes. We drank quite a lot of gin and laughed a great deal, as we all have much the same sense of humour, and Scott is really very funny. A very enjoyable evening, the first I hope of many in our tiny wardroom.

Sunday, 26th January. Went for a long walk with Campbell and Scott this afternoon up Glen Nevis. When we got out of the town we did fleet manoeuvres as we walked, giving flag signals by word of mouth as we needed to learn these. Blue, Red and White turns and Orders 1 to 6 being freely given, interspersed with Freddie and King and Formation and Disposition orders. It was great fun and we enjoyed our zig zag progress very much. The few passers by thought we were quite mad and laughed considerably as we turned abruptly and walked into the river only to do a Blue 9 just in time to save us. It may stand us in good stead on a dark and stormy night at forty knots!

Monday, 27th January. Training work again. Campbell is splendid at getting the hands down to things. They don’t like it much after weeks of idleness. How glad I shall be to get away from this bloody training base.

Wednesday, 29th January. Today we went to sea. It was a nice day and we got a few hours of slight bumping when we got out, which gave the troops some idea of what it may be like. I was overjoyed this morning by news from Perry. He went to see Welman to point out that I ought to be down at my boat as there were alterations going on to the engines and I ought to know all about them. Welman said that he was still hoping to keep me. He had been down to R.A.C.F. and had asked for me and Kekewich had said I was wanted for 64. Welman’s attitude was that he had tackled him at the wrong moment and might still be able to wangle keeping me. So luckily Perry tackled him and said he thought it was all wrong that I should be held back, that I was one of the few people really suited to running a Rolls boat and that I would be wasted being kept here on Napiers. Mercifully Welman agreed and promised to send a signal suggesting I go down to stand by my boat and watch the engines. So the prospects of going soon are brighter.

We got back about four after annoying old Chesney in 15 by going a bit faster than he could go flat out, and we were at cruising revs. He wrecks his engines by opening up from the cold. I am most careful, being fond of engines and the result is that we are a lot faster. All the silly young asses out training think it is clever to roar off opening the throttles up wide and suddenly, but the laugh is on the other side when it comes to doing any real hard running with the engines.

When I got in I had to go up and see Welman, who was apparently intending to bottle me because people had been asking not to be trained on my boat, but on 15. I convinced him that if they had been it was because they were made to work on my boat and to do jobs that they didn’t have to do in 15.

I spent the evening in the Aberdonian, the base ship, getting all my CBs and SPs¹⁸ squared up. A.J. Villiers, the famous sailing man who wrote ‘Falmouth for Orders’, etc., was CB officer and I had a most interesting evening with him. Andrew Le Grice sailed with him to America once. He was loud in his praise of Andrew. Everyone always was. Andrew must have been an awfully nice chap to be liked so much wherever he went.

Thursday, 30th January. Perry showed me a signal today saying that 64’s crew were to be at Hythe on Saturday. I’m afraid that does not mean that I will be there as they are sending a signal enquiring who is to relieve me. But it is encouraging.

Friday, 31st January. Campbell and the crew were off today at two forty but needless to say not me. It is very disappointing but at least I see my way to going now.

In the evening I went ashore and gave dinner to Perry and his wife. I like them and I must say I think I owe a lot to Perry. We shall miss young Scott.¹⁹ He is one of the most delightful and amusing young men I have ever come across. To hear him rendering a Petty Officer’s instructions in a Funeral Firing Party drill when slightly intoxicated was one of the funniest things I have ever listened to.

Saturday, 1st February. Said my adieux and caught the bus. It was rather fun seeing the canal and the lochs that I had striven up and down in the boat from the comfortable seat of a bus. It is a lovely run and it was a lovely evening. I have been very lucky in my weather up here, but how glad I am to be rid of that place, with its atmosphere of back biting and trying to keep men up to the pitch without the incentive of real work to help.

We arrived at seven. I got my ticket, applied for a sleeper for the night train on Sunday and then went to the Douglas Hotel, had dinner (I was very hungry) and then a bath and so to bed. I hadn’t had a bath for a week and that and the unwonted comfort of a good bed seemed the height of bliss. Hard living is good for one’s soul, and I certainly have been through a strain lately. And now for 64!