An Interview with George Crewe, RCN

For Posterity's Sake

A Royal Canadian Navy Historical Project

An Interview with George Crewe, Telegraphist, RCN

World War II Navy Experiences

© Anne Gafiuk 2012

Website - What's in a story by Anne Gafiuk

I’ve never been contacted by magazines or newspapers before for my stories. I’ve never had that before.

There is one thing that has buffaloed me! Why haven’t you gone to the museum in Calgary – the Navy museum? There are guys there. <Nick Guilliano of Fernie referred me to George. I explain to George: “What I find in museums...I struggle with being in military museums. I don’t get the stories in the first person. You have a fresh story!”>

I always attributed the fact to me joining the Navy, I think when I was about ten, I had a book given to me, a little very thin book, it was called My Book on Sailors. I guess it fascinated me. The stories and the pictures fascinated me in the book. I still have the book, but it is down in Baynes Lake . When I moved from there, I bought a shed to put all my stuff in as I wouldn’t have enough room here. I wouldn’t part with that book for $1,000,000. <smile and laughter>

I had no other reason that I can think of – I only saw the ocean once, when my mother, dad and sister went to the coast and we went to Victoria . That was it...I was thirteen or fourteen then. You can’t see you see the ocean there. It is only a short jaunt....you are not even on the ocean, per se. You are always in sight of land and all the islands. It was salt water...that’s it.

After I joined the Navy, in 1940, that is the first time I saw the ocean...in Esquimalt . I signed on with the RCN – the Royal Canadian Navy – I was permanent force. I had to sign on for seven years. I had to because I joined the regular force, not the volunteer reserve. There were two groups: the RCN were permanent. The RCNVR: Royal Canadian Naval Volunteer Reserve...they were the ones that signed on during the war.

I tried to get into the Navy when I was 16. The war was just barely getting going. I went to Calgary to the Recruiting Office. The guy looked at me. I remember!

I told him, “I want to join the Fleet Air Arm.”

He said, “ Canada does not have one.” <air craft carriers> “We just have a Navy.”

I said, “Well, fine, then I will just join the Navy then.”

He said, “I think you better go home and dried behind the ears.” I’ll never forget that! <laughter> I was ready to kill him! I was 16.

I said, “Fine. Give me an application and I will be back.” So the next year, when school was out in June, I already had my application filled out. My mother and sister went out to the coast. My father and I were at home and I talked him into to sign my application because I was underage. And he did. My father was in the First World War. He was British. He didn’t get to excited. It might have been a patriotic thing.

I sent it away and I got a reply in about three weeks. They told me when to report. I went to Calgary. Overnight we stayed in Calgary then went to Esquimalt.

The train was from Lethbridge to Calgary on the main line then through the mountains and then take a boat from Vancouver . On that particular train, there were 50-60 kids that had signed up. It was all arranged by the Dept of National Defence or the War Dept. We picked up kids all the way along. Of course, there were kids on the train from Winnipeg , Medicine Hat . I didn’t know a soul on that train – no, I shouldn’t say that...there were two or three of us from Lethbridge . One was a good friend of mine. The other two I know, but not well. One of them he got to Esquimalt and he didn’t even sign up. He said, “This isn’t for me.” He left within three days. The other two stayed. The one chap was a signal man. I was in the wireless branch. We were on the The Warrior together. That was only time I contacted anybody that I directly knew in the Navy.

I had to make a whole bunch of new friends. It didn’t take long. I make friends wherever I go, even today. It is just my nature, that’s all. It just comes to me naturally to make friends and it pays off.

At that time, being the age that I was, there were a lot of kids down at the station to see us off. I don’t know...it was just another day, as I remember. I didn’t think too much about it.

When I joined, being under 18, I joined as a “Boy Telegraphist”. The discipline in those days....<clock chimes> was unbelievable!

We lived in the barracks, of course. We lived on the one floor. The older kids lived on the second floor. The ‘boys’ were all on one floor. At our age of 17, you had to be in bed at by 9:00 pm every night. You were up at 5:30 am, got washed, dressed in your PT shorts and three days out of the six, we would run three miles one way and three miles back. The other mornings we would do calisthenics. We would have to do everything ‘on the double’. You had to be in bed by 9:00 pm. There was no chit chat. It was quiet. We were taking ‘boot training’, learning how to march. That didn’t bother me much, because in High School, they had Army Cadets, so I knew my left foot from my right! (laughing and smiling). So that didn’t bother me at all.

We started class at 8:00 am. The kit bag was stored in a locker where we could put our clothes in, too. We went to class for an hour. We had divisions, the whole ship’s company – at Esquimalt , on land, the whole barracks, we had to fall in, we had a quick church service and God Save the Queen and then we went back to class until about 10:30 am or so. Then we got a coffee break – stand easy, it was called – that was fifteen minutes. Then to class. Then you went for lunch then back to class until 4:00 pm.

At that time in the Canadian Navy, we followed the Royal Navy routine. At 4:00 pm you went back to the barracks. We had ‘tea’ – cocoa actually and they put, at that time, jam came in a pound tin – and they would put one of those on the table....and at each table there would be ten guys. That would be the table where you ate. You would get bread and jam and cocoa. I’ll tell you – you had to get in there first, if you got in there last, all you saw when you looked was your face reflecting. The guys went through it ‘right now’. The jam was thick. If you were lucky, you got one piece of bread!

After that, you had a free time, BUT you had to go to the PT field to maybe play soccer....choose baseball. It was an organized free time. No lacrosse. Just soccer and baseball. No hockey, no field hockey. I did miss hockey. I loved hockey.

We got a lot of needles. Every time you went overseas. I never bothered to ask what they were for. Maybe malaria when we went to the Tropics.

One of the things and this will shake you to the roots – we got $15/month when we were under 18. But you were not old enough to spend $15. They saved $10. When you turned 18, you received your backpay. So you had $5/month to spend. It worked out. We only got out of barracks once or twice a week, depending upon the watch you were on. There were four watches: Red, Green, Blue and White. If you were off Wed afternoon, it would put you off on the weekend, but if it was the other way around, you would only get one day off on the weekend to go to town.

I learned pretty fast. You had to do all your own washing and ironing. You had to be spic and span. You had two hammocks. One you slept in and the other one was spare. You changed them every two weeks, I believe. You took your clews off – the ropes that hold it up --- and you had to take them off and put them on your other hammock. Anyway, you would wash that hammock, scrub it, clean it. I used to do that for the guys and I would charge them $2.00. (laughing) Then the ironing. I was pretty good at that.

My mother had had an accident with the washing machine. I had to learn how to wash clothes for her. Her hand went up to her elbow before she could press the release. It broke her arm. This is how I learned how to make beds and do washing.

So when I went into the Navy, it was nothing to it. I would iron the dickies and their white shirt, you’d iron those. I would charge two bits....I would only iron the front because who would see the back! (laughing).

When I went to town, I could afford something to eat. There was a dairy in Victoria called the Model Dairy. Milkshake: 10 cents. I’d go. I never learned to drink to excess. When you were a boy, you never went into a pub!

There was always someone who got into trouble. That never interested me.

I don’t think I had more money than others. It didn’t even don on me.

We were issued a kit bag – I still have it, by the way – in Baynes Lake . You get a uniform, two pairs of socks, one pair of boots, your shirt – two of those – one was cotton, heavy and the other was flannel. Then a long sleeved sweater for winter. Then you had your silk that went around your neck. You had to fold it and iron it flat and that went around your neck. It was joined behind your neck. You got a lanyard. And of course, a hat – two hats, as I remember and the hat box and a little ditty bag, a very small suitcase..oh, you had a lot of clothes.

You got $0.15/day to replace anything, like socks.

We got long johns. I think we had to buy our shorts ourselves.

We didn’t have washing machines....we used wash boards. And we washed our own clothes from the time we entered the Navy until the day we left.

The clothes fit pretty good. I don’t know how they did that. A sailor’s uniform is pretty snug. The pants – they do up differently. Pictures: the albums, every picture disappeared...I have a hunch I gave it all to my daughter. <There are some photos in George’s room.> I have a picture of my class and the first ship I was on.

The white hats are the summer hats...summer dress. The dark ones are winter. That was taken in the summer of 1941. This would be in 1942, when we were in Halifax . The one guy, he was quite elderly. He was in charge of the Wireless Branch. The fellow in charge of the Signalmen is not there.

Black shirt under the tunic: winter. White shirt under the tunic: summer.

<We see the lanyard and the black scarf that was folded over.>

I think back in the Navy, they were very strict...more than in the Air Force. As far as I was concerned, the Air Force Personnel were a bunch of wimps. They had a bed to sleep in every night and sheets.

We were issued our hammock...and a mattress...filled with kapok – rope shredded – and then you got two blankets. They were really good blankets, like Hudson’s Bay Blankets with out the stripes. Our’s were cream coloured with a black stripe on the end. No pillow.

We got to Victoria on a Sunday morning. They herded us into these transport trucks out to the Naval Barracks...and we had breakfast. On Sunday we called the breakfast Red Leaded Bacon: bacon and stewed tomatoes and toast and coffee. That was our first breakfast.

Breakfast: Monday to Saturday: porridge. I think was pretty much standard. You’d get fruits and vegetables in the other meals. Some people complained but I didn’t mind the food.

We had divisions where everybody had to go out on the parade square. We were still in our civilian clothes...all of us cowboys and what have you....and then, I’ll never forget, they issued us our hammocks. In those days, the Navy slept in hammocks, PERIOD. When you joined the Navy, the only time I slept in a bunk was went I went on course in St. Hyacinthe , in Quebec. Even in a building.

You slept right above the mess tables. It was difficult at first. They are about 4-6 feet off the ground. It was a real panic the first night. We had fellas help us the first couple of nights to get them slung...when you got into them...they are not like the ones in someone’s back yard these days.....the clews, the ropes – when you got in, they kind of folded around you...pretty soon, you learned.. you got two sticks, 17” wide – for space because of the guy next to you. The stick hold it apart and you would have one at your head and one at your feet and they would stay with the hammock. I got my dad to make me some. I told him exactly what I needed. He notched them so that the outside clews would fit in and that was that. Other guys did the same thing, I guess. Some might have used dowels. Some didn’t do it at all.

When you got up in the morning: you latched your hammock. You had to fold your blankets and put them in and then you had a long rope. You latched your hammock. You had to have seven turns, wrapped. That was for the seven seas....that was the story. That was it! That was the law. And if you didn’t, you would have to do it over again.

They had posts and a long pipe going all the way across the building and we were slung side by side. It was a mass of hammocks.

Even when you went to the sea, you had the same thing. To get us used to it. That is what sailors sleep in.

At sea, we slept above our mess tables, too. It was our total living area.

The first ship I was on, it was a mine sweeper. There would be roughly 80 people on the ship.

The next hammock was right next to mine...almost touching. When the hammocks swung, the others would, too.

There was room for three hammocks in the room (clock chimes again). If you went on watch at midnight, you would remove it and take it down, latched it. You had a place to store it – a kind of a compound about 6 foot square and you could put your hammock in lengthwise and the other fellow would take his out and put it up and take your space.

I didn’t get a feeling of claustrophobia. You did not have any personal space on board ship. The only time alone that I would have was when I would be on watch in the wireless room. And on the smaller ships, there was only one guy on call at a time. The decoder in another little cubby hole, but half the time, if he wasn’t required, he wouldn’t be there.

It was just something to get used to. I never thought much about it. I would say of the seven years that I was in the Navy, almost five were at sea. I had one ship that I had a bunk on and that was on the Admiral’s yacht. There were only five of us on the ship. It was luxury for me.

I didn’t like school....before I joined the Navy, I had an interest in radio. It just fascinated me, the Navy. That is why I joined as a Boy Telegraphist. I told them that is what I wanted. In those days, they agreed to that, for some reason. That doesn’t happen these days.

I found learning Morse Code very difficult. Everybody that has to take Morse Code finds it difficult. I remember going into town to Victoria from Esquimalt , taking the streetcar and you know they had the advertisements up there, I would sit there and read them for practice. I’d practice that. I did alright. I managed to pass.

The first six weeks was basic training, then we went into our classes and we lasted about eight months. It takes that long. When you start receiving Morse Code, you don’t get a second chance. By the time you finished the class, you were very fluent in sending and receiving.

If you were in the RCN, you got that training there, whereas you went as a Volunteer Reserve, you only got two or three months.

After my course was over, I was the first guy out of our twelve in the wireless operators....the maximum could have been 15 in a class...but in our class there were twelve....there are two of us left (alive). (None of us died in action.) After we left – finished our course, I was the first guy drafted to a ship. The other guys were envious. I don’t know how I got drafted first. My marks were not the best, I know that!

They were really jealous. I don’t know how I got picked out first. I knew I was the first one drafted, but I was slated to go to Ottawa as a Wireless Operator ....receiving and transmitting messages to wherever and from Ottawa . I found this out when I got my records! (I got them a couple of years ago.) I am so glad I didn’t get that. Somehow, they drafted me to this ship....they sent a signal to Ottawa and said, “He’s already been selected. Sorry.”

I was on the mine sweeper for about seventeen months. From the mine sweeper, I went to the barracks and was there for a couple of weeks....and then to the Royal Naval Destroyer. I would go to the Drafting Office every day. I asked them, “Have you got a draft for me?” I think I got on their nerves. One day he says, “I’ve got a draft for you. Pack your gear. Be ready in ten minutes.” “Ha! It’s already packed.” And it was. I just left it in my kit bag in my locker. “The truck will pick you up on Jetty Three...here are your draft orders.” In Halifax . I knew it was a destroyer because Jetty Three is where they are tied up. I thought, “Oh, that would be alright.” Then there was this goddarned Royal Navy...what have I done to deserve this?” I was on that for about four or five months. Then we went into Boston for repairs and there were five of us Canadians and took us off and we were shipped back to Halifax.

We then went to Newpoint Corner...a shore station....it was just being built – between Halifax and Windsor. It was a powerful station. I was there for four or five months. I was sent on course then back to Halifax.

I got back to Lethbridge four or five times. When I was in Boston , they gave everyone five days leave. I can remember telling the Signal Officer. “Home? Do you know how long it would take me to get home? Four and a half!” He wouldn’t believe me. He said, “You bring me proof and I’ll see what I can do.” I went to the station and he was really good. He wrote out the itinerary. He could only get me as far as Medicine Hat . I told him, “Hey, you get me to Medicine Hat , and I will worry about the rest.”

So I took the thing back to the ship and it was as they said, four and a half to five days. He said, “I can’t believe this.” I said, “Well, there it is.” So he gave me 14 days. I left Boston , went to Chicago , had a layover to catch the train to St. Paul . From there I caught the CP, maybe Weyburn , Saskatchewan . I had a dollar and a quarter in my pocket. I wasn’t getting any extra income. When the train stopped, I would go into the station and usually there was a USO – the Americans had a pretty good set-up – in the station, I got coffee and doughnuts. But from St. Paul to Weyburn, things were pretty scarce. I was hungry as an old bear! So I spent my buck and a quarter. I got to Medicine Hat . Luckily, one of the guys in our class lived in Medicine Hat and I met them in Victoria . It was night. I phoned them and I stayed there over night. In the morning, the fella took me out the outskirts of Medicine Hat and I would hitch hike a ride. I was in uniform. No problem A car stopped. It was a fella, his wife and daughter, they had been at a funeral, from the States. So being in uniform, of course. He said, “Where are you going?” I told him. In the conversation, he told me he was getting low on gas. He needed coupons and he wouldn’t have any. So I said, “You get me to Lethbridge and I’ll get you some gas.” He got me to Lethbridge and we got to my dad’s house. My dad had a 45 gallon drum full of gas and he filled up the fellas tank. My mom served them a cup of tea. I stayed for about five days.

We got respect in our uniforms.

Then I got drafted back to Halifax, we were supposed to go to the Med on that ship but they took us back to Halifax.

I saw New York Harbour.

We were on the triangle run. We worked out of Halifax or Sydney or St. John’s, Newfoundland. We would go part way across with a convoy, drop it because of the escort from the other side. We would meet a convoy heading west and take them into Boston, New York or Halifax. Sometimes we would be three or four days --- other times we would just oil up and get supplies sent over and head out with another convoy.

In 1942, they were so short of ships, in particular. And they just kept us going.

You were not more than 200-300 yards between ships. They liked to have at least five escort vessels or six...one at the head of the convoy, one on the starboard side, one on the port side at the front and the back, and one trailing. Almost like a diamond...,,between 30 – 50 ships in the ‘box’. None collided, but at night, they had a very dim running light. So they would turn that on...the only light. In the fog, it was deadly. If the fog came up, in the morning, there would be no ships in sight. The merchant ships were panicky...they were big ships. <like the shepherd looking for lost sheep>

Some we never got. We couldn’t keep looking for them as you had to get the convoy through.

We could not send messages. No! No. The only message you could send unless it was a distress signal was when you were coming into harbour. Your ETA and tell them you would be at Gates of Halifax at such and such an hour and you had to be there, as they were expecting you. You had to identify yourself when you came in. Then they would open the gates. They were like a mesh fence and they would open it up and you would come in and then they would close it again. It wasn’t wide open. The gates went right at the narrowest point so they could control it pretty good. There was a vessel on each side that had a winch on it and then it floated and they would pull it. The boats were anchored. The winch did the work.

At Scapa Flow , U boats got in there and sunk a few ships. Canada did not have submarines and when they got them, I think you would have to volunteer. There were two things that I would never volunteer for and that was a submarine and going down in a mine! I don’t mind floating on the water and going down, but I sure hate to be down there and not get out. A mine: you are down there again...and if there is a cave in, you can’t get out.

Seasick: I ate very well in the Navy. Three down and three up! <laughter> It was deadly when I first went to sea. I never gave it a thought when I was ten years old. My first bout of seasickness was about two hours after we left Esquimalt . On the Quinte...up to Prince Rupert ...on a shake down. The ship was brand new. It was a test run to make sure everything is working. It is a bad spot because it is quite shallow on outside of the island. The waves are just continuous. I can remember I was on the very first watch. I was in a room without windows. I could feel the ship. I had a cardboard box sitting alongside me – boy did I ever use that!

I was sick for three or four months after that. There was another chap – he was a fisherman from Newfoundland . It was a toss up to see who would get sick first! You just get used to it.

When went through the Panama Canal from Esquimalt up to Halifax ...I went through it twice...it was exciting....the States wasn’t even in the war when I went one way...and then I came back through at the end of 1946.

Money: When you turn 18, you get $37.50. I used to send some home to my mother and I would spend the rest. I think what they did is took the money I sent home, they saved it. I had a bank account in those days. I used to have my money at the Canadian Post Office...and that worked if you were in Canada . But in the States, forget it! I had no American money on that leave...I lived on the coffee and doughnuts.

I was the youngest guy on board the first ship. The other two – there were three of us on watch – and the chap in charge. When we first started, I always got the dirty end of the stick. They said, “You have more training than us!” It didn’t bother me....I stood it for three or four months, then I said, “Hey, we have to start doing things the way they should be done.” The guy that was in charge, he went along with me. I made out alright.

The first ship I was on, that mine sweeper, the cook, he was an alcoholic. You won’t believe this. I got along with everybody, as far as I was concerned. And he would, the odd time, come to me and say, “Can you lend me five bucks?” And I said, “Oh, yeah.” The coxman <someone in charge of the boat> on the ship caught me one day, took me aside and said, “What are you doing loaning him money?” “He wanted the $5.00. He was broke.” He said, “Don’t you do that. You’ll never get it back.” “I’ve been doing it a long time. He always gives it to me on payday.

(clock chimes)

On the small ships, he was the only cook and if you came off watch and you missed a meal. He said to me, “What do you want?” instead of this is what you get. I would get pork chops or a steak. I would eat better the odd time than the other guys. The food was pretty good.

We had been out on convoy in 1941, I guess. We came in on Christmas Eve. In Halifax , the liquor stores all closed at 6 pm. He went ‘bizonk’. He wasn’t older than 30. He went up onto the bridge....and he drank the alcohol out of the compass! He was desparate. The next morning: He could see pink elephants and that. He was hallucinating. I can remember our Christmas dinner was -- I will never forget it...we had bully beef...the little cans you’d get canned beef in! They managed to get potatoes...and another guy had to make it. The Captain put the cook in a cell and he was charged. They kicked him off the ship in Halifax . He might have gone somewhere else, but he was done on that ship.

We got another cook on there. He had cooked at the Chateau Laurier in Ottawa . Boy, did we get fancy meals. If we had supplies and it was appropriate...we were in Lunenburg for a refit. He would take a ham and put honey and dice it....we thought we were living the life of a king when he was on board.

The British Cooks.....when I was on this ship – the air craft carrier – it was a baby carrier – it was only very small – not like the ones they had to land the larger planes on – they use these ones for escort work. They would be in a convoy. They carried two planes that were more or less fighter planes and the rest were......when I was on that ship, the meals on that ship were God-awful. You walked up with your tray, they’d put your meat on....and they had heart, one day. It wasn’t sliced or anything. He gave me the whole heart and the rest of the potatoes. I looked at it and said, “You know what you can do with that!” I handed it back and forgot about it; and I didn’t eat that day. As far as I was concerned, they were terrible cooks.

There was a superstition: you do not put your Navy hat upside down and put it on the bed. Not on the mess table, I don’t know...but definitely not on the bed!

Friday the 13^th, black cats, don’t go under a ladder – I’ve always believed that....our captain on board our ship...if we came in on a Friday, he would talk his way out of it. We would never sail on a Friday...he was always superstitious about that.

You know the canned milk? If you opened a can upside down, someone would take it and throw it overboard. It was bad luck. I don’t know the history about it, really.

The only thing I make is shortbread. That is another Navy story. The last six months of the war, I was on the carrier – it was an English carrier. I was supposedly sent over there to get carrier training....I would be going to go on a Canadian carrier. I thought that was where I was going. It was Scapa Flow...as far north in England or Scotland as you can go....pretty well opposite Norway . We were on the Murmansk run with escort and when we were in harbour at Scapa Flow ...there was nothing there. It was the most desolate place. It was a huge harbour...a natural harbour. It was the main spot for the British Fleet.

I did a lot of hiking – any place I was in, I would walk. I was out walking one day and I happened to go by this place and there was this man and lady standing out in front of it and I got to talking to them. They invited me in and things were rationed and but they gave me a cup of tea. Somehow we got talking about things being rationed and what have you and she said how she would love to get something to make shortbread. I says, “Oh, what do you need?” She says, “I need butter, I need sugar and I need flour.” I says, “How much?” She told me. I said, “Fine.” I didn’t say a word. I went back to the ship. I had a bottle of rum. I went to the fellow that looked after the supplies on the ship...and I said, “I need some butter” – the officers got butter...we got margarine or anything at all. “I need sugar and flour. I’ll trade you for some rum” You get issued rum: an ounce and a bit every day. You got a gill, that’s it!. <A gill is a unit of measurement for volume equal to a quarter of a pint. It is no longer in common use, except in regard to the volume of alcoholic spirits.> It’s a little bit more than two ounces....I saved it. You were supposed to mix it with water or coke or something. I got away with it somehow....don’t ask me how....I won’t tell you. I had a mickey of rum....13 ounces....so he gave it all to me. I tucked them into my sock down here and with bell bottom trousers, they didn’t show. So I got them ashore and I took them to her. She thought she had died and gone to Heaven! She made the shortbread. I says, “Oh, I am going to watch you. Do you mind?” And she said, “No.” I says, “Can you give me the recipe and directions on how to do it?” “Yes, I will, but on one condition.” “What’s that?” “That you don’t tell anybody.” “It’s a deal.” She showed me everything and when I came out of the Navy, I started making shortbread. It is a Scottish shortbread, more like a cookie. It is more like a cookie. I make it at Christmastime. I told my wife and when she died, I told my daughter and then I showed my granddaughter how to make it and I swore them to secrecy. <laughter> I’ve had people ask me for the recipe and I say, “No, you’re not getting it.” I don’t remember the woman’s name. I didn’t keep track of her after the war. I met her the one day, again the second day. That’s it.

I was very foolish in those days. There were a lot of people I should have kept in contact with. Just for that reason...I met so many people and I didn’t – and I’ve been sorry ever since.

<George brings out his shortbread and offers me three pieces...it was very good!> Every year, I give eight of ten pieces to the people here. I give some to my friends. They want the recipe. But I say, “Sorry.” Elleda’s boss at Sears is begging for the recipe....but she says, “Sorry.”

When we were in Lunenburg for six weeks, for refit, there were only six of us onboard. I was the guy designated to go for the mail everyday. I would always take the same route. I used to walk past this one house. Invariably, there was a guy standing out front. Same guy. So one day I stopped and started to talk to him and he invited me in for some tea or coffee. When we got in there, he had models of the Bluenose and my eyes went like this!

I said, “Gee, where did you get those?”

He said, “I make them.”

Come, I will show you one. “Oh,” I said, “I sure would love one of those. If I come out of this alive and write you a letter, will you make me one?”

“Sure!”

So when I got settled at home in 1948, I wrote him a letter and he wrote back. He said, “I’ll make you a boat and it will cost you $25.”

I said, “Fine. What about the shipping?”

He says, “I’ll have to make a box for it, so it will have an extra charge.”

“You just tell me and I will send you the money.”

And he did. It took him about two or three months. <I take photos of the model of the Bluenose that is in George’s bedroom.>

I wouldn’t part with it for $1,000,000!

<Hanging on George’s bureau’s mirror is a pendant.>

I call it my good luck charm. I got it from an Indian in Lethbridge when I was a kid. I kept it with me all my Navy years. I think that is what saved my life! I’ve kept it all these years.

The only thing that ever happened to me is we were in a storm and I happened to go out on deck. The depth charge had got loose and there were a couple of guys wrestling with it and I went to help them. I slipped and broke my collar bone. It rolled over my toes...I have two toes that don’t move – they were crushed. And I broke a tooth. We were at sea...we didn’t get in for another two or three weeks....I didn’t even go to sick bay. We didn’t have an attendant or medic on board. They didn’t do anything. I didn’t hear it. I remember falling and slipping and hitting my tooth on the bollard. And I hurt my back.

I can tell you another story of a funny break....I got lots of breaks....as far as not being lost or anything like that....the one....I was aboard The Quinte....we just finished a refit and we were going from Lunenburg to Picton to get some equipment on board. They were installing at Picton. This was in the end of 1942 and when we left Lunenburg, I was on the radio. The captain said, “I’ve got to send a message.” I said, “Well that’s fine.” The message read: “The forecast was for a big storm. We have not got enough oil if we run into trouble. Request permission to come into Halifax and oil up.” They sent the message back. “Sorry. You’ve got to keep going.” We kept going. We got off Cape Breton Island ....roughly to St. Peter’s and the canal is there and we ran out of oil. We got pushed up against the rocks. Punched a hole in...and we just finished refit......<George pauses....for a minute or so....and apologizes, tearfully, before composing himself then continues>

Anyway, we ran out of oil and luckily...... there was another tug and two barges in the same area.

Except the tug couldn’t control the barges and they got pushed up on the shore, and the tug, too, and we did, too. Anyway, we got in. We managed to get safely and got everybody off. The captain and I were the last two to get off. When I sent the signal and I tried to raise Halifax . There is something called the ‘skip distance’. It has something to do with the atmospherics. And the only station I contacted – and it might be hard to believe – but it was Simonstown, South Africa!

They picked up my signal and gave me a receipt and they transferred it to Gibraltar, to London to Halifax . And I had a reply back within half an hour. Anyway, we got off and we stayed with the ship for two or three days and we went back to Halifax by train from St. Peter’s. When we got back to Halifax , the ship’s company was sent this way and that way and every way. I never saw anyone afterwards. You are in different branches. It wasn’t that they didn’t want us talking about it. You were lucky if you met up with the same people twice.

And then about a week later, they had an inquiry. I was in on the inquiry because I was the operator. When I went in there, they asked me exactly what happened. I told them, “If we got permission from COC – Commanding Officer of Landing Coast and let us come in for oil, we would have been fine.” Boy, they tossed me out of that investigation just like that. I don’t think I was in there more than five or ten minutes.

Now let’s jump ahead four or five years: I am on The Warrior. Admiral Wingate was one of the big wigs in Halifax at the time of the inquiry. He was coming along inspecting us. And he stopped in front of me and he said, “Your face looks familiar.” I said, “Yes sir. You were involved in an inquiry. You did not partake. You were just an observer, I believe.” I told him of the instance. He said, “I remember that.” About two days later, there was a signal comes aboard The Warrior. I was drafted off The Warrior and I went into Naden where personnel were and another day or so, I was drafted onto his yacht.

I didn’t know this is how I got onto his yacht.....I was just ready to be discharged....about a month to go. He came down to the wireless room and said, “I just want to say good-bye to you.” I wasn’t scared to talk to anybody. “Sir,” I said. “There is something I’d like to know. Why am I on your yacht? Everyone on here is either a Petty Officer or a Chief Petty Officer and I am a Leading Tel....everybody is a higher rank.” He said, “I’ll tell you. I remember on your conversation on The Warrior and it made me think back to the time you were on The Quinte. I admired your thoughts on that. And not scared to say what you think. I thought you’d be a good guy for my crew.” I was there for about six months at least. That was the only time he came to talk to me – this son of a gun...he had a rotten Siamese cat....when we went to sea, when he wanted to go fishing or go out on an inspection somewhere....he would come out on the jette, he’d have this doggone cat sitting on his shoulder, and come to the top of the gangway – he’d holler down, “Sparks, come get my cat!” And I would have to take this rotten cat down into the wireless room and it would stay in there with me. The radio was right in front of me on a desk and the cat would sit on top of it because it was warm because of the tubes, glaring at me like, “I dare you,” like he’d know what I was thinking! And often I would pick that son of a gun up and throw him on the floor. <laughing>

The Quinte sunk finally – they raised it because it was in shallow water and repaired it. It never partook in the war again. It was at a training base in Cornwallis as a training ship. I don’t know where it went after the war...sold for scrap. No loss of life. I don’t know what happened to the tug and the barges.

The Quinte was my love as far as the ships were concerned. It was named after the Bay of Quinte in Belleville , I believe. <The name "Quinte" is derived from "Kente", which was the name of an early French Catholic mission located on the south shore of what is now Prince Edward County.>

I wrote to my dad quite often. He wrote me regularly. And yet he wasn’t that kind of a guy, though. I don’t know what ever happened to his letters or my letters. They may have gotten lost in the flood in the basement in Lethbridge . I don’t have any.

The photographs, in the Navy, you were technically not allowed to have a camera. That would be in all arms of the Forces. Our letters were censored. I think they all were, especially when you were on ship...and in Halifax . It was a major port during the War and it was loaded with spies...it had to be. Vancouver and Victoria, too. I remember on board on ship, the Quinte. I remember the captain and them talking to the ships’ crew. They said, “Look it! Don’t disclose anything as to when we are sailing, where we are going, or anything of that nature.” If you were downtown and got talking to a buddy who might be on another ship, you wouldn’t say, “See you next week, or something.” You didn’t know who was listening and they might start gathering information when a convoy was leaving, but even a blind man would know in Halifax ! You had to sail through the whole harbour to get out. They were very strict about that.

Back to censoring: if you were out for two weeks, take on board a ship, if you wrote letters, as the case might be, if you wrote a letter today, the letters were taken ashore and mailed...they would be taken ashore when you hit port. They had a week to censor them...an officer. I assume that is how they did it, but I am not sure.

My mom did not write....she never wrote. My dad did. My sister wrote the odd time. I had girlfriends, well, yes and no....no one I was serious about.

For casualties: Army first, then Air Force then Navy. When I joined the Navy I didn’t think I’d come back. If the ship got torpedoed, I mean, you were lucky if you survived – a maximum of 10 minutes in the North Atlantic . Lots of times.....they never got a chancel The people down below didn’t have a chance to get into the lifeboats or onto a cargo floe.

I did get scared. Every night, we got a Sub Report. It came from Halifax . It was picked up by a station in Ottawa who monitored German frequencies. They were usually women, by the way....the WRNS...they intercepted the messages and then passed them to an outfit in London called Belchley House where the Code Breakers broke it down. After they captured one German ship, and they managed to get all the codes, then they were able to break the codes just like that. Every night, the Germans had to send their reports in every day – Intelligence knew this – and the codes would be broken and they would pin point where the subs were and every night we would get a position report. And you would think, “Holy Cow! We are surrounded.” But they might have been miles and miles away. That’s how you knew what was going on. Being in the Wireless Branch, you just passed it on. You never told anyone. It went to the Captain and then to the Executive Officer, and then if there was any action to take, with the whole convoy, the Commodore of the Convoy would change course what have you, if necessary. You never, at least I never told anyone, anything.

On board the sweeper, it wasn’t lax. We had a really good crew. Particularly in the winter time, the fellas on the bridge, they would stand watch for maybe twenty minutes or half an hour. It was cold...and they would take a break. The gangway or ladder was at the bottom near the Wireless Room. They would come in for a cigarette or a coffee....they weren’t supposed to. But on a small ship, they would get away with it. One guy was always bugging me. He’d pop his head in the door. He’d always say, “What’s doin’ today, Sparks?” “Oh, not a thing. It’s pretty quiet.” So this one day, I thought I would fix him. I wrote out a signal and made it look official and laid it on my desk so he could see when he opened the door. We were to proceed to Newport , somewhere down the east coast of the US ...pick up some supplies for tropics and head down to Bermuda for six weeks. <laughter> I left it at that. I watched him and his eyes went about this big! He closes the door and about fifteen minutes later, I get a call from the Bridge from the Officer on watch.... “Hey Sparks , where is that signal about us going to Newport to get supplies?” <more laughter> “I don’t know anything about a signal.” The rumour had gotten around the ship that fast! <laugh> At the end of the watch, the Signal Officer said, “What’s going on?” I knew I had been caught. So I told him, “Well, Red is always coming down to ask me what was going on.” He said, “Please don’t do that again!” <laugh>

Sparks was a name given to anyone who operated a radio. I think on every ship. Sparks on account of the hand key used. Years ago, the transmitter was known as a Spark Transmitter. Maybe that is where it came from.

I had another nickname. When I was going to classes, they called me Crickets. I was always chirping or something! I went with that name as long as I can remember in the Navy. One chap who worked in Lethbridge in our class that worked for International Harvester, I was still known by him as Cricket. He’s passed away now.

I didn’t serve that much time in the Pacific.

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When we lived in Lethbridge , we went on holidays. They were excavating in the alley, ready to pave it or something and then a terrific rainstorm and of course, where they were excavating, it filled up and the water went down and into our basement, it got into the trunk where I had all my Navy stuff. Everything got wet. When we got home two weeks later, it was mildewed and I almost cried. I saved my book, my kit bag and my hammock....

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I don’t know why. I did alright. Mind you, some of the guys got up to Petty Officer. I didn’t make that. I would have stayed in the Navy after the seven years were up. I went in front of the Signal Officer in Esquimalt in the latter part of 1947, the way they were cutting back, he said, “I don’t think you have a chance for advancement for fifteen years.” I told him I had more ambition than that. So I did not re-enlist. BUT: a few years later, when the Korean War started, I wrote a letter, but I did not get a reply. I should have gone back in. At that time, you only had to put in 21 or 25 years before you get a pension. I would have been pensioned off at 45 of 50. Maybe I should have gone back in, but it didn’t turn out that way.

I haven’t shared many stories with my daughter. You will find out more....I have never really talked about it much with anybody...but in the last few years, as I have gotten older, I have talked to people about things that happened.

I wouldn’t admit it I knew the Air Force guy! <laughter as George answers his granddaughter, Elleda’s question about the biography I am working on for Gordon Jones in High River , Alberta >

The Bulletin: I belong to an organization in Esquimalt that is called Chief Petty Officer’s Association. It is nothing but Navy Personnel. There are a few of us still left from WWII, the Korean War and the later ones are now starting to retire. They put out the bulletin once a month. They have a story an odd time. I don’t know if I would want a story put into it.

I get the magazine The Legion, every month. I like it. I belong to The Legion. I might consider an article in that, if it was interesting.

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