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A Royal Canadian Navy Historical Project An Interview with George Crewe, Telegraphist, RCN People George Knew
© Anne Gafiuk 2013
Website - What's in a story by Anne Gafiuk
George Crewe finished his Royal Canadian Navy tenure as a Leading Telegraphist, leaving the RCN with many memories, not only of his training and experiences on the water, but also of the people he crossed paths with along the way.
“I met all kinds.” There were quite a variety of personalities in the men and women he came into contact with, from cooks to engineers to young WRENs and everyone in-between; civilians and military personnel alike. Here are a few of his most unforgettable people.
“I had a girlfriend for the time I was in Lunenberg for six weeks. In those days in the drugstore, there was a soda fountain where you would go and sit on a stool. I remember going in there and she was serving cold drinks: Cokes, floats....what-have-you....and that is where I met her. We went for quite a few walks. The odd time we would go to a movie. And that was it.
“I didn’t want to get serious with any girl. I didn’t think I was going to come back. Particularly ’41, ’42, ’43. They were pretty hectic years as far as the Navy was concerned. If you met a young lady and got married, you could be gone in another week, leaving her alone. I remember a time when we were out for a good two months – we’d come in every two weeks to get oiled up and sent a signal to get our supplies....and then we’d be out again. This was when they were too short of escorts that you just didn’t get time to turn around. There was a time I didn’t set foot on dry land for two months! The girl at the drugstore and I corresponded a bit, but then it tapered off.
“If I went to a dance, I had two left feet! I just couldn’t dance. If I had a lady friend who wanted to dance, I wasn’t her partner, that’s for sure. Anything to do with music, I am out to lunch. I couldn’t carry a note in a bucket!” George laughs.
“Actually, I never went to
many dances, and any dances I did go to, they were Navy.
The WRENS put it on....and of course, when I was in
George’s affability
allowed him to make new friends on every ship and just about everywhere he
went, but his outgoingness got him into a tense situation with some American
sailors. “I never got into any
fights, per se, but I almost did. When we were
in
“He says, ‘No.’
“ ‘Do you mind if I sit there?’
“ ‘No.’ It turned out he was going to the same dentist. His appointment was ahead of mine.
“As he came out and I went in, I said, ‘Do you want to go for coffee? We’ll have a good half an hour to wait anyway.’
“He said, ‘Okay,’ and he waited.
“Then we got a cup of coffee at the USO at the yards. And we played ping pong. These other American people that were in there were looking at us kind of goofy-like and I says to this chap, ‘What’s going on here? Those guys are looking at us like we were poison or something.’
“He said, ‘Well, I am Black. And you are not supposed to associate with me.’
“ ‘Why not?’
“ ‘Down here, we aren’t popular and you aren’t supposed to fraternize with me. They don’t approve of that.’
“ ‘I guess the only difference between us is I was born in the day time and you were born in the night. I think these guys are looking for trouble.’
“ ‘I think they are.’ He was just a little taller than me. There were four of them.
“I said, ‘Look it! If they come any closer and hassle us, we’ll get up against the wall and you take two and I’ll take two.’
“He says, ‘OK.’
“The guys came closer and I says, ‘I don’t know what your trouble is. You know: I took a Commando Course with the Royal Navy. There are going to be two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the ground.’ That was a bunch of BS...and they backed off and that was that.”
George wishes now he had asked the man for his address. “He was from the Southern States. The Blacks in the US Navy were given terrible jobs....cooks or stewards or that nature. He didn’t tell me what he did, but I think he was a cook by his badge. After, we caught the bus.”
Looking back on the story now, George laments, “I wished I had asked the man for his address.”
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Sadly, heavy alcohol consumption seemed to be pervasive with some of the ship’s personnel. “The first ship I was on, The Quinte, it was a mine sweeper. The cook, about thirty years old: 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 coxswain caught me one day, took me aside and said, ‘What are you doing loaning him money?’ When I explained, he said, ‘Don’t you do that. You’ll never get it back.’ I told him I had been doing it a long time. He always repaid me on payday.”
George ended up benefiting from the cook’s reciprocal kindness for the loans provided. “On the small ships, he was the only cook and if I came off watch and 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.”
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George is particularly proud of the shortbread he bakes and gives to his friends and family over the Christmas season, spawning another tale from his days with the Royal Canadian Navy.
“The last six months of the war, I was on an English
carrier. We were in the huge,
natural harbour at Scapa Flow, pretty well opposite
“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 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?’ and she told me. I said, ‘Fine’, and I went back to the ship.
“I had a bottle of rum. I went to the person who looked after the supplies on the ship and I said, ‘I need some butter.’ (The officers got butter...we got margarine.) ‘I need sugar and flour. I’ll trade you for some rum.’ (We were issued rum: an ounce and a bit every day. You got a gill, that’s it!) I saved it. You were supposed to mix it with water or Coke or something I had a Mickey of rum....13 ounces....so he gave all the ingredients to me in exchange for the rum.
“I tucked
them into my sock 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.” George
asked the woman if he could watch her bake and she refused.
He asked for the recipe and the instructions on how to make
shortbread, to which she agreed – with one condition:
‘You don’t tell anybody.’”
George agreed.
“She showed me everything and when I came out of the Navy, I started making Scottish shortbread which is more like a cookie. 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.” George laughs. Many people have asked him for the recipe, but he has kept his word and not shared with anyone but family.
George regrets he does not remember the woman’s name and did not keep track of her after the war, yet despite knowing her for those two days, he has never forgotten her.
George is very proud of a model ship, finding its place of prominence in his bedroom. “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. 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!” George’s eyes grow as large as a silver dollar.
From their conversation, George discovered the man made them and offered to show him one and 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?”
“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’ll have to make a box for it, so it will have an extra charge.’
“He built me a Bluenose, taking him two or three months. I wouldn’t part with it for $1,000,000!”
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“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.”
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George has been thrilled to share his stories with the readers of The Bulletin, and hopes to read more of others’ tales in upcoming issues.
I have been honoured to record them and bring them to you.
Anne Gafiuk anne@whatsinastory.ca www.whatsinastory.ca |
For
Posterity's Sake 