My WW-II
Civilian Technical Corps
and
U.S. Merchant Marine
Experiences
by
James S. Farrior
H M Ki ng Geo rg e V I rev ie wi ng m em b er s o f
the Civ il ia n Te ch ni c a l Co rp s a t th e Pa vi lio n, Bo u r nem o ut h, H a m p sh i re, E ng la nd ,
Octo b er 2 3 , 1 9 4 1 . Th e a ut ho r wa s i n t h is
g ro up .(P ho to b y n e w sp a p er p ho to g ra p he r)
The S. S. J er im ia h O’ B r ien i s th e o n ly r em a ini ng - s ea wo r t hy L ib e rt y S h ip o f 2 ,7 5 1
b ui lt. S he i s sho w n i n t he E ng l i sh C ha nnel d u r ing t he D - Da y C eleb ra t io n i n 1 9 9 4 .
(Pho to f ro m the Web )
Copyright notice (2004): Except where other credit is given, the text and illustrat ions pertaining to
Part I of this book are jointly copyrighted by James S. Farrior and Alan Cleary, except where other
credit is given. The remaining pages and illustrations are copyrighted by James S. Farrior, e xcept
where other credit is given.
This version is suitable for printing or for viewing on the computer screen.
File name: ww-ii.experiences.24june05.doc
3
#138
Frontispiece -- This nostalgic photo of Big Ben was taken by the late Harry Kroll,
CTC #536, on one of his visits to London, probab ly in the Summ er of1942. The author
has viewed Big Ben from this spot num erous tim es. This photo is presented by the kind
perm ission of Ha rry’s widow, Nelle Kroll, of Knoxville, Tennessee.
Copyright information:
Only a relatively small number of printed copies of this book will be distributed by me. However, I
intend to make the WORD file available on Compact Disk, and as an e-mail attachment. Permission is granted to interested persons to distribute on a not-for-profit basis copies of the CD, or the WORD file, provided
that no alterations, omissions, or additions, of any kind are made to the CD or to the WORD file. Any other
reproduction and distribution, in part or in whole, of the material is prohibited, unless specifically approved
by myself or by Mr. Alan Cleary, the joint copyright holders. Mr. Cleary’s copyright pertains only to Manx
portion of Part I of this book.
James S. Farrior
January 11, 2004
4
My WW-II Civilian Technical Corps
and
U.S. Merchant Marine Experiences
Table of Contents
Introduction ..................................................................................................................... 1
Part I -- My WW-II Civilian Technical Corps Experiences................................. 2
Setting the Stage .............................................................................................................. 2
I learn about the Civilian Technical Corps ........................................................................ 2
My last visit to my hometown before leaving Atlanta ........................................................ 4
Application accepted! ..................................................................................................... 10
The first diary entry ....................................................................................................... 11
Departure for Montreal, Canada ...................................................................................... 13
Arrival at Montreal ......................................................................................................... 14
#1 "Y" Depot, Halifax, Nova Scotia ................................................................................ 17
Aboard the HMTS Andes ................................................................................................ 18
Arrival at Liverpool, England ........................................................................................ 21
Train trip from Liverpool to Bournemouth, Hants. ......................................................... 22
The King and Queen! ..................................................................................................... 23
We arrive at the Radiolocation School in Cranwell, Lincs. .............................................. 25
The King again! ............................................................................................................. 30
A visit to London .......................................................................................................... 31
Japan attacks Pearl Harbor! ............................................................................................ 39
Another visit to London ................................................................................................. 45
We receive our final grades and postings! ....................................................................... 48
Yet another visit to London ............................................................................................ 49
Arrival at Scarlett Point, Castletown, Isle of Man ............................................................ 50
Scarlett Point RAF Camp ................................................................................................ 51
Upon This Bloody Island! ............................................................................................... 61
A Trip to CTC Headquarters in Bournemouth for an inte rview ........................................ 92
American Independence Day! ....................................................................................... 101
A trip to Wing Headquarters in Liverpool for an interview ........................................... 106
A trip to Bournemouth for expected posting .................................................................. 116
Bless Them All, An Airman Who Was Far, Far, Away, I’ve Got Sixpence. ................... 108
George, Jack and I move to Merton Croft! .................................................................... 125
Popular Sheet Music ..................................................................................................... 152
Odd Ode....................................................................................................................... 157
George Fulton and I go to London to check out opportun ities ........................................ 180
We decide to join the Merchant Marine ......................................................................... 181
(Continued on next page)
5
Table of Contents
(Continued - 2)
We leave the I.O.M. for London to join the U.S. Merchant M arine ................................
Discharged from the CTC .............................................................................................
What became of George Fulton, Jack Boor, and Harold Wright? ....................................
Post-War Letters from the Isle of Man ..........................................................................
185
186
187
190
Part II -- My WW-II Merchant Marine Experiences ............................ 198
The U.S. Merchant Seamen’s Club, Glasgow, Scotland ................................................. 198
I join the S.S. John Chandler as Radio Officer .............................................................. 203
First voyage (return leg) of the S. S. John Chandler (Hull, Eng. to New York) ............... 208
Back in the U.S.A......................................................................................................... 213
A visit to my home and family in Letohatchie, Alabama ................................................ 216
I return to New York to make ready for my next voyage ................................................ 221
Second voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (N.Y. to Southampton, England ..................... 224
Trip to London from Southampton ........................................................................... 226
Third voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (New York to Bône, Algeria) ........................... 229
Max Stirn and I hitchhike to Tunis from Bône, Algeria ................................................. 233
Visit to the Basilica of St. Augustine and Roman ruins of Hippone near Bône ................ 238
A trip home in January 1944. -- The locomotive explosion at Letohatchie ...................... 241
Fourth voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (Norfolk, Va. to Bosto n) ................................ 243
Fifth voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (Boston to Hull, Eng.) ....................................... 243
A visit to London from Hull, England ........................................................................... 244
A visit to Montgomery -- I see Guy Coleman at the Union Station ................................. 245
Sixth Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (to Newport, Mo nmouthshire) .......................... 246
A visit to the ruins of the ancient Tintern Abbey in Monmouthshire .............................. 246
We receive news of the D Day invasion of France ........................................................ 248
A vist home to Montgomery -- News of Guy Coleman’s death received ......................... 248
Seventh Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (N.Y. to Ancona, Italy) ............................... 248
Arrival at Ancona -- A visit to the front ........................................................................ 251
Instead of going home, we are redirected to go to Cuba. ............................................... 252
An experience to remember in Cuba .............................................................................. 253
An enjoyable visit home prior to going to the Pacific War Theater ................................ 255
First voyage on the S.S. Anthony Ravalli (New Orleans to Philippines, Australia
New Caledonia, and return to Tacoma, Wash.) . 256
I cross the Equator for the first time -- Member of the “Ancient Order of the Deep” ..... 256
We arrive at our destination, San Jose, Mindora, Philippine Islands ............................... 257
I become ill with malaria .............................................................................................. 257
A reconnaissance patrol in a B-24 ................................................................................. 258
A chance meeting with Booley Rogers of Letohatchie ................................................... 259
A typhoon in the Coral Sea! ......................................................................................... 259
Arrival at Port Kembla, New South Wales, Australia ..................................................... 260
Arrival at New Castle, New South Wales, Australia ...................................................... 260
Arrival at New Caledonia ............................................................................................. 260
(Continued on next page)
6
Table of Contents
(Continued - 3)
We sail for the U.S.A. .................................................................................................. 262
2nd & last voyage of S.S. Anthony Revalli (Tacoma to Okinawa to Los Angeles) .......... 262
We hear the news of the first atomic bomb that had been dropped on Hiroshima ............ 263
Arrival at Ulithi Atoll ................................................................................................... 263
Arrival at Buckner Bay, Okinawa ................................................................................. 264
A very bad typhoon at Okinawa .................................................................................... 264
A visit to see my uncle, Col. Hundley Thompson, Provost Marshall of Okinawa ............ 265
A visit from my cousin Miller Krebs ............................................................................. 268
A second far more devastating typhoon at Okinawa ....................................................... 268
We sail for home! ......................................................................................................... 270
Arrival at San Pedro, California .................................................................................... 270
A paid vacation ............................................................................................................ 271
I become unemployed ................................................................................................... 272
A list of my voyages while in the Merchant Marine ....................................................... 272
What happened to the S.S. John Chandler and the S.S. Anthony Revalli? ...................... 272
..........................................................................................................................................
Part III -- A Brief Account of Life after the War ............................................. 273
..........................................................................................................................................
My arrival home .......................................................................................................... 273
I enter the Alabama Polytechnic Institute (API) ........................................................... 274
Peggy and I are married. .............................................................................................. 277
Melvin Sanderson, my stepfather, dies .......................................................................... 278
Our daughter Sue is born .............................................................................................. 278
I graduate from The Alabama Polytechnic Institute at Auburn ....................................... 278
I join Dr. Wernher von Braun’s Rocket Team ................................................................ 279
Our daughter Janis is born ............................................................................................ 280
I discover amateur archaeology ..................................................................................... 281
A trip to Europe and the UK ....................................................................................... 281
Arrival in Amsterdam ................................................................................................... 281
A visit to the Worlds Fair in Brussels ........................................................................... 282
A visit to England ........................................................................................................ 282
A visit to the Isle of Man .............................................................................................. 282
I join Lockheed in Sunnyvale, California ...................................................................... 283
We return to Huntsville to open a new Lockheed facility ............................................... 284
Our granddaughter, Jennifer Nall, was born ............................................................ 285
I retire and we move to Daphne, Alabama .............................................................. 287
We move to Merritt Island, Florida ........................................................................ 287
We move to Amelia Island, Florida .................................................................. 288
My mother died ............................................................................................... 288
Our granddaughter Jennifer marries Thomas Petrandis .............................................. 289
Our great granddaughter Marina is born ................................................................. 290
Our great granddaughter Savannah is born ............................................................. 292
7
List of Illustrations
Part I My WW-II Civilian Technical Corps Experiences ......................................
Image #
149
138
17
18
127
108
21
122
19
123
22
92
23
105
137
24
94
96
26
27
28
25
29
31
32
30
33
34
35
37
36
43
39
41
40
42
Page
Frontispiece -- Big Ben ......................................................................................... ii
Mr. Devereux H Lippitt Jr. .................................................................................... 4
My Family, Mother, Joe, Melvin, Anne .................................................................. 5
Aerial view of S.E. part of Letohatchie, Alabama ................................................... 6
A NE View of the L&N Depot in Letohatchie, Ala. -- 1940 .................................... 7
Archie Rogers, #107 Melvin Sanderson, #109 Frisco Davis .................................... 7
Ernestine "Teeny" Jenkins ..................................................................................... 8
Jim Farrior bails the 10-foot boat named “Teeny” .................................................. 8
Jimmy Coleman .................................................................................................... 9
Guy Coleman ........................................................................................................ 9
Bill Colvard ........................................................................................................ 10
Thumbs up for Victory ........................................................................................ 13
Jim Farrior, Atlanta, Georgia ............................................................................... 14
Canadian Headquarters of the CTC, Montreal, Quebec, Canada ............................ 15
An ID photo of me taken in Montreal Sept 29, 1941 ............................................. 16
King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Review the CTC ............................... 24
CTC Radio Amateurs at RDF School, Cranwell, Lincs ......................................... 27
Atlantan in England ............................................................................................. 28
American Eagle Club, London ............................................................................. 32
Jim Farrior, American Eagle Club, London .......................................................... 33
American Eagle Club Dorm, Princess Garden, London ......................................... 34
Bomb Damage in London .................................................................................... 35
Japs Attack the U.S.A.......................................................................................... 39
Jim Farrior with Camera bought in London .......................................................... 41
CTC Men with Bikes, Cranwell, Lincs. ....................................................... 42
Our Hut at Radio School #1, Cranwell ........................................................ 43
Map of the Isle of Man ............................................................................... 52
Map of Scarlett Point, Isle of Man .............................................................. 53
Victorian train at the station in Castletown ................................................. 56
Demonstration of the Narrow Gauge Track ................................................. 57
Flat Cars of I.O.M Steam Railway .............................................................. 57
Castle Rushen viewed from Castletown Market Square ............................... 58
Mrs. Stevenson and Fred Grice, Ballasalla, I.O.M. ...................................... 59
A View of Spanish Head and the Calf of Man ............................................. 63
Harry Kelly's Cottage at Cregneish ............................................................. 64
Freddy Grice and Jim Farrior ...................................................................... 65
Continued on next page
8
List of Illustrations
(Continued - 2)
Image #
136
74
81
45
44
75
46
47
48
49
50
51
135
144
141
38
142
52
53
76
103
3
2
126
78
79
77
121
82
125
54
100
101
65
102
56
Page
A letter from CTC Headquarters .......................................................................... 68
Playing Cards in the Hut ............................................................................. 69
Entrance to Castle Rushen ........................................................................... 70
The Inner Harbour at Castletown ................................................................. 71
Waiting for the Bus in Front of Castle Rushen ..................................................... 72
Jim Farrior by a Gorse Hedge, near Castletown .................................................... 73
George Ashley, Jim Farrior, and Harry Wooding .................................................. 75
Harry Wooding, and George Ashley ..................................................................... 76
Channer, Nutall, Farrior, Hope, Haslam ............................................................... 77
Fulton, Ashley, Haslam, Thomas, Lund................................................................ 78
Prescott, Crocker, Hayman, Thomas, Lund ........................................................... 79
Prescott, Farrior, Crocker, Hayman, Thomas, Lund .............................................. 80
Rose Hodges and Bobby Clark ............................................................................. 81
Kathleen and Arthur Vanwell .............................................................................. 81
Odd Fellows Hall ................................................................................................ 84
Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson with Jim Farrior ............................................................. 86
Two WAAFs in the camp lorry ............................................................................ 86
Eileen Collard, Roy Thomas, Vera Bradford, Jim Farrior ..................................... 87
Jim Farrior and Fred Nash ................................................................................... 88
Taking the Sun at Scarlett Point ........................................................................... 89
Jim Farrior at Annerley Court, Bournemouth ....................................................... 92
Our “Victory Garden” at RAF Scarlett Point Camp .............................................. 94
Jumping Rope at Scarlett Camp ........................................................................... 96
The Victoria “Vic” Pub ..................................................................................... 102
Cricket Game at King William's College ............................................................ 103
Taking the Sun at King William's College .......................................................... 103
Group of Scarlett People at King William's College ........................................... 104
My Mother, June 4, 1942 ................................................................................... 110
Jim Farrior and Fred Nash, Duggan's Café, Castletown ...................................... 115
Harry Cooke and Noel Vaughan ......................................................................... 124
Jim Farrior, Vernie Vanwell, Jack Boor ............................................................. 127
Cap Badges ....................................................................................................... 127
Shoulder Patches and rank badge ....................................................................... 127
Jack Boor .......................................................................................................... 128
Jessie Falconer .................................................................................................. 128
Vernie Vanwell and Shirley Cooil...................................................................... 129
(Continued on next page)
9
List of Illustrations
(Continued - 3)
Image #
Page
119
57
58
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66
111
63
146
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55
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177
178
183
187
188
189
191
Cosy Cinema .....................................................................................................
Key to the Tower Photos ...................................................................................
Tower View "A"- TX Towers, Castletown .........................................................
Tower View “B” - “R” T ower-2 ........................................................................
Tower View "C"- Port St. Mary .........................................................................
Tower View "D"- Langness Point ......................................................................
Tower View "E"- T Block-1 ..............................................................................
Vera Bradford Vera Bradford ............................................................................
Jim Farrior in Civilian Clothes at Trafalgar Square, London ...............................
George Fulton Asleep on the Train ....................................................................
The invoice for my new bike .............................................................................
The Great Waterwheel at Laxey .........................................................................
Christmas Dinner 1942 at RAF Scarlett Camp (1) ..............................................
Christmas Dinner 1942 at RAF Scarlett Camp (2) ..............................................
The Famous Castletown Brewery .......................................................................
Miss E. L. Duke, my piano teacher ....................................................................
Miss Duke’s card ..............................................................................................
Anne and Don Slesnick .....................................................................................
Mrs. Redmayne, George Fulton, Cora Redmayne ...............................................
Jim Farrior, Douglas, I.O.M ..............................................................................
Jessie Falconer and Mrs. Cooil ..........................................................................
George Fulton in 1999 .......................................................................................
George Fulton's Family at Bend Oregon .............................................................
Jack Boor in 1987 .............................................................................................
Mrs. Nellie Cool in 1958, age 85 .......................................................................
Part II -- My WW-II Merchant Marine Experiences .............................................
Image #
Page
72
73
104
116
140
117
83
206
207
223
233
234
235
235
The Liberty Ship S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien .............................................................
Jim Farrior, Age 74, in the Radio Room of the O'Brien ......................................
Jim Farrior, Chief Radio Officer, “Sparks”, S.S. John Chandler ..........................
Georgette’s name and address ............................................................................
Carthage, near Tunis, a postcard bought at the site .............................................
Jim Farran and Max Stirn at Carthage ................................................................
Jim Farrior at Carthage, Tunisia ........................................................................
(Continued on next page)
10
List of Illustrations
(Continued - 4)
Image #
113
115
114
110
118
119
98
84
A “V-Mail” Christmas card ...............................................................................
Basilica of St. Augustine, near Bone, Algeria.....................................................
Pencil sketch made at the Amphitheater at Hippone, Algeria ..............................
The locomotive explosion at Letohatchie, Ala., Jan 3, 1944 ................................
Note from Helen Day, George Fulton’s girl friend from Scarlet ..........................
Tintern Abbey, Monmouthshire .........................................................................
Sketch of a Liberty Ship at Augusta Bay, Sicily .................................................
Charlie Johnson, Jim Farrior, Carl “Johnny” Johnson, Paul Blowers ...................
Page
237
239
240
242
244
247
249
271
Part III -- A brief account of my experiences since the war ............................. 273
Image #
Page
145
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273
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Jim Farrior, Montgomery, Ala., Dec. 1945 .........................................................
My first car, Jan., 1946 ......................................................................................
Peggy Adams at Lake Condy, July, 1947 ...........................................................
Peggy and I are married - Dec. 24, 1947 ............................................................
Peggy and baby Sue Farrior ...............................................................................
Janis Farrior in 1957 .........................................................................................
My family at Santa Fe, N.M., Aug. 1959, on our way to California. ....................
Thomas and Jennifer Petrandis at Wedding Reception ........................................
Janis Nall, Peggy Farrior, Sue Harden, Jim Farrior .............................................
Larry Nall and Marina Petrandis at the Computer ...............................................
Marina Petrandis holding Savannah Petrandis ....................................................
Peggy and me with all of our descendants ....................................................
11
Civilian Conservation Corps
Chief Radio Operator, Net Control Station
Ft. Benning, Georgia
Summer, 1938
U.S. Merchant Marine
Chief Radio Officer, S.S. John Chandler
Carthage, Tunisia, Nov. 5, 1943
Civilian Technical Corps
Foreman of Trades, Radar
RAF Scarlett Pt., Isle of Man
April, 1943
Retired Aerospace Executive
Fernandina Beach, Florida
December 2003
Photos of the Author
My WW-II
Civilian Technical Corps
and
Merchant Marine Experiences
by James S. Farrior
Introduction
This book is a revised version of my book entitled “My WW-II Manx Experiences”. That version was
basically about my experience while stationed on the Isle of Man while a member of the Civilian Technical
Corps (CTC). In the first version, the account of my Merchant Marine experiences was limited to a few
months following my discharge from the CTC. This version adds some illustrations to the CTC portion and
describes the entire period of my Merchant Marine Experiences. That explains the necessity for the new name
for the book.
Part I of this new version containing my Civilian Technical Corps Experiences begins with some of
the events leading up to my joining the CTC on Sept. 21, 1941, in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, and continues
until I left the CTC in London, England, on May 21, 1943. Part II of the new version begins when I joined
the U.S. Merchant Marine as a Radio Officer in London, England, on May 21, 1943, after having been discharged from the CTC that same day. It continues until my service in the U.S. Merchant Marine ended when I
was discharged from my ship at San Pedro, near Los Angeles, California, on Nov. 29, 1945, at which time I
returned to Alabama. Part III of the new version is a brief account of my life after the War.
The account of my CTC experiences and the first part of my Merchant Marine experiences are compiled primarily from a two-volume diary that was kept from Sept. 10, 1941 to Sept. 9, 1943, and from notes,
correspondence, personal documents, and letters sent home that were kept by my mother. The illustrations are
mostly from photos that I took at the time.
A major motivation for originally preparing the Manx portion was to provide Mr. Alan Cleary, of
Castletown, Isle of Man, with information, which was of interest to him. He was collecting historical information about the radiolocation stations that existed on the Island during WW-II, and he indicated that his local historical association, "Castletown Heritage", the “Manx Museum”, and perhaps others would find it interesting and useful. That turned out to be the case. I wish to thank Alan for his interest and the considerable
effort that he put into reading and proofing the original manuscript, making suggestions, and pointing out errors. Without his help and encouragement, I doubt that this book would have been undertaken. I also wish to
thank Alan for printing and distributing, primarily on the Isle of Man, a number of copies of the first version
of this book. I am pleased that they were well received.
2
Part I -- Civilian Technical Corps Experiences
Setting the Stage
My radio experience began in 1937 when, as a member of the Civilian Conservation Corps, I had
been trained as a radio telegraph operator at a school in Ft. Barrancas, Florida. For nearly two years, I served
as the Chief Operator of the Net Control Station of a network of radio telegraph stations. I also gained a considerable amount of radio technical experience and obtained a Class A radio amateur license, W4FOK. When
I turned 21 years of age on January 11, 1941, I was working as a civilian radio telegrapher at the U.S. Army’s
Fourth Corps Area Net Control Station, call letters WVR, at Ft. McPherson, Ga. The job paid well, and I
liked the work.
I rented a room in the home of Mrs. Howell at 1273 Stewart Ave., Atlanta, Ga. Her daughter and sonin-law, Margaret and Bill Boyd, also lived in the home. When I first moved in, Harold and Laura Byrd also
lived there. Harold was one of the best telegraph operators at WVR. Both couples and I became good friends.
My last contact with Margaret and Bill was in the mid 1960s, when both were in bad health. My last exchange of e-mails with Harold Byrd was in 1997. Later, I received a letter from Laura Byrd telling me that
Harold had always enjoyed good health, but had died at age 83 on March 15, 2000, as a result of a staph infection he got in a hospital during a minor surgical procedure.
The war in Europe was raging. France had fallen, and in June 1940, the British had been able to rescue a large percentage of their soldiers from the beaches at Dunkirk. The United States was still officially
neutral, and the mood in the United States was very much against going to war. However, President Roosevelt realized the magnitude of the threat and was making an effort to assist the British cause and to build
American support at home. He was a close friend of Prime Minister Winston Churchill, who was providing
strong and effective leadership for his beleaguered people. The Germans were relentlessly bombing the cities
and other facilities of Great Britain, and the German U-boats were very effective in sinking many of the ships
that were attempting to transport supplies to Great Britain.
Britain was critically short of everything needed to build and maintain an adequate defense. The Royal Air Force had insufficient airplanes, fuel, and ammunition, and the anti-aircraft defense was short of guns
and ammunition. The replacement of ships and crews lost at sea, and lost airplanes, pilots, and crewmembers
was becoming more and more difficult. The production of war materials of all kinds was slowed down by the
lack of raw materials and the frequent bombing caused much damage to the production facilities and to the
cities. Food and other necessities for the military and the civilian population were in very short supply. There
was an imminent danger of invasion of the British Isles by the Germans, and the British were poorly prepared
to resist successfully. However, all of these hardships and difficulties had not demoralized the British People.
In early June, 1941, the U.S. Army Signal Corps Officer in charge at U.S. Army radio station WVR
told the approximately 25 radio operators working there that he had been assured that if any of us should be
called up by the newly imposed military draft, we would be exempted because of the importance of our
work.. If that failed to work as planned, the Army would enlist us and keep us in the same job. We would
simply put on a uniform and move into the military barracks at Ft. McPherson, but would remain at the same
job. Somehow, neither of those possibilities sounded interesting to me. If a war were coming, I didn’t want to
spend it sitting at the same desk. In addition, I had been looking for an opportunity to get into radio work that
was more technical than radiotelegraphy.
I learn about the Civilian Technical Corps
A few days later, I saw a brief article in the newspaper which said that the British had developed an
effective radiolocation system for tracking enemy aircraft coming from the continent to bomb their cities. The
article mentioned that soon it would be possible for American volunteers to work in that field. Anxious to
3
gain more technical knowledge and experience, I wrote to Mr. James Marjoribanks (later Sir James), His
Majesty’s Consul in Jacksonville, concerning my interest. A few days later, I received a letter from him, dated June 17th that stated that they were presently interested in persons with experience in the development and
design of equipment for operation below 10 meters wavelength, but that very soon the possibility would be
opened for persons having a different type of radio experience. Two days later, I received another letter from
him, dated June 19th, which told of the announcement by the British Government of the formation of the Civilian Technical Corps. It included a small pamphlet describing the CTC, and also some application forms.
The Civilian Technical Corps was an organization formed by the British Air Ministry, with the approval of the U.S. Government, to recruit American volunteers to work as Radio Mechanics, or in some other
selected fields where an urgent need for technical workers existed. The primary thing that interested me was
the possibility of receiving some additional technical radio training and experience, but I was also motivated
by a sense of adventure. In addition, I felt that I would be supporting a very worthy cause. The little pamphlet
sent to me contained only very basic information about the CTC.
From the pamphlet, I learned that there was an acute shortage of technical people to maintain and repair a highly classified radiolocation system for tracking aircraft. The CTC was initiated to help relieve this
shortage. Those who wished to join were required to meet the RAF physical requirements and must have had
technical experience that would qualify them to receive the technical training needed to perform their duties.
The CTC members would be civilians, but I later learned that they would wear the RAF uniform with a special insignia. They would live and work with the RAF personnel who performed the same or similar duties.
CTC members would not forfeit their American citizenship because they would not be required to
take an oath of allegiance to the King. The pay ranged from £5/5/0 ($21.12 per week) to £9/7/4 ($38.65) per
week, depending on the rank achieved. The British government would supply food, clothing, housing, transportation, and medical treatment. No income taxes would be payable to the British Government. Although the
pay was less than I was receiving at the time, that was not an important factor in making a decision to join.
Much of the information in this and the next two paragraphs was not learned by me until later. In the
years just prior to the German invasion of Poland, and continuing with increased priority after that, the British
had put a great effort into conceiving, designing, manufacturing, and putting into place a highly secret tracking (radiolocation) system to give advanced warning of the incoming enemy aircraft. This system, officially
known as the Chain Home (CH) system, used a concept called RDF’ now called RADAR) to track the location of all aircraft, friend or foe, that were in the critical areas covered by the system. This system was complemented by another system known as the Chain Home Low Flying (CHL) system, which operated on a
higher frequency and was capable of tracking low flying aircraft not detected by the CH system. Both systems
were the responsibility of the British Air Ministry, and were maintained and operated by Royal Air Force
(RAF & WAAF) personnel, and also some men from the Royal Canadian Air Force and the Royal New Zealand Air Force. Members of the CTC also served as technicians with the same duties as the military technicians.
The Chain Home system consisted of a chain of many high-powered RDF stations located at strategic
sites around the coast of the British Isles. Tracking information from the individual stations was sent to central "Filter Rooms" where the plots were displayed on a large map. The information was communicated to
appropriate end users. Representatives of the military and civil defense groups were able to use this information to deal more effectively with enemy air attacks. The military could launch effective and timely air
strikes against the incoming enemy planes. Knowing where the enemy planes were, and their number and
altitude, made it possible to hold the defending planes on the ground for a longer period, thus saving fuel,
wear and tear on the airplanes, and reducing the flying time of the pilots and crews. In addition, it permitted a
better protection of the civilian population from air raids. The system also became an effective deterrent,
which caused the enemy to reduce greatly the number of air attacks that would otherwise have occurred.
4
The Chain Home system has been credited as one of the major factors in making it possible for the
British to put up a successful resistance and to prevent the Germans from launching an invasion. In other
words, Great Britain might very well have fallen had it not been for the existence of the CH and CHL stations. CTC technicians played an important part in that.
When I was considering joining the CTC, I knew essentially nothing about the tracking system, but I
understood that it was of vital importance to the war effort. Although that was a factor, the opportunity for
technical experience and adventure was undoubtedly the primary reason why I submitted my application. I
considered the possible consequences of being in England during and after a successful invasion by Germany,
but gave it little weight. At the time my application was submitted, I had little expectation that it would be
accepted. I thought there would be far more applicants than necessary to meet the requirements.
A few days later, my expectations increased somewhat when I
received a letter dated August 4, 1941, from Mr. Devereux H. Lippitt,
Jr., an Atlanta attorney who served as head of the Georgia State Office
of the CTC, located in Atlanta. He asked that I submit two photographs, my birth certificate, and a copy of the diploma indicating my
education. Shortly afterward, I received a letter from the New York
Office of the CTC, asking that I submit fingerprint forms. After receipt
of those items, they would make arrangements for my medical examination. At that time, I felt that there was a good chance that I would be
accepted. Even over 60 years later, I can remember vividly how my
excitement level began to build.
Right: #138 -- Mr. Devereux H Lippett, Jr., Manager of the
CTC recruiting office in Atlanta, playing a Chinese guitar at a
party. Several weeks after this photo was taken, he would b ecome a Naval Officer. (From a group photo in the June 1942
issue of Life Magazine. Courtesy of his nephew, Devereux H. Li ppett III.)
My l as t vi s i t to my h ome tow n b ef ore l eavi n g A tl an ta
For some months, I had wanted to go home for a short visit to Letohatchie, Ala., a small town about
20 miles south of Montgomery. This would be my first visit home since I had left Letohatchie to go to work
in Atlanta, and I was very anxious to see my family. I had been raised in Letohatchie (population about 200),
and my mother, my stepfather, my sister Anne (nearly 19), and my brother Joe (12), lived there. My stepfather was an agent/telegraph operator at the local L&N railroad depot. Believing that this might be my only
chance to get home, I spent nearly a week there, beginning about August 10th, 1941.
I had a wonderful visit with my family and my friends in the small town. It was an enjoyable visit,
but I was unable to convince my mother that there was nothing dangerous about joining the CTC and going to
England. However, she quickly became resigned to the fact that I was going to do it. My mother, who was
quite religious, said that she would pray for me every day. I am certain that she did.
While I was there, I told Ernestine "Teeny" Jenkins, a pretty young girl who lived next door, about
my plans, and she told me that she would write to me while I was in England. A year earlier, Guy Coleman
and I had made a 14-day trip down the Alabama River to Mobile in a small paddleboat. I had named the little
boat after Teeny, and Jimmy Coleman, Guy's brother, had painted her name on the hull. Teeny kept her word,
and wrote to me until some time after I joined the Merchant Marine in mid 1943.
5
#17 -- My fam ily: Mother, brother Joe, stepfather Melvin Sanderson, and si ster Anne,
at the fam ily hom e in Letohatchie, Al abam a. -- l941
In the above photo, they were dressed for going to church at the Letohatchie Baptist Church, a
wooden structure that has been replaced by a brick one. I took the above photo in 1941 during my last visit
home shortly before I left Atlanta in route-route to Montreal to join the CTC. Whenever I look at the above
photo, the years roll back and I have a strong feeling of standing before them with the camera. I also feel
the nostalgic presence of a town that today scarcely exists, and the names and faces of the people who lived
there come to mind. The bush behind them was a “butterfly bush”, which stood at the corner of the porch.
It had blossoms that attracted many butterflies. The next time that our family were all together would be
nearly two years later when I was at this home for a few days while my ship was in port in New York.
In the photo on the next page, our family home (with 4 posts at the front porch) can be seen at the
lower left hand corner of the photo. The above photo was taken just beyond the right end of the front porch.
The home no longer stands, and a house trailer is located in the area where our garden once existed.
6
#18 -- Aerial view of SE part of Letohatchi e, Ala., population about 200. Cloc kwise from lower left: Our hom e, Jenkins' hom e, Mims' hom e, Whitley's hom e. Let ohatchie Baptist Church, Mr. Jack Payne's store.
Teeny Jenkins sent me the above photo in 1942 when I was on the Isle of Man. On the back she had
written, "Remember?" My grandfather, James S. Farrior Sr. (I'm the III) was Chairman of the Building Committee of the Letohatchie Baptist Church when it was built in 1896/1897. His home, which was built in 1895,
is just off the photo at the left, and it was kept in good repair until 2002 when it burned to the ground. His
son-in-law, Fletcher Holmes, was a building contractor who built his home and both homes on each side of
the Farrior home. He also built the Payne Store, in the above photo, just before 1900. Letohatchie became a
town in 1858, when a railway station and post office were established.
Before WW-II, a minority of Letohatchie homes had running water or inside toilets, and some did not
have electricity. None had a telephone. There were no paved roads. The then unpaved road shown in the
above photo was a main county highway, and when cars would pass through town in dry weather, thick
clouds of dust would rise. There was no doctor, and no local police. In 1941, the town had seven country
stores, one of which contained the post office. There were also three churches, and a railroad depot. Today,
there are no stores, only one church, and the depot burned and was not replaced. All of the buildings seen in
the above photo no longer stand, with the exception of the Mims home across the street from the church. The
lot where our old home had stood was cleared off, home and all, and a house trailer is located there now. The
Jenkins family left the home many years ago, and the home has been demolished and replaced by a house
trailer. Indeed, Letohatchie as I knew it does not exist today. People who live there now spell it Letohatchee.
7
#127 -- A NE View of the L&N Dep ot in Let ohatchie, Ala. -- 1940
#108 -- Archie Rogers
#107 -- Melvin Sanderson
#109 -- Frisco Davis
Station Agent/Telegraph Operators at the Letohatchie L&N D epot
The station office was always m anned. The agents worked eight hour tricks.
8
A pretty girl and an ugly boat, both named Teeny
#21 --- Teeny Jenkins
#122 --- Jim Farrior bails the 10 foot boat named Teeny
Teeny lived in a home next door to me in Letohatchie, Alabama, with her father, Mr. Pete Jenkins,
her mother, Mrs. Florence Jenkins, and her younger sister, Jane Jenkins. I took the above photo of her in the
living room of our home in Letohatchie, Alabama, when I was at home in 1941 just prior to my leaving for
Canada to join the Civilian Technical Corps. She wrote to me frequently while I was on the Isle of Man. Ernestine is now the wife of Robbins Taylor, a prominent industrialist of Montgomery, Alabama. They live near
Letohatchie.
In 1940, after I had graduated from high school, Guy Coleman, a Letohatchie friend of mine and I
took an adventurous 17-day trip down the Alabama River, from Benton, Alabama, to Mobile, Alabama. We
drug an old 10-foot boat from a local pond and repaired it. After a coat of house-paint had been applied, I had
Guy’s brother, Jimmy, paint the name “Teeny” on the bow. It was meant to be a compliment, but I’m not sure
that such a pretty girl as Teeny appreciated having such an awful-looking boat named after her. The small
boat would barely hold Guy and me, but we had to make room for our provisions and gear. The boat was
hauled to the river in a pickup truck, and was slid down the steep river bank into the water. It leaked badly,
especially at first, and had to be bailed often, as the photo above depicts. We went ashore and slept on the
bank for the first few nights, but it became obvious that we would reach Mobile before we ran out of provisions. We then decided to float all night and go ashore only once a day to cook food. It was hard enough just
to sit in the cramped boat, but next to impossible to get any sleep. The current was slower than we had
thought, and we didn’t have suitable paddles. Toward the end, one or the other of us paddled continuously.
We ran out of food and drank water from the river.
During the trip, we experienced many exciting events, some of which were quite dangerous. When
we finally arrived in Mobile we sadly cast the boat adrift, and walked up the railroad track toward the L&N
depot. When we came to a small café, we spent most of our remaining money to buy food. When we arrived
at the depot, we shipped our gear back. At General Delivery there was a letter from my mother saying that I
had a job waiting for me as a radio telegrapher in Atlanta. We then headed for the highway to hitch hike back
home. Shortly after I reported to work in Atlanta, I wrote an illustrated book describing our experiences.
However, it was forty-three years later, in 1983, before I published and distributed some copies. The dedication read: “This true story is dedicated to the memory of Guy R. Coleman, as fine a fellow as anybody ever
had for a companion on an adventure, and who gave his life in the services of his country. He will always be
remembered”.
9
Two fine service men
#19 -- Jimm y Col em an
#123 -- Guy Coleman
Jimmy and Guy were brothers and former citizens of Letohatchie, Alabama. Jimmy, now called Jim,
was several years younger than I, and he and his older brother, Guy, were good friends of mine. Jim often
wrote to me during the war, and sent me the above photo when he was in the U.S. Army Air Force toward the
end of the war. He and his wife, Frances, now (in 2003) live in Huntsville, Alabama, and we are often in
communication by email. I saw Jim and Frances in 2002 in Selma, Alabama, at a reunion of the Hayneville
High School, of Hayneville, Lowndes County, Alabama. It was the first time that I had seen them since I retired from Lockheed in Huntsville in 1980. In addition to our Alabama heritage, Jim and I share a common
interest in Amateur Radio and Genealogy. Jim’s Amateur Radio call is W4ENT.
Almost immediately after our previously mentioned Alabama River trip, Guy became a member of
the Civilian Conservation Corps, and served as a radio operator. While in the CCC, he received his Amateur
Radio license with the call W5KFL Although I corresponded with Guy after the river trip, I didn’t see him
again until shortly before he died. By chance, we met for hardly more than a minute at the Train Station in
Montgomery on April 13, 1944. As I stepped down from my train that had just arrived from New York, I
heard someone yell, “Hey, Jim”, and turned to see Guy, looking great in his Navy uniform. His train to New
York had already been called, and he was walking out to board. He said that his vessel was docked at the
Brooklyn Navy Yard, where mine had docked, and I told him that I would look him up when I got back to my
ship. We waved goodbye as he boarded the train. Guy’s ship left before I returned to New York on 18 April.
When we met, Guy had less than a month to live. He died in action in the U.S. Navy on 3 May 1944 when his
Naval Vessel was struck by a torpedo in the North Atlantic Ocean. My ship was also in the North Atlantic at
the time that Guy’s ship was torpedoed. It was several months before I learned of his death.
10
#22 -- Bill Colvard of L etohatchie,
Ala., with his coon dogs
I took the above photo in 1940. Bill
served in the Pacific during the war, and we
exchanged a few letters during that time. After
the war, Bill and his wife, Ann, owned and operated a country store in Letohatchie, and they
also owned the cattle farm that had belonged to
his grandfather. At the end of the war, there
were eight stores in Letohatchie. Now (2003)
there are none. Bill's store was the last to close.
They recently sold their farm to my cousin,
Dickson Farrior, and Bill and Ann moved to
Montgomery, Ala. We have remained in frequent contact since the war.
Application accepted!
Shortly after my visit home, I received
another letter from the CTC giving me the
name of the doctor to whom I should go for a
physical examination. That was quickly done. I
was not given any kind of technical exam. The next communication was a Western Union telegram from the
New York Office of the CTC, dated Sept. 15, 1941, which said "YOUR APPLICATION ACCEPTED STOP
FULL INSTRUCTIONS FOLLOWING BY AIR MAIL". My excitement level continued to rise!
On Sept. 16, I submitted my resignation to the Signal Officer at Ft. McPherson. I had thought it
through and had made up my mind, but it was with considerable sadness and with some misgivings that I
gave up the first good job that I had ever had and began on a path that was very indefinite. I would not see my
family and old friends in a long time, and I hated to leave my friends among the group of about 25 telegraph
operators at WVR. Most of my friends acted like they thought I had lost my mind. However, as it would turn
out, a job at WVR was far more limited than I had imagined, both in the near term and as a career. Shortly
after Pearl Harbor, the army began replacing the radio circuits with teletypes, both radio and landline, which
required only a typing skill to operate. After Pearl Harbor, some of the WVR operators rather quickly entered
the military, and nearly all of the rest went on to other things. Except for marine radiotelegraph operators,
who were used aboard ships until the 1990s, radiotelegraphy as a profession quickly disappeared. After the
war, even American Morse landline telegraphy used by the railroads and the telegraph companies were soon
phased out.
A letter was received dated Sept. 15, 1941, containing the instructions referred to in the telegram.
Two days after that, a letter dated Sept 17, 1941,was received from the Atlanta Office of Cunard White Star
Line, acting as travel agents, which gave my travel schedule as follows:
Leave Atlanta Friday, Sept. 19, at 6:25 PM. Arrive Montreal, Sunday, Sept. 21, at 6:55 AM.
After the original delays, things had sped up to the extent that now almost no time was allowed. I
knew then that I was about to embark on a most exciting adventure.
11
The First Diary Entry
1273 Stewart Ave., Atlanta, Ga., Wednesday, Sept. 10, 1941 - I got off from work early and went
down town to see Mr. Devereux Lippett about my application for the British Civilian Technical Corps. He
said that he would let me know something definite before next Monday. After that, I went to see a show
"Strawberry Blonde", which was very good. Later, I went out to the U.S. Army Signal Corps radio station
WVR at Ft. McPherson, where I was employed, and talked with Allen Henchelwood, a friend who is one of
the radio telegraphers. Allen is considering going to Canada and joining the Canadian Armed Services.
Thursday, Sept. 11, 1941 - At 4 PM Albert Smith, another telegrapher at WVR, and I got off work
and rode our bicycles to the transmitter building, which is located about a mile away from the operating
building. We are both trying to increase our technical knowledge and we spent an hour or so discussing the
transmitting equipment with Sgt. Wallace, who is in charge. I had often visited the transmitter building, and
am now quite familiar with the equipment that it contains. After returning home, I had supper with Bill and
Margaret Boyd, with whom I room. After supper, we went to West End in their car and bowled a game. During the game, we listened to President Roosevelt’s speech wherein he stated that U.S. Warships would sink on
sight any Axis sub or raider found in waters vital to our national defense. After returning home, we sat in their
car and listened to the news roundup. I didn’t get to bed until midnight.
Friday, Sept. 12, 1941 - I had to go on watch early, so I took a nap after I returned home from work
at 4 PM. Later, after supper, I went for a ride with Bill and Margaret. We bowled a game at West End and,
after that; we went to Lakewood Fair Grounds and watched an impressive Shriner’s fireworks display. After
returning home, I listened to my Hallicrafters Sky Champion communications receiver, picking up both England and Italy with good signal strength. I expect to get a telegram or letter from the British Government
about the CTC any day now.
Saturday, Sept. 13, 1941 - It is three o’clock Sunday morning. Margaret, Bill and I just got back
from the midnight show at the Fox Theater and a late snack at the Dutch Kitchen. We saw a good comedy,
"Charlie’s Aunt", at the FOX. I have Sunday duty, so I must to go to work at 8 AM and clear traffic with
WAR, the Army’s Net Control Station in Washington, D.C.
Sunday, Sept. 14, 1941 - I went to work at 8 AM this morning and cleared all of the messages with
WAR by 10:30 AM. I then went to the post barbershop and got a haircut. As a civilian employee working on
the post, I can use the post facilities, such as the stores, shops, and the cafeteria. The prices are much better
than in town. When I returned home, I went to sleep and woke up this evening at 5 PM. Bill, Margaret, and I
went to West End and had supper. We went down town and saw "Three Sons O’Guns", which we all enjoyed.
Tomorrow being Monday, Mr. Lippett is supposed to let me know something about my departure for England.
Monday, Sept. 15, 1941 - I went down town this morning and talked with Mr. Lippett about my application for the CTC. He sent a telegram to New York about it. Afterward, I went to the airport, where I had
been taking flying lessons. I have completed all of the requirements and am ready to solo, but it was much too
windy, and my instructor was not there. On my way back to town on the trolley bus, we passed my flight instructor in his car and I motioned to him to stop. I rode back with him in his 16 cylinder sport car to the airport, where we talked about flying. I told him about my plans to leave soon and that I might not be able to
solo before I left. We decided that we would try again tomorrow. He showed me his large Ford Tri-Motor
airplane that he uses for taking groups for short airplane rides over Atlanta and for other commercial purposes. I have taken that ride several times. He has a large camera that can be mounted in the plane’s floor, and he
has recently completed a contract with the Cuban Government to make detailed photographs of Cuba. He also
has a powerful loudspeaker system that he can mount in place of the camera. When I returned home, I found
an answer to the telegram, which stated that my application had been accepted and that airmail instructions
will follow. I called Mr. Lippett, and he told me that I would have to get a passport. He said that I would re-
12
port to Montreal, Canada, where the CTC Transition Headquarters is located. This will be the first time I’ve
ever left the United States. I’m really getting excited.
I've never made a long trip, except for the time when I was 1 year old and my mother took me to
Washington to see my Uncle Henry, who was Congressman Henry B. Steagall. Note (2003): Uncle Henry
was the co-sponsor of the Glass-Steagall Act that stabilized the American banking system, which helped to
end the depression. He married my maternal grandfather’s sister who had died before our visit. End note.
We had then continued on to Baltimore to visit with my Uncle Fletcher Holmes and my Aunt Lura
(Farrior) Holmes. Note (2003) Uncle Fletcher was the contractor who built the Jim Farrior home in Letohatchie for my grandfather in 1895. End note.
Tuesday, Sept. 16, 1941 - This morning I caught the trackless trolley bus and started for the airport
again for my solo flight. However, the wind began blowing hard and I got off when the bus passed Fort
McPherson. I think that I’m going to be too busy to try again. That's very disappointing, as I had gone to a
considerable effort and expense to get to this point. My resignation was submitted, and it becomes effective
Oct. 2, when my leave will expire. I wish I had time to spend those two weeks at home in Letohatchie, but
that is impossible. Fortunately, I was there for a few days recently. I have worked my last day as a telegrapher
at WVR, and I took this occasion to say goodbye to the telegraphers who were on duty. They are fine men.
Mrs. Howell, my landlady who has been very kind to me, had obtained some shipping boxes for me,
and I spent the evening packing my amateur radio equipment. I really wonder if, or when, I will be able to use
it again. I didn’t hear from the CTC this evening. Bill, Margaret, and I went to West End and bowled a game.
It is 10:25 PM, so I will get some sleep and pack my clothes tomorrow.
Wednesday, Sept. 17, 1941 - I went to Ft. McPherson this morning to try to sell my bicycle, but no
luck. On the way back home, I stopped at the local draft board, which is not far from where I live. I was given
a certificate giving me permission "to depart from the U.S. to visit the British Empire for a period of 3 years
as a radio technician in the Civilian Technical Corps". I was glad that I was able to get the certificate because
the CTC is so new that I worried that they might not know about it. They didn’t know at first, but a telephone
call had quickly solved the problem. When I returned home, I had a letter from N.Y. with a check for my
passport. I went down town and met Margaret at Rich’s Department Store where she worked, and she went
with me to identify me at the courthouse. I then went to see Mr. Lippett, and he arranged for me to get my
transportation from Mr. Grant at the White Star Lines office. He also asked me to see the City Editor of the
Atlanta Constitution newspaper tomorrow afternoon. I’m to leave for Montreal Friday evening, and will arrive Sunday morning.
Thursday, Sept. 18, 1941 - Albert Smith helped me pack the rest of my belongings this morning and
he also bought my bicycle. This afternoon, I went down to Mr. Lippitt’s office and met Mr. Marjoribanks, the
British Consulate from Jacksonville, Florida. He spoke with a very British accent. I suppose I will hear a lot
of that in the near future. Some photos were taken by a photographer from the Atlanta Constitution, Atlanta’s
principal newspaper.
My picture appeared in the Atlanta Constitution this morning, together with Mr. Marjoribanks and a
CTC applicant named Elroy McKay from this area. I went to a jewelry store and bought a Longines wristwatch for $62.50. This is the largest purchase I’ve ever made, but I wanted to get one that would run reliably
for as long as I am gone. It is a fine, self-winding watch that should last for many years. The next to the largest purchase was my Hallicrafters communication receiver that I bought last year for $49.50.
13
#92 -- The caption read:
“Thum bs up for victory.
With their thum bs el evated thus form ing the ‘ V
for Victory’, two At la ntans, Elroy McKay and
Jam es S. Farrior were
bade farewel l yesterday
by Jam es Major ibanks
(right), British Co nsul.
McKay and Fa rrior today
leave for England, where
they will be em ployed by
The Civilian Techn ical
Corps.”
After returning from
town, Bill, Margaret, and I went
to West End and bowled a
game, and then went out to eat.
When we returned home, the
express company’s truck had
just arrived for my crates. Before going to bed, I wrote a letter home telling Mother what to do with all of my things that I am sending
At la
nta Co
st it utthe
io nfamily
P ho tomight use my Hallicrafters communicahome to Letohatchie. She was told that
while
I'mngone,
tions receiver as the family radio. It is much better than the radio they have at home, and it also covers all of
the short wave bands. I will leave Atlanta tomorrow at 6:25 PM.
Departure for Montreal, Canada
Friday, Sept. 19, 1941 - While walking to Mr. Grant's office to get my ticket to Montreal, a street
photographer took my picture. Bill drove Margaret, Loretta, and me to the train station at 5 PM, where I met
Mr. Grant of the Cunard White Star Lines, who had come to see me off. They stayed with me until train time.
Bill, Margaret, and I had become good friends, and it was sad to say goodbye. Loretta and her husband are a
nice young couple that moved into Mrs. Howell’s home when the Byrds moved. Elry McKay was not at the
train that evening, and I never heard of him again. He must have backed out and never joined the CTC. I had
a lower berth and turned in about 11 PM. Goodbye, Atlanta! I wonder if I will ever see you again! -- And if
so, when, and under what circumstances? I’m really excited!
Aboard the train to Montreal, Saturday, Sept. 20, 1941 - I woke up this morning just out of Cincinnati. There was a one-hour wait in the station for the train to Detroit, so I wrote a post card to Mother. The
country around Cincinnati was hilly, but it soon leveled off and was flat as a dollar until we reached Detroit. I
had to wait for the Montreal train for about an hour, and when we departed, we went under a long tunnel and
came out in Canada. This was my first view of a foreign country. At Windsor, the customs inspector boarded
and searched some people’s baggage, but didn’t search mine. I also met Bob Boudin, another CTC man from
San Francisco. I went to bed early and listened to the wheels clicking on the rails for a long time before I got
to sleep.
14
Arrival in Montreal, Quebec
Montreal, Quebec, Canada, Sunday, Sept.
21. - I woke up just outside of Montreal. Bob and I
went to the diner and got a cup of coffee. We hoped
we would get breakfast when we arrived at CTC
headquarters. When I gave the waiter an American
dollar, he gave me back a Canadian dollar. The difference between the American dollar and the Canadian
dollar is ten cents, which is the cost of a cup of coffee.
At Montreal, we were met at the station by a Canadian
military truck and were taken out to the fabulous old
mansion of the late Sir Henry Thornton, former President of the Canadian National Railroad, which is to be
our home.
Information from the Post Card: Built
about 1911 for the Beardmore Family, this four story,
stone, 30-room mansion later became the home of Sir
Henry Thornton, K.B.E., Chairman of the Canadian
National Railways. He resided there until his retirement in 1933. Its location on the slope of Mount Royal provides a panoramic view of the City of Montreal,
the St. Lawrence River, and beyond. End
This fine old mansion now belongs to the Canadian Government. Although none of the original
furniture remains in the home, the woodwork, floors,
and the size and number of rooms all reflect Sir Henry’s great wealth. Even the horse stables belonging to
the home are heated with steam radiators. We were
just in time for breakfast, after which we were told
that we were free to go down town and look it over.
#23 -- Jim Farrior, Atlanta, Ga., on Sept. 19,
Our U.S. dollars are worth $1.10 in Canadian money.
1941, the day of leaving for Canada.
Most of the people speak French, and the main newspaper, “La Press”, is printed in French. Most of the
street signs are in French and English. Montreal is a huge town with a population of about a million and a
half. We returned fairly early and went to bed. I am assigned to the top of a double-decker bunk in a large
room that contains many similar bunks.
Capt. Sims is in daily charge of the CTC headquarters here at the mansion, but he stays in his office
and we see little of him. There are also two higher-ranking officers, Major Etches and Col. Brown, who come
here from time to time. The CTC must be a part-time activity for them. The actual headquarters of the CTC is
in England, and this is a transit center. We were told very little, and it seems that those who arrived earlier
have very little formation about what to expect.
15
Photo from a postcard kindly supplied in 2002 by Brenda Joyce, daughter of W.W. Crabtree CTC #963
#105 -- Canadian Headquarters – Civilian Technical Corps, 1415 Pine Av enue West,
Montreal, Quebec
Montreal, Quebec, Canada, Monday, Sept. 22, 1941 - Breakfast was at 8:30. After that, I went
down and drew some clothing, but not my uniform, as they are in short supply and will be issued later. Most
of the men here have not received their uniforms. For wearing in the meantime, we were issued some RAF
tropical khaki shorts, which are not too bad now, but it could turn cold any day. Except when around the
mansion, those who have not yet received their uniforms wear their personal clothing. A bell rang, and we
went out, lined up, and marched down the mountain to a photo shop, where we had pictures taken for a temporary passport. Some of the men are leaving tomorrow. They will board a boat at Montreal and will have a
trip down the river. Others will leave the next day by rail to Halifax, where they will embark on a ship to
Britain. I have no idea when I will leave, but hope it is not long. The weather now is quite pleasant.
Tuesday, Sept. 23, 1941 - A group of men are leaving tonight, and more in the morning. I will be in
the next group because my uniform and passport are not ready. I expect to get them soon. This will leave only
a few of us. The food here is poor. I don’t think they are set up to feed our group. The kitchen has a hard time
knowing how many men will be eating here. It is a different number each day. After supper, we had a meeting where the men who were leaving were presented with their enrollment certificates. I spent the day hanging around the mansion and talking with some of the men.
Wednesday, Sept. 24, 1941 - I took the passport photos to the American Consul and got a temporary
passport to use in case my passport does arrive from New York before time to sail. Tonight, I went down
16
town and did some sightseeing and then came back and sat around in the recreation room. A few more men
left this morning. There are about 18 or 20 of us here now. A CTC man named Louis Fishoff (CTC #55) is
still here because he has been appointed to be our supervisor. He was in France when it was invaded by the
Germans and managed to get out of the country. He had lived in France for about 18 years.
Thursday, Sept. 25, 1941 - I have done nothing all day but hang around talking to the gang. There
are about 30 of us here now, quite a few having come in today and tonight. I went to the airport this morning
where there is a supply unit and got my uniform, which does not fit. It was left with a tailor who is supposed
to bring it to the mansion tomorrow morning. Capt. Sims told us earlier that we would leave tomorrow night,
but I understand that it has been postponed. The food here is getting better. I bought a money belt tonight,
which should prove useful. This waiting is getting on my nerves. I hope we sail for Halifax tomorrow night.
Friday, Sept. 26, 1941 - Our departure was postponed. Today was payday, and I drew $13.00, Canadian money. I had a little work to do today loading a RCAF truck with beds, tables, chairs, and mattresses. I
guess this place was equipped for more people that the CTC is likely to have at any one time. Later, I went
down town and bought an amateur radio "QST" magazine, which cost 37 cents here. It is 25 cents in the U.S.
I may leave tomorrow night. My uniform has not been returned from the tailor. This is cutting it too close.
#137 -- An ID photo of m e taken in Montreal - Sept. 29,
1941
Saturday, Sept. 27, 1941 - We had a drill today. We marched up
Mount Royal along a road that is quite steep. The tailor brought my uniform back and it is a pretty good fit. There is one strange thing about it.
There are no provisions for wearing a belt with the trousers, which are
held up with suspenders. The suspenders are elastic, and when I walk
around the heavy wool trousers bounce up and down. I looked in a mirror, and can’t see the bouncing, but it sure feels funny. Bouncing trousers! It will take a long time to get used to this. Also, the shirt has a detachable collar that is held in place with removable metallic collar buttons. I’ve never seen detachable collars before, but I can remember hearing about them. It’s a good idea, but I need some practice putting them
on. I went down town today and tried to find some “U.S.A.” shoulder
patches to sew on my RAF uniform, but all of the stores had sold out. A
group of us had our picture taken, which will be returned tomorrow. Our
departure is not definite, but I don’t guess it will be before Monday.
These new RAF shoes are heavy and really do hurt my feet!
Sunday, Sept. 28, 1941 - This morning was somewhat dull, but
this evening I went up on Mount Royal to look out over the town and met a pretty French-speaking girl. She
was real nice, but her English is not much better than my very limited French, which made it difficult for us
to carry on a conversation. However, trying was fun. It was a short, but interesting, acquaintance. Tonight, it
is raining for the first time since I have been here. Montreal is a very interesting place, and I would like to see
more of it. However, I don’t like the uncertainty as to our departure date. I have heard from a more or less
reliable source that we are scheduled to leave tomorrow evening.
Montreal, Quebec, Monday, Sept. 29, 1941 - This morning, I went down town and found some
“U.S.A.” shoulder insignias to put on my uniform. Sewing them on with very small stitches was quite a job,
but I got it done and they look good. Tonight I went to see a show. Bob Hope was playing in "Nothing but the
Truth". The fight between Joe Lewis and Nova was tonight. Joe Lewis won by a knockout in the sixth round.
It has been announced that we will definitely catch the train to Halifax tomorrow night. However, I have become skeptical and will believe it when it happens!
17
Tuesday, Sept. 30, 1941 - I spent a good part of the day making certain that everything is in order for
leaving. After supper, we had a meeting in the recreation room. Capt. Sims, Major Etches, and Col. Brown
were there. Col. Brown gave us our enrollment certificates and wished us "bon voyage". My CTC number is
149. After the meeting, we loaded on a bus and went down to the station and boarded the train. Although it
would have been a long boat trip, I had hoped that we would go that way. There are 40 of us in our group.
The porter has made up my berth, so I’ve decided to go to bed.
On the Train; Halifax, N.S., Wednesday, Oct. 1, 1941 - I woke up this morning with a severe
headache. I didn’t eat any breakfast, but had a good dinner. In addition to our small group, this train is full of
military personnel. There are many pilots and crewmembers who are going to Halifax to embark. At suppertime, I still had a bad headache, so I just ate a bowl of soup. I need some aspirin, but have no way to get it.
Later, when we arrived in Halifax, we loaded on army trucks and went to the military post and were assigned
to barracks. I have had a hot shower and it’s nearly time for the lights to go out, so I’m going to bed.
The #1 "Y" Depot
Halifax, Nova Scotia, Thursday, Oct. 2, 1941 - Today is the day my resignation from my job at
WVR becomes effective, as I had some unused vacation days. I was on two payrolls for a while. As of today,
I no longer work for the U.S. government. I sometimes wonder why I quit such a good job, but I can’t look
back. The food here is pretty good, better than at Montreal. After breakfast, we went to the drill grounds and
drilled with the RAF and RCAF men. There were some drill sergeants who yelled a lot of orders that I’ve
never even heard before. The one drilling our group quickly learned that, due to our ignorance, there would
always be a random response to his some of his orders. Fortunately, he had a good sense of humor, and after
that he just herded us around with soft-spoken plain English commands. We surely did look sloppy compared
to those crack troops!
After supper, I went down and rode the ferry across the harbour to Dartmouth and back. There are
many ships, both cargo and military, in the inner harbour (Bedford Basin). The ferry fare was only seven
cents. After seeing a show, I rode one of the little dinky trolleys back to the post. Instead of having a wheel
carriage at each end of a relatively long car, the car is very short and rests on a single wheel carriage. The resulting short wheel-base causes the car to pitch and rotate with a jerky motion as it runs down the track. It
reminded me of riding a horse on uneven ground. I wrote some postcards and made up my bunk. Here, the
blankets are folded in the morning, and the bed is made up at bedtime. Even the way they make up the bed is
different. We may leave tomorrow.
Oct. 3, 1941 - After breakfast we had another drill on the parade grounds. After the marching drill,
we had a respirator drill, during which we entered a gas chamber. Tear gas was being used. We took off our
masks just before leaving to get a short exposure to the gas. My eyes burned all morning! This evening, I
went down town and bought some things that I believe will be needed in England. I also bought a standard
military foot-locker to hold my stuff. A foot-locker is a small metal trunk with a lock, and it is typically
placed at the foot of the bunk in military barracks. It is strongly built to survive rough treatment during shipment, and has strap handles to make it easier to carry. The kit bag that was issued to me will be useful only
for soft items like clothing that are not be easily damaged when the bag is roughly handled. This one should
serve me well. Tonight, I went to the movie on the post, which was free. "Last of the Mohicans" was playing.
After the show, they played "God Save the King", and everybody stood at attention. We all hope to sail tomorrow. However, I have my doubts. I have learned that nothing is certain.
Oct. 4, 1941 - At parade this morning, they said that our boat is in the harbour and we would board
ship on Monday. If we are civilians, I would hate to be a soldier! After parade, our drill sergeant took us on a
long, rather fast, cross-country march that lasted about three hours. We marched with very little formality in a
very scenic area overlooking Bedford Basin. I really enjoyed it, but some of our men who are not used to exercise were really wiped out. This afternoon, I went down town again. Now that I have my foot-locker, I can
buy a few more things that I will need in England. This is probably my last chance. This post is just an em-
18
barkation point, and the airmen, who number about 1,000 at present, are mostly pilots and aircrew personnel.
I understand that this is not the only post of this kind in this area. Most of the personnel here are from Canada.
However, there were many from Australia, New Zealand and Great Britain who had been in Canada for training. Men leave every few days, and approximately the same number arrive, which keeps the population of the
post almost constant. Many of the people who leave board ships while they wait for a convoy to build. I hope
we don’t spend much time waiting to sail. Because of the number of ships here, there are many sailors on the
streets of Halifax.
Oct. 5, 1941 - Today at 10 AM we had “church parade”. They divided us up according to religion
and marched us to the nearest church of each respective religion. There were only a few Baptists, and the majority of them were from Australia and New Zealand. Later, I wanted to go to the show, but it is raining, so I
wrote some letters instead. I have hopes of boarding ship tomorrow, but will not believe it until I am aboard.
Oct. 6, 1941 - This morning we had rifle practice, and fired 25 rounds with a .30 cal. rifle. I made 96
out of a possible 125 at 25 yards. The bull’s eye counted 5 points. I can’t march as well as the airmen, but
because of years of squirrel hunting, my score was much better than most of them. This evening, we went for
a long march around the town. We marched quick time for two hours, so it must have been about 7 or 8 miles.
It still didn’t bother me much, but it was rough on some of the older CTC men who had not yet recovered
from our last march. At 10 pm, we lined up for pay parade. The line was so long that it was after midnight
when I went through, and I was in the middle of the line. The crowded canteen stayed open all night, and I
bought a few last minute things that I needed and packed my belongings to make ready to sail tomorrow.
Aboard the HMTS Andes
Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1941 - This morning after breakfast, we loaded our baggage onto trucks, and then
lined up and marched to the ship. We had a military band, and many people lined the streets. It is amazing to
me that even after the citizens have witnessed men marching to the ships many, many times before, there are
still those who turn out to watch and wave. For some reason, one of our members did not board with us, so
our group now numbers 39. I think we may sail tomorrow. Our ship is the HMTS Andes, a large luxury type
passenger liner. HMTS stands for “His Majesty’s Troop Ship". Since it is carrying about 5 or 6 times the
normal number of passengers, it is very crowded. There are typically about 8 men to each stateroom, and each
stateroom typically has several double bunks and a separate bathroom. There are not enough bunks, so sleeping is done in shifts. I’m told that there are approximately 3,000 soldiers and airmen on this ship. We were
told that the ship is rated at 27,800 tons. The two meals I’ve had were not very good, but were actually better
than I had expected. We understand that we are rated as sergeants and are assigned to eat in the noncommissioned officer’s mess. We also have access to the sergeants’ canteen.
Aboard the HMTS Andes, Halifax Harbour, Wednesday, Oct. 8, 1941 - We didn’t sail today as
we had expected. We sleep in shifts, and fortunately, I’ve been assigned to sleep at night in a top bunk. I slept
rather well last night in spite of the absence of springs and the small size of the bunk. The main problem is
that those who don’t have a bunk at any given time sit around on the edge of the lower bunks talking loudly
with the lights on. The HMTS Andes built as a first class passenger liner, but it was never used as such. The
British military has used it as a troop transport ever since it was launched in 1939. We had lifeboat drill this
morning. There is no way that all of the men assigned to the lifeboats could get in them. However, there are
also large life rafts that men can climb aboard after jumping into the water. I’m told that if a ship is hit by a
torpedo, the convoy does not wait around to pick up survivors.
This evening, I went to Halifax using a pass that a sailor got for me. He charged me fifty cents for it. He had a
stack of them, and I believe he forged the Captain’s signature. I went to the "Green Lantern", which is a fine
seafood restaurant. I like seafood, but got a steak supper as I have heard that we will not get beef in Britain.
At a bookstore, I bought an "ARRL Radio Handbook", which contains a lot of technical information that
should be helpful. A sailor said that we would sail tomorrow about noon. They apparently know everything,
and are far more reliable than official announcements.
19
First day at sea, Thursday, Oct. 9, 1941 - This harbour has more activity than any place I’ve ever
been. This morning, there are several large troop transports in the harbour (British spelling). Our ship and
another one are tied up to the pier. All of the ships appear to be loaded and ready to leave. There are launches
running around the harbour and some tugboats are standing by. At 3 PM, the lifeboat drill bell sounded and
we went to our positions on E deck. While we were there, some tugs came and pulled us away from the pier.
We headed straight out to sea at a fast speed. Before long we joined with other fast troop ships and formed a
convoy. In front and on both sides of the convoy destroyer escorts took their places. About 5:00 PM, the portholes were blacked out. After dark, I went up on deck and the other ships could hardly be seen. Not a light
was showing. It was very windy and cold so I went below. Our journey has begun!
Second day at sea, Friday, Oct. 10, 1941 - I slept well last night. The sea was rather calm, which
made it a good night for sleeping, and also for submarine action. I understand that a troop ship’s best defense
against submarines is its speed and the zigzag course that it sails when in the most dangerous waters. It is
about twice as fast as a merchant ship, and considerably faster than a submarine. At noon, we were about 250
miles out of Halifax. This evening, the battle alarm sounded, and everybody had to clear the decks except for
the men manning the machine guns and cannons. It was just a drill, but it could soon be the real thing. Later,
we had lifeboat drill, and the boats were lowered to the E deck. The officers and NCOs who were in charge of
the stations carried side arms, which in an emergency could be used to maintain order. Although I went
straight to the station, there were already far more people there than the lifeboat would hold. The life rafts,
and the thought of jumping into the frigid water, offer little consolation. In addition to 20 mm. machine gun
turrets on the ship, many of the rails have large caliber machine guns mounted on them, and men standing
continuous watch. Some planes, probably from Newfoundland, circled over the convoy this PM. Tonight, I
again went out on deck, but it was so cold that I couldn’t stay. I’m experiencing my first exposure to English
money, which is used at the canteen. It is a quaint and ancient system of pounds, shillings, and pence, but not
difficult to use after a little practice. I find it fun.
Third day at sea, Saturday, Oct. 11, 1941 - The sea was rough this morning when I woke up, and
has become rougher all day. Two more destroyers have joined the convoy, making a total of six destroyers
and six troop ships and a British Navy vessel that is traveling with us.
The sailors have circulated the following list of the ships in the convoy was circulated:
HMTS Andes (our ship)
HMTS Aorangi
HMTS Queen of the Pacific
HMS Forth (a sub parent)
HMTS Cape Town Castle
HMTS Monarch of Bermuda
HMTS Warwick Castle
Plus about six destroyers.
Note (Information courtesy of Bill Orr, K5SYP, 17 June 01): The HMT Andes was built in 1939
by Harland & Wolff, Belfast (where the Titanic was built) for the Royal Mail Lines, Ltd., and was classified
as "Passenger/General Cargo”. It was immediately converted to a troop ship. The propulsion machinery was
steam turbines driving twin screws. As built, it was rated for 349 1st. class and 204 2nd. class passengers. She
was 25,689 GRT and 10,257 DWT. LOA was 669' 4", the beam was 83" and the draft was 29' 3". Service
speed was 21 knots. After the war, she was returned to commercial service in Jan. 1948. The Warwick Castle
was sunk near Gibraltar in Nov. 1942. It was sailing light, having just discharged its load of men to take part
in the invasion of North Africa. End Note.
It was far too windy and cold to stay on deck, and the ship is pitching and rolling so much that it is
even hard to stay in the bed, if one can find an empty one. At noon, we were about 600 miles out of Halifax.
The convoy is not plying a straight course, but is zigzagging. The destroyers stay in front of the convoy, but
to do that, they have to reposition themselves following every course change in order to again be at their stations ahead of the convoy. We don’t have to worry about submarines coming up from behind, as we are too
fast. Anyone jumping into the cold water wouldn’t last long. Strangely, the situation doesn’t seem very scary
to me, and I haven’t heard anyone expressing much concern over their safety.
20
Fourth Day at Sea, Sunday, Oct. 12, 1941 - The sea is very rough today, and many men are seasick.
Some have been seasick for the past two days. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have a problem with seasickness.
The food gets a little worse every day. There is practically no sugar in the tea. The sailors tell me that we can
expect the same, or worse, in Britain. At noon we were 960 miles out of Halifax. The sea is so rough that we
don’t have to worry about submarines. We must be much further north than the regular shipping lanes. Two
officers are in the brig for smoking on the deck after the blackout hour. It is so cold that very few people venture out on deck. We have been advised to stay in our clothing, but most don’t. The lifeboats would be full
before the lifeboats got down to my emergency station anyway. I stay in a bunk reading as much as I can because the rough sea makes it hard to walk. In spite of the ship’s motion, some of the fellows in our stateroom
manage to engage in a card game. In fact, they manage to do it all day. I can’t stand playing cards.
Fifth Day at Sea, Monday, Oct. 13, 1941 - The sea is still very rough. I guess it will be this way
from now on. The convoy is now well into the most dangerous area. We are as well protected from submarines as possible, but I suppose there is always a chance. I spend most of my time reading. The continuous
motion is getting very monotonous. At noon, we were 1,300 miles out of Halifax. This evening, I was awakened by the sound of many machine guns shooting. I thought at first that it must be an attack, but it was only
a drill. Apparently they were shooting down into the water.
Both fresh water and salt water are available in the tub in the bathroom, but we have been instructed
not to bath every day. We are to use salt water to bathe and only rinse off with fresh water. Since the tub is
not used for bathing during the night, one man claimed the tub for his bunk. Good thinking! It is very hard,
but he doesn’t have to worry about rolling out of the bunk. Those of us who are in the same stateroom have
gotten to know each other pretty well. Some play cards most of the time, shooting loud senseless bull at the
same time. It runs me crazy! Others talk quietly or read. A couple of the men in our stateroom have studied
math and science in college, and some of us bounce technical questions off them. One of the men had originally been from Liverpool, England, and he has described the country to us and has given us some insight
into the British culture.
When wandering around the ship, I have marveled at the quality of the woodwork, décor, and other
things that were intended to please the peacetime passengers for whom the ship was built. Often, when we go
to the mess, the line is so long that it is discouraging. We discovered that the Sergeant’s Slop Chest (or canteen) has a fair stock of things we can eat, like boxes of cookies, some canned goods, and some candy. It is
rather expensive, and I believe that the sailors who are running it are overcharging us. For one thing, the prices seem to vary depending on who is behind the counter, or in front of the counter. Even so, the line at the
slop chest is often quite long. One thing I like is the ginger beer. It is like our ginger ale, but is made with real, hot ginger. British cigarettes are available in the slop chest. I have bought a supply, as they will be difficult
to get in Britain. However, I am a very light smoker.
Today, when I entered the Sergeant’s Mess, there was a most wonderful smell. The sign said that curried rice with chicken wings were on the menu. This was the first time that I had ever smelled curry. I got a
large helping of rice with a yellow sauce on it. The chicken wings were so few that not one in ten got one, but
the curried rice was so delicious I got in line for a second helping. I think I could eat that every day even if I
never got a chicken wing.
Sixth Day at Sea, Tuesday, Oct. 14, 1941 - We learned that we are well over halfway to our destination. At noon today, we were 1,643 miles out of Halifax. Generally speaking, the food situation is deteriorating. We often don’t get tea because they claim a shortage of cups. That’s a mystery to me. There were plenty
of cups the first few days. What could have happened to them? Maybe that’s the way they ration tea. I’m
about to get used to the rolling and pitching of the ship. I estimate we could arrive at Glasgow about Friday
evening, provided we remain afloat. The remainder of the trip is the most dangerous part. Tonight at midnight, we go on London time. I’m a long, long way from Alabama and I wonder how long it will be before I
get back home.
21
Seventh Day at Sea, Wednesday, Oct. 15, 1941 - The food has become so poor that I didn’t eat breakfast or
lunch in the ship’s mess, but bought canned goods at the canteen. Many others are doing the same, so there is
a very long queue. The canteen has few choices, but seems to have a large quantity of what it has. This makes
me believe that this situation does not come as a surprise to them. There are many officers among the passengers, and they have their own mess. I can’t help but wonder how well they are eating. I would bet that they
aren’t eating canteen food. Some of the sailors say we should arrive either in Liverpool or Glasgow on Friday.
We had an alarm today, but it must have been just a drill. This evening some planes came out and began to
circle the convoy. At noon today, we were 2,006 miles out of Halifax. Note: On this date, Oct 15, 19 CTC
men were lost when their ship, the “Vancouver Island”, was sunk with no survivors by a German submarine.
Their convoy was in the same general area as ours. We were notified about it on Nov. 7th. End note.
Eighth Day at Sea, Thursday, Oct. 16 This morning, we had a swarm of airplanes with us. Also we have picked up some additional destroyers. This must be a very dangerous area. Today at noon, we were 2,400 miles out of Halifax, and getting
near our destination. At 5 PM, we sighted mountains off the starboard bow, which I took to be Ireland. Just
before dark, mountains could be seen on the horizon on both sides. The big mountains seemed to reach to the
sea. We are now is the Irish Sea. It is rumored that we will arrive on Friday morning about 7 AM. We are
now on London Time, which is two hours daylight saving (later than Greenwich Mean Time.)
Arrival at Liverpool, England!
Ninth Day Out, Friday, Oct. 17, 1941 - All last night the going was quite smooth, which was a
welcomed change. This morning we entered the mouth of the Mersey River. Along the river were many facilities for unloading ships, and many of these facilities had been badly bombed. At 1 PM, we dropped anchor in
Liverpool harbour. Several ships are sunk in the harbor, and some buildings on the waterfront show bomb
damage. All around are large balloons tied by long cables to the land and to buoys in the harbor. These are
called barrage balloons, and are to prevent low flying aircraft. They are dull silver in color, and look like large
sausages floating in the sky. I understand we may leave here Sunday morning.
Tenth Day, On the HMTS Andes in Liverpool Harbour, Saturday, Oct. 18, 1941 - Due to the
noise accompanying a gambling game in the adjacent stateroom last night, I didn’t go to sleep until almost
morning. It has been windy and rainy all day, so I stayed inside and read. The view outside is dismal – really,
really, dismal. This evening, a RAF officer assembled us (CTC) in the Officer’s Lounge and told us we would
leave the ship at 8:30 AM tomorrow. I was really impressed with the Officers Lounge. Some of the original
furnishings had apparently been left there because it looked quite plush, spacious, and comfortable -- quite
different from our crowded staterooms with no place to sit. Many of the buildings we can see have been
bombed. I expect we will see more of it tomorrow. The automobiles we can see from the ship look peculiar
with the controls on the right hand side and driving on the left side of the road.
Shortly after we had dropped anchor, a military launch came alongside, and the CTC man who had
lived in England managed to get a ride to shore. He wanted to get ashore so that he could spend a few hours
with members of his family who live in Liverpool. He had told us that he could catch a bus in front of the
"Liver Building" that would quickly take him where he wanted to go. The Liver Building is a large building
at the water’s edge not far from our ship, and it has somehow escaped serious visible damage. There is a large
pier in front of the building, and the launch is based at the pier. He told us that the building is a Liverpool
landmark, and has some large stone birds on top that are called "Liver birds"
Note (April 2000): In 1983, my wife, Peggy, and I left from and returned to that same pier when we
went by ship to the Isle of Man. The Liver Building was still there. End note.
22
Train trip from Liverpool to Bournemouth
On train, Liverpool to Bournemouth, Hants. Sunday, Oct. 19, 1941 - We finished breakfast about
7 AM and were taken by a harbour boat to the pier near the Liver Building, and from there we marched to the
Lime Street train station to catch the train. We got our first look at some of the extreme damage that Liverpool had received from the bombings. We understand that air raids on Liverpool and still taking place.
The train departed at 8:30 AM. At first, we passed through towns where many buildings were destroyed, but
when we got to the country towns, there were only a few evidences of bombing. I have never before seen
such beautiful country. The land is rolling hills, with bright green grass and with small streams flowing between the hills. There are many hedgerows and stone walls dividing the land. The only noticeable objection is
that many of the homes in the towns look alike, and often share common walls with their neighbors. There is
far more open country than I had expected.
I was surprised by the small size of the British locomotives and rolling stock. The gauge of the track
is also smaller than is used in the United States. Our train had a number of military passengers, traveling as a
group, but each of us was each given tickets. It was a regularly scheduled train that departed the station on
time. I’m told that train travel in Britain is quite reliable in spite of the war. The passenger cars in which we
rode had small cabins along one side of the car. Each cabin had two seats facing each other, and each seat
held three or four people. It reminded me of riding in a stage coach. A door opened to a hall (companionway),
which ran down the length of the other side of the car. The train was crowded, and some who could not find
seats stood in the companionway. A conductor came through the train and checked our tickets. The car was
well made with much woodwork that appeared to be mahogany. The train whistle was very shrill compared to
ours. After a most interesting trip, we arrived in Bournemouth, Hampshire, about 7 PM. We were taken to our
quarters at Henley Court, a small private hotel that has been taken over by the government. The CTC has its
small headquarters nearby in a similar small hotel, the Eglan Court Hotel. The British abbreviation for Hampshire is "Hants." I don't get it - Hampshire has no “n” and no “t”.
Note (April 2000): Before my stay in the British Isle was over, I would do much traveling by train,
sometimes under very crowded conditions. I well remember that in spite of the difficulties, the trains ran pretty much on schedule during the war. However, when under an air raid alert, the trains would go very slowly.
Bournemouth has a very moderate climate and is one of Britains favorite vacation spots; however, there was
little vacationing at Bournemouth during the war. Most of the vacation hotels were being used for war related
purposes. Bournemouth is located on the English Channel about 30 miles SW of Southampton, and is about
20 miles east of the Isle of Wight, another vacation spot. Bournemouth, like other coastal towns, had received
a substantial amount of damage from bombing. In 1983, Peggy and I spent two wonderful weeks on the Isle
of Wight. The climate was good, the scenery spectacular, and there was much to see of historical interest.
End note.
Henley Court Hotel, Bournemouth, Hampshire, England, Monday, Oct. 20, 1941 - We had to attend to many technicalities this morning and afternoon. The food here is different, but so far is better than
Montreal, Halifax, or the Andes. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon, we have "tea", which consists of hot tea with a
bite to eat. In this case, the word "tea" is the name of the small afternoon meal. The concept of eating 4 meals
a day is new to me and seems unnecessary. This evening before supper, some of us went downtown and saw a
small part of the city. The down town part of the city shows a considerable amount of bomb damage, but less
than I would have expected considering the location of Bournemouth. The policemen here direct traffic by
motioning and without all of the whistle-blowing and shouting that occurs in the States. It seems far more
civilized. At home, mostly children ride bicycles, but here it seems that almost everybody has one. Even older
people ride them. Many women are in uniform, and women are also serving as tramway conductors, etc. I
went down town tonight but it was so dark due to the blackout that I had to come back without doing anything.
23
Bournemouth, Tuesday, Oct. 21, 1941 - This morning, we marched to a place where we were issued our respirators and steel helmets. In another building, we listened to a lecture on poison gas. After that,
we went into a gas chamber, where we tested our masks. A little while after returning to the hotel, we had an
air raid alarm. No planes came over, and the all clear sounded after about 15 minutes. This evening, we went
to Eglan Court Hotel, another hotel similar to ours, where the CTC headquarters is located. There, we listened
to a brief lecture by our commandant, Mr. Gill, on what we can expect and what is expected of us here in
England. It was not very informative. Tonight, I went to town and saw "Fantasia" at the Regent. One peculiar
thing about the theatres is that people smoke in them. I have never seen that in the U.S. The ventilation is
poor, and the smoke is really objectionable and burned my eyes and throat. Also, the most expensive seats are
in the balcony. Finding our way back home was difficult as it was a very dark night.
Wednesday, Oct. 22, 1941 - We marched down to the Pavilion to rehearse a parade we are giving
tomorrow for some high officials. The RAF, RNZAF, RAAF, RCAF, American Eagle Squadron, United
States Signal Corps Detachment, and the CTC will parade. I’m using the British usage of the word parade,
which means that we will line up in a formation where we can be reviewed. Tonight, I went down town to a
service club, where I listened to a service man playing a piano. He was as good as anyone I’ve ever heard,
and I really enjoyed it. Later, I went to a pub in the Metropol Hotel and had a beer. It was room temperature. I
noticed that many of the women were in uniform. I talked to one in the Women's Auxilliary Air Force
(WAAF), who said that she had been drafted, but she liked it. I returned to Henley Court, where I talked to
Walter Lessard, who has just arrived from Montreal. Note (April 2000): Much later, someone told me that a
direct bomb hit had wiped out the Metropol hotel. I believe it was the main hotel in Bournemouth. End note.
The King and Queen!
Thursday, Oct. 23, 1941 - This afternoon about 3:30, our group of 102 CTC men marched to the Pavilion, where the several hundred men from abroad stationed in Bournemouth, including us, assembled to be
greeted by King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. There were many newsmen here, along with photographers
and newsreel men. There were also many policemen and military police. Our Commandant, Mr. Gill, told us
that we would give a much better impression of the CTC if we would stand at attention, face straight ahead,
and give a short, quick answer to any questions asked.
The King and Queen were driven to the scene with a police escort that used no sirens or lights, so as
not to attract attention. However, some of the public must have known what was to happen because there
were many people observing from the windows across the street from the Pavilion. We stood at attention as
the King, accompanied by Wing Commander K.E. Parks, who was Commander of the Bournemouth CTC
Reception Center, and Mr. Donald Gill, who was our CTC Commandant, walked down our ranks and talked
with several of the CTC men. He talked with the man standing directly in front of me. The King was dressed
in his RAF uniform with pilot’s wings. The Queen, accompanied by another officer, walked a short distance
behind the King, and also spoke with men not spoken to by the King. She was dressed in a blue dress and carried her coat on her arm, despite the fact that the weather was rather cold. Both the King and Queen were very
pleasant, and I’m certain that their conversations with service people do much to help morale. When we were
dismissed, everybody broke ranks and crowded around the King and Queen and gave three cheers as they
entered their car. That was quite an experience for a boy from Letohatchie, Alabama! We were told that a
photographer would visit our headquarters tomorrow to offer for sale a souvenir photograph of the event.
24
#24 -- King George VI and Queen Elizabeth r eview the CTC at Bournem outh
Friday, Oct. 24, 1941 - After roll call, I took my new uniform to the tailor to be fitted. Douglas and I
went by the bookstore and bought some books. I got books on French, Algebra, and Trigonometry. I expect to
spend a lot of my spare time studying them. Douglas has a degree in math, and bought a book on Einstein’s
Theory of Relativity. Because of the war, the books are rather poorly printed and bound. The Bournemouth
Pavilion sits on a high bluff, with the back overlooking the beach below and the English Channel. In front is
the large paved area where we were reviewed by the King and Queen yesterday. This evening, Douglas and I
went down to the beach below the Pavilion. All along the beach are barbed wire entanglements and large iron
and concrete tank barriers to slow down any invasion forces. Many of the windows were out of the buildings
in that vicinity because of a land mine that had fallen on the beach. We heard that some pine trees that were
growing along the base of the bluff were blown up the bluff and deposited on the roof of the Pavilion building. We had two air raid alarms today, but we saw no planes over Bournemouth.
Saturday, Oct. 25, 1941 - We had nothing scheduled until roll call, and had not been given a time to
get up, so I slept a little late this morning. I was awakened when a RAF officer came in to inspect the room,
which I share with several others. He really looked peeved and disgusted, but didn’t say anything. After roll
call, I went down town with Douglas and bought another book. On the way back, we were lucky to find some
cakes at a bakery. Because of the sugar shortage, there is practically no sugar in the pastries, but when you
can find them they taste good anyway. Our meals are edible and sufficient, but strange. Breakfast has consisted mostly of thin porridge (oatmeal). The bread here is dark, heavy, and made of several grains. It smells like
cow feed and tastes like it smells. Vegetables, mostly cabbage, are cooked, and cooked, until they become
mushy. No meat of any kind yet.
25
I studied trigonometry all morning because I understand that the radio course we will be taking will
require knowledge of algebra and trigonometry. I’m about to get used to walking around in the blackout. A
cigarette helps to keep people from bumping into you. The man in our group that we had left in Halifax arrived yesterday, but he didn’t say why he did not board the ship with us. Their convoy was attacked several
times, and one ship was damaged and four men were killed. (Not CTC men.)
Sunday, Oct. 26, 1941 - Most of my day was spent studying algebra and trigonometry. I had a semester of algebra in high school, but no trig. There is a rumor that we will leave about Wednesday of next
week. A lot of CTC men are coming in and there soon won’t be any place to put them if some of us are not
sent out. We are already occupying three small hotels, and I hear that one more must be obtained. This town
is composed almost entirely of small hotels, as it is a major summer resort town. The British Army, RAF,
WAAF, and CTC are now occupying most of them. Also, part of the Metropol, the town’s best, has been taken over. Today we had two air raid alarms and planes flew overhead at a high altitude, but no bombs were
dropped here. We will have parade at 9:30 AM tomorrow.
Monday, Oct. 27, 1941 - At parade, the radiomen were told that we would go to a radiolocation
school at Cranwell, Lincolnshire. Cranwell is a major RAF training station. I spent most of today packing my
belongings and getting ready. I had to get my uniform from the tailor. We had pay parade, at which we drew
two pounds each. The exchange rate is 1 pound equals $4.02. Our records have not arrived, so that was only
an advance pending their receipt. Nearly everybody here is being sent out in order to make room for new men
coming in. I'm told that many of the men here are radio men, as that is where the recruiting emphasis was
placed. We are all going to Cranwell. The mechanics, welders, etc., are going out immediately to duty posts.
We arrive at the Radiolocation School in Cranwell, Lincs.
The Trip to Grantham, Lincolnshire, Tuesday, Oct. 28, 1941 - We marched to the Bournemouth
train station and left about 11 AM. We went through Southampton, which had a large number of barrage balloons around it. I saw the worse bombing damage that I had seen as yet, except for what I saw later on today
in London. After we got off the train at Waterloo station in London, I saw the Tower Bridge, "Big Ben", and
the Houses of Parliament from a distance. We marched to King Cross station and caught the train to Grantham, which is not far from Cranwell. The train to Grantham was extremely crowded. The train even had two
box cars in it that were full of soldiers. We were quite hungry, but were unable to get anything to eat on the
train. We had not had any food since breakfast. We were met by lorries at Grantham, and transported to RAF
Cranwell, a distance of about 12 miles. We had supper and were assigned to a small standard, military barracks, which they call a "hut". There are a very large number of such huts here.
#1 Radiolocation School, Cranwell, Lincs., Wednesday, Oct. 29, 1941 - There is a very large military training airport here, and I understand that there are about 15,000 airmen in training. In addition, there
are about 1,000 women in the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF). We were shown our school building,
which has a hole in the roof made by an incendiary bomb, which fell recently but did not ignite. There are
many planes here and they are continuously flying overhead. We had a snow storm this evening, and the
ground was covered, but it quickly melted. Later this evening, we had a sleet storm. Tonight, I went to the
NAAFI (Navy, Army, Air Force, Institute), which is a kind of military canteen. I understand that all military
installations of any size have a NAAFI. I got something to eat, and talked with a Dutchman who is in the
RAF school here. He used to live a few miles from Germany.
First Classes. Thursday, Oct. 30, 1941 - We were awakened this morning by a "gas alert" signal.
Everybody put on their gas capes and helmets, and carried their respirators in the slung position so they could
be put on immediately. Our course of instruction has not officially begun, but we will be given some instruction in the meantime. With our gas equipment at the ready, we went to breakfast, and then to the classroom.
We were a strange looking group of students. About 10 AM, we heard the "gas" signal, which indicates the
presence of gas. We immediately put on our respirators and ran to the underground bomb shelters. We sat in
the bomb shelter for about an hour and a half with our gas capes, steel helmets, and respirators on. It was very
26
close in the shelter and with the gas cape on, I began to sweat. Soon, I became nauseated and felt like I was
being smothered. I fought the feeling, but came very close to taking the gas mask off as it was only a drill.
After what seemed like an eternity, the "all clear" signal sounded and we returned to class. For some reason,
we were given the afternoon off, so very little instruction was received today. The RAF officers with whom I
have come in contact seem pompous and aloof, quite unlike the many American officers I have known.
Friday, Oct. 31, 1941 - We went to the school this morning, and after some discussion, we were taken to the laboratory, where we were given some instruction in the operation of some of the servicing equipment. I was already quite familiar with that, but the instruments were somewhat different. This evening, we
were given an advancement of one pound, which I didn’t need. Some of the men are broke. After this, we
returned to school and were given a lecture on general radio theory. After supper, I talked with Louis Davis
about cathode ray tubes, which are used in the both the RDF service equipment and the RDF operational
equipment that we will study. One of our men has a semi-automatic telegraph key (bug) and buzzer, and I
enjoyed sending some fast Morse code. I haven’t had time to get rusty. We two are the only experienced telegraphers in our group.
Saturday, Nov. 1, 1941 - We went to class at 9 AM and after a lecture, we were taken to the laboratory to study cathode ray tubes and their uses. I'm familiar with cathode ray tubes, but these were larger that
the ones I had previously seen. While we were there, Air Commodore Probyn, who is the Commanding Officer of RAF Cranwell, came in and told us that he had inspected our quarters and was sorry that we should
have to live in such accommodations, but that it was the best he could do. He said that he was giving orders
that we are to be allowed an extra ration of coal. I guess we should consider that a real honour (British
spelling), but I doubt that we will actually get it. My laundry that I had to leave in Bournemouth has not yet
arrived, so I’m about out of clean clothes. I understand that this course is going to be very difficult.
Sunday, Nov. 2, 1941 - I had little to do today, so I studied algebra all morning. After dinner, Thomas and I went to the airport to try to bum a short airplane ride. At first we couldn’t get a chute, so we had to
wait until nearly 4 PM. Thomas finally went aboard a bomber and was taken for a short ride around the area.
The aircraft had an accident upon landing, and the tail assembly was considerably damaged. He was not hurt.
Due to the delay, I didn’t have time to fly. We just did make it back for tea, which is at 4:30 PM every evening. As far as I’m concerned, they could skip the tea if they would give us a little more to eat at the evening
meal. In the late evenings, we sit as close as we can get to the small pot-bellied stove in our hut. We can use
only one small lump of coal at a time, because we will not be able to get more. We argue a lot, but we also
spend time discussing the course material or radio in general. When we begin studying the actual equipment,
we won't be allowed to keep notes. The men who have been radio servicemen tell about their experiences and
argue with each other about the merits and demerits of different makes and designs of equipment. I’ve decided that it is far more productive to study my class notes, because the test questions will undoubtedly be taken
directly from the lectures.
Monday, Nov. 3, 1941 - We went to class at 9 AM and had a short lecture. After that, we had some
photos made for publicity purposes. All of us who were radio amateurs were told to go outside for a group
photo. Note: The following photo appeared in the January 1942, edition of QST, along with a short recruiting
pitch for the CTC. The January issue of QST was printed in December 1941, and the CTC had probably
stopped recruiting after Dec. 7, 1940.End note.
27
#94 -- CTC Radio Am ateurs at RDF School, Cranwell, Lincs: Left to right, front row:
Campbell (W0TOQ), Lessard (W1FFL), Baker (W5CBZ), Tallman (W1JTI), Gould (ex-W1BVF). Back
row: Davis (W9VVW), Turner (W9OIR), Ingraham (ex-W8CGE), Farrior (W4FOK), Wright (W9UYA)
Note (July. 2001): The only CTC member in the above photo with whom I’m still in contact is Hal
Wright, who is standing beside me, to my left. The QST article in which the above photo appeared said:
"Many American civilians are serving as noncombatant technical experts with the British as members of the
Civilian Technical Corps, the radio portion of which work is concerned principally with the maintenance of
secret locator gear. Here is an official British Ministry of Information photo just received in this country by
air, showing some American hams of the CTC who are now receiving instructions at an RAF radio school
somewhere in England." End note.
(Note Mar. 2002): - On Oct 3, 1983, my Aunt Grace Bryan, my mother’s sister, gave me from her
scrapbook the newspaper clipping below. I had never seen it before. The photo was taken at the same time as
the QST photo above. My head can be seen between Campbell and Lessard. A CTC man is taking down our
names and call signs. The arrow pointing to my head appeared on the original newspaper photo. The CTC
must have sent the photo to the "Atlanta Constitution" as follow-up publicity to the article and photo that had
appeared in that paper when I left Atlanta. End note.
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#96 -- Atlanta Constitution photo
This afternoon, we had another lecture on
cathode ray tubes and their construction and use.
At 4:30 PM, we went to tea, which was one of the
best meals I have had since I’ve been here. Tonight, we walked to the cinema and saw "Road to
Zanzibar" with Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, and Dorothy Lamour. I had seen it before in Atlanta. One of
our men has a small radio, and after returning from
the cinema, we listened to "Lord Haw-Haw" from
Berlin. It is really comical. According to his propaganda, we don’t have a chance. I believe he is
wrong. The Sergeant in charge of our hut, who at
first was very harsh with us, said that normally a
radio is not allowed in RAF huts, but he would let
it remain as a favor to us. I think the only reason is
that he spends a considerable amount of time listening to it, especially when we are in class.
Tuesday, Nov. 4, 1941 - It seems that we
can’t get the school going strong before it’s time
for tea. I estimate that this post consumes about
5,000 gallons of tea daily. We have tea in the middle of the mornings and at 4:30 PM, in addition to
regular meals. Even though it has no sugar in it,
and sometimes scarcely resembles tea, many drink
more than one cup each time. At least it warms us
up for a moment. There are a number of women
here who belong to the WAAF, and ATS. Their
uniform is similar to the RAF, except that they
have skirts and a different cap. Among our CTC
men, we have some college graduates who know
radio theory and math so well that it will be extremely difficult to keep up with them in the radio
school. However, some of them don’t appear to be
studying hard, which gives a bad impression.
Wednesday, Nov. 5, 1941 - We spent our time in class today discussing aerial (antenna) arrays.
Since I left my laundry in Bournemouth, I have no clean clothes. We will have a clothing parade in a day or
so and I hope to get some more then. I spent most of the night revamping a suit of underwear, which was 46,
and I wear 32. I bought a small book today on the oscilloscope, which will help me very much with the
course. I’m getting more accustomed to the cold weather, but it will get much colder. We were told that a
very high official would inspect us tomorrow.
Thursday, Nov. 6, 1941 - Some of the men who were bunking in this hut were moved out. It is much
quieter now, and we are better able to study. Getting close to the little stove is not quite as difficult. We spend
a lot of time talking with the RAF men. They came from all over the world. Almost every country in the British Empire is represented as well as many other countries. There are some Americans here who are in the
RAF, but not many as there is no American Eagle detachment. Most of the Americans here are U.S. Army
Signal Corps Lieutenants, CTC men, and a group of men from MIT. They are taking pretty much the same
29
course that we are taking, but I understand there is less emphasis on maintenance. Our classes are getting
pretty difficult, and it is all I can do to understand some of the lectures. It is made more so due to some of the
instructors being from parts of Great Britain where English is spoken with a very pronounced regional accent.
They don’t understand us very well either. Actually, some of the most difficult things on which they place
much emphasis and spend much of the time are not very likely to be of any use in understanding or servicing
the equipment. The best service men among us are likely to have the poorest scores on the tests.
Friday, Nov. 7, 1941 - Tonight we heard unofficially that 19 CTC men had been reported lost at sea.
We did not learn their names, but that same number of men left Montreal on Sept. 23rd. and 24th. A number
of us, including myself, were originally scheduled to have been in that group, but we had to remain behind
because we didn’t yet have our uniforms or passports. I consider myself very lucky. Note: (2001) The men
were lost when the "Vancouver Island" was sunk with no survivors on Oct. 15, 1941, in a position not very
distant from where my ship was located at that time. I now know their names. The numbers ran from 81 to
103, except for 94, 99, 100 and 102. My number is 149. End note.
I got a book today on television receiving equipment. It seems like a good book. Although television
has not yet been introduced in the U.S., it was becoming rather popular in England, especially in London.
Much of the television technology in the book is very similar to what we are studying. Today we trained by
operating a Chain Home (CH) radiolocation simulator, which uses the actual receiver and display units. It
would be impossible to have the aerial towers at this airbase. I was surprised at the large size of the cathode
ray tubes. If the system works as well in actual practice as it does in training, it is a very good system.
Saturday, Nov 8, 1941 - Today we didn’t have much school, and I studied all day. This evening, I
went to Sleaford and bought some more books. I’ve now got so many books that I will have a problem taking
them with me when I leave the school. Sleaford is a small town of about 10,000 people, or perhaps a little
less. The bus runs frequently and stops at the post gate. The streets are filled with people. Most of them are in
uniform. I tried to buy an extension cord, but couldn’t find it in any of the electrical stores. I need some
clothes, but am unable to buy them because I can’t get any ration slips. It is nearly impossible to get anything
without ration slips, so I have about given up. Maybe we will have the often promised clothing parade soon.
Sunday, Nov. 9, 1941 - Today being Sunday, we have no school. I slept nearly all morning and studied nearly all afternoon. All evening, we have had some Englishmen, RAF men, in here talking with us. Their
conversations are somewhat amusing. Their slang is very different from ours. I wonder what has happened to
my mail. It seems that I must be the only person who has not received mail from home. Candy is very scarce.
We almost have a fight when someone gets some. I have heard that we will have a chocolate ration tomorrow.
Each of us is supposed to get a small bar of chocolate.
Monday, Nov. 10, 1941 - Nothing much happened today. I spend most of my time studying when
I’m not in class. Cranwell is called the "English West Point of the Air". This is where the largest air school in
England is located. The administration building is across the road from our quarters. As I expected, we didn't
get the promised chocolate ration. The food here is neither plentiful nor good. However, we do get enough to
eat, so I guess we have nothing to kick about. Tonight, I went with Louis Davis to an excellent lecture on
photography, which, next to amateur radio, has been my major hobby for several years.
Tuesday, Nov. 11, 1941 - We often get in some arguments with the RAF men. We have a sergeant
who lives with us and stays in a little room at the end of our hut. He is a loud sting character who drinks too
much. He is supposed to maintain law and order, but he often creates disorder. About his only duty is to walk
through the hut every morning yelling "wakie-wakie", which is the British wake-up call. There is a RAF LAC
(leading aircraftsman), who comes over here every night to argue. It often starts with railroads. The RAF men
say that England has the fastest trains, and that they always run on time. We argue them down saying that not
only are ours faster, but much larger. They also argue about the loud clothing that Americans wear. We counter with comments about the Scottish dress that we have seen some men wearing. However, the main subject
is airplanes. The RAF men say that our airplanes are over-rated, and that their planes are much better. It goes
30
on and on, while some of us would like to study. Note written later: As I remember it, the hut that we were
in was a brick structure wide enough for bunks with the head against the wall on either side, leaving about a
6-foot aisle thorough the middle. There were about 12 bunks along each wall. Over the aisle hung several low
wattage light bulbs. In the center of the building was a small coal burning stove and two scuttles for coal. The
Sergeant told us that normally only one scuttle of coal per day would have been provided, but we had been
given an extra scuttle by the Commanding Officer. At the location of the stove, an open space provided room
for several chairs and a couple of benches. Not all of us could get up close to the stove at one time. Obviously, the idea was not to keep the men warm, but to prevent them from freezing. We had rather heavy wool uniforms and also wool underwear, but it was often necessary to wear our heavy great coats inside the building.
It got worse as the winter progressed, but we also became more used to the cold. The British military bunks
were instruments of torture. The mattress consisted of three hard, thin "biscuits", and the pillow was a cylinder of hard-packed material in a cylindrical cloth outer sack. There were no sheets, and the thick, wool blankets were made smelly by no telling how many years of use by unbathed soldiers and airmen. There were no
springs, and narrow crisscrossed metal strips support the thin biscuits. The bed was made by placing the three
biscuits side by side to cover the metal strips, and then one blanket was placed on top of the biscuits. The biscuits were not thick enough to prevent the metal strips from being felt, and during the night, the biscuits could
become separated, allowing cold air to enter through the wool blanket. There was a nearby bathhouse, called
the "ablutions", which seemed to be kept just above freezing. We had to shave daily, but we didn’t bathe often because the water was not much warmer than the air. Strangely, there was far less vocal complaining
about the cold hut, the uncomfortable bed, the terrible tea and food, the miserable climate, the cold baths, and
the strange aspects of the unfamiliar culture than I would have expected. Most of the CTC men had never experienced conditions similar to this, but during my two years in the Civilian Conservation Corps I had experienced some that were almost as bad, except for the extreme cold. End note.
Wednesday, 12 Nov. 1941 - We spent all morning gaining operating experience on the Chain Home
radiolocation equipment. We learned how to measure range, bearings, and heights, and to plot and read grid
references. This evening, Flight Officer Jackson gave us a very interesting talk on the different types of radiolocation instruments. Tonight, I went to a dance in one of the hangars. I met several Free French airmen there.
The men greatly outnumber the women here so, in general, only those who brought a WAAF got to dance.
Our instructor informed us that King George VI might inspect us tomorrow.
The King again!
Thursday, Nov. 13, 1941 - This morning, we marched to the quartermaster building to get some
clothing, and we were issued some undershirts. Wonderful! As usual, it was raining. We spent most of the
morning getting ready for inspection by King George VI. It was made clear to us that if we had any complaints, we were to make them known through the proper channels and not to the King. I can’t picture anybody telling the King that he needs more underwear. At 3:30, we went to the lecture room and were given a
lecture on polar aerial patterns. Shortly thereafter the King arrived with Air Commodore Probyn. Any others
that may have been in his party remained outside our classroom. After the "Attention!" followed by "At
ease!" commands, the King indicated immediately that he recognized us as the group that he had inspected at
Bournemouth. He asked one of our group, Walker, how he liked England, and he answered in a weak, hoarse
voice, "It’s slightly damp." The King laughed and asked where he came from, and when Walker replied "California". The King replied, "Oh, it never rains in California?” The King was very relaxed, informal, and cordial, and apologized for any hardships that we may be experiencing under the war-time conditions. He also
expressed his appreciation for our contributions to the war effort. The King was dressed in his RAF uniform,
as was the case when he had inspected us at Bournemouth. He explained that he, too, had been in school that
morning, and that one of the reasons he was in Cranwell at that time was to receive some more flying instructions and to get in the necessary flying time required to keep the RAF wings he wore. I’m sure the King could
wear anything he wanted to wear, but it was a good line.
31
A visit to London
Cranwell & London, Friday, Nov. 14, 1941 - This is the first anniversary of the bombing of Coventry, which destroyed the old and beautiful cathedral there. That event only increased the British determination
to win the war. We were dismissed at noon, so Davis, Douglas, Cragin, and I walked out to the highway and
caught a ride to Grantham, so we could take the train to London. We caught a ride with a man who carried us
about 5 miles to another highway, where we caught another ride from there to within 4 miles of Grantham.
From there, we caught a ride to Grantham in an army truck. We arrived there just in time to catch the train to
London. The train was crowded and we stood a good part of the way. Fortunately, we were able to view some
beautiful, interesting scenery. When we arrived in London, we caught the Underground to the Leicester
Square Station. It is only a few doors from the American Eagle Club, which is located at 28 Charing Cross
Road, close to Trafalgar Square. Note written later: I had been very impressed by the state of the art of most
of the British electronic equipment that we had been studying, compared to what I had seen in the United
States. I had come from Atlanta, Ga., which had a very good public transportation system, but I could hardly
believe the London Underground System. The system consisted of deep underground tubes, which covered
essentially the entire city. At the entrance "lobby" of each station, were coin machines, which dispensed the
tickets. One then went through a turnstile and down a long escalator to the trains below. At some stations,
where the different lines intersected, there would be trains at more than one level. When changing lines, it
was not necessary to go back to the surface. The entire underground ticket area, the tunnels to the trains, and
the area where the trains arrived were tiled. It was very clean and uncluttered, except at some stations where
hundreds of bunks were placed against the walls to allow people to sleep who had been made homeless by the
air raids, or who were seeking shelter from the air raids. The system was too deep to be much affected by air
raids, so it stayed in operation during air raids unless there was a loss of electrical power. End note.
We walked the short distance to the American Eagle Club, registered, and were given our Eagle Club
membership cards. I felt really proud to have it. I had heard of the American Eagle Club before I left home,
and now I am a member! The Eagle Club facilities were very nice and in very good taste. Comfortable seats
were provided, and a quiet atmosphere was maintained. There was also a small snack bar, where members
could get a coke and a light meal. This is probably the only place in London where one can get a coke.
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#26 -- Am erican Eagl e Club -- Whether on leave or on official travel, Americans serving with the
British forces made the American Eagle Club and the associated Dorm their home away from home. Located at 28 Charing Cross Road, it was very convenient, and was well run by a friendly and cordial staff. I
always stayed there when in London, and usually met several people that I knew. This photo was taken on
a later visit to London in Nov. 1942. Shown in civilian clothes is Floyd Harkcom, a CTC man stationed at
the CH Station at Bride, I.O.M.
Just a door down Charing Cross from the Eagle Club, I saw a good photographic store named the
Westminster Photographic Exchange. Among the few cameras that were available, was a high quality Kodak
De Luxe folding camera that uses 620 film and has an F/4.5 anastigmatic lens in a Kodak Compur shutter. It
also has a delayed action shutter. The price was £9/12/6, including a fine leather case. They let me have 3
spools for film for an additional 5 shillings. It is exactly what I wanted. Such a high quality camera would
cost much more at home, so I bought it with little hesitation. I’m delighted with it and hope that finding film
will not be a problem. I’m really glad that I brought some money with me from home. What we have received
to date was not enough to buy anything.
For years I’ve enjoyed taking photos, but I left my 35 mm camera at home because the CTC had said
that cameras would not be allowed. However, I have noticed that some RAF and CTC people have cameras,
and I’ve even seen a few on the post at Cranwell. The worse thing that could happen would be to have it confiscated, and it is worth taking that chance.
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#27 -- Jim Farrior, Am erican Eagle Club, London. While I was at the Am er ican Eagl e
Club, I took a dvantage of the opport unity to writ e som e letters hom e. This was taken
with m y new cam era using the delayed act ion shutter. The camera placed on a nother
table.
Since it was late, we went back to the Leicester Square Underground Station and caught the tube to
the Princess Gardens Underground Station at Hyde Park. Fortunately, there was no fog, and there was some
light from the sky, which made it easy for us to make our way through the dark streets to the fine old home
that was being used for the Eagle Club Dormitory.
Saturday, Nov. 15, 1941 - The Eagle Club Dorm beds have simple springs and one piece mattresses
in lieu of the three “biscuits”, and it surely was good to have a soft bed last night. Also, breakfast this morning was far better than I have had since I have been in England. This evening I went to the Palace Theatre on
Shaftsbury Avenue to see the stage play "Chu Chin Chow", which I enjoyed very much. I spent most of the
late evening sitting around the Eagle Club talking to the other Americans. Most of them were Eagle Squadron
members. I looked in the register and saw where several from Montgomery, Ala., had registered.
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London, Sunday, Nov. 16, 1941 - I slept late this morning, and after having a good breakfast caught
the underground to Leicester and went to the Eagle Club. We decided to spend the day sight-seeing. We
walked down to the Thames where I took a picture of Cleopatra’s Needle with my new camera. We then
walked up the Victoria Embankment to the Houses of Parliament, where I took one of Big Ben. After that, we
walked over to Westminster Abbey, but did not have time to go in. I have never felt such a sense of history
before. At home, the things that date back as far as the American Civil war (1860s) are considered old. Here,
that would be considered practically new.
#28 -- The Am erican Eagle Club Dorm at 16 Princess Gardens - - Previously a very expensive private hom e, the dorm was easy t o reach by the Underground. They a ccepted
reservations, so one could be certain of ha ving a place to stay when on leave.
35
#25 - - Bom b dam age i n London. St . Paul' s Cat hedral was j ust behi nd m e . -- I was
concerned about t aking phot os of t he bom b dam age, as i t was prohi bi t ed, but I coul dn' t hel p but t ake a f ew. Thi s one shows t he t erri bl e destruct i on i n t he a rea behi nd St .
Paul ' s Cat h edral .
We had to hurry in order to catch our train. We made connections by bus at Grantham, and arrived in
Cranwell around 10 PM. I received my first mail from home today!
Cranwell, Monday, Nov. 17, 1941 - Although we’ve had some lectures and other training activities
to keep us busy, today was the first official day of our course. The morning was spent in the lecture room and
the afternoon in the operating room. I received a letter yesterday from Mother and one from Teeny. Today I
received a letter from Mother and one from Bill Colvard. They were nearly two months old. It’s good to hear
from the folks back home even if it is old news. I pent most of the evening studying French, which is a diversion from the technical things I must study. The men are around the stove arguing loudly about the technical
and military aspects of the war, and no two of them agree on anything.
Tuesday, Nov. 18, 1941 -We had lectures today by both Flight Lt. John Bond and Corp. Marshall.
Corp. Marshall must have attended a college and majored in math. He is teaching us the math we will need,
and demonstrates how it is used by analyzing simple electronic circuits. He pronounces words in a very funny
way. For instance, he says "ateput" for output, "amaint" for amount, "thaysand" for thousand. Today, I took
my first roll of film to the post office to be developed and printed. I wonder how long it will be before I get
the pictures and how they will turn out.
Wednesday, Nov. 19, 1941 - This weather is awful. It rains every day and is very cold, which has
caused me to have a cold ever since I have been here. Today we spent part of the day in the lab and part in the
lecture room. Flt. Lt. Bond (NZAF), who is our primary lecturer, is an excellent lecturer and really knows his
subject. He describes the actual circuits used in the equipment and analyzes them using the math that Corp.
Marshall has taught us. To understand Flt. Lt. Bond’s lectures, we must have learned what Corp. Marshall is
teaching. We are now studying high voltage power supplies for large cathode ray tubes. Our first test will be
36
given at the end of this week. There is another group of CTC men who are taking the same course that we are
taking. Our group was fortunate to have had two weeks to brush up before our course started. The new group
began immediately.
Thursday, Nov. 20, 1941 - This morning we had operator training using the instructional setup of the
"Chain Home" (CH) radiolocation equipment. At 11 o’clock this morning, we had a combined air raid and
gas attack drill and had to put on our gas equipment and go in the air raid shelter. We have Thursday afternoon off for sports, but as it was raining, we had to stay indoors. This was lucky for me because I really needed to study. If I don’t study hard, I might find myself behind in class because I’ve had little schooling in math.
I got a letter from Mother today, and it was a month old.
Friday, Nov. 21, 1941 - Many of the men here are getting bicycles. I think I will wait until I get posted before I get one. Everybody in England, young and old, seems to ride them. The English bike seems to be
pretty good, but few have coaster brakes. They have hand operated bakes and very small tires. Most of them
have 3-speed gearshifts, which is very good as you can put it in the highest speed most of the time. For the
most part, the ground is nearly level around here. The bikes cost anywhere from about £2 for a poor quality
second hand bike to about £20 for a very good new one. I understand that they have doubled in price since the
war began, and new ones are not always available.
Saturday, Nov. 22, 1941 - The photos that I took in London look pretty good. However, one of them
was printed backwards. The cost of developing and printing was 2d.6p, which doesn’t seem unreasonable.
The course is really getting tough. It now has a lot of math in it, but hopefully it will be more practical when
we really begin to study the equipment and how to repair it. It should then be more practical and less theoretical. We have some real good men here in the CTC. Some of them are college educated and already know
much that we are being taught. However, some are obviously not working hard. Some of the men have been
to Lincoln, a town near here that is very old and interesting. I want to go there soon and take some pictures.
Sunday, Nov. 23, 1941 - Today being Sunday, the sergeant didn’t come through yelling "wakie,
wakie". Usually, he doesn’t feel very good after Saturday night. I took the opportunity to sleep late. After
lunch, Davis, Douglas, Cragin and I went for a long walk in the countryside. Douglas and I had our cameras
and took some pictures. The green grass at this time of the year looks very unusual to me, as at home it would
be dead and brown. Today was the best day we have had since I’ve been at Cranwell. It was sunny all afternoon. The countryside is dotted with old brick and stone houses. We also saw some interesting old churches.
Nearly every field has old stone walls around them, but very few of the stone walls are in good repair.
Monday, Nov. 24, 1941 - Today we had a ride in a large, old airplane. I suppose it was somebody’s
idea of entertaining us. When I first saw it, I had my doubts that it would be able to fly. The plane was an old
1923 model Vickers, called a "Bombay". It was a biplane with two large engines suspended midway between
the wings by cables and struts. The plane carried 15 of us at a time, in addition to the pilot and copilot. The
pilots, with helmet and goggles, sat in an open cockpit way out front. The motors knocked and the tail assembly wobbled as though it was about to fall off. This plane belonged in a museum. After flying over Sleaford in
a big circle, we came back to the field. Although it was indeed exciting, I was happy that the entertainment
was as brief as it was.
Tuesday, Nov. 25, 1941 - Today, I believe I learned more about RDF than any other day since I have
been here. We were shown the MB2 transmitter, which is used at the "Chain Home" (CH) stations. It is really
a beautiful piece of equipment -- well laid out and well constructed. It uses frequencies in the HF band, and
the valves and other components are the same as used in the high power communications equipment with
which I am familiar. However, I’m not familiar with the circuitry having to do with generating and shaping
the pulses. We were told that the reliability of the transmitter is excellent, and the overall design and performance of the CH system are very good. I had been waiting impatiently for my chocolate ration, but the
chocolate ration was not chocolate at all, but merely ration coupons for chocolate. They are useless at this
time because none of the stores have chocolate. It seems that the nights here are much clearer than the days.
37
At night the moon can often be seen when it is up, but most of the day the skies are so cloudy that only the
approximate position of the sun can be determined.
Wednesday, Nov. 26, 1941 – I saw in the paper where Bob Boudin, whom I met on the train going to
Montreal on Sept. 20, and who was on the HMTS Andes with me coming over, was fined £10 in a civil court
for leaving his station without leave of absence. It didn’t give any details. He probably should have been punished, but that sounds like a strange way to handle it. It should have been handled administratively by his station instead of putting it into the legal system. That is downright scary. There is a public address system here
with speakers located all over the camp. It is called the "Tannoy system". It is used for giving gas alerts and
making announcements. Lately, they have been making announcements about saving fuel. The announcement
is simple and to the point. It says, "Save fuel now or freeze later." I’m freezing now. We now get only one
large bucket full of coal every two days. That is barely enough to keep the fire smoldering. Air Commodore
Probyn’s promise to give us an extra ration of fuel, a promise he made with no prompting from us, ran out
long ago. We suspect that some officer in the chain of command between Probyn and ourselves probably has
it delivered to his quarters. The real cold weather has yet to arrive. Brrrrr! Although we do a lot of complaining in the hut about the food and fuel, we have made no complaints to our superiors. We have a very good life
compared to those who are fighting on the front lines. Also, many of the airmen who are in training here, and
who are living under the same conditions as ourselves, are being trained to fly operational missions, which
will result in the death of many of them.
Thursday, Nov. 27, 1941 - On Thursday, we have the afternoon off. I received the prints of the photos that I took last Sunday, and they look pretty good. However, the price is going up, and these cost 3 shillings. I still can’t use my chocolate ration card because there is no chocolate in the stores. However, I smoke
very little, so I traded my cigarette card for a chocolate card in the hope that some day it can be used. I have
had a bad cold since I have been in England, which has caused me to feel rather bad most of the time. Today
I’ve felt worse than usual. Maybe some day I will get rid of it.
Friday, Nov. 28, 1941 - School is getting really tough, but I’m sure that I’m doing better than the average. Some of our college educated men already know most of it and find the remainder to be easy. However, some of them are not studying the specific material being covered in the lectures, so they may not do well
on the tests. Flight Lt. Bond and Corp. Marshall are still our primary lecturers. My cold is somewhat worse
today. A number of the men have bad colds, and one of our members, who seems to know something about
medicine, etc., says that it is due to not having a well-rounded diet containing vitamins. One man has been
complaining that when he goes out in dim light he can’t see anything. There was an article in the paper that
said that "night blindness" is common now because of the lack of vitamins. It said that it is a serious problem
with pilots. The article said to eat carrots. Great advice! What carrots?
Saturday, Nov. 29, 1941 - Today we had instructions on maintenance of the MB2 transmitter at "A"
site. Because we are civilians, we are not required to salute officers. However, it is hard to tell that we are not
RAF, so some of us have had encounters with officers who thought they were not being properly recognized.
Today, I was walking down a footpath near our hut. I had a pencil in my hand and was jotting down a note as
I walked. I suddenly saw that I was but a few feet away from a very important looking, well-decorated RAF
officer of elevated rank. My quick reaction was that this gentleman certainly required a salute. I threw my
hand up, which still contained the pencil, and the pencil was literally thrown at him. I was practically overcome by a feeling of embarrassment, concern, and downright fear. The officer didn’t break his stride, but
stooped down, scooped up the pencil, handed it to me, smiled, and continued on down the path. There is a
steady turn-over of bicycles here. Personnel who are leaving sell their bikes to the recently arrived personnel.
Today, I bought a bicycle for £3/6/-. It seems to be in good condition, except for the front tyre (British
spelling). Tyres are not so expensive and I think I made a good deal. Some of us refer to the English money as
"funny money". It is easy to spend it without realizing its actual value (in U.S. money). It seems like so many
coupons. The weather is cold, raining, and foggy.
38
Sunday, Nov. 30, 1941 - I have to get up early every morning except Sunday, so I take advantage of
the opportunity to sleep late on Sunday. I wanted to take a bike ride this afternoon, but my cold is so bad I
didn’t feel like it. I spent the day studying radio theory. Boy! What I would give for an egg, some bacon, or a
glass of milk! It is something I had every day at home without even thinking how good it was, but haven’t
had since I left the States. I’m still determined to get used to this food, but so far have made no progress.
Sometimes, but rarely, the tea contains traces of sweetening.
Monday, Dec. 1, 1941 - We had more transmitter instruction today. I got a nice letter from Teeny today. It was almost two months old. I hope she keeps writing to me. It is really foggy here today. It seems unlikely that there would be any bombing in this weather. The papers indicate that things seem to be getting
pretty bad between the U.S. and Japan. I wonder what will happen to me if the U.S. declares war on Japan.
Tuesday, Dec. 2, 1941 - We are getting well along in our study of RDF, and are having actual operating experience with the MB2 transmitter. The more I work with it, the more I appreciate the high quality of
this piece of equipment compared to the CW communications transmitters we used at WVR. However, the
equipment at WVR was years old, and the MB2 is quite new. The conversation here seems to center on how
long Japan would last if the U.S. declared war. It would probably be much longer than we think. We have
been told that we will be able to take the money we save while here back to the States when we leave. However, that will be such a long time from now I can’t spend the time worrying about it. I want to save as much
as I can so that I can go to college after the war.
Wednesday, Dec. 3, 1941 - We get off at noon tomorrow, so I think I will go to Lincoln, a rather
large town about 20 miles north of here, to get a tire for my bicycle. Also I need a notebook for making notes
in class. Our day is broken into two periods in the lecture room and two periods in actual operation and trouble shooting of the MB2 transmitter. I still have a bad cold. It looks like I will never get over it. According to
the papers, the situation with respect to the U.S. and Japan is getting worse. I got off at noon today and went
by bus to Lincoln. The bus was crowded and I had to stand up all of the way. Lincoln is an interesting town. It
shows little signs of bombing. I got a pretty good meal, but was unable to get milk as one of our men had
done once before. There was little time for sightseeing. I had a chit for some handkerchiefs, so I bought them.
They are not allowed to wrap anything, so everything I bought had to be carried loose in my hands or pockets.
I also bought a tyre, brake shoes, and a trouser guard. The return trip was made in a roundabout way and I had
to transfer once.
Friday, Dec. 5, 1941 - My bike is out of commission due to a lost taper screw that holds the pedal
crank to its shaft, so I’m walking between our hut and "A" site. It looks funny to see U.S. lieutenants riding
bicycles, but all of them stationed here seem to do it. I’ve talked with a few of them, and they seem to be pretty good chaps. The U.S. Lieutenants are taking essentially the same course that we are. I understand that
when they finish, they will return to the U.S. We have almost completed the study of the MB2 transmitter and
will soon begin to study the RF7 receiver. Note: I learned later, that the U.S. Lieutenants who were taking the
course would be posted to an operational RDF station for a short tour as Technical Officer for observing an
actual operating CH station. After that, they would return to the U.S. End note.
Saturday, Dec. 6, 1941 - I’m about used to these blackouts on the windows, but they are an awful lot
of trouble. Every now and then, a Bobby will knock on our window and we will have to close a crack. Sometimes, if the crack is large, they will come in and give us the devil about it. I’m surprised that they are using
civilian police for these kinds of duties on a military post. They seem to be of military age, but maybe these
are men not fit for military duty. The sun comes up about 8:45 AM and at noon it is still low. Even when the
sun comes up and shines for a while, it can hardly be felt as the angle of elevation is so low. According to the
papers, conditions between the U.S. and Japan are extremely bad
39
Japan attacks Pearl Harbor!
#29 -- Our Sergeant reads the hea dlines, which speak for the m selves.
Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941 - Japan has attacked the USA! About 9 PM, a group of Canadian airmen came into our hut and said they
had heard on the radio that Japan had bombed
Pearl Harbor, Honolulu, Guam, Wake Island,
Midway Island, and other places in the Pacific.
It came as a surprise to me, as I didn’t realize
that the situation was that bad. John Phelps,
Aunt Grace’s adopted son is stationed at
Wheeling Air Base at Pearl Harbor. I understand that there were a large number of casualties there, and I hope he came through OK. It is
the opinion of most Americans here that Japan
will not last long, but I expect that it will be a
long, hard grind.
Monday, Dec. 8, 1941 - Today’s papers had much more information on the Japanese attack. Japan sure pulled a fast one. Tonight at 6:30, President Roosevelt made a
speech in which he asked Congress to declare
that a state of war has existed with Japan since
yesterday. At 9:30, Churchill made a speech in
which he declared that England has declared
war on Japan. There is much discussion in the
hut about what change this will make in our status. Some have decided to write the American Consul and see
if they can get sent back to the States, or be given some military rating here. I wonder what will happen about
that. I don’t plan to act too quickly, as I’m quite happy with the training I’m getting here.
Tuesday, Dec. 9, 1941 - Today, Flight Lt. Bond took the names of those of us who wished to return
to the States. To be patriotic, I turned in my name, as did most of the others, but I don’t think that anything
will come of it. I personally think that they simply want us to know that they are aware of our concerns.
Wednesday, Dec. 10, 1941 - Today, England had a terrible blow to her naval power. They lost the
"Prince of Wales" and the "Repulse". The "Prince of Wales" was one of England’s largest and newest battleships. We seem to be holding our own in the Philippines, but I think it is generally believed that if the Japs
put a strong invading army in there, the Philippines will be lost. I have heard from numerous sources that Japan has oil supplies that would last only 1 year, but that is what was said about Germany. That country is still
going strong.
Thursday, Dec. 11, 1941 - Today, Germany and Italy formally declared war on the U.S. and the U.S.
declared war on them. Conditions are pretty bad in the Pacific, but the U.S. is said to have sunk a Jap battleship and a destroyer. I received a cablegram from home today, which read, "All well allotments ten fifty nine
each love Mother". I’m glad to hear that I’m getting paid. Flt. Lt. Bond has tremendous talents other than his
radio knowledge. Tonight at 8 PM, I went to the large Station Cinema, to see a performance of "Bitter
Sweet", an Operette by Noel Coward. It was a fantastic production, with a cast of 42, not counting the orchestra members and a large number of non-speaking, or non-singing, characters, all from the military personnel
here at Cranwell. The orchestra was the band of H.M. Royal Air Force College, by kind permission of Air
40
Commodore H. M. Probyn, D.S.O., and the C.O. here at Cranwell. I was surprised to discover that Flt. Lt.
Bond had the second most important singing role, and his performance was magnificent. It seems surprising
to me that they were able to get together so much excellent talent and find the time to do the rehearsing that
would be necessary. The performance is scheduled for two additional nights, Friday and Saturday, in support
of the RAF Benevolent Fund.
Friday, Dec. 12, 1941 - It is not so cold today, but the weather is so dark, damp, and windy, that it is
worse than cold weather. The winter is just beginning, and I think we will get snow before long -- maybe before Christmas. Although I’ve been away from home on four Christmases, this will be my first Christmas
away from the U.S.
Saturday, Dec. 13, 1941 - We got off at noon today and Louis Davis, William Douglas, and I rode
our bicycles to Sleaford. I had trouble with the crankshaft bolt on my bike, which was a replacement, and we
had to stop at a bicycle repair shop. I learned that the part I had previously obtained must be machined to be a
proper fit for my particular bike. It cost me a florin to have it machined. It seems strange that instead of having exact replacement parts, the bike shop has parts that require machining. We locked our bikes in an alley
and went to a book store and bought some books. Then Louis Davis tried to buy some pajamas, but his ration
coupon didn't contain the necessary stamps. The rationing system prevents purchases, even when you have
the ration coupons. We went to the YMCA and got a cup of tea. We were joined by Pete Lyons, an RAF man
we know from Cranwell. We all went to a movie. After the movie, we got fish and chips at the "Picture
Drome Café". It was the first time I have been able to get fish and chips, and it was a real treat!
Sunday, Dec. 14, 1941 - Today being Sunday, I slept through breakfast. I didn’t miss it, since I can
hardly eat it anyway. Breakfast usually consists of thin porridge (oatmeal), two slices of heavy brown bread
that tastes and smells like cow feed, and unsweetened tea. I haven’t had an egg or a glass of milk since I arrived in England. Thank God for the NAAFI, which stands for Navy, Army, Air Force Institute. It is something like the Post Exchange in a U.S. Army Post, except that there is very little to buy. At the snack bar, one
can sometimes get a small mutton chop that sticks to the roof of one’s mouth and some chips (French Fries)
that were fried in mutton grease (suet). But under the circumstances, that is good eating, so I went to the
NAAFI, and had a mutton chop and chips. While there, I met Louis Davis and Pete Lyons, and we got in a
heated argument with Pete about whether Americans were more ingenious than the British. Pete can argue as
well as any American. The King is 46 today. Long live the King!
Monday, Dec. 15, 1941 - Since the man with the radio was moved to another hut, we no longer have
a radio. I most often can’t get a newspaper, so I’m not always up on what is happening around the world. I
received a letter from home that stated that they have received only one letter from me since I have been in
England. I’ve written at least 10.
Tuesday, Dec. 16, 1941 - In the future, I shall number my letters consecutively and let Mother tell
me the numbers of the letters as she receives them. I will then know which ones have been lost. I got some
pictures back and photos are pretty good except that they are poorly developed and printed. The negatives are
scratched and two exposures were printed backwards. I brought some money with me and have spent little of
my pay, so I now have about £25 (about $100) that I have saved. Some of the men are broke. We are not allowed to send any money home so I will save it here. When it comes to spending money, I have always been
rather frugal.
41
#31 -- William Douglas, Jim Farrior, and Noel Cragin. I'm showin g m y new
cam era that I bought in London. Obv iously, I didn’t take this one.
Wednesday, Dec. 17, 1941 - I understand that it is a custom that officers act as waiters in the airmen’s mess on Christmas. This is a funny custom, and I must see it to believe it. They will certainly be out of
character. I don’t know what we will have for Christmas, but it must be better than usual. I’m getting used to
riding my bike on the left side of the road, but thought for a while that I would probably get killed before I got
accustomed to it.
Thursday, Dec. 18, 1941 - Some of the RAF instructors who have been out on stations say that it is
interesting work. I hope there will be time for me to study math, as I will need it if I’m ever going to succeed
in technical radio. I hear that they are quartered in separate households so there will be no danger of losing all
of the technicians during a raid. The stations themselves are built to withstand anything but a direct hit.
Cranwell, Friday, Dec. 19, 1941 - We have a test scheduled for tomorrow. I didn’t do as well as I
had hoped on the last one, but I have studied the recent circuits hard and believe I can make a good grade on
the next test. It is very hard to get used to the weather. The sun stays so low and the air is so foggy that it is
half dark all of the time. The days are short, and blackout time comes long before classes are out.
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#32 -- CTC m en with bikes, Cranwell, Lincs. Noel Cragin, Jim Fa rrior, Louis Davis,
W.L. Clark
Saturday, Dec. 20, 1941 - .We finished up today at "A" site. I had about as good an average there as
anybody, which makes me very happy. At 4:30 PM, school was let out, and I went to the hut and got my respirator. I then walked down to the queue where the WAAF and RAF were waiting for buses into Sleaford.
Since I was not far from the end of the queue, I had to wait about an hour before I could get a bus. I walked
all over Sleaford trying to get a battery for my penlight that I bought in Canada, but they don’t have that size
here.
Sunday, Dec. 21, 1941 - I went to the café just outside of the west camp gate and had breakfast, such
as it was. For a diversion, I spent a good part of the day reading, sorting my photographs and stamps, and
studying French. Tonight, I went to see a movie. To be sure of getting a seat, I stood in the queue for an hour
before the show started. There were already a number of WAAF women and RAF men standing in the queue
when I arrived. The movie was "The trial of Mary Duggan", and it was quite good. I walked back to West
Camp and went to the NAAFI, where I was able to get some chips (French fries). They didn’t have any meat
tonight. Tomorrow, we will begin a brief coverage of centimeter wavelength systems.
43
#30 -- Our hut at Cranwell. At night, we gathered around the sm all pot bellied stove to
study in the dim , dim light.
I don’t know why we are studying this as we have been told we will be posted to a CH station. However, I
know it will be more interesting that what we have been studying. The CH system was designed to use existing technology, but the centimeter wavelength systems contain much new technology.
Monday, Dec. 22, 1941 - I sent a Christmas greeting home by telegraph today, and hope it will arrive
there by Christmas. No Christmas cards have arrived yet, and I don’t really expect to get any soon. I don’t
hear much about the war in the Pacific, but it seems like the U.S. will lose the Philippines and the other Pacific possessions, except for Hawaii.
Tuesday, Dec. 23, 1941 - .We got the returns from our recent test, and I was among the highest
scores, which delighted me. I knew that I had done quite well, but didn’t know how the others had done. I
will have to do some studying at night because we have a lot of ground to cover in the next few weeks. The
Germans seem to be losing in Libya.
Wednesday, Dec. 24, 1941 - It is Christmas Eve, but it certainly doesn’t seem like it. There is little
sign of Christmas cheer among the airmen, and I know there is little reason for such among the CTC men. I
heard that one CTC hut has somehow put up a makeshift Christmas tree, but I haven’t seen it. One RAF airman, wanting to spread some cheer, came through the hut with a cup full of hot rum and gave a small sip to
everyone who wanted it. I can’t imagine where he got the rum. The hot rum was rather cold by the time it got
to our hut. We will not have classes on Christmas. That’s jolly good of them. The Tannoy system has announced for a week that we will have a good meal, so I guess we have something for which to be thankful. I
still haven’t received a Christmas card, but this is probably due to slow mail, which takes at least a couple of
months. Early this evening, many planes could be heard overhead flying toward France and Germany. There
will be a lot of activity there tonight, and Jerry will get a much-deserved Christmas gift.
44
Christmas at Cranwell, Thursday, Dec. 25, 1941 - Christmas! We all got a present -- the day off!
The lime drink and real eggs ran out just before it came my turn to be served. That left the rest of us with
pretty much the usual meal except that each of us had a small helping of dehydrated eggs, which was very
much appreciated. Fearing that the food might run out, I had stood in the queue for a long time, but I didn’t
go early enough. This afternoon, Davis, Cragin, Clark, and I went for a long bike ride. We went west to Caythorpe and made a circle around by Ancaster, and then back to Cranwell. We passed many old churches, one
of which was built in the 1630s. I took some pictures. After returning, I spent the evening putting my footlocker in order, and repairing some clothing. Many of the men have been playing poker all day. I never liked
to play cards.
Friday, Dec. 26, 1941 - I feel sorry for the children. I saw few, if any, toys in the store windows. I
know they couldn’t have had any clothing gifts because it takes all of their clothing rations just to exist. As
far as a Christmas dinner is concerned, I don’t imagine they had much. For the young children, this war has
already gone on ever since they can remember, so they are not used to anything else. The "Tannoy" system
continues to make announcements about conserving coal. What coal? I wonder what quarters have enough
coal to allow some to be conserved. We hardly get enough to keep a bird alive. During one of the poison gas
drills, a team of men came through the area marking with wooden stakes the spots that were to be avoided
because of the presence of imaginary liquid poison gas. One of our fears is that our fire will go out and we
will be unable to get it started for lack of kindling wood. The moment the gas alert ended, one of our men ran
out and began collecting some stakes, but he soon came face to face with someone whose job it was to retrieve them. Our man came back empty handed. I had hoped that some day I will get used to it, but the food
seems to get worse. Every day, it is the same thing, and in very limited quantity. Even after eating everything
that is served, I leave the mess hall hungry.
Saturday, Dec. 27, 1941 - Some of the CTC men here don’t study enough, and the instructors make
it hard on all of us. Flight Lt. Bond at first tried to help us in every way, but since he has seen the attitude of a
few of our men, it seems that he, too, is making it hard on us. Radios here are not as plentiful as they are in
the U.S. Not every family has one, and a license is required to use one. We don’t have one in the hut, so we
only get the news by reading the paper, when we can get one. We will get a short leave soon, and I’m planning to go to London.
Sunday, Dec. 28, 1941 - The photo shops here do very bad work, but there is nothing I can do but
take my film to them for developing and printing. We don’t have access to darkroom facilities. I wrote a note
and sent it with my last roll of film, and I hope that it will cause them to do better. One of the men here,
named Ash, is from Hollywood, California, and he worked in the movie industry. He knows Joan Blondell
and Dick Powell, and he got a large inscribed photo from them today. I took a picture of it.
Monday, Dec. 29, 1941 - Cranwell seems to have been pretty lucky, as there is little evidence of
bombing. Perhaps they have repaired bomb damage rapidly. Maybe the lack of obvious damage is due to the
fact that this important base is well protected by fighter aircraft and ground gunnery. One of our classrooms
has a hole in the ceiling caused by an incendiary bomb that failed to ignite.
Tuesday, Dec. 30, 1941 - A number of RAF men stop by our hut to argue about any subject that
comes to mind. One of our men was born and raised in Lancashire, and he often supports the British blokes.
Not that they need any help! The main subjects argued about have to do with cultural things, the quality of
civilian goods and military equipment, why we didn’t get in the war until forced to do so, etc.
Wednesday, Dec. 31, 1941 - The note I sent the photo shop made a great difference. The next pictures came back nicely printed, none were reversed, and the negatives were not scratched at all. I still fear that
the hypo may not be completely washed from the negatives and prints. Tonight will be New Year’s Eve. The
British people don’t seem to celebrate it as much as we do in America. Perhaps it is due to the war. I’m sure
they have heard enough explosions. We will get a long weekend this week, and Louis Davis, Noel Cragin,
Douglas, and I have planned to go to London together. We will get off at 4:30 PM Friday.
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Thursday, Jan. 1, 1942 - I wonder what changes in the war status this year will bring. There have
been many statements made by all sides of the conflict, but only Germany predicts victory this year. In my
opinion we will eventually win, but it will take several years. At this time things are going badly in the Far
East. I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost the Philippines very soon. I haven’t heard anything about John Phelps.
I hope he was not among the casualties at Pearl Harbor.
Another visit to London
Trip from Cranwell to London, Friday, Jan. 2, 1942 - Davis, Cragin, Douglas, and I got off at 4:30
PM and caught the train to London. Cragin had written for reservations, so when we arrived at King‘s Cross
Station, we took the underground to Knightsbridge, and from there we walked to the Eagle Club Dormitory.
Being too late to get anything to eat, we went straight to bed. It sure is good to get in a bed with springs after
the hard beds and horse-hair pillows at Cranwell. Good night!
London, Saturday, Jan. 3 1942 - We got up early and went to the Eagle Club, where we had breakfast. It was very good for a wartime English breakfast. The coffee was Chase and Sandborne’s. No complaints
about that! We walked around the Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly areas where I took a few pictures. We then
walked down Whitehall and past Downing St. to the Houses of Parliament. We continued on to Westminster
Abbey and took a tour through it. Viewing the tombs, inscriptions, etc., really makes history come alive.
There is so much to see there that it is overwhelming. The ancient structure itself would be a real wonder,
even if it were empty. It is very beautiful. Fortunately, the ancient Abbey has received only minor damage
due to the war. We also visited the historical old St. Margaret’s Church, which is close by the Abbey. It, too,
has suffered only minor damage. With the considerable evidences of bombing all around, it is amazing that
these old structures have survived. We then went back to the Eagle Club and ate some snacks and talked with
some of the interesting people there. There were some nice writing desks with Eagle Club stationery, so I
wrote several letters and mailed them. It was a very interesting day. For supper, I went to the Regent Palace
Hotel, which I understand is one of the best places in London. I had to stand in queue for an hour and a half
before I could get a table. Most of the people in the queue were in uniform, but seated inside were a number
of well-dressed civilians who had undoubtedly entered through another entrance and had not stood in the
queue. The service was excellent and the meal was very good, but quite expensive. It indicated to me that
even during war time, those with enough money to eat at such places could have good meals.
Departure from London, Sunday, Jan. 4, 1942 - I took a walk through Hyde Park, which is huge. It
has many statues and a Serpentine Lake in the middle. There are many swans and ducks in the lake and boats
for riding on the lake, but it was too cold for that. At the Eagle Club, they gave us tickets to a dance at the
Royal Empire Society, where they had a good band. We went there for a while before we had to go to the station to catch the train, which left at 7:30 PM. We got to the Cranwell gate at 11:30 PM, which was fortunate
because anyone coming in after midnight must have a special pass.
Cranwell, Lincs, Monday, Jan. 5, 1942 - Several of our men who took a trip over the weekend
missed a train connection and didn’t show up for class on time this morning. Flight Lt. Bond is very unhappy
and seems to be taking it out on all of us. We were divided into two classes according to the test grades. I was
in the class with the highest grades. We were asked our choice as to the town where we wanted to be posted.
Another choice was overseas, which I selected. I did that on an impulse, because it sounded exciting. However, I don’t think it will make any difference.
Tuesday, Jan. 6, 1942 - Some of the men who have behaved in such a way as to provoke Flight Lt.
Bond are among the most educated and experienced of our group. However, that was not reflected in their
grades, partially because of their poor morale. Some feel that they have not been treated fairly by the CTC.
Also, some thought the theoretical material covered in the lectures was too basic, and did not study for the
exams. Note written later: Things like the apparent lack of concern about the welfare of CTC members, failure to issue sufficient clothing, failure to pay our salaries promptly (which was important to those who had
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brought little money with them), coupled with other things that we had been told in the past, resulted in a very
poor morale among some of the CTC group. New paragraph: Some men were also very concerned about
their future due to the United States having entered the war. Most members said that before they had signed
up, they had been promised a status equal to non-commissioned officers. We had been treated fairly well at
Montreal, but had been treated as the lowest rank of enlisted men at Halifax. At Bournemouth, we had been
treated well, but at the school, we were again treated as the lowest rank of enlisted men. Many of the men
were concerned about what their status and living conditions would be after they were posted to a work station. Some of the CTC men had a level of education and experience that would have assured them the rank of
a non-commissioned officer, or even an officer, if they were in the U.S. forces. They resented the excessive,
unnecessary military discipline to which they were subjected. New paragraph: The RAF personnel had become accustomed to the present conditions, and better times were only a faint memory. We had suddenly
found ourselves in these conditions without any advanced warning or preparation. Our hut was exceedingly
cold and initially very crowded. The food in the mess hall where we ate was terrible, and the queue was long.
We had not been issued sufficient clothing for the cold weather, and couldn’t buy any clothing because the
merchants did not accept the ration coupons we had been given. True or not, we believed that the officers, and
also the NCOs, fared much better than we did with respect to accommodations, food, and clothing. New paragraph: In my case, I had not been promised any particular status, but I had expected better treatment and a
certain amount of respect. Although I was unhappy with our status and living conditions, I was very happy
with the training I was getting and looked forward to the work I would be doing in the future. All of my CTC
friends had felt the same. I was also excited about the new experiences I was having. End note.
Wednesday, Jan. 7, 1942 - In spite of all of the arguments we have when RAF men come to our hut
for that purpose, we get along with them very well. There are many RCAF men attending the RDF school
here, and they often join the argument on our side. There are significant differences between our culture and
the British culture, but the Canadian culture is almost identical to our own. The arguments are always in fun,
and are simply to pass the time. Nobody goes away mad.
Thursday, Jan. 8, 1942 - Tonight Brown (CTC #390) and I rode our bicycles to Leadenham, where
we found a place to get something to eat. It was a farmer’s home, and both of us got two eggs on toasted
scones! I had had a portion of dehydrated eggs on Christmas, but these were the only fresh eggs I’ve had
since I’ve been in England. Eggs had previously been an important part in my diet. I gave the farm lady’s little boy a few U.S. stamps for his stamp album.
Friday, Jan. 9, 1942 - Today we had a big surprise. Thirteen CTC men were informed that they had
failed to make satisfactory grades and were being sent back to Bournemouth. I don't know what will be done
with them. None of them were from our hut, and the only man I knew was Goza, who came from Atlanta. I
had studied hard and had made very good grades, so I’m not worried. Our final tests come a week from tomorrow. I will then be posted. I have no idea where. Note written later: Although I thought at the time that
sending the group of 13 men back to Bournemouth was rather harsh, it was under the circumstances the right
thing to do. I believe that some good technical men among them felt as I did, that the teaching and testing was
too academic, and did not prepare the students for being maintenance technicians and trouble shooters. Had
the tests been oriented toward their technician’s knowledge, at least some would have made good grades. Because of their poor morale, they failed to prepare for the tests. Their grades were probably a better indication
of their morale than a measure of their technical ability. End note
Saturday, Jan. 10, 1942 - The 13 men who are going back to Bournemouth left today. I hate to see
Goza go, as he was from Atlanta. However, I had known him only casually, and knew nothing of his technical ability. Just after dark, I was returning to the post from a bike ride, and was going down a deserted road.
I had turned off the red rear light to conserve the battery. Suddenly, a Bobby on a bike came up from behind
and stopped me. He took down my name and station and told me that I would have to go to court. I don’t
know what will become of it, if anything.
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Sunday, Jan. 11, 1942 - Today is my 22nd birthday. Since it is Sunday, I have a holiday! Tonight, I
rode with Red Davidson to Leadenham and ate another meal at the same farm house. Again I got two eggs on
toasted scones. That was a very much-enjoyed birthday present! Leadenham is quite a long ride from here,
and the weather is really too cold now for cycling, so I guess I won’t get any decent food for a while. I made
certain that my red rear light was on.
Monday, Jan. 12, 1942 - The food here is getting even worse, if that is possible. Many of the airmen
are complaining. The NAAFI and the eating places for miles around Cranwell are always crowded with airmen trying to get a decent meal. I hope the U.S. will start sending more and better food over here. Actually,
the food we have would be far better if the trouble were taken to prepare it decently. Everything is unseasoned and boiled until it is mush. It is practically tasteless and one sometimes finds insects and hairs in it.
Tuesday, Jan. 13, 1942 - We must be expecting an invasion. I understand that Germany is massing
paratroops all along the coast. There does seem to be an increase in precautionary measures. We have to wear
our respirators now every time we pass through the gates. They also look at our passes now.
Wednesday, Jan. 14, 1942 - This morning, about 3 inches of snow covered the ground. I’ve never
seen much snow, and it is very pretty. But it is cold! We have to stand in a queue outside the mess hall before
each meal, and that is not so good in this kind of weather. It is much worse when it is both cold and raining,
especially since we don’t have raincoats, but have only the useless ground sheet that was issued to us.
Thursday, Jan. 15, 1942 - I got a Christmas card from Margaret and Bill Boyd. It has been a month
since I have heard from home. I have mailed several letters since then, but have received none lately. It is
possible that some of it has been lost, as many of the men have not received packages that they know were
mailed months ago. Our final exams come on Saturday. I feel pretty good about it, and I am studying hard.
Friday, Jan. 16, 1942 - Tomorrow, we have final examinations. I’ve studied hard for them and believe that I will make a good grade. My practical grades have been very good, so I’m sure I will get through
all right. I’m in the upper bracket so far. The snow is still on the ground and everything is frozen.
Saturday, Jan. 17, 1942 - The tests were no so hard, and I know I made a good grade. At any rate, I
feel certain that I did better than most of the others. Wednesday, I’m going to London for 4 days leave. From
there, I will report to my post, wherever that may happen to be. A few days ago, I requested a foreign posting,
but I don’t really expect it, at least not at first. By far, the worse thing that has happened to me since I’ve been
here was when a Bobby from Sleaford came into our classroom today while we were taking our final test and
served me with a summons for riding my bicycle without a red rear light on Jan. 10th. It was very embarrassing. He held up the class while, in a very officious manner and tone, he called me to the front and read me the
summons. I heard some of the men chuckling. I will be posted before the trial is due on Jan. 28th, so I have
written for further instructions. Here is the summons I received on 1/17/1944:
In the Parts of Resteven in the County of Lincoln
To: James S. Farrior, CTC 149, Of: #1 Radio School, West Camp, RAF Cranwell
Information has been laid this day by Supt. Hy. Jes. Good that you, on the tenth day of Jan., 1942, at
Byards Leap, in the Division aforesaid, unlawfully did act in contravention of para. 31 of the Lighting Restrictions Order 1940 made under No. 24 of the Defence General Regulations 1939, that is to say, during the
hours of darkness, to wit, about Ten thirty p.m. unlawfully did cause a bicycle to be on Newark Road there
without the said bicycle displaying a red rear light from an authorised rear lamp as defined by para. 15 of the
said Order.
You are therefore hereby summoned to appear before the Court of Summary Jurisdiction, sitting at
The Sessions House, in New Sleaford, in the said Division, on Monday, the 26 day of Jan., 1942, at the hour
of Eleven in the Forenoon, to answer to the said Information.
(Sig.) Justice of the Peace for the Parts aforesaid
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Here is my reply:
#1 Radio School, Cranwell, Lincolnshire, 18 Jan. 1942
To: Justice of the Peace, Court of Summary Jurisdiction, The Sessions House, New Sleaford, Lincs.
Dear Sir,
On Jan. seventeenth, I was served with a summons to appear before the Court of Summary Jurisdiction on
Jan. twenty sixth in answer to a charge of riding a bicycle on Newark Road without displaying a red rear
light.
I have this date completed my course of study at this station and will be posted to some other station in the
United Kingdom on Jan. twenty first.
I wish to plead guilty to the charge as stated. I am an American and have been in England only a short time
and am not familiar with the laws of this country concerning this matter. I was on a country road at an hour
when there was no traffic. I had turned off my rear light in order to conserve the battery, as it is hard to replace. In the future I shall display a red rear light at all times when riding at night.
In view of the above, I request that this charge against me be dropped, but if, however, you do not wish to do
this, I can be reached at my present address until January twenty first. After then I shall be posted to some
station, the location of which is at present unknown to me. I am awaiting further instructions.
Yours truly, (S) James S. Farrior
Note: I did not receive an answer to my letter. End note.
Sunday, Jan. 18, 1942 - I spent most of the day in bed with my blankets and great coat on top. It is
too cold to go outside, and the hut is too cold to sit around inside. Fortunately, I have plenty of reading material.
We receive our final grades and postings!
- Monday, Jan. 19, 1942 - Today we got our grade averages, and I was very near the top. I was informed that I would be posted to RAF Scarlett Point, Isle of Man. The Isle of Man is in the middle of the Irish
Sea, and Scarlett Point is on the southern coast of the Island. The camp where the personnel live is in the
town of Castletown. I’m told that the weather is not as bad there as here, and that food is not severely rationed. That is the best thing I have heard, since I’m about to starve here. I’m very pleased, and feel like I
have been rewarded for my good grades and classroom behavior. Perhaps this posting is also in answer to my
request for an overseas posting. After all, it is over the Irish Sea. I will go on my vacation Wednesday, and
Monday I will have to leave London on my way to the Isle of Man. This makes me very happy! Note: I
learned later that I had received the best posting of all. I was indeed fortunate, as some were sent to locations
where the conditions were even much worse than those at Cranwell. End note
Tuesday, Jan. 20, 1942 - Tomorrow I will leave for my 4 days leave, which expires Monday. We are
spending the time making last minute preparations, such as the Pay Master. I’ve managed my money carefully, but some of the men are out of money. I sure will be glad to get away from all this snow. I spent the evening packing my few belongings in my kit bag and foot-locker. My foot-locker will be shipped to my post.
Some RAF airmen came through the hut this morning wanting to buy bikes, so I sold mine for £4. Note: I
didn’t know it at the time, but it would have cost very little to have shipped my bike to my new posting. As it
was, I went without a bike for a long time. End note.
Yet another visit to London
Cranwell to London, Wednesday, Jan. 21, 1942 I left Sleaford for London about noon. There is
just as much snow here in London as there was in Cranwell, but it is not nearly as cold. I booked my bed for
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the night at the American Eagle Club early so I would be sure to get one. Boy! Oh, boy! I was able to get a
Coke at the Eagle Club. It surely did taste good. I went out to the dormitory and took a good bath. It had
seemed that the bath house at Cranwell had been heated just enough to keep the water from freezing. The Eagle Club Dormitory is quite comfortable, although a little crowded.
London, Thursday, Jan. 22, 1942 - I walked to Webb’s Radio Store from Tottenham Court Road,
where I had left the underground, and bought some amateur radio publications. G2NO, a well-known British
radio amateur who works there, gave me an English telegraph key, which is different from the ones used in
the U.S. This one is heavier. He told me that the British mount their telegraph keys near the edge of the table
and their arms don’t rest on the table while sending. Strange! I told him that I have a Class A Amateur Radio
license, and my call is W4FOK, a call that I have had since 1938 when I was 18 years old. Upon hearing that,
he got very friendly and gave me a small junk radio without a case. I bought some parts that I will need to
repair it when I get to my post. The parts were used parts removed from old equipment. Nobody here throws
away useful parts. Radio amateurs are now off the air around the world. I learned from QST, an American
amateur publication, that many radio amateurs of military age are joining the military services where their
skills are much needed. Note: (Jan. 2003): I’m 83 years old now and still have the W4FOK amateur radio
call. My Class A license was the highest class, but that class no longer exists, and I now have an Extra Class.
It is now the highest grade, and I had to sit for another exam. Amateur radio and telegraphy have meant much
to me over the years. I presently distribute by the Internet a computer program, “The Mill” that I wrote that is
dedicated to the history, practice, and the learning of telegraphy, both land-line and radio. End note.
Friday, Jan. 23, 1942 - I spent most of the day viewing part of London. It is tremendously exciting,
and it is hard to realize that I am actually here. I went to “Bank and Monument” on the Underground and
walked across the Thames over the Tower Bridge. Much of this part of the city is in ruins from the bombing.
The Tower is most impressive and doesn’t appear to be extensively damaged. I only saw one corner that had
been hit. One of the towers of Tower Bridge has been considerably damaged. There is so much to see in London that I don’t know where to start. I bought some reading material that will be of help.
Saturday, Jan. 24, 1942 - The day was spent in rather aimless sightseeing. It is very evident that
there is a war going on. Many barrage balloons float over the city to prevent low level bombing. Someone
made a joke by saying that if the balloon cables were all cut, the Island would sink. So much destruction has
taken place in the area around St. Paul’s Cathedral that it is almost like the Cathedral is standing in an open
field. Miraculously, the Cathedral has not had major damage. I sneaked a couple of pictures showing bomb
damage, but I haven’t taken many because I’ve heard that one will be arrested and their camera confiscated if
caught doing it. This evening, Cragin, Davis, and I went to a dance at the Royal Empire Society. We were
given tickets at the American Eagle Club. We met several young civilian men and women of London, and we
went out to eat after the dance was over at 6 PM. Most young people I’ve seen are in uniform, and I didn’t
ask our young friends how they happened to be civilians. Tonight is a typical pea soup London fog. The rain
has melted the snow, and it has become unbelievably foggy. The fog is so wet that our clothing seemed to
become soaked almost as soon as we went outside. London people don’t let this stop them. Fortunately, the
temperature was rather moderate. The fog, combined with the blackout, made it almost impossible to get
around. We would have been completely lost had it not been for our young friends, who knew the area well.
They were kind enough to lead us back to the Eagle Club Dormitory. They seemed to have some sense that
we lacked. Without their help, we would have wandered aimlessly for a long time. When we arrived at the
Dorm and entered the front door into the dimly lit hallway, the fog swirled in behind us. The man at the desk
was a veteran of the Boor War, and had lived his life in London. The old timer told us some stories about how
bad the London fog can get. I can’t believe that it could be worse than this.
Sunday, Jan. 25, 1942 - Today was so cold and wet that it is not suitable for sightseeing. Instead, I
slept late for the first time in a long time and then went to the American Eagle Club at 28 Charing Cross
Road, where I spent most of the day talking to other CTC members and Eagle Squadron airmen. The Club has
a large room with many leather pub-type chairs, and some smaller areas for writing letters. One can get cokes,
50
doughnuts, and snacks at the snack bar. Only Americans who are serving with the British forces can come in.
If others were allowed, the place would be swamped immediately and would no longer serve its purpose.
There are many other clubs and organizations in London that cater to servicemen from the British Isles and
the colonies. This evening I went to the theatre at the Leicester Square Theatre. Since I must go to Liverpool
tomorrow, I returned to the Dorm early. Cragin and Cook are assigned to a CH station at Ruddlan, Flintshire,
which is in Wales. Like RAF Scarlett, it is in 77 Wing, with headquarters in Liverpool. Cook has gone to
Scotland for his leave, and we will probably see him in Liverpool.
London to Liverpool, Monday, Jan. 26, 1942 - Noel Cragin and I caught the 8:30 train from Euston
Station. We arrived at the Lime Street Station in Liverpool. I’m back where I arrived on the HMTS Andes on
Oct. 17th of last year. It has been just a little over 3 months, but seems like a much longer time. I’ve seen and
learned a lot of things since I came here. We caught an electric streetcar to 77 Wing Headquarters. The ticket
cost tuppence hapenny, and is the longest distance I’ve ever ridden for such a low fare. Jerry still strikes here
often, and Liverpool has really been hit hard. In some areas, nearly everything is in ruins. At Wing Headquarters we were given our travel orders and our tickets, and told to spend the night at the "School for the Blind",
4 Harmon Street 4 P.T.C., in downtown Liverpool. The "School for the Blind" is a bomb damaged building in
down town Liverpool that is now being used as a dormitory for military men who are in transit. I don’t like
this place. It has RAF bunks, mattresses, blankets, pillows, and no sheets. Different people sleep in the bunks
each night. There doesn’t seem to be any discipline of any kind here, and the place is not at all clean.
Arrival at Scarlett Point, Castletown, Isle of Man
Liverpool to Castletown, Isle of Man, Tuesday, Jan. 27, 1942 - There were several airmen also going to the Isle of Man, so I was put in their party, which is in the charge of a Flight Sgt. In peacetime, the
boats to the Isle of Man had sailed from Liverpool to Douglas, I.O.M., but to save fuel the boat now takes a
somewhat shorter route and leaves from Fleetwood. We caught the train at Lime Street Station in Liverpool,
changed trains at Preston, and arrived at Fleetwood at noon. We boarded the ship at 1 o’clock. The crossing
was very rough, and I thought the small ship would tear apart. It was most uncomfortable, and some of the
passengers were seasick. We arrived at Douglas at 4:30 PM, which someone said was a quick crossing, considering the rough sea. The strong wind was from the stern.
As we neared the harbour, we could see a row of interesting old buildings along the waterfront. They
stand several floors high, and have no space separating them. A small castle-like structure stands on a small
island in the middle of the harbour. Because of its moderate climate, the Isle of Man was a favorite vacation
spot during peacetime for both British and European people, and the buildings along the waterfront are mostly small hotels. The train station is not far from the ship terminal, and I was able to get to the station in time to
catch the train for Castletown.
The train is a very interesting and quaint Victorian relic that moved very slowly on an uneven roadbed to the small town of Castletown. This is a very interesting and ancient-looking place! One of the first
things that caught my eye is a large castle located in the center of the town. It is named Castle Rushen. I was
able to find my way through the narrow streets to the Scarlett Point RAF Camp, which is on Arbory Road on
the western edge of town. It was good to find that my foot-locker, which I had shipped from Cranwell five
days earlier, had already arrived.
I was assigned to a hut, which is of identical construction and size to the one we had in Cranwell.
However, there was a good fire going in the stove, and the hut was comfortably warm. The common area
around the stove contained a table with seats, and the area is much better lit that at Cranwell. The beds are the
same as at Cranwell -- no springs, 3 hard "biscuits" which are placed together to form the mattress, a hard
cylindrical pillow that seems to be stuffed with horsehair, and thick wool blankets that haven't been washed in
eons. However, I’ve become used to that, and the hut seems like it will be a satisfactory place to live. I was
given a very warm welcome, perhaps partly because the station is very short of mechanics. A good percent-
51
age of the mechanics here are Canadians (RCAF). My first impression is very good, and I am anxious to get
to work and use some of the knowledge I gained at Cranwell.
Scarlett Point RAF Camp
Castletown, Isle of Man, Wednesday, Jan. 28, 1942 - I spent most of the day going through the
usual routine when checking in at a new post. Everyone I met seemed helpful and polite. Quite a
change from Cranwell.
My Hovis booklet of touring maps that I bought in Bournemouth shows that the Island is nearly 35
miles long in the NE-SW direction, and about 12 miles wide through the middle part of the Island. It has centrally located mountains. The tops of the highest mountains are now covered with snow, but there is no snow
at lower elevations. Today, the weather is nice, except for a hard wind, which I expect blows often. Castletown is on the coast near the southern end of the Island. It has a bay with an outer harbour, and a small picturesque inner harbour adjacent to Castle Rushen. The boats are left high and dry at low tide. The C.O., Flight
Lt. Walters, talked with me about what I’m expected to do. They obviously don’t know what my status is, but
he appeared to have very reasonable expectations concerning me. I don’t anticipate any problems.
Thursday, Jan. 29, 1942 - Today I had a sample of what my work will be, and I’m quite pleased
with it. It does look like it could be a 7 day a week job because of the shortage of radio mechanics. However,
they expect that to improve soon. There is quite a setup here, and I understand that it is one of the best. There
are two complete RDF stations, a main CH and an auxiliary CH, at the technical site ("A" site), which is at
Scarlett Point, located on the southern tip of the Island. The technical site is a little over a mile by road from
the RAF Camp ("B" site) on Arbory Road in Castletown. The Camp, where we live, is the domestic facility
where the barracks, cookhouse and mess hall, Commanding Officer’s office, quartermaster supply hut, and
the infirmary are located. I understand that there are also other radiolocation sites on the Island. Since I’m
quartered with the airmen, I will have to do my share of scrubbing the hut and other things. They obviously
consider that I’m to have the same duties as the RAF and RCAF radio mechanics. I’m told that there is very
little military discipline here. So far, so good.
52
#33 -- Map of the Isle of Man.
53
#34 -- Map of Scarlett Point showing the location of the Red Gap D/F st ation, the RAF
Scarlett Point RDF Technical Site (A Site), and the RAF Dom e stic Cam p (B Site)
54
Friday, Jan. 30, 1942 - Except for two or three mechanics performing the daily maintenance, the
mechanics are now divided into 3 shifts, with a system of rotation that causes the mechanics not to work the
same shift all of the time. I understand that if there were a full complement of mechanics, they would be divided into 4 shifts. Today, I was assigned to work with Corporal Wooding to do the daily maintenance. This
is much better than being assigned to a shift, because I was able to see all of the facilities. Corporal Wooding
seems to be a fine fellow. He has just returned from Gibraltar, and says that they have good locating equipment there and that it is very effective. He said that due to the secrecy, not much is said about the radiolocation system, but he believes that it has been a major factor in saving the British Isles. The decrease in bombing raids the past year is largely attributed to the existence of the Chain Home system. When the Germans
come on a bombing run, the RAF is ready and waiting for them. At this station, there are four 325 ft. steel,
guyed towers (masts), which support the two sets of transmitting curtain arrays (Main and Standby). There
are also two 240 ft. self-supporting towers made of wood. One is not equipped with aerials, and the other.
towers support the main CH receiving dipoles and must be climbed at regular intervals for cleaning the insulators. We climbed a 240 ft. tower and performed an inspection. One really gets a good view from the top!
Corp. Wooding said that some of the men have a fear of the tower, and since I didn’t seem to mind it, he was
going to make that one of my jobs. The 325 ft. steel towers are not climbed as the performance of the curtain
arrays that they support can be determined by electrical measurements made from the ground. The array can
also be inspected by telescope. When necessary, the curtain arrays were lowered by large winches.
Saturday, Jan. 31, 1942 - I have been struck by the lack of weapons that we have had. At Cranwell,
we were supposed to defend the post with wooden clubs in case of an invasion. I had asked the Sergeant i/c
our hut at Cranwell what I was supposed to do with it, and he had said, "Stand behind the door and crack their
skulls as they come in." I know that was a joke, but it is no more a joke than the weapon itself. When I had
told him that I was supposed to be a non-combatant, he had said, "You are!" Here at the Scarlett Technical
Site we also have wooden clubs. Our C.O., Flt. Lt. Walters, ordered that nails be driven into them to increase
their efficiency. Also, he ordered that we be provided with sticks with bayonets attached to the end, which are
called "pikes". True, we have some very old Boor War rifles, and a few Sten guns, but not enough to go
around. Actually, the facility has armed guards, and ground gunners with machine guns who are responsible
for defense of the facility, but I guess they think we shouldn’t be without anything to do in case of an attack. I
understand that we will all get rifle practice at a rifle range from time to time. At least, that is one thing I can
do well. Tomorrow is Sunday, but I’ve been told to report to work. The war must go on.
Sunday, Feb. 1, 1942 - It has been raining ever since I have been here. Not hard -- but hard enough
to keep the ground very muddy. I have never been issued a raincoat, and haven’t seen anyone else with one.
Instead, we were issued a rectangular piece of oilcloth called a "ground sheet", which can hardly keep anyone
dry. Corp. Wooding and I did maintenance on the RF7 receiver and the MB2 transmitter. Most of the maintenance consists of taking meter readings and making sure that the equipment is in perfect working order. There
are only some basic instruments here for doing repair and maintenance on the equipment. We have general
purpose "AVO" meters, which measure amps, volts, and ohms, and a "Megger", which measures high resistances (like leakage). There is also a signal generator, called the "Sig Gennie", which is used to generate
input signals for making gain measurements or for alignment of RF and IF stages. There is also a device for
measuring the power output of the transmitter, and a device for measuring the standing wave on the open wire
transmission lines. The MB2 transmitting has some built-in instrumentation, including a Cathode Ray Tube
(CRT), which is used in monitoring or troubleshooting. We have no good hand tools. There is a radiotelegraph station here, and the operator can copy only about 15 w.p.m. In the States, point-to-point radio telegraphers must copy a minimum of 35 w.p.m. just to get a job. I can copy around 45 w.p.m. The operator’s name
is Dick Haslam, and he is a nice fellow who lives in our hut.
Monday, Feb. 2, 1942 - The RAF and RCAF men consider me to be one of them, which I appreciate
very much. The food here is much better than at Cranwell, but it is still recognizable as RAF cookhouse food.
I’m told that there is a restaurant in town where one can sometimes get ham, an egg, or both. I haven’t had
55
time to try that yet. There has been no problem in getting sweets, as most of the stores usually have some kind
of candy. Even chocolate is sometimes available, but then only one piece to a customer.
Tuesday, Feb. 3, 1942 - It was not very uncomfortable when I went up on the 240 ft. tower with
Corp. Wooding, but he told me that when it is cold, windy, and wet, working on the tower could be a bonechilling, miserable job. There are two ways to get to the "A" site from the "B" site. One can ride in the lorry
(or walk) along a route that goes through Castletown and along the scenic coastal Scarlett Point Road, or one
can walk in a more or less direct route through the farmland. Part of the way, one can walk along the top of a
field wall. The latter route is used by many of the mechanics and operators when the weather is good. A few
have bicycles, and they ride the coastal road when the weather permits. I should not have sold my bike when I
left Cranwell. The tide here is very large. When the tide goes down, it leaves strange looking seaweed on the
rocky beach. It smells strongly of iodine. I understand that the farmers haul it away and use it for fertilizer.
Working with Sgt. Wooding is fun. He is a fine fellow, knows his job, and answers all of my questions. I’m
enjoying the day work, but I expect I will be put on a watch before long. That would give me some time off.
Wednesday, Feb. 4, 1942 - It continues to rain, and water that was standing in a low place on the
camp got so deep that the local fire department was called out to pump it off. An American Signal Corps officer has been posted here to learn more about RDF. He went through the school at Cranwell, and will be sent
back to the states when he has completed his training. He is a nice fellow, but as I’m dressed in an airman’s
uniform our contacts are limited to brief encounters while on duty.
Thursday, Feb. 5, 1942 - I go on regular shifts tomorrow. It will be better because I won’t have to
work as long at a time. It works on a rotating basis, and I sometimes will get a night shift. Then, I will be able
to do things in the daytime and still grab a few hours of sleep. I understand that when there are no problems
with the equipment, it is possible to get some sleep while on night watch. We pass in front of Castle Rushen
when we ride the lorry to the technical site. It faces the square, and the inner harbour is located behind it. I
don’t know whether one can go in it, but I intend to try. I’ve been told that there is a CHL type radiolocation
station at Cregneish, which is located on a mountain not far from here. Near that station is an ancient stone
circle, called Meayll Circle, perhaps like Stonehenge, but on a very small scale. I will have to read about it
and see it when I can.
Friday, Feb. 6, 1942 - These night watches are not at all bad. There is no maintenance to be done unless something breaks down. I have plenty of time to study, and can even get a few hours of sleep on a cot
that is more comfortable than my bed at camp. I wish I could be put on a regular night watch. That would
give me time in the day to explore Castletown and nearby places. Here is my schedule: Tomorrow I work
from 1 PM until 6 PM. The next morning, I work from 8 AM until 1 PM. I then work again from 12 Midnight
until 8 AM. I have the rest of that day off and the next day work from 6 PM until 12 Midnight. That’s a lot
better than my previous day shift. However, the day shift has the advantage that one gets to do some technical
work every day. I still have the cold that I had all while I was at Cranwell.
Saturday, Feb. 7, 1942 - I have been impressed by the good attitude existing here among the men. It
could be due in part to the much better food we get here. Also, there are no difficult tests which we must pass,
or suffer the consequences. Since they are all military, they know their rank, what to expect and what the
rules are. In addition, the C.O. doesn’t seem to be imposing silly and unnecessary duties or restrictions on
them. Also, the Technical Officer (T.O.) has hardly made his presence known. Whatever the reason, the fact
is that all of the men here seem happy and there is a genuine friendship between them. The work rules permit
the mechanics to trade watches without first requesting approval, so any mechanic wanting to take the day off
has no problem swapping his shift with another mechanic. I’ve not yet met many of the local people, but I’m
told that the native Manx people are very superstitious. They believe in fairies and declare that Castle Rushen
is haunted by a "White Lady" that has been seen by numerous people. There is a highway bridge and also a
train bridge that crosses a stream named Santon Burn between here and Douglas. Manx people believe, or
pretend to believe, that fairies live under the bridge, and when passing over the bridge they remove their hats
and speak a greeting to the fairies. How quaint!
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Photo by Jim Farrior
#35 -- Victorian train at the station in Castl etown, I.O.M. -- 1942
Note written in 2002: The railway developed quickly in Britain due to the large supply of coal and
also industries that required heavy transportation. Initially the Isle of Man lacked both, and also the required
funding, which caused the railway to be slow in coming. By 1870, the need had increased, due in part to the
growth of tourism. Plans were made that would result in the construction over the next several years of 46
miles of steam railway lines, facilities, and the acquisition of engines and rolling stock to provide rail service
to the towns of Port Erin, Castletown, Douglas, Peel, Foxdale, St. John’s, Ramsey, and in-between towns. As
passenger service was important, a narrow 3 foot gauge was selected over even narrower gauges in order to
minimize the uncomfortable ”rocking” caused by uneven roadbeds. The final section of the steam railway
system, which connected St. John’s to Ramsey by way of Kirk Michael, was completed in 1879. Although the
railway system provided much needed freight and passenger services, there was a constant struggle to remain
financially viable during the many changes in demands created by the two World Wars, the changes in tourism and industry, and the advent of motor bus service on the island. Today, the only steam route that still exists is the route that runs south from Douglas, through Ballasalla and Castletown, to Port Erin.
In addition to the steam railway, an electric railway was built in the 1890s, which ran from the north
side of Douglas through Laxey to Ramsey. A spur line ran from Laxey to the summit of Snaefel. The electric
railway is still in existence, and most of the rolling stock is original, or was added shortly afterward. End
note.
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#37 -- Left: Jim Farrior dem onstrating the na rrow 3foot gauge of the I.O.M. Rai lway track.
Sunday, Feb. 8, 1942 - There is a Canadian here, Ian
Cameron, who came over on the Andes when I did. I didn’t
know him, but he also attended Cranwell at the same time that
I did. He is a fine fellow, and I feel a kind of fellowship with
him. I plan to take a tour through Castle Rushen tomorrow.
One can get a conducted tour for 6d, which seems to me to be
unusually reasonable.
#36 – Dim inutive flat cars of the Isle of Man Steam Railway on a siding at the Castletown Railway St ati on. -- 1942
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Monday, Feb. 9, 1942 - Today I went through Castle Rushen, which is supposed to be one of the
best preserved castles of its period. It is nearly 1,000 years old, and is in very good condition. Over the years,
it has been modified and restored, but it still resembles the oldest of the existing paintings. It has played an
important role in the history of the Island. A caretaker, who was also the guide, showed me through. I was the
only one there, and he spent a lot of time with me. He offered to tell me much more the next time I go there.
The ancient clock mounted in the main tower facing Market Square is said to have been presented by Queen
Elizabeth I to the Third Earl of Derby in the 1500s. It is still running, and has only an hour hand. I was allowed to wind it. I bought a guide booklet, and took a few photos, including one of the guide comparing his
hand to the cast of the huge hand of a giant that he said had lived there. I want to return again to take some
more photos and learn more about the castle.
#43 -- The front of Ca stle Rushen
as viewed from Castletown Ma rket
Square. Feb. 9, 1942
Tuesday, Feb. 10, 1942 - I have met
a very interesting RAF airman here named
Freddy Grice, He is about 35 years old, and
he used to be a school professor, and among
other things, he taught English and foreign
languages. He says that he speaks French
about as well as English. He has a lot of
knowledge and interest in English history,
and is very familiar with the birds and plant
life of the country. He is presently studying
Manx history. Radio is really not his thing,
but he has mastered enough of it to serve as a
mechanic. He marvels at my technical ability
as much as I do at his professional skills. We
have taken a few walks through the countryside, and a walk with him is like a lecture.
He has been very helpful in answering my
many questions about the English culture and
the things that we were seeing. He has also
answered a lot of questions that I have about
French pronunciation. The weather is better
now and is not so cold. However, I still have
a bad cold.
Wednesday, Feb. 11, 1942 - Kodak film is difficult to get here, and strangely the only roll that I have
been able to buy was very outdated. Why had it not been sold earlier? I get quick and good developing and
printing by taking my exposed film to Mr. J. T. Quine, a Photographic Chemist on Arbory Street. I hope that
they are washing out the hypo fixer sufficiently so that the negatives and prints will not deteriorate. A nice
thing about a small town like Castletown is that one has a personal relationship with those who provide services or run shops. In that respect, it is like the little town of Letohatchie, Ala., where I was raised, except that
Letohatchie had only 200 people who lived in town, and several hundred more in the surrounding countryside. There is a place in Castletown in a building opposite the castle where service men and women can get
tea and cakes. It is called the British Legion, and is very convenient. I often go to the Legion when I go to
Castletown, and have come to like hot tea. At home, I only drank tea ice cold. I really believe that I prefer it
to coffee. We can sometimes get a doughnut at the Legion. The doughnuts here don’t have a hole in them,
59
and some have a very small amount of jelly inside. I don’t think it would be possible to get this anywhere in
England.
Castletown, I.O.M, Thursday, Feb. 12, 1942 - The names of many of the towns here begin with
Balla, like Ballasalla, and Ballabeg, which are near here. It is a Manx word meaning small village or farm. In
the case of Ballabeg, the beg means small. I have learned about a good book about the Isle of Man. It is "In
Praise of Manxland" and is written by Maxwell Fraser. It covers both the historical background and the presently existing points of interest. A copy of the book is in the common room, and I have already read part of it.
If I can find a copy, I will buy it. We received some bad war news today. Germany made a run from Brest to
Heligoland with some battleships, and we lost 40 airplanes in the attempt to stop them.
#39 -- Mrs. Stevenson and Fred Grice in the Stevenson's home, Heron Dene, Ballasalla, Isle of Man. Feb. 13, 1942
Castletown, I.O.M., Friday, Feb. 13, 1942 - I could not help but notice that it was Friday the thirteenth. However, everything that happened to me today was very good. This evening, Freddy Grice took me
to visit some friends of his in Ballasalla, which is about 3 miles north of Castletown. They were all very nice
people. The man, Mr. Stevenson, is a schoolmaster. His oldest daughter, Margaret, who is a few years older
than I am, is one of the head people at the Manx Museum in Douglas. Another daughter, Mary, who is a few
years younger than I am, works in a jam factory at Rushen Abbey, in Ballasalla. A son was captured in Europe before the British pulled out at Dunkirk, and he is in a prisoner of war camp in Germany. They expressed great concern for his welfare. When I mentioned how cold I had found the climate to be, Margaret
said that she would knit me a pair of gloves (mittens). We were there for tea, and they served a soft-boiled
egg in an eggcup, the first time I had seen one. They showed me how to clip off the top of the egg and eat the
egg from the shell. Delicious! We stayed there until late, and Mrs. Stevenson made us promise to visit them
60
again. I’ve never met a nicer family. Their radio is out of commission, so I must go there some time soon and
fix it. It was a wonderful evening, but I felt guilty enjoying life so much when there is a war going on.
Saturday, Feb. 14, 1942 -This morning, Freddy Grice and I took a long walk around the countryside.
He identified many of the birds and plants that we saw. We went into a cemetery and looked at some of the
dates on the tombstones. Some went back to the 1500s! There were some slate stones on exhibit that were
much older than that. They were covered with strange carvings. We got back about 1 PM just in time for me
to go to work.
Castletown, I.O.M., Sunday, Feb. 15, 1942 - This morning, despite the cold, damp, windy weather,
we had to take down the curtain array from the 325-foot towers near T Block-1 to make a repair and to clean
the insulators. Letting it down with the winch was a slow process, and as it was lowered, we had to spread it
out on the ground so we could work on it. The towers are located near the edge of the sea, and the cold wind
was blowing directly off the sea. It was a miserable day of work. We got the array down, made the repair, and
cleaned the insulators. Putting it back up was not easy, as everything had to be kept untangled as the array
was cranked back up. When it was finally back in place, we examined it with a telescope and found to our
dismay that some of the open wire feeders had become twisted. That meant that it must come down again.
The work had not been finished when I got off at 5 PM. We have a standby transmitter block, T Block-2,
which has an identical MB2 transmitter and curtain array that we use when the main one is being repaired. In
a field to the east of the transmitting towers used with T Block 2, is a dummy (decoy) transmitter block. It is
not actually a block, but a flimsy construction made to look like a poorly camouflaged block. Sometimes,
when an inexperienced radio mechanic arrives at Scarlett, the location of the dummy block is pointed out, and
he is directed to "go there and assist the mechanic who is repairing the dummy MB2 transmitter". If he is a
"dummy" radio mechanic, he will go there before he realizes that it is a joke.
Castletown, I.O.M., Monday, Feb. 16, 1942 - I went to work as usual today but was not feeling so
well. Yesterday’s episode in the cold wind nearly did me in. The cold is still with me and I’m bothered by my
sinuses. I certainly will be glad when summer comes. This weather does not go well with me. Manx people
go in for brass door knockers, brass door knobs, and other brass ornaments in and outside their homes. They
spend a great deal of time polishing them. I was told a story, surely just a joke to make a point, that there is a
town in Lancashire where people polish the trolley rails in front of their houses. I wish they would be that
careful with their eating utensils. At restaurants and at camp, I often get dirty tableware.
Castletown, I.O.M., Tuesday, Feb. 17, 1942 - This morning I felt so bad that I went to the infirmary
and Dr. Stephens examined me and gave me some medicine and 24 hours off. This is the first time I have
been sick in years, and the first ear ache I’ve ever had. Dr. Stephens says that it is due to my sinuses. I like
Dr. Stephens. He seems to be a fine doctor and a kind man. He has a private practice and usually comes to the
camp only when there is someone to be seen. When he enters the camp, he always gives the Churchill "V"
sign to everybody he sees. I spent the day in the hut, reading some of my books and other material. I also answered the recently received letters from Mother and Bill Colvard. Part of the day was spent working with the
scrap radio and the parts that I bought when I was in London. I managed to put together a simple radio that
works after a fashion, but I can make it much better when I can get it to the "A" site where I will have access
to test instruments and more tools. I felt terrible all day.
Castletown, I.O.M., Wednesday, Feb. 18, 1942 - In accordance with Dr. Stephens’ instructions, I
reported to the sick bay again this morning. He examined me and put me to bed. This bed is more comfortable
than my regular bed, as it has springs, a one-piece mattress, and a normal pillow. I could really use a few days
resting on a bed like this! Paddy Graham is the corporal in charge of the sick bay. He is from Ireland, and he
takes good care of me. Tonight, he managed to get a radio for my use. There are two of us in this room. The
other is a young AC1 airman named Davis, who is a radio operator at the fighter station near here. I spent
most of my time today reading a technical book on television, which is far more advanced in England than in
the U.S. Many of the circuits and components used in television sets are the same as, or very similar to, those
used in our radiolocation equipment. For that reason, they are easy for me to understand.
61
Castletown, I.O.M., Thursday, Feb. 19, 1942 - Although I’m comfortable and happy that I’m not
having to climb the towers feeling like I do, time does pass slowly in bed. Paddy gives me tea several times a
day, and at mealtimes. Also, I’ve had some visitors. Wood (a radio mechanic), Freddy Grice, Johnny Channer, and Sgt. Williams came to see me. Sgt. Williams is a good CH operator, and is in charge of one of the
operator’s watches. He has been largely responsible for the good record this station has as to accuracy of the
plots. Unfortunately, he is being transferred, and came by to say goodbye. I will be sorry to see him leave. He
has been promoted to Flight Sgt. and will be permanently attached to 77 Wing headquarters in Liverpool. I
assume that he will travel to the different RDF stations and to the filter room in Preston. Perhaps he will visit
Scarlett from time to time. I spent some time today writing letters home.
Saturday, Feb. 21, 1942 - Doctor Stephens looked in my ear this morning, and declared that I must
remain in bed. I suppose that means that I will be in here until Monday. I feel much better now. The cold that
I have had ever since I was in Canada also seems to be better. The view out my window is awful. All that I
can see is the blast wall that surrounds this building. It is a thick brick wall that is supposed to protect against
blasts and shrapnel from nearby bomb hits. Personally, I’d rather take the chance and be able to have a view
of the outside.
Sunday, 22, 1942 - Tonight we had a fabulous supper. Scotty bought some steak and eggs and
brought it to the sick bay, where Paddy, Davis, and I prepared it on the stove. We sat down and devoured it in
real style. I don’t know how Scotty managed to make that purchase, but I’m not one to complain about good
fortune.
Monday, Feb. 23, 1942 - Doctor Stephens looked me over and turned me out, -- just when I was getting used to this fine life style! It was about noon when I got out, so I didn’t have to go to work today. The
day was spent mending some clothing that has needed it for some time. I feel better now than I have felt in a
long time. I’m really ready to get back to work!
The following is a poem that is going around the camp. I don’t know who wrote it:
Upon This Bloody Island!
You’ve got to come by bloody boat
The bloodiest wreck a bloody float
Enough to get one’s bloody goat
Upon this bloody Island!
The bloody town’s a bloody cuss
No bloody trains, no bloody bus
Nobody cares for bloody us
Upon this bloody Island!
The bloody hills are bloody high
They reach up to the bloody sky
You’ve got to be a bloody fly
Upon this bloody Island!
(continued)
62
The bloody railway needs repair
The bloody wheels are bloody square
But no one seems to bloody care
Upon this bloody Island!
The bloody meat is bloody tough
You cannot eat the bloody stuff
You soon have had e-bloody-nough
Upon this bloody Island!
The bloody band is bloody vile
It sounds just like a bloody file
It even cramps your bloody style
Upon this bloody Island!
The bloody flicks are bloody old
The bloody seats are always sold
You can’t get in for bloody gold
Upon this bloody Island!
The best place is bloody bed
With bloody ice on bloody head
You might as well be bloody dead
As on this bloody Island!
Tuesday, Feb. 24, 1942 - Today, I took the new Canadians up on the 240 foot receiving tower and
explained the aerial systems. It was the first time some of them had ever climbed a tall structure, and a couple
of them were literally wild eyed and shaking with fear. The weather now seems to be better than it has been. I
hope summer will hurry and come. In some of the yards, the early bulbs are beginning to come up.
Wednesday, Feb. 25, 1942 - My friends from the sick bay and I decided to have a real feast. I agreed
to pay for some food, if the others would get it and prepare it in the sick bay. Scotty, using his secret sources,
obtained some steak, ham, eggs, bread, and tea. I reimbursed him the 7s 8d that it cost. I had expected that it
would cost more. Although a good variety, it was not a large quantity, but quite sufficient. Paddy and Davis
prepared the food on the stove in the sick bay. We went into the doctor’s office, put a sheet on his desk, and
ate in style. We didn’t leave a crumb. I wonder what Doctor Stephens would say if he knew his desk had been
used that way. The event was downright indecent, considering the food shortage, but I would do it again if I
had the opportunity.
Thursday, Feb. 26, 1942 - Today was my day off, and Freddy Grice and I went for a long hike. I
took a few pictures. We went to Ballabeg, and from there we went to Port St. Mary. From there, we hiked up
the mountain to the Cregneish CHL site. It is located near a group of interesting old houses and outbuildings,
some of them unoccupied, which must be the village of Cregneish shown on my map. Since we had not made
prior arrangements, we didn’t try to visit the CHL site, but instead went to the nearby ancient stone circle
known as Meayll (or Mull) Circle. The stone circle is described in a small booklet that I have. It was built
about 2,000 BC, and is much destroyed. Excavations determined that there had been six pairs of burial chambers arranged in a circle.
63
#41 -- Jim Farrior enjoys a breath -taki ng view of the Calf of Man and Spa nish
Head. Beyond the Calf of Man, to the left, can be seen the Chicken Rock Lighthouse.
Notice the heather, t he gas m ask, the great coat, and m y I.O.M. Ordnance Map that I
still have. -- Feb. 26, 1942
From Cregneish, we went down to the Sound and looked across to the Calf of Man. It is a
bird preserve, and nobody is allowed to go there now. From the Sound, we climbed the bluffs and
walked along a high, scenic route enjoying the fantastic scenery. We stopped at a place where we
had a wonderful view of Spanish Head with the Calf of Man in the background. Our hike continued
along the high path, descended to Port St. Mary, and then on back along the road to Castletown. I
took some pictures, which I hope will turn out well. It was a most interesting day, and we hiked a
total distance of about 17 miles. Boy! I will sleep well tonight!
64
#40 -- Freddy Grice and Jim Farrior at Harry Kelly's Cottage, Cregneish, I.O.M. -- Feb 26 , 1942
Note: After the war, this house and some others in the vicinity became part of the Cregneish Folk Museum. End note.
65
#42 -- Freddy Grice and Jim Farrior clowning on a dry stone wall near Port St. Mary.
Feb. 26, 1942
Friday, Feb. 27, 1942 - My legs were somewhat sore from the walk I had yesterday. Until yesterday,
I had not done a great amount of walking. There are more Canadians here now, and I now have a few on my
side when we get in arguments in the hut. Previously, I practically stood alone.
Saturday, Feb. 28, 1942 - The tides here are very high. This morning, when I was walking along the
coastal road to the "A" site, the water was about 150 yards from the road. At noon, when I returned to "B" site
for lunch, the waves were breaking over the wall by the road. When the tide is out, the seaweed that is left
lying on the rocks gives off an odor that is somewhat like iodine.
Sunday, Mar. 1, 1942 - March certainly is coming in like a lion. The wind is blowing hard, and it is
foggy and cold. I’m doing a lot of studying when I can. Right now I’m studying aerial systems and radio in
general. The war is causing many men to be trained in radio, so I anticipate that after the war there will be
much competition for a limited number of radio jobs. That was my work before the war, and I want to continue in that field, but hopefully not as a telegraph operator. There is simply no future in that. I intend to take full
advantage of the time and opportunities I have to learn math and radio, both theory and practice. Freddy has
gone on leave. He lives in Durham County, near the Great Roman Wall. It is a pity that the RAF is not taking
advantage of his education and experience.
Monday, Mar. 2, 1942 - The weather is still bad. While I was on watch, trouble developed in the
equipment in the main receiving and operating block. All of the returns seemed to be coming from the same
direction, which indicated a problem with the receiving aerial, the feeder system, or the goniometer. The
problem was quickly traced to a broken lead in the goniometer, and it had to be partially disassembled, repaired, and realigned. The system was down for less than an hour. We have a new C.O. and he is very strict
66
about the huts. We have to polish the floors more often and do other things that I don’t like. I’m not supposed
to have to do that kind of thing, but it is not worth complaining about.
Tuesday, Mar. 3, 1942 – Tonight Cpl. Allen, Paddy, Scotty, Davis and I had another supper at the
sick bay. I’m sure the new C.O. would not approve if he knew. This time, Davis bought the food, and we had
ham and eggs. Paddy supplied and fixed the tea, and everything was delicious. We have not told anybody
about our suppers, because it is the kind of thing that could not be opened up to more people than we had tonight. During our supper, I mentioned to Cpl. Allen, who works in stores, that I needed another pair of shoes,
and he said he would try to get them for me. It’s good to have friends in high places. Pretty good food can be
obtained at restaurants in town, especially if one has a friend in the restaurant business, but the food in the
mess hall is strictly RAF mess hall food -- not very tasty, monotonous, and not a well-rounded diet. When the
rest of the camp were struggling through their supper tonight, they didn’t dream that close by a few other
camp members were enjoying a feast. I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not overcome by that feeling.
Wednesday, Mar. 4, 1942 - The weather has been unusually bad. We had some trouble on the tower,
but since it is minor, and not critical, we didn’t go up on the tower to fix it. It has been very foggy. The foghorn located on Langness Point has been blowing loudly every 45 seconds, and gives one a dismal feeling.
We call the foghorn "Moaning Minnie", and we hear it a lot. I got the photos back from Mr. Quine that Freddy and I took last Thursday. They were pretty good. One of Freddy and me at a thatched roof cottage at Cregneish was especially good. Tonight, I went down town and had supper at Anne’s Supper Bar with LAC
George Ashley, who has been here at Scarlett longer than any other radio mechanic. He expects to be promoted to Cpl. very soon. One can always get a good supper at Anne's Supper Bar. It is owned and operated by
Vernie Vanwell, a Manx lady who has lived in the U.S. She has been very kind, and seems to think it is her
business to take good care of me. George Ashley is the one responsible for setting up the watches and for determining what special maintenance must be done. He complains that he has much paper work to do. George
is a very experienced and competent radio mechanic and sometimes participates in the daily maintenance or
does trouble shooting when there are difficult problems. I get along with George very well, and have learned
a lot from him. He is from London.
Thursday, Mar. 5, 1942 - My day off. All of the stores on the Island close on Thursday afternoon,
which makes this a bad day to be off duty. The weather is still bad, so I stayed in, wrote letters, and studied.
Friday, Mar. 6, 1942 - Many of the personnel at this station are being posted. I understand that some
are being posted overseas. We will probably get some new inexperienced radio mechanics. The same thing
happens with respect to the operators, most of whom are WAAFs. It seems that as soon as we get everything
working smoothly at the station, the situation changes with respect to the personnel. The war news is not encouraging. This war will probably last for years. When I arrived in England, there was a considerable concern
about the possibility of England being invaded. Now, with the United States in the war, I believe that there is
little chance of that happening. Soon, the reverse should be true. The Germans will be worrying about an invasion from England.
Saturday, Mar. 7, 1942 - We sometimes have officers from 77 Wing headquarters in Liverpool
come here on inspection trips. If they are administrative types who are interested in housekeeping and camp
affairs, they deal mostly with the C.O. Others are technical types who walk through the technical blocks looking at the equipment and asking a few stock questions. They never pay us a surprise visit, so we know when
to shine the floors and otherwise get ready. They are relatively harmless, except for causing a slight disruption in our normal routines. I have been impressed with how well kept the Island is, considering the problems
caused by the war. The gardens and farmland are well cared for, and the stone walls and hedgerows are in
reasonably good repair. The stone houses in town, although very old, seem to be in good repair and the people
can often be seen cleaning their windows.
Sunday, Mar. 8, 1942 - Although the watches are scheduled the same on Sunday as any other day,
very little work is done unless there is a problem of some kind. We usually have plenty of time to read, study,
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or write letters. This is by far the easiest and most enjoyable job that I have ever had. It is not work, as I have
known it.
Monday, Mar. 9, 1942 - I’m not yet used to these narrow streets. On Arbory Street, where our camp
is located, there is just space for one automobile to get through without difficulty. The locals have a saying,
"There is not room to swing a cat!" However, it's just another one of those things that add to the charm of
Castletown. Castletown has small movie house called the Cosy Cinema, and it is really “cosy” if they mean
that the people are packed together. Notice the English spelling. The British people often use the letter “s”
where Americans use “s”. Smoking is allowed during the show, and the smoke is so thick that it burns my
eyes. Some big breaths of fresh air are greatly appreciated when one comes out! There are many airmen and
soldiers here, making it hard to get a seat. They change the film twice a week, and sometimes have double
headers. Somebody is making a pot of money!
Tuesday, Mar. 10, 1942 - Mr. Joseph Qualtrough is speaker of the House of Keys, and he and his
wife are very fine people. They have had some of us from the camp over for supper on several occasions.
Right now there is a big argument going on in the House of Keys about whether or not Manx women should
be called up for military service. Mr. Qualtrough says that he is very much against it because a rather large
percentage of the women have already volunteered. Note: (2003) See Mrs. Fred Cooil’s letter to me dated
March 31, 1960, wherein she tells of the death, by automobile accident, of Sir Joseph Qualtrough. End note.
Wednesday, Mar. 11, 1942 - One of the technical men from 77 Wing has been here for the past few
days and has been changing things around. We have made some changes in the aerials and have been burying
some of the concentric (coaxial) feeders. For that purpose, I’ve had to dig some ditches. I had not thought that
ditch digging would be one of my duties as a radio mechanic. However, I’ve dug ditches before, and I can use
the exercise.
Thursday, Mar. 12, 1942 - Today was my day off, but the weather is so bad I stayed in the hut and
studied trigonometry. Freddy Harvey, who is the C.M.E. (Computer Maintenance engineer) in charge of the
coordinate computer (called the "Fruit Machine"), is very good at math, and has been helping me. With his
help, I have made considerable progress. It is important that I learn trig well, because it is necessary in solving alternating current problems and in designing aerial systems.
Friday, Mar. 13, 1942 - Friday the 13th! I walked carefully all day and got through the day without
mishap. The weather remains awful, and today it has been foggy enough to cause "Moaning Minnie" to moan
all day. When I went up on the tower, it was impossible to see the ground. I will be glad when summer
comes, if it does.
Mar. 14, 1942 - It seems that everybody here likes a good argument. I have been faring better since
the Canadians arrived. In return, I always take their side. Just like we in the States have much North vs. South
arguing, the Canadians have East vs. West arguing. I always steer clear of those subjects. I did think that
Montreal was a very nice place, and Halifax was also very interesting, but know nothing about the rest of
Canada, and their politics. However, I’m beginning to learn more.
Sunday, Mar. 15, 1942 - I received a letter from Mr. Gill at CTC headquarters asking me to advise
him if I would be willing to accept overseas service with RAF discipline. That is very interesting, but I like
my present posting very much and will have to give it some serious thought. I take it that no reply is required
unless I wish to accept it.
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#136 -- A Letter from CTC Headquarters
I stayed at the station until nearly midnight building a semi-automatic telegraph key (bug). The station has a pretty good junk box in which we put materials and parts removed when we modify the equipment.
In our junk box, I found enough suitable small nuts and bolts, and other materials, for my project. That station
has only very basic tools, but Jeff Howes, from 77 Wing, is here and he let me use his tools. I got most of it
constructed, but there are still some things to be done, such as drilling holes in some clock-spring material.
Monday, Mar. 16, 1942 - I spent most of the evening writing letters, which I have been putting off. I
wrote to Albert Smith (Smitty), Margaret Boyd, Jimmy Coleman, and also a letter home. Smitty, who was a
very good friend, is one of the telegraph operators at WVR in Atlanta, where I worked before entering the
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CTC. When I left, I sold him my bike. He wrote me that shortly after I left, the bike broke. I told him that
when I get back, I’d fix it for him. The weather is absolutely terrible. The deep vibrant sound of "Moaning
Minnie" is etched into my brain. At times like this, I wonder why anyone inhabits a place with climate like
this. However, when the weather is good, it is a very nice place indeed.
Tuesday, Mar. 17, 1942 - I was told, but not officially, that the new C.O. came through the hut today
and ordered that my radio, "The Voice of Alabama", be removed from the hut. I had heard at Cranwell that
the RAF rules don’t allow radios in huts, although we had one there until the man with the radio was moved
to another hut. The previous C.O. never said anything about it. It is in plain sight on the table near the stove in
the center of the hut where the men play poker, usually at night, but sometimes in the day. I think playing
poker is also against the rules. Everybody in the hut likes the radio. If he tells me to remove it, I’ll keep it out
of sight except when I want to listen to it.
#74 -- Playing cards in the hut -- Top, L to R, Stan Collier, Roy Th om as, Dick Haslam ,
Bob Shepherd; Bottom , L. to R., Fred Nash, u nknown. -- 1942
Note: See the above photo. Poker was most popular, but other games were also played. This table
was located in the central part of the hut, close to the pot-bellied stove. The table was also used for an ironing
board. The electric iron can be seen on the table. Just behind Dick Haslam, someone is under a blanket trying
to get some sleep. The "Voice of Alabama" is just out of the photo on the right side of the table. Since we
worked shifts, there were usually people trying to get some sleep during the day. A noisy card game and other
activities sometimes made it difficult. End note.
Wednesday, Mar. 18, 1942 - I have saved up enough money to buy some of the things I would like
to have, such as some better wool socks, some non-issue underwear, some more handkerchiefs, etc., but I
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can’t buy them because I don’t have any clothing coupons. Someone told me that I could buy clothing coupons on the black market. There are people who sell some of their coupons so they will have the money they
need to use the remaining ones. However, I understand that it is illegal, and expensive to buy them. I guess
the system is working as intended, because I have everything that I really need.
Thursday, Mar. 19, 1942 - Today is usually my day off, but George Ashley has gone on leave, so I
must perform his duties while he is away. That includes assisting in the daily maintenance, preparing the
watch lists, and other paper work. Although I haven’t been here long, I’m coming up in the world. So many
people have been posted that there are not many that have been here longer than I. One of the WAAFs who
work in the C.O.’s office told me that I have made a good impression on the people who come from 77 Wing,
and I might get a promotion. When I do get a day off, I intend to go to Douglas, as I haven’t been there since I
passed through on my way here. I want to see the Manx Museum, the House of Keys, and some other interesting things. The original House of Keys building is located here in Castletown, on Parliament Square across
the street from Castle Rushen.
Friday, Mar. 20, 1942 - Today we had trouble with the RF7 receiver. It suddenly stopped working,
and I had to repair the first tuned RF stage. After I got off this afternoon, Fred Harvey (Cpl. RAF) and I went
through Castle Rushen, which was my first visit since the original one a few weeks ago. Since I had made
friends with the custodian the last time I went through, we were allowed to go through by ourselves. We really enjoyed it. I had studied the booklet since my first visit, and impressed Fred with my ability as a castle tour
guide. I took several pictures, including one of Freddy and me standing at the foot of the main tower.
#81 -- The entrance t o Castle Rushen. -- The Police Station is at the left, and the Cu stom House is at the right. Castle Street runs betwee n the Police Station and the Castle
entrance, and continues up past Parliam ent Square on the left to the town's Market
Square, on which the castle faces. Fred Harvey, barely in the photo, looks on from the
extrem e right. - Mar. 20, 1942
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Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Saturday, Mar. 21, 1942 - This morning I went
for a walk around Castletown, and took a few pictures, including one of the Inner Harbour that shows how the
boats are left high and dry when the tide goes out.
This afternoon A/C Stan Shutt, Corp. Freddy Harvey, and I took the bus to Douglas. The bus service
on the Island is quite good, and there is a nice bench in Market Square, in front of Rushen Castle and across
the street from the George Hotel, where one can sit and wait on the bus. Using the automatic, delayed shutter
release on my camera, I took a photo of us waiting on the bench. We spent several hours in the Manx Museum and saw many interesting things. Margaret Stevenson was not on duty today. I want to come back when
she can show me through. I bought some old English coins at a shop in Douglas, and after that we went to a
café and had supper. We finished the day by going to the movie. I saw an American sailor standing in the
queue. I guess we will see more Americans now that the U.S. is in the war. After the movie, we caught the
bus back to Castletown. Some people use the word "bloody" very often in their speech in the same way that it
is used in the poem "On this Bloody Island". On the way back from Douglas, the conductor called out the
stops, and he inserted bloody between the syllables of the town names. For instance, he said "Port Sod-ebloody-rick", "Balla-bloody-salla", and Castle-bloody-town. It was an interesting and fun day, and I want to
get back soon and spend more time in the museum.
Photo by Jim Farrior
#45 -- The Inner Har bour at Castletown, I.O.M. In the above photo, the closest boat is
the "Isle of Iona". The houses i n the background m ust be very ol d. -- Mar. 21, 1942
Sunday, Mar. 22, 1942 - The weather the past few days has been almost like spring. When the sun
comes out real bright, the moisture begins to rise from the ground, and it gets so foggy that "Moaning Minnie" on Langness Point begins to blow. I understand that these warm spells last only a few days. Now that
spring is coming, we should soon begin to track more flight activity.
72
Monday, Mar. 23, 1942 - Sgt. Jeff Howes from 77 Wing Headquarters in Liverpool has been here
doing some things to the MB2 transmitters in T Block-1 and T Block-2 and their associated aerial systems. I
have been working with him, and today we measured the standing wave on the feeders at T Block-2. I also
replaced a cracked ceramic insulator on the Main R tower. It is a mystery to me how insulators get cracked
when they are not under strain, but they sometimes do. When they crack, salt builds up in the cracks and affects the accuracy of the bearing measurements. Jeff is a very good man, but he is more technical than domestic, and always leaves it to us to clean up after him and close up the equipment. It sometimes takes a while to
get things back to normal after he has been here.
Tuesday, Mar. 24, 1942 - The weather has turned cold again, as expected. There is an American officer, Second Lieutenant Cowan, here now from South Carolina. He came over under the plan for training
American officers in Radiolocation, both at school and at operational stations. He seems to be a fine fellow,
but appears to know little about RDF. He has stayed in the office and, except for one day when he followed
me around as I did the daily maintenance, he hasn’t exposed himself to the equipment.
#44 -- A/ C Stan Shutt, Jim Farrior, Corp. Freddy Harvey wai ting for the bus in front of
Castle Rushen. -- March 21, 1942
Wednesday, Mar. 25, 1942 -."The Voice of Alabama" that I built from the junk radio that was given
to me and parts that I bought in London, plus some things from our junk box, is still sitting on our table. It
resembles a cardboard box, except that it has a couple of knobs on it. All of us get a lot of enjoyment out of it
because it is our primary source of news, and also some decent entertainment from time to time. I had been
told that the new C.O. had recently ordered it removed when he made his first inspection tour through the hut.
73
Since then, he has made several other inspections and apparently hasn’t repeated his order. I think he has decided to look the other way.
Wednesday, Mar. 25, 1942 -."The Voice of Alabama" that I built from the junk radio that was given
to me and parts that I bought in London, plus some things from our junk box, is still sitting on our table. It
resembles a cardboard box, except that it has a couple of knobs on it. All of us get a lot of enjoyment out of it
because it is our primary source of news, and also some decent entertainment from time to time. I had been
told that the new C.O. had recently ordered it removed when he made his first inspection tour through the hut.
Since then, he has made several other inspections and apparently hasn’t repeated his order. I think he has decided to look the other way.
#75 -- Jim Farrior with cam era
case standing beside a gorse
hedge near Castl etown. When in
bloom , the gorse bushes are
covered with yellow bl ossom s.
Thursday, Mar. 26, 1942- I
spent most of my free time today studying trig. I’ve completed over half of the
book since I’ve been here. If I can get
through the other half, I will have finished a one-semester course in trig. I
haven’t found trig to be very hard to
understand, but there are many things
that must be memorized, which takes
some time. My plan is to finish trig, go
on to advanced algebra, and then begin
calculus. That may be ambitious, but the
war is going to last a while.
Friday, Mar. 27, 1942 - It can
get pretty boring at the "A" site when
everything is working properly. When
we have two on watch, I often find an
excuse to busy myself in the receiver
block where I can watch the operations.
They are very busy indeed whenever the weather is good enough for planes to be in the air, but sometimes
there is not much activity. Freddy Harvey has spent some time explaining his coordinate calculator to me. It
makes a lot of noise when operating. The noise is mostly made by the stepping relays. Most of the problems
with the calculator are caused by dirty relay contacts, so he spends a lot of time burnishing contacts. Rather
dull work. I like my job a lot more than his. Dick Haslam, the telegraph operator who sends the plots by radio, has an easy job. He has nothing to do unless the phone line is out, or they are having routine tests. However, he is on call all of the time and has to get permission to be out of touch for even a few hours. A backup
operator was posted away almost immediately after he arrived, and Dick complains that he hasn’t been able to
take his leave. He has taught me the simple procedures they use, so I have offered to do his work for a while
if I could be relieved of my radio mechanic duties. We are short of radio mechanics, but George Ashley, who
prepares the watch lists, says that he could probably work it in. I’ve worked some of Dick’s routine test
schedules on my own time just for practice. The slow code speed used on the Preston net is rather frustrating.
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Saturday, Mar. 28, 1942 - When we were at the Manx Museum in Douglas recently, Margaret Stevenson, my friend who lives at Heron Dene in Ballasalla and works at the museum, was not on duty. I believe
she is second in command there. She had promised to give me a special tour of the museum when I came
there. I had left a message for her. Today, I received a letter from her today saying that she was sorry that we
had missed her, and she wanted to know why I had not been to see them since the time when Freddy Grice
and I were there before. I really enjoyed my last visit with the Stevensons and must go back soon. I will write
to her. Margaret, who is several years older than I am, is a very smart, cultured, interesting and outgoing person, and a member of a fine, well-educated family. She is unmarried, and I believe that it may be due to the
fact that she is quite crippled in one leg, probably from infantile paralysis. How sad.
Sunday, Mar. 29, 1942 - Sunday and the station is like any other day, except that we usually do only
the work necessary to keep the equipment functioning. I believe we normally do far more maintenance than is
required. If this were a commercial activity, the necessary work would be done better by far fewer people. We
seldom find problems during the normal maintenance tests. The operators are usually the first to know when
something is not working properly. We have a new radio mechanic here now who speaks fluent French. Perhaps I can get some help with pronunciation.
Monday, Mar. 30, 1942 - Just when I think I can’t take the weather any longer, we have a moderate
or good day. Today is very nice outside as long as one doesn’t have to stay in the cold wind. Fortunately, I
didn’t have to climb the towers today.
Tuesday, Mar. 31, 1942 - Today, I wrote a letter to Margaret Stevenson in Ballasalla and explained
why I haven’t been able to pay them a visit. I told her that I was really looking forward to having her show
me through the Manx Museum.
Wednesday, Apr. 1, 1942 - This morning, I did the usual maintenance on the RF7, the MB2, and the
RM3A. The RM3A is the ACH receiver in the R-hut, which is used when the main system is down. It uses
dipoles located on a nearly 100-foot wooden tower beside the R-hut. This afternoon, we had a lecture by Pilot
Officer Pritchard, the Technical Officer. Second Lt. Cowan, the American officer who is here was in attendance. Lt. Cowan seems to be a good chap. It was a good lecture, but I didn’t learn anything new. The newcomers probably got something out of it. To my knowledge, this was the first time that the T.O. has done anything useful. Tonight, Sgt. Clark, who is the principal person in charge of the operators, and Cpl. Wooding,
who usually assists George Ashley, and I went to Douglas on the bus. We saw "The Two Faced Woman" and
returned. The movie houses in Douglas are quite good, but they are also extremely smoky. That detracts a lot
from the pleasure of watching the movie. There is a full moon tonight. It is very clear, and one can see farther
than on many days. Nobody has even mentioned anything about it being April Fools' Day.
Thursday, Apr. 2, 1942 - Today Stafford Millar, RCAF, and I went to Ballasalla to visit the Stevensons. Margaret took us for a very interesting walk. She walks rather well considering her cripple leg. We went
to nearby Rushen Abbey, where we saw the skeleton of a Monk who once lived there. There are only a few
ruins left of the once important abbey. There were the ruins of a tower, and some foundations of other structures. We also saw an ancient stone bridge that was built across the Silverburn River by the Monks who lived
at the abbey. An old carved stone said that it was "Monks Bridge, A.D. 1134". Nearby was an old hotel
named "Ye Old Abbey Hotel". I took some pictures at the Abbey and then returned to the Stevenson’s home,
where we had tea. This was more than we expected because we had arrived without having told them beforehand. Mr. Stevenson rode with us back on the bus back to Castletown, as he had to attend a Home Guard exercise here. He is a Lieutenant in the Home Guard.
Friday, Apr. 3, 1942 - An embarrassing thing happened yesterday while Staff and I were at the Stevensons. They asked us how we liked the English officers, and I’m afraid our answers were not too complimentary. When we got ready to leave, Mr. Stevenson came out dressed in a Lieutenant’s uniform! I’m going
to have to watch what I say. There is a jam plant at Rushen Abbey, and Margaret’s sister, Mary, works there.
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She was not there yesterday when we visited the plant. It is a very small plant, and I wonder how they operate, as both sugar and fruit are very scarce.
#46 -- George Ashley, Jim Farrior, and Harry Wooding on the road between Castl etown
and Port St. Mary -- 1942 This photo was taken by setting the cam era on the curb and
setting the shutter for delayed a ction.
Saturday, Apr. 4, 1942 - Since we have gone on daylight saving time it is long after bedtime before
it gets dark. I understand that it will be midnight before it gets dark when summer comes. Sometimes when I
am on duty, and there is nothing that has to be done, I study math and radio theory. I believe that I’m learning
as much as I could expect. There are a few men here who know much more math than I do, and I can get
some help from them. Some of the men who come from Wing headquarters have studied radio in college, and
I look forward to talking with them. I’ve had far more practical radio experience than any of the other radio
mechanics here. I feel complimented that the Wing team always asks that I be assigned to work with them
when they are here.
76
#47 -- Harry Wooding and George Ashley ( with his new Corporal ’s stripes), Scarlett
Point RAF Cam p, Castl etown, I.O.M. - 1942
77
#48 -- Back: Johnny Channer, Wally Nutall - Front: Jim Farrior, Be rnard Hope,
Dick Haslam , unknown. -- 1942
Sunday, Apr. 5, 1942 - I received a letter from the U.S. Embassy in London concerning my passport,
and they advised me to stop by the consul in Liverpool when next I’m there. It seems that somewhere along
the way I should have completed an application for an American citizen residing in England. Somehow, the
word residing seems not to fit. This is the first that I’ve heard of that application. More government red tape. I
have recently taken some group photos of the men at Scarlett Camp, and some of them are pretty good.
Monday, Apr. 6, 1942 - Johnny Channer (RAF), who is the principal clerk in the C.O.’s office, told
me that my name had been sent in for a raise to Chargehand. However, it was erroneously first sent to Wing
Records, instead of directly to CTC headquarters in Bournemouth. That has caused a delay. More errors will
undoubtedly be made before I receive the promotion, if ever. At this time, I haven't even been officially notified of my promotion to Senior Craftsman. I think this confusion may be planned just to slow down the system.
Tuesday, Apr. 7, 1942 - We now have four flight sergeants here from 77 Wing. They are here to do
the quarterly overhaul of all of the equipment. Everything is working fine at this time, but we will be lucky if
that is the case when they leave. Actually, they are very competent men, but when they fool around with
78
complex, sensitive equipment that is working fine, it is very easy to introduce faults that can show up only
after they leave. The Flight Sergeants now here are Phil Casey, Crowe, Jeff Howes, and Ron Edwards.
#49 -- Back (stand ing): George Fulton, George Ashley;
Middle (seated): u nknown, Dick Haslam ;
Front: Harry Wooding, Roy Thom as, Jim Farrior -- shortly after April 28, 1942.
Wednesday, Apr. 8, 1942 - Today, four radio mechanics were posted. They were inexperienced men
that I hardly know, so I lost no friends. Neither they nor we know where they will be sent, but we understand
they are to be posted overseas. That leaves us very short of mechanics. We will probably have to go back on 3
shifts per day. I’m presently on day maintenance, and tomorrow is my day off. With the shortage of mechanics, I doubt that any regular maintenance will be done tomorrow, and I’ll have to do it on Friday. We do far
too much maintenance anyway. At home, there is an old saying, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”.
Thursday, Apr. 9, 1942 - This afternoon, Freddy Harvey (cpl. RAF) and I went to Douglas to the
cinema. On the way back, Mrs. Stevenson from Ballasalla was riding the same bus. She had just been to a
prisoners of war meeting in Douglas, where the mothers of prisoners met to pool their information concerning
the conditions under which the men are living. They also were sponsoring a drive to get money to send parcels to them. I gave 2s 6d, and realize now that I should have given more.
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#50 -- Back: Sid Prescott, unknown, Don Crocker, unknown, Bill Ha ym an - Front: Roy
Thom as, Len Lund -- 1942 (The gate i n t he bac kground is the entrance to t he cam p
from Arbory Road.)
Friday, Apr. 10, 1942 - In general, Radio here is very advanced. Some aspects of the radiolocation
equipment are examples. Also, television had become available in some areas before the war began. Although
our CH equipment uses older technology, it is very well designed and constructed. The CHL and airborne
radiolocation equipment use much new technology that I don’t believe existed in the U.S. until lately. I understand that the MIT men and the U.S. Army Signal Corps officers, who attended the school at Cranwell,
and also the Signal Corps officers who are at the radiolocation stations are being used to take this knowledge
back to the U.S. I understand that MIT will establish a large laboratory for doing design and development
work in this new technology. It seems funny to see the painfully slow speed of the radio operator when he is
sending plots to Preston by W/T (for "wireless telegraphy"). Also, the British place the telegraph key near the
edge of the table, which causes the arm and elbow to hang out over the edge. That would be very tiring if one
had to do it for long periods of time. The British telegraph operators are much slower, and use straight telegraph keys (sometimes called hand keys) instead of semi-automatic "bugs". Bugs make dots automatically
and permit sustained sending at a much higher speed. Though slow, the speed used for sending plots is probably sufficient for the job. When I was the Chief Operator at WUGA and WUMA, and later an operator at
WVR, telegraphy was very fast and reliable. The operators were required to work as fast as they could for
shifts that often exceeded eight hours per day. In the U.S., W/T is called radio telegraphy (or CW for "contin-
80
uous wave"). When voice is used, instead of telegraphy, the British call it R/T (for "radio telephony"). In the
U.S., R/T is called "voice" or "phone". Although the RDF equipment is well designed, the T1087 R/T W/T
transmitter is a very poor piece of equipment. It must be rather old. Here it is used only for W/T, but the R/T
circuitry and associated hardware indicate poor, inefficient, outdated design.
#51 -- Back: -- Sid Prescott, Jim Farrior, Don Crocker, Bill Ha ym an - Front:
Roy Thom as, Len Lund -- 1942Saturday, Apr. 11, 1942 The weather seems to be slowly improving. Many people are afraid that the Germans may try an invasion as soon as the weather gets a little better. If they do, I don’t think they will succeed. In any case, it
doesn’t seem reasonable to me that the Isle of Man would be chosen as part of an initial attack. The dreaded
tower work is actually pleasant when the weather is good. The view of the country and the coast from the
tower is interesting and beautiful.
Sunday, Apr. 12, 1942 - If the weather is bad, or if there is not enough time to get out into the countryside, or to travel to other parts of the Island, there is not much to do. We often go to the Cosy Cinema,
which changes flicks twice a week. However, they mostly get old ones that I have seen. Sometimes a group of
us, both men and women, will go together to the Vic, a pub on the way to the Cosy Cinema, where we have a
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beer or two and play darts. Some of the farmers come there, and I enjoy talking with them as I was raised in
the country. Usually, there is someone there who can bang out some songs on the piano.
#135 -- Rose Hodges and Nobby
Clark playing checkers in the
Comm on Room
There is a small library in the
common room. Nearly always, there are
some men or women hanging around, so I
often go there to talk with them. Some of
them play checkers or table tennis, but I
don’t care for either. There is a phonograph and a fair number of records. It is
especially enjoyable when someone is
playing the piano. I like the British people, and find talking with them to be interesting because they tell me about the part
of the country where they live.
#144 -- Kathleen and Arthur Vanwell, VernieVanwell’s brother, in front of Vanwell’s fish
shop on Arbory St. -- I took this photo on a visit in 1958. When Arthur returned after the war with
his bride, they began running the fish shop. During the war, Anne’s Supper Bar, also owned by
Vernie, was located above the fish shop and was reached by entering the door at the left and going
up the stairs. After the war Vernie closed the Supper Bar and went to America.
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The food in the mess hall is better than we had at Cranwell, but it is still recognizable as RAF fare.
However, much better food is available in town, especially at Anne’s Supper Bar, where I seem to rate special
treatment. Phyllis Kneale, the waitress, or Vernie Vanwell, the owner, will whisper to me that they have
something special so that I can order it before it is gone. If it is something real special that they can’t put on
the menu, they will just serve it to me without having taken my order. Since I don’t spend much money on
other things, I eat at Anne's Supper Bar several nights a week. Eating is my largest expenditure, and well
worth it. I have it pretty good here on the Isle of Man. The country is beautiful, and I like the people very
much. The work is interesting, and I have made lots of friends, both men and women, at camp and in the village. I eat quite well. My only complaint is with the weather, but I think I’m becoming more accustomed to it.
Monday, Apr. 13, 1942 - Thank goodness! The weather continues to improve. I hope this will be a
continuing trend, but that may be wishful thinking. "The Voice of Alabama" is still working fine, and it is
very much appreciated by those in the hut. There has been no further mention of it by the C.O. We heard on
the news today that there will be an increase in taxes. The taxes that the people pay are already very high. It
costs a lot to fight the war, and they have no alternative other than to pay what it takes. Fortunately, I don’t
have to pay taxes to the British government. I'll have to pay both Federal and State taxes upon my return, and
perhaps also a penalty for late payment. I’ve made no effort to pay my 1941 taxes.
Tuesday, Apr. 14, 1942 - So many of the radio mechanics have been posted that we had to go on a
different watch system. I am now off of the day duties, and the new shifts give me more time to read and
study. The Wing Maintenance Team have finished quarterly overhaul on the main CH station, and it is now
fully in operation. Sgt. Crowe and Mr. Lamont will be going back to wing. We have a new Technical Officer,
who seems to be a nice fellow. I hope he will give some technical lectures. I understand that the Technical
Officer is supposed to do that, but it has been done only a few times. They are good at delegating it to others.
Wednesday, Apr. 15, 1942 - Today, Roy Thomas (RCAF), Bernard Hope (RAF), Corp. Wooding
(RAF) and I went to see "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" at the Strand in Douglas. It was very good. I had seen it
once before in Atlanta. On the way back, Mr. Stevenson was on the bus. He said the Home Guards, in which
he is a Lieutenant, are expecting something in the way of an invasion soon, if it is ever going to happen. Tonight, we could hear depth charges going off out to sea. It went on for about an hour. There must have been a
sub lurking around out there. I hope they got it.
Thursday, Apr. 16, 1942 - With the coming of better weather, I expect to do more walking and hope
to take more pictures if I can get the film. Film is hard to get, and I believe it will be impossible to get it before long. Mr. Quine is out of film but has promised to put aside a couple of rolls for me when he receives
some more. He also believes that the time will come, perhaps soon, when it will be impossible to get it. I have
written to Mother asking her to send me a few rolls. It will be pure luck if they arrive.
Friday, Apr. 17, 1942 - I often wonder what has happened to the telegraph operators with whom I
used to work at WVR in Atlanta. Probably, most of them are now in the services and have commissions. I
don’t regret at all that I came over here as I have gained some good technical training, and have had many
interesting experiences that have broadened my view of the world. To my knowledge, none of us were initially given specific information about equivalent ranks, but the CTC Commandant told me in a letter that they
are as follows: The initial CTC rank is Craftsman, which is equivalent to the LAC (Leading Aircraftsman).
The second is Sr. Craftsman, which is equivalent of Corporal; the third is Chargehand, which is equivalent to
Sergeant, and the fourth rank is Foreman of Trades, which is equivalent to a Flight Sergeant. I have been informed that I have been promoted to Sr. Craftsman with a pay increase of 10 shillings per week, which I have
not yet received. I have also been told that I will soon be promoted to Chargehand, but I will believe it when
it happens. Note: Later we were informed that there is a fifth rank, Principal Foreman of Trades, which is
equivalent to a Warrant Officer. End note.
Saturday, Apr. 18, 1942 - This afternoon, Roy Thomas and I went to Douglas where we went
through the Manx Museum. We were lucky to find Margaret Stevenson there, and she took us on an excellent
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tour of the museum. Although it is a relatively small museum, there is much material pertaining to the history
and pre-history of the Island, all of which is very interesting. One thing that attracted my attention was the
skeleton of a large, pre-historic elk that stood higher than my head. There were some old paintings showing
Castle Rushen and other things as they looked long ago. Some showed the harbour in the days of the sailing
ships. There were also some very old tombstones, but they said that even more interesting ones are located
elsewhere on the Island. When the tour was over, Margaret took us to the Museum Director’s office to meet
her boss. He greeted us warmly, and when he learned that I was interested in old coins, he gave me some old
Manx coins. He said that they were too old to spend, and not of museum quality. He also showed us his stamp
collection. One page of it contained £100 worth of British 2d "blues" of an early date. He said he hoped that
we would come back, and I’m sure I will. After thanking and saying goodbye to Margaret, we went to see
"Ships with Wings" at the Regal, and then returned home. I guess I’m settling in, because I wouldn’t have
dreamed that I would ever refer to the camp as "home".
Sunday, Apr. 19, 1942 - Tonight we had a "shaky do" (dance) in the common room, and the personnel from Bride and Cregneish were invited. There was a four-piece band, and they played really well. One of
the band members also sang well. We all enjoyed it. Some of the WAAFs have had pity on me and have tried
to help me learn to dance. I thought I could dance fairly well at home, but it is done differently here. I had to
leave at 10:30 because my shift at the "A" site began at 11:00 o’clock.
Monday, Apr. 20, 1942 - We have a good technical officer. He is a pilot officer who has lived in India for some time. Flight Sgt. Edwards has been posted overseas. We were already short of personnel and this
makes it worse. I think that Cpl. Wooding and L.A.C. Ashley will both get a promotion now. It seems that the
RAF men get promoted quickly when the opportunity arises. The Canadians (RCAF) seem to be promoted
less rapidly, although in my opinion their performance is usually better. I understand that their pay is considerably higher than RAF pay.
Tuesday, Apr. 21, 1942 - Bernard Hope has been posted overseas. I really wonder if all of the people
who leave here thinking they are posted overseas actually go overseas. I can’t imagine in what country those
CH stations would be located. The CH installations are not mobile, and require a considerable amount of time
to build. In most cases, the shifting nature of a foreign front would seem to make it difficult to install, maintain, and use CH stations. The men who have been posted overseas from Scarlett have had no experience with
the CHL type of station, which is more portable and self-contained. Perhaps they send them back to school
before posting them overseas. Perhaps there is some order in this chaotic shifting of personnel, but it reminds
me of a game we played as children. The kids sat in a ring of chairs, and from time to time someone in authority would yell "Fruit basket turn over!” Everyone had to leave his seat and go to another one. The only
benefit was that everybody got to meet new people. I don’t think we are at all short of the number of radio
mechanics we need to keep the station operating reliably. However, we are now very short of those needed to
man the station in accordance with the prescribed staffing and maintenance plan.
Wednesday, Apr. 22, 1942 - I have a very nice WAAF girl friend named Vera Bradford. We have
been to the movie together several times, and I took her to Anne's Supper Bar one night. We often meet and
talk in the common room. When the weather is good, we enjoy walking together across the farm between the
"A" site and the "B" site. She speaks fluent French. This afternoon, Roy Thomas and I, and our WAAF girl
friends, Eileen Callard, and Vera Bradford went for a walk around Scarlett Point. It is very scenic there beside
the sea. It is exciting to watch the seas crashing against the rocky shore when the wind and tide are right. The
weather was good, and the country is very beautiful now. When we returned to Castletown, we had tea at
Duggan’s Café and then returned to camp. It was a very enjoyable and civilized afternoon.
Thursday, Apr. 23, 1942 - Every now and then, I pull the night shift in T Block-1 from 2300 to 0800
hrs. There is very little to do on that shift, so I usually put a blanket on the cot, and get some sleep. There is a
phone at each end of the building, and the WAAF P.B.X. operator sometimes entertains herself by alternately
ringing them to keep me running from one phone to the other. I dare not fail to answer it for fear it might be
an important call.
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Friday, Apr. 24, 1942 - Even though I have been here only since Jan. 27th, I’m third from oldest in
service of the radio mechanics at this station. Sgt. MacKensie and L.A.C. Ashley are the only ones who have
been here longer that I have. I hope that doesn’t mean that I may get posted. Recently the Jerries have increased their raids over England, but we have been shooting down a good number of their planes. Bath,
Plymouth, York, and Hull, are among those that have been hit hard. However, I don’t believe that they are
hitting us as hard as we are hitting France and Germany. Only a few enemy planes have entered our tracking
area since I’ve been here. Thanks to "The Voice of Alabama", we get news every day.
#141 --.Odd Fellows Hall. This
old photo was supplied in 2003 by a
Manx friend, Nelson Kinley, of Castletown, Isle of Man. He is a nephew of
the late Vernie Vanwell, who owned
Anne’s Supper Bar.
Saturday, Apr. 25, 1942 - There is a
large and somewhat impressive, but oddlooking, old building with columns in front
that is located on Arbory St. It is named Odd
Fellows Hall, which is a rather odd name. It
was constructed many years ago by an insurance organization, but it is now used for a variety of things, such as band practice, public
meetings, whist drives, etc. We had a dance
there tonight. However, I got the feeling that I
was getting in the way of the more experienced
dancers, so I stayed on the floor only a short
while. The music was very good, but I had to
go on duty at 2300 hrs. We have a new Sgt. in
the cookhouse and the food has been prepared better lately. I haven’t been spending much money and now
have £52 in the Post Office Savings.
Sunday, Apr. 26, 1942 - When Flight Sgt. Edwards left, we had to rearrange all of the watches and
duties. Things have been a little messed up, but we are getting them straightened out now. Johnny Channer,
the station clerk, volunteered that he would get through to Wing and see what has happened to the request that
was made by the C.O. for my promotion. It’s nice to have a good friend in the front office.
Monday, Apr. 27, 1942 - I’m going on leave soon, and I plan to fly to Liverpool from Ronaldsway
(Derbyhaven). It doesn’t cost much and it saves the lost time caused by the boat ride and longer train ride.
Tuesday, Apr. 28, 1942 - Two CTC men have arrived here after having completed their RDF course
at Cranwell. They are George Fulton (CTC #776), from Bend, Oregon, and Jack Boor (CTC #809), from Little Falls, Montana. The American Technical Officer who was here has returned from leave. That makes four
Americans who are at Scarlett now. George and Jack had been in contact prior to leaving home. They became
good friends, and went through Montreal, the boat trip, Bournemouth and Cranwell together. They arrived at
Cranwell the evening of Jan. 21, the same day I had left in the morning. When we moved out, they moved
into the same hut that I had occupied. When they finished at Cranwell, they requested that they be posted together, and the request was granted. They were very lucky to be posted here. George and Jack are in another
hut, and I’ve only met George briefly. He seems to be a good man. He is about 7 or 8 years older than I am. I
haven’t met Jack because he checked into the infirmary with a high fever upon arrival. He and George had
gone to Edinburgh on their short leave after finishing school at Cranwell, and he had become ill while on
85
leave. From Cranwell, and upon completion of their short leave, they had been sent to 77 Wing Headquarters
in Liverpool and didn’t know that they would be sent to the Isle of Man until they arrived at Wing. Both have
had previous practical radio experience. Jack has worked at a broadcast radio station for several years, and
George has run a radio and electronics repair shop for a number of years.
My good friend Cpl. Freddy Harvey sent home for a book named "Mathematics for the Millions",
which I’m now studying. It is very interesting, and does a good job of explaining some of the hardest parts in
an understandable way. I’m having much fun with it. Since I have been on shifts, I've had much more time to
study. I received a letter from Mother that said that my cousin John Phelps came safely through the Pearl
Harbor attack. That is good news. I refer to John as my first cousin, although he was an adopted child. He
lived in Montgomery, Ala., as a boy, and would come to Letohatchie and spend part of the summer with me.
He would sometimes come in the winter to hunt squirrels with me in "Big Swamp". I visited him a few times
in Montgomery, but as a young boy I couldn’t stand the city.
Wednesday, Apr. 29, 1942 - With the good weather, more flying has been taking place, which gives
us more to do. CTC Jack Boor was quite ill when he arrived, and was put in the sick bay. Dr. Stephens at first
thought he had pneumonia, but it seems now that he may have flu. I haven’t visited him for fear of catching it.
He is still quite ill, but I heard that he is getting better. It is practically impossible to get film now. The chemist has promised to save me a roll or two if he gets any, but he thinks he government has taken over the entire
supply. I hope that I will be able to find some when I go on leave.
Thursday, Apr. 30, 1942 - Next Sunday I will be taken to the dentist in Port St. Mary. The last time
and only other time that I went to a dentist was in 1937 when I was in a Civilian Conservation Corps camp
and all of the men were checked. I’ve never had a filling and hope I don’t have any cavities now. The RAF
will pay for any dental work I may need. I sent my other uniform off to get it cleaned. It cost 3s 1d. Today
Roy Thomas {RCAF} and I went to visit the Stevensons at Heron Dene in Ballasalla. Mary, Margaret, and
Mrs. Stevenson were there. Also there was Mrs. Stevenson’s mother, who is 90 years old. Mrs. Stevenson’s
mother has some sons who have been in Canada since the end of WW-I. The weather is very good now. I like
to swim, and when I go down to Scarlett Point, the water looks very inviting. I stuck my hand in it, and it is
like ice water. I tried to buy a bathing suit, but ration coupons are required and I don’t have any.
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#38 -- Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson with Jim Farrior in front of the Steve nson's
hom e, Heron Dene, Ballasalla, I.O.M.
May 1, 1942. Thursday, Apr. 30, 1942 - Next Sunday I will be taken to the dentist in Port St.
Mary. The last time and only other time that I went to a dentist was in 1937 when I was in a Civilian Conservation Corps camp and all of the men were checked. I’ve never had a filling and hope I don’t have any cavities now. The camp will pay for any dental work I may need. I sent my other uniform off to get it cleaned. It
cost 3s 1d. Today Roy Thomas {RCAF} and I went to visit the Stevensons at Heron Dene in Ballasalla.
Mary, Margaret, and Mrs. Stevenson were there. Also there
was Mrs. Stevenson’s mother,
who is 90 years old. Mrs. Stevenson’s mother has some sons who
have been in Canada since the
end of WW-I. The weather is
very good now. I like to swim,
and when I go down to Scarlett
Point, the water looks very inviting. I stuck my hand in it, and it
is like ice water. I tried to buy a
bathing suit, but ration coupons
are required and I don’t have any.
Left: #142 -- Two WAAFs
pose in the lorry in the Scarlett Point parking garage.
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Saturday, May 2, 1942 - What fabulous weather! Today, Roy Thomas, Eileen, Vera and I went
down to Scarlett Point and had a picnic on the rocks by the sea. It is very difficult to get food for picnics, but
the girls talked the cookhouse out of some things that were quite good. We had a lot of fun, and I took several
pictures even though my film is nearly gone.
#52 -- Eileen Callard, Roy Thom as, Vera Bradford, and Jim Fa rrior, Scarlett Point,
I.O.M. -- This photo was taken with the del ayed shutter -- May 2, 1942.
Sunday, May 3, 1942 - Tonight we had a party in the common room. Soldiers and airmen from some
of the other stations were invited. The American officer was there. He has been posted to Yatesbury for a
course of instruction and will soon leave here. There is a large CH operator’s school in Yatesbury, and a
number of our WAAF operators went to school there. I had been told that I would go to Port St. Mary to the
dentist, but this morning I was taken to the Internee Camp in Port Erin. I received dental treatment from a
German internee, a dentist who had been in England when the war started and couldn't return home. He has a
very fine dental office with equipment that looks brand new. He seemed proud of it and commented to me
that the dental stand beside the chair had water, electricity, and gas. One of my front teeth now has a small
filling in back of it. I hope the dentist was not just practicing with his new equipment, or doing his part for the
Fatherland.
Monday, May 4, 1942 - I received a picture of Teeny today. She had mailed it on Feb. 11th, but it
had been forwarded all over England before reaching me. It is a real pretty picture of her, and I must get a
frame for it.
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#53 -- Jim Farrior (lef t) and Freddy Nash examining sea anemone in a tidal pool at
Scarlett Point, I.O.M. -- 1942.
Tuesday, May 5, 1942 - At one of our parties at the Scarlett camp, one of the visiting mechanics from Cregneish had invited me to visit the Cregneish CHL station. He has already been through our CH station. This
afternoon the weather was pretty good, so I caught the bus to Port St. Mary and then walked up to the site. I
had been to this area before when Freddy Grice and I took a long hike and came up here to see the Meayll
Stone Circle, which was near the CHL station. CHL stands for "Chain Home Low-flying". The small facility
is located on top of a small mountain (identified as Mull Hill on my Ordnance Map), which overlooks the
Irish Sea. Unlike the Scarlett CH station, it uses very little land. The station is all contained in one small
building, and the aerial, which is rotated for scanning, is located on the top of the building. The mechanic told
me that, because of its appearance, the aerial is known as a bedsprings array. I spent an hour or two in the
small operating room observing the station in operation and having the technical details explained to me. It
uses a PPI (Plot Plan Indicator) display, and it is like looking at an actual map showing the positions of planes
and also the ships at sea. It has a good range and shows the Mountains of Mourne in Ireland, and also some
mountains in England, Scotland and Wales. The CHL station operates on a very short wavelength, which
makes possible the small size of the aerial array. The CHL system uses some new and highly secret components that make it possible to generate the short wavelength transmitter power and to amplify the return signals. It does not replace the CH system, but could be used in conjunction with it. I was told that the CHL system, or a very similar one, is very effective in directing our fighter aircraft to a position where they can intercept enemy aircraft. They said that the system could also be used in controlling aircraft in the vicinity of aerodromes. A similar system can be used at harbors and on ships. The mechanic told me that the system is reliable and that only a minimum amount of maintenance is required. Only a small staff is required.
89
#76 -- Taking the sun at Scarlett Point. When the tide is o ut, this large, flat rock is e xposed providing an excellent place to soak up the sun. Such days were few and far b etween, which m ade them even m ore enjoyable.
Wednesday, May 6, 1942 - Unexpectedly, the weather has turned off somewhat colder. It is not raining, which is a consolation. Jack Boor (CTC) has been in the sick bay since Apr. 28th and is reported to be
slowly recovering. I still haven’t been to see him for fear I’ll catch what he has. From my own experience,
I’m sure he is getting the best of care by Dr. Stephens and Paddy Graham. George Fulton, the other CTC
man, and I went to the dance at Oddfellow’s Hall. There was a very good service band there from
Ronaldsway (Derbyhaven). About the only recognition of my civilian status that I have noticed, is that I can
go out without carrying my gas mask. Also, from time to time, there is a requirement that the airmen wear
their steel helmets, and I have gone out without wearing mine and have not been stopped at the gate. Perhaps
being able to keep "The Voice of Alabama" in the hut is another example. Otherwise, I’ve seen no difference.
Thursday, May 7, 1942 - I have been studying a lot lately and have been able to cover more since I
have been on watches. Mostly, I’ve studied television, radio, algebra, and trigonometry, but I’ve also read
some of the interesting and exciting history of the Isle of Man.
According to the news, Germany has been bombing England more frequently lately, but we are
shooting down a larger percentage of their bombers. I haven’t heard any mention of it because of the secrecy,
but I believe that the increasing capability of our radiolocation systems is making it possible to engage the
German bombers more successfully. Also, the raids would be more frequent if it were not for the radiolocation system acting as a deterrent.
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Friday, May 8 1942 - Today I went to Douglas and bought a frame for Teeny’s picture. It looks real
nice. She is a real pretty girl, and I appreciate her sending me the picture. I also managed to buy two rolls of
film. It is dated to expire in Oct. 1940, but hope that it will still be good. It has been a long time since I have
seen any fresh film, and I wonder where the old film is coming from. The cold climate in Britain makes it
possible to store film without refrigeration for a much longer period than in the U.S.
Saturday, May 9, 1942 - Today we heard over the radio that the U.S. Navy had won a sea battle in
the Pacific. There hasn’t been much released about it yet, but it seems as though Japan lost a good many
ships. I believe our situation is now getting much better as we are better prepared to fight on wide and greatly
separated fronts.
Sunday, May 10, 1942 - Tonight Churchill made a speech. As usual, it was very good. He compared
our condition now with that of the past. It was very encouraging. He warned Hitler that if gas were used on
the Russian front, we would not hesitate to use it against Germany. He said that we are well prepared for gas
warfare, but will not use it unless attacked first. His speech was broadcast in the U.S. so I guess my family
heard it. They are using my almost new Hallicrafters all-wave radio for the home radio, so they can also listen
to the BBC short-wave broadcasts. Sgt. McKenzie, who is now in charge of preparing the watch lists, advised
me that I would soon go back on day shifts again. That is both good and bad.
Monday, May 11, 1942 - Today is cold and raining -- a good day for staying in. Unfortunately, my
radio "The Voice of Alabama" now has a burned out valve, and we have no radio now. I’m worried that I may
not be able to get a replacement valve. The next time I go to Douglas, I will try all of the radio shops. If I
can’t get one there, I will try Peel. If all else fails, I’ll try to redesign the set to use a valve type that is available.
Tuesday, May 12, 1942 - I’m putting what money I can save in Postal Savings. CTC members were
recently allowed to increase our home allotment by a small amount, but they have not yet begun taking that
out of my pay. Jack Boor is still in the sick bay. He is much better and will soon get leave before he reports
for work. Doc Stephens has said that Jack came close to dying.
Wednesday, May 13, 1942 - It has been a long time since I have received any mail from home. I go
on day watch on Monday, so I will not have as much time for study.
Thursday, May 14, 1942 - The weather was fine today, and George Fulton and I walked up the Silverburn River to Rushen Abbey. It was a beautiful walk, but it started out with an encounter with a furious
swan. When I was walking on the western side of the pond above the little dam at the mouth of the river, I
walked very close to a nesting swan. I had not seen the swan, and was very startled when it attacked me from
behind. She chased me up the path and pecked me in the back several times before she gave up the chase. No
harm was done, but it really gave me a scare. I now have much more respect for swans than previously. The
scenery was beautiful and the walk beside the stream was very enjoyable. It was a very peaceful place. The
Silverburn River is a very small stream that runs very cold and clear over a rocky bottom. A stream of that
size at home would barely qualify to be called a creek. There are no large watersheds on this small island. We
went to the small jam factory at Rushen Abbey and saw Mary Stevenson, who works there. There are some
beautiful gardens among the ruins of the old Abbey. Some peacocks are kept in pens, and a few are permitted
to roam around the grounds. The Abbey has some greenhouses in which grapevines are growing. I must pay
Mary a visit when the grapes get ripe. I bet it would cost a fortune to buy some of them. We walked to the
Stevenson’s home where we sat with Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson on the lawn for a while. Since we had to be at
work at 6 PM, we returned to camp early. It was a very pleasant day.
Friday, May 15, 1942 - We had an air raid alarm today. We plotted the raider, which approached our
coverage from the direction of Northern Ireland and left our coverage over Scotland. He passed within a few
miles north of here. Whatever his objective, he has little chance of getting back home. Castletown’s air raid
siren is mounted atop Castle Rushen. The police station is just across the street from the entrance to Castle
Rushen, and one of the policemen is assigned to a lookout position at the top of the castle. Someone who was
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at the top when the siren sounded told me that the policeman who was assigned to go there was a very large,
overweight man who had great difficult negotiating the narrow spiral stairway leading to the top. It took him
quite a while to get to the top, and when he got there he was so exhausted and breathless that he was unable to
talk on the telephone at his observation post.
Saturday, May 16, 1942 - I have read some of the interesting history of Castle Rushen, and like to
visit it when I have a chance. George Fulton and I went through it this afternoon. While we were there, the air
raid siren blew, so we went up to the top of the castle and joined the observers. However, no enemy airplanes
were sighted. Neither did we see the overweight policeman we heard about yesterday. Perhaps he has been
assigned another post. Tomorrow, I will be able to find out from the operators the course the raider aircraft
followed. A/C Stanley Shutt is getting a discharge from the RAF so that he can go back to his old job in the
coalmines. We will miss him. They would have to drag me kicking and screaming into the coalmines, but I
suppose this is what he wants to do. Surely, he will receive more pay. However, it is a tremendous waste of
his training. Yesterday, Cpl. Harry Wooding was "put on a charge" for refusing to work in the garden. Today,
he has a military policeman with him everywhere he goes, even as he works. It seems almost comical to me. I
guess they need him to keep on doing his job while they decide what to do with him. If I were going to protest
something, I think I would choose something like waxing the floor of the hut. I rather like working in the garden. Harry is one of our best men, and I hope they don’t try to make an example of him.
Sunday, May 17, 1942 - Harry Wooding had his hearing today, and got off with a reprimand. The
rumor was that they were going to do something more drastic. Apparently, the C.O. doesn’t know very much
about RAF rules. He nearly got in trouble at the hearing because Harry was well up on the rules, and was
making it warm for him. When initially confronted with the problem of Harry’s unruly behavior, the C.O. had
told the SP to "put Harry on a 295" (I think that’s the right number), which is a "leave of absence" form. Harry was quite happy with that, but the SP informed the C.O. of the error. Having had considerable experience
with military types, I’m surprised that the C.O. didn’t tell the SP to "do as I say". Anyway, I think it would be
a good idea to give Harry a short leave so he could quietly repent. I understand that Harry agreed that in the
future, he would work in the garden.
Monday, May 18, 1942 - Brrrr. It is windy and cold, the kind of day that is best spent inside. However, there is work to do. The local people pay little attention to the weather. Perhaps I will become more accustomed to it, but now, I get chilled to the bone in this kind of weather.
Tuesday, May 19, 1942 - George Fulton and Jack Boor came over on the same ship, and George told
me about their trip. He said that a section of the ship was used for 900 Italian “prisoners” who were aboard.
He said that there were both men and women and that they were not prisoners of war, but were detainees, and
he didn’t know why they were being taken to England. Some of the Italians were serving as cooks and stewards on the ship. One of the officers in charge discovered that one of them had a pistol. It was a good quality
pistol, so the officer bought it from him. Apparently they had not been searched, as discipline over them was
very lax. George and Jack were in a convoy of mostly slow cargo ships that followed a zigzag course. It took
them 16 days to make the voyage. He gave me an Italian banknote that he got from one of the prisoners. Note
(Oct. 9, 2000): I recently read a book about the internee camps in England, and especially on the Isle of Man,
during the war. It said that England had initially been overzealous in rounding up Italians, even those who had
been well settled for years. Many of these people were sent to distant places, even as far as Australia, to be
interned. After a period, they were screened to determine those not considered a threat, and many were returned to civilian life in England. That could explain why the Italians were on George’s ship. End note.
Wednesday, May 20, 1942 - Today, Mary (one of the WAAF clerks) told me that I am to report to
Wing Headquarters in Liverpool on Friday. From there, I’m to report to Bournemouth. I can’t imagine what it
is all about. If I had performed badly, I would think I was going to be sent back to the U.S. like the ones who
did not perform acceptably at Cranwell. I’m not at all concerned about that, but I am very curious. Perhaps I'll
never know. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they just ask a few questions and send me back. A good percent-
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age of the service personnel traveling on the trains are going somewhere for some unnecessary purpose like
postings that leave vacancies to be filled. No wonder that the trains are so crowded!
Thursday, May 21, 1942 - I spent all day packing my things and getting ready to leave. I have decided to wear my civilian clothes. I had to iron them as they have been carried in my locker since I was in
Canada. I expect civilian clothes will cause some trouble. They sometimes make people in civilian clothing
fill out forms and wait until last to get off the boat.
A Trip to CTC Headquarters in Bournemouth for an Interview
Castletown, I.O.M. and Liverpool, England, Friday, May 22, 1942 - I put on my civvy clothes for
the first time since leaving Canada. I really feel funny out of uniform. However, I do feel more like an individual. I left before breakfast and George Fulton walked to the train station with me. Riding the old Victorian
steam train is a lot of fun. I caught the boat at Douglas at 9:45. Joc Lamont, one of the 77 Wing mechanics,
was on the boat, and we enjoyed talking about RDF. We just did arrive in Fleetwood in time to catch the
train. The train arrived in Liverpool at 5:00 PM and I went to 77 Wing headquarters and reported in. They
said they had no idea why I was being sent to Bournemouth. I was given my papers to continue on to
Bournemouth tomorrow. I had left Castletown before breakfast, and didn't get anything to eat on the boat or
on the train. When I arrived back in town from 77 Wing, it was too late to get anything to eat at a restaurant,
so I have had nothing to eat all day. I got a room in a small hotel and went to bed. At least, Wing didn’t send
me to the dreaded "School for the Blind" to spend the night. I didn’t realize how badly Liverpool had been
bombed until this visit. Much of the downtown section has been badly hit, except for the Adelphi Hotel,
which seems to have survived with little damage. Perhaps some damage is quite recent.
Liverpool to Bournemouth, Hampshire, Saturday, May 23, 1942 - I caught the train at Lime St.
Station at 10 AM. The train arrived at Euston Station at 2:45 PM just in time to catch the tube to Waterloo
Station, where I boarded the 3:00 PM train that was ready to depart for Bournemouth. Those were lucky connections. The train was very crowded and I had to stand all the way from London to Bournemouth, where I
arrived at 6:00 PM. I went immediately to CTC headquarters where I was informed that it would be Wednesday at 10:00 before the interview would take place. It’s a pity that I didn't know that earlier, as I could have
enjoyed a few days in London. I am accommodated at Annerley Court Hotel. There are a number of men here
that I know. A few days ago, about 40 men were sent back to the states. I understand that nearly all of them
were going back at their request, claiming that they want to join the U.S. Forces. Some may have failed to
perform satisfactorily. None of the people here now think that they are candidates for being sent back.
#103 -- Jim Farrior at Annerley Court
Bournemouth, Hants., Sunday,
May 24, 1942 - William Douglas, a very
good man who came across on the Andes
with me, and also went to school at Cranwell with me, is also here for an interview.
We went to the Odeon to see a flick.
While we were in the theatre, they flashed
a notice on the screen that an air raid
alarm had been sounded but the show
would go on. We had three air raid warnings today. After all, there is a war going
on, something that was easy to forget on
the Isle of Man. After the theatre, we had
supper at a restaurant. Strangely, I was
able to get some milk here, but ham and
eggs are strictly unavailable. I understand
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that I will probably be offered another posting, but after talking to some of the men here, I can’t see how I
could get a better posting than the one I have. Some of them describe a situation at their posting that is worse
in all respects than what I have experienced on the Isle of Man. I’m anxious to see what will happen.
Monday, May 25, 1942 - At 12:45 last night, the air raid alarm sounded and about 12:30 bombs began to fall. We all assembled in the hall on the ground floor, but decided we had rather see what was going
on. We went out and stood in the street. The bombs would shake the ground under our feet, and the antiaircraft guns made a lot of noise. This continued for about an hour and a half, and some of the bombs fell rather close. After everything had quieted down, we returned to bed. That was a lot of excitement! This morning I took a walk to look at the damage. A large bomb was dropped on the square, which resulted in some
blast damage to nearby buildings. I understand that there were a few casualties here and in the nearby town of
Poole. During my walk, I noticed that Bournemouth has suffered a great deal of damage lately.
Tuesday, May 26, 1942 - The weather here is not very good today. It is rather cold and is raining. I
spent most of the day talking with Douglas and Ames. Ames is CTC #1, and is a radio mechanic. He has been
here several days and only knows that he is here for an interview to take place tomorrow. There is much anxiety here among the men who have been called in. We have all wasted a lot of time for some reason that we
don't understand. The men with whom I have talked are all good men, perhaps the cream of the crop, and it is
very unlikely that there is any dissatisfaction with any of them. On the other hand, I have heard much dissatisfaction with the way the CTC is being managed. This afternoon, I went downtown and used my 10 clothing
coupons. I bought a shirt (7 coupons), a tie (1 coupon), and 2 pairs of socks (1 coupon each). I needed some
other things, but had no more coupons. I also bought two books, which I mailed to the Isle of Man. Tomorrow, I will know what is to happen. I hate this suspense.
Bournemouth, Hants., to London, England, Wednesday, May 27, 1942 - The interview was rather
short. Apparently I passed the technical part because at the end of the interview, I was offered a posting to a
research facility at Swanage, which is located on the coast about 15 miles SE of here. The RAF officer who
interviewed me seemed bored with his job. He couldn’t, or wouldn't, tell me the kind of work I would be doing, or anything about the living conditions I could expect. He couldn’t say whether or not my pending promotion would continue to go through the system. I was told that it was a take it or leave it offer, and that he
wanted an immediate answer. I told him that since I had no idea what was being offered, I didn't see how I
could accept. He replied that in that case I was free to return to my station. This is very satisfactory with me.
Floyd Harkcom from Bride, I.O.M., and Newberry had finished their interview, and had also made a decision
to stay at their post, so we picked up our belongings and caught the 1:30 train to London. When we arrived in
London, we checked in at the Eagle Club. Floyd and I could have left tonight, traveled all night, and arrived
back on the Isle of Man tomorrow evening, but since we have been given no report date, and since nobody
has acted like our time is valuable, we decided to leave Friday and catch the Saturday boat. This whole trip
has been a waste of time, and I had much rather have stayed on the job. What a way to run a war!
London, England, Thursday, May 28, 1942 - Today Floyd, Newberry and I went for a walk around
London. We went to St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Bridge, Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey,
Tower Bridge, and some other places of interest. At the American Eagle Club, we were able to get real hamburgers. We were also given some cigarettes. The Eagle Club has certainly been a morale booster for Americans in the British forces who come to London. It is like an oasis in the desert. There are a few Americans,
CTC and RAF, who are posted in London, and they enjoy these things on a regular basis. London is nice, but
for a number of reasons I much prefer my post on the Isle of Man, and am anxious to get back.
Friday, May 29, 1942 - Floyd and I took a very interesting trip through the Tower of London, the
British Museum, and Madam Tousauds Wax Museum. In the Tower of London, we saw where Ann Boleyn
was beheaded, and many other things of historical interest. The wax museum was unbelievable. The models
were so life-like that it was hard to tell that they were not real people. The train to Fleetwood left Euston Station at 10:55 PM. We are going to have an uncomfortable all-night ride.
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London, England, to Castletown, Saturday, May 30, 1942 – The train arrived at Fleetwood at 6:45
AM. We went to the Church Army Canteen and got a cup of tea and a cake. I met two RCAF Sgt. Pilots, one
of whom was an American. We all walked around Fleetwood until 12:30 when we were able to board the
boat. It was a very smooth crossing aboard the Rushen Castle, which arrived at Douglas at 4:45 PM. I caught
the train to Castletown. It seems like returning home! Tonight, back in my uniform, I went down to Anne’s
Supper Bar and got ham, an egg, and chips. The place was crowded, and Vernie, Phyllis, and some of the patrons greeted me like a long lost friend. Good food, no air raids, lots of friends, familiar surroundings, an interesting place with interesting work. I had made the right choice.
Scarlet Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Sunday, May 31, 1942 - Exhausted from my travels, I slept most of the morning. This afternoon, Sgt. McKenzie called me and told me that 77 Wing had asked
for me to join the Wing Maintenance Team, which travels around from station to station doing special
maintenance, installation, and repair work. I can’t believe it! My blissful frame of mind due to my return to
the Isle of Man has been abruptly ended. Perhaps I should have taken the Swanage posting. On the other
hand, I will get some very good experience on the Maintenance Team. At least I know what I will be doing
and already know the people with whom I will be working. Sgt. McKenzie said he thought it would be a week
or so before it went through. I've decided not to fight it. He also told me that I would soon get my promotion
to Chargehand, but I’ve been told that before. I'm suddenly pretty miserable.
#3 -- Our "Victory Garden" at Scarlett Camp in front of our hut. Clo sest to the cam era
is Fred Nash, and behind him is Fre d Harvey. We raised ca bbages. - June 3, 1942
Monday, June 1, 1942 - Corporal Ashley has gone on leave, and I am in charge of the transmitters.
Corporal Wooding is in charge of the receivers. I like being in charge because it gives me some authority to
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act when I think something needs to be done. My assignments indicate that my promotion to Sr. Craftsman is
in effect, but I’ve had no official notification and have not received the 10 shillings additional pay due me.
Promotions are made at CTC headquarters on recommendation of 77 Wing and approval by 60 Group, and 77
Wing sends my pay to me by mail. I hope that some day soon they will sort things out.
Tuesday, June 2, 1942 - I worked nearly all day on the receiver aerial feeder pumping system. We
often don’t have materials for repairs and must improvise. I had to go to a car repair shop in Castletown and
beg for an old inner tube from which I made a gasket to go on one of the air dryer units. Sgt. McKenzie is
going to Liverpool tomorrow and I will be in charge of the entire technical side of the station. I'm going to
enjoy this.
Wednesday, June 3, 1942 - There is a sandbag blast wall surrounding the T Hut, and some of the
sandbags have become rotten and have burst open causing the sand to run out. In short, the wall is falling
down. Everything was running fine at the station today, so in spite of my being in charge of the technical side
of the station the Technical Officer ordered all of the radio mechanics at "A" site, including myself, who were
not on watch in the blocks, to work at the job of filling sand bags and rebuilding the damaged blast walls. So
much for being in charge! The C.O. is not satisfied with the radio mechanic’s garden plot, so all of the airmen
not on watch had to spend the evening gardening. I was raised in the country, and if there is anything I know,
it's gardening. We are essentially wasting our time. The soil where our plot is located is very poor, and we
have no fertilizer or other material with which to improve it. At best, we will only get some stunted cabbages.
After filling sandbags all day and gardening all evening, I’m pretty tired. It makes the hard bed feel softer.
Thursday, June 4, 1942 - It is broad daylight at midnight now, and it sure seems funny to go to bed
when the sun is still shinning. It causes me to get less sleep than I need. I went to Douglas today and saw
"Birth of the Blues" at the Royalty. This evening, someone obtained a long rope, and we had fun jumping
rope in front of our hut.
Friday, June 5, 1942 - The weather has certainly been beautiful the past few days. We wear the same
heavy wool uniform the year round, and it is very warm on days like these. Tonight, Nobby Clark, Don
Crocker, Freddy Harvey, Harry Wooding, and I began digging in our Victory Garden at 7 PM and dug until
10 PM. Harry really worked hard, and nobody mentioned his having been disciplined for not gardening. We
have been preparing both the "A" site and the "B" site for tomorrow’s visit by the Commanding Officer of 77
Wing. The station could be falling apart technically, but we would have to stop the repairs to polish the floors
and to garden. That’s not a complaint. I’m just telling how it is.
Saturday, June 6, 1942 - Sgt. McKenzie knew when to leave. Since I’m in charge of the Technical
side of the station, I made a preliminary inspection and had the mechanics polish the floors and remove the
fingerprints from the equipment. From past experience, I know that fingerprints are the first things they would
see. The mechanics were instructed to make certain that the equipment logs were up to date. I stopped at the
Main T-Block long enough to fix the ventilating fan, which was making a noise. Although it had nothing to
do with the inspection, I also corrected a minor fault on the T1087 transmitter. When the Wing Commander,
our C.O, and our new T.O. came to the "A" site, I walked through the Main R-Block and the Main T-Block
with them. Apparently we passed the test as no negative comments were made. It was a silly exercise. The
new T.O., Lt. Howard, is a U.S. Signal Corps Officer. He is from North Carolina.
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#2 -- Airborne at Scarlett Camp in front of the old windmill tower, which is a
landmark in this part of town. - Jim Farrior, Fred Ha rvey, Harry Wooding, and
George Ashley - The entrance to air ra id shelter #3 is just behind Harry Woo ding's arm. - June 4, 1942
Sunday, June 7, 1942 - When I walk to work, I pass through Mr. Watterson’s farmyard. Having been
raised in the country, I’ve been very interested in his farm and have had some interesting conversations with
him. One of my duties when I was a boy was to milk the cow, so I feel at home in his milking shed. He keeps
a glass ready so he can sell me a glass of warm milk, for which he charges 2d. That's a reasonable price, and I
wish I could get milk every day. I want to visit the northern end of the Island soon. There is a large water
wheel at Laxey that I want to see.
Monday, June 8, 1942 - I spent the morning drawing a circuit diagram of the T1087 transmitter for
Lt. Howard, our new technical officer. I had recently made some modifications that had considerably improved the performance. Lt. Howard asked me if I could operate, and when I told him that I could copy about
45 w.p.m., he was surprised. He had understood that about 20 w.p.m. was top speed. Commercial telegraphers in the U.S. routinely move traffic at 35 w.p.m. Although an officer in the U.S. Army Signal Corps, he
knows absolutely nothing about radio-telegraphy.
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Tuesday, June 9, 1942 - George Ashley is back from London, where he has been on leave. He has
brought his wife with him, and they are living out now. What a great idea! They are staying in a home in "The
Crofts", which is a very nice street not far from our camp. Today, we had to change the base socket for the
cathode ray tube in the operator's console. It was a very difficult job because it is hard to access. When we
finished, Freddy Harvey’s calculator, which we call the "Fruit Machine", refused to work, and we were on
ACH (Auxiliary Chain Home) for about an additional hour and 45 minutes. The weather has turned quite
cold. The ACH does not have a coordinate calculator, but it has a better manual plotting table.
Wednesday, June 10, 1942 - Jack Boor told me that he and some other mechanics had spent the
morning using a rake to seed grass on the RX and TX blocks and had spent the afternoon watering it in. The
grass is to stop the erosion of the earth that covers the concrete structure. Typically, it would not have required watering, but we have had several very nice, dry days, including today. I’m surprised that the camouflage netting passes enough light for grass to grow. Tomorrow I will go to Ronaldsway to shoot some .303
rounds on the rifle range. A group of us will march over there. It will be the first time I’ve had to march since
I arrived on the Isle of Man. However, it will be a nice experience if the weather holds. I’ve really missed the
hunting that I used to do at home. I plan to get Saturday and Sunday off so I can go to Bride. Floyd Harkcom
said he would show me around and put me up for the night at the camp.
Thursday, June 11, 1942 - Today we had rifle drill at Ronaldsway. I scored 45, which was the top
score for the camp. Cpl. Wooding got 34, which was the next best. Jack Boor and George Fulton tied for third
place with 33. I was told that the winner must lead the march on the way back. Not knowing anything about
marching, I solved the problem by giving a single order, "Break step and walk back". The cookhouse food has
deteriorated a great deal lately. Not only do we have the same thing all the time, but also it is very poorly prepared. Everything seems to have been boiled, and boiled again. As bad as it is, it is probably considerably
better than served in most RAF cookhouses. It’s far better than Cranwell chow. We have been spoiled. Jack
and George eat breakfast rather often at Duggan’s Café, and I’ve done it several times. Many of the camp
members eat some of their evening meals at Anne’s Supper Bar, which is run by Vernie Vanwell. Vernie
nearly always has some very decent food. Vernie has a very good business, and her tables are often filled and
some folks must wait to be seated.
June 12, 1942 - I didn’t go to Bride today as my cold is worse and I’m not feeling well. Instead, I
stayed around camp. I really miss the "The Voice of Alabama". Perhaps I will be lucky and will soon find a
replacement valve. We often remove weak valves from the equipment before they completely fail, and there
are a lot of them in our junk box at the site. However, none are a direct replacement and I’m unable to redesign my radio using available parts so that I could use one. I received two letters from Mother today. One
contained a clipping about John Phelps. His unit received a commendation for bravery in action at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. The other contained a picture of my brother, Joe, and a clipping about my Uncle Hundley being promoted to the rank of Major. Nothing has come through about my going to wing. That suits me
fine as I’m in no hurry for that to happen.
Saturday, June 13, 1942 - Last night we had some excitement in camp. One of the ground gunners
went crazy. He ran around camp crying "I’m Mad!" at the top of his voice, and calling the C.O. every bad
thing that came to his mind. Things got very serious when he began looking for a machine gun and yelling
that he would shoot up the camp. One of the other gunners put an end to his rampage by hitting him in the
mouth with a telephone handset, which broke both the gunner’s mouth and the handset. They took him away
to the hospital. I’m glad he wasn’t on duty at his machine gun when he had his fit. I hope we never see him
again. I hung around camp all day. I received a letter from Eli Robinson, a high school friend from Hayneville, and Louis Davis (CTC), and answered both of them.
Sunday, June 14, 1942 - I had the day off and as the weather was rainy and cold, I stayed in camp
and did very little. Later in the evening, I went to the Cosy Cinema. There was a dance and refreshments in
the common room, and I stayed there until after midnight. Anne’s Supper Bar is now serving good, but small,
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green salads, which is something I haven’t had since I’ve been in Britain. From time to time Vernie also has
milk. The cows must be giving more milk this time of the year.
Monday, June 15, 19421 - The weather was good this morning, so I walked through the farm to the
"A" site this morning. Mr. Watterson picked up the glass when he saw me coming and began squirting milk
directly from the cow into the glass. Talk about fresh! It was warm and foamy and well worth the 2d he
charges. There was little to be done today, so I spent a good part of the morning studying the equipment diagrams. I’m in charge of the transmitters this week, and will be in charge of the receivers next week. Our
Technical Officer, Lt. Howard, went to school at Georgia Tech, and he knows Atlanta as well as I do. I had a
long, informal talk with him today. He is a nice fellow. His assignment here is mostly just for him to get some
experience in the field. Although he is the boss, and could do about anything he chooses, he asked me if I
would mind if he followed me around some day while I did the routine maintenance. I told him that it would
be a pleasure. I still can't get used to having to go to bed when it is daylight outside.
Tuesday, June 16, 1942 - Sgt. McKenzie (Mac) and I have been making an overhaul on the T1087
transmitter. I have already made some modifications, and had previously recommended the ones we made
today. We made changes in the keying circuit to improve the keying characteristics, and other changes to improve the impedance matching to the concentric feeder that runs to the vertical aerial. That causes more power to be radiated. I’ve been very impressed with how well the Manx farmers cultivate their fields. On the way
to work, not far from camp, there is a potato and turnip field, and the farmer can often be seen working the
field. There are no weeds in the field, and few weeds around the edges. Practically the only weeds I have seen
on the way to work are in an area about halfway to the "A" site where there is a small area that has some
weeds in it. I didn’t know what they were until I walked through them and learned the hard way that they are
nettles. That’s a lesson I will not soon forget! We had another day of very good weather today.
Wednesday, June 17, 1942 - I got another letter from Eli Robinson. He wrote to tell me that Bill
Colvard and Walter Bozeman are at the same place in Australia. Eli is still going to school at Auburn. I wonder what has happened to George McCurdy? A letter from home says that Jimmy Pane is still working at the
same job with the power company. He must have some kind of health problem to have escaped the draft. The
same letter said that my sister, Anne, is in love with a soldier at Maxwell Field. I hope she doesn’t get married
to a soldier who will leave the country soon and perhaps never return.
Thursday, June 18, 1942 - Harold Wright called me from Bride today and asked me for the dope on
T.R.E. (Telecommunications Research Establishment). That is the group that I could have worked with at
Swanage. I told him what I knew, which was very little, and in exchange he passed along some information
that he had. Harold was at Cranwell when I was there, but he was in another group and I didn’t know him
then. He and I, and several others, were in the news release photo that was taken there showing American
radio amateurs at the school. I still haven’t heard anything about my going to Wing. They are often quick to
tell their plans, but are very slow in following through. I’m really not so keen on it, and had just as soon stay
here. I hope that the promotion to Chargehand, which they told me I would get even before they told me
about the Wing posting, does not depend on my going to Wing. We are normally short of radio mechanics,
but we have lately received some new ones. We now have a few more than we need, which means that some
postings are due. It seems like nearly all of the overseas postings have been Canadians, Australians, or New
Zealanders. Few RAF postings have been overseas postings. Perhaps that’s just the way the dice rolled, but I
wonder.
Friday, June 19, 1942 - I received my first package from my mother. It contains the items I had
asked her to send -- 6 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of army khaki slacks, a khaki army shirt, and 2 under shorts.
They are surely needed. The army slacks and shirts will be good when going on hikes in warm weather when
the RAF wool uniform is far too hot. The slacks will have to be taken to the tailor to have the length adjusted,
but that’s no problem.
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Saturday, June 20, 1942 - My good friend and math teacher, Freddy Harvey (cpl. RAF) is being
posted to Wing on Sunday. He is supposed to get promoted to Sergeant. I really hate to see him leave, but I
guess I will see him there soon. We have very few replacement parts. An important motor driven switch in
the receiver aerial system has failed, and we have no replacement. As a result, we have made a makeshift repair that is certain not to last long. When we will get a replacement is anybody's guess, and there is a good
chance that it will not fit. Harry Wooding (cpl., RAF) has returned from leave. Sgt. McKenzie will probably
put him back in the job of being in charge of transmitters. That could possibly get me back on shifts from
time to time, and I would have more time to do fun things like exploring the Isle of Man. Things are not going
well in Africa. It appears that Tobruk will fall.
Sunday, June 21, 1942 - Today was my day off, and I slept late. This afternoon, George Fulton and I
went for another walk up the Silverburn River. It is one of my favorite walks. The country this time of the
year is very beautiful. The fields are bright green, and many wild flowers are in bloom. The sky is much
clearer and the weather for the past few days has been warmer. Today is the longest day of the year, and at a
little over 54 degrees N. latitude, it seems that the sun hardly gets below the horizon before it comes back up.
I always cast a long shadow here. It would have been a perfect day if we could have eaten out tonight. However, it is Sunday, and all of the cafes are closed.
Monday, June 22, 1942 - We all miss Freddy Harvey. Another corporal has come from wing to take
over the job of maintaining the "Fruit Machine" (coordinate calculator). A few of us took Freddy to the
George Hotel Pub for a going away party. He ordered a "shandy", which was half beer and half a grapefruit
flavored mixer. I had never heard the word "shandy" before. We don’t often go to the George, which is across
the square from Castle Rushen, because the prices are higher there. It’s a higher-class place than the other
pubs in town.
Tuesday, June 23, 1942 - The personnel in the cookhouse now are mostly inexperienced newcomers,
and the food reflects their lack of skill. Vernie is really making out. Her Supper Bar is crowded, and many are
from the Scarlett camp. The members of the Wing Maintenance Group eat there often when they are in town.
There are a number of local people who also frequent the Supper Bar. For many of the people at Scarlett, eating out is a luxury that they can’t often afford. However, many of them are probably used to food like that
which is served in camp and find little wrong with it.
Wednesday, June 24, 1942 - Today I had a surprise interview by a Squadron Leader from 77 Wing
Headquarters in Liverpool. At the end of the interview, he told me that I could expect to be posted to Wing
before long. I guess I have been properly blessed. I’m getting tired of being told that, and wish they would
either send me, or stop telling me I will be sent. Going to Wing will mean a lot of travelling, which is not so
good in wartime. On the other hand, I would get some good experience, so I will let things take their course.
Thursday, June 25, 1942 - Tonight Nobby, Dick, Pat, Terry, and I went to see "The Ball of Fire" in
Douglas. It was very good. I got a letter from Mother today dated May 31, which was the fastest delivery I’ve
had. Last night, the RAF sent 1,500 airplanes over Bremen. I guess they must have made a mess of it. The
Germans deserve all of it and more besides. I wish we could get some good news from North Africa.
Friday, June 26, 1942 - Mr. Ferrer, a civilian technician from Wing, is here to work on the aerial
system. I have been assigned to work with him. He is a friendly fellow, but a bit lazy. He hasn’t done anything beneficial, and has left some leaks in the pressurized feeder pressure system that we will have to fix.
Tomorrow I go back on watches, which I will like very much. The weather is very nice now. Jack, George,
and I will be on the same watch.
Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Saturday, June 27, 1942 - I like being on watches
when the Wing Maintenance Team is not here. There are two radio mechanics on watch, and one of us often
goes over to the receiver block to get some actual operating experience. I’m learning how it is done. The people at the other end of the phone in Preston laugh at my southern American accent. Some of them sound pretty funny to me.
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Sunday, June 28, 1942 - At 1800 hrs the technical site had a power failure test. None of the mechanics or operators had been informed about it. The power from the outside power mains was cut off. Throughout
the technical site, all of the equipment went dead. The technician in the Diesel Switch Block, who had not had
a prior warning, had to go through his routine of starting the large diesel generator and applying the emergency power to the technical site. When the emergency power came on, the mechanics had to go through the procedures for restarting the various pieces of equipment and getting the CH station back into operation. This
was the first time an unannounced power failure test had been performed, and it went off quite well. We had a
nice "shaky do" in the common room tonight and Peter was down from Bride. We also had some RAF men
and WAAFs from Cregneish. Flight Sgt. Jeff Howes was also here from Wing. He is a very good technical
man and a good fellow. He told me that he had heard about my going to Wing.
Monday, June 29, 1942 - I got a haircut today at the barber on Arbory. The barber put some oil on
my hair that smells just like fish oil. I have tried several times to wash it out, but it doesn’t do much good. I’m
ashamed to get around anybody. George Fulton and I had a talk today with the Technical Officer, Lt. Howard,
and told him that although we like it here, and like our work, but we are not satisfied with our status. I told
him that since my arrival, I have been assigned the same work and responsibilities that are assigned to the
corporals and sergeants. However, corporals and sergeants are recognized as such, but I have no apparent
rank. I was promoted to Senior Craftsman, the equivalent of corporal, some time back, and I’m receiving the
extra 10 shillings a week, but I have not been officially notified of my promotion and am not even sure that
the C.O. has been told. My long promised promotion to Chargehand, the equivalent of Sergeant, has not come
through. I didn’t ask for the promotion, but have been voluntarily told a number of times that I would soon
get it. Also, I haven’t asked to be posted to the Wing Maintenance Team, but for many weeks people from
wing have told me that it would soon happen. In our talk with the Technical Officer, Lt. Howard, we told him
that the three of us are given technical duties and responsibilities that recognize our experience and technical
knowledge. However, our status appears to be equivalent to that of the lowest ranking radio mechanic. Lt.
Howard said that he understood our concerns and would do what he could. Perhaps I should have kept my
mouth shut because, in spite of the things mentioned, I’m quite happy here. Actually, I’ve sometimes directed
the work of RAF corporals and sergeants when working with the Wing Team, and I never saw any problem. I
think it is probably the lack of a title that is most bothersome. With my hair smelling like fish oil, I guess Lt.
Howard was glad when I left.
Tuesday, June 30, 1942 - We had rifle practice again at Ronaldsway today. One of the ground gunners beat me this time, but I took second place. We were allowed to shoot about 60 rounds each. There
doesn’t seem to be the shortage of ammunition here that was complained about when we were at Cranwell.
The ammunition we shot seemed to be very old stuff, and I suppose they are expending it because they now
have fresh stock. Some WAAFs came with us and shot a few rounds. To me, that doesn’t seem like something that women should do. I learned to shoot during the depression, when a rabbit, squirrel, or a duck meant
meat in the pot. Nobody could afford to waste ammunition, so making every shot count was important. When
I shot squirrels, I nearly always shot them in the head so as not to damage the meat. For the first time at camp,
we had Manx Kippers for breakfast. It was very good, but the smell reminded me of the stuff the barber put
on my hair yesterday. Even though I have washed my hair several more times, I can still smell it. It is awful!
It’s a wonder I don’t have a bunch of Manx cats following me around.
Wednesday, July 1, 1942 -My Canadian friend, Fred Nash, came in from the barber this afternoon
smelling like fish, and has been washing his hair all evening. He is both furious and sick over it. Personally, I
could wring that barber’s neck! I’ve been studying the poor documentation we have on the T1087 to prepare
for a lecture that I will give on Saturday. The T1087 is an old piece of equipment, and we didn’t spend any
time on it at school. For that reason, the radio mechanics that come here have no knowledge of it. Jack Boor
says that he spent the day herding sheep. The transmitting aerial was lowered today to check out everything,
and his job was to keep the sheep from getting tangled in the aerial and feeders that were lying on the ground.
They didn’t teach sheep herding at Cranwell.
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Thursday, July 2, 1942 - Joc Lamont, Mr. Wills, and Mr. Ferrer from Wing are here now for what
we call the "quarterly sabotage". They are pretty good men, and they serve a purpose when there is a modification to be installed, or something needs to be done which requires some special tools or equipment which
we don’t have. Right now, everything is performing perfectly, but I suppose they must justify their trip by
tearing into the equipment in the name of preventive maintenance. As usual, we will have to put some things
back in shape after they leave. I get the feeling that the entire concept of maintenance and staffing was generated by officers who have never had much to do with hardware. There is a tremendous waste of trained manpower, and in my opinion the maintenance concept actually reduces the reliability. At WVR where I worked,
we had a building full of HF communications receivers and another building full of HF transmitters, plus
many different HF aerial systems. There was much more equipment to be maintained and high reliability was
achieved with far fewer people than we have here at Scarlett.
Friday, July 3, 1942 - Tomorrow is the fourth of July, perhaps the most celebrated day in America. It
will seem funny to celebrate it surrounded by Englishmen. Most British people have a sense of their own history and culture, but don’t seem to know much about the American War of Independence (Revolutionary
War), or the American Civil War. Although Americans were called Yankees during the Revolutionary War,
the name was used during the Civil War to identify a Union soldier or person. The Southerners (Rebels) always called them DamnYankees, and treated it as one word. Even today, one will hear the name DamnYankee used by Southerners to refer to people in the northeastern states. Some people here, wanting to say something nice, have referred to me as "Yank". There is a man who often plays the piano at the Vic Pub, and if he
is at the piano when I enter, he will play "Yankee Doodle", which is actually a Revolutionary War song. I act
as though I appreciate it, but most Southerners had rather be called anything in the world other than Yankee.
Some of the things imposed on me here by the British culture have seemed strange, but none of it has really
bothered me. Unlike the Northern U.S. culture, the Southern culture has its roots primarily in British culture.
More recent immigrants from the European continent have affected the Northern culture much more.
We have many Canadians here, and I can’t detect much difference between them and Americans. I’m
sure the French Canadians have a much different culture, but there are none of them here. I heard one of the
Canadians say that he wishes they had an Independence Day to celebrate. My mother has given me a subscription to the Montgomery Advertiser, the daily newspaper published in Montgomery, Alabama. The first
copy arrived several days ago, and I got some more copies today. They will let me know more about how
things are going at home. Also, they will make interesting reading for the men here, so I shall put them out on
the table when I’m through reading them. Jack got caught in a hard rain today when going to the Main TBlock and spent his shift huddled in a blanket in front of one small electric heater while his soaked clothing
dried out before another.
American Independence Day!
Castletown, I.O.M., July 4, 1942 - The comments made by George, Jack, and me about American Independence did not go unnoticed by the RAF men here, but there were no signs of hard feelings. Instead, some of
our RAF, RCAF, and WAAF friends surprised us by forming a group and taking the three of us to the "Vic"
to help us celebrate American Independence Day. Perhaps the Brits were glad to get rid of us. After a couple
of beers, we all went to a dance at Odd Fellows Hall in Castletown. We really had a lot of fun expressing our
views about American independence. Since "The Voice of Alabama" is still not working, I don’t know what
was said on the BBC about the American Independence Day.
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By kind permission of Manx National Heritage
#126 -- Prim arily because of t he lower price, the Vic Pub was the favorite pub for wor king class folks and the m ilitary. Located not far from the Cosy Ci nem a, it was a conve nient place to visit going to or com ing from the flicks. They served only the Castletown
Brewery products. Not e: the “Vic” has been converted to a private hom e.
Sunday, July 5, 1942 - I took Terry Bedford to a cricket game that was played on the green in front
of the King William’s College building. She is a very nice girl and is one of the WAAF operators. I heard that
she is engaged to marry a RAF airman who is posted somewhere in England, but I didn’t ask her if it were
true. This is the first Cricket game that I have attended. It seems like a silly game. They stopped at intervals
for tea, and no one seemed to take a serious interest in the game. The sun was very warm, and we sat close to
a stone wall to get out of the cool breeze. When a good play was made, the spectators indicated their approval
in a reserved manner, and it didn’t seem to make any difference which side had made the play. I guess one
would have to say that Cricket is a highly civilized game, and is certainly unlike any game played in the United States. I took my camera and snapped a few pictures. After the game, Terry and I went to the flicks at the
Cosy Cinema, and had supper and the Supper Bar. Terry is great is fun to be with. If that RAF bloke gets Terry, he will get a real fine lady -- and quite pretty, too. It was a very enjoyable day.
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# 7 8 - - T h e cr i ck e t g am e at K i n g Wi l l i am ' s C o l l eg e .
#79 -- Cricket can be very exciting! Taking the sun at King William s College -- Terry
Bedford is at the right. A bad thing about being the one with the cam era is that I se ldom got in the pi cture.
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#77 -- A group of Scarlett people at King Wi lliam 's College to view a Cricket m atch.
Terry Bedford is on the right in the back line and Jack Boor is in the front line at the
extrem e right. Actually, I brought Terry to the gam e, and Jack took m y place when I
got in front to take the picture. Jack liked Terry, too, but I chased him away when I r eturned. Terry! Get your hand off of Jack!
Monday, July 6, 1942 - The conditions at the camp are not too good, and many of the people are
browned off. Most of the dissatisfaction is with the food. It is awful! I often eat the evening meal, and sometimes the noon meal, at Anne’s Supper Bar, so the food problem doesn’t hit me very hard. Some of the airmen and WAAFs often eat there as well. Things are not going well in Africa. If the Germans are not stopped,
they will be in Alexandria before many more days.
Tuesday, July 7, 1942 - The MB2 transmitters don’t give much trouble, but today we had a sudden
failure of the high-tension rectifier in the MB 2 at the Main T-Block. It didn’t take long to replace it and put
the transmitter back in operation. I removed the bell, generator, and light from Freddy Harvey’s bike and
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posted them to his home in London. He has made arrangements with someone else concerning his bike. It’s a
fine bike, and I should have asked Freddy if he would sell it. It sure would come in handy. Again, the office
told me without my having asked that I will be promoted to Chargehand soon. That line is getting monotonous.
Wednesday, July 8, 1942 - I received a cable from Mother saying that my sister, Anne, is now a
married lady. That is hard for me to imagine. She is three years younger than I am. I would send a telegram to
her, but Mother neglected to send me her married name and her address. I suppose I will get all of the information in a letter soon. Note: Anne married Donald D. Slesnick on July 7th, 1942, at the Methodist
Church in Letohatchie, Alabama. End note
Thursday, July 9, 1942 - Brrrr! What weather for July! The wind seems to be coming from the
North Pole. Jack Boor is moaning about his wristwatch. It has been for weeks in a Douglas shop.
Friday, July 10, 1942 - The new watch list came out today and I’m to be on day shifts. I asked Mac
(Sgt. McKenzie) to change it, and he said that he couldn’t change it because the T.O. had said that that is the
way he wants it. Perhaps the T.O. wants to follow me around some more while I’m doing daily maintenance.
The Technical Officer is in London, and will be back Sunday. I plan to ask him to change my shifts. However, It is not a big thing. The main reason is that I want more time to study. In addition, I had planned to visit
some interesting places here on the Island, and the summer, such as it is, is rapidly running out.
Saturday, July 11, 1942 - This morning, I took a walk through the park near the railway station. It is
very pretty this time of the year with great masses of poppies in bloom. This afternoon George and I went to
Ballasalla to see the Stevensons. We had a very nice tea and talked with Mr. Stevenson about the war. Mrs.
Stevenson went to Douglas, and Mr. Stevenson left for a camp-out with his home guard unit. That sounds like
fun! George and I talked with Margaret until about 7 PM and then returned to camp. Margaret is a very nice,
cultured and intellectual person, and seems to know everything about the Island.
Sunday, July 12, 1942 - I had a talk with Lt. Howard, and he changed me from day shift to "C"
watch, which suits me a lot better. I consider that a personal favor. I wrote a letter to Mother and asked her to
buy Anne a wedding present using some of the money that I have sent home. Today is "Orange Day", which
is celebrated by the Irish people. From what I’m told, they certainly do make a row. I understand that they
celebrate it more among the Irish workers in Liverpool and Glasgow than they do in Ireland. RAF Bride is
having a "shaky do" to celebrate the day. Some Scarlett folks are going, but I will be working. Note: In 1983
my wife, Peggy, and I were in downtown Glasgow on “Orange Day”. A long parade with an extremely loud
band and many people carrying large colorful banners came by. We were told that many of the marchers were
Irish people who worked at the docks. They looked very rough, and several who were leading the parade were
throwing heavy club-like batons high into the air, which would sometimes fall among the crowd lining the
street. The men would then push their way roughly into the crown to retrieve the baton, without any concern
that some of the people were probably being injured. It was very uncivilized. End note
Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Monday, July 13, 1942 - Today I received a letter
from Noel Cragin (CTC) at a CH station in Rhuddlan, Flintshire, in Wales. He said that the work at T.R.E.,
where I had been offered a posting, is not very good. At least, that’s what he was told by a CTC bloke who
accepted the assignment. I assume that he is talking about the Swanage location. Harold Wright (CTC), at
Bride, I.O.M., is considering a posting to T.R.E. I will tell him to get in touch with Noel and try to track down
some more reliable information.
Tuesday, July 14, 1942 - The weather is still cold and miserable, and I have the "blues". The Montgomery Advertisers that were received from home today has helped to entertain me. It is interesting to read
about what is happening at home, but by the time the papers arrive, it is history. Louis Davis got out of the
CTC and joined the U.S. Infantry as a private. He wrote me from Ireland saying that he hasn’t done anything
that uses his skills and sees little prospects for that to happen. He is a college educated technical man, but is a
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misfit where he is. Now that he is in the service at the lowest rank, he will have to work his way up slowly.
He is a rather timid individual, which will not help. He acted much too hurriedly, as he was certainly better
off in the CTC.
Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Wednesday, July 15, 1942 - My passport must be
renewed soon, and I want to get that done in London. I have been warned not to get it done in Liverpool because they make errors that create serious problems. The recent war news hasn’t been good from the Russian
and African fronts.
Thursday, July 16, 1942 - It is simply too cold to do anything that can’t be done indoors. I would
never have believed that I would ever have to wear a great coat in July. So far, it hasn’t benefited me much to
be on regular watches instead of day duty. I had hoped to spend my spare time exploring the Island and taking
pictures, but it is too unpleasant outside. At home in Alabama, July and August are the hottest months, and
I’m sure that everybody there is complaining about the extreme heat.
Friday, July 17, 1942 - I can’t believe it! Here we go again! As the British say, "Bags of panic!” Tonight at 10:30, Jack, George, and I received word that we were to leave for Bournemouth for an interview to
take place on Sunday. I can’t imagine what this is about. I spent most of the night packing my kit bag and
locker, as I can’t be sure that I will return here. They will be left here and shipped to me if required. Jack and
George have to work tonight. They surely won’t feel like making the trip tomorrow. The CTC is living up to
the name that somebody gave it -- "Churchill’s Traveling Circus".
A trip to Wing Headquarters in Liverpool for an interview
Castletown, I.O.M., to Liverpool, England, Saturday, July 18, 1942 - The lorry took us to Douglas, where we caught the boat. We were surprised to discover that CTC men Paul Hand, Harold Wright, and
Floyd Harkcom from Bride were also on the boat, but they said they had been told to report to Wing Headquarters in Liverpool. There were 37 Japs on the boat, and someone said that they were being exchanged. The
British soldiers were made to carry the Jap’s luggage. To make me do that, a gun would have to be held to my
head. Even then, I wouldn’t do it. It was a rough crossing, and many folks were seasick. Neither George,
Jack, nor I got seasick; however, Judy, the PBX operator at Scarlett, who was going home to visit her ill
mother, became very seasick. When we landed in Fleetwood the R.T.O. officer met us and gave Jack, George,
and me instructions to precede to Liverpool instead of Bournemouth. That was good news, as I wasn’t looking forward to another senseless trip to Bournemouth. We arrived in Liverpool about 7 PM and went to the
old School for the Blind, 4 P.T.C. Hardman St., where we were given a bed for the night. Always bad, this
time it was simply horrible. The place was almost full, and I was bunked in a room full of American soldiers.
Nobody seemed to be in charge of them. They had all been drinking, and they were extremely loud and unruly. Several of them deliberately tried to pick a fight with me, but I carefully avoided that. It would be terrible
to show up tomorrow all black and blue. It was very late before I could get to sleep.
Liverpool, England, Sunday, July 19 1942 - We got up early this morning and went to 77 Wing
Headquarters. In all, there were eleven CTC men there, which I believe is all of the CTC men in 77 Wing.
Present were Paul Hand, Hal Wright, and Floyd Harkcom from Bride, George, Jack and myself from Scarlett,
Cooke and Cragin from Rhuddlan, Flintshire (in Wales), and three others whom I don’t know. We were all
interviewed, one at a time, by three RAF officers, who asked a lot of technical and personal questions, including our views toward military service (as if we were not already in it). Following the interview, we were told
that we could return to our stations. I got no clue as to why we were being interviewed, and I didn’t ask for
fear I would be given a bad report. While I was there, I was told by one of the office clerks that I’m now a
Chargehand, which CTC headquarters told me is equivalent to a Sergeant in the RAF. I’m coming up in the
world. We all went together to a good show at the Trocodero, and later had a petty good meal at the
Queensway Café. We then returned to the dreaded "School for the Blind" to spend the night. I saw some fruit
in a market. The price was out of this world. Peaches were 5 shillings each (about $12.00 per dozen), and
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grapes were £1/10/- per pound (about $6.00 per pound)! Obviously, some British people have plenty of money to spend. Fresh fruit has to be priced to sell quickly.
Liverpool, England, to Castletown, I.O.M., Monday, July 20, 1942 - Thank goodness, the group
of unruly American soldiers had left, and we got a pretty good night’s sleep. We left Exchange Station at 8:40
AM. The train was extremely crowded, and a large percentage of them were civilian vacationers headed for
Blackpool. We rode most of the way standing up in a baggage car. We arrived in Fleetwood shortly before
the boat sailed, and went across the street and got a bite to eat. The boat crossing was very pleasant. As usual,
we paid a little extra and went into First Class, which was pretty much like a large pub with cushioned seats
and a bar where one could get a beer and sometimes limited snacks. Upon arriving in Douglas, Jack, George,
and I went to see a flick entitled "The Corsican Brothers". We ate in Douglas and returned to Castletown on
the last bus. Whenever I return to Castletown after one of these trips, I always have a feeling like I’m returning home. I’ve had some wonderful experiences here. Rather sadly, I’m expecting something, presently unknown to me, to happen as a result of that hurried interview. Also, there is the matter of the Wing Maintenance Team assignment about which I have been told so many times. They didn’t mention it to me at Wing
Headquarters, and I didn’t want to bring it up. Let sleeping dogs lie!
Tuesday, July 21, 1942 - They had not expected us back so quickly, so they will have to prepare another watch schedule. To keep us busy, the Technical Officer asked the three of us to help with sand bagging
at the T Hut. We spent the entire day pulling down and rebuilding sand bag blast walls. That was a lot of
shoveling and lifting, and I’m rather sore tonight. However, I enjoy physical work and needed the exercise. It
was nice to be back where we could get a good salad at Anne’s Supper Bar. Harry Wooding returned today
from an interview for working on some very hush-hush stuff. It seems that his trial and reprimand for refusing
to work in the camp garden didn’t hurt him much. Come to think of it, I think Harry only had to work in the
garden only once after his trial, and that was on June 5th when we worked until 10 PM.
Wednesday, July 22, 1942 - I’m back on watch. L.A.C. Ian Wright and I are on "A" crew. The
weather is damp and cold and there is not much flying going on. Consequently, we have little to do. I received another letter from Louis Davis, who is in the U.S. Army in Ireland. He says that he has been on K.P.
almost ever since he got in. I believe that remaining in the CTC has been a good choice for me. The options
will probably be better in the future.
Thursday, July 23, 1942 - George and I have decided to take our leave and spend it touring the Isle
of Man. We have planned it out, and weather permitting, we would have a good time, as there are many interesting places we haven’t been. Since the Island is small, we would spend little of our time getting from place
to place.
Friday, July 24, 1942 - I didn’t get my pay today. It usually comes through on Friday, but it has been
delayed this time. It doesn’t really matter because I always keep some money available for this kind of problem. When I was going to work at 1 PM, I was told that a signal had come through posting me to Bournemouth. Here I go again! I’m practically a tourist. As usual, no time is allowed, and I must leave on the morning boat. I phoned Mac, and he let me off at 3 PM so that I can pack. It was quite a job getting everything
stuffed into one kit bag and an army locker. I will ship my locker to Bournemouth and will take my kit bag
with me The sudden leaving did not give me time to say goodbye to all of my friends in town or at camp. I
said goodbye to Jack and George and told them I would let them know what happened. I had supper at the
Supper Bar and said goodbye to Vernie Vanwell and Phyllis Kneale, and thanked them for everything they
had done for me. I told them that perhaps some miracle would bring me back. I can’t believe what is happening. They seem to be trying to wear me down. Perhaps it has something to do with the recent interview at
Liverpool. It seems more likely that CTC Headquarters wants to post me to Swanage, in spite of my having
declined the posting on my previous interview at Bournemouth. The people at Wing told me repeatedly that
they have a good opinion of me and want to put me in the Wing Maintenance Team. They recently promoted
me to Chargehand, so I don’t think that they instigated this posting. We shall see. I’m especially unhappy
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about this having happened at this time. George and I had made plans to take our leave and explore the Isle of
Man. What a pity!
A trip to Bournemouth for expected posting
Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., to London, England, Saturday, July 25, 1942 - I
took the train to Douglas and boarded the boat. When I saw the Isle of Man fade away in the distance, it was
sad to realize that I may never see it again. I’m very sorry to be leaving. I very much like the Island, the people, their culture, my work, and my rather comfortable life style here. I can’t imagine my being posted to a
place that I would like as much. I rode the train all day, changing at Crewe and arriving at Euston Station,
London, at 9:30 PM. I caught the tube to Leicester Square and went to the Eagle Club, but they were closed. I
next caught the tube to Knightsbridge and walked to the Eagle Club Dorm, but they were full. I was pretty
tired by then, but I walked to Green Park and was able to get a room at the Washington Club, which is an
American service club.
London, England, to Bournemouth, Hants., Sunday, July 26, 1942 - I got up this morning and got
breakfast at the snack counter of the Washington Club. They had Coca Cola! I caught the tube at Green Park
and went to Waterloo, where I caught the train to Bournemouth, arriving here at 5 PM. Upon arrival, I went
out to Eglan Court and checked in. I had a nice chat with Wing Commander Parks. He was pleasant and
friendly enough, but didn’t disclose why I’m here. He told me to come back in the morning at 10 AM. I went
down town and ate some supper. In my rush yesterday morning, I left my toilet articles at Scarlett, so I will
have to buy some more if I can find any for sale. I saw a very large flight of bombers returning from Germany.
Bournemouth, Hants. to London, England, Monday, July 27, 1942 - I went to see Wing Commander Parks this morning, and he said that he had been unaware that I had been promoted to a Chargehand,
and that he could not post me to Bournemouth. The vacancy that they had was for someone at a lower level.
He did not tell me what he had planned to do with me. He gave me orders and transportation back to Scarlett
and said that my luggage would be shipped back to my post when it arrives in Bournemouth. I’m a little
dazed by what has happened. This trip makes no sense, but I’m happy to be going back to the Isle of Man. I
caught the 1:50 PM train to London, arriving there at 5 PM. Since I had a few hours to kill, I went to the Eagle Club and got something to eat. None of my friends were there, but I talked with some of the men who
were present. Many of the Americans in the RAF are joining the U.S. Army Air Force. Men who have been
flying British planes are being sent back to the U.S. for training. I caught the 10:50 PM train out of London.
There are always many trains at the station that are being boarded, and one can’t tell for sure which one to
take by asking a porter. You sometimes have to board the train and ask some passenger who seems to know.
Shortly after the train left London, an air raid alert sounded and the train’s speed slowed to a crawl.
London, England, to Castletown, I.O.M., Tuesday, July 28, 1942 - The air raid alert lasted until
the train reached Preston, and the train seemed to crawl along. At Preston I changed trains and caught the
train to Fleetwood, arriving there at 6 AM. I went to the Church Army rest room and tried to get some sleep
in a chair, but I was too tired to rest. The "Snaefell" sailed at 12:30 PM, and we had an enjoyable trip that
lasted only 3 hours and 15 minutes. I was out on deck, and watched as the Isle of Man came into view. As the
boat came alongside the pier, I felt that I had returned home. I could hardly believe that I was back on the Isle
of Man. When I left, I had thought that I would probably never see it again. I felt real happy to be back. At a
radio repair shop, I found a second hand replacement valve for the "The Voice of Alabama". The shop’s valve
checker showed that it is rather weak, but it should work and last for a while. I then walked to the train station
and caught that interesting old Victorian steam train to Castletown. When I entered the hut, everybody was as
surprised to see me as I am to be back. Although happy to be back, I’m rather disgusted about the unnecessary trip to Bournemouth. I’m very tired.
Scarlett Point RAF Camp, Castletown, I.O.M., Wednesday, July 29, 1942 - To get some much
needed rest, I got permission to go n duty at 6 PM. Nearly everything I have that is valuable to me is in my
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luggage, which is on its way to Bournemouth. If I’m lucky, I will get it back in about a week or ten days. The
“Voice of Alabama" had been left on the table in the hut, as I had had no way to take it with me when I left.
Fortunately, it is still there. I installed the replacement valve, and it works fine! Once again we have news and
entertainment in the hut. That’s the only beneficial thing that resulted from my ridiculous trip. George and
Jack are quite worried about what will develop as a result of the interviews we had at Liverpool. In my opinion, I have more to worry about. In addition to the Liverpool interview, there is the Wing Maintenance Team
question. I have mentioned to members of the Wing Maintenance Team that I’m not so keen on leaving the
Isle of Man and hope that this message finds it way to Wing management. However, if it happens, I'll make
the most of it. From our experience with the way things are done, we believe that if the CTC were discontinued, it would be done abruptly and without warning or explanation, making it necessary that the members
make quick decisions from few options. That is why some have already elected to accept present options. Being kept in the dark has been very harmful to moral. It is the military way of handling what is supposed to be
a civilian organization, and it simply doesn’t work.
Thursday, July 30, 1942 - I’m on "A:" crew with two good Canadian friends, Bruce Liberty and Ian
Wright. I’ve heard that stricter food rationing began on the Isle of Man last Monday, but it hasn’t yet affected
the Supper Bar. I’m confident that Vernie will find a way to find decent food. The weather is quite nice today.
Friday, July 31, 1942 - The good weather is holding. Everybody in camp has to do gardening. To set
an example, even the C.O. and T.O. were gardening. Being a country boy, I feel at home doing gardening
work. Perhaps we will be allowed to eat what we raise. My leave was not taken due to the trip to Bournemouth, so I’m doing some more planning. I need to take my leave before something else comes up and I
might even lose it for good. There will be plenty of time to think about it because I go on duty at 11 PM tonight. Without my foot-locker, I must make do with the few things, mostly clothing, that are in my kit bag,
which I had carried with me. I’m beginning to be very concerned about my foot-locker because it contains all
of the things that I value most. Jack Boor is 23 years old today. I was 22 on January 11, so we are close to the
same age. George Fulton is the oldest, and was 30 on June 15.
Saturday, Aug. 1, 1942 – There are a number of operators, mostly WAAFs, who have come here
from the Filter Room at Preston to get some operational experience. In exchange, we have sent an equal number of operators to Preston to learn something about what goes on in the Filter Room. I wish there were some
way that I could visit the Filter Room. The Filter Room is where all of the plots from certain RDF stations are
displayed and evaluated. It is a very busy place and many people work there. The weather is nice again today.
Mrs. Stevenson of Ballasalla invited me to a picnic tomorrow at 2 PM, but I will be working and will not be
able to go. What a pity! I really enjoy being with the Stevensons. They don’t know how close I came to being
gone for good.
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Sunday, Aug. 2, 1942 - It is raining again. The
newspapers from home are arriving with fair regularity,
but about a month after being mailed. I received a letter
from Mother that enclosed nice photo of her taken on June
4, 1942. Everything is going well there. She enclosed a list
of the local men who have gone into the services. It includes most of my friends. I understand that most of them
volunteered. The Scarlett airmen are having kit inspection.
Since I’ve been informed that I will not be inspected, I
have loaned out some of my things in my kit bag to those
who are short.
Monday, Aug. 3, 1942 - I called the railway station today to inquire about my luggage. It has not arrived.
I’m really worried about it as all of my valued possessions
are in it. Most of the “King’s stuff” is in my kit bag, which
I have. If it doesn’t come in a few more days, I’ll have to
ask them to begin a check on it. Note: When we were initially issued our clothing, gas mask, etc., we were informed that the items issued to us were the property of the
#121 --My Mother, June 4, 1942
King, and that we would be held fully accountable for
them. Hence my above reference to the “King's stuff". End note. Harold Wright called me today from Bride
to see if I had heard anything about the interview that all of us had in Liverpool. I’ve heard nothing, and neither has he. I told him about my trip to Bournemouth. Jack Boor is still moaning about his wristwatch, which
has been for weeks in a Douglas watch shop to have the crystal replaced.
Tuesday, Aug. 4, 1942 - In our hut, we have a pretty good debating society, except that everybody
tends to talk at once. There is some griping, but not nearly as much as at Cranwell. There is no shortage of
subjects or viewpoints. I rather enjoy it, but don’t often participate. The weather is still rather bad.
Wednesday, Aug. 5, 1942 - I walked down to the Castletown train station to see about my baggage,
and was told that it would probably be a fortnight or more before I could expect it. What could they possibly
be doing with my luggage to cause such a delay? It could have made the trip numerous times before now. In
my opinion, the longer it takes, the less chance there is that it will arrive safely. Wherever it is, it is at risk. At
the Castletown train station, there is a scale upon which one can step, put a penny in a slot, and one’s weight
will be indicated on a large round dial. The weight is given in stones, which must be converted to pounds before it means anything to me. One stone equals 14 pounds. What in the world is the advantage in using such a
unit of weight? My weight would be expressed as twelve stones two, which is 12 stones plus 2 pounds. Of
course, the pound is also not a good unit, as it is divided into 16 oz.
Getting used to the British weights, measures, and coinage is not so easy. I haven’t seen a pound coin.
Paper bills in the amount of one pound (20 shillings) and also 10 shillings are common. The coins in common
use are the half crown, florin, six pence, three pence, penny, halfpenny, and farthing. There are older coins
that are not likely to show up in pocket change, such as the crown, the guinea, and the groat. To make it
worse, there are slang words for some of the coins, and also some strange archaic pronunciations. The values
of the coins are as follows: one pound = 20 shillings, the half-crown = 2 shillings and 6 pence, the florin = 2
shillings, and the farthing = 1/4 penny. The extinct guinea coin was worth 21 shillings. Although the coin is
not presently in circulation, some high-class stores still price their goods in guineas instead of pounds. The
extinct groat equaled 4 pence. Monetary amounts are expressed in pounds/shillings/pence. A pound contains
20 shillings, and a shilling contains 12 pence. For instance, an amount of one pound, two shillings, and six
pence would typically be written £1/2/6. An amount of two shillings, six pence would be written simply 2/6,
or 2s.6p to make it clear that it represents money. In their ordinary daily activities, people accustomed to us-
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ing the pound/shilling/pence currency appear to have little trouble making, in their head, the calculations
needed to conduct business. Actually, it is not as hard as one would think, and I have gained a considerable
skill already. People surely can make a simple thing complicated. I sent a wire to Bournemouth to see if they
took action to reship my luggage back here. I doubt that they will be concerned about my problem.
Thursday, Aug. 6, 1942 - I went to Douglas with Ian Wright and Staff Miller, both of whom are Canadians. We saw "Shores of Tripoli", which was very good. Mrs. Stevenson was on the bus, and I bought
some tickets sold in benefit of the "Prisoners of War Fund". Her son is a P.O.W., and she often attends meetings in connection with the Fund. It is a very good cause.
Friday Aug. 7, 1942 - I have saved a little money and would like to send it home to help pay my
school expenses after the war. I went to the Post Office to find out something about getting money out of the
country, but it seems like it will be a very difficult thing to do. Perhaps CTC headquarters can advise me concerning how to go about it. Today’s weather was very strange. It was unusually warm, and an unusual foglike mist that the Manx call "Mona’s Veil" hangs over the Island. The locals say this it is the heaviest veil that
they have seen, and the farmers believe that it is a sign of bad luck. Although it doesn’t seem to be very wet,
visibility is extremely poor, and small clouds of the mist swirl around in the wind. "Moaning Minnie" on
Langness Point has been wailing continuously. It is very eerie! Note (Feb. 2000): Although I heard the name
"Mona’s Veil" being used, Mr. Alan Cleary, a Castletown resident who is very knowledgeable about Manx
history, says that a more accurate name is "Manannan’s Veil". Manannan Mac Lir was the first person to rule
the whole Island about 440 AD. He is reputed to have been the most famous pilot in Western Europe, could
forecast weather, and kept foreigners away by engulfing the Island in mist. End note.
Saturday, Aug. 8, 1942 - To add to the strange weather of yesterday, we had some of the hardest
rains today that we have had since I’ve been here. During a lull in the rain, I thought I would be able to make
it back to camp from the "A:" site. However, as I was walking through the farm, I got caught in one of the
hardest showers yet. Thankfully, it was not cold, but I got soaking wet. Since it is so wet in this part of the
world, one would think that the RAF would issue a raincoat, or at least some clothing stamps so we could buy
one. Fortunately, my other uniform was back from the cleaners, and I was able to change. It will be a while
before my thick wool uniform dries out. Cpl. Stan Collier (RAF) came back from leave today. He is a good
man, and a very good technician. During the fall of France, he got out of France four days after Dunkirk. It is
amazing that he made it.
Sunday, Aug. 9, 1942 - Whenever I mention the bad weather to local people they usually say that
this is the worse year ever, and that surely next month will be better. However, I’m still waiting. The Island is
very beautiful indeed when the weather permits one to get out and view it. The grass is very green and the
heather gives the mountains a bluish-gray appearance. There was an unusually good "shaky do" in the common room tonight. An orchestra from Douglas furnished the music, and folks came from Bride, Cregneish,
Jurby and Ronaldsway. Someone told me that there was a good reason to celebrate because the Scarlett Point
CH station was one year old today, but that must be an error. I came here in January, and it didn’t appear to
be that new. However, they never have needed a reason for having a party. The party was still going strong
when I left about midnight.
Monday, Aug. 10, 1942 - Most of the personnel here resent having to work in the garden. I think that
it is partly due to something that I heard, which may or not be true. It went like this: RAF stations must purchase their food supplies from the NAAFI, which I’m told is a commercial concern. For that reason, we are
not allowed to eat directly the food that we raise in our garden, but must first sell it to the NAAFI and then
buy it back. In the process, the NAAFI makes a profit. That seems too silly to be true, but it is the story that is
going around, and the men mutter about it as they garden.
Aug. 11, 1942 – One of the Station Police is named Joe Oliver, and he is a dyed-in-the-wool Scotsman with a
thunderous voice. When he comes through the hut early in the morning yelling "Wakie-Wakie", everybody is
instantly on their feet, even those who worked late and are not going on watch. Others sometimes say it in
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such a subdued voice that one must already be awake in order to hear it. Although I have been informed that
my promotion has gone through, my pay has not been increased. If the next payday doesn't include the increase, I will write to Wing and get it straightened out. I also will try to get my allotment increased, as I may
not be able to take the English money out of the country with me when I leave. If I attend college after the
war, I'll need all of the money I can get.
Wednesday, Aug. 12, 1942 - I got a parcel from home today containing two pairs of socks, two army
shirts, and a tie. I sure was glad to get them as I am very short of clothing, especially since my luggage has
not arrived. This parcel only took a month, which is less than most of my letters take. The Canadians are all
taking what they call "trade tests". I understand that this is a farce, and the ratings will be awarded as the officers in charge please, regardless of the test grades.
Thursday, Aug. 13, 1942 - Today, we had to polish the floors, wash the windows, etc., as some of
the big shots from Wing are coming tomorrow. The high level people only observe the appearance of the station. It could be in terrible shape technically, but as long as it is polished up, they go away happy. I’ve learned
that this spit and polish is a fact of life here, and I’m not concerned about it any more.
Friday, Aug. 14, 1942 - The inspection by the Wing Commander has been put off until tomorrow.
Lt. Howard, our Technical Officer, who is an American, talked with me today and said that he believes he can
get me a promotion. That confuses me as I just had a promotion to Chargehand. I thanked him, but I’m not
holding my breath. Because of the continuous turnover of technical personnel, I’ve been here longer than all
but a couple of others. I WANT MY FOOT-LOCKER!! It certainly hasn’t been traveling all of this time. It
could have covered all of Britain several times by now. Where could it be? I worry that I may never get it.
Saturday, Aug. 15, 1942 – The Air Commodore, the C.O., and the T.O. came to the mess hall for
breakfast this morning. Everything had been prepared for his visit. The mess hall was scrubbed and the floors
polished. We had been told to be on time, and to look sharp. Although the breakfast was the usual RAF fare,
it was well prepared and looked more appetizing. Everybody was on their best behavior. The kitchen personnel even wore clean aprons. After a few meaningless words of thanks and encouragement from our leaders,
we quietly ate and left. The inspection didn’t amount to anything. This afternoon Lt. Howard told me that he
had learned today that he had been promoted to 1st. Lt. I congratulated him on the promotion, but wonder
what he did to deserve it. He came here directly from the school, and his main contribution was to order us to
rebuild the sandbag blast walls around the T Hut. Even so, he has been much better than his predecessors. I
like him, and he has always been very considerate of me. The weather today has been miserable. "Moaning
Minnie" has been sounding off most of the day and is doing it tonight.
Sunday, Aug. 16, 1942 - I still haven’t received my foot-locker. All of my photos, books, and personal papers, are in it, as well as a good part of my clothing. My shoes have worn out, and I can’t have them
fixed, as I have none to wear while they are being repaired. I’m fortunate to have the things Mother sent me,
most of which were in my kit bag which I personally carried; otherwise, I would really be in a very bad way.
Monday, Aug. 17, 1942 - First Lt. Howard is posted and leaves in a few days. I surely hate to see
him leave because his influence has been positive rather than negative as was usually the case with the other
Technical Officers. He was always bright, cheerful, friendly, and helpful. The RCAF men have commented
favorably about him, and I’ve heard no complaints from the RAF. I hope we will get a good replacement.
Tuesday, Aug. 18, 1942 - Today Ian Wright and I went to see "Song of the Island" at the Strand in
Douglas. It was very good but not quite up to some other Dorothy Lamour pictures. When we returned, Ian
was put on a charge. He should have stayed in camp, as there is gardening every Tuesday. He had forgotten
about it. Airmen live in fear of being "put on a charge" and the consequencies thereof. The new T.O. arrived
today. I hear that he is a British officer.
Wednesday, Aug. 19, 1942 - The “Voice of Alabama" informed us tonight that there was a raid on the
French coast today consisting mostly of Canadian troops. Not much information has come through, but it
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seems as though we landed tanks and destroyed some big guns across the Channel. I believe that the troops
are back now, but I guess it will be a few days yet before we hear the results. The casualties are said to have
been high on both sides. I wonder what the real objective was, and if such an action was worth it.
Thursday, Aug. 20, 1942 - The new T.O. seems to be a good chap, but he will have to be really good
to equal Lt. Howard. In a few days, we are going to have a mock invasion of camp. It should be a lot of fun.
This is probably to keep us aware that there is a war going on and that we are not on vacation. We were not
supposed to know about it in advance, but it is talked about in town. There has been no dope yet on yesterday’s raid across the Channel. I guess we have been told all that we will ever know.
Friday, Aug. 21, 1942 - I received two letters from home today. One was from mother telling me the
details about my sister Anne’s marriage. She married a Donald David Slesnick, who is a soldier at Maxwell
Field, near Montgomery. He is in administration and knows Uncle Hundley, who is the Provost Marshall at
Maxwell Field. Mother said that the ceremony at the Letohatchie Methodist Church was very beautiful. Don’s
parents from Buffalo, N.Y., were there for the wedding. He is a high level corporate executive in an insurance
company, and Donald Slesnick worked for the same company before he joined the army. It was the first time
that his parents had seen a small Alabama town, so I imagine they were shocked and horrified. The Methodist
Church is a small frame building. The other letter was from Eli Robinson. He said that Bill Colvard was now
in New Caledonia. I guess he must be involved in the raids on the Solomon Islands. Eli has finished at Auburn and will get a commission soon. There are some insects here called earwigs. They are little beetles, and
they get in our food, our beds, and clothing. I’m bloody tired of them.
Saturday, Aug. 22, 1942 - There are more and more American airmen and soldiers coming over
now. We don’t see them here, but people returning from leave say that they saw many of them in all of the
towns and cities. One of the men told me that there was recently some trouble in Liverpool. In the American
forces, the Whites and Negroes have completely separate companies and facilities, and they never mix socially. The British people do not understand this, and have unintentionally caused some bad situations. I understand that some British people think the Negroes are American "night fighters".
Sunday, Aug. 23, 1942 - The morning was spent working on a trip-line to the newest "T" Block
(ACH). This afternoon, Jack Boor went with a group of fellows to Cregneish to play softball. There was a
typical "shaky do" in the common room tonight, and I stayed there for a while. There seems to be some new
discontent now in camp. I think it is partly caused by the predictions we have heard lately that the war could
last another three years, or even more. Most of the British people, both civilian and military, have already had
their lives disrupted for three or more years. Some discontent may be caused by the lower than usual quality
of food being served in the mess. It is really bad. Also, there are numerous postings from here to other stations, and when the order arrives, the person must leave on the following morning. Everyone wonders when
their day will come. I wonder, too. I haven’t received any of my newspapers lately. Perhaps they are holding
that kind of thing out of the mail because of the bulk. They were my best source of knowing what is going on
back home. The CTC must have stopped recruiting new members very shortly after the U.S. got in the war. I
understand that the total number of members was probably less than 1,000. Jack Boor told me that when he
and George were in Canada in the middle of December. 1941, they were told that out of approximately
20,000 applicants, 825 had been accepted. I was #149, George was # 776, and Jack was #809. Some have left
to join the American forces here in Britain, some were sent back to the U.S. at their request, some were repatriated for health reasons, and some were sent back because they didn’t perform well in school or at their work
stations. Note (July 2000): I was reading on the Internet the autobiography of Frank Saffarrans, of Arlington,
Texas. He said that he had been accepted for the Civilian Technical Corps, but while waiting for his orders to
report, he was advised by the British Embassy that the United States had cancelled the CTC agreement. We
exchanged e-mails, and he told me that his memory is that he had received the notice about 10 days after
Pearl Harbor. End note. The CTC has moved its headquarters from Bournemouth to London, and the new
address is: Civilian Technical Corps Headquarters, 111 Strand, W.C. 2, London, England. This will make it
easier for CTC members to visit the headquarters.
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Monday, Aug. 24, 1942 - Flight Sgt. Jeff Howes is here from Wing, and I have been assigned to help
him in installing some modifications. I always enjoy working with Jeff. It also gives me a chance to understand what changes have been made to the equipment. CTC Floyd Harkcom from Bride was here on a visit
today. He has no news of importance concerning the CTC. I still have heard nothing about my foot-locker and
am beginning to give up hope. Frank Myers and Roy Thomas have been promoted to corporal. They are both
good men, but I don’t know what system they use for determining who gets promotions and who doesn’t. I
probably know more about the men’s performance than anybody here, but I haven’t been asked.
Tuesday, Aug. 25, 1942 - I invited Jeff and his wife to dinner at the Supper Bar this evening, and it
was a very good meal. Vernie had been advised ahead of time, and she did a good job. We had rabbit, which
is not rationed on the Isle of Man, and we had a sufficient quantity. Jeff and his wife are interesting people,
and it was an enjoyable evening. I don’t like hut inspection day, but take it in stride. Whether it needs it or
not, we have to polish the floors and get everything just so for the C.O. to walk through. I had not thought that
one of my duties would be to clean and polish my hut space; however, I do it anyway to make my area look
good after the others have gone to so much trouble. I also do it to keep the C.O. happy so that he will continue
to look the other way when he sees "The Voice of Alabama" on our table.
Wednesday, Aug. 26, 1942 - The weather is perfect today, but I’m too miserable over my missing
foot-locker to be happy about anything. Everything that I was studying, -- my math books, my French book,
my electronics books, and the books about the Isle of Man were in it, and so were all of my personal papers
except for my RAF identification and passport. I don’t even have the address for some of the people with
whom I was corresponding. All of my photos and civilian clothes were in it. Wing sent me word that they are
going to send me my back pay. That is jolly nice of them. They have not yet begun to pay me for my promotion. In the past, they have paid me such random amounts that I would need a bookkeeper to keep up with it.
I’ve given up trying, and will take whatever they send me. We have lost three more of our good men, all Canadians and all friends of mine. Frank Myer, Wally Nuttall, and Murray Short have been posted to the new
station at Dalby. Most of the men left now are inexperienced men. I believe we are running a RDF school.
Thursday, Aug. 27, 1942 - Oh, happy, happy day!! My luggage has come! What a blessed relief! I
won’t even wonder where it has been all this time, but will just delight in its being here. I have really missed
my books, pictures, and other personal things. Everything is there, just as I had packed it. And that’s not all.
My back pay was received from Wing today. It amounted to £8/5/-. How they figured that, I don’t know. Nor
will I worry with it. I’m enjoying my day work because we have had plenty of interesting work to do. Bernard
Hope has been promoted to corporal. I hope that this doesn’t mean that he will be transferred. He is a good
man. The weather has been much better the past few days. I was talking with the Scarlett farmer, Mr. Watterson, and he said they nearly always have a few days of good weather at harvest time. The farmers are very
hard workers. They even cut some of their grain by hand. I’m still happy because of the return of my luggage.
Friday, Aug. 28, 1942 - Sometimes when the sun comes out, so much vapor begins to rise from the
ground that it gets very foggy and "Moaning Minnie" begins to blow. It has been that way today. When I go
to Douglas on the bus, I always buy a return ticket, but sometimes I return on the train. I can’t remember to
use them, so I’ve accumulated several Douglas to Castletown bus tickets.
Saturday, Aug. 29, 1942 - Although inexperienced, the mechanics we now have are sufficient for a
four-watch system instead of the three-watch system on which we have been. When Jeff Howes leaves, I will
try to get back on watches. I have my study materials now, and that would give me more time for study and
also more time to explore the Island. A new WAAF operator, a pretty Scots lassie named Jessie Falconer, has
appeared on the scene, and Jack Boor lost no time in spotting her.
Sunday, Aug. 30, 1942 - I had the day off, but it rained all day and I had to stay in. I wrote a letter
home asking Mother to buy and send me a good semi-automatic telegraph key (a "bug"). I told her that first
choice is a Vibroplex, and if she can’t get one of them, a Speed-X will do. I would not be able to use it on the
Preston W/T net because their speed is too slow for a bug, but I want to retain my sending ability by practic-
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ing. I have a buzzer that can be used for that purpose. I wonder how long it will be before I get it, if it makes
its way safely through the mails. I have enjoyed today more than most days that I must spend in camp. We
seem to have a better crowd here now than at some times in the past. Or maybe I’m becoming more adjusted
to this lifestyle. I took the time to clean out my kit bag and gathered together all of my dirty clothes. I wish I
had some of Jack Boor’s neatness. He is one neat guy! He seems always to be pressing his uniform, polishing
his shoes, and arranging his belongings. Jeff and Bernard will be here another week. I will soon have been
keeping this diary for a year.
Monday, Aug. 31, 1942 - Today, I went along the street that runs along the shore toward King William’s College to see Mrs. Vera Hardman, who was recommended to me as being someone who could give
me some piano lessons. She lives in a fine home named "Beachview" overlooking Castletown Bay. Mrs.
Hardman is a very nice, cultured lady. She told me that when she was young, she used to play the piano in a
theatre in London during the days of silent films. I can get 45-minute lessons from her for 3 shillings per lesson. She gave me a lesson so that I could get an idea of what is involved. I’m a fast touch typist, so maybe
that will help as far as dexterity is concerned. I’ve decided to take some lessons if I can find some place
where I can practice. Jeff and Bernard are winding up their work and don’t need any more help, so I will go
back on "A" watch tomorrow with Fred Nash. I simply must get a haircut tomorrow. Ever since my fish oil
experience, I’ve dreaded to go to the barber.
#82 -- Jim Farrior and Fred Nash at Duggan's Cafe in Castl etown. Next to the Super
Bar, this was the best place to eat, especially brea kfast, or to have a cup of tea and a
tart. (Delayed autom atic shut ter used -- Sept. 1942.
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Tuesday, Sept. 1, 1942 - Thank goodness for Duggan’s Café. I sometimes go there for breakfast
when I don’t feel I can face the camp fare. Also, I sometimes stop in for a cup of tea and also a tart when Mrs.
Mac has them. When I was there today, I asked her if she knew anyone who had a piano who wouldn’t mind
my practicing on it. She called a Mrs. Preston, who sometimes works at the café, and she said she wouldn’t
mind at all. That solves the piano problem, so I’m ready to get started.
Wednesday, Sept. 2, 1942 - Fred Nash and I went to Douglas and went through the Manx Museum.
Margaret Stevenson was there and showed us through. She has always acted like I was doing her a favor by
letting her show me through the museum. I have been through it a number of times and could almost give her
standard talk, except I wouldn’t be able to answer questions. I now know enough to ask questions, and I learn
many new things each time.
Thursday, Sept. 3, 1942 - I tapped on Mrs. Preston’s door and found her to be a very nice lady. She
told me that any time I wanted to practice, and she was home, I would be welcomed. She has a very good piano, and I practiced for about an hour. Obviously, I can’t do anything yet as I’ve had only one lesson. I mostly studied the position of the notes on the keyboard. Perhaps the day will come soon when I can play a simple
song. It sure does take my mind off of other things.
Friday, Sept. 4, 1942 - I went to Mrs. Hardman’s home and had another piano lesson. It seems
somewhat childish, but there’s no other way to go about it. She gave me a few sheets of beginner’s music and
also some material on how music is written.
The weather is really changeable. Last night the wind was screaming through the towers and the wire
rigging that supports the camouflage netting over the blocks. This morning, it was calm, warm, and beautiful,
but in the afternoon it became windy and cold. Summer has gone, and it passed almost before I knew it was
here. I hate to look forward to another winter of cold winds, rains, snows, and fogs. However, I’m far more
accustomed to it than I was when I arrived.
Saturday, Sept. 5, 1942 - Stan Collier and I went to Douglas and saw "Dangerous Moonlight",
which was the best British made movie I’ve ever seen. It is the one in which the "Warsaw Concerto" appeared. It is really a beautiful piece of music. I got a parcel from home that had 8 rolls of film in it. That
solves my film problem for a while! Film is almost impossible to find now.
Sunday, Sept 6, 1942 - The WAAF personnel on the station are required to do sandbagging and to
attend rifle drill. I really don’t think that is right. I hate the very thought of a woman fighting with a rifle. If it
gets to that, the war has been lost. There are a number of soldiers kept here for station defense, and except for
their watches, they seem never to do anything. Sometimes, but not often, they march around. The C.O. should
make them do the sandbagging instead of the women. We had another "shakey do" tonight in the common
room. This one was better than most because some food and beer were put out. It was a lively affair with
visitors from Dalby, Ronaldsway, Bride, and Cregneish. We have been having a war savings drive this week
and a lot of savings stamps were bought tonight. It isn’t very productive to sell them to airmen, because many
of them become broke and go to the post office and get their money back. However, their hearts are in the
right place when they buy them.
Monday, Sept. 7, 1942 - I had another piano lesson today, and it is obvious that it is going to be
much harder than learning to type or to operate a telegraph key, both of which I found to be very easy. Without even considering one’s basic musical talent, which is probably inherited as much as learned, playing the
piano requires far more dexterity than typing. With typing, one’s hands stay in the same location, and only
one finger is used at a time. Also, one simply does it as fast as one can without making errors, and there is
little consideration of the timing. With music, timing is fundamental, and is equally as important as the notes.
Also, the hands must travel back and forth along the keyboard, and multiple fingers are used at the same time.
Making a mistake while typing is not nearly as bad as making a mistake while playing music. When typing,
when one makes a mistake, it can be fixed, and when one loses ones place, one can stop and find it. When
playing music, it must go on without losing a beat. This is certainly not going to come easily. The weather has
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become quite cold, and it has started to rain every day. Summer is definitely a thing of the past. Somewhere
the postal dam broke, and today I received a stack of about 20 Montgomery Advertisers. This will keep me
reading for a while, but much of it will be history rather than current events. After I have read an issue, I put it
out on the table in the hut, and the men seem to enjoy reading them. The war news is often over a month old,
but it is more detailed coverage than we get over the radio or a local paper.
Tuesday, Sept. 8, 1942 - I practiced on Mrs. Preston’s piano for over an hour today. I’m now practicing the scale of C major using the correct fingering and one hand only. The C.O. held a French class tonight,
and it was very interesting. He is a good teacher and has talents I didn’t know he had. There were a few
WAAFs, but Fred Nash and I were the only men there. It was very interesting, and I got answers to a number
of questions. However, he seemed disappointed with the small turnout, and I doubt that he will hold another
class. What a pity! He can order us to do a lot of stupid things, but I guess he can’t order us to attend French
classes.
Wednesday. Sept. 9, 1942 - Today marks the last day of the first year of this diary. This, the first
Volume, covers Sept 10, 1941 through Dec. 31, 1941 and Jan. 1, 1942 through Sept. 9, 1942. Volume 2 will
begin with tomorrow’s entry, Sept. 10, 1942. This year has been the most interesting year of my life, and a
great deal was packed into it in spite of many days when nothing much happened. Unfortunately, some of the
most interesting things could not be included because they are technical details that are classified. We had
been warned in Cranwell about the need to maintain secrecy, so I’ve had to be careful not to include technical
details of a kind that would violate that requirement.
END of the First Year of my Diary
****
First Entry of the Second Volume
Thursday, Sept. 10, 1942 - This is the first day of the second year that I kept my diary. If as much
happens this year as happened last year, it will indeed be a very exciting year. Although there have been some
frustrations, I’m satisfied that my decision to join the CTC was a good one in many ways.
I had another piano lesson today at Mrs. Hardman’s home. She played two pieces for me, one popular
and the other classic. The score of the classical piece looked like bunches of grapes hanging on an arbor. She
plays beautifully! I’m learning the values of the notes and rests. The musical notes and rests don’t have the
same names as in the U.S. Instead of the note, half-note, quarter-note, etc., they use semi-breve, minim,
crotchet, quaver, etc. I hope I don’t get posted before I can at least learn more of the basics. Mrs. Preston
seems happy to have me use her piano, but she must get tired of hearing me play scales. I haven’t asked her if
she plays. The weather has been real nice for the past two days, better than most of the days we had during
the summer. Flt. Sgt. Jeff Howes is here to do some special maintenance, and I expect to be detailed to help
him. I hope so, because it is always fun and educational to work with him. He is an exceptional person. Jack
Boor and Jessie Falconer have become like Siamese twins. When you see one, you usually see the other.
Friday, Sept. 11, 1942 - I went to Cregneish today and saw their new equipment. It seemed to me to
be very similar in function to the old equipment. However, I didn’t learn much because the visit was very
short. We heard today that all of the radio mechanics at the Scarlett station would be considered as candidates
for the air gunners school. Although that doesn’t include me, it concerns me because of the adverse affect it
could have on our CH station. I’ve heard that many CH stations are still short of personnel. It would not be
unlike the military to be turning out new, inexperienced mechanics at Cranwell while posting experienced
mechanics to the air gunners school, where their CH training and experience would be of no value. There is a
dance being held at Odd Fellows Hall tonight, and nearly everyone is there. The hut is deserted. I decided to
skip this one and do some reading about the Isle of Man.
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Saturday, Sept. 12, 1942 – I’ve been working with Flt. Sgt. Jeff Howes today, and have been very
busy. Jeff played the piano in the common room tonight. He is a fine pianist, and played the "Warsaw Concerto" and the "Melody in F", both from memory. Jeff’s wife, Peggy, is in the WAAF and is now posted here.
I expect that in the future he will decide that a lot of things at this station need his attention. George Fulton
has an electric razor that has a small motor designed for 110 volts, 60 c.p.s. The voltage here is typically 220
volts, 50 c.p.s. George found that his razor works fine with two low wattage light bulbs in series with his razor. There is a bit more sparking at the brushes and a slight smell of ozone. Electric razors are fairly common
in the U.S., but not here. When he arrived here, and began using it, it was a real curiosity.
Sunday, Sept. 13, 1942 - Like my newspapers, my letters from home arrive in bunches. That means
that I often don’t get a letter for several weeks. Jeff played the piano again in the common room. He draws a
crowd when he plays. He can pick up a strange piece of music and play it without hesitation. I can hardly
conceive of such a skill, and it is even more amazing now that I’ve had a few lessons. Jeff has told me that he
is amazed at my telegraphic skill. To each his own. Before I started keeping a diary, I thought it would be
very uninteresting. However, I find it interesting to read back and see how my opinions have changed and
how seemingly difficult situations turn out to be not half as bad as anticipated.
Monday, Sept. 14, 1942 - I had another piano lesson. Considering that I haven’t had any music lessons before, I guess I’m not doing too badly. I’m practicing playing, with both hands, scales and arpeggios in
the scale of C. If I were not concerned about being a bother to Mrs. Preston, I would practice more. Jeff is
through now and I’m going back on watch. Except when Jeff is here, I really like the watches more than day
duties, as I have more time to study.
Tuesday, Sept. 15, 1942 - I’m not much of a dancer, so I don’t go to many of the dances that are
away from camp. When we have a dance here at camp, several of the WAAFs have been helping me learn. It
is a lot of fun, and I’m doing better than at first. I often go to the flicks at the Cosy Cinema, but they are usually old and I’ve already seen many of them in Atlanta. I also go to Douglas from time to time, and we often
go there as a group. What I like most is looking at the things of interest on the Island. However, the weather,
and the shifts I work have not allowed much of that. I’m becoming more used to the weather now. The local
people don’t seem to let it get in their way unless it is very bad indeed. A while back I promised the Stevensons that I would visit them soon. They are really nice people, and I enjoy my visits very much. Margaret is a
fountain of knowledge about Manx history and culture, and she has told me many interesting things and has
recommended some books for me to read. I must visit them soon. Jeff’s wife left the WAAF today. She is
expecting a baby. Jeff will probably not be coming here as often as I had thought. Maybe she will stay here.
Wednesday, Sept. 16, 1942 - We have a number of documents in the T Blocks, some of which are
classified secret. One of them contains large folded wiring diagrams of the MB2 that are unfolded when used
for trouble-shooting. The documents are kept on a bookshelf above the desk where we sit when on watch.
Since we don’t have a safe for them, we are required not to leave them unattended. Both men on watch can’t
step out of the building at the same time. The first thing we must do when we go on watch is to check each
page of each secret document to confirm that it is present and intact. We then must make a log entry to that
effect. Today, shortly after I left T Block-1, I was called back, and when I entered I found the T.O. there in a
very agitated state, to say the least. My watch had been relieved by two inexperienced mechanics, and one of
them was checking the secret documents and determined that a wiring diagram was missing. He reported it to
the T.O., who was at the R Block. He immediately went to the T Block and, as the British say, there were
"bags of chaos!" The T.O. was in a bloody rage, and everybody was very excited. He ordered that I be contacted, as I had been the one who had made the previous log entry. Actually, they found me at the R Block,
where I had stopped for a cup of tea prior to going back to camp. I guess they had spent their time tearing
their hair rather than looking, because when I looked in the book, the diagram was there.
Others, including Jack Boor who had just returned to camp, had also been called back, but the document had been found before they arrived. Jack had planned to take Jessie Falconer to Douglas, and he had to
walk hurriedly back through the farm to the technical site, as the lorry was not available. I was off the hook,
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but the T.O. stormed out saying that we were going to have to devise a better system for checking the secret
documents. Although not a very good system, it has always worked, including this time. The delay caused
Jack to miss lunch and the train to Douglas. To add insult to injury, the T.O. assigned him the job of writing a
new manual for checking the secret documents. Jack said that the event had not only ruined his plans, but the
fast walking and emotional nonsense had totally worn him out. The coming winter weather is already giving
me a sinus problem, and my new RAF boots are killing me. Fortunately, I’m otherwise feeling fine.
Thursday, Sept. 17, 1942 - There are some RAF songs that are sung whenever a group of us get together at the Vic pub, or sometimes in the common room at camp when someone is there who can play the
piano. The lyrics of some of them are not so nice and are not given below. The ones given below are from
memory and are probably incomplete and may contain errors.
Bless Them All
A troop ship was leaving Bombay
Bound for Old Blighty’s shores
Heavily laden with time-expired men
Bound for the land they adore.
There's many an airman just finishing his time
There’s many a bloke signing on
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean
So cheer up my lads, bless them all.
Bless them all, Bless them all
The long and the short and the tall
Bless all the sergeants and WO 1’s
Bless all the corporals and their blinking sons
For we’re saying goodbye to the all
As back to their billets they crawl
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean
So cheer up my lads, bless them all.
The following is all I have of what is probably a long poem:
They say if you work hard you’ll get better pay
We’ve heard all that before
Clean up your buttons and polish your boots
scrub out the barrack room floor
Here’s another RAF song:
An Airman Who Was Far, Far, Away
Around her leg she wore a purple garter
She wore it in the springtime and the merry month of May
And if you ask her why the hell she wore it
She wore it for an airman who was far, far away.
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Chorus:
Far away, far away
She wore it for an airman who was far, far away
Around the park she pushed a baby carriage
She pushed it in the springtime and the merry month of May
And if you asked her why the hell she pushed it
She pushed it for an airman who was far, far away.
Repeat Chorus
Behind the door her father kept a shotgun
He kept it in the springtime and the merry month of May
And if you asked her why the hell he kept it
He kept it for an airman who was far, far away.
Repeat Chorus
And on a grave she placed a wreath of flowers
She placed them in the springtime and in the month of May
And if you asked her why the hell she placed it
She placed it for an airman who was six feet down.
(Everyone present would join in singing the words “six feet down:”)
And another RAF song:
I've Got Sixpence
I’ve got six pence - jolly, jolly, sixpence
I’ve got six pence to last me all my life
I’ve got tuppence to spend and tuppence to lend
And tuppence to send home to my wife.
Chorus:
Rollin’ home, rollin’ home,
By the light of the silvery moon
Happy is the day when the Airman gets his pay
And he goes rollin’, rollin’ home.
I’ve got no cares to grieve me
No pretty little girls to deceive me
I'm as happy as a king, believe me
As I go rollin', rollin' home.
Repeat Chorus
Sept. 18, 1942 - The Andreas fighter station has invited a rifle team from Scarlett to participate in a
competition to be held there soon. I’ve been told that I will be on the team. I sure would like to do some
shooting, as it has been quite a while since we had rifle practice. Several times, I’ve had the highest score.
Jack and George also have had leading scores. All three of us were hunters. I wrote a letter to Bill Colvard,
my hunting friend in Letohatchie, and sent it to his Army Post Office (APO). He is somewhere in the Pacific,
and I hope he comes through it safely. If he were here to shoot, he would win first place every time. I also
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wrote a letter to my Letohatchie friend, Jimmy Coleman, who has been good about writing to me since I left
home. I hope he gives me some more information about his brother, Guy.
Saturday, Sept. 19, 1942 - Exactly a year ago today, I boarded a train at Atlanta and left for Montreal, Canada, to join the CTC. Although the year has passed rather quickly, I have had many interesting experiences and have learned many things. Sometimes I get homesick for Atlanta and my friends there, but mostly,
I get homesick for my family and friends in my hometown of Letohatchie, Alabama. There are many boyhood friends about whom I have had no news, and I wonder what has happened to them. I learned earlier
from Jimmy Coleman, that his brother Guy Coleman is now a Navy radioman. Guy went with me on a twoweek trip down the Alabama River in a very small paddleboat in the summer of 1940. Most of the boys I
knew have joined the military services. They didn’t tell me when I joined the CTC that I was joining a military service.
Sunday, Sept. 20, 1942 - The camp is now chock full of personnel. Jack, George, and I are trying to
take advantage of this by requesting that we be billeted out in a local home. George Ashley, who is married,
has been billeted out for months and his wife is here with him. All three of us are eating at least one meal a
day outside now. We understand that the money that we would receive for the billeting would not provide a
decent billet and food, but if we add a little of our money we will be able to live rather well compared to the
present situation. If we could get in the same home, it would probably save us some money.
Monday, Sept. 21, 1942 - Mrs. Preston told me that she will be working most of the day at Duggan’s
Café, so it will not be possible for me to practice at her home any more. She is a very nice lady and was very
kind to let me practice. I’m shall look for another place. It looks as if Stalingrad will fall. If it can not hold out
a few weeks longer, Germany may be able to penetrate further into Russia before the extreme cold weather
stops them. This is a critical time on that front.
Tuesday, Sept. 22, 1942 - Mrs. Hardman has agreed to let me practice on her piano some mornings,
so I will be able to continue my lessons. One of the men told me that the C.O. had something to say today
about the way my bed was made up when he came through making his inspection. I must admit that my domestic skills are poor at best, but I thought it looked rather good. However, he didn’t say anything about "The
Voice of Alabama", which is in plain sight on the table. If the C.O. approves our request to be billeted out, he
wouldn’t have to worry about my bed and radio. That’s a point in my favor. Tomorrow, I will look around for
a place to stay in the event we can get permission to live out.
Wednesday, Sept. 23, 1942 - Today Jack and I went out in search of a room, and stopped at the British Legion for a cup of tea. Mrs. Stephens, who is the wife of Dr. Stephens, the Scarlett Camp’s doctor, is a
volunteer there, and she recommended that we talk with Mr. and Mrs. Fred Cooil, an elderly couple who live
at "Merton Croft". Mrs. Cooil’s home is located on a street named "The Crofts", which is not far from camp.
It is probably the best street in Castletown, and is the same street where George Ashley is billeted. What luck!
Mrs. Cooil has a second floor room large enough for the three of us. The room is on the back of her house and
overlooks a beautiful garden. It is heated by an electric fireplace. A bathroom with a tub is located on a landing between the first and second floor. She also has a piano in her large living room. The situation seems
made to order. Mrs. Cooil seems to be a very fine lady. She is leaving tomorrow on the plane to Liverpool,
and will return on Oct. 7th. We will not be able to move until that date, and only if our request to live out has
been approved. I thought that Cooil was probably a Manx name, so I looked up the word in my Manx dictionary and found that it means "nook". There is also a small village named Cooil shown on my Ordnance Survey
Map about 2 miles due west of Douglas.
Everything seems too good to be true. I fear that something bad will happen like a disapproval of our
living out request, or a posting to Wing, or perhaps something that I haven’t even imagined. There is no advertising on British radio. Instead, the cost of running the radio broadcasting stations, including the programming, is borne by the government. The cost is partly covered by requiring that all people having a radio must
buy a license. If we move into Merton Croft, I suppose I’ll have to get a license for the "The Voice of Ala-
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bama". It seems very strange. Surely, the income from licenses does not begin to pay for the broadcasting, so
primarily the taxpayers must pay it. However, only those taxpayers who buy a license can legally have radios.
It seems unfair that the taxpayer who doesn’t have a radio must pay part of the cost of the BBC.
Thursday, Sept. 24, 1942 - Fred Nash and I went for a walk and took a few pictures. Later, I was on
my way to practice on the piano at Mrs. Hardman’s home, but got caught in a rain on the way and had to retreat. I got a letter from my friend Noel Cragin (CTC), who is at the CH station at Rhuddlan. He is very
browned off. In addition to all of the interviews, uncertainties, etc., that we have had, his living and working
conditions are not nearly as good as ours. He was in my hut at Cranwell, but I don’t know anything about his
technical capabilities. I don’t think he has received a promotion, and perhaps he has not earned one. George
Ashley got his third stripe and is now Sgt. Ashley. He really deserves it. He was an L.A.C. when I came here.
George and I have become good friends, and we spend much time talking when I’m on day shift and we have
the time. Sometimes, we do the maintenance together. He is from London, and has told me some interesting
things about living there. He plays the piano well, and has given me some good advice.
Friday, Sept. 25, 1942 - Cpl. Trevor Moon, the new man from New Zealand, can really play the piano well. He seems to be a nice chap. He has told me some things about New Zealand, and it sounds like a
very scenic and wonderful place. They eat five meals a day there! I think that four are too many. He said that
most of the cars are American and most houses are built in the American style. We are again well staffed so
we can expect some postings. If we don’t lose any mechanics, we will go on a four-watch system in a few
days, which will give me more time off. I can hardly wait to get into civilian billets!
Saturday, Sept. 26, 1942 - Cpl. Roy Thomas was posted overseas. He got the word yesterday and
left this morning. It seems strange that the people being posted are not given at least several days to reduce
the impact of these personnel changes on the man and on the organization. We need time to make new watch
schedules. I hate to see Roy go. Also, a sergeant, a leading aircraftsman, and a corporal, all of whom arrived
here only a few days ago, have been posted. I’m afraid that kills our chances for a four-watch system. Jack
Boor was called early this morning to the technical site to correct a problem on the ACH R tower, so he got to
see the sun rise from the tower top, which is nearly 100 feet high. He said it took a while, practically hanging
by his knees, and he got pretty cold. Jack seems to gets sick easily. In addition to his stay in the camp hospital
when he first arrived, he recently spent several days in the camp hospital recovering from what Dr. Stephens
said was "stomach flu". Jack is complaining about the difficulty of getting film for his camera. He has used all
that he had taking pictures of Jessie. I went to Langness Point with Fred Nash to see a football game between
Derbyhaven and Scarlett. English football is played with a round ball, and must be somewhat similar to soccer, which I have heard about but have never seen played in the U.S. I told Mrs. Hardman that I would stop
taking piano lessons until I get in civilian billets. Hopefully, I will then have a piano on which to practice.
Sunday, Sept. 27, 1942 - Jack, George, and I have received letters from the U.S. Army Electronics
Battalion saying that we could enlist with a rating of sergeant if we wished to transfer to the American forces.
We have talked it over, and none of us wants to accept that. I believe that Jack’s draft classification would not
permit him to join the U.S. armed forces unless the physical standards have been lowered. His vision is poor,
but he seems to have no problem when wearing glasses. I hope to be going to London soon, and when I do I
will find out more about it. Having worked very closely with the U.S. Army when I worked as a telegrapher
at Ft. Benning, Ft. McClellan, and Ft. McPherson, I know that there is a considerable difference between the
different levels of sergeants in the U.S. Army. The pay could be either more or less than what I’m receiving
now.
Monday, Sept. 28, 1942 - I have requested my leave for Nov. 4th and plan to go to London, and
maybe some other places. While I am in London, I will be able to get my passport renewed. "The Voice of
Alabama" is standing us in good stead. We get news and entertainment, and there has been no adverse comment from the C.O. Since the valves in it were all old when I got them, I fear the loss of another valve may
put it permanently out of service.
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Tuesday, Sept. 29, 1942 - It has been quite a while since I have had a letter from home. I suppose I
will get a stack of them some day. George plans to go with me on leave because he also must get his passport
renewed.
Wednesday, Sept. 30, 1942 - Fred Nash, Bruce Liberty and I hiked to the top of South Barrule. It
was a beautiful, scenic walk. We walked out the Port St. Mary road until we came to the Ballabeg turnoff,
where we turned and continued on to Ballabeg. At Ballabeg we continued on the road that goes over the
mountain pass toward Dalby. On the way to the foot of the mountain, we paused to eat some of the wild
blackberries that grow along the edge of the road. There were really good.
We continued along the road through beautiful country, gaining altitude and a view as we went, until
we reached the mountain pass area. At that point, we left the road and began our climb to the summit. At the
lower levels, walking was difficult because there were numerous clumps of gorse, and the heather formed a
thick carpet. At higher levels, the vegetation decreased until it was essentially bare of vegetation except for a
relatively thin covering of heather, which was not difficult to negotiate. At no point was the climb steep
enough to cause any difficulty. We came to a place near the summit where there were a number of stones.
Without a close look, it appeared that they could be part of the bedrock that has weathered out. I believe it is
the place called "Camp" on my map, a place that I’ve also heard is called the "Old Roman Camp". However,
that latter name could not be accurate because I’ve read that the Romans were never on the Isle of Man.
We decided this would be a good place to eat. Fred and Bruce had a few cans of food that had been
sent to them from Canada, and together with a few food items we had begged from the mess, we had a pretty
good lunch. By that time we were ready for some food. We had also brought some water. After lunch, we
went the short distance to the summit, which is shown on the map to be 1,585 ft above sea level. Although the
weather was good, it was not a good day for viewing from the mountain because of the haze. We could see
Peel rather clearly, which was a little over five miles away, and could faintly make out the Castletown and
Port St. Mary areas. We had left camp about 10:30 A.M. and arrived at the top about 2:30 P.M. However, we
had made no effort to hurry.
The downhill return was much faster and easier. We stopped at a pub in Ballabeg and refreshed ourselves with a much-needed beer. By that time, we were quite thirsty. On the mantel in the pub, there is a very
interesting old clock that is covered by a glass dome. Instead of the conventional swinging pendulum, it has a
torsion pendulum. A disk-shaped weight is supported by a thin wire attached to the center of the disk. The
disk does not swing, but rotates back and forth about the axis of the wire. We were told that it keeps good
time and is wound only once a year. I've never before seen that kind of clock. We figured that we walked
about 12 miles in all, some of it rather difficult walking. I took some pictures along the way. It was a wonderful hike, and we had a lot of fun.
Note (2001): I read on the Internet that the RAF American Eagle Squadrons were deactivated during
Sept. 1942, and were transferred to the U.S. Army Air Corps becoming the 4th and 8th Fighter Groups of the
8th Air Force. That probably explains why the American Eagle Club changed to the American Red Cross
Eagle Club about that time. End note.
Thursday, October 1, 1942 - I’m somewhat sore from the long walk we took yesterday. Fred Nash,
Rose Hodges, Vera Bradford, and I went to Douglas and saw the film "The Man Who Came to Town". It was
quite good. We went up on the train and once again I can vouch for the fact that the wheels are bloody square.
However, the bumping, swaying, and rocking motions, and the squeaking, clicking, clacking, scraping, and
grating noises, as well as the shrill whistle, the smell generated by the coal burning boiler, and the quaint appearance of the engine and coaches, all go together to create a very pleasant and exciting ride. For defense of
the technical site blocks, we have a few very old bolt-action .303 military rifles and some more modern Sten
guns, which are similar to automatic pistols to which crude stocks are attached. The Sten gun is very simple
and cheaply made, and I understand that it was designed to be made in poorly equipped machine shops by
people having little or no experience in such work. In addition to that, we have nail-studied clubs and pikes,
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which are sticks with bayonets attached. Someone has attached an instruction to the clubs, which says, "To be
used with bravery and determination". It has been so peaceful here on the Isle of Man, that the defensive
weapons now seem superfluous. Earlier, the concern about an invasion was more justified.
Friday, Oct. 2, 1942 - Finally, we are on a four-watch system, and every few days, I get a full day
off. I learned from a WAAF in the office that Jack, George and I should be billeted out in the very new future.
That is great news! Jack said that he and Jessie caught the electric train at Derby Castle and went to a place
called "Groudle Glen", which he said was very nice. George has been there, too, and I must go there soon.
Saturday, Oct 3, 1942 - It was a fun day. Eric and I went to Douglas on the train. We met Cliff Harding and a crowd of others from Cregneish and Dalby. We had tea at the Villa Marina. Cliff is a professional
pianist, and he played the piano. Later tonight, he played with the orchestra at the "Palais de Dance", where
we all stayed for a while. My main purpose for going to Douglas was to have some passport photos taken, but
I didn’t get around to it. Jack doesn’t like paper work any more than I do. He said he had to spend the day
working on the 1497s, which are the maintenance forms. There are many forms, and some of the people can
rattle their numbers off from memory. I’m no good at that.
Sunday, Oct 4, 1942 - Some very good songs have come out lately. Among those we heard last night
were: One Dozen Roses, Three Little Sisters, One More Kiss, Moonlight Cocktails, and The Jersey Bounce.
Monday, Oct 5, 1942 - Fred Nash and I went to Douglas today and had some passport photos taken.
I also bought a slide rule and was lucky enough to find a roll of film. I still have some left from the package I
received from home, so I will have enough film to use when I’m on leave. While I was in Douglas, I bought a
pocket comb for 3 shillings and 9 pence, which is 11 times what it would have cost in the U.S.
#125 -- Harry Cooke and Noel Cragin at Rhuddlan, Flintshire
Note: - Harry and Noel had modified their
uniform. I never saw during my time in the CTC a
hat-badge like the ones in the photo, or CTC
wings as worn above their left pocket, or items
worn on the lapel. The hats they are wearing were
issued in Canada, but all other CTC men that I
knew stopped wearing them as soon as they had
been issued the standard RAF cap. The patch on
Noel’s right arm (barely seen) is the patch worn
by RAF radio mechanics, and is not part of the
CTC dress code.
Tuesday, Oct. 6, 1942 - The whole camp
was confined to camp today for failure to clean up our quarters properly. That restriction shouldn’t be applied
to Jack, George, or me, but to preserve our good relations with the C.O. and the men, we also stayed in camp.
Thank goodness, the C.O. didn’t say anything about "The Voice of Alabama". I seem to have very good relations with him and would like to keep it that way. I got a letter from Noel Cragin (CTC) at Rhuddlan. I feel
sorry for him. He is very depressed about the questionable future of the CTC because of the declining membership due to members leaving to join the American Armed Forces, or American governmental agencies. He
is considerably older than I am, and he thinks his options now are few, and will not get better. Actually, I
think he is not so bad off. I think he should just stop worrying and make the best of the present situation, and
if the CTC should shut down because the membership becomes too small, he would undoubtedly be discharged and sent back to his home at no cost to him. Because of his age and poor vision, I think that his draft
situation must be similar to that of Jack Boor, who is not subject to the draft for physical reasons. Noel would
have no end of work opportunities in the U.S.
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Wednesday, Oct. 7, 1942 - Fantastic news! A day to remember! Our authority to live out came
through today! I’m to get £1/9/9 a week, which is supposed to cover food and shelter. I don’t see a problem
with that, as it is more than I had expected. Some of my photos came back, and one of them is a good picture
of the boys playing poker in the hut. It would shake the C.O. if he saw the picture, because playing poker is
forbidden. It was a year ago today that I boarded HMTS Andes for the trip across the Atlantic. The excitement has not ceased.
Thursday, Oct. 8, 1942 - The T.O. called a meeting today at the Diesel Switch Block, and all available radio mechanics had to attend. That block is not manned by radio mechanics, so we know very little about
the power system. We received an interesting lecture and demonstration. The Diesel Switch Block contains a
huge diesel engine that drives a generator that can supply all of the power required by the technical site, and
even more. In the event of a power failure, the emergency power system can be quickly started. There is also
a large panel of big switches that allow switching from the mains to local power and for determining which
outgoing power lines will receive the power. The power is distributed to the various blocks by an underground ring cable system, which means that each block receives power from two directions. In case of damage to a cable, all blocks will continue to receive power. The Manx electrical power distribution system
seems to be quite reliable because we have had only a few outages. From time to time, our emergency power
system is tested. Not wishing to delay our move to Merton Croft, Jack Boor and I went to see Mrs. Cooil
about our moving in, and she says that we could do it at any time. The cost of the room will be £1/10/- (10s
each) per week, complete with heating. The room has a rather low wattage electric heater mounted in the fireplace. I had expected that it would cost considerably more. Vernie Vanwell has agreed to furnish breakfast
and dinner at her home on Sundays, and dinner and supper at her Supper Bar on other days. Duggan’s Café is
a pretty nice place for breakfast. Things are falling into place!
George, Jack, and I move to Merton Croft!
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Friday, Oct 9, 1942 – I can’t believe our good fortune! We got
transport to Merton Croft with our belongings as the lorry was making a trip to the train station. I felt real bad
when I took "The Voice of Alabama" from the table in the hut, as it seemed that it belonged there. However,
we would need it at Merton Croft. It took us about two hours to get our books and other things packed away. I
have collected far too many books!
I can’t say that I won’t miss the hut. Being with the men has been enjoyable, and I’ve made many
good friends. Although we will have less contact with the men, we can always go there when we want to visit
with them. Also, we will still have use of the common room, where we have spent many entertaining hours
with the men and WAAFs. Jack is an unusually neat person, and I’m going to have to be careful not to offend
him with my bad housekeeping. George is a very friendly, relaxed, easygoing fellow, and nothing seems to
upset or excite him. He is always as steady as a rock. It surely does seem nice to be back in a home again! Mr.
and Mrs. Cooil (Fred and Nellie) seem to be very nice people. Our room is nicely decorated. There is a piano
in the living room, and after a few days, after we get settled, I will ask her if I can practice on it. Tonight, I
took Margie to the flicks and we saw a British comedy. I’m getting used to British humor, and I enjoyed it
very much. I took several pictures in front of Vernie’s home.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Saturday, Oct 10, 1942 - Mrs. Cooil showed me her beautiful
home. It is indeed a very wonderful house. She has much beautiful furniture. Some of it is genuine antique in
the Queen Anne style. In the living room, she has a beautiful marble fireplace. She is very fond of chinaware,
and has some very valuable Manx Gilt pieces. There are many brass items, which are kept brightly polished.
Even the large brass coalscuttle shines like new. In the hall, there is a fine grandfather’s clock that was made
on the Isle of Man. She says that it is an excellent timepiece. In the dining room there is a rather large fireplace, part of which contains an oven that she uses for baking. The bed situation is less than perfect. There is
a wide double bed and a single bed. Fortunately, most nights at least one of us will be working so there will
not be many times when the three of us will want to sleep at the same time. However, the beds have springs,
comfortable mattresses, sheets, nice pillows, and plenty of blankets and quilts. At the foot, the beds have a
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cylindrical roll as wide as the bed and under the bedclothes, which I believe is to keep the weight of the cover
off one’s feet. That’s going to have to come out, because with it in place the bed will be far too short. We will
be very comfortable here, and I hope we will not be a bother to Mr. and Mrs. Cooil.
Sunday, Oct 11, 1942 - Today we went to Vernie’s house at 10 Mill Street to have the noon meal for
the first time. It is located close to the Cosy Cinema. We had the best meal I’ve had since my arrival in England. She cooked some Yorkshire pudding, some vegetables, and good bread. While we were eating, the Bob
Hope show was on BBC. BBC is getting more American programs now than previously. Bob Hope was born
in England in 1903, but immigrated to the U.S. in 1907. His humor is, of course, strictly American. Perhaps
many British folks are able to enjoy it. We met Vernie’s mother, Mrs. Vanwell, who is bed-ridden. In
addition to other things, she has a very bad case of asthma. We talked with her a while and Vernie
told us that her mother had enjoyed our visit with her. Vernie’s young niece, ShirleyCooil, was also
having dinner with Vernie.
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#54 -- Jim Farrior, Vernie Vanwell, Jack Boor - This photo was t aken in front of
Vernie's hom e at 10 Mill Street in Castletown. That dear lady, Vernie, was nothing l ess
than an Angel! -- Oct. 11, 1942
Below: Left illustration: #100 – Cap Badges – Left: RAF (brass), Right: CTC (chrom e)
Right illustration: #101 – Top: CTC Shoulder patch – Bottom : CTC Forem an of Trades
rank badge, worn on l ower sleeve of t unic
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Monday, Oct 12, 1942 - Mrs. Cooil said that I might use her piano any time that I wish! I went down
to look at it, and it has some stuck keys and is slightly out of tune. It is a fine piano in a beautiful burl cabinet,
but Mrs. Cooil said that it had not been played in many years. She said she didn’t mind if I have someone
come and fix it. Although we had been eating several meals a week at Anne’s Super Bar, it is a real treat to
get two good meals there nearly every day. I went to see Mrs. Hardman about continuing my piano lessons,
and she said she could give me a lesson Saturday at 19:30 hrs. Things are shaping up. I’ve really enjoyed
learning how to use the slide rule that I recently bought. It is very easy to use and accurate enough for most
purposes. It is especially good for solving electrical problems using logarithms and trig functions. I should
have had one of these a long time ago. I have begun making a Christmas card list. Christmas cards will be
very hard to find this year, so it is not too early to start looking. It sure is good to have a quiet place to sit and
read, study, write letters, repair my socks, or take a nap. It is pleasant and very relaxing just to sit and gaze
out the window.
#65 – Jack Boor, Oct . 11, ‘42
#102 – Jessie Falconer, May 16, ’42
Note: Jack and Jessie were m arried in Febr uary 1944.
Tuesday, Oct. 13, 1942 - One can’t have all good luck. Today Fred Nash and Staff Miller were posted. Not only do I lose two of my best friends, but also we must go on a three-watch system again. It is getting
so that most of the men here now have been here only a very short while and are practically strangers to me.
There was even worse bad luck for Jack. He learned that Jessie Falconer, the WAAF he has been going with
for a while, has been posted. Jessie is a very nice Scottish lassie. I worked his shift today so that he could be
with her. He was supposed to work my shift tomorrow, but that shift was eliminated by the change from four
to three watches. Each of us needs a key to Mrs. Cooil’s home, but she didn’t have any extra keys. We went
all over town today trying to have some made. We finally found a local plumber, who had one key blank, and
we took it to another place and had a key made. It was cut out with a file.
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Wednesday, Oct. 14, 1942 - I bought several apples and pears today. They were little shriveled up
knots, but were real expensive. However, they tasted good and fresh fruit is hard to come by. George decided
to solve the key problem himself, so he took a couple of pieces of scrap metal from the junk box at the "A"
site and used a file to fashion a pair of keys. They work fine so each of us has a key and can get in the house
without disturbing Mrs. Cooil.
#56 -- Vernie Vanwell
and Shirley Cooil,
daughter of Vernie's
sister, Am elia Va nwel l
Cooil, at Vernie's hom e
at 10 Mill Street in Ca stletown.
Thursday, Oct. 15,
1942 - I went to Douglas today to see about having Mrs.
Cooil’s piano repaired. One of
them promised that he would
come tomorrow. I bought a
frame for the nice picture that
Teeny sent me. One of the
things I’ve missed most has
been a typewriter, so I made a
deposit on a typewriter. However, they want 20 pounds for
it, which is a considerable
amount of money, and I’m
worried that I may have to
leave soon and wouldn’t be
able to take it with me. They
have given me two weeks to
make up my mind. I really
would like to have it, but I’ve
decided not to take it. Mrs.
Stevenson was on the bus on
the way back and we had a
nice talk. I told her about our
good fortune with respect to
living at Merton Croft. Now
that things are settling down, I
should be able to go see them
soon.
The watch list has been changed, and I have been to the hut and common room several times. That
way, I can keep up with the rumors and get to meet the new men. Hearing about some of the things in camp is
much better than having to experience them.
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By kind permission of Manx National Heritage
#119 -- A view loo king down Mill Street toward the Cosy Cinem a next to the end -When the above photo was taken, it had rained and water was standing in puddles in the
narrow street. The first door on the left is the entrance to Vernie Vanwell’s home at 10
Mill Street. Vernie also owned the home with the door adjacent to her’s. The next buil ding
is the Cosy Cinema. The last buil ding with the “Cinema” sign pointing to the Cosy Cinema
is located where Mill Street makes a turn to the right and e nters Malew St. We three CTC
men ate Sunday dinner at Vernie Vanwell’s home, and the noon meal at her re staurant,
Anne’s Supper Bar. We normally went to the flicks twice a week at the Cosy Ci nema.
Friday, Oct. 16, 1942 - Sgt. Ashley and the Technical Officer are both going on leave soon, and I
will be the senior man here. Somehow, I’ve got to do both jobs. I’ve gone through the paper work that they
must do, and the T.O. said that I would have to give a technical lecture every morning. I can’t believe he is
serious about that because he has given only a couple since he has been here. The T.O. also told me that he
wanted me to do some more work on the T1087 manual that I had prepared earlier. If I do all that was described to me, I will do Ashley’s work, the T.O.’s work, and a lot more besides. I wonder what I will do in
my spare time. Today, I got a stack of about 12 Montgomery Advertisers. I saw mention of several boys I
know who are now in the services. I found a few Christmas Cards in a store, and am trying to decide to whom
to send them. I heard that none would be printed this year.
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Saturday, Oct. 17, 1942 - A bunch of us went to Douglas on the bus after work. I invited Vera Bradford, who is one of the nicest girls in camp. Her family is from Cambridge. In the group going there were also
Jack, Johnny, Tich, Molly, Rose, and Terry. The party was in celebration of Johnny’s birthday. After we had
supper, we went to the Palais de Dance and had a good time. We came back on the 23:00 train. I think I enjoy
that old train more every time I ride it. It is reliving history. The 23:00 departure is a very good schedule, because it allows the RAF and WAAF folks to get back in camp before midnight. There is an automatic excuse
if the train is late. The T.O. is off taking a short course, and I’m doing his duties. George Ashley has gone on
leave and I’m in charge of the day shift among other things. Being in charge means that I don’t actually have
to do the maintenance work. Cpl. Moon and George Fulton are on the day shift, so I’m sure there will be no
problems. Cpl. Moon agreed to stay in camp while I was gone in case of trouble at the technical site.
Sunday, Oct. 18, 1942 - I saw some large Douglas U.S. Army Air Force planes at Ronaldsway today. The field is small, and I wonder how they were able to get in. They must have used every foot of the
runway. I got word today that it will be about a fortnight before the piano is fixed. Things go very slowly
here. This afternoon, it began to rain and blow.
Monday, Oct. 19, 1942 - Vera Bradford told me that in Cambridge, her hometown, the Americans
were not very well liked. She said that most of them were not courteous and were poorly behaved. Once,
when she was at home on leave, and at the cinema, a group of American soldiers wanted to join another group
located closer to the screen. They jumped and crawled over the seats in order to do it. She said she was
shocked by their behavior. I'm shocked to hear about it.
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# 5 7 - - K ey t o t h e t o we r p h ot o s . T h i s dr a wi n g , m a de i n 1 9 9 9, i d e n t i f i e s t h e l o c at i o ns
o f t h e f ac i l i t i e s a t t h e T e c h n i ca l S i t e . It a l s o i nd i ca t es t h e d i r e c t i o n s o f t h e f i ve
v i e w s ( " A " t hr o u g h " E " ) t a ke n f r om t h e t o p of R T o w e r - 1 , a nd s h o w n i n t h e f o l l o w i n g f i v e p h o t o s . (If viewing on the m onitor, zoom this m ap to 150% and scroll.)
George and I spent a good part of the day climbing about on the 240 foot receiving tower cleaning insulators. I could have had Cpl. Moon do it, but the day was a nice day for being on the tower, and I hate paper
work. The view was breath taking, and I took some photos from the top of the tower. Note: Until I saw the
tower photos, I didn't realize that I should not have taken them. I worried about it and decided to destroy
them. However, I'm glad now that I never got around to doing it. I don't remember seeing them again until
years after the war. End note.
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Photo by Jim Farrior
#58 -- Tower view "A" -- An ENE view from the top of receiving tower R Tower -1. Ca stletown is in the background. Langness and Castletown Bay are at the u pper right. In
the distance, in the center, is Ki ng William ’s College. The Watterson farm house co m plex is in the imm ediate foreground. The RAF dom estic cam p ("B Site") is b ehind the
325' transm itter curtain array support towers (T Array -2) at the left. The structure with
sloping sides at the right is a d umm y (decoy) transm itter building. The actual transm i tter building (T Bock- 2) is out of the photo to the left. Oct. 19, 1942.
Tuesday, Oct. 20, 1942 - We haven’t had much war news in the last fortnight. As far as the news is
concerned, the war seems to be at a standstill .I hear that Roy Thomas is coming back to Scarlett. Eileen and
Margie are being posted. Margie is a very nice girl. I took her to the flicks a few times. George is reading a
large book of the collected poems of Robert Service, a Canadian poet. I read a few of them, and they are very
good. It will not be long before I go on leave. I plan to wear my civilian clothes, so I must get my civilian
shoes repaired. The soles were thin when I joined the CTC.
Wednesday, Oct. 21, 1942 - There were no Christmas cards manufactured this year, so the ones left over
from last year are the only ones available. A few days ago, I found a few more, and will send some out very
soon. The T. O. has finished his course and has gone on leave. I will be pretty busy while both he and George
Ashley are both gone. I went to Ronaldsway and got my plane tickets. I leave for London on November 4th.
They don’t have a decent passenger facility at Ronaldsway. They don’t have a waiting room, and the place
where I got my ticket bore no resemblance to a ticket office. The runway obviously needs repair. According
to the radio, Mrs. Roosevelt is coming to England. I never liked her as she seems to me to be totally out of
touch with the real world, especially the culture of the Southern part of the U.S. Many will resent her. I can’t
imagine anything she could do that would be beneficial. Note: The plane ticket I bought cost £1/13/9, which
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was $6.84 in American money. In 1994, Peggy and I went by boat from Liverpool to Douglas, but returned
from Ronaldsway to London. Our tickets cost $109.00 each for the flight. The Ronaldsway airport in 1994
was very large and modern with a large terminal with numerous check-in counters. I also flew from
Ronaldsway to London in 1958, and the airport at that time was large and very busy. End note.
#59 -- Tower view "B" -- A SE view from the top of R Tower -1 showing R Tower -2. The
R towers were 240 feet high and m ade of wood. Oct. 19, 1942.
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#60 -- Tower view "C" -- A WNW view f rom the top of R Tower -1. Across the bay is
Port St. Mary, and beyond are Port Erin and Bradda Head. The Generator Block, ot herwise known as the Diesel Switch Block, i s below (out of the photo) and slightly to the
left of center. Oct. 19, 1942.
Thursday, Oct. 22, 1942 - This evening, Vera Bradford and I went to Douglas. We had tea and then
went to see "My Gal Sal", which was very good. It was in Technicolor. We came back on the bus and had
supper at Anne’s Supper Bar. Vera had to go to work at 23:00 hrs. I wish that Wing would make up their
mind about how much they are going to pay me. Time before last, it was £5/13/9. The next time it was
£3/13/9, and this time it is £4/15/-. Last night was a very black night, and one of the guards at the technical
site heard a noise and yelled, "Halt!” The noise continued, and he got trigger-happy and fired his rifle. It was
a sheep, which he missed. I heard that the guards now have a new order which reads: If it walks on four feet,
has wool, says "baaaaaaaa", it’s no enemy.
Friday, Oct. 23, 1942 - George received information at the orderly room that it would be about a month before we would get our £1/9/9 extra per week outside living allowance. He doesn’t know whether that means
we will not get it for this period, or payment will be delayed. I was hoping that I would get it before going on
leave on Nov. 4thh so I would not have to draw money from my Postal Savings account. Fortunately, I’ve
saved enough so that it really doesn’t make much difference. When I’m in London, I hope to talk to our
Commandant, Mr. Gill, about increasing the allotment that is sent home. I had rather save money at home
than to save it here and possibly be unable to take it out of the country when I leave. I believe that the small
amount that is being sent home now is the maximum amount that a single person can send.
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I’m anxious to make the trip to Liverpool by plane. Except for the short flight I had in the old "Bombay" aircraft at Cranwell, I haven’t flown any since I left Atlanta. I would have my private pilot’s license now
if it had not been for the bad weather we had the last week I was in Atlanta. I had taken my physical and had
completed all of my flight instructions, but had not been able to make the solo flight. My plane ticket (one
way to Speke Aerodrome in Liverpool) cost £1/13/9, which seems very reasonable. I have noticed that a lot of
things cost either 13/9 or a certain number of pounds plus 13/9. I can’t imagine why that is the case. In the
U.S., many things cost 99 cents, which makes it less than a dollar, but 13/9 doesn’t make sense to me.
Saturday, October 24, 1942 - Jack told George and me that he is going to marry the nice little
Scotch girl, Jessie Falconer, with whom he has been going. He said that it is a secret that they have been
keeping since Oct. 4th. I don’t know when it will take place. However, Jack’s bliss has been interrupted by
the fact that Jessie was recently posted to Cranwell to take a course, and I doubt that she will return here when
she has finished. Jack wants to take his leave soon so he can visit her. I wonder why she is going to Cranwell.
Most of the girls are posted to Yatesbury when they take courses, as there is a large operator’s school there.
Russia is still holding Stalingrad. For some time, Russia has been complaining that England should do something with Hess. I think it would help England’s relationship with Russia if we would shoot him, if such a
thing were possible. I’m sure that would have happened if he had gone to Russia. Mrs. Cooil has an excellent
picture of Castletown that was painted in 1850, and Castletown looks pretty much today as it looked then.
#61 -- View "D" -- An ESE view from the top of R Tower -1. Langness and Lan gness
Point can be seen di mly across Castletown Bay. The Guard Barracks and Coo khouse
site is in the foreground. R Tower -2 is just out of the field of view on the right side of
the photo. Oct. 19, 1942.
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#62 --Tower View "E" -- A WSW view from the top of R Tower -1 showing the cam o uflaged T Block-1 (the m ain transm itter block). It is between the shadows cast by t he two
325' T Array-1 towers, one of which is visible. The approx im ately 100' high tower i n
the foreground on the left side of the photo is probably an IFF t ower without the aer i als installed. Scarlett did not have IFF duri ng m y stay.
Sunday, Oct. 25, 1942 - Mrs. Cooil has been wonderful to us. She had us for tea this afternoon. She
had made some scones and meat pies, and it was very good. I worry that she is using up her food rations to
feed us. George and Margaret English, and Vera Bradford and I went to the Cosy tonight and saw Spencer
Tracy in "Fury". It was very good. After the flicks, we went to the British Legion and had a cup of coffee and
some cakes. Mrs. Stephens, the wife of "Doc" Stephens, our camp doctor, waited on us at the counter. It was
she who had told us about Mrs. Cooil, and if it had not been for Mrs. Stephens, George, Jack, and I would not
be at Merton Croft.
Monday, Oct. 26, 1942 - My clothing has not been completely dry for three days. It has drizzled continuously. It was a lucky day. I received a package from home today that contained 6 pairs of wool socks,
which have come just in time. My mother has really worked at sending me things that I need. His Majesty’s
socks wore out long ago, and I have not been successful in getting replacements issued to me. The CTC recruitment bulletin had said that our clothing would be furnished. The weather has turned rather cold, so I can
put the socks into immediate use. Other than this package, I haven’t received any mail lately.
Tuesday, Oct. 27, 1942 -A team from Wing has been here installing a new operating console in the
Main R Block, and it is now in operation. It will not improve the performance of the station, or reduce the
required personnel, but it really does look good. Flt. Sgt. Don Crocker surely is proud of his supervisor’s
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desk. He sits at a mahogany desk among a maze of switches and flashing lights. He sits there with a satisfied
grin on his face and monitors the lines to Preston and Cregneish. He was monitoring the Preston line yesterday and heard someone talking about him. Now he lets them know when he is listening. Sgt. Crocker has a
three-position switch on his console. The top position is marked "SPEAK", the middle is off, but unmarked,
and the bottom position is marked "MON", for monitor. George took a look at it and said it is obviously a
Scottish switch, as it says "Speak Mon". The piano man at Douglas has not returned the piano action. I would
really be in a pickle if the piano action disappeared. It scares me to think about it. George, Jack, and I found
ourselves all off at the same time for a change. Since it was a cold miserable evening we spent the time in our
warm, comfortable room having a long bull session about things in general. The gist of it is that all three of us
have been much happier since we moved to Merton Croft. What a shock it will be if we are posted!
Wednesday, Oct. 28, 1942 - I had a very nice day today. After having lunch at the Supper Bar, Vera
and I went through Castle Rushen. I can’t seem to get enough of going through the castle. I’ve also read some
of the castle’s interesting history. The weather was excellent, just like the day when I traveled from Liverpool
to Bournemouth after leaving the HMTS Andes over a year ago. After going through the castle, Vera and I
came to Merton Croft to visit Mrs. Cooil. Mrs. Cooil told us a few things about Castletown, and showed us
her beautiful backyard and garden. We then caught the bus and went to Douglas, where we had tea at "The
Cabin". Afterward, we went to see "Flying Fortress", which was a very good picture. We returned on the 9:00
PM bus and had supper at the Supper Bar. It was a very enjoyable day.
Thursday, Oct. 29, 1942 - George and I spent all day servicing and repairing the sense relays on the
240-foot receiving tower. They are sealed in a little metal box, but moisture gets inside and causes problems.
When the operator pushes a button at the operating position, the sense relays operate and connect together the
two halves of the half wave reflectors on the receiving beams. They then work as half wave reflectors and
allow the operator to resolve the 180 degree azimuth ambiguity that would otherwise exist. The wind is very
cold on the tower, and we had to wear our great coats, which made it difficult to climb the tower and to work.
A large boat ran aground last night in Port St. Mary Bay. It has a large barrage balloon over it, and a tug has
been trying to get it off the reef. We watched it from the tower as we worked. There is a lack of tools at this
station, and every time we have to do some repairs, we are handicapped by not having the proper tools. I like
assisting the Wing team because they bring their tool kits with them. Margaret English, George’s girl friend,
is being posted to Wylfa, Anglesey. She leaves on the boat tomorrow. The weather has been pretty clear the
past three days, so it is about time for it to turn off bad next Wednesday when I catch the plane
Friday, Oct. 30, 1942 - There is a nice show at the Cosy Cinema tonight. It was "The Foreman who
went to France" was showing, and Vera and I went together. I guess Vera enjoyed it more than I did as there
was a lot of French language in it, and she speaks French fluently. She has helped me with some of my problems in learning French. Once, she demonstrated her fluency when we were at a "Shaky do", and one of the
visitors was a French airman who is now in the RAF. They carried on a conversation in French. The show we
saw was about the invasion of France by Germany. Cpl. Stan Collier was there at the time, and managed to
get out four days after Dunkirk. George Fulton went to Douglas this morning to see Margaret off at the boat.
Saturday, Oct. 31, 1942 - Vera Bradford is posted. She is to report to Wing Headquarters in Liverpool on Monday. From there, she will be posted somewhere else. They will not tell her where. I really hate to
see her leave. She is a very nice girl, very civilized, and a lot of fun to be with. As I will not be working
Monday morning, I will be able to go with her to Douglas and see her off at the boat.
Sunday, Nov. 1, 1942 - There are two new Canadian mechanics here who were trained in Canada
and have been in England only three weeks. They said that there are some RDF stations in Canada now, and
that there had been some American army men in the school with them in Canada. It certainly would have
been a different story if there had been an operational CH and a CHL system at Hawaii when the Japs struck
Pearl Harbor. Jack told me that he and George had some fun doing some unofficial practice using the ACH
(aux). The CH and ACH can be operated at the same time. Jack said that he and George were for a while a
two man RDF station.
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#66 -- Vera Bradford -- The nicest
WAAF at RAF Scarlet t Point. This photo was taken in Mrs. C ooil's garden.
Oct. 28, 1942
Jack and George have had their girl
friends posted, and Vera will leave tomorrow.
There is a saying at this station among the
WAAFs that if you want to get posted, just go
with a CTC bloke for a while, and it is certain to
happen. I now believe it. It’s not nice to be part
of a curse.
Monday, Nov. 2, 1942 - I saw Vera off
at the boat this morning. I’m scheduled to fly to
Liverpool on Wednesday on my way to London,
where I will spend my leave. Vera told me she
would send me a wire from Liverpool tomorrow
telling me where she will be sent. I told her that if
it were not too far from London, I would pay her
a visit. When the lorry carrying us and her luggage arrived at the entrance to the docks in
Douglas, the Bobby waved the lorry through the
gate. He didn’t notice that we were sitting in the back. We said goodbye, and Vera boarded with the other
passengers. After she had boarded, I found that the lorry had left. I had neglected to tell the driver that I wanted to return to Castletown with him. A Bobby spotted me on the pier, and told me that I was not supposed to
be there without a ticket to board the boat. He wrote my name, organization, and address in his book. Shades
of Cranwell! I hope this is not another case like happened to me there when I received a summons to appear
in court for not displaying a taillight on my bike at night. I spent my first 21 years without ever speaking to a
policeman, but in the past year it seems that I have become a criminal. Stranded in Douglas, I had to catch the
bus back to Castletown.
Tuesday, Nov. 3, 1942 - I got a wire from Vera saying that she was being posted to Yatesbury, and
that she would write to me at the Eagle Club. Yatesbury is where the school that trains CH operators and filter
room operators, is located. She is probably being posted there as an instructor, as she is a very experienced
operator. I went to the Castletown train station and bought my train ticket from Liverpool to London so that I
will not have to bother with it when I arrive in Liverpool tomorrow. I heard that the Speke Aerodrome at Liverpool was fogged in this afternoon and the plane was late getting there. I hope it will be clear tomorrow so I
won’t miss my train connection. Jack and I have been kidding George about his plans to escape from the Island. He has been studying map reading and navigation, and tonight he asked if I would try to get a compass
for him when I’m in London. As a side-line activity, Mr. Cooil had operated a taxi in peacetime, and it is kept
in his garage. From time to time he takes it out for a drive, just to keep it in shape. He took it out today and
told me that in the morning he wanted to take me to the airport. I told him I’d be glad to pay for the trip, but
he said that he wouldn’t accept it.
Wednesday, Nov. 4, 1942 - The morning was nice, but cold, and Mr. Cooil and I enjoyed our short
ride to the Ronaldsway airstrip. He wanted to wait to see me off, but we discovered that the Speke Aerodrome
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was fogged in and the flight would be delayed. Someone at the airstrip told me that as long as the war has
been going on, the Isle of Man air service has missed only two days of passenger carrying service.
While waiting for the plane, I met a very nice man, Mr. Fenton, who works for Marconi Radio. When
I told him that I was a radio telegrapher, he took me to his house, which was near the airstrip and showed me
some of his equipment. He had a top-of-the-line HRO receiver with a complete set of plug-in coils. I couldn’t
wait to get my hands on it. I tuned in International Press Wireless and listened to some 35 w.p.m. code. It has
been over a year since I heard any high-speed code, and it sounded like music to my ears. After about an
hour, I tore myself away and went back to check on the airplane. At 4 PM, the flight was cancelled, and I returned to Castletown and sent a wire to the Eagle Club changing my arrival time to Nov. 5. I then went to the
Scarlett Camp and got a three-day extension to my leave. I certainly can’t complain about my treatment in
matters like this. Except for clothing issues, where I’ve had little luck, everything that I’ve asked for has been
immediately granted.
George and Jack had a rough job today. A wind last night blew down the vertical HF aerial that is
used with the T1087 W/T R/T transmitter that is located in the Main T Block. The aerial is fed by a buried
concentric cable that runs from the T-Block to the base of the aerial. The top of the aerial became unattached,
and the aerial collapsed. To fix it, they had to use lineman’s safety belt and spikes. I’m glad that didn’t happen on my watch.
A Vacation trip to London and elsewhere
Castletown, I.O.M., to Liverpool, and on to London, Thursday, Nov. 5, 1942 - Mr. Cooil insisted
that he take me again to the Ronaldsway Aerodrome, and this time his trip was not wasted. The plane arrived
on time, and took off at 1:25 PM with only about 5 passengers and a number of parcels. Shortly after we left
Ronaldsway, we entered a very dense fog. The plane had a radio operator, and his seat was at the front of the
port-side line of seats, just in front of mine. He was communicating with the Speke Aerodrome using Morse
code, but I couldn’t hear the signals. However, there was a mercury vapor tube in the power supply of his
transmitter that lit up whenever his key was down, so I was able to read what he was sending. He was clearly
requesting and receiving a course to fly, because he would as for and repeat back a bearing. I don’t know how
the plane was being tracked, but after a while we began to descend and broke through the fog enough to see
the sea, and a moment later the shore. At first sight, our altitude was less than a thousand feet. With only a
few minor corrections of course, the runway came into view and we landed at Speke Aerodrome at 2:15 PM.
I thought it was very scary, but I suppose that it was not unusual for them. Perhaps they have a CHL type system at Liverpool like the one at Douglas head.
The train did not leave Lime Street Station until 5:30 PM, so an attractive ATS officer, who had been
on the plane, and I went to a nearby snack bar and had something to eat. Since I was in civilian clothes, I had
no problem fraternizing with her. However, I couldn’t ride with her to London because she was traveling first
class and I had a third class ticket. On the train, I met a British Merchant Navy bloke whose ship had recently
been in Mobile, Alabama. He was Alec Long, 15 Cornwood Close, Finchley N2, London. He gave me a
package of American cigarettes. When he opened a bag to get the pack of cigarettes, there was a strong aroma
of oranges. It nearly ran me crazy. I would have gladly taken an orange instead of the cigarettes. The train
arrived at Euston Station at 10:30 PM, and I caught the underground to the American Eagle Club.
London, Friday, Nov. 6, 1942 - I met CTC Gains at breakfast. He came across on the Andes with
me. Later, I went to the Embassy and had my passport renewed with no problems. What a relief to get that
done! At the U.S. Army headquarters, I asked about the opportunities for someone with my experience, but
they had little information, and what they had didn’t look very interesting. The highest rank with whom I
could speak was a Sergeant. I met former CTC Louis Davis, with whom I had gone to school in Cranwell. He
is a very good technical man. Earlier he had joined the U. S. Army as a private and had been in Ireland on
maneuvers. He has been transferred to the Army Air Corps, and was posted to London today. Obviously, he
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had jumped too quickly when rumors were going around that the CTC would be disbanded. He had, and still
has, no idea what he will be doing in the future. He is too timid to represent himself effectively.
London, London to Calne, Saturday, Nov. 7, 1942 - I met CTC Ash, who is the Chief Sound Recorder for the British Ministry of Information films. He says that it is a fine assignment doing the same kind
of work that he did before he joined the CTC. He will be going to the States soon to record a scene. He had a
large 35 mm film canister under his arm and said that he was on his way to a meeting of bigwigs where he
would show a film he had recently completed. I received a letter from Vera Bradford about 1 PM today saying that she would be at the train station at Calne to meet me if I could go there. I caught the train at Paddington at 4:15 PM, and after changing in Chippenham, I arrived at Calne at 7:15. Vera, without knowing whether
I had received her letter, or could come, met me at the station. It was the first time she had seen me in civilian
clothing and almost didn’t recognize me. We spent some time looking for a room for me, and finally found
one at a small private hotel. It is a room that belongs to an airman who is away on leave. Vera and I then went
out and had supper at a nice dining place. We ate slowly and enjoyed talking about our days at Scarlett. I then
saw her off on a bus to Yatesbury, where she is posted on an operator/mechanics course. I hope she makes it
back to her station before her pass expires at midnight.
As tomorrow is Sunday, and Vera has the day off, she will return and we will go by train to Bath for
the day. It should be fun and interesting. My scantily furnished room has gaslights, no bath, and no heat. A
woman tapped on my door before bedtime and asked if I were ready to have my bed warmed with a warming
pan. I replied that it sounded very good to me, so she did it and the bed was quite warm when I got in. I could
be wrong, but I believe I’m sleeping on the airman’s used bed linens. This all seems like something from the
last century, but I enjoyed the experience.
Calne, Wilts., day trip to Bath, Sunday, Nov. 8, 1942 I was standing outside when Vera got off the
bus in front of the Landsdown Arms Hotel at 10.45 AM. We caught the 11:05 AM train to Chippenham,
where we would have to change trains, arriving there at 11:30. While waiting on the train to Bath, we stood in
a queue to get a cup of tea at a buffet. We arrived at Bath at 12:15, and had dinner at Hotel Christopher. It
was a high-class dining room, and the menu was good, considering the war. However, our meal was marred
by a drunken American soldier who came in and talked loudly and disgustingly about the menu, and things
British in general. He was not served, but was helped to the door by two rather strong looking men who assured him that he would go to jail if he didn’t leave immediately and quietly. I felt really embarrassed. This is
somewhat similar to the kind of behavior that Vera had told me about witnessing in Cambridge when she was
at home on leave. After dinner, we went through the Bath Abbey, which has miraculously escaped severe
damage. Many of the other churches have been badly damaged or leveled. We then visited the nearby Roman
Baths, which make use of thermal springs that come to the surface from deep in the earth. Much of the ancient stone work is still in place. We then walked around the town and stopped and rested for a while in a
beautiful park. At the train station, Vera called her folks in Cambridge and told them how she had spent the
day. The train left at 6:00 PM, and on the short ride to Chippenham where she would get off, we talked about
the many nice times we had had together on the Isle of Man, and what a pity it is that they couldn’t have continued. It was hard saying goodbye to Vera. She was a pretty, smart, cultured girl, with a wonderful personality, who was always fun to be with. We promised each other that we would stay in touch. When we said a sad
goodbye as she got off the train at Chippenham, I had a strong feeling that we would never see each other
again. The train arrived in London at 9:30 PM, and I went to the Eagle Club Dorm and was quite lucky to get
a bed this late on a weekend. Note: (2000): Vera and I corresponded for about a year, but we never met again.
End note.
London, Monday, Nov. 9, 1942 - I’m coming down with a bad cold and did very little today. Mostly
just walked around Trafalgar Square, which is quite near the Eagle Club, and visited some other nearby places. I stopped in the Eagle Club and there was nobody there that I knew. I bought some American cigarettes.
They sell us one pack for each day of leave that we have. They cost 6d per pack. The English cigarettes cost
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2s a pack, which is four times the cost. I’ve never been a heavy smoker, and typically smoke no more than 4
or 5 cigarettes per day, and often none at all, so these will last me a while.
London, Tuesday, Nov. 10, 1942 - At CTC headquarters, I was told that the CTC has no intention of
disbanding, and would exist as long as there were any members still desiring to remain. CTC headquarters
may feel that way, but I believe that the Air Ministry will shut the CTC down the moment it believes that the
CTC is no longer needed. At the Eagle Club, I met CTC Paul Hand, formerly posted at Bride, I.O.M. He is
presently posted at the Admiralty School of Signals. He, also, doesn’t believe the story that the CTC is telling
us, and is here to see about getting in the U.S. Army. I warned him to explore it carefully because those with
whom I have talked, and who received an enlisted rank, feel that they had made a very bad choice.
London, Wednesday, Nov. 11, 1942 - The weather is cold and foggy, and my cold is no better, so I
stayed around the Eagle Club all morning. It is Armistice Day, and there are many poppy salesmen on the
street. I went to see the King place a wreath on the Cenotaph on Whitehall, but there was a typical London
fog, and only those in the crowd who were quite close by could see him. I was rather close, but saw only a
shadow-like figure.
Staying at the Eagle Club are a number of Americans who are members of the RCAF, RAF, and
Polish Airforce. They are here to see about enlisting in the U.S. Army or Navy. Those who are officers are
getting offers of very good ratings. They have the same concerns that the CTC members have. They worry
that the future for them in their present organization may be very poor, compared to being in the American
forces. This afternoon, I saw a stage show entitled "No Orchids for Miss Blandish" at the Lyric Theatre near
Piccadilly Circus. It was very good, but the English actors’ imitations of American accents were downright
comical. When I came out of the theatre, it was so foggy that the busses had stopped. Visibility was not much
further than arms-length. People were walking slowly in the streets to keep from bumping into things like
lampposts. It took me nearly 30 minutes to find the underground entrance. All you could do is to ask the
ghost-like forms beside you where you are. Most were not sure. Someone could easily kill you, rob you, or
both, and nobody would see it. But this is England, where people don’t have to fear that kind of thing. When I
came out at South Kensington, it took me nearly an hour to find the Eagle Club Dorm. Everybody was lost. I
bumped into some Londoners who thought they were near Albert Hall, which I knew had to be blocks away.
Thursday, Nov. 12, 1942 - CTC Floyd Harkcom, also formerly posted at Bride, I.O.M., is here. He
said that he has been posted to the Admiralty School of Signals near Portsmouth, in spite of having rejected
that posting when previously offered. He is so disgusted that he has stopped here in London and has told CTC
headquarters that he is not going any further. I can’t imagine what he has in mind. There are many possibilities, but I don’t think that any that I know of would equal what he had at Bride. Perhaps they will send him
back to Bride if he makes a good case. CTC Louis Fishoff, who was our supervisor in Montreal, is here. He
believes that the CTC will be disbanded, but doesn’t think it will happen real soon. I believe a lot of CTC
members are still doing needed work. Also, if they should close the CTC now, there would be several hundred CTC men that the Air Ministry would have to send back to the U.S. At the Eagle Club today, they were
making one of the regular weekly broadcasts entitled "Talk to Home".
Friday, Nov. 13, 1942 - It’s Friday the 13th, but the worse thing that happened to me is that I had to
stay in all day because of my bad cold. I spent the day reading about London. I probably learned more than I
would have if I had been out walking aimlessly around in the miserable weather. When I saw the stage production "No Orchids for Miss Blandish" on Wednesday, I saw several actors who are very popular in English
motion pictures. Dean Compton is very good. I saw him in "Hatter’s Castle", which was a very good motion
picture. Linden Travers is also very good. I think I’m more able now to appreciate British humor.
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#111 -- Jim Farrior in civilian clothes at Trafalgar Square on a typical dam p, cold, and
a not too foggy day. The church in the background is the well - known 800+ year -old St.
Martin in the Fields. Floyd Harkcom took the photo with m y ca mera. Nov. 16, 1942.
Saturday, Nov. 14, 1942 - My cold and the fog are both very bad, so I decided to stay in again. At
the Eagle Club Dorm, the front door opens directly into the large entry hall from the street. Whenever anybody enters the front door, the fog comes swirling into the hall. The terrible things I have heard about London
fogs are really an understatement.
Sunday, Nov. 15, 1942 - Floyd Harkcom is going to have to tell the CTC something tomorrow, or he
will be AWOL, to use a military term. He is supposed to report to his post tomorrow. I feel sorry for Floyd.
As far as I know, he is a good man and a good CH mechanic. However, he feels that he is being treated unfairly, and doesn’t have enough information to allow him to decide what to do. The only thing that keeps me
from being in the same situation is that I still have a good posting at Scarlett. However, that could change at
any moment. Today, Floyd Harkcom and I made a long visit to Westminster Abbey. It has to be the most interesting place I have ever been, and I enjoyed it tremendously. We also went to the museum of Natural History. Later, we went to Albert Hall and heard the Royal London Philharmonic Orchestra. The tickets to the
symphony cost 6s each, and the Eagle Club gave them to us. They are very good about arranging for free entertainment. A few CTC men are posted here in London. They must have a very interesting life.
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Monday, Nov. 16, 1942 - My leave is up tomorrow, so I caught the train from Euston at 10:55 PM. I
plan to get off the train at Blackpool, which is a short distance from Fleetwood, where the boat will leave. I’m
in civilian clothes, and when I keep my mouth shut, I’m not recognized as an American. That has let me listen
to a few interesting conversations regarding the American soldiers that are becoming so numerous here. Most
of the people have heard stories that the American soldier’s pay is very high. However, it is not as high as
they imagine, and the cost of living in the U.S. is higher. Also, most soldiers have dependants at home. Taking that into account, the difference is not nearly as much as they suspect. The British people are often offended by the manners of the average American soldier. They indeed have a good point there because, in general, the British behave in a more civilized manner than the Americans. However, much of it is due to different customs, and often the manners are not worse, they are simply different.
Tuesday, Nov. 17, 1942 - I got off the train at Blackpool at 5:30 AM after riding all night. At an all
night restaurant, I was able to get a piece of pie and a cup of tea. They called it a pie, but it wasn’t fruit, and it
wasn’t sweet. After that, I went to the Y.M.C.A., where I washed up. There were some comfortable chairs
there, so I sat down and dozed until about train time. I caught the train at 10:05 AM and arrived at Fleetwood
at 10:35 AM. After getting my embarkation papers validated, I caught the boat at 1:00 PM. It was a smooth
crossing. In Douglas, I ran into Ian Wright and George Fulton, and we went to see "This Above All" at the
Picture House. As usual when returning to the Isle of Man, I was really glad to get back!
Wednesday, Nov. 18, 1942 - Mrs. Cooil’s piano is now fixed! The delay had caused me to worry that
something had happened to it. It works and sounds fine, so I will be able to begin practicing. Hopefully I will
be able to begin taking lessons again soon. Mrs. Cooil seems to appreciate my having it fixed. I went to
Douglas as a member of the rifle team to compete against Bride and Andreas, but due to a mix-up, the men at
the rifle range said they didn’t know we were coming. The teams returned home without firing a shot. Tonight, I saw "How Green is my Valley" through the smoky haze at the Cosy. It was very good.
Thursday, Nov. 19, 1942 - I guess it is about time for me to do some work. It seems like I’ve been
on a long vacation. I was told that my name has been forwarded for promotion to Foreman of Trades, but I
doubt that it will go through, as I have learned that 60 Group has forbidden 77 Wing to approve any promotions above the rank of Chargehand, which I now hold. Anxious to get back to work, I went out to do the day
duties, but found that I had been put on watch and had to go on duty at 6 PM and stay on all night. That suits
me fine.
Friday, Nov. 20, 1942 - I haven’t worked but a few hours in a long time, but now have the day off. It
doesn’t make sense. In an effort to get rid of my cold, I stayed in all day. I read and studied some, and also
practiced on the piano, which really sounds good now. The piano sounds good, not my playing.
Saturday, Nov. 21, 1942 - Here we go again! I can’t believe it. I’m definitely a member of "Churchill’s Traveling Circus". The orderly room informed me that Jack, George, and I are ordered to report to Wing
headquarters. I can’t imagine why. All CTC in the Wing are being called in. I hope that it does not mean a
posting, as I’m well satisfied here. Since we are going to Wing, and not to CTC headquarters in London, I
don’t think it is something like the disbandment of the CTC. We shall see. Vernie says that she is going to
prepare us a good Thanksgiving dinner Thursday, if we are back. She can’t get a turkey, but will get a duck or
a goose. Whatever it is, I know it will be good. I’m really enjoying practicing on my own piano.
Sunday, Nov. 22, 1942 - I worked from 0800 to 1300. I didn’t have to pull the night shift because
I’m leaving in the morning. Because my name is up for promotion to Foreman of Trades, I think it could be
for an interview concerning that. Jack and George are up for promotion to Chargehand. It has been a long
time since I have heard from Teeny. I really enjoy her letters, but they tell mostly about her Hayneville High
School friends, most of whom I don’t know. Probably nothing is happening in Letohatchie to write about.
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Another trip to Wing Headquarters in Liverpool for an interview
I.O.M. to Liverpool, England, Monday, Nov. 23, 1942 - When we got to the dock in Douglas,
Floyd Harkcom and Hal Wright were there. I was surprised and glad to see Floyd. He said that his posting to
the Admiralty School of Signals in Portsmouth had been cancelled at his request, and he had been sent back
to Bride. He seemed happy with that, but is concerned now. The crossing on the Snaefell was quite pleasant,
as the surface of the Irish Sea was almost like a pond. For an extra 4s, we went into the first class lounge. It is
very much nicer there and is very much like a good quality pub, with comfortable seats, tables, and the bar.
They even had some packages of crisps, which are called potato chips in the U.S. Potato chips here are called
French fries in the U.S. We ate some snacks on board and arrived in Fleetwood an hour before train time.
#63 -- George Fulton, shown
catching a nap on t he train b etween Preston and Live rpool. -Nov 23, 1942
The train arrived in Liverpool
about 5:30 PM. As usual, we went to the
transient military dorm (old School for the
Blind) on Hardman St. The proper name
for that place is “Hardman Street P.T.C.”
After being assigned a bed, we went to the
Palais de Luxe and saw "Holiday Inn". Imagine my surprise when the usher sat me
down beside my friends Harry Cook and
Noel Cragin from Rhuddlan, Wales! I
didn’t recognize them until my eyes became accustomed to the dark. Of all of the
places in the very large city of Liverpool
where I could have been at that moment, I
was seated next to them. I had not seen
them for months.
Liverpool, England, Tuesday,
Nov. 24, 1942- All of the CTC from 77
Wing were here for the interview. Squadron Leader Bray briefly interviewed us
individually. He did not disclose the purpose of the interview, and I didn’t have the nerve to ask him. I figured he would have told me if he had wanted me to know. As soon as George, Jack, and I had been interviewed, we caught the bus back down town to
Hardman St. and checked in. George and I went to the Forum and saw the Civil War movie "Gone with the
Wind", which I have seen several times. I always enjoy it because it is about the South during the Civil War.
Part of the story occurred in Atlanta, Georgia, where I worked before I joined the CTC. My paternal grandfather, whose name was the same as mine, was a Confederate soldier. I’m the third James Spurlock Farrior.
Note: My maternal great-great uncle, James H. Thompson, was killed in the Civil War Battle of Atlanta. He
had taken his black servant to the battlefield with him, and when he was killed the servant buried him on the
battlefield and returned to Tuskegee, Alabama, bringing my uncle’s Bible and pocket watch. End Note
In front of all the booking offices at the train station, there is a sign reading, "Is your journey really
necessary?" The answer is an emphatic “NO!”, but there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. They
should post a similar sign at 77 Wing Headquarters and also at CTC headquarters.
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Liverpool to I.O.M., Wednesday, Nov. 25, 1942 - The train was not quite as crowded as usual,
which made the journey to Fleetwood seem about half as long. As before, we had our tickets upgraded and
rode first class in the "Rushen Castle". The crossing was not bad, and we arrived in Douglas at 4:00 PM.
Floyd Harkcom is going to spend the night at Scarlett, and he and Jack caught the train back to Castletown.
George and I had supper, and then went to see a film entitled "Bedtime Story", which was quite good. We
caught the late bus back to Castletown.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Thursday, Nov. 26 1942 - Today is Thanksgiving Day, and
Vernie fixed us a nice dinner as she had promised. She really worked hard to get everything together, and to
prepare the meal. The cost was 5s each, which was most reasonable. Most people in the British Isles probably
have not had such a meal since the war began. The meal consisted of roast duck, baked potatoes, green peas,
applesauce and mince pie. Floyd Harkcom had dinner with us. He had to catch the 2:30 PM bus, as he must
get back to Bride tonight. Thanksgiving is strictly an American event, and the U.S. Army in England is observing it by a special meal in their mess halls. We had previously learned that Westminster Abbey would be
made available to the American Forces for Thanksgiving services, and an American serviceman would play
the famous organ. Tonight, I saw Dorothy Lamour in "Beyond the Blue Horizon" at the Cosy.
Friday, Nov. 27, 1942 - I have wanted a bike ever since I have been on the Isle of Man, but I always
believed that I wouldn’t be here long enough to make it reasonable to buy one. If I had brought my bike from
Cranwell, I would have enjoyed the use of a bike all of the time that I’ve been here. When I came out of the
Supper Bar today just after noon, I went across the street to Denis Eaton’s small Cycle Shop at 6 Arbory St.
to have a wishful look, as I had often done before.
#147 -- The invoice for my new bike
This time, Mr. Eaton had just received a new "New
Hudson" bike that has coaster brakes. Coaster brakes are
standard in the U.S. but are not common in England. It was a
beauty and a very good price, and I simply had to have it. The
rear light, the headlamp, and the required mask for the headlamp brought the price to £10/7/8. Mr. Eaton gave me a discount of 2/8 for paying cash, which made the price £10/5/-.
He told me, "If you don’t like it, you can bring it me back". I
love that quaint word order. I was a very happy man when I
proudly rode my new bike home to Merton Croft. Some long
walks will now be short rides, and I’m sure I will now go to
places that I have considered too far to walk. Mr. Cooil suggested that I keep it in his garage where he keeps his taxi. He
is a very kind man.
The war news has been very good of late, and we are
advancing in Africa, Russia, and the Pacific Islands. I have
hopes that the war will not last another year. I received a nice
letter from Vera. She likes her course, but wishes she were
back on the Isle of Man. So do I. I wrote a letter to Mother
tonight, and also one to Teeny telling her that I will send her
some more sheet music before long. I have enjoyed picking them out, and she says that she enjoys playing
them. Most of the songs I’ve sent are also popular in the U.S.
Saturday, Nov. 28, 1942 - I tried all over town to get a key made for Mr. Cooil’s garage, but no luck.
I bought a file and made one using an old key that Mr. Cooil gave me. I really like the bike. It is a real pleasure to ride it to Scarlett along the beach road. If I hadn’t been so stingy, I could have had it all along.
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When I’m on watches instead of day duties, I can sleep on the technical site two out of four nights.
There is seldom any work to do at night. Although that’s not very good sleeping, it gives me much more time
to do things that I want to do. Today, the town was trying to get a "mile of pennies" for the Red Cross. They
were putting them down on the curb along Arbory Street. I believe they got about half a mile, and that’s a lot
of pennies, especially considering the lack of money in most Castletown families. I still enjoy stopping at the
Watterson farm when I can for a glass of warm milk. I get to exchange a few words with Mr. Watterson while
I’m drinking it.
Sunday, Nov. 29, 1942 - The war news is still good. The French have scuttled their navy at Toulon.
Perhaps the war with Germany will be over before another year is out. We are advancing on all fronts. The
Cooils treat us like we were family, and tonight, they had us for supper. It was a real good supper for a wartime menu. I’m sure she worked very hard preparing it. She does her baking in a small oven that is mounted
in her fireplace and is heated by the fire. Jack is going on leave in Scotland on Monday. Jessie is home on
leave with her family, and Jack will visit with them. Jack is being real quiet about his plans, but I would not
be surprised if he and Jessie get married while he is there. He is going to the Falkirk area, which is presently
restricted because of smallpox, and he had to be re-vaccinated. He had wanted to fly to Speke Aerodrome
today, but there was no flight. He has decided to take Monday’s boat. There was a party at the camp tonight,
but I only stopped in to say hello to my friends. Compared to my tenure at Scarlett, nearly all of them are
newcomers. How time flies! I have been in the CTC for over fourteen months.
Monday, Nov. 30, 1942 - Trevor Moon (NZAF) is rebuilding a junk radio and is having the same
problem that I had. He hasn’t been able to find the proper valves for it – not even any used ones. Jack got off
on the boat today. I will go on day duty on Wednesday. I have been practicing about an hour a day on the piano, but progress is very slow. I can’t seem to get much beyond "Golden Slumbers", a very simple child’s
piece, and I’m tired of playing it. I’m also practicing scales and arpeggios for keys in addition to "C". It is
both frustrating and relaxing at the same time. "The Voice of Alabama" is working pretty well, but there are
some changes I could make that would improve it considerably. I have the parts required, except for the
valve. I still haven’t done anything about getting a license to operate my radio. It seems so silly. For such a
crime, I should be put in the Castletown Gaol, there to rot in solitary confinement without a radio.
Merton Croft, (Douglas, Laxey, Ramsey) I.O.M., Tuesday, Dec. 1, 1942 - Today George and I had
the day off. It was a nice, clear day, so we decided to do some sightseeing. We caught the bus from Castletown to Douglas, and from there to the picturesque town of Laxey. At Laxey, we went to see the 72½-foot
diameter over-shot waterwheel that was used to pump water from the deep lead mines. It was put into service
in 1854, and the mines were closed in 1929. When running, the wheel develops up to 185 h.p. The wheel itself, the structure that supports it, and the hydraulic and mechanical design are exceedingly well engineered
and constructed. The front of the stone structure that supports the wheel’s axle faces down hill and is decorated by a huge three-legged Manx emblem. We were the only people there, and we had some fun figuring out
how it all operated. Although the wheel and its associated structure and devices seem to be sound, they are
badly in need of maintenance. Obviously, it has not run in a very long time. Small trees have grown up close
to the structure. However, that seems to emphasize the fact that the wheel is something from the past. It was
exiting for us to be there alone with that amazing old relic of by-gone day. Although it is impossible to catch
that mood in a photo, I hope the photos that I took turn out like they looked in the viewfinder. From Laxey we
went to Ramsey, which is in a very scenic area. The town itself is very interesting, and we found a little café
and had tea there before catching the bus back to Douglas. At Douglas, we saw Bob Hope in "My Favorite
Blonde". I have liked every Bob Hope movie that I’ve seen, and this one was especially good. We returned to
Castletown and had supper at Anne’s Supper Bar (Vernie’s). It was a very interesting day, and I hope we
have many more like it. There are many interesting things to be seen on this quaint little Island.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Wednesday, Dec. 2, 1942 - The war news is still good. The
U.S. has sunk a number of Japanese ships in the Pacific, and the Russians are still advancing.
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Thursday, Dec. 3, 1942 - I received a letter from Capt. W. Stanworth, Royal Signals, who is in
charge of the North Western Division of the Radio Security Service. Mr. Fenton had informed him that I
might be able to help them in some volunteer work of national importance (his words). According to Mr. Fenton, it would be working a shift at Mr. Fenton’s home using his receiver to monitor certain radio frequencies
and copying down all of the Morse signals heard. Mr. Fenton says that the copied material from many listening posts is sent in for analysis at a central location. I told them that I might be able to help, but I don’t think I
would be very reliable help because of the way my shifts change.
Friday, Dec. 4, 1942 - I received the speed telegraph key (bug) from home that I sent for some
months ago. It is a Speed-X, which is a good one. It was not damaged, but the box that contained it was almost completely destroyed. It is amazing that it came through at all. I don’t have an actual requirement for the
bug, but I want to practice in order to retain the skill. It could come in handy at a later time, even if only on
the amateur radio bands, I understand that the Island now has a restriction on beef. We didn’t get much beef
anyway. Vernie says that she will still be able to get enough mutton, rabbit, and pork. I’ve learned not to have
much faith in what I hear about food rationing on the I.O.M., especially when it concerns foods produced on
the Island. There is a tremendous difference between the food at the camp and what Vernie provides. She can
probably get just about anything that she wants, when she considers it worth the effort.
Photo by Jim Farrior
#67 -- The Great Waterwheel at Laxey, I.O.M. -- Dec. 1, 1942
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Saturday, Dec. 5, 1942 - I plan to rebuild "The Voice of Alabama". When I was given the old scrap
radio in London, I had intended to restore it to its original configuration, but couldn’t find the necessary
valves and other parts. To bring it back to life, I used the radio frequency stage but bypassed the mixer and IF
stages. The amplified radio frequency signal goes directly to the detector. Following the detector is an audio
amplifier stage, and then the audio power output stage that drives the speaker. Although it works well enough
to be used, it has poor sensitivity and selectivity, and just barely enough volume. I’ve drawn a diagram and
made a parts lists, and will try to get what I need the next time I go to Douglas. It would be nice to have a better radio for our room. A letter from Fred Nash indicates that he likes his job with Wing. He travels from station to station installing some kind of new equipment. Fred was a good man and a good friend. I miss him.
Sunday, Dec. 6, 1942 - The Wing Maintenance party has arrived for the quarterly "sabotage". My
friends, Jeff Howes, Jock Lamont, Tich Ferrer, and Bernard Hope are among them. Mrs. Cooil has a small
garden and orchard behind their garage. One of the trees is an apple tree. When the apples are picked, she
spreads them on a table in a cool third floor room, where they seem to keep pretty well. However, they are
essentially gone now. From time to time Mrs. Cooil has baked an apple pie for us. She said that she would
have baked more of them, but she gets only a small sugar ration. I’m sure that she has been cutting way back
on her own sugar usage, and perhaps begging sugar from friends, so that we can have the pies. George and I
had to work this evening, and when we came home, we found an apple pie in our room. Vernie fixed us a
good dinner today. She has told us some interesting stories about the time she spent as the cook on a large
ocean-going private yacht. The boat visited several ports in the U.S. She told us that after the war she wants
to go to the United States and open a clothing store. Whatever Vernie does, she will be successful, because
she is very smart and works harder than anyone else I know.
Monday, Dec. 7, 1942 - December the seventh. Roosevelt called it, "The day that will live in infamy." The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor happened a year ago today. We started out very poorly prepared,
but we can expect much more action from now on. In addition to equipping our own forces, we are supplying
a large part of the military equipment used by Britain and Russia. I understand the British are still marginally
equipped. Newsreel movies of the landings in North Africa showed the British troops pushing bicycles off the
invasion barges. The American troops came off in lorries and Jeeps. Note (2003): A few years ago on Dec.
7th, I saw on TV a reporter interviewing Japanese students of high school age. They were not aware of the
significance of Dec. 7th, and had been taught little about WW-II. One of them said that the only thing he
knew was that it was a war that started when the U.S. attacked Japan. So much for "the day that will live in
infamy". End note. Some of the higher up officials have decided that fewer RAF men would be required to
man the CH stations if the WAAFs were taught how to do maintenance work. That is probably why Vera will
study both operating and maintenance in her course. We have two WAAF operators here now who have completed the WAAF maintenance school. George and I have been asked to give them some practical experience
in doing the maintenance tests. Gosh! What a job! They don’t seem to have any idea about anything technical,
nor do they seem to be interested in learning. Even if this crazy idea would work, it will not work the way it is
being handled. They don’t like the technical work, and Don Crocker badly needs more operators. As long as
it is up to him, he is not likely to send them to us often enough to provide them with any experience. Without
experience, what they learned in school will soon be forgotten. To put it in poetry:
Who Would've Thought
(by an unknown CTC poet)
Who would've thought a year ago
That I’d be paid in English dough
For teaching WAAFs the ABCs
Of current, volts, and resistances.
Tuesday, Dec. 8, 1942 - Jack Boor has returned from Scotland, where he has been getting acquainted
with Jessie’s family. Jack says that he had a great time, and enjoyed being with Jessie. He hasn’t mentioned
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when he expects the marriage to take place. He did say that he would do what he could to have Jessie posted
here. That will be quite an accomplishment if he can pull it off! Jack thinks that a compassionate posting
might be possible if he could find a WAAF here who would be willing to swap postings with Jessie. What
WAAF would be stupid enough to give up a Scarlett posting?
Wednesday, Dec. 9, 1942 - With a large Wing maintenance team here, George and I have little opportunity to do any maintenance. My good friend Jeff said that if anything happened, the team would take
care of it, and suggested that we take the day off. That kindness was very much appreciated. Because I needed
a valve and some parts for the improved version of my radio, and had already tried before to find them in
Douglas, we didn’t stay in Douglas but continued on to Peel. The first thing we did was to go through Peel
Castle, which is located on St. Patrick’s Isle at the entrance to Peel Harbour. Unlike in ancient times, the Island is now connected to the mainland by a causeway. A caretaker, who served as a guide, sold us an interesting little booklet. He told us many fascinating things about the early days when Peel played a most important
political, military, and religious part in Manx history. The King of Man once resided here. There is a stone
wall that rings the little Isle, and inside the wall are some very interesting and impressive ruins representing a
wide range of time and cultures. The oldest structure is perhaps the 10th century tower, and the most impressive is the Gothic Cathedral, which has long been in ruins. Beneath the Cathedral is a vaulted room, which
must have originally been a crypt, but was identified as a place where prisoners were kept. We decided that
we would have to return soon and spend more time in this interesting place
What luck! We found a radio repair shop in Peel that had the parts I needed, including a used valve
that tested good. On the way back to Douglas, we got off the bus at Tynwald, located at St. John’s, which has
been important in Manx government, and history, for more than a thousand years. There is an artificial hill,
said to have been built from earth brought from different parts of the Island. I’ve read that there is an open
ceremony, called Tynwald Court, that is held each year on the mound, and any laws approved by the House
of Keys must be read in the Manx Language for all to hear before they can take effect. I suppose the people
have the right to reject any law not meeting with their approval. There is also an interesting old church located on the site. There was nobody around to explain anything to us, so I intend to read more about it and come
back again. Back in Douglas, we saw the film "Jungle Book". We also made a deposit on some fine Manx
Wool blankets, which we are buying as Christmas presents for Mrs. Cooil and Vernie.
Thursday, Dec. 10, 1942 - Sgt. Don Crocker), the supervisor of Operations and also a W/T operator,
is away, and Dick Haslam, the official W/T operator is on leave, so I worked the W/T schedule. I thought of
using my new speed key (bug) just for fun, but it is rather frustrating to send at slow speed on a bug. The war
seems to be at a standstill in Africa at the present time. The Russians are advancing slowly.
Friday, Dec. 11, 1942 - The maintenance party will soon be through working on the CH Main, and
will begin working on the ACH Standby. Bernard Hope has been going over the 1087, but I had already done
the modifications he came to do. I cashed my paycheck today, and have a few more pounds that I need. If I
can get approval I will send 10 pounds out of the country because I will need it for college after the war. A
request has already been submitted to the money controller’s office in London, but I don't have much hope
that it will be approved.
Saturday, Dec. 12, 1942 - I got some mail today for the first time in a long time. It always seems to
come in bunches. I received letters from Mother, Jimmy Coleman, Teeny, and Vera, and a Christmas card
from Margaret and Bill Boyd. In the letter from Mother, she said that she would send the speed key in a few
days. The speed key got here before the letter. Jimmy Coleman writes that Guy is in the Navy and is running
between Key West and Cuba. Jimmy now has a job at Gunter Field. Teeny sent a newsy letter, but it was
mostly about high school activities. I’m glad to hear that her folks are doing fine. Vera says that she is enjoying the school, but wishes she were back on the I.O.M. So do I. She has put in a request to be posted back
here when she finishes the school she is attending. That would be nice if it happens, but I doubt that it will.
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Sunday, Dec. 13, 1942 - The Technical Officer is back. Things went smoothly while he was gone. I
expect I'll go back on watches before long, so that some of the new mechanics can have some experience on
day duty. A few of them have already followed me around during my day watches. None of us has heard anything about our promotions, which were approved some time ago. George and I walked through a cold gale
wind to Scarlett Rocks to watch the waves, which were crashing against the rocks with a thunderous sound
and throwing spray nearly 100 feet into the air. The wind must have been blowing about 40 MPH. It was a
spectacular, exciting show!
Monday, Dec. 14, 1942 - Tonight I went to see "The Ghost of Frankenstein" with Lon Chaney, Jr. It
was quite good, but not as good as was expected. The war in Africa doesn’t seem to be going well now. I
hope we will not have another of those reverses that we have had in Africa. I got two letters from Mother today. She says that Jack Whitley was rescued from the sea when his aircraft carrier was sunk in the Pacific. It
is cold, and the wind is still blowing hard. This is the same kind of weather we had last winter. "The Voice of
Alabama" announced that the King is 47 today. Long live the King!
Tuesday, Dec. 15, 1942 - Harold Wright called me from Bride today, and he advised me not to consider a transfer to the Admiralty School of Signals at this time as there is some kind of reorientation and
shakeup going on there now. I have heard from some others that went with the Admiralty School of Signals
that it was not a good posting, and have no desire to go there. It would be a pity to be put on watches and not
able to eat Christmas dinner at Vernie’s. She told us that she is planning a very special meal for us. With the
Wing team swarming over the equipment, I haven’t had much to do. There have been a few interesting things
being done by the Wing team where I can help, but mainly I’m rather bored. There are always plenty of
things to do right after the maintenance team leaves.
Wednesday, Dec. 16, 1942 - "The Voice of Alabama" is out of service now. It is partially disassembled while I make the modifications. Hopefully, it will be back in operation soon with improved performance.
The work must be done at the technical site where I will have a soldering iron, hand tools, and test instruments. This kind of work is fun! The weather is awful. We are issued with rain capes, but they are almost totally unsatisfactory. Someone told me they are actually "ground sheets". One can’t work in it, or walk in the
wind. Consequently, I often get wet. I wish I could buy a raincoat. I certainly can’t say I’m mistreated here.
Except for clothing issues, I seem to get everything I request. At my request, I will go on watch immediately,
and will return to day duties on Dec. 24. When on day duties, I only have to be on call on Christmas. There is
little chance that I will miss the Christmas dinner. I tried to ride my bike today, but the wind was too hard.
Thursday, Dec. 17, 1942 - I sent a Christmas package of 100 cigarettes to Vera today. A couple of
packs were American cigarettes that I got when I was in London. By now she will have left Yatesbury for a
new post, so I sent them to her home in Cambridge. Like me, she is a light smoker, so they will last her at
least a month. The schedule that was released today shows me working from 0900 hrs until 2300 hrs on
Christmas day. That really means on call. I talked to George Ashley about it, and he said not to worry about
it, as he would take care of any problem that might arise. That’s what I call a real friend. He knows that he
can depend on me to reciprocate. Vernie told us that she expects to have a turkey for us on Christmas! She
must have scoured the Island to find a turkey. I haven't even seen one of those birds here.
Friday, Dec. 18, 1942 - Surprise! I received an approval to send 10 pounds out of the country, so I’ll
go to the post office and take care of that very soon before the rules change. George got a letter from CTC
Headquarters in London saying that his promotion has gone through. A Christmas parcel from home arrived
today. It contained a pair of gloves and a scarf. I can really use them.
Saturday, Dec. 19, 1942 - Sgt. Tug Wilson, Jack Boor, Dick Haslam, and I went to Douglas and saw
the picture "Cross Roads". We had tea at Felices. I bought some sheet music to send to Teeny. Sheet music
here is quite expensive, and those I selected cost a total of 18 shillings. They are the ones most popular here
now.
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Popular Sheet Music I’ve seen in the shops:
Moonlight Cocktails
Miss You
I’ll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time
The Anniversary Waltz
Jingle, Jangle, Jingle
Oh, the Pity of it All
A Touch of Texas
By Candle Light
There Will Always Be an England
Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree
Be Careful, It’s My Heart
How About You
My Devotion
Question and Answer
Moonlight Becomes You
Jealousy
After cooking all week at the Supper Bar, Vernie cooks for us on Sunday. She certainly is making
very little money by doing it, and I believe she just genuinely wants to do it for us. She is an angel. The T.O.
(O’Brien) contacted me and said that I would not have to work on Christmas. I thanked him profusely. That
was very nice of him to call me, but I believe he was just repeating what George Ashley had told him (and
me). Now I’m doubly certain that I will be able to have supper with the Cooil’s. She, too, has told us that she
is planning something special for us. We found another apple pie in our room this evening.
Monday, Dec. 21, 1942 - I completed wiring the new "Voice of Alabama" today, and got it working
pretty well. It still needs to be aligned better, which will not take long. It is already much better than it was. I
sent Christmas telegrams to Mother, Mamère, and Teeny today. It cost me nearly two pounds. I hope they get
there. In Britain, the day after Christmas is called St. Stephen’s Day, or "Boxing Day", and is celebrated almost as much as Christmas. I have asked a few people why it is celebrated, but none of them could tell me.
Tuesday, Dec. 22, 1942 - I have been practicing regularly on the piano, but I can’t see a great deal of
progress. I haven’t had any lessons recently. I’ve learned to read the music for simple pieces, but can’t seem
to find the keys quickly enough to play them. That will come only with more practice. There is an American
Technical Officer at Cregneish. I would like to meet him. It is understandable why the U.S. would send an
officer for training at a CHL station like Cregneish. That type of station would be valuable in many different
war theaters. Such a station can be installed quickly, and even made portable. On the other hand, the CH station is a rather permanent facility requiring a considerable amount of time to build. It is a mystery to me why
they send American officers to receive training at a CH station. I can’t believe that they are being trained to
man CH stations in Britain. But where else could CH stations be useful? A recently arrived Canadian mechanic who received his training in Canada, rather than at Cranwell, told me that to his knowledge there is at
least one CH station in Canada. Any CH stations that exist in Canada must be for training. Since I’ve never
seen a Canadian WAAF operator, I don’t suppose there are any Canadian WAAFs being trained in Canada
for use in Britain. Most of our experienced Canadian mechanics were trained at Cranwell.
Wednesday, Dec. 23, 1942 - Usually, when on night watch I can get some sleep. However, I was
very busy last night so I had to sleep a good part of the day. I got a much-appreciated Christmas card from my
sister, Anne. It just said “Merry Christmas, with love.” -- but no message. The T.O. has mentioned my giving
lectures as I have done several times in the past. I really don’t mind it if I am given enough advance notice to
prepare. He has mentioned it several times before, but he hasn’t scheduled any. Previous Technical Officers
have behaved in a similar way. It must be something they are supposed to do, but they don’t want to do it.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Thursday, Dec. 24, 1942 - Christmas Eve! Jack, George, and I
had a surprise when we went up to our room this evening. There were presents from Vernie and from Mr. and
Mrs. Cooil. It was very kind of them because they had to use very precious clothing coupons to get the socks
and handkerchiefs they gave us. I hope they are going to like the Manx wool blankets that we will give them
tomorrow. What a day we will have tomorrow! We are to eat dinner with Vernie and supper with Mr. and
Mrs. Cooil. Although the food will be much appreciated, I always enjoy the social event. I hope the weather
will be good. George has the day off, and Jack and I will be called in only in case of an emergency.
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#68 -- Christm as Dinner at RAF Scarlett Cam p, Castletown, Isl e of Man, 1942 -- Eri c
Murrels, Harry Scott, Gladys Brooks , Miss Rickus, Don Crocker -- (Miss Rickus is the
WAAF Officer, Don Crocker is the Sgt. i/c O perations.) The photo was taken by Ji m
Farrior just before the people cam e in to be served.
Christmas! Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Friday, Dec. 25, 1942 - This is my second Christmas abroad and how different from the first! We had terrible food at Cranwell, and not much of it. Not only
that, we nearly froze while we stood in line. We awoke today to a lovely day, the best weather we have seen
in several weeks. It was even quite warm! Miss Rickus, the WAAF officer, had asked me to take pictures of
the camp dinner. George and I went over to the camp before time for the meal to be served and I took some
pictures of the well-decorated mess hall. Pictures were also taken of the people who were most responsible
for the event. They were: Eric Murrels, Harry Scott, Gladys Brooks, Miss Rickus, and Don Crocker. They
had little with which to decorate, but the place looked more festive than I had ever seen it. As the men and
women came in, and were seated, they were immediately served a beer. When I saw them all seated there together, I realized how many of my friends had been posted and replaced by people whom I hardly know.
Since I don’t live in the hut now, I will never get to know these new people like I knew the ones who have
been posted. In that respect, I miss living in the hut. We took a few pictures of them at the tables, and then left
to go to Vernie’s home for our Christmas meal.
At Vernie’s home we thanked her for her nice gifts, and presented her with the Manx wool blanket
that we had for her. She seemed very happy to get it. Vernie really put on a feast for us. The meal was typically American with roast turkey, dressing, potatoes, vegetables, good gravy, and beer. After the meal, we expressed our appreciation to Vernie for all that she has done to make us happy. She said that if we were happy,
she was happy, and I believe she meant it. It was not only a good meal, but Vernie made us feel completely at
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home. We sat around and talked for a long time, and also visited with her mother, who is confined to her bed.
She suffers terribly from asthma. For relief, she sometimes inhales the smoke from a strong pungent smelling
medication of some kind. She always seems happy to see us, so we chat for a while. We went back to Merton
Croft and relaxed in our room for a few hours.
#69 -- Christm as Dinner at RAF Scarlett Cam p, Castletown, Isle of Man, 1942 -- The
Christm as m eal was served by the officers and NCOs in keeping with RAF custom .
It was then time to join Mr. and Mrs. Cooil. We thanked them for the gifts and for making us feel at
home. They really seemed to appreciate the Manx wool blanket we gave them. The meal was very good, with
Yorkshire pudding as the main dish. For desert she had made a minced pie. We sat around for a while and
listened to some interesting things about the Isle of Man, and the Manx culture. I could never tire of our discussions with Mr. and Mrs. Cooil. We had told them earlier that we would be going to the Christmas party at
the camp, so at the appropriate time we said goodbye. The Christmas party at camp was an unusually happy
event. I was told that the meal at camp had been good, and that everybody had a good time. Everybody
seemed to have the Christmas spirit and had lots of fun. The T.O., who in my opinion is not real bright, drank
too many beers, and began to play ninepins with empty beer bottles. The C.O., who is a very proper person,
tried to keep the broken glass swept up as fast as the bottles were being broken, all the while suggesting to the
T.O. with growing impatience that "this is enough". Fortunately, that episode was brief and was over before
many realized what was happening. No aircraft were being tracked, and there were no technical problems, so
only a small crew was manning the station. They had worked out a scheme so that everybody was able to get
a Christmas meal and could attend the party, if only for a short while. When I left about midnight, the party
was still going strong. I had a very, very nice Christmas indeed!
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Boxing Day, Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Saturday, Dec. 26, 1942 - Mrs. Cooil told me that
Boxing Day was a day when people give gifts to the people who had served them during the year, like the
grocer, the greengrocer, the ironmonger, the baker, the sausage maker, etc. At home, I had never heard of
“ironmonger” or “greengrocer”. The party last night lasted until 4 AM and nearly everybody in the Operations Room was asleep on the job today. However, there was only one aircraft up today, so there was little to
do. Daily maintenance was cancelled. One of the few old timers told me that last year on Boxing Day, not a
single plane, friend or foe, was plotted. I went to a dance at the Odd Fellows Hall tonight with Barbara
McRae, one of the WAAFs that I have known for a while. It was very crowded and as I’m a poor dancer, I
didn’t get along very well. Dancing here is very different from at home. It looks better, but is much more difficult. They also cover more ground, and do it at breakneck speed. One of the dancers told me that in peacetime, those who dance a lot have special dancing shoes. I suppose that Barbara will choose someone else to
go to the dance with next time. That would suit me. She is attractive and outgoing, but doesn't seem to have
any serious thoughts about anything.
Sunday, Dec. 27, 1942 - Well, Christmas is over, and New Year will soon be here. People were very
good to us. Thanks to the availability of foods here on the Island, and also to the efforts of Vernie and the
Cooils, we were able to have very delicious meals over the holidays. Even better than the food, we were made
to feel at home here. The recent successes of our armies in Africa, the Far East, and in Russia, have caused
people to be in better spirits during the Christmas season than was the case last year. I have been amazed at
the strength the British people have shown in coping with the disruption the war has had on their personal and
family life. Although they have already endured this situation for several years, and there is little hope of an
early end, they seem not to be discouraged. Tonight, Jack, George, and I went to the Cosy and saw a very interesting travelogue about experiences in Africa and Borneo. The Cosy is always crowded and filled with cigarette smoke. It burns my eyes and throat, and I really appreciate some deep breaths of fresh air when I come
out. I would never think of smoking in a theatre.
Monday, Dec. 28, 1942 - Today, I went to the Post Office and sent a 10-pound money order home. I
still haven’t heard the disposition of the last one I sent. It only cost 3s 3p to send a money order, which seems
very reasonable, assuming that it gets there. The fact that next month I will be 23 years old makes me realize
that I’m already getting rather old to be entering college. I hope I will be able to save enough money and that
the war will end before I’m too old to learn.
Tuesday, Dec. 29, 1942 - I received today a very good framed 8" x 10" studio picture of Mother and
my sister Anne. It is a good likeness of them. I wish I had a good picture of my brother Joe. He is about 12,
and must really be growing now. Looking at the pictures makes me homesick for my family. Also received
was a letter from Vera. It was written from Cambridge, where she was spending a few of days with her family. She thanked me for the cigarettes that I had sent her for Christmas. Trevor Moon, my RNZAF friend who
is an excellent piano player and has given me some help, has been posted to a Wing Maintenance Party. He
will do a good job there. I really hate to see him go.
Wednesday, Dec. 30, 1942 - I’m back on day duties. Although I have less time off, and less time to
study and read, the work is usually more interesting. Most of the maintenance and repair work is done by the
mechanics on day duty. The weather today was nice in the morning. There was no wind and it was not very
cold. However, about noon, the weather began to change and soon it was cold, windy, and raining. Jack spent
a 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM watch at the R Hut. This evening, there was a dance at the Odd Fellows Hall, but I
didn’t go. Jack went, but came back rather early saying that he still had much to learn before he would be able
to dance as they do here.
New Year’s Eve, Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Thursday, Dec. 31, 1942 - Jack had to work
tonight, but George, Helena Day, Barbara McCrea, and I went to Vernie’s house at 10 Mill Street to see the
New Year in. Since it was New Year’s Eve, all of the women and men at camp had a late pass. Vernie had
asked us to come shortly before midnight, and when we arrived at her house, it had begun to drizzle. Vernie
asked us to remain outside a few minutes until her clock struck twelve, because she wanted us to be the first
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to enter her home in the New Year. When the clock struck, the door opened, and we quickly stepped in out of
the drizzle. It is an old Manx custom that those entering the house just after midnight on New Year’s Eve are
to be greeted and given something to eat. According to the old Manx belief, by examining the footprints of
the first to enter, it is possible to predict what will happen during the coming year. Some ashes had been
placed on the floor for that purpose. There was a party going on inside, and we stayed there until 1:30 AM,
during which time it seemed that nearly everybody in town came in briefly. I’ve come to know many of the
local people, and I already knew some of those who came in. Others were introduced, or introduced themselves. I no longer feel like I’m in a stranger in a foreign land. It was a nice party, and after George and I
walked the girls back to camp, and then returned to Merton Croft, we were ready for bed. The first entire calendar year that I have spent abroad has ended. It has certainly been the most interesting year of my life. I
think there is no doubt now that we will win the war, and it is just a question of when. My life here on the Isle
of Man is quite good in all respects, and I wish things could continue as they are. However, I am worried
about the future of the CTC, and I believe that the coming year will bring significant changes for me.
Friday, Jan. 1, 1943 - A new year has begun, and I’m beginning the year with a new Eversharp pen.
My old pen, brought with me from the U.S., finally wore out, but George came to the rescue and sold me a
pen for £1/10/-. In addition to being a good Radio Mechanic, George is a good businessman. When George
and I stopped at the Watterson farm to buy a glass of milk this morning, they invited us inside and gave us
cake and milk. We were the first people to enter their home in the New Year, and according to Manx custom,
we were given food. They said that according to their custom, they could forecast their luck during the coming year by examining the footprints of the first stranger to enter their house in the New Year. I don’t think
we could pass as strangers, so somebody else will determine their luck for 1943. I received a letter today from
Noel Cragin at Rhuddlan. As usual, he is worried about the future of the CTC and what he should do to try to
determine his own fate rather than simply waiting for something to happen. I’m sure that all CTC members
are pondering this problem. Our Technical Officer, O’Brien, is posted. Whether that is good or bad has yet to
be determined. O’Brien treated me reasonably, but made no contributions of which I am aware.
Saturday, Jan. 2, 1943 - I’m told that both the first and second of January are holidays here. At least,
the tailor is taking today off. I haven’t been able to find him open in a long time. My uniform badly needs a
good pressing, not the kind that I give it from time to time in the common room. I talked with Bill Hagman
about the trig equations that are used to determine the height of an aircraft above the surface of the earth, taking into account the curvature of the earth. He is very good at math. I know a great deal more about trigonometry than I did a year ago. Jack says that Jessie has lost a diamond out of her engagement ring, and he is
mourning over the pounds it will take to replace it.
Sunday, Jan. 3, 1943 - George and I put on the bulletin board at camp the pictures we took at the
Christmas dinner and left a sheet for people to write their names and indicate how many copies they wanted.
When we collected the sheet, it had a total order of about 350 photos. I bet that it shakes Mr. Quine, the
chemist, when I walk in and ask for such a large quantity. I wonder how we will make out in collecting the
money. I took the pictures, so I’ll try to get George to do the collecting. Mrs. Cooil had Jack and me for supper tonight. As always, it was a good meal and a delightful visit. George was on duty, so she left a tray of
food in the room. Mrs. Cooil worries much more about us that we worry about ourselves.
Monday, Jan. 4, 1943 - The mail dam broke again, and I got about a month of copies of "The Montgomery Advertiser". This seems crazy. I can’t imagine what causes them to get stuck in the mail system.
Maybe the powers that be reason that if they delay the mail, it will discourage people from generating so
much. My mother has written that the censors have been cutting so much out of my letters that they are sometimes hard to read, especially when written on both sides of the paper. The same is true with some of her letters to me. That is very strange. One shredded letter to me was stamped with the message: "The censor is not
responsible for the mutilation of this letter." Our new Sergeant surely doesn’t bother us. I haven’t seen him
around at all. He hasn’t ventured out of the office. As long as he lets George Ashley run the place, things will
go just fine.
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Tuesday, Jan. 5, 1943 - Barbara and I went to the flicks and saw "Salute John Citizen". It was a British production and was quite good. After the flicks, we went to the Supper Bar and had something to eat. I
don’t know whether Barbara likes me, or just likes to eat at the Supper Bar every now and then. I stay wet
nearly all of the time. Before my clothes get dry, they get wet again. I guess this will continue until summer. I
have been lucky this winter, as I haven’t caught a bad cold like I had last winter. Maybe I’m getting used to
the climate.
The following poem, author unknown, was distributed at the News years Eve party:
Odd Ode
To all personnel, yes the whole blinking lot
To those who are technical, to those who are not
To Raffer and Waaffer, who call themselves ops
To those who break all the gonio stops
To all the mechanics with nothing to do
But sit in a ring ’round the old MB2
To girls in the cook house, who get all the moans
The ladies who feed us, put flesh on our bones
To all the young ladies who work in the kitchen
There’s so much rejoicing it’s almost bewitching
To old Cpl. Murrells, our clerk (general duties)
Who does simply nothing. A rift in the lute is
To LAC Cobham, who smokes curly pipes
He’s tired of waiting for those blinking stripes
To service policemen who wander at large
Each searching for airmen to put on a charge
To WAFFs driving transport, they never are late
They’d drive you to hell for a new 658,
To "Pinky" in charge of the station defenses
Delights in a charge when the battle commences.
To Scotty the airman, who works in the stores
Who would issue the moon for a 674
To Flt/Sgt. Crocker, who bowls, well so he says
Now who’s in this tunic? Perhaps Sgt. Day is.
To the Lady in charge of the Waafs and their morals,
To the bloke i/c RAF, he must look to his laurels.
To our ladies in waiting, we never wait long,
A Happy New Year!, and the end of our song.
The Sgt. Day referred to above is Helena (Daisy) Day, George’s current girl friend.
Wednesday, Jan. 6, 1943 - I want to continue my piano lessons. That will require more practicing
than I’m presently doing. I plan to ask Mrs. Cooil if she would mind if I would close the blackout curtains in
the living room so that I can practice some at night. Mother writes that Joe is taking music lessons. He is ten
years younger than I am, so it may be easier for him to learn. He is also very smart. With me, it’s like teach-
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ing an old dog new tricks. Again the news from Africa indicates that things are going very slowly. I had
hoped that by now we would be moving into Europe.
Thursday, Jan. 7, 1943 - Things have been going very smoothly lately. Maybe it is because we don’t
have a Technical Officer, and the new Sgt. in charge of the Technical Site hasn’t ventured out of the office. I
hope he is not working on a plan of attack. Everything is much better this year. Being billeted out is better in
nearly all respects that living in the camp, and the food that we get can’t be compared with the camp fare. The
RAF men who are billeted out have told me that they are living much better, and also don't have camp duties.
I certainly have nothing to complain about.
Friday, Jan. 8. 1943 - I have been working a few W/T schedules lately. I wish I could get on a fast
net once more and handle some traffic. Our W/T traffic is mostly just a sequence of numbers representing
plots, and all sent very slowly. It doesn’t give me good practice. I hope I don’t forget how before I get back
home. Maybe it doesn’t matter. The letter I got from Pop Jones in Atlanta indicated that teletypewriters are
taking over, so telegraphy may become a thing of the past. It has been a good while since I heard from Teeny.
I have enjoy her letters and hope she hasn’t forgotten me. The days are very short now. At noon, the sun is
only a little above the horizon. That seems very strange to me as I was raised at 32 degrees North latitude,
which is the same as North Africa. The Isle of Man is a little over 52 degrees North latitude, which is the
same as the southern end of Hudson Bay, or Labrador.
Saturday, Jan. 9, 1943 - Although it is slow going, I have worked my way through several textbooks
since I arrived on the Isle of Man. The hope had been that the Russians would be much better than the Germans at fighting in the winter weather, and would be able to drive the Germans out of Russia before it warms
up. That doesn’t seem to be happening. Our hope for an early end to the war depended on it.
Sunday, Jan. 10, 1943 - The weather was much better today, so I climbed the towers and cleaned the
insulators. When the salt from the Irish Sea accumulates on the aerial insulators, it causes leakage that reduces the received signal strength and also causes bearing errors. My pay check has not arrived, so I got through
to Eric Murrels on the blower and asked him to please phone Liverpool and find out what is wrong. He said
that Wing is making some adjustments and that it would be mailed Monday. They always say they are making adjustments. What kind of adjustments, and why? All they need to do is to send me my pay each payday.
Simple as that.
My 23rd Birthday! Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Monday, Jan. 11, 1943 - Gosh! I’m getting old. I got a birthday present from Barbara. It was a small cigarette case with the Manx three-legged emblem on it. Often, I don’t carry cigarettes, and I suspect that she wants to be sure that when she is with me, I
will always have a cigarette for her. I thought she had left on leave today, but Vernie says she was in the Supper Bar. I guess she didn’t want to make the crossing today as it was very rough. I had some fun today helping Stan Collier find a fault on one of the relays in the coordinate converter part of the "Fruit Machine". It is
loaded with relays, and one dirty contact is all that it takes to cause a big problem. I also had to do some work
on the standby RM-3C receiver in the R Hut.
Tuesday, Jan. 12, 1943 - Mrs. Cooil said that I could close the blackout curtains in the parlor and
practice on the piano at night. I hope to make a habit of practicing for about an hour every day or night.
George’s watch is broken, and he carries a small alarm clock around in his pocket. I got my pay today, and a
letter saying that in the future I would be paid monthly instead of weekly. My salary is now 400 pounds a
year. I believe that is £33/6/8 per month, total salary. However, £2/5/- per week will be taken out of my salary
each week and sent home. It will be interesting to see what my pay check will be each month. I think that I
can see now why Wing was always holding up my check while they made adjustments. They just couldn’t
figure it out.
Wednesday, Jan. 13, 1943 - George and I met an interesting man, Mr. Louis Dehaene from King
William’s College. He gave me his card and invited George and me to visit him at the college so that he can
show us through and introduce us to some of his friends. Friday is our day off, so we have decided to visit
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him then. During the past year, I have had many occasions to talk with Mr. Watterson at the Scarlett farm. His
cows, and milk barn, and my discussions with him all remind me of Letohatchie, Alabama, the small country
town where I was raised. The cows behave and smell the same here as at home, and I feel at home in his
farmyard. When I stopped for a glass of milk today, Mr. Watterson invited Jack, George, and me to have supper with them Friday night. It is a pity that Jack can’t be there.
Thursday, Jan. 14, 1943 - I met Mr. Dehaene today and told him that George and I could be at King
William’s College at 4:45 tomorrow. There is a course in lecturing beginning soon at Wing Headquarters in
Liverpool and I’ve been told that I may be sent. I don’t relish the idea. I wouldn’t mind if I thought that it had
nothing to do with a posting. If I did well, I could end up back at Cranwell. Things are going well here and I
don’t want to rock the boat. I’ve spent many hours lately studying physics (electricity and magnetism) and
algebra. I get much pleasure out of it, but am impatient with the slow progress.
Friday, Jan. 15, 1943 - We really had some interesting experiences today. Right after lunch at the
Supper Bar, George and I went through the D/F station at Red Gap, which is just a short walk beyond the
Scarlett camp. Mr. Banner, the man in charge, showed us through and explained the technical aspects of the
station to us. The station has two channels, one for learners, and one for operational use. The station works in
conjunction with other similar stations. Using an Adcock direction finding system, each D/F station obtains
bearings on an aircraft during a brief key-down radio transmission. Each D/F station transmits by W/T the
bearings it takes to one of the stations, which plots all of the bearings on a chart (map) in the following way.
The chart is on a large table, and on the underside of the table at the location of each D/F station is a springreturn bobbin wound with a string. The string come up through small hole at the station location, and around
the hole is a compass rose. A small lead weight, called a mouse, is attached to the end of the cord, and the
string is pulled out as the mouse is moved across the chart so that the string cuts the compass rose at the reported bearing. This is done for all of the bearings that have been obtained, and the aircraft’s location, called a
fix, is assumed to be at the point closest to the string interceptions. That fix is sent back to the aircraft by
W/T. The process is done quite quickly, and the accuracy is sufficient to let the aircraft set a good course to
fly until another bearing is received later, if required. If an aircraft becomes lost, only one fix is often enough
to get the aircraft back on course.
After watching the operator for a few minutes, I could tell that the system required very little skill
other than the W/T operating skill, and even that was at the very lowest level. I believe that with my background, I could have performed everything that needed to be done, including maintaining and repairing the
equipment, without any additional instruction. Although this station is rather new, the D/F system was being
set up in Britain for civil aviation before the war started, but is now serving to provide bearings to help our
kites get back from raids over the continent or from other missions. In addition to the operational function, the
stations have a teaching function to train D/F operators and airborne radio operators. Mr. Banner invited us to
go through the transmitter building near Ballasalla, which we want very much to see.
By the time George and I had finished at Red Gap, it was time to head for King William’s College,
which was a good hike. Mr. Dehaene met us at the entrance, and began a most interesting tour of the College.
I had previously attended a cricket game that was played on a green in front of the old and very impressive
College building, but never dreamed that I would be able to go inside. We learned that the famous school was
opened in the early 1830’s. The original building was destroyed by a fire in 1844, and was replaced by the
present building, which appears to be in excellent condition. The wide three-floor building has a large central
tower over 100 feet high. In spite of the impression one gets that this would be a very expensive school to
attend, it is a public school of moderate cost. It is a college for boys up to 18 years old, who live at the college. The younger boys have a large study hall for each group of about 30. One boy is elected to see that behavior is orderly, and the masters seldom interfere. The older boys have a small room and they are assigned a
"study", with two to the room. The paneled dining room is large and hung with appropriate paintings. At
noon, a master sits at the head of each table, but at other times, boys in charge sit there. There is a very large
and good library, which includes a good up to date technical library. The physics and chemical labs are well
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equipped, as are the wood and metal working shops. There is a swimming pool, but due to the wartime fuel
rationing, it cannot be heated. Everything about the school seems designed to promote learning and to teach
civilized manners to the students. The high school that I attended in Alabama had absolutely none of the atmosphere that King William’s College possesses, and the curriculum could not begin to compare. After we
had been shown the college, we went with Mr. Dehaene into his study, which was a large, paneled room with
windows overlooking the green in front of the college. He had a large, fine desk, and bookcases filled with
many books. He introduced us to several of his friends who were already in the room. One of them was a
young captain, just back from the Middle East, who is convalescing after having received a bullet through his
arm. We were also introduced to several other people associated with the college.
After some interesting discussion, and after having thanked Mr. Dehaene for his kindness, we said
goodbye and told him we must leave in order not to be late for supper with the Wattersons. Mr. Dehaene
asked us to come to see him again soon. It was an unforgettable experience. George and I have rushed from
one place to the other today. We had to walk rapidly after leaving King William’s College so as not to be late
for supper at the Watterson farm at Scarlett. Mrs. Watterson and the Watterson’s two daughters, Theresa and
Margaret, whom we were meeting for the first time, met us at the door and invited us in. Having been raised
in the country, I really enjoyed the visit to the Watterson farm. The Watterson’s have a neat, well-furnished
home. In Alabama, the farmhouse is usually out front and has a fenced front and back yard, and the farmyard
and farm buildings are usually behind the back yard. The Watterson home and farm buildings are placed
around an open area with the house on the backside of the open area, and facing inward. Unlike the typical
Alabama farm, which usually has old junk farm machinery and junk vehicles scattered around, the Watterson
farm complex is clean, and orderly. Also, a typical Alabama farm has wooden buildings, often unpainted and
in a poor state of repair. The Watterson’s home and farm buildings are of stone and appear to have been built
for the ages. The conversation was interesting, and mostly about local things. Theresa and Margaret were attractive girls, but appeared shy. They said that they had taken piano lessons from a Miss Duke, who lives on
Arbory Road, quite close to Merton Croft. They spoke highly of Miss Duke’s teaching, and we were treated
to several songs. I should stop by Miss Duke’s house and talk to her about some lessons. I asked the Wattersons how they felt about living adjacent to a potential military target, and they said that it had been of little
concern to them. They have a nearby air raid shelter and should get plenty of warning. The meal was plentiful
and very good, and I drank a couple of glasses of their delicious milk. Mrs. Watterson had baked some scones
and a cake. We felt that the Wattersons couldn’t have been nicer to us, and we tried to convey our appreciation. After the walk back to Castletown, we were ready to call it a day Note (March 2000): Alan Cleary sent
me the following information about the Watterson family: Father: John Thomas Watterson, d. 1967 -- Son:
John Mylchreest Watterson, age 76 -- Daughter: Theresa Maude (about 18 mo. younger than John -- Daughter: Margaret Elizabeth (about 18 mo. older than John) -- Grandson: William Henry Watterson (age 52). Henry presently lives at the farm, and his father, John, assists in farming. End note.
Saturday, Jan. 16, 1943 - This morning I heard that Cobbie and Bell are being sent to Liverpool for
a course in “lecturing”, so I guess I don’t have to worry about that for a while. My good friend and former
math helper, Sgt. Fred Harvey, is here from Wing today, and I enjoyed seeing him. He said that he had
missed the friends he had made here. However, not many of them are still here. I hear that Barbara is posted.
She should have heeded the well-known curse that if a WAAF goes with an American, she will get posted.
Maybe there is something to Manx superstition.
Sunday, Jan. 17, 1943 - The dinner at Vernie’s home today was unusually good. George’s girl
friend, Helena "Daisy" Day (Sgt., WAAF) had dinner with us. Daisy is the highest-ranking WAAF at the station, except for the WAAF officer, Miss Rickus, and is in charge of the operators on the day shift. I met the
new T.O. today. He seems to be a decent fellow.
Monday, Jan. 18, 1943 - I received a letter from Mother, my sister Anne, and from Eli Robinson.
The letter from home indicates that not much has changed in Letohatchie since I left, except that most of the
military age men are gone. My stepfather, Melvin Sanderson is doing some squirrel hunting in the pond
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woods. My mother goes with him to spot the squirrels, as Melvin’s eyesight is not very good. Also received
was a Christmas card from Pop Jones, with whom I worked as a telegraph operator in Atlanta. Pop, who is
getting near retirement age, is a well-known amateur radio operator. For a number of years he has had a regular column in the radio amateur magazine "QST".
Tuesday, Jan. 19, 1943 - I’m doing things backward, but it can’t be helped. It would be nice if I
could get a college education, and then try to understand some of the things I’m studying. Some of the electronic circuits I’ve studied are really difficult for me to understand completely. On the other hand, the Technical Officers we have had are college educated, and they don’t seem to be good at it.
Wednesday, Jan. 20, 1943 - I received a much-appreciated letter from Pop Jones today in which he
describes some of the new equipment that WVR is using. They are using 75 w.p.m. radio-teletypes. I sure
would like to see some of that equipment. The thing that worries me is that the teletype will cause telegraph
operators to be replaced by typists. I’m not really planning on getting back into telegraphy after the war, because the technical work is much more interesting, but it would be nice to have a skill to fall back on, if necessary. Pop wants to know what I’m doing, but I’m afraid that there is little that I’m allowed to say. Barbara
came back from leave today and learned that she is posted somewhere in Devon. She leaves in the morning.
She is a rather pretty girl, and fun to be with, but she is not very bright. In fact, it seems that she scarcely has
a brain in her head. She is now part of the curse that causes WAAFs to be posted if they go with a CTC man.
Thursday, Jan. 21, 1943 - The weather was better today, so George and I took the opportunity to
clean the insulators on the R towers. That took the best part of the day. Tomorrow, if the weather permits, we
plan to take advantage of the offer Mr. Banner made us to visit the D/F transmitting station at Ballahick,
which is between Ballasalla and Ronaldsway.
Friday, Jan. 22, 1943 - It was a very pleasant day today, and we enjoyed the walk to Ballahick from
where we got off the bus in Ballasalla. Although the station is remotely operated and has little need for a
technician except in the case of trouble, there was a technical man there who showed us through. There is
some very good equipment here, which includes the equipment that supports the Ronaldsway Aerodrome.
Most of the units are multi-band and are remotely controlled by Post Office stepping switches at the transmitter and a telephone dial at the operating site. Most of the equipment is manufactured by Standard Radio and
Marconi. The technician told me that there is a pretty good radio store in Ballasalla where I might be able to
buy a decent speaker for "The Voice of Alabama". George had a date and had to get back to Castletown. By
the time we had finished at Ballahick, it was too late to visit Mr. Dehaene. He understood that we might not
make it, so it was not a problem. Tonight, I wrote a letter to Pop Jones, with whom I worked at WVR. Pop
could probably be of help in finding a job for me after the war if I’m not able to go to school. However, it
would probably have to be a job other than a radio telegrapher, because they will have been replaced by teletype operators. However, ships and coastal stations will still need them.
Saturday, Jan. 23, 1943 - Using the blackouts, I’m able to practice the piano more often than previously. I’m learning slowly. At this rate, I will have to live a very long time if I am to become a musician.
There is a little News Letter put out by CTC headquarters in London. Six have been published, but I’ve only
seen two, including the one just received. Number 6, dated December, has come out and it indicates my promotion to Foreman of Trades. It states that due primarily to repatriations and enlistment in the U.S. Forces,
there are only 500 CTC members left, which is about half of the original. They are posted to 150 different
places.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Sunday, Jan. 24, 1943 - The weeks are flying by. Vernie had a
good dinner today, and Mrs. Cooil left an apple pie in our room. We don’t deserve all of this kindness. I believe that Mrs. Cooil must be getting some sugar from her friends as her sugar ration wouldn’t provide
enough for the pies she has made for us. They had a projector set up at camp tonight and we saw "Rhythm on
the Range" with Bing Crosby and Oscar Levant. Suddenly the war news seems more encouraging
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Monday, Jan. 25, 1943 - Murray Short, who used to be a radio mechanic here, came in on leave tonight. He remustered to pilot, and has finished his ground training and will soon go to Canada or the States
for final training. He said that he would really be disappointed if he went somewhere like Rhodesia for his
final training!
Tuesday, Jan. 26, 1943 – I think the Germans are very worried. Some of the Nazi leaders have made
speeches that indicate a concern about the way the war is going. That’s a good sign. In a letter from Noel
Cragin at Rhuddlan he said that he still has not been able to get a promotion to Senior Craftsman. I don’t
know his technical capability. Maybe he hasn’t earned it. My last letter to Floyd Harkcom at Bride has not
been answered, and I wonder if he has been posted somewhere. I’m really getting interested in Manx history.
I’ve added a few books to my collection, and reading them has helped explain some of the things that I’ve
seen since I’ve been here. Mrs. Cooil is well read and continues to tell me things about the culture and history
of the Island.
Wednesday, Jan. 27, 1943 - This evening I went to Douglas and saw "A Yank at Eaton" at the Picture House. It was pretty good, but better suited for an American audience. I received a letter from CTC
headquarters containing a form approving my sending 10 pounds to the U.S. It also advised me that the badges and buttons were being sent under separate cover. Flight Officer Dirkin is here for station calibration.
Thursday, Jan. 28, 1943 - The buttons and badges from headquarters arrived today. They were
prompt about it, which surprised me. They must have had no place to store them in London. I got a nice
Christmas present today from Teeny, which was a year’s subscription to "The Reader’s Digest". What a wonderful gift! Also received was a letter from home. Tonight, I wrote letters to both Mother and Teeny. Mr. Fenton came to see me today and said that my application had been accepted for entry into their volunteer Radio
Security Service. I told him that I didn’t expect to be able to be of much help as my schedule had been very
irregular. He replied that any help that I can give would be appreciated.
Friday, Jan. 29, 1943 - In Britain, everything is Royal --- the Royal Air Force, the Royal Mail, the
Royal Mint, and on and on. However, I’ve noticed that the national debt is not the Royal Debt.
Saturday, Jan. 30, 1943 - There is a civilian bloke here from Wing who says that he has been doing
aerial phasing since 1940, but he still acts like the whole thing is a mystery. There is really very little to do,
and little chance of finding it out of adjustment. To adjust the phasing, a concentric cable is slightly lengthened. or shortened. It has seldom been found necessary to make an adjustment. George and I have left our
uniforms with the tailor to have the strips sewn on. I wonder how they will look. George was promoted to
Charge Hand and I was promoted to Foreman of Trades.
Sunday, Jan. 31, 1943 - Mr. Fenton came to see me tonight and we talked about radio equipment. He
wants me to go to Ramsey with him next Saturday night to meet some of his gang. I’d really like to go with
him, and the work they do sounds interesting, but I had to tell him that the way things are working out, I’m
just too busy to participate at this time. I’m really sorry that I initially agreed to help them with the Radio Security Service. However, I have had less available time lately because I have been mostly working the day
shift, and I don’t want to give up my evenings. Maybe I will be able to help them later. Also, our status with
respect to the shifts we work changes so frequently that they would not be able to depend on my being available when I was needed. Hopefully, something will work out.
Monday, Feb. 1, 1943 - Cecil Hargreaves came to see me tonight and he played some beautiful pieces on the piano. He said that Mrs. Cooil’s piano is a fine instrument. I told him of some of the problems I’m
having, and he gave me some advice that will help me. The best advice is to be born with talent. George Ashley is going on leave so I will have to do more office work. Most of the office work is really nonsense, but the
assignment of the personnel to the various shifts, and resolving other problems with respect to the personnel
is absolutely necessary. That is also difficult because it must be done in a way that doesn’t cause too much
unhappiness among the men.
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Tuesday, Feb. 2, 1943 - I got my paycheck today in the amount of £23/19/3. It is actually a money
order, and the Post Office was unable to cash it. It surely does seem a long time between paydays, now that
they are paying me monthly. Since I have approval to send 10 pounds home, I think I will take the money
order back tomorrow together with the approval slip and perhaps they will be able to give me £13/19/3. The
simplest things sometimes become major obstacles here.
Wednesday, Feb. 3, 1943 - I don’t think I was paid the proper amount. It is almost the correct
amount if it is just my normal pay, but does not include the living out allowance. The total should have been
£30/4/3, according to my figures. Maybe they will send my living out allowance separately. If they are trying
to confuse me, they are doing a good job of it.
Thursday, Feb. 4, 1943 - What rotten luck for both Cecil Hargreaves and also for me. Cecil is posted
to Cranwell, and I will not be able to receive the help with the piano that he was going to give me. I have my
uniform back with the stripes on the sleeve. They resemble a Warrant Officer’s insignia, and folks at camp
ask me what they mean. If I tell them Foreman of Trades, they are more confused than ever, so I tell them that
it is a rank equivalent to Flight Sergeant. How do I tell them what I am when I don’t know myself? Mr.
Dehaene called and invited Jack, George, and me to a party tomorrow night at the home of Mr. Wilfred Cain,
the owner, or perhaps manager, of the Castletown Brewery. He and his wife live in a home named Ballamoar
on Ballasalla road, not far from King William’s College. The Castletown Brewery’s Manx ales, beers, and
stouts are world famous. I wouldn’t miss it for anything, but George and Jack already have plans for the evening. However, George is thinking of canceling so he can go with me. Sometimes the Castletown Brewery
emits a wonderfully pleasant smell of roasting hops that can be smelled all over Castletown. When the humidity and wind are just right, the pleasant odor is unusually strong. It is a good advertisement for their products,
which are excellent and have little competition on the Isle of Man.
Friday, Feb. 5, 1943 - Tonight, George and I went to King Williams College where we met Mr.
Dehaene. He told us some interesting things about conditions in Germany just before the war. He was in
Germany until the day before war was declared, but managed to get out. We walked together over to Ballamoar, and a uniformed servant met us at the door and formally announced us. Wilfred and Helen Cain were
very pleasant people, and their home was very beautiful. There was plenty of food and drink, and we enjoyed
talking with those at the party. It was obvious that they were the cream of Castletown’s society.
They seemed to be genuinely interested in us, and some of them said that they had visited the U.S.
before the war. Also present was Pilot Officer Scott Forest, whose father is Dr. Scott Forest. They live next
door to Merton Croft. Dr. Scott Forest is one of Castletown’s leading physicians, and comes to our camp
when Dr. Stephens is not available. P.O. Scott Forest has just returned from Pensacola, Florida, where he was
taking flight training. That is where the Naval Air Station and Ft. Barrancas are located. In 1937, as a member
of the Civilian Conservation Corps, I attended a radiotelegraphy school at Ft. Barrancas. I venture to say that
it would not be possible to muster a more elegant group than that in Castletown. When we were introduced, I
recognized who some of them were, but had not met them. It was a most enjoyable and memorable evening.
The weather was moderate, and after thanking and saying goodbye to our hosts, we enjoyed a pleasant walk
back home to Merton Croft.
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Photo by Jim Farrior
#70 -- The Fam ous Castletown Brewery, Castletown, I.O.M. -- 1942.
Saturday, Feb. 6, 1943 - Dick Haslam went to Douglas to see "Gone with the Wind", and I worked
his W/T schedule. I passed a little over 160 plots in 50 minutes, which was all the plots that that they had.
Although slow, that was good for the Preston W/T net. Mrs. Cooil has invited us to have supper with her tomorrow night, which is a great help. She has been more than kind to us. I had to work from 0900 this morning
to 2300 tonight. Yesterday, an aircraft carrier passed by not far off the southern coast. It is the first one that I
have seen in a long time. We often see naval ships, lone merchant ships, and convoys.
Sunday, Feb. 7, 1943 - I wrote a letter to Eli Robinson, at Auburn, Ala., where he is still going to
school at the Alabama Polytechnic Institute. I also wrote one to Noel Cragin at Rhuddlan, Flintshire. We had
supper with Mr. and Mrs. Cooil. After supper, we talked for several hours. She told me some more stories
about Dr. John Clague, who wrote a most interesting book "Manx Reminiscences", which I have. He lived
across the street in the large home named "Crofton". She said that Dr. Clague had been one of a few surviving
people who were fluent in the Manx language. Mrs. Cooil is well versed in the history of the Island. On the
other hand, Mr. Cooil tells us of more recent events. Years ago, he owned a large combine which was pulled
by a steam driven tractor. He used it to harvest grain from farms in the area, and apparently had done well
financially. He showed us an old picture of the machine. The huge steam tractor looked more like a locomotive than a tractor. Jack goes on leave to Scotland tomorrow.
Monday, Feb. 8, 1943 - George is on watches and I am still on days with a flock of new mechanics
to teach. As soon as they learn enough to be useful, they are likely to be posted elsewhere. I got a nice letter
from Teeny today. I wish she would write more often and tell me more about events around Letohatchie. As
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she is younger that I am we had few common friends. This evening, I went to the Cosy and saw Joe E. Brown
in "Shut My Big Mouth". It was really funny. I have been working most of Dickie Haslam’s W/T schedules
for him lately. He has no interest in telegraphy, and I enjoy it and do it on my own time.
Tuesday, Feb. 9, 1943 - We sure do have a lot of personnel here now. Most of them are inexperienced and need additional training. An order came out today for all military radio mechanics to take an overseas medical examination. I believe we will have a lot of postings overseas in a few weeks. It is a mystery to
me where they go when they go "overseas". I wonder if "overseas" isn’t just a code word for "to another
Wing". Most of the new inexperienced people won’t be of much use initially. There have been many postings,
and not many of the old gang are left here now. George, Jack, myself, George Ashley, Ron Wood, Dick Haslam, Don Crocker, Millie, Esmie, and Bill Jones are about all that are left. Sometimes we feel lonely in the
midst of a crowd. If experience is any guide, we will soon not have enough for four watches. I got a letter
from home and they didn’t mention anything about the Christmas presents I asked Mother to buy. I guess the
letter got lost. I sure wish that Teeny had gotten her present. Although she doesn’t write often, and doesn’t
say very much when she does, she has written to me now for over a year. I really appreciate it.
Wednesday, Feb. 10, 1943 - I went to Douglas today with George Fulton. We saw Margaret Stevenson standing in the bus queue in Douglas and spoke with her for a while. I owe a lot to her for her guided
tours through the Manx Museum, for getting me interested in Manx history, and for pointing me to some
good books to read. In the hope that I can improve my English and increase my vocabulary, I bought Roget’s
Thesaurus today. It should prove to be a considerable help, especially in writing letters. I had never heard of
the Thesaurus before I came to Britain. It seems very difficult to use, but perhaps it will be easier after some
experience with it. I bought a piece of music for Teeny and will send it to her when I get a few more. It is a
beautiful piece entitled "My Devotion" that is very popular here.
Thursday, Feb. 11, 1943 - It was one of those days when I got lucky on mail. I got two letters from
Mother, and a Christmas card from Harry, Loretta, and Barbara Lee Kline. They were the family that boarded
at the same place I did in Atlanta. It was from Racine, Wisconsin, so they must have moved there. In one of
the letters from home, mother said that the letter about the Christmas presents had been received and she had
gotten a bracelet for Teeny, a watch chain for Melvin, a pin for herself, and had given Joe the money so he
could get what he wanted. I feel much better about it now. Floyd Harkcom is still at Bride. George talked
with him on the phone a few days ago. Don Crocker is back from leave. And so is Esmie! That seems like
more than a coincidence.
Friday, Feb. 12, 1943 - I wish they would decide whether this is a radiolocation station or an educational institution! It seems that the experienced mechanics, of which there are few, are required to do so much
teaching that we don’t have time to get our work done. The T.O. seems a little strange. He certainly hasn’t
bothered anybody, which is one good trait. For the first time, I feel that I am inching ahead with my piano
lessons. I’m practicing a little nearly every day. For simple pieces, I’m able to pick out the melody from the
score, but it is very hard to play the left-hand notes. I got my first copy of Readers Digest today. This is something that a lot of people will enjoy, because I can pass it around after I’ve read it. I’ll give it to the Cooils
first. After Jack and George have seen it, I will take it to the common room at camp. Thank you, Teeny!
Saturday, Feb. 13, 1943 - Jack Boor came back today. In a nice letter from Teeny today, she thanked
me for the bracelet. I wish I could see her, and would like to tell her that, but I’m afraid that Mrs. Florence
might tell her to stop writing to me. We have a new corporal. I don’t know his name yet, but I hear that he is
from Rhuddlan, Flintshire, the station where Cragin and Cooke are located. He is the first experienced man
we have received in a long time.
Sunday, Feb. 14, 1943 - Tug Wilson had dinner with us today. Vernie fried a chicken for us. It really
was good. It’s an embarrassment to hear the fellows at camp talking about their bad food, because those who
are eating outside the camp are eating much better. I understand their complaints from personal experience.
However, I’d be foolish not to take full advantage of our good fortune. The Cooils had Jack, George, and me
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for supper, and we had another long visit with them. I have heard folks in town, especially in the pub, arguing
about which doctor is the best, Dr Stephens or Dr. Scott Forrest. It doesn’t take much to get Mr. and Mrs.
Cooil arguing about it, as well. Mrs. Cooil’s favorite is Dr. Scott Forrest, whose house shares a common wall
with Merton Croft, and she praises him mightily, while making disparaging comments about Dr. Stephens.
Mr. Cooil is equally vocal in his praise of Dr. Stephens, and points out the shortcomings of Dr. Scott Forrest.
It is about the only thing that Mr. and Mrs. Cooil argue about. Although we don’t get involved in the argument, both Jack and I think that Dr. Stephens is very good indeed. We have both spent time under his care,
and Jack gives him credit for saving his life. We have met Dr. Scott Forrest, but have never been treated by
him. Mrs. Cooil ended the argument tonight with a surprisingly negative comment about Dr. Scott Forrest.
She said, "I sure do wish that Scott Forrest would control his mice." Mrs. Cooil told us that Cromwell had
destroyed Peel Castle, and that there is a stone chair on Scarlett Rocks where Cromwell sat to make his plans.
I’ll have to check that one out. It sounds more like fiction than fact. I’ve been to Scarlett Rocks many times
and don’t recall a stone chair, although there are plenty of places to sit. Mrs. Cooil says that there is a Miss
Duke, who lives at 49 Arbory St., who teaches piano, and that many of the local people had taken lessons
from her. She is the lady that the Watterson girls told me about, and I should have looked into it before now.
Air Vice-Marshal Robert Stanley Aiken, the commander of 60 Group to which 77 Wing belongs, inspected Scarlett today. He asked to speak with me and when I went in to see him, he told me that he understands that the CTC are doing a very good job. That, coming from the Group Commander, is quite an honor.
It made me feel very good.
Monday, Feb. 15, 1943 - I went to Douglas this evening after work and saw "The Falcon’s Brother"
at the Picture House.
Tuesday, Feb. 16, 1943 - Jack Boor seems to be having motherin-law trouble even before he is married. It seems as if Jessie’s mother
doesn’t want her to get married until the war is over. This just doesn’t suit
Jack, or Jessie either, as Jack thinks the war will last some two or three
more years. If I were he, I don’t think I would like that either. It makes me
angry when I spend half of my day off mending clothing that should be
discarded. Although the Air Ministry is not spending much money on my
clothing, they are rather generous in giving us £1/9/9 for living out. I don’t
know, but I would bet that that is what they give commissioned officers. I
understand that airmen get only about 19 shillings, but that may be for the
lowest ranks.
Wednesday, Feb. 17, 1943 - Mr. Woodacre, Tich Ferrer, and
P.O. Reid are here checking the phasing of the aerials prior to calibration.
I must write Anne a letter thanking her for the nice picture she sent me. I
should have some taken to send home.
#120 -- Miss E. L. Duke
- Photo courtesy of the Kinley
family of Castletown, I.O.M.
sun even came out!
Thursday, Feb. 18, 1943 - I had good luck today. Miss Duke said
that she could give me one lesson a week, beginning tomorrow night at 9
o’clock. Maybe I will see some progress now. I got a paycheck today in
the amount of £18/12/1. I can’t imagine how they are paying me. It seems
almost like random amounts. The weather today was unusually nice. The
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#124 - Miss Duke’s card
Friday, Feb. 19, 1943 - I had a piano lesson today
and Miss Duke says she thinks I won’t have any trouble
learning to play. She charges 1s 9d per lesson, which is
most reasonable, but she can only give one lesson per
week. I have heard from several people that she is an excellent piano teacher.
Saturday, Feb. 20, 1943 - After work, George and
I went to Douglas and saw "Night in Havana" at the Gaiety. I saw it in Atlanta about two years ago. At the music
store, I bought some music that I will send Teeny after I get a few more. Although I can’t play the pieces with
both hands, I can read the treble staff well enough to pick out the melody on some of them. Since I’ve been
here, some very good songs have become popular. I can tell from the radio programs that they are popular
both in Britain and at home.
Sunday, Feb. 21, 1943 - The weather has not been as cold and bad this year as it was last year. We
haven’t had enough snow to stick, and only a few days of freezing weather. As a result, I haven’t had the bad
cold that I had last year. Maybe I’m also getting used to the weather here. There was a better than usual
"shaky do" at camp tonight, and people from Cregneish and Dalby were here. Stan Collier played his violin.
We also had a pianist and a xylophonist, and a drummer from somewhere. They made very good music, and I
tried a few dances, but soon gave up and just listened to the music.
Monday, Feb. 22, 1943 - I received a newsy letter from Jimmy Coleman today. He enclosed a picture of the Hayneville SR II class. It is a small photo, and there are a lot of people in it, but I can much tell
that some of them still look pretty much the same; however, some have changed a lot. Teeny is in the picture.
Jimmy is in the army now. All of the Coleman boys are now in the service. Coby is in Guadalcanal, Jesse is
in Australia, and Guy is in the Caribbean. Joe Williamson is in the Pacific, and so is James Anners. Billy
Hargrove is in training in Oklahoma. Ben Woodall and
Buddy Woodruff are both in the Navy somewhere.
Vernon Kummel was recently in Letohatchie from Canada, where he is in pilot training. Vernon’s ex-girl
friend, Clara Belle Elliott recently married a sergeant
from Gunter Field, the new air field near Montgomery.
Tuesday, Feb. 23, 1943 - I should have waited a
few days before writing about not having had a cold,
because I’ve suddenly come down with a bad one. Last
year I kept it all winter. Maybe I’ll have better luck this
time. Today we had practice on the rifle range at
Ronaldsway, and I got 44 out of 50. I really enjoy the
rifle range. We have a new officer who is the adjutant.
We never had one before. Why in the world do we need
an adjutant? What can he do that is useful? A while
back, I borrowed some amateur radio magazines, "QST",
from Mr. Fenton. I’ve finished reading them, and must
return them soon. He lives over near the Ronaldsway
aerodrome.
#80 -- My sister Anne and her husband Donald Slesnick
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Wednesday, Feb. 24, 1943 - I wrote a letter to Anne thanking her for the picture of herself and Don
that she had sent me. I practiced for an hour and a half and can now play "Auld Lang Syne" using both hands!
Perhaps I should not go to work in the morning if my cold isn’t any better. I hate to go to the sick bay for fear
they will put me in bed like they did before. The ladies at the NAAFI are very nice to me and often give me
more than my ration of chocolate when they have it. It is seldom that we get any.
Thursday, Feb. 25, 1943 - I’ve been impressed by the quality of manufactured electrical and mechanical goods. My bike is much better built than the one I had at home. For the most part, the RDF equipment at the technical site is better constructed than the communications equipment I used in the U.S., although some of the electronic components are not as reliable. However, the electronic test equipment is insufficient and of less quality. There was one thing that struck me about Britain early on, and that was the lack of
standardization. In Cranwell, I needed to replace a tapered bolt having a milled flat on one side. It secured the
pedal arm to the pedal shaft of the bike I then had. The new bolt that I bought didn’t fit, and I took it back to
the dealer, who told me that it had not been machined. He chucked it up in his lathe and modified it slightly
so that it would fit my particular bike. In Britain, radio valve manufacturers give their own type numbers to
the valves they manufacture. At home, all of the most commonly used types are made by a number of different manufacturers, and are given the same type name. When I bought a flashlight in Canada, I found out later
that the battery needed was peculiar to the flashlight manufacturer, and I wasn’t able to find a replacement
battery. I also noticed that on some of the flashlights one pushed the switch forward to turn it one, but on
some others, the switch must be pushed backward. At the technical site, I have found that when replacing
some parts with the specified part number, the mounting holes don’t match, or the item has a slightly different
size or shape. That sometimes makes the replacement more difficult and time consuming.
Friday, Feb. 26, 1943 - I had another piano lesson tonight and Mrs. Duke says I am doing well. I can
play three songs now without making an error. The main thing I’ve gained from my music lessons is a great
and growing respect for musicians.
Saturday, Feb. 27 1943 - Ian Wright, Ron Wood, Bob Douglas, and a few more of the mechanics
were posted. I have known Ian and Ron for over a year. They are going on a Ground Control Interception
(GCI) course prior to being posted over seas. This leaves only a few experienced men -- George Fulton, Jack
Boor, George Ashley, Cpl. Wain, Bruce Liberty, Cpl. Painter, and myself. George Ashley has been here the
longest, and I am next. Three of the seven experienced men here are CTC men. We are going to have a heck
of a time working out a watch list.
Sunday, Feb. 28, 1943 - The Cooils had us for supper tonight and it was quite good. After supper, we
talked until 9 o’clock. An evening with the Cooils is very rewarding, and I enjoy every minute of it. After
thanking the Cooils for the wonderful evening, we went to the camp and said goodbye to the fellows who are
being posted. Since I’ve been here, I’ve spent a lot of time saying goodbye. I feel that I’m the native, and the
others are foreigners. People are posted out of here without any apparent consideration of our needs. Nobody
checks to see what affect the posting would have on our operation. This is the worse it has been, and a few
more postings, and we simply won’t be able to do the maintenance work needed to keep the station functioning properly. Because of the personnel shortage, I’m again working shifts and George Ashley is serving as the
only day mechanic. Since I’ve been here, George Ashley has gone from an LAC to a corporal and then to a
sergeant, and he now finds himself doing the same work he did as an LAC. I’ve had the same CTC rank progression, and I’m now doing practically the same thing that I did when I first arrived here. There must be a
better way to run this outfit.
Monday, Mar. 1, 1943 - I spent almost the entire day studying algebra and trig, both of which are
needed to solve problems in alternating current circuits. However, no amount of math would make it possible
to explain the amount of my paychecks. I got a money order today for £9/-/-, which together with the
£18/12/1 I got on Feb. 18 makes a total of £29/12/1 for the month. That is 12s 2d less than I had figured. We
are now being paid directly from CTC Headquarters in London. Our money orders are always sent to us
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without any description of the payment. I’m sure that every CTC member is going through the same bewilderment. It must really be bad for those who are inclined to live from paycheck to paycheck.
Tuesday, Mar. 2, 1943 - I went to the Post Office to send a money order home, but the Post Office
would not send it although CTC headquarters had certified it. They said that the rules had been changed, and
that now I would have to get permission to send money out of the country from the British government in
London. That channel is so full of red tape that it is not worth trying. I will put it in Postal Savings and hope
that I can withdraw it when I leave Britain.
Wednesday, Mar. 3, 1943 - Once again, we hear that the rationing of meat here on the Island is going to be changed to be the same as on the mainland. Previously, I haven’t noticed any difference following
such announcements, so I’m not very worried now. In any case, we have a lot of faith in Vernie’s skill when
it comes to getting things to eat.
Thursday, Mar. 4, 1943 - There was a raid on London, but the bombs did little damage. However, it
caused a number of casualties. People began rushing into a large shelter that had a long stairway leading
down to a landing, where the stairs changed direction and continued. Some people stumbled down near the
bottom, and others tripped over the fallen people. The people at the entrance didn’t know what had happened,
and they continued to push their way in. It ended up with a large pile of people from which they extracted 200
dead and over 60 wounded. The air raids the Germans have been making recently have been very weak compared to the raids the RAF has made against Germany.
Friday, Mar. 5, 1943 - Cpl. Attack has returned and has replaced me on watches. I have replaced
Sgt. George Ashley on day duty, and George has gone back to paperwork. I have a lot to do because I am the
only person on day duty. Myer has also returned so Cpl. Wain will be on day duties tomorrow and I will be
off to go to Douglas with the crowd from Cregneish to see the Navy equipment on Douglas Head. I have
wanted to get there for a long time. They are supposed to have some of the latest equipment. I got a letter
from Bill Colvard for the first time since he was sent overseas. He must be in the Solomon Islands now, and
he has been through some tough experiences. I answered his letter tonight.
Saturday, Mar. 6, 1943 - I had a most interesting day. Jack Boor and I, and a party from Cregneish
went to Douglas Head where we went through the Naval radiolocation station and saw their equipment. It was
chock full of such new things as Magnetrons. There was one transmitter there that put out 100 KW peak pulse
power and it was little larger than a suitcase. Some of the equipment was opened up and laid out on a long
table so that we could get a good look at it. A naval officer took us around and explained everything. Douglas
Head overlooks Douglas Bay and the Irish Sea to the east, so that it provides an excellent location for viewing
ships in the area. We were not told whether the station is there for operational purposes or as part of the development or training program. After the visit to the station, Jack and I went to see Lana Turner and Clark
Gable in "Somewhere I’ll Find You".
Sunday, Mar. 7, 1943 - I went to Douglas on the Victorian steam train, which is always an enjoyable
but bumpy ride. I met Mary and Mrs. Stevenson and told them that I would drop by to see them soon. Tonight
Mr. Fenton stopped by and I gave him the QST’s that I had borrowed. He invited me to visit him and I told
him that I would do it soon. It’s a pity that I can’t respond to all of the invitations that I get. Mrs. Cooil put
another pie in our room for us today. We would have had many hungry Sunday evenings without her thoughtfulness.
Monday, Mar. 8 1943 - The maintenance party for Wing is here. Jock Lamont, Tich Ferrer, Flt. Sgt.
Herd, Mr. Woodacre, Ben Hope, Mr. Kermode, and some others. Things will be somewhat disrupted until
they leave. We have had a few days of comparatively mild weather, but it has turned cold again. There were
some hostile aircraft over Liverpool today. We haven’t had many hostile aircraft in our coverage lately. The
primary purpose of the Scarlett CH station is to track hostile aircraft that attack the west coast of Britain by
coming in the "back door". Our plots, together with those from other stations, are fed to the Preston Filter
Room, where decisions are made and actions taken to give advanced warnings and to counter the attack. I had
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a lesson from Miss Duke today, and she said that I’m doing real well. Although it was apparent to me that I
was doing better, it was encouraging to hear her say that. I must also take into account the fact that Manx
people like to make kind remarks.
Tuesday, Mar. 9, 1943 – I saw McKinley today. He was here on the Island on leave from Nevin,
where he is posted. There is very little to do around here while the maintenance party is doing their quarterly
"sabotage". I mostly have to be around to provide assistance if they ask for it. It has been a while since I have
had mail from home. The days are getting longer, and soon I will have a lot of daylight after I get off work.
Also the weather will be better. I’m planning some things to do. I was told that beginning tomorrow, I will
have to stay on the site until 7 P.M. to do some maintenance that can’t be done while the Wing crew is working. However, this situation shouldn’t last more than a few days.
Wednesday, Mar. 10, 1943 - Mr. Woodacre from Wing gave a good lecture on IFF and ERM. We
have only had a few lectures from visiting Wing personnel since I’ve been here. I have figured up the amount
of money that I have saved since I began saving for college in 1940. Counting all that I have, both here and at
home, it comes to $1,124. That amount should be enough for two years at Auburn, which is a State college
with essentially no fees. I believe that by the time the war is over, I will have enough to cover the four years
that I think are required to get a B.S. degree in Electrical Engineering at Auburn (the Alabama Polytechnic
Institute), especially if I can get a part time job. I have some concern that the high school diploma that I received from the Hayneville High School in Lowndes County, Ala., will not be accepted for admittance because of the small amount of math and sciences that were taught. Perhaps if I continue my studies, I will be
allowed to take an entrance exam. I saw a good flick at the Cosy tonight. It was "Pied Piper" with Monte
Woolley.
Thursday, Mar. 11, 1943 - Today was my day off, but it was very cold and I decided to stay in and
study, listen to the radio, and practice the piano. I played all of the songs I’ve learned over and over until I
can play them by ear. It will surprise Miss Duke if I don’t forget them before my next lesson. The Wing
maintenance team says they will finish the quarterly maintenance on the Main station tomorrow, but it will be
about a week before they are ready to leave. I’ve been helping them, and Cpl. Arnold Wain is in charge of the
technical side of the station. I doubt that the maintenance crew spends as much time at other stations as they
do here on the Isle of Man where the food is better. Even though I complain about the climate here, it is generally better than at most places on the mainland, except perhaps we probably have more wind and fog here
because of the surrounding water. Although it is colder here on the Island than it is in the Bournemouth region, the northern areas of Britain, and especially Scotland, are much colder than here. The palm trees that
live here would not live in most parts of Britain.
Friday, Mar. 12, 1943 - I’m pleased with the way the piano lessons are going. Miss Duke says I’m
doing well. Actually, I’ve accomplished much of what I originally intended, which was to learn the fundamentals and determine whether I wanted to invest the time and effort needed to learn to play. Since I enjoy
both the lessons and the practice, I will continue the lessons as long as it is practical. If things change, as they
no doubt will, and it is no longer practical to continue, I know that I could take it up again at a later time. We
really have a shortage of mechanics. George Ashley is on leave. Since I am now helping the Wing maintenance team, Cpl. Arnold Wain has been in charge of the technical side of the station. Tomorrow, I will replace Cpl. Wain so that he can have the day off. George Fulton is also on leave, but I think he will return tomorrow. Bill Jones needed to take the day off, so I pulled his watch today, which was from 0800 hrs. to 1300
hrs. There was nothing to do, so I spent the morning studying math. I spent the afternoon working with the
Wing maintenance crew.
Saturday, Mar. 13, 1943 - George Fulton came back from leave today. He stayed at the Shaftesbury
Hotel in Liverpool and seemed to have had a nice time. One of the main reasons he went on leave was to visit
the U.S. Consulate and straighten out the mess that he got into when he let his passport expire. That reminds
me that mine will expire in about two months, so I will have to go to London and get it renewed for 6 months.
I got it renewed the last time I was in London, which was in November.
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Sunday, Mar. 14, 1943 - Cpl. Arnold Wain is now Sgt. Wain, and he is posted to Bride. That leaves
me as the senior radio mechanic at the station, except for George Ashley who is on leave. By now, I should
know how to run the technical side of this station. It seems that I have been here almost long enough to qualify as a Manxman. I still have the same uniforms that were issued me when I first got in the CTC. I have to use
the same uniforms for both work and dress, and they are beginning to show the wear and tear. However, I
can’t get another one until one of them falls apart. When we joined the CTC, we were told that our clothing
would be furnished. They didn’t tell us that we would have to wear the same clothing for the duration. George
Ashley will be back Tuesday after next. I will be glad when he returns, as I don’t like so much paper work.
George doesn't seem to mind it.
Monday, Mar. 15, 1943 - Today we received some new technical equipment. It had been damaged in
shipment, and a claim has been filed with the railway. The railway wants to inspect it to see the damage, but it
is classified stuff and they will not be allowed to see it. I wonder how that will come out! The Wing crew
handled all of this as the equipment was for them to install. It must have been the IFF that has been we were
supposed to get.
Tuesday, Mar. 16, 1943 - I had another piano lesson tonight, and Miss Duke has given me a book of
simple songs to use for practice. She told me that Theresa and Margaret Watterson, the daughters of the
farmer at the technical site, had been good students. We have found that our Technical Officer, P.O. Millership, is not a very friendly person. George Fulton, who is a very easy-going fellow, has had several run-ins
with him. Although I see little to like about him, he hasn’t given me any problems.
Wednesday, Mar. 17, 1943 - There hasn’t been much encouraging news from Russia or Africa. Of
late, there have been many rumors about the whereabouts of Hitler. Some sources say that he is dead; others
say he has gone crazy, and some say that he is on the Russian front. It is a fact that he hasn’t made any
speeches lately. He used to make them rather frequently.
Thursday, Mar. 18, 1943 - Today will essentially wind up the quarterly maintenance. Most of my
work is paper work now. I don’t like it, but I suppose it goes along with my promotion. I wish there were a
way that I could progress to the position of Technical Officer, because the T.O. delegates most of the paper
work to people at my level, and can take a broad view of the technical matters related to the overall station.
Since most of the Technical Officers have never had any practical mechanic’s experience, they really don’t
have much feeling for the mechanic’s job. I saw a good flick last night at the Cosy. It was "Priorities on Parade" with Jerry Colonna, Ann Miller, and Vera Vague.
Friday, Mar. 19, 1943 - No entry. –
Saturday, Mar. 20, 1943 - I got a letter from home today confirming that the last money order that I
sent had been received. The last one I wanted to send was not allowed.
Sunday, Mar. 21, 1943 - Jack became ill today, and I went by Dr. Stephens’ home and had him
come up to see him. He is going to have to stay in bed for a while. Dr. Stephens is a fine fellow. Jack’s illness
leaves me without enough mechanics to fill the watch list. I managed to talk Sgt. Wilson out of an operator
and put him on watch at the T block that is not in use. There is nothing he could do technically, but he can
meet the requirements that someone be in charge of the secret documents and be prepared to destroy them in
case of an invasion.
Monday, Mar. 22, 1943 - Sgt. Wain left today for his new post at Bride. We probably need him here
more than they need him. I have no idea who makes these decisions, or how they go about making them. Fortunately, George Ashley comes back Wednesday.
Tuesday, Mar. 23, 1943 - Flight Lt. Jacobs was here today from Wing and he talked with me. He
said that Wing has a good opinion of me. Perhaps he has received reports from the Maintenance team, or
maybe has heard of the modifications I made to the W/T R/T transmitter, which I'm told give our station the
best signal on the W/T net. I told him that I am quite satisfied being here at Scarlett. I hope that squashes any
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plan to move me. Mrs. Cooil is very kind to Jack. He is still sick and she prepares his meals and brings them
up to the room. I hope this kind of attention doesn’t delay his recovery.
Wednesday, Mar. 24, 1943 - My very good friend and former math teacher, Freddy Harvey, was
here today to make a "C" switch installation. He is a Flight Sergeant now. It was like old times when I asked
him a few trig questions. I had a very good piano lesson last night.
Thursday, Mar. 25, 1943 - One of the mechanics entered in the Main TX Block log that he had used
a case of ammunition to kill a mouse. He dropped it on the mouse.
Friday, Mar. 26, 1943 - No entry.
Saturday, Mar. 27, 1943 - When Flt. Lt. Jacobs was here he asked me to send some comments to
him giving a mechanics view of the technical aspects of the station and what might be done to improve the
efficiency. I was delighted to get that assignment, and wrote about 16 pages. I had to be careful not to say
anything that might detract from the Technical Officer’s role. It was turned in to the Technical Officer, who
was aware that Flt. Lt. Jacobs had asked me to write it. I really doubt that he will send it.
Sunday, Mar. 28, 1943 - Jack is back on duty now and we are better fixed with respect to mechanics.
We have a new mechanic, a Corporal, from Dalby. He seems to be a decent bloke. We have been staffing
Dalby for a long time, and now the powers that be have decided to send us somebody from Dalby. We
shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Wing sent Mr. Kermode back to check on the transmitter output. Mr.
Kermode doesn’t know why it was considered necessary, and said that he just follows orders. We check the
power input to the final amplifier during each watch by checking the plate voltage and current of the output
valves. The power output of the transmitter is checked from time to time and at any time there is an indication
of a possible decrease in power output. Mr. Kermode checked both MB-2 transmitters and found their power
output to be correct. Some of the test equipment that we have is very simple. There is no simple way to measure directly the peak pulse power. However, since the pulse repetition frequency and duration are known, it is
only necessary to measure the average power output of the transmitter, which can be done easily and quickly
using a grease spot photometer. The basic principal is that the power output of the transmitter is applied to a
high wattage light bulb mounted on one end of a relatively short baseboard. A calibrated light bulb is placed
on the other end. With the room lights turned out, a holder with a piece of paper having a small grease spot in
the middle of it is placed between the lights so that one side of the grease spot is illuminated by one light, and
the other side is illuminated by the other. The paper holder is moved along the baseboard between the lights
until the small grease spot disappears, indicating that the paper is equally illuminated on each side. Knowing
the wattage of the calibrated light bulb and the ratio of the distances of the grease spot from each bulb permits
the average output power to be easily calculated. Although not a precision device, it is quite adequate for the
purpose.
Primarily as a result of the wind, the transmitting aerial arrays can become damaged, such as broken
insulators, or broken or twisted feeder wires. It is difficult to detect such a fault by visual inspection because
of the height. Problems of that kind can be spotted because they affect the transmitter loading and the standing wave ratio (SWR) on the open wire transmission line. SWR tests are run whenever such a problem is suspected. When the operators observe that aircraft returns appear to be weaker than usual, the mechanic is notified so that checks can be made. The problem can be in either the transmitting or the receiving equipment.
The device to measure the standing wave ratio (SWR) on the transmission line consists of a small insulated
frame that carries a wire loop and a RF current meter to measure current in the loop. The frame has insulated
hooks that allow the device to be attached, but not electrically connected, between the two wires of the open
wire transmission line outside of the T-Block. The RF current that is induced in the loop is indicated on the
meter. A constant reading of the meter as the device is slid along the transmission line indicates that the SWR
is 1:1, which means no standing wave. If the reading changes appreciably as the device is slid along the
transmission line, the SWR can be determined by the ratio of the high and low current readings. A small
standing wave is normal, but a larger than normal standing wave is an indication of a problem with the aerial
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or the feeder system. We also use a simple instrument called a Megger to measure the leakage in the feeders,
concentric lines, and insulators. It is in a small case like a volt-ohmmeter, but has a crank that can be turned
by hand. When the leads are connected to two points that should be insulated from each other and the crank is
turned, a voltage of 500 volts d.c. is generated that causes a small current to flow through the leakage resistance. The instrument has scales that allow the leakage resistance to be read in megohms.
Monday, Mar. 29, 1943 – This morning, Technical Officer, P.O. Millership gave us an interesting
lecture on interrogating equipment. This afternoon, he and I went down to the D/F station at Red Gap to see
what can be done about the interference that our transmitting has been causing them. I told P.O. Millership
that I knew Mr. Banner, the manager of the station, and had had a very good tour of the facility at Red Gap,
and also of their transmitting facility at Ballahick, near Ballasalla. However, I was not aware that we had been
causing them interference. If it had been mentioned to me at that time, I would have looked into the problem
earlier. Mr. Banner gave us a friendly greeting and explained that although our interference is always present,
it mainly affects their operation when taking bearings on weak signals. Apparently, with more bombing raids
over Europe now, they are having more requests for fixes from bombers located out at the edge of their normal coverage. Mr. Banner made the station documentation available, and while I studied it, he showed P.O.
Millership the facility. The operator demonstrated the noise, which was quite loud. It must have been terrible
for the operators to have that sound continuously in their ears. The operator showed me that it was much
worse when they switched in the sense aerial. I disconnected the sense aerial from the receiver and found that
no noise could be heard with the sense aerial disconnected. I told P.O. Millership and Mr. Banner that it is my
opinion that a simple filter in series with the sense aerial just before it entered the receiver would eliminate
the interference. We probably have some parts in our junk box from which the filter can be built.
Tuesday, Mar. 30, 1943 - I designed the filter for the Red Gap D/F station using a fixed capacitor
and a trimmer that I found in the junk box. A coil form was also found on which I wound a coil. After the
components were connected as a parallel tuned circuit, I tuned it to our station frequency by placing it for a
moment at the signal input to the RF7 receiver. The trimmer was adjusted, and at resonance the high impedance made all of the signals on the operator's CRT display disappear. When it was finished, I took it to Red
Gap and installed it, and it worked perfectly. Mr. Banner and the operators on duty were delighted, and so
was I. Later today, P.O. Millership told me that Mr. Banner has called him and told him that he appreciated
what “we” had done for him.
"The Voice of Alabama" has been fixed up as well as I can with the parts I have been able to get. It
now gets a number of stations and sounds quite good considering the small speaker. The only thing that I
would like to change is the speaker. However, the small one does a very good job at low volume and that is
the way we should play it anyway. I received a Valentine from Teeny today. She is a sweet girl and I am happy that she has continued to write. I hope she enjoys my letters.
Wednesday, Mar. 31, 1943 - There is some talk on the grapevine about jobs available in Ireland with
Lockheed Overseas Corp. It is said that they pay upwards of $275 per month. All three of us wrote letters to
get more information. Perhaps it is not a reliable rumor. I know that I’m very satisfied here, and believe that
Jack and George are equally satisfied; however, we are concerned that something will happen without warning, such as a shutdown of the CTC. We could suddenly find ourselves out on a limb with no satisfactory options. It will cost us nothing to try to keep informed.
Thursday, April 1, 1943 - There was a good party at camp tonight, and I was told that it was to celebrate the 25th Anniversary of the RAF. It was a fancy dress affair, and some of the costumes were too funny
for words! Due to the clothing shortage, the costumes were everything from pajamas to old clothes borrowed
from local civilians. The C.O. came in a Chinese-looking uniform with beer bottle tops for pips and service
medals reaching all around to his back. Esmie Holden was blacked like a Negro. Don Crocker came dressed
in a cinema usher’s uniform. The WAAF officer wore a cook’s uniform with a big spoon hung from her belt.
Ted Paynter came with pajamas and a sun hat. One girl from Cregneish wore a hula-hula costume. It looked
very good on her, and needless to say, she was quite popular with the men. Quite a few pranks were pulled
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this morning, today being April fools day. George Fulton called me from the Main T Block and asked me to
come up and look at a piece of equipment. When I arrived there, after cycling along the seashore against a
cold, damp gale, I looked through the little peep window in the door and he was holding up a piece of paper
with "April fool" written on it! George, perhaps concerned that I didn’t appreciate the joke, wouldn't let me
in, so I went over to the R Block and warmed up with a cup of tea before making my uncomfortable way back
to Castletown. I was pretty peeved at first, but saw the funny side of it before George came back from the
technical site.
Friday, April 2, 1943 - I was off today, but as usual on my day off, the weather was awful. I spent
the day writing letters, reading, studying, practicing on the piano, and listening to the radio. Tonight I had
another piano lesson and was able to demonstrate to Miss Duke that I can play several of the simple songs,
and also can play the scales of "C" and "G major” quite rapidly using both hands.
Saturday, April 3, 1943 - I got paid yesterday, and it was over £31. I had figured it as £30/4/3, but I
was short before, so I guess I am about square now.
Sunday, April 4, 1943 - I’m enjoying the radio much more now, and not just because it is better. The
radio programs have improved tremendously since I first came here. There is much more popular music now,
and quite a lot of it is from the U.S.A. Mrs. Cooil is still doing her spring-cleaning, and I have been helping
Mr. Cooil to move furniture and rugs. She has hired a woman to help with the cleaning. Mrs. Cooil is famous
around town for her unusually thorough spring-cleaning. In spite of her spring-cleaning, Mr. and Mrs. Cooil
had us in for a light supper. They like to tell us about their Island, and we talked until nearly eleven o’clock.
Because of my reading, my many visits to the museum, my travels to historical spots around the Island, and
my talks with the Cooils, the Stevensons, Mr. Dehaene, Vernie Vanwell, and others, I find that I know about
as much about the Island’s history as some of the natives with whom I speak. The more I learn, the more interested I become. I wish I had more time to study Manx history and customs.
Monday, April 5, 1943 - The wind has been blowing steadily for several days. Now I understand
why there are not many trees around here. They have all been blown down! I took my semi-automatic telegraph key (bug) over to camp and showed it to Dick Haslam and Don Crocker. Although I had shown them
the one that I built last year, I wanted them to see my new one. Dick is the W/T operator for the station, and
Don had been through the W/T School, but neither of them had heard of a bug before they saw my homemade
one last year. They expressed amazement that anybody could send code as fast as one can with a bug, or that
anybody could read it at that speed. They seemed fascinated with it, so I left it in the hut for them to play
with. While killing time before going for a piano lesson, Dick Haslam and I were having a friendly tussle
when I suddenly slipped and fell, banging my forehead against the table. It really hurt and left a skinned place
and a knot that had grown rather large by the time I showed up at Miss Duke’s house. When Miss Duke
opened her door and saw the knot on my forehead, she almost fainted. She must have thought that someone
had beaten me up. I explained what had happened and assured her that it was really nothing, but the kind lady
continued to express concern to the extent that I didn’t get much out of my lesson.
Tuesday, April 6, 1943 - It has been a long time since I heard from Teeny, except for the Valentine I
received recently. She has promised to send me another picture of herself. She must have grown up a lot since
I last saw her. The application form for employment with Lockheed was received today. I understand that I
will be called in to London for an interview after my application is received. If I go, that will give me a good
chance to look into some of the other possibilities and also to talk face to face with CTC headquarters about
the future status of the CTC. Due to the present shortage of mechanics, I am back on watches.
Wednesday, April 7, 1943 - I sometimes wonder if I am studying the right things. Jack and George
are thinking of taking dancing lessons in Douglas. I have essentially no social skills. My dancing is very poor,
and I can’t play cards, checkers, or dominoes. I’ve never played a game of table tennis, which Jack often
plays in the common room. I do like to read good literature, especially historical books. My French studies
are lagging because I know of no one from whom to receive help, especially with pronunciation. There used
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to be several people at camp, including Vera Bradford, who were fluent in French, but they have all been
posted. I really miss Vera.
Thursday, April 8, 1943 - The war news is quite good now. The Americans and British have met
and joined forces in Tunisia and Rommel seems to be on the run. I believe we will soon see the end of the
African campaign. I mailed the application to Lockheed today. Jack and George mailed theirs a few days ago,
but have received no reply. We really don’t consider this a sincere application, as we are mostly testing the
water. Jack and George are now taking dancing lessons in Douglas. I considered it, but have no suitable
shoes, and no clothing coupons so that I could buy a pair.
Friday, April 9, 1943 - I haven’t been able to increase my savings much since I’ve been living out
because it costs so much to eat. I’ve ear marked some money for a raincoat, if and when I can get some clothing coupons. Perhaps I should ask around and find out if I could buy some coupons from someone who needs
money more than coupons. I often ride the lorry to the technical site rather than my bike because I’m afraid I
would get caught in a shower. If I had a raincoat, I would use my bike more often.
Saturday, April 10, 1943 - A letter from Teeny was received today, and I really appreciated it. She
told me a little about the folks in Letohatchie, and the happenings at Hayneville High School. She said that
she liked the music I sent and that there was no duty on it, as I had feared there would be. However, she
didn’t mention the picture of her that she said she would send me.
Sunday, April 11, 1943 - I spent the day reading, writing letters, studying, and listening to "The
Voice of Alabama". This evening, I went to the Cosy and saw a double feature. Both were quite good, and
one of them was a "Baby Sandy" picture. The war news is still good. I think it is possible that the Germans
could get caught in a situation that is as bad for them as Dunkirk was for the British. If so, the end result
would be worse for them, because they would not have the rescue capability that Britain had at Dunkirk. If
we get the Axis forces out of Africa, I believe the way will be open for an invasion of the continent, as Hitler
will have more coastline to guard than he can successfully defend.
Monday, April 12, 1943 - Some time between 1700 hrs. Friday and 1700 hrs. Sunday the Home
Guard is to make a mock invasion of Scarlett Point. All personnel must remain on site for a certain period,
and meals will be served from a field kitchen. Jack and George have learned that the time of the mock invasion will be 2100 hrs. Saturday. I’ve been thinking about that, and I can’t imagine how anything approaching
reality could be done. It will be a comedy. The Technical Officer has returned. We can expect the nonsense
level to increase.
Tuesday, April 13, 1943 - A letter was received today from CTC headquarters saying that Lockheed
needs technicians, and that members of the CTC desiring employment with them will be called to London for
an interview with their representative. To me, this is clear evidence that the CTC is working toward a rather
rapid termination of the organization. The CTC is even paying the expenses of bringing members in for interview. Present uncertainties about the future of the CTC require that some solution be found before much
longer. The Lockheed interview trip will provide an opportunity to check out some other opportunities. Maybe the CTC will convince me that the CTC will exist until the end of the war. That would be by far the best
solution. I also got a letter from my good friend Fred Nash (RCAF), who was posted to Wing in October. He
was one of our best men. He still likes his job.
Wednesday, April 14, 1943 - Today was my day off and I went to Douglas and saw Jack Benny and
Ann Sheridan in "George Washington Slept Here". I also went to the photographers and had some passport
photos taken for passport renewal purposes when I go to London for the Lockheed interview. After that, I
went through the Manx Museum again and saw Margaret Stevenson. Her family is doing fine. They are very
fine people.
Thursday, April 15, 1943 - I saw a picture at the Cosy featuring Geraldo and his orchestra. The music was very good, but the acting was awful, I mean really awful. It was an English production. I have been
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doing some reviewing of math lately just in case I am asked some technical questions at the Lockheed interview.
Friday, April 16, 1943 - The Home Guard mock invasion was called off, much to my happiness, as
I’ll not have to stay on duty for 48 hours. They probably decided that it doesn’t make any sense, especially
since the details of the exercise became known and there would have been no surprise element. The Technical
Officer, P.O. Millership is posted and I can’t say I’m very sorry. He is the first Technical Officer who was not
friendly toward me, or to anyone else as far as I know. George Fulton has told me several times that he didn’t
like him, and George likes most people. I had hoped that he would change his attitude toward me after I fixed
the interference problem at the Red Gap D/F station. I hope the next T.O. will be better. I haven’t taken any
pictures in a quite a while, and I now have several rolls of film saved up. With good weather hopefully coming up, I want to do some photography. There are many interesting things here to photograph.
Saturday, April 17, 1943 - I saw a pretty good flick at the Picture House in Douglas today. It was "Random
Harvest". By taking the early bus back to Castletown, I had time to take a bath before going to bed. The
ground war in Tunisia has slowed down again although there is a considerable amount of air activity there.
On the Russian front, the Russians don’t seem to be gaining, but they are holding. The war in the Far East is
difficult but is progressing. At the time that I came to Britain, the U.S. was not in the war, and there was a
great danger of an invasion of the British Isles by Germany. Without a base from which to operate, the U.S.
would not have been able to provide effective assistance, and a German invasion would have had a good
chance of being successful. Things look much better now, and I feel certain that we will win the war against
the Germans and Japanese. But when?
Sunday, April 18, 1943 - As usual, Vernie had a very good dinner today. Regardless of the weather
or whatever, eating the mid-day meal at Vernie’s home has made every Sunday a very good day. It is not just
the food, but also the treatment we get there. There is no way she could be any kinder to us. She treats us like
we are members of the family. I feel sorry for her mother, whose health is getting even worse, and I know that
Vernie is very worried about her. We again had supper with the Cooils and had a couple of hours of enjoyable
conversation after supper. Mr. and Mrs. Cooil seem to enjoy it as much as I do. I talked to her about the
quaint customs that are described in Dr. Clague’s book, "Manx Reminiscences". She remembers when they
were very common, and declared that they have not completely died out. Some Manx people are still very
superstitious and believe many of the things described in the book. The weather is now somewhat warmer,
and some trees are beginning to bud. Everybody is wishing for a good summer this year.
Monday, April 19, 1943 - I haven’t felt very well lately, and hope I’m not coming down with something. The watch schedule has kept me from getting sufficient sleep, and I feel sleepy most of the time. Mrs.
Cooil has two cute little dogs, "Nina" and "Bo Bo" that she dearly loves. I like them, too, but they have one
bad fault. They both have a very shrill yap. Often, in the daytime they stay out in the back yard under our
window, and whenever Nina lets out a string of shrill yaps, Bo Bo repeats it with excited enthusiasm, and
then the two of them yap together, and that can create quite a lot of noise. It normally doesn’t bother me, but
the combination of feeling bad and having the dogs shrill yapping makes it hard to get some rest during the
daytime. However, this is heaven compared with trying to get some daytime sleep in the RAF hut. Perhaps it
is the squirrel that sets them off. I haven’t seen but one squirrel on the Isle of Man, and it plays in Mrs.
Cooil’s back yard. It looks just like the grey squirrels we have at home. I can’t look at a squirrel without
thinking how good they are to eat. Mrs. Cooil calls it a "squiddle", and I sometimes talk to her about the
squirrel just to hear her say it. The high wall she has along the side and back of her yard is capped with glass
from broken bottles, but the squirrel runs harmlessly along the top at full speed. It must have a mate out there
somewhere. Note (Feb. 2000): Mr. Alan Cleary of Castletown informed me as follows: "There are no native
squirrels on the Island. The observed squirrel must have been an unusual imported pet. Quite a number of
species, such as toads, foxes and badgers, didn’t reach the Island after the last Ice Age before the Irish Sea
broke the land bridge to the European landmass. Native British squirrels are brown, but the American grey
squirrel was imported and released in the last century. It has been very successful and now very few native
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brown squirrels survive." End note. From our window we get a view of Mr. Cooil’s glass enclosed small
building that I would call a "greenhouse". Inside it is a large grapevine. She told me that every year, she hires
a man, who uses scissors to thin out the number of grapes in each bunch so that the grapes will grow larger. I
often regret that I didn’t acquire the typewriter the time that I made a deposit on one in Douglas. With it, I
could have written much better letters, and I could have kept a much better diary. I hate writing by hand.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Tuesday, April 20, 1943 - It was with mixed emotions that I
opened a letter from Lockheed and read that they are in receipt of my application and that an interview would
be arranged soon through CTC Headquarters. By coincidence, I also received today a letter from Floyd Harkcom at Bride expressing his curiosity about Lockheed and wanting to know if I knew anything. I will call him
and tell him what I know. My pen is beginning to leak. The one I brought from home wore out, and I bought
this one from George. Perhaps I will be able to find a good one in London that is not too expensive. I can tell
that spring is coming. Vernie is beginning to serve a green salad at the Supper Bar. Life is good! Fred Nash
had left his tennis racket with me to hold until he asked for it. I received a letter from him today and immediately mailed his tennis racket. I also mailed several sheets of music to Teeny.
#55 -- Mrs. Redm ayne, George Fulton,
and Cora Redm ayne at the Redm ayne
hom e on Douglas Street, Ca stletown,
I.O.M.
Wednesday, April 21, 1943 - I saw a couple of good flicks at the Cosy tonight. They were
"Went the Day Well?" and "The Devil with Hitler".
They were the best English produced movies I’ve
seen. George Fulton has a date with Cora Redmayne,
a very nice Castletown girl, to cycle over to Port St.
Mary. Cora is due to get married to a bloke named
Mike next week, and has already received a quantity
of wedding presents. I know Cora, and have a hunch
that she is having second thoughts about marrying
Mike and thinks that dating George would help her
to break it off. George has a fine personality that
draws girls like honey draws flies. When his current
girl friend gets posted, he has another one practically
the next day. I’ve studied so much algebra lately that
I’ve about gone nuts.
Thursday, April 22, 1943 - I’ve been thinking about the Lockheed possibility. It would be nice
to have a recommendation from a firm like Lockheed after the war. Perhaps, if I were good enough, I
could stay on with them. On second thought, I
wouldn’t want to drop my objective of going to school after the war. George has a date with Cora to go to
Douglas. I’m really curious about what is happening.
Good Friday, Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Friday, April 23, 1943 - I guessed right about
Cora. Her wedding is called off. She sure waited to the last minute to change her mind. Her wedding presents
will be sent back. Cora is a nice girl and is well known in Castletown. The photos I had recently made at a
studio in Douglas came back today. They are awful! If I send them out, everybody will stop writing to me.
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Saturday, April 24, 1943 - Vernie’s mother, Mrs. Vanwell, died today. She had been very ill lately. I
guess it is better than for her to live in the condition she was in. For a long time, she had been confined to her
bed most of the time with severe asthma. She always seemed to enjoy our stopping by her room and speaking
with her. She told us that she had told Vernie to feed us well. Recently, Vernie told me that she had used all
of her clothing coupons to buy some new clothes for her. She had become skin and bones. I guess it is not a
nice thing to worry about clothing coupons when the old lady is dead, but I have a good feeling for the value
of clothing coupons, and know that Vernie also wanted to buy some new clothes for her sister’s children.
When we went to see Vernie to express our sympathy, she seemed concerned that she would not be able to
provide the noon meal for us tomorrow. Vernie always thinks of other people. Vernie’s mother will be buried
on Tuesday. Although I’m not certain that I will be leaving soon, I've given some thought lately to the quantity of possessions that I have built up since I have been here. If I had nothing more than the books that I have
bought, I would have far too much, both in weight and volume. I also have a box full of correspondence,
sheet music, etc. And, of course, there is also my radio and my bike, both of which have given me much
pleasure. It makes me sad to contemplate leaving my friends and my possessions, but I feel that it is inevitable.
#64 -- Jim Farrior -- Photo taken at Dougl as,
I.O.M. 1943
Easter, Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M.,
Sunday, April 25, 1943 - What a rotten day for Easter! A
gale has blown continuously and I am on duty 8 AM to 1
PM and 6 PM to 8 AM. We continue to have a shortage of
mechanics, and that makes it more difficult to prepare
work schedules. Every time I pass through the entry hall at
Merton Croft, I admire Mrs. Cooil’s wonderful grandfather’s clock. It reminds me of the fine clock that my
grandparents had in their home when I was a boy. My
Aunt Josephine has it now. Often when I hear Big Ben
striking on the radio, I can hear Mrs. Cooil’s clock striking
at the same time. It was made on the Isle of Man and must
be very old.
Monday, April 26, 1943 - I went to see "Forest
Rangers" at the Cosy and met Cora, Mike, and Mrs. Redmayne. Cora has broken her engagement with Mike and he
was a real sad looking fellow. I spoke with them briefly,
but no mention was made about the state of affairs. The
Redmayne home overlooks Castletown Bay and is not
very far from "Beachview", the home of Mrs. Hardman,
from whom I originally took piano lessons. I have visited
the Redmayne home several times in recent weeks, and enjoyed talking with Mrs. Redmayne, Cora, and
Cora’s younger brother. I think she has an older brother, but I haven’t met him. When I heard that Cora was
engaged to be married I was surprised, because I felt that she was immature. I knew that she had taken a liking to George, but I can’t imagine that George would be seriously interested in her. Cora acts like a young
girl, and George is a very mature man. When I kidded George about Cora’s infatuation with him, he laughed
and said that she had even suggested that they could get along nicely on his salary.
Tuesday, April 27, 1943 - There are many Americans now in Britain, and I have heard some of the
complaints that they have about BBC programming. Generally speaking, BBC programming is pretty awful,
but mostly it just reflects subtle cultural differences. Another thing is that the American radio programming is
highly commercial, as it is paid for entirely by advertising. On the other hand, the BBC is a government or-
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ganization. In the last year, there have been more programs to suit the American taste, such as more American
musical programs, Bob Hope’s program, and the war news that has covered the activities of the American
armed forces. Today BBC struck back with a long program, frequently interrupted with fake "send in a box
top" advertising. I thought it was very funny, and it made a good point. The program was a form of kidding
and was obviously aimed at the Americans, because the type of humor used in the program itself was more
American than British. I still enjoy practicing the piano, and believe that I'm making some headway. If I
leave, it will be a pity to have to give it up. Vernie’s mother was buried today. George, Jack, and I sent flowers.
Wednesday, April 28, 1943 - I went through my things and threw away all unnecessary correspondence, etc., to make room for necessary things when I leave, if I leave. Once before, I had actually left the Isle
of Man believing I would not be back, but I returned in a few days.
Thursday, April 29, 1943 - Today, I saw Mr. Dehaene, who has been on vacation. He invited me to
go to the college to see some of the cricket matches. He is a fine man, and I have appreciated his friendship. I
thanked him, but neglected to tell him that I might be leaving soon. I got a letter from Noel Cragin, who has
just returned from London. He says that he heard that there are only 329 CTC men left now. He understands
that most of those who have left recently have gone to Lockheed at salaries ranging from $265 to $400 per
month plus all but civvy dress clothes. The Merchant Marine is paying a little over $300 per month, which
includes a war area bonus. I think that Cook and Cragin are going to go with Lockheed. The CTC had a maximum of about 1,000 men, and now less that one third of them remain. It seems to be a sinking ship. I 'm expecting to be sent to London any day now for an interview by Lockheed.
Merton Croft, Castletown, I.O.M., Friday, April 30, 1943 - George, Jack, and I received letters
from CTC Headquarters saying that arrangements were being made for our interview, which would take place
about May 10th. Jack is not satisfied with that date as Jessie is coming then. He has wired London to see what
can be done. The date suits George and me fine.
Saturday, May 1, 1943 - Back in July of last year, I lost my luggage when I went to Bournemouth
thinking that I would not be returning to the Isle of Man. I had feared that I would never see my luggage
again. However, I was lucky, and weeks later, after it had probably done some extensive traveling, it was returned to me. Today, I received a bill from the railroad for the charges! The bill had not been delayed, and
had been prepared recently. Since I was on official travel, the charges should have been paid by the CTC, but
I went to the station and paid them so I wouldn't leave owing money.
Sunday, May 2, 1943 - No entry.
Monday, May 3, 1943 - I received a letter from Richard J. Condon, Chief Engineer, Office of War
Information, U.S. Government, in which he states that his offices are employing radio operators and radio
engineers. The letter was dated April 12, and it was forwarded to RAF Nevin by mistake, or I would have
received it long ago. Dick Condon was one of the early members of the CTC. His serial number was 73. My
serial number is 149, George’s is 776, and Jack’s is 809. I remember having a conversation with Dick at the
Eagle Club in London on one of my trips. He did well for himself when he left the CTC because he has an
important job. His office is in the U.S. Embassy. I intend to talk with him when I go to London.
Tuesday, May 4, 1943 - George and I have decided to leave tomorrow morning. We applied for
leave until May 15th. Although P.O. Millership, the Technical Officer, has been posted, he has not yet left,
and he expressed his dissatisfaction. However, he approved our request without argument. I would not leave
at this time if I thought that our leaving would cause any kind of emergency, but we have had periods when
we had fewer mechanics than will be here after we leave. No matter how short we were, the T.O. never offered to do anything. The important thing is that he gave his approval, so we took our request to the C.O. I
really don’t know whether I have any leave coming, as it seems that I’ve had a lot of time off. Perhaps the
extra days I took when traveling on business and had no firm report date were not counted as leave. Anyway,
the C.O. approved our leave without any questions asked. If George and I had waited until receiving the or-
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ders from London, our transportation would have been paid by the CTC and our trip would have been official
business instead of leave. However, the Lockheed appointment is fixed, and we want to look into some other
possibilities before talking with Lockheed. Since I will be returning, I don’t have to face the problem of what
to do with my things until after I return.
George Fulton and I go to London to check out opportunities
Eagle Club, London, England, Wednesday, May 5, 1943 - The travel to London was uneventful,
and we checked in at the American Red Cross Eagle Club Dorm. It is not the same quiet, calm place that it
used to be when it was restricted to Americans in the British service. Now there is a totally different atmosphere. I didn’t see any CTC men or Eagle Club members -- only loud American soldiers. Those old days are
gone forever.
Eagle Club, London, England, Thursday, May 6, 1943 - This morning, we went to CTC Headquarters to check in and to tell them that we were in London on leave and also for the interview with Lockheed. They already had us down for an interview for Monday morning, May 10th, which is the date that had
been stated in the letter that had been sent us. The only information we could get out of them concerning the
future of the CTC was that they expected to continue until there were no members left to serve. That doesn’t
mean a thing, because the CTC can discharge its members whenever it chooses, and then there would be none
left to serve. We went to the Eagle Club at 28 Charing Cross Road, near Trafalgar Square, and found the situation very similar to that at the Eagle Club Dorm. We didn’t see anybody that we knew, but we did enjoy
having a coke, the first one in a long time, and a sandwich at the snack bar.
Friday, May 7, 1943 - George and I went to the U.S. Navy office in London and talked with them
about the opportunities in the Navy. They were interested, but said that the best they could offer us would be
a non-commissioned officer rank. They couldn’t tell us what rank, where we would be sent, or what kind of
work we would do. Based on our present knowledge, we decided that the Navy would be a pig-in-the-poke,
and therefore a last ditch choice. In the afternoon, we went to see the U.S. Army, and the response was very
similar to that received at the Navy this morning. At both the Navy and the Army recruiting offices, I was
disappointed by the fact that the highest-ranking people with whom we could speak were non-commissioned
personnel, who appeared to be disinterested clerical types. If there were an acute shortage of people with our
experience, I don’t think the personnel to whom we spoke would be aware of it. At this point, if I had to
choose between the two, I would choose the Navy, because all Navy ships are now equipped with radiolocation equipment. My experience would probably be more valuable.
Saturday, May 8, and Sunday, May 9, 1943 - Over the weekend there was no possibility of meeting
with anyone else, so George and I spent the time discussing our situation and visiting places of interest in
London. We stopped in the Eagle Club several times to enjoy a coke and a sandwich, but didn’t see anybody
we knew. It was crowded and noisy. We spotted only a few RAF uniforms. It is a totally different place now,
and we didn’t really feel at home there.
Monday, May 10, 1943 - The Lockheed interview was dismal. The person who interviewed us appeared disinterested and not very knowledgeable. We were offered $275.00 a month to work at the Lockheed
facility in Ireland. He could not describe in any detail what kind of work we would be doing. He said that it
might be possible that, after receiving training, we would be sent as Lockheed representatives to various bases
in Britain where Lockheed is providing support. The contract was very binding, and it seemed that they could
do just about anything they wished with us. It was strictly another pig-in-the-poke deal. Although the $275 a
month is a good salary, we learned that it is less than what people recruited in the States are paid. Their explanation for that was that they had to offer more in the States to induce people to come over, but we are already here. George and I both felt that we were not at all interested in the Lockheed offer
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We decide to join the Merchant Marine
Tuesday, May 11, 1943 - We decided to go to the American Embassy and get my passport updated
and see what Dick Condon had to offer. Dick’s office is at #11 Carlos Place, which is in the Embassy complex. Dick wasn’t in today but we learned from an assistant that part of the work that his office did, or would
be doing in the future, had to do with setting up an Armed Forces Network to provide entertainment to the
American forces. The work did not seem very interesting, and we were not told what the pay would be, but
we planned to return tomorrow to talk with Dick. The passport business was quickly taken care of, but while
we were there we decided to talk with the U.S. War Shipping Administration about the opportunities in the
Merchant Marine.
We talked with Mr. Walter K. Neill, of Recruitment and Manning, who told us that due to the large
number of merchant ships being launched (or perhaps sunk?), there is a critical shortage of Radio Officers.
The pay is $175.00 per month, plus 100% bonus in all places except when in ports in the U.S. Mr. Neill said
that a radio-telegraph license would be required, but that people with radio experience such as ours should not
have a problem passing the technical part of the license examination. It would take only a little study to learn
the rules and regulations. For those not knowing the code, they have already set up a code school in Glasgow,
at a place where merchant seamen wait for assignment to a ship. They have already made arrangements for
the test to be administered and a temporary license to be issued by the British authorities. An American license would be issued upon arriving in the U.S. Those taking the code training, or waiting for a license or a
ship assignment, would receive one guinea (21 shillings) per day, which is about $4.22 per day, plus room
and board. I have already had 4 years of experience as a professional radio telegrapher, so the code requirement doesn’t concern me. George believes that he could learn it quickly. Some can and some can’t. Anyway,
he is willing to give it a try. After thinking about it a short while, we decided not to bother talking with Dick
Condon, and told Mr. Neill that we would accept his offer. He agreed that we could complete our leave and
then return to our station on Saturday, May 15th. Then, after a couple of days to get our things together, we
will return to London, check out of the CTC on Friday, May 21st, and be ready to leave for Scotland on Monday morning, May 24th. He said that he would take care of all of the arrangements and we should come to his
office on Friday, May 21st to sign some papers and pick up our train tickets.
That was a rather hasty decision. In a period of less than two hours after meeting Mr. Neill, we had
made the decision to join the Merchant Marine. Although our future was largely unknown, I think both of us
had a feeling of relief to be able to make our own decision and not have something happen that would not
provide us with any options. We went back to CTC Headquarters, told them of our decision, and our plans.
They told us that they would contact our station and tell them to provide us with orders and transportation to
report to CTC Headquarters on Friday, May 21st for discharge. All of our personal business having been taken care of, we decided to continue our leave tomorrow morning and go to Birmingham to visit George’s aunt
and uncle, whom he had never seen, and then continue on to Stratford-on-Avon.
Birmingham, Stratford-on-Avon, Wednesday, May 12, 1943 - We caught an early train to Birmingham and went to visit George’s aunt and uncle who live in a badly bombed area of town. We enjoyed
several hours with them, during which time they told us something of their experiences during the many
bombings they had gone through. They, like many Birmingham citizens pronounce the name as though it
were spelled "Brum". Nobody in Britain pronounces it like we do in Birmingham, Alabama, where I was
born. We fully pronounce the syllables, and emphasize the last syllable, "-ham". They told us that to get to
Stratford, we should go to the "Bull Ring" and catch the "red bus". After the visit with them, we went to the
"Bull Ring", which is a old square surrounded by interesting looking historical buildings, all of which are
damaged, but some appeared to have survived the bombing without fatal damage. Soon the red bus came and
we were on our way through some of the most beautiful, scenic country I've seen in England. The day was
warm and sunny, which made it look even more beautiful. When we arrived at Stratford on Avon, I felt that I
had been transported back in time to the days of Shakespeare. The appearance of the town must be very similar to the way it looked back in his day. We tried several hotels, but all were full, so we went to the American
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Red Cross Swan Club, which is better than most hotels. We were in civilian clothing, but we showed them
our RAF identification and were allowed to register. What an interesting place. It is a very ancient Elizabethan style building that existed in Shakespeare’s time.
Stratford-on-Avon, Thursday, May 13, 1943 - I believe I enjoyed today as much as any day since I
have spent in England. The weather was fine, and we rented a canoe and paddled up the Avon to Shakespeare’s grave in an old church. We also visited his birthplace, and the home of his wife, Ann Hathaway. We
rented deck chairs and sat on the bank of the Avon and "took the sun", as they say in Britain. The register at
the White Swan showed that William C. Till, of Hayneville, Ala., had registered there on March 21. Hayneville is the town where I finished high school. Although it was a small high school, I can’t remember William
Till, so he must have been ahead or behind my class in school. Tonight we went to the Shakespeare Memorial
Theatre and saw "Midsummer Night’s Dream". Seeing it on the stage was much more interesting than reading
it, which I have recently done. I wish I could spend a few days here, but our schedule requires that we leave
tomorrow.
Blackpool, Friday, May 14, 1943 - We got up early and caught the train. We had hopes of making
Fleetwood before boat time, but it soon became apparent that we would not, so we decided to spend the night
at Blackpool. We had a good time at Blackpool, and I tried ice-skating for the first time. Although I was very
awkward and couldn’t trust my ankles, I did surprise myself by staying on my feet. Blackpool was a major
vacation center during peacetime, and people who have the time and can afford it still go there for vacations.
The centerpiece of Blackpool is a large high tower having a restaurant at the top. It appears somewhat like a
small version of the Eiffel Tower. There is much entertainment here and it would cost plenty of money to
make the rounds.
Castletown, Isle of Man, Saturday, May 15, 1943 - After the short train ride to Fleetwood, we
boarded the "Ben-my-Chree" for the trip home. We upgraded our tickets so we would have a comfortable
place to sit during the long ride. Crossing the Irish Sea is often very miserable, but today the sea was calm
and the sun was shining. We stayed out on deck part of the time. We spotted Ben Hope, a member of the
Wing Maintenance Team, and he told us that several others were aboard as well. They had all upgraded their
tickets so we joined them and had an interesting crossing. After hearing them talk, I even more convinced
than ever that the team takes every possible opportunity to go to the Isle of Man, and especially to Scarlett,
where they can enjoy much better food than on the mainland. That perhaps partially explains the excessive
amount of slowly performed maintenance that was often done by Wing mechanics at Scarlett. We told them
that we had just made a decision to join the U.S. Merchant Marine, and would be leaving in a couple of days.
They all commented that they couldn’t see how anyone would give up the life we had on the Isle of Man for a
life on the submarine infested ocean. When it was put that way, I had to agree that it didn’t make too much
sense. However, the situation is a little more complicated than that. The conversation turned to technical matters, and I suddenly realized that I would no longer be involved in the sometimes boring, but often very interesting work that I had done at Scarlett. As always when the weather is nice and the boat is nearing the Isle of
Man, we went out on deck to observe the details of the Island as they began to materialize against the mountain backdrop. Many noisy sea gulls were always on hand to welcome us back.
I remembered the first time I came to the Isle of Man. I stood on deck watching the scene unfold
without knowing what I would see. Now I felt that I knew the view like the back of my hand. We soon could
make out Douglas Head and the harbour with the "Refuge", a small castle-like structure on a small island in
the harbour, and the row of interesting old buildings facing the beach. It was peaceful and relaxing just to
look at the view. When returning to the Island after a trip, it had always seemed like I was going home. This
time, the feeling was even stronger, but I was saddened by the knowledge that I would very soon be leaving
to enter an entirely different existence. All of us went together to the train station and boarded the old steam
train for the ride to Castletown. At the Castletown station, George and I said goodbye to our old friends, and
they wished us the best of luck. We will probably need it.
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Sunday, May 16, 1943 - I can’t figure Jack. He had shown little interest in the efforts that George and I had
been making to find an alternative to just waiting for the CTC to close down. However, when we told him of
our interviews, and our decision to join the Merchant Marine, he took only a few minutes to decide that he
wanted to do the same. George and I had made a trip to London, had looked into the possibilities, and had
spent much time wrestling with the pros and cons. Without spending any time or setting his foot off the Island, Jack had accomplished the same result. Maybe he was just smart.
#71 -- Jessie Falconer and Mrs. Fred Cooil (Nellie) in front of the Coo il hom e, Merton
Croft, Castletown, I.O.M. -- Photo on May 16, 1943.
Jessie is here on a visit, and I don’t think she likes Jack’s decision one bit. Jack, like George, doesn’t
know the Morse code and will have to learn it before joining a ship. When we went for dinner at Vernie’s
house, she seemed genuinely saddened to learn that we were leaving. She had always worked very hard to
give us the best food she could find. She often prepared it in an American manner, which she was fully capable of doing. Vernie seemed never to think of herself, but was always doing things for other people. I am sad,
too. We stayed a while and talked with her. She told us that she had been saving her money so that she could
go to the U.S. after the war and open a shop of some kind. Whatever she decides to do, she will succeed. Note
(April 2000): Shortly after the end of the war, I received a letter from Vernie. She was still on the Isle of
Man, and had introduced the Island to American fast food. However, she said that she would leave soon for
the U.S. to open a store. I learned later that she did that, and took her niece Shirley Cooil with her to America.
At some point, Shirley returned to the Isle of Man. End note.
Most of today was spent trying to decide what to take with me. I will have a kit bag almost full of the
King’s clothing, etc., that must be turned in when I check out of the CTC. If they take my RAF kit bag, I’ll
have to buy one in London. Some of my personal clothing is worn out, and I will discard it, and most of
what’s left of my personal clothing, except for what I will wear, will go in my kit bag. That will leave room in
my foot-locker for things like books, personal papers, maps, photographs, my automatic telegraph key, etc.
With much pain and suffering, I culled the books down to about a dozen, not counting my two diaries. I’m
taking a book on algebra, a book on trig, three books about the Isle of Man, two electronics books, a set of
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two books on Mechanical Physics and Sub-Atomic Physics, Roget’s Thesaurus, and my French book. I especially hate to leave most of my collection of books about the Isle of Man. Aboard ship, I will have plenty of
time to study, and I can buy more books as I need them.
Monday, May 17 1943 - Jessie went back to Scotland today, and Jack is in a very sad mood. I wonder if Jack will ever be able to sort out his problems so that he and Jessie can get married. Jack's departure
from Britain as a member of the Merchant Marine would further complicate his situation. It seems to me that
Jack has not thought this through. I went to the office at Scarlett camp and found out that they had already
received a wire to the effect that George and I are being discharged from the CTC. Jack told them of his decision, and he was told that they would verify it with CTC headquarters, and if approved, they will issue Jack's
orders as well. The camp office staff has always been helpful to me ever since I arrived on the Island. They
have always done everything that I asked, and more besides. I said goodbye to them and thanked them for all
that they have done for us. P.O. Millership has gone to his new posting and no new Technical Officer has arrived. I was going to say goodbye to P.O. Millership a matter of courtesy. He had never been friendly to us. It
was probably just a personality trait. Although he had grumbled about some of my requests, he had always
approved them. Actually, he was not so bad, as he could easily have made my life very miserable.
There were a number of men and WAAFs in camp, and I went around saying goodbye to them. After
that, I rode my bike along the scenic Scarlett Road to the technical site and told everybody goodbye, including the farm family, the Wattersons, who had been kind to us, and had often supplied us with milk. As I rode
slowly back to Castletown enjoying the scenery, I really felt very sad to be leaving so many friends. When I
passed Miss Duke’s home at 49 Arbory St., I stopped in, said goodbye, and thanked her for suffering through
the piano lessons with me. She wished me well and said she hoped I would some day continue with the piano
lessons. Me, too. Note (2002): When I visited the Isle of Man in 1958, I stopped by to see Miss Duke. She
was standing outside her door talking with a friend. Although it had been 15 years since she had seen me, she
recognized me immediately, and asked about my piano studies. I had to tell her that although I had enjoyed
the lessons she had given me, I had not been able to continue formal lessons. I did, however, own a piano at
that time, and had practiced some on my own. End note.
I hadn't thought of Mr. Cooil as a potential buyer for my bike, but he offered me 6 pounds for it. I
was happy to let him have it. It is just like new, and I could have received more if I had taken it out to camp.
However, Mr. Cooil had let me keep the bike in his garage, and had taken me in his taxi to the airport twice.
Not only that, he and Mrs. Cooil had treated us like family all while we had lived at Merton Croft. I really
should have given it to him.
Tuesday, May 18, 1943 - My radio, "The Voice of Alabama", and the majority of my books were
sold for two pounds to a new airman at camp. That’s a small fraction of what they were worth, but I had no
way to carry them and didn’t have time to look for a better deal. All of my things have either been disposed of
or packed, so I am ready to depart early tomorrow morning. I feel real, real sad. This afternoon, Jack went to
the office at Scarlett camp and confirmed that a message had come through to issue him travel orders and
transportation, so all three of us have what we need. This evening, I went to the Supper Bar and had my last
meal there. Nearly every time I have been there, some of my friends were there. This time, I spotted several
from the Scarlett camp, some members of the Wing Maintenance Team, and a few local citizens whom I recognized. After eating a fine meal, I said goodbye to Vernie. It was sad to realize that I was seeing her for the
last time. I hugged her and wished her well. The attractive girl who cooks for her, Phyllis Kneale, also hugged
me. Phyllis would always let us know in a whisper when she had something special that she could cook for
us. Since we will be leaving early in the morning, we went down and settled with Mrs. Cooil. We gave her
our house keys, and I gave Mr. Cooil the garage key. All but one of the keys had been made by us using a
file. Mrs. Cooil has always acted like we were her children, and when we said goodbye there were tears in her
eyes. I felt the same way. Surely, it was a guardian angel that led us to Mrs. Cooil and Vernie. Note: On a trip
to the I.O.M. with my wife, Peggy, in Sept., 1994, I stopped by Merton Croft and visited with Mrs. Watterson, who had been Mrs. Cooil’s housekeeper, and had inherited the home. She and her husband, who died
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later, had originally come from Ramsey, and she says that to her knowledge, he was not kin to the Scarlett
farm family who are also named Watterson. The beautiful burlwood piano was in the same spot where it had
been in 1943. She said that to her knowledge nobody had played it in the meantime. I played one of the little
songs that Miss Duke had taught me. The action was in good condition and the piano was still in tune. She
took me up to the room that Jack, George, and I had occupied, and I observed that the greenhouse with the
grapevine was gone. She said that the greenhouse had rotted and had to be removed. End note. - Another
note: On a trip with Peggy in 1996, I stopped by Merton Croft to say hello to Mrs. Watterson, but found the
home empty. A man who passed by said that she had been become ill and had recently been taken to the nursing home at Beach View. Beach View is next door to Mrs. Jelley’s Bed and Breakfast (The Rowans) on
Douglas Street, where Peggy and I were staying. In 1942, Beach View was the home of Mrs. Vera Hardman,
from whom I had taken music lessons for a while. The man told me that it would be useless for me to visit
Mrs. Watterson, as she was very deaf and not well and would be unable to converse with me. End note.
We Leave the I.O.M. for London to Join the U.S. Merchant Marine
"S.S. Ben-my-Chree" -- London, Wednesday, May 19, 1943 - Since we are on official travel, our
friends in the office at the RAF Scarlett Camp provided us with lorry transportation to the pier at Douglas.
Together with our luggage, we were deposited on the pier near the gate, and we were soon aboard the "Benmy-Chree". As had been our custom, we upgraded our tickets for a small fee. Before the boat sailed, I stood
on the deck drinking in the familiar scene and thinking how attached I had become to the Isle of Man, in spite
of the awful weather that had often kept me from exploring more of it. It was sad to realize that I will probably never be here again. Many Manx people have been kind to me and have made my stay on the Island interesting and rewarding. I regret that there are many friends, like the Stevensons, that I was unable to see before
leaving. Some people are more subject to seasickness than others are. I have often made this boat trip, sometimes in very bad weather, and I’ve never been seasick. On the other hand, Mrs. Cooil used to feel seasick a
week before her trips, just thinking about it. The last time she went to Liverpool, she went by air. Maybe I
have a fair chance of becoming a good sailor. This time, the sea was relatively calm, and we had a very enjoyable crossing. We left Fleetwood promptly and had a very nice ride to Preston, where we changed trains.
The bright green grass, the wild flowers, the hedgerows, the grazing sheep, and the stone walls and old stone
houses made the scenery like a moving art show. I could never tire of traveling in Britain. Although we are
dressed in civilian clothes, we are still in the CTC and have our RAF identification passes. When we arrived
in London, we went straight to the Eagle Club Dorm and were lucky to get a bed. The place is more crowded
now, and the beds are very close together. Bob Gammon (CTC #818) is also staying here.
London, Thursday, May 20, 1943 - Early this morning, we went to CTC Headquarters and reported in. We
were given a few clothing coupons so that we could buy any civilian clothing that we had to have. They told
us that tomorrow morning we are to go to the Air Ministry Unit, 77 Hallam St., London W.1, and turn in our
uniforms and other clothing and equipment that we had been issued. Everything that I have that belongs to the
King is well worn. Our final pay settlement will be made tomorrow after they learn what, if any, items we are
short. We will then be given our CTC discharge. We went over to the American Embassy to see Mr. Neill at
the War Shipping Administration Office. He said that he needed as many Radio Officers as he could get, and
Jack was included without any questions. We were issued our transportation to Glasgow and were told that
we would use our U.S. passports as identification until we arrived in Glasgow, where we must get an Alien’s
Certificate of Registration. Strangely, we did not sign anything, nor were we given anything indicating that
we were members of the Merchant Marine. Tomorrow will be a busy day for us.
Note: (July 2000): Note: (July 2000): If Jack had gone with us to London and had gone next door to the Embassy and had talked with Dick Condon at that time, he never would have considered the Merchant Marine,
and all of his problems and uncertainties would have vanished. He would have obtained immediately a well
paying job that was ideal for his qualifications, and marrying Jessie would have been a near term possibility.
But such is life. Read on. End note.
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Discharged from the Civilian Technical Corps
London, Friday, May 21, 1943 - After we had breakfast, we went to the Air Ministry Unit and
checked in all of the King’s stuff. My two uniforms were the same ones that were initially issued to me, and
they really showed the wear. They had served as both my work and dress uniform. If I had been short anything, I’m sure I would have been charged for it, but can’t believe that those uniforms, and other clothing
items will be reissued. They might reissue my respirator (gas mask), which I was often required to carry
around with me everywhere I went. The only items I was short were some socks and underwear, which I had
discarded, but they didn’t ask for those. I remember how at kit inspection at Scarlett, I would loan out some
of my things to airmen who were short.
We were given certificates to take back to CTC Headquarters that indicated that we had no shortages.
By the time we had finished, it was time for lunch, so we went to the Eagle Club and got a snack. After lunch,
we went to CTC headquarters and checked out. When we received our final pay, I really wondered if I got the
correct amount. I had no way of knowing. When we were issued our enrollment certificates in Canada, we
were given large, beautiful, hand lettered certificates on fine parchment paper worthy of being framed. In
contrast, our discharge certificate is a typed, hardly readable, mimeographed form on a small sheet of very
poor paper. It gave only our names, CTC number, rank, a statement that our service had been satisfactory, and
the date of discharge. When we walked out of the door, a strange feeling came over me. Since I have no uniform, and my RAF identification is good only until midnight, I really feel like an alien. I’ve never felt this
way before. At the Eagle Club Dorm, I wondered if they would kick us out if they knew our status.
When we went to our bunks, we discovered that while we had been out today we had been robbed!
All of us had left our luggage under the bed, as we had always done at the Eagle Club. My locker had been
opened and my treasured camera, which I had bought the first time I was in London, had been stolen. Also
gone were the army slacks and the two army shirts that my mother had sent to me from the U.S. Although I
have owned several cameras, this was my first high quality camera. The camera contained a roll of film that
was nearly completely exposed. The thief also took several rolls of unexposed film that I had saved. The loss
of the slacks and shirts leaves me very short of clothing, because we were given only a few clothing coupons.
George’s Gladstone had been cut open, and he had lost a few things. Bob Gammon’s case had been broken
into, and he had lost more than £50 worth of jewelry. We went upstairs to see the manager, who had us come
in and sit in her parlor. She is an American woman living in a spacious flat that has been created from an area
that had previously been a dorm that held a number of beds. She is really living in style, with beautiful furnishings that appear to be antiques. I was already angry about having had my things stolen, and seeing her
living in such splendor did nothing to help my disposition. She said that we were not the first to have had this
problem. In that case, why were we not warned? The police were called, and in a short while a Bobby appeared, took some notes, and left. I don’t expect anything will come of that. I really am very distressed over
losing my camera. It had not occurred to me that we might be robbed. At both Cranwell and Scarlett, and previously at the Eagle Club, I had never been concerned, and had often simply hung my camera on a hook by
the bed without even thinking that it might be stolen.
This concludes the CTC related diary entries. Part II, containing my Merchant Marine service,
will begin after the following material that relates to the CTC.
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What became of George Fulton, Jack Boor, and Harold Wright?
About George Fulton
George Fulton had been very quick to learn the International Morse code, and after a few months at
Glasgow, he was assigned to a ship as Radio Officer. He remained in the Merchant Marine until the end of
the war. He then went back to Bend, Oregon, and continued in the furniture business, in which he had been
involved before the war. He stayed in that business until he became nearly blind and retired a good many
years ago. I've not seen George since June 7, 1943, when I left Glasgow. Once, in 1962, when I was traveling
with my family to the World Fair in Seattle, Washington, we passed through Bend, Oregon, and I stopped by
his home to see him. However, he was on a scouting trip with his son. I did meet his wife, Miriam. In recent
years, I have talked with George by telephone from time to time. On May 21, 2000, I had a long conversation
with him about our days on the Isle of Man. He said that he had his 88th birthday on May 10th, and that he is
in good health except for his extremely poor eyesight, which prevents him from reading or watching TV. His
mind is sharp and his memory is good. We enjoyed talking about our experiences on the Isle of Man. At
Christmas, 1999, I received a nice letter from the Fultons containing the two photos below:
#86 -- This photo of George
Fulton, age 88, was taken in
Decem ber 1999, at his hom e in
Bend, Oregon, where he and
his wife Miriam lived. H e was
nearly blind, and coul dn’t
read or watch TV, but his
mind was sharp.
Note (26 Jan. 2001): Sad
news. I had talked with George Fulton
from time to time on the phone, and
did so recently. He told me that he
was doing fine. I was surprised when
Miriam called me a few days ago and
said that George had cancer of the
liver and did not have long to live. It
had been found during a routine examination. She said that George had
felt no symptoms, and did not believe
the diagnosis. For a Christmas present, I had sent George a copy of a
draft printing of my "WW-II Manx
Experiences", hoping that he would
comment on it. Miriam told me that
she and other family members had
nearly finished reading it to him, and
that he was enjoying it very much.
Later, another call from Miriam gave
me the sad news that George had died
on January 24, 2001, in the hospital at
Bend, Oregon, very shortly after he
had been taken there after complaining of pain. End note.
188
#90 – George Fulton’ s Fam ily – The note on the back of this photo reads: "Our 50t h
Anniversary -- Our granddaughter Michele, our son Greg, George, Miriam , our young
granddaughter Taylor, our daughter -in-law Margaret, our gran dson Steve, our older
son Clark."
About Jack Boor:
Jack Boor found the code difficult to learn when he was at Radio Officer School at Glasgow, and after several months of trying with little success, he went to work for the U.S. Office of War Information
(O.W.I.), headquartered at the U.S. Embassy is London. He worked for Dick Condon, who had also been a
CTC member. I visited Jack in his office in London in Feb. 1944, when my ship was docked at Hull. He had
just the week before married Jessie Falconer, to whom he had been engaged since our days together on the
Isle of Man. He had a successful career with the O.W.I. until the end of the war. His previous professional
experience had been in broadcast radio. At the O.W.I., he was responsible, among other things, for installing
small Armed Forces Radio Net broadcast stations in the U.K., and on the continent after the invasion. The
stations were for the purpose of supplying entertainment and information to service men and women.
189
#97 -- Jack Boor sent m e this photo in 1987, when he was 68 years old. This shows him
at the keyboard of his Apple IIe com puter , which e nabled him to send and receive
Morse code signals autom atically over his am ateur radio tran sceiver.
After the war, Jack and Jessie settled in Seattle, Washington. He learned enough Morse code to get an
amateur radio license (W7PJH), but he never became proficient. However, until his death, he was very active
using the microphone. Once when I was in Guatemala on an archaeological dig and had taken my small amateur rig into the jungle with me, I was surprised to hear Jack calling me in fast code. I replied, and he told me
that he was using a computer program for his Apple IIe computer that automatically displayed what I was
sending on his monitor and sent whatever he typed at whatever speed he selected. Unfortunately, communication was not ideal because his computer couldn't read very well through the interference that is usually always
present on the amateur bands. In 1962, on the trip when I had tried to visit George Fulton, we visited Jack
Boor, Jessie and their young son, Fred, in Seattle, Washington. That was the last time I saw Jack. We had
stayed in touch through the years, and we often exchanged audiotapes instead of writing letters. He and Jessie
lived in Seattle until Jack's death from brain and lung cancer on Feb. 29, 1996. At that time, Jessie was terminally ill from a variety of ailments, and in spite of his illness, Jack had continued to take care of her. I received a letter from Jack a few days before he died. He sent me the partial diary he had kept during part of the
time we were on the Isle of Man. When Jack died, Jessie went to a nursing home.
190
About Harold Wright
Hal was stationed at the RDF station at Bride, I.O.M. while I was stationed at Scarlett Point, and he is
mentioned a number of times in my diary. He is shown standing beside me in the photo taken of CTC radio
amateurs who were at the RDF school at Cranwell, Lincolnshire. That photo was published in the January
1942 issue of QST. In the October 1997 issue of QST an article appeared concerning my computer program
about telegraphy named "The Mill", and Hal saw it and sent me an e-mail. He was living in Rockville, Md.,
with his wife Ann. He told me that he had left the CTC on March 22, 1943, and had gone to work with the
OWI in London, the same organization headed by ex CTC Dick Condon, that Jack Boor had joined after he
had given up on learning the code in Glasgow. In late October 1997, Hal and Ann moved to Scottsdale, AZ,
and we lost touch. However, in November 2000, we reestablished e-mail contact, and I have enjoyed his accounts of his interesting career after he left the CTC. Hal is three years older than I am.
Post War Letters from the Isle of Man
About t he Isle of Man Letters w ritten to Jim Farrior
While serving in the CTC From October 1942, until May 1943, Jack Boor, George Fulton, and I were
billeted at "Merton Croft", the fine home of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Cooil (Nellie), located on an up-scale street
named "The Crofts" in Castletown, Isle of Man. It was a place where we could rest, read, write letters, and
study. I could even practice piano. We ate out meals at a local restaurant named "Ann's Supper Bar", owned
by Vernie Vanwell, except for the Sunday noon meal, when we ate at Vernie's home. We were on our own for
the Sunday night meal, but the Cooils often had us in for a snack. Although I liked many aspects of the camp
life, the difference between Merton Croft and Vernie’s food and the RAF hut and mess hall seemed somewhat
like the difference between heaven and hell. Actually, we had the best of all worlds, because we still could
spend time at the hut and in the common room at the camp. In addition, we could attend the frequent parties,
called "shaky-dos", that were held in the common room.
The Cooil's and Vernie were fine people, and after the war I received letters from Nellie Cooil until
shortly before she died. Vernie wrote to me 1947, just prior to her departure for the U.S. When I was sorting
through my old papers a few years ago, I found one letter from Vernie and nine letters from Nellie. Also
found was a letter from Amelia Cooil, who was Vernie’s sister. In 1958, when I attended a conference on
space travel in Amsterdam, I took the opportunity to visit the Isle of Man. While there, I stopped by Merton
Croft several times and had nice visits with Mrs. Cooil. I took a photo of her in front of Merton Croft. Vernie
had moved to the United States and had died there, probably in 1960. She had closed the Supper Bar shortly
before she left. However, the Vanwell Fish Market downstairs from the restaurant continued to be run by
Vernie’s brother Arthur Vanwell and his wife, Kathleen, and in 1958 I took a photo of them in front of the
fish market. At some point in time, the Mona Café had been opened next door to the fish market, and it utilized the same upstairs rooms that had been used by the Supper Bar. I ate there during my 1958 visit.
On June 6th, 1947, Vernie Vanwell wrote to me saying that she had closed Anne’s Supper Bar and
would be moving soon to the United States. I don’t remember hearing from Vernie after that, but I have heard
since then that she was quite successful in running a dress shop in New York.
On Dec. 6th, 1950, Mrs. Cooil wrote that Fred Cooil had died Aug 5th, 1950. She said that if he had
lived another month, he would have been 82. That indicates that he would have been born in 1868 and he
would have been 75 in 1943, when I last saw him. On Dec. 15th, 1951, Mrs. Cooil wrote that she would be 79
in May, which indicates that she would have been born in 1872, and would have been 71 in 1943. The last
letter that I received from Mrs. Cooil was dated March 31, 1960. That letter confirms that Vernie Vanwell did
go to America after the war, and that her brother, Arthur, had taken over the Fish Market, which I knew from
my 1958 visit. Also, at the time of the letter, Vernie wanted to retire (and return to the Isle of Man), but she
was too sick to travel. Vernie must have died shortly afterward, without returning to the Isle of Man.
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#143 Mrs. Nellie Cooil, age 85, standing before Merton Croft in 1958 when I visited
her. Her home was in excellent condition, inside and out. Her beautiful piano that I had had
repaired and tuned, was still working fine. She seemed to be somewhat feeble, but her mind
was very sharp. She took me up to the room where George Fulton, Jack Boor , and I had lived,
and told me a lot about what had happened on the Isle of Man during the 15 years since I had
left. Many of the people that I had known had died. It was a very nostalgic visit.
The letter from Mrs. Amelia Cooil, Vernie’s sister, dated Aug. 16, 1983, was in reply to a letter that I
had written to her after my wife and I returned from a visit to the Isle of Man. On that visit we happened to
meet Amelia Cooil, Vernie Vanwell’s sister, at the Nautical Museum in Castletown. In her letter, she said that
Vernie was 61 when she died in America, but didn’t say what date she died.
Since Mrs. Nellie Cooil’s letter indicates that Vernie probably died shortly after March 31, 1960, and
Mrs. Amelia Cooils letter indicates that Vernie was 61 when she died, she would have been born about 1899.
She would have been about 44 when Jack, George, and I saw her last in 1943.
The Phyllis mentioned in Amelia’s letter was Phyllis Kneale, a young lady somewhat older that I,
who was a cook and waitress in Anne’s Supper Bar, and after the war she was a cook at the school that was
built on the site of our camp, initially making use of the camp buildings. Phyllis and Vernie were very kind to
us at the restaurant, and often fixed us things not on the limited menu. I saw Phyllis in 1958 when I visited
Castletown. Phyllis is high on the list of those who were kind to me when I was there during the war. She is
now deceased.
192
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior (enclosed with a Christmas Card)
Dec. 17, 1946, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Just a wee line to wish you all the best for the festive season. I have not had any
news from you in a long time. I hope you are enjoying life in your particular sphere, and not unduly troubled
by the "ups and downs" of the present worries. We have bread rationing, but we are much better off than
most. We have plenty of milk, eggs, meat, etc. I have today just had a card from Jack, in Montana. I was disappointed that no letter was enclosed. I have not heard from George for a long time. During the summer, Cora
Redmayne was trying to get a passage to your country to marry George. I quite thought that George was engaged to Ruth. All of the forces have now departed, and "the powers that be" are going to convert the camp's
huts into dwellings for the wanting families. I close with love and all good wishes for Christmas and the New
Year, when it comes, in which my husband joins. Yours very sincerely, Nellie Cooil
A letter from Vernie Vanwell To Jim Farrior Jan. 6, 1947, 10 Mill St, Castletown, I.O.M
My Dear Jim, Your card came today and I was so pleased to hear from you once more. Mrs. Redmayne gave me news of you some months back. Cora still writes to George. Do hope Jim you are doing well
now you are back home and that your family are all well. I closed the Supper Bar last August, as I was all set
to come to America 9th of September, and then everything went haywire, but I do hope to come in March.
Castletown is back to prewar now. Sometimes down town you only meet the cats. Hard to think that you boys
were ever here. Scarlet Camp is being turned into a High School to open in April. That is something badly
needed, so all is not wasted. It has been empty since the RAF left. Phylis is home with her father. He has been
ill for a long time. Now my brother is married and lives in the Café. You wouldn’t know it now, it is so nice.
He married a girl from Yorkshire, and very nice too. She went to hospital on Xmas Eve. It was hard luck, but
she is getting better. Do you remember Eillen (my sister)? She is going to have another baby (Nelson is 8),
but if it’s another boy, Harry is to take it to sea with him. So, if you hear of an English ship leaving a baby
over in Norfolk, you will know where it came from. England was a good place to be away from this year. The
weather has been the worst ever. It has been the rainiest, Jim, steady from last Jan. to this Jan. without stop.
We shivered all summer. Even the children never got on the shore this summer. Nancy went to London early
last year and bought a few dresses to wear in the summer and they never came out of the papers. I gave most
of my clothes away in August, dreaming of a shopping spree in New York, so I have been left with just one
change of clothes as I spent all my coupons. Believe me, Jim, it hasn’t been a bit funny. The Bank of England
divides your money in four and gives you so much a year. I get L75 to come with and then L600 for 4 years,
but one payment is made as soon as you land, but I believe that the exchange is very poor. I have made no
plans yet, but if I only come to America and go right back, I must go. To be honest, I think I would be much
better off if I did stay at home, but I know too I would never be happy if I didn’t come so there it is. Are you
married yet, Jim? I am sure you had a girl back home? Please write me a few lines and tell me how things go
with you. I have never forgotten you, and think often of you all. I did see Jack once in London, but he was
with friends and I didn’t like to speak. When I come to America I will be c/o Mrs. G. G. Kind, 63 Roseneath
Ave., Newport, RI, and I do hope one day we might meet again. Father is smart and doesn’t mind a bit that I
am going away. Dorothy is married and lives in the South of England. A couple of fellows from Scarlett came
in last summer to lunch. They were demobilised and it was like old times to listen to the talk. Well, so long,
Jim, and I can’t tell you how pleased I was to have your card. All the very best, Jim, to you and all your Family for 1947.
Love, Vernie
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 8, 1948, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, You will be surprised to get a line from me after all this long time I have just found
your address, having mislaid it, so I thought I would once again contact you. How are you! Are you still living at this address, and what are you working at? Do please excuse all these questions. We talk about you
three very often, and recall events of your stay here with us. I hope things are going well for you, and some
193
measure of prosperity. We are both getting along nicely. My husband had his 80th birthday in September. He
still drives his car, and cultivates his garden. You would not see much difference in him, and he does not look
his age. I have not been too good. I had a bad "do" during Easter, and lately I had a poisoned hand, my right
hand, too. But at the moment, I am quite good. I have a woman coming in to help me once a week. She does
the "turning out" business. Do you hear at all from Jack and George? Jack had occasion to contact the Post
Master here a few weeks ago, and he sent me a message by the Post Master, which I was very pleased to get. I
am writing him a line, too. Just now, I have not got George's address, or I would write him, too. Cora Redmayne is still single, and is doing some job in London, but she has a peep home frequently. You will have
heard of her brother's decease some two years ago. I close with love and all good wishes for Christmas and
New Year, in which my husband joins. Nellie Cooil
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 6, 1950, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Just a line to wish you all the best for Christmas. You may not know that I lost my dear husband on Aug 5th. Ever since last Christmas he has been in and out of hospital. He had three operations and
suffered agonies of pain, all to no purpose. I miss him terribly. More, as time goes on. We were always together, and life without him seems just a blank. We had been together for 55 years, and you can realise the
dreadful heart break. He was 82. I have many good friends who keep in touch with me and the two dogs. I
still have the car, and a niece’s husband drives for me. (I'm too old to learn now.) I hope you got your appointment and that you are happy in it. I had a line from Jack last Christmas, and he said that George was
married and a baby was expected about the time he was writing. There are many changes in and around here.
They have made your camp into a fine school for pupils over 11. I believe about 300 boys and girls attend.
There are night classes for the various Arts and Crafts. I see Mrs. Redmayne often. Cora and Sammy are both
in London. Cora is attached to some Art School and is doing extremely well, too. Miss Duke is still teaching
music, although her health is not good. I close with every good wish to your and your family.
With love from yours sincerely, Nellie Cooil P.S. If you have a photo, I would like one, if I may.
N.C.
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 15, 19,Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Here we are again approaching the end of another year with its numerous "ups and
downs". I hope you have had more ups than downs. How are you? I hope, well and prosperous in spite of the
world unrest. No place is free from difficulties and the outlook is far from promising. I am still rubbing along,
doing the best I can. My health could be better (I have high blood pressure) and I am obliged to go carefully. I
am fortunate in having a good woman, who comes most days to clean, do the shopping, and every now and
then the lawn. She has been coming for about 8 years, so we know each other alright. I still have the two
dogs, but Nina is failing. She is stone deaf, and almost blind. She has her cushion on the floor, and I treat her
just like a baby. She sleeps a lot, and when she wakes, I just carry her out. I don't think she has any pain other
than walking into things. I do think hard of putting her to sleep. Bo-Bo is getting on for 10 (Nina is 15) and is
a real pal and never leaves me. I appreciate his company, I assure you. I feel very lonely at times, but I am
thankful for good friends and interests. I do not go out much except in the car. A niece's husband drives me. I
am expecting my sister and her husband from Liverpool next Friday to spend the Christmas holidays with me.
I am looking forward to their company. I had a letter from Jack and Jessie this week, but have had no news
from George for ages. I hope he and his family are well, and I trust yours is likewise. I close with every good
wish for now and the New Year.
My warmest love to you both. Yours very sincerely, Nellie Cooil P.S. If I am spared until May, I will
be 79. N.C.
194
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 10, 1952, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Just a line to wish you and yours the very best for Christmas and the New Year. I
had a letter from Jack this week, and he mentioned something about you moving, so I am addressing this to
be forwarded. I was so glad to get a line from Jack and Jessie. I often think about you three, and the happy
times we had while you were with us. I feel very lonely at times since I lost my husband in August 1950. I
miss him more as time goes on. I had a bad illness in July this year. My doctor was afraid I would not recover, but thanks to good nursing by my lady helper, I am fine again. An artery burst behind my left eye, and the
shock and the pain affected the nerves of my stomach and nothing would stay down. I was very ill for several
weeks. The sight of my left eye is quite gone, and my right one is not good, so please excuse writing. It is so
difficult to focus with one eye. You will remember Nina, our terrier. We had to put her to sleep during the
spring. She was 15 1/2 years and went deaf, then blind, and it was unkind to let her suffer so. She just walked
into furniture and things. Bo-Bo still misses her, and each morning, she goes to her chair to see if she has
come back. Bo-Bo is my only company now, and goes with me everywhere. I have many good friends who
come in and one of them drives the car when I want to go out. My husband got, in 1948, a new Vauxhall. I
have not heard from George for ages. Do you contact him at all? Give him my love if you ever do so. I meet
Mrs. Redmayne sometimes. She, too, lives alone. Cora is a dress designer for a firm in London, and I believe
doing very well. Sammy is serving for an Architect, also in London. His health is not good, which is a handicap. We have had very cold, frosty, foggy weather for quite a while, but this week is much milder. I can do
with the warm weather, but not with the cold. I shall be glad to hear from you when you have time. My dear
love to you and yours, now and always. Sincerely, Nellie Cooil
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 8, 1955, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, It is some time since I had any tidings of you, so I am writing to wish you all the
very best for Christmas and the New Year. I hope that you and your family are in good health and enjoying
full time in your profession. I had quite a long letter from Jack and Jessie in August. They are living at Seattle, Washington, where Jack has quite a good job in T.V., quite the best he has had up to the present. The little
boy is growing into a fine bright lad and is a joy to them. I am always pleased to hear from them. George has
quite forgotten me. My health is not very good. Time is beginning to tell. I shall soon be 83. The sight of one
eye is quite gone, a burst artery, and I suffer a lot from arthritis in my knee. I just have to limp about and I
never go out alone. I still have Mrs. Watterson. You will perhaps remember her coming in to clean, and she
and her husband are very good to me. So I have much to be thankful for. I enclose a photo taken by my great
nephew during the summer, while I was in Douglas having treatment for my knee at the hospital. It is only an
enlarged snap taken in their garden. Here we had a lovely summer and autumn, and even now, it is not awfully cold for early December. I close with love and good wishes to you all. Very sincerely yours, Nellie Cooil
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
Dec 12, 1956, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Just a few lines to wish you and yours the compliments of the season, and all other
good wishes. My thoughts go out to the pleasant times when you were here. Many changes have taken place
since then. I was pleased to learn that you had now a second daughter. I do hope they, and you, are well, and
also Mrs. Farrior. I have just been writing to Jack and Jessie. They have one son, Fred. They have moved to
Seattle and Jack's mother followed them there and lives fairly near to them. In their last letter, they told me all
about their vacation, two weeks, but at separate times. They have quite a big garden and Jessie does most of
the planting. It was new property, and the grounds were in a rough state, but they were now getting it better
shape. Mrs. Redmayne, Cora, and Sammy are now in London. They were a long time in getting Arnold's affairs settled. He was drowned, if you remember. Mrs. Redmayne was his step mother, and most of the money
195
was settled on him, which complicated the settlement. I am not in good health at the moment. My sight is
poor and I have acute arthritis in both knees, but I get about a little bit. I still have my good woman, who
comes every day except Sunday. he does all the shopping, etc., etc. Her husband looks after the garden behind
the garage. We get most of our vegetables, and fruit in the season. Dr. Stephens is still next to the gardens, but
I think his practise is failing. We had a very cold and wet summer and autumn, but since Dec. came in it has
been much milder, though somewhat stormy. I will write Jack's address at the bottom if you would care to
write to him. George has ceased to write to me for ages, so I don't know his address. I shall be 84 in May.
With love and kindest regards to your little family, and best wishes, too, I remain very sincerely yours, Nellie
Cooil
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
July 16, 1959, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, You will be surprised to hear from me after my long silence, but I have been very ill.
I was in bed for weeks, and just when I was getting on my feet again, I had a nasty fall. I did not lose consciousness, but I felt that everything in the room (the living room) going around my head, and I fell fast, like a
log. I was alone in the house at the time. My woman had not come as it was early in the morning. The pain in
my back was awful. How I managed to get back to bed, I don't know. The doctor came about 10 o'clock, gave
me a thorough examination, and said nothing was broken. But I was suffering from severe shock and had to
go back to bed again. Well, my dear, I am up again, but feel very weak. This is about the third letter I have
written for months, so I must thank you for the Christmas card and the letter inside. I hope you will be able to
visit our little world again, before I am called hence. You see, I am in my 87th year, and I am thankful for I
have been spared so long. Both Mr. and Mrs. Watterson have been goodness itself to me during my illness,
and I am very grateful to them for their kindness. They will get their reward. I had a long letter from Jessie
and Jack last week. Fred is going to school and likes it very much. Jack seems in a good way at his work, and
Jessie is doing the usual in their home, painting and rug making besides gardening. She is longing for a peep
home. Six years is a long time without a trip home. They are going on their vacation just after she had written.
There is some hope of the school which used to be your camp being pulled down, and a grant of £75,000 is
being made to the education authority to build a new school. There is already that amount spent on keeping
the place up. It should have come down after the use for which it was intended finished. The weather during
the summer has been fairly good. May was lovely with no rain for weeks, which was bad for the gardens, etc.
It is still fairly good, but I hear that there are not so many visitors as usual. So many people go abroad now
and besides, so many of the cotton mills are closed that the people have not the means to travel who used to
come. Well, my dear, I hope you will forgive me for being so long in writing to you. I do hope that you and
your little family are well, and doing well. So I will conclude with kindest love to you all.
Affectionately yours, Nellie Cooil
A letter from Mrs. Fred Cooil to Jim Farrior
March 31, 1960, Merton Croft, The Crofts, Castletown, Isle of Man
My dear Jimmy, Many thanks for your very interesting letter a few days ago. I was grieved to hear of
your shocking experience in January. How awful for Mrs. Farrior, but what a blessing that you and the children escaped. I do hope that Mrs. Farrior is now quite recovered. It certainly would take some time and treatment for her operation as well as her injured leg and multiple bruises. I trust no after effects will occur. I quite
agree with you about that missile. It may act as a deterrent, but if used it will mean annihilation for so many. I
hope it will never be needed. Your mention of the Rocky Mountains on your plane journey brought to my
mind tales of the early settlers and their many difficulties. Some never reached their journey's end, and others
who got there suffered so they wished themselves back again. I know one man, personally, was never heard
of afterwards. His family made many inquires about him, without results. Yes, I'm taking as much care as is
possible about falling. Mrs. Watterson and her husband you have met when you visited us last time will not
allow me to stoop or do fire places. She comes every day about 8 o'clock to do it. She places the coal ready to
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put on the fire, and takes Daisy (my dog) for her exercise before she goes home at 1:30. Did I tell you that her
husband had a sort of seizure almost a year ago affecting his left arm, throat and leg? He is still out of work
and under doctor's treatment. He was a fortnight in hospital at the time. I do think there is some little improvement lately, but all this month we have had a prevailing east wind, sometimes very strong and bitterly
cold. I think if the weather was warmer, we would feel better. I know my arthritis is making me very infirm. I
have to hold on things to get around, but I am up and about every day. That is not so bad for my age. If I am
spared until May 15, I shall be 87. I hope you will try and have another trip to see us.
The new school is going up and the houses you had are coming down, but are being used still until
next year, when the new one will be usable. You will no doubt have heard of the passing of Sir Joseph Qualtrough, head of Qualtrough Lumber and Building Co. He was driving his car by "Janet's Corner and had a
black out, smashing his car and causing a huge hole in the cottage wall. He was taken to hospital but at the
time suffering from some internal complaint from which he died. He was speaker of our House of Keys.
There was a huge funeral, the Governor, the Bishop, and all of the officials being present. It came as a shock
at the end. He will be much missed at the church where we belonged. Lady Qualtrough was and still is a
friend of mine. I wrote her a letter at the time. I felt so sorry for her. I have not seen her since, but I understood she went away to her married daughter's home in London. She is however now back. She phoned me
the other day, saying she would come up to se me.
In my last letter from Jessie, she said she was saving up every penny, hoping to be able to take Fred
with her on a visit to her Scottish home and the Island, too, while she is there. She really does deserve a
break. She works very hard doing the house decoration, the garden, etc.; Fred goes to the school near their
home and likes it. Jessie thought at first that he might not take to it, but she was surprised and relived by his
attitude. I heard just lately that Anne (Vernie) where you used to lunch, etc., is very ill. She went to the States
when her brother Arthur Vanwell took over the shop. She intended to retire, but money matters could not be
arranged without due notice, hence the delay. Now she is reported so ill she may not be able to make the
journey. We had some lovely snowdrops and crocuses on the lawn, but this horrid east wind seems to have
destroyed them. Now there are only a few daffodils, not nearly so many as other years. The green house is
full of cutting boxes of begonias starting them ready for planting when the weather gets warm. I intended getting some new ones, but what we have takes all the room up. I do hope your family is alright now after such a
terrible experience in January. May God bless you and preserve you, and pray that the "missile" in question
may not be needed. Love to all, Affectionately yours, Nellie Cooil
----A letter from Mrs. Amelia Cooil to Jim Farrior (Amelia was Vernie’s sister.)
16 Aug. 16, 1983, 14 Athol Terrace
Dear James & Peggy, What a lovely surprise to receive your letter. I am sure it would be nice to arrive home. I was so sorry not to see you once again for a chat. It was all so strange – my meeting you both. I
do hope that Peggy was not disappointed in Castletown. We do have a very beautiful Island. You, of course,
would remember some of its beauties. Nancy & Ruby would have so liked to have met you both. Phillis still I
haven’t seen, but I was not out for some weeks, but I’m sure to meet her some time. How Vernie would have
loved to have seen you. It was all so very sad that she should have died so young. She was 61, and my other
sister, who also died, was only 58. It was a very sad year for us. My father also passed away, but he was 86.
We never did tell him about Vernie, we just thought he seemed to know. She was so kind to my family. She
was special. Vernie always gave, and she did love to help you three Americans so much. To her it was never
too much trouble. My Mother talked always about you all, although I never met you. I just knew you three
were great friends at my Mum’s home, and also the Supper Bar. Did you know Vernie started hamburgers?
They were not known on the Island. Everywhere now they just smell. I’m not keen on them. Your holiday
sounded wonderful. I’m sure it would do you both a lot of good. I hope that you enjoyed each place you visited. London was a wonderful place many years ago. I did spend five fantastic days there with Vernie. The
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Tower of London I thought the most interesting. Vernie loved London and she knew every part of it. Mrs.
Jelly was pleased that you were happy with her. There are so few places where one can stay. Castletown, like
everywhere else has changed. I do so hope your visit was enjoyable, for you so many memories, for Peggy a
place where you once stayed so very long ago. It was nice that you picked up the book by Dr. John Clague.
The Manx language is now spoken quite a lot. There have been lessons at schools for those who wanted to
speak it, and we often have someone who speaks over our radio station on special days. I think it is very difficult. It is surprising how interested English people who now reside here are speaking it and learning it. Mrs.
Crebbin has a house full of antiques. We have been friends since we were small children, and her daughter is
a journalist and writes for three of our Manx papers. They would have loved to have had you and Peggy up
for coffee one evening with me. I would have loved to have met you both again. I didn’t know you were staying in Castletown. It was quite a shock. I still visit the Museum and she told me about meeting you both
again. You would have enjoyed seeing her antiques. It was she who found out where you were staying. Perhaps next time we will all meet again. You will have so much to remember of your holidays. I always think
memories last forever. They can be sad, although also great joy. I hope my letter isn’t boring you, but I’m not
good to write – although I do write poetry. I love very much nature, so my poems are simple and about our
Island. We have had a great summer - the sunshine incredible. It is so nice to see lovely brown bodies on the
children. Today it has started to rain a little, but then we do need the water. Well I would feel bad if this letter
for you is too long. Thank you so much for writing to me. I have told all our friends. I live in a small cottage
with my youngest son. We could have had a cut of tea, but as you say there could be another time. My brother
is well at the moment. Chest trouble can be so horrible. It is just how my mother was, although there is so
much more that can be done to help now. I will close now with kindest regards to Peggy. I hope the holiday
made her happy and to you a few happy thoughts of all the folks you once knew in Castletown. Many have
passed on.
Yours Sincerely, Amelia Cooil
P.S. Mr. & Mrs. Cooil’s house in the Crofts is such a nice one, and well kept. Mrs. Watterson now
lives there. She and her husband were left the house by Mrs. Cooil as they had lived there looking after them
both. She told me that you had called.
This ends the Letters from the Isle of Man.
Note: In 2003, the originals of the “Letters from the Isle of Man” were given to Nelson Kinley of
Castletown, Isle of Man, for his family archives. He is the nephew of Vernie Vanwell and Amelia Cooil.
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Part II -- Merchant Marine Experiences
London, Saturday, May 22, 1943 - George Fulton, Jack Boor, and I were discharged from the CTC,
effective at midnight last night. I’m not positive that the Eagle Club is open to Merchant Mariners, but I don’t
intend to ask if we are still eligible to stay here. Last night we had an air raid. The sky was filled with searchlights, and the flack made it look like the Fourth of July. It was a fantastic barrage. One plane was shot down
and it fell close to Piccadilly Circus. I have often wondered how much damage is done on the ground by unexploded shells and flack returning to the ground over a densely populated area like London. Men coming in
late, the air raid, and a RAF band playing out on the street as we tried to sleep early this morning, caused us to
get little sleep. I also laid awake much of the night thinking about the loss of my camera and other things. My
old shoes that I had brought from the States are badly worn, and because two of my shirts were stolen, I also
needed a shirt. I went out shopping and found a pair of shoes for £3/15/- (about $15), and a shirt with two
extra collars for £1/2/6 (about $4.40). I have never before paid prices anywhere near that for clothing. It sure
does cost a lot to live here. I need some kind of jacket, but I will wait until I get to Glasgow, where I expect
things will be less expensive. I’m essentially out of clothing coupons now.
London, Sunday, May 23, 1943 - Strangely, we have nothing to indicate that we are in the Merchant
Marine. We have only Mr. Neill’s word that we are on the War Shipping Administration’s payroll at 1 guinea
(21 shillings) a day beginning yesterday morning. We have our American Passports, but we are not registered
as aliens. Note: We had been very naïve and had not known enough to ask the right questions. Later we
would realize that Mr. Neill was using any means available to him to fill the requirement for marine radio
officers, and he had intentionally neglected to tell us the facts. We had just assumed that we were members of
the U.S. Merchant Marine. In fact, “Merchant Marine” was just a generic name to identify those who sailed
on merchant ships. It was not actually an organization. Actually, we did not meet the basic requirements for
being Merchant Mariners, since we lacked Seamen’s Papers, and also lacked the Federal Communications
License required by U.S. and International law to be Radio Officers. Also, our payment of one Guinea (21
shillings, approximately $4.22 per day was paid by the War Shipping Administration to us as “seamen waiting to be assigned to a ship”, and we were not in fact qualified to receive it as we were not qualified seamen.
The payment did not begin until we signed in at Glasgow. We did not realize it, but we were on our own and
way out on a limb. End note.
Since I had no business to take care of today, Bob Gammon and I went to the Zoological Park at Regents Park and spent a good part of the day with the animals. It was the second time that I had been there, but
there was much I had not seen before. I could never tire of going to the Zoological Park. I have about walked
my feet off, and these new shoes are killing me. In the late afternoon, we went to the American Eagle Club at
28 Charing Cross Road and produced our Eagle Club membership card and were admitted. We had a coke
and left because we didn’t see any CTC or RAF American Eagles there. I suppose a large number of them
have changed over to some American organization. Since the American Red Cross took it over, it is not the
same Eagle Club, where the men used to sit, talk quietly, read, or write letters. Now, it teems with noisy U.S.
service men who don’t seem to have a serious thought in their heads. Except for the cokes and the snack bar,
it lacks everything that had made it so good. It is enough to make a grown man cry.
The U.S. Merchant Seamen’s Club, Glasgow, Scotland
London to the Imperial Hotel, Buchanan St., Glasgow, Scotland, Monday, May 24, 1943 - We
left Euston Station at 10 AM. The train was billed as the "fast train", but it seemed to poke along. This is my
first time to be in Scotland. My maternal grandmother’s maiden name was Annie Magruder. The Magruder
are part of the MacGregor clan. Her ancestor, Alexander Magruder, came from Scotland to Virginia in 1652.
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It is beautiful, scenic country, but because of the cold, miserable winters, I don’t think I would like living
here. We arrived at Glasgow about 6 PM, and went to the Merchant Seamen’s Club, where we checked in.
We met Turner and Connor, two ex-CTC members who I believe were recruited by Mr. Neill. Turner
is a radio amateur (W9OIR) and was with me at Cranwell. Taken as a whole, the men at this club are the
toughest looking group I have ever seen. The majority are seamen who are waiting to be assigned to a ship.
There are numerous reasons why these men don’t have ships. Some of them are survivors from ship sinkings,
some left their ship because they were sick, some had not reported to their ship when it was ready to sail, and
various other reasons. Some are seamen on a shore pass from ships presently at various ports in the area. It
strikes me as being an awful place, and I hope that my stay here will be very short. All of the men here are in
civilian clothing, and we were told that only officers in the Merchant Marine wear uniforms. Of all of the
people here, I think the situation of those men recruited by Mr. Neill in London is the strangest. We are here
to be assigned as Radio Officers on a ship, probably the only Radio Officer. Probably none of us has ever
even seen inside a ship’s radio room. I am the only one who has professional experience as a radio telegrapher. Learning the International Morse code well enough to be an operator, and learning the technical things
necessary to pass an examination, and also learning the American and International rules, regulations, and
operating procedures would usually take about a year, even if one is somewhat gifted, technically inclined,
and has good instructors. In my opinion, Mr. Neill's plans can’t possibly work out.
U.S. Merchant Seamen’s Club, Imperial Hotel, Glasgow, Scotland, Tuesday, May 25, 1943 - I
have never before stayed in such a rough place. Last night, there were a lot of drunks, both in the Club and on
the street outside my second floor window. I was awakened last night by loud shouts like, "Give him the
works! ---Kick him!", accompanied by much loud cursing. This continued for some time before quieting
down. The dreaded School for the Blind barracks in Liverpool, as bad as it was and about which I complained
so loudly, was a wonderful place to stay compared to this. This morning at breakfast, I saw the group that had
been making so much noise last night. They were a bunch of really rough looking whites, and some Philippinos and Negroes, all mixed together. Being from the Southern U.S., this is the first time I have ever seen Negroes eating in the same dining room with whites. It was comforting to observe that there are also a number
of decent looking, well-behaved men here. However, I haven’t observed any ship’s officers staying here. I
believe that if any were staying ashore, they would be in uniform and would not be staying at such a crummy
hotel.
Anxious to learn something about what we can expect, I went to see Mr. Crookes, who is in charge of
everything having to do with running this club and supplying men to the ships as needed. The "Radio Officer’s School" that Mr. Neill in London had told us about, in fact does not exist. Mr. Crookes said that the
War Shipping Administration in London has directed him to set up Morse code lessons for those who need
instruction and to pay them one guinea a day until they are assigned to a ship. Mr. Crookes appears to be a
pretty smart and capable man, but he knows nothing about Radio Officers, and doesn’t understand the problem. He is aware that a license is required, but doesn’t realize that one must sit for a comprehensive examination including not only the Morse code, but also the theory and practice of marine radio, radio operating procedures, and the controlling international rules and regulations. Also, we must get seamen’s papers from
somewhere before being allowed to sign on a ship, but he doesn’t know anything about how this will be done.
All previous men checking in with him have been seamen who already possess all of the necessary documents and skills. Mr. Crookes has hired someone to provide code lessons, and they will begin in a few days.
There are about nine men here now, not all ex-CTC, that have been recruited by Mr. Neill and who
will be attending the classes. Mr. Crookes promised to get in touch with London and find out more about
what must be done to qualify us to be assigned to a ship as a Radio Officer. If we don’t learn something in a
few days, I intend to call Mr. Neill myself to find out what is going on. I believe that Mr. Neill was assigned
the job to get some radio officers for the ships, and he has intentionally misled us in his efforts to show some
results. This can’t possibly work out as intended. What in the world have I gotten myself into? At this point, I
wish I were back on the Isle of Man. I should have my head examined.
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Glasgow, Scotland, Wednesday, May 26, 1943 - Most of the rowdy men, who were apparently from
ships in port, have left and things looked a great deal better at breakfast this morning. The men present were
all orderly and decent looking. There doesn’t appear to be very much bombing damage in the downtown area,
but I understand that the docks along the Clyde River have been repeatedly struck by bombing attacks. I went
to the Aliens Registration Dept. of the City of Glasgow Police and received an Alien’s Certificate of Registration. Fortunately, I had a passport photo left over from my U.S. passport renewal. The photo shows me in my
RAF uniform, but that didn't seem to bother them. The certificate cost one shilling, and the Sergeant warned
me that I must go to the police and have my certificate endorsed if I move to another city. The certificate has
the following note that establishes my identity and nationality: “ U.S. Passport No 708753 issued Washington
on 22/9/41”. I really feel like an alien.
Glasgow is a very dirty town. Apparently, horse drawn vehicles are doing most of the trucking in
town. There is a constant clatter of horses’ hooves on the pavement, and horse manure litters the streets.
When I was a small boy, the same was true of Montgomery, Ala. My grandfather took me with him to a large
livery stable in Montgomery, where he bought mules for his cotton plantation. At that time, and for some time
afterward, there were many horse and mule-drawn wagons on Montgomery streets. Perhaps some still exist. I
remember a poem that I heard in Cranwell that goes like this. “It ain’t the ‘eavy ‘auling that ‘urts the ‘orses
‘ooves, it’s the ‘ammer, ‘ammer’, ‘ammer on the ‘ard, ‘ard, ‘ighways
Thursday, May 27, 1943 - It is quite chilly here, and to save my suit, I’ve decided to buy a jacket
that I can wear with the slacks that I have. Merchant Marine members can get a small amount of clothing
coupons from the Board of Trade office that is located near the club. I bought a nice looking leather jacket
that very much resembles an American flight jacket. It cost over five pounds! However, I need it badly. Note:
That fine leather jacket served me well for many years. End note.
This afternoon, I went to see the Wireless Marine Surveyor at the office where the examinations are
given. He was not aware of any Americans that were to be given the exam. In fact, he didn’t think that it
would be possible, because British law permits them to issue certificates only to British subjects. Perhaps the
people in London will be able to get permission for us to obtain the necessary certificates. Otherwise, this
whole Merchant Marine Radio Officer episode may be a dead end. If their plan fails, I suppose that they
could send us back to the U.S. on a returning merchant ship so we can get the license and papers we require. I
often thought that the RAF didn’t know what they were doing when they were sending me on meaningless
trips, but those trips were fun compared to this. I can’t understand why I am having to discover all of this on
my own, while Mr. Neill is down in London recruiting more would be radio officers to come to Glasgow and
attend a school that does not exist. There should be some way to warn the poor suckers. Mr. Neill should have
come here to Glasgow and sorted all of this out before he recruited the first person. He probably wouldn’t
come here now for fear of being attacked by some of his victims, perhaps including myself.
Friday, May 28, 1943 - I am disgusted with the way things have turned out so far. At this moment, I
have no idea as to what is going to happen. I think the best thing for me to do is to assume that somehow I
will soon be leaving on a ship, and I should always be ready to depart on short notice. Before, I was worried
that the CTC would unexpectedly end, and now I’m worried that my Merchant Marine career may never
begin. If this mess doesn’t clear up rather quickly, I plan to call Mr. Neill and tell him that if he is unable to
sort out the problems with the marine radio operator’s license, etc., I want to be sent back to the States where
I can take the examination. He would probably tell me that he can’t do that and that I’m on my own.
Saturday, May 29, 1943 - This is the first time that I have put up in a hotel and had them pay me just
for staying. I’m paid a guinea a day and it costs me 8/6 a day to stay here. Mr. Neill didn’t tell us that we
would have to pay for the room and board out of the guinea a day. That leaves us with only 12/6 a day for
other expenses. This is yet another one of Mr. Neill’s dirty tricks.
Sunday, May 30, 1943 - Although the code classes are not scheduled to begin until next Thursday,
the instructor came by and set up a telegraph key and code practice oscillator. I didn’t know he was here, so I
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didn’t get a chance to talk with him. Those needing to learn Morse code asked me to send some very slow
code to them, which I did for a couple of hours. Later this afternoon, Jack, George, and I went to the museum
and I saw the best Egyptian exhibits that I have ever seen. Most museums in large cities have put their treasures in safe storage until the end of the war, but this museum seems willing to take the chance. We saw a
number of mummies in painted and gilded mummy cases. There was also a large, carved sarcophagus. The
museum also has an excellent science section showing early steam engines and electrical equipment. Tonight
there was a good picture here at the club. It was "The Return of the Scarlet Pimpernel".
Monday, May 31, 1943 - Gosh, what a rough bunch some of these Merchant Marine people are!
Hopefully, they are not representative of the entire membership. I feel certain that some of them are here because they were kicked off their ships for bad behavior or poor performance. They will undoubtedly end up
on some other ship, where they will exhibit the same bad characteristics. I saw Bob Hope in "Ghost Breakers". It was very funny, but I’m not much in the mood for humor these days. I don’t have anything that identifies me as a member of the Merchant Marine. I’m simply an alien in a foreign land. It is like a bad dream. It’s
a good thing I can’t get my hands on Mr. Neill.
Tuesday, June 1, 1943 - This morning Mr. Crookes told me that he has phoned London about getting
something started in connection with my being permitted to take the radio operator license examination. I
don’t trust him. This afternoon, I phoned the British Wireless Marine Surveyor, and he has heard nothing. If
he called anybody, Mr. Crookes probably called Mr. Neill, who already knows that this problem has no solution favorable to me. I saw Veronica Lake in "I Married a Witch". It was very funny. I found out that I could
still laugh.
June 2, 1943 - I saw two sorry English flicks tonight. It was the first cinema I have been in that was a
combined restaurant and cinema. I didn’t like it, because the smell of the food was unpleasant. It filled the
poorly ventilated theatre, which was also filled with tobacco smoke. It was not a very pleasant way to spend
several hours, and I don’t plan to go again. This evening, I developed a bad cold that reminds me of the one I
had for so long after I first arrived in Britain. I had originally hoped that I would get home this month, but that
hope is fading rapidly.
Thursday, June 3, 1943 - The radio school started today. Unfortunately, it is teaching only the Morse code,
which I don’t need. However, I decided to hang around the hotel so that I can relieve the instructor when he
gets tired. I'm the only one of the would-be radio operators who knows the code, except for Turner who had
learned only enough to get his class C amateur radio license. Some of the fellows here are CTC men who
were recruited in the U.S. by Lockheed and sent to Ireland. I understand that they didn’t like the work, so they
have joined the Merchant Marine. The working conditions must have been awful, because some quit jobs
paying over $400 a month! I’m glad that I didn’t go with Lockheed. However, I haven’t talked with any of
them and don’t know any of the details. For all I know, they could have been fired for reasonable reasons. I
have asked Mr. Crookes to arrange for me to visit one of the ships that are in port so that I can at least see
what a ship’s radio room looks like. I can’t imagine that it has anything in it that will give me a problem, but I
would hate to go aboard a ship as the only Radio Officer and see a ship’s radio room for the first time.
Friday, June 4, 1943 - I think that George, Jack, and the others are beginning to understand what one
has to go through in order to become a telegrapher. Mr. Neill must have convinced some of them that it would
be very quick and easy. I don’t see how they can learn the code in less than three or four months if they work
on it continuously, have an excellent instructor, and have a knack for it. Even then, they wouldn't be capable
of handling messages. Most of them will undoubtedly give up and quit. In any case, Mr. Neill will probably
have partially accomplished his objective because some of the men will sign on as low-skill crewmembers in
order to get back home. However, even that would be illegal. I bought a little book recommended by the Radio Examiner that has to do with marine radio, and I am studying it in case I will be allowed to take the examination. Note On Aug 20, 1943, the S.S. John Chandler, on which I am the Chief Radio Officer, is docked in
South Hampton after having traveled from Hull, England, to New York, and back England I received a letter
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from George Fulton that says that he and Jack are still in the code school in Glasgow. George said that he
found Morse code rather easy to learn and hopes to leave as a Radio Officer shortly, but Jack and the other
students are discouraged and are considering other options. End note.
Saturday, June 5, 1943 - Mr. Crookes told me that “he has a boat for me”. Just like that! I don’t have a license, or any seaman’s papers. I have never seen inside a ship’s radio room. I’m totally baffled! He promised
me that he would make arrangements to get me aboard a ship to see the radio room before I leave. That would
certainly be helpful. He told me that he didn’t know what day I would leave, but it would be quite soon. I
have such a bad cold that I don’t feel like going anywhere. I went to the Post Office and, after filling out an
application, was allowed to withdraw my savings, which amounted to 120 pounds. That, combined with what
I already had, was by far the most money I had ever had on my person, and I left the Post Office with my
money belt stuffed. Mr. Crookes told me that the U.S. Maritime Commission has arrangements with the British government and with a local bank to transfer merchant seamen’s funds to the U.S. Giving my money to
Mr. Crookes and depending on him to get it transferred, probably after I have left, seems a bit risky, but is
probably my best choice. Except for a few pounds, and I have now is an official receipt from him for £123
Sterling and a signed written statement that he will transfer my funds to my Mother in Letohatchie, Ala., via
the Union Bank of Scotland. If Mr. Crookes would decide to quit his job and keep my money, I would probably never hear anything about it or Mr. Crookes again. Maybe his name is actually “Mr. Crook”.
Sunday, June 6, 1943 - Mr. Crookes drove me to Greenock, a port about 20 miles down the southern bank of
the Clyde River from Glasgow. A Liberty ship identical to the one I will take is docked there. He had made
prior arrangements, so the Radio Officer was expecting us. He was very helpful, and showed me the Radio
Officer’s stateroom, the radio room and its equipment, and the battery room. He explained to me some of his
duties. One of his duties was to copy coded messages addressed to his ship and to deliver the decoded messages to the Captain. We listened a short while to 500 K.C., the international watch frequency, and he explained the kinds of signals that were heard. He demonstrated how to set the Automatic Alarm, which is set
when the operator is off watch. It can detect the automatic alarm signal that is transmitted in conjunction with
SOS signals. He showed me the log that he had kept on the way over and explained the entries. We went into
the Chart Room where the Radio Direction Finder is located. It has a loop antenna mounted on the weather
deck that can be rotated from the chart room to determine the direction of a radio signal. It is used as a navigational aid when close enough to shore to receive broadcast stations. Bearing readings on two such stations
will provide a fix. He showed me the chronometer, which provides the accurate time needed for celestial navigation. The radio officer is responsible for tuning in time signals, which are sent to the chart room by a wire
circuit. The second Mate, who is also the ship’s navigator, is responsible for checking the accuracy of the
chronometer. He showed me how the batteries in the battery room must be checked, maintained, and kept
charged. After about an hour and a half, he took me topside to show me the antennas. When the ship is being
loaded or unloaded, the antennas must be taken down. When they are reinstalled, the Radio Officer is responsible for seeing that the antennas are properly put in place. Since this ship was preparing to sail, the antennas
had already been put back in place. I'm glad I saw them in place because I will probably have to preside over
their installation when I get to my ship.
Fortunately, during the short visit, I didn’t see anything that looked difficult. I told the Radio Officer that,
although I knew the Q signals, and message handling procedures, I was not familiar with other marine radio
operating procedures. He told me that there was sufficient documentation in the Radio Room. The Radio Officer had graduated from a Merchant Marine radio school less than a year ago. He knows very little about radio, and was unable to answer technical questions. He has never transmitted a message from his ship because
of the wartime requirement for radio silence. However, he has copied numerous messages, some of which
contained general information for all merchant ships, and some were addressed to his ship. Many messages
are addressed to all merchant ships. The messages addressed to his ship had all been coded. The documents
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used for coding and decoding messages are kept in a small, heavy "safe" that can be thrown overboard in case
the ships must be abandoned, or is in danger of being captured by the enemy.
It was noon when we were ready to leave, and we were invited to stay for the noon meal. We sat at the Radio
Officer’s table. It has four seats, and he shares it with the purser. The proper staffing is to have three Radio
Officers, but at present few have more than one due to the shortage. We ordered from a menu that offered
several selections. I was delighted to find that the food was quite good. The Radio Officer, who is traditionally called "Sparks" aboard ship, told me that the ship has large freezers and refrigerators and everything they
eat was loaded in the U.S. They never bring food supplies aboard in foreign ports. Because of that, the selection and quality of the food served will deteriorate on a long voyage. He said that when leaving the U.S., they
have fresh fruit, meat, vegetables, and milk until they run out.
This afternoon, Mr. Crookes told me that I would leave tomorrow morning. My boat is located on the
East Coast of England, but he said he couldn’t tell me the name of the port or the ship’s name until tomorrow
when he would give me my train ticket. I asked him about the license and seaman’s papers, and he said that
all he knows is that his boss at the War Shipping Administration in London had directed him to send me to
the ship, so that’s what he is doing. I can’t help but worry about my not having the documentation that is legally required by International laws and regulations, and also by British and American law. I’m afraid that if a
problem develops because of this, they will dump me, and I will be entirely on my own, perhaps even in jail.
They would charge me with impersonating a Radio Officer, or being a stowaway. This is not at all funny! I
spent the evening packing my stuff into my foot-locker, making ready for my departure tomorrow morning. I
feel sorry for George and Jack. They will have to suffer through this horrible place for months to come.
I Join the S.S. John Chandler as Radio Officer
Glasgow, Scotland, to the S.S. John Chandler, Hull, England, Monday, June 7, 1943 – This
morning Mr. Crooks gave me my train ticket to Hull, England, which is on the north shore of the River Humber and about 70 miles north of Cranwell, where I went to the Radiolocation School. He told me to report to
the Master of the S.S. John Chandler, a Liberty Ship that is presently docked there. The Master will be expecting me. He also gave me an envelope from the War Shipping Administration in London that I am to hand
deliver to the office of the Director of the War Shipping Administration at 45 Broadway in New York City.
He said that the letter explains my situation and requests that assistance be given me with respect to my obtaining the license and seamen’s papers that I would need if I wish to continue to sail as a Radio Officer in the
Merchant Marine. I said goodbye to George Fulton and Jack Boor, thanked them for their friendship, and
wished them success in their school and future career in the Merchant Marine. We have become close friends,
and agreed that we would stay in touch. Note: We stayed in touch until Jack died in 1996 and George died in
2001. End note.
During the time I’ve been in Britain, I’ve seen much to complain about, but after my stay in Glasgow
with the American seamen, I must say that, generally speaking, the British people are far more civilized than
we are. I never saw any people in Britain who behaved like some of those I saw at the Club in Glasgow.
When I had mentioned that to Mr. Crookes, he had said that some of the British dockworkers and seamen are
equally bad, especially those from Ireland. I’m nearing the end of my stay in Britain. Although things haven’t
worked out like I had initially assumed that they would, I certainly am not sorry that I joined the CTC. It has
been a wonderful and rewarding experience. However, leaving the CTC seemed like a reasonable thing to do
and may yet work out to my advantage. Even if it had been possible to continue in the CTC for an extended
period, which is doubtful, I don’t believe I would have received any additional training. I hope to have many
interesting and valuable experiences during my life at sea. Certainly, I should have an abundance of time to
study a variety of subjects that will be beneficial to me. The increased income will help me to save enough
money to go to school after the war. The casualty rate in the Merchant Marine is high, but I don’t feel very
worried about it.
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Mr. Crookes gave me a lift to Glasgow’s St. Enoch’s Station, and when I arrived, I went to a window
having a sign that read "Baggage Check" and told the porter there that I wanted to check my baggage on the
train and showed him my ticket. He gave me a receipt, and I boarded the train with my duffle bag, which contained only some soft clothing. Shortly before reaching Leeds, where I would change trains, I happened to
look at my baggage receipt and discovered that it read "baggage and cloak room". It suddenly dawned on me
that my foot-locker with all of my belongings was still in Glasgow waiting for me to pick it up! When the
train arrived at Leeds, a porter told me that the train would be there for about 15 minutes, so I quickly found a
telephone booth and phoned the Station Master at St. Enoch’s Station. I explained my problem and he promised to send it on the next train. I’m worried that I may not get my baggage before the ship sails. Since there
is so little time, this situation could be worse than it was when my baggage got lost when it was returned from
C.T.C. headquarters in Bournemouth to Castletown, I.O.M.
Upon arrival at the Hull train station, I caught a taxi to the dock area and found the S.S. John Chandler tied up at a dock. The Master, Capt. H.B. Wilder, was not aboard, but Mr. Eldridge, the Purser, was expecting me. He looked at my passport, but thankfully he didn't ask to see my license or seaman’s papers,
which I believe he should have done. After welcoming me aboard, he took me to the Chief Radio Officer’s
stateroom, which is on the port side of the top deck and the second cabin aft of the Radio Room. He gave me
the keys to both my stateroom and the Radio Room. Since it is after the dinner hour and I’m very tired and
feeling bad from my cold, I’ve decided to try to get a good night’s sleep in my comfortable bunk. This will be
my first night of my new career as a ship’s Radio Officer. I'll have a look in the Radio Room tomorrow.
S.S. John Chandler, Hull England, Tuesday, June 8, 1943 - I didn’t sleep very well last night because I couldn’t stop worrying about my foot-locker. The ship may leave in a day or two, and if it is left behind, there is little chance that I would ever see it again. All I have with me is the clothing I was wearing
when I left Glasgow and a few clothing items in my duffle bag. I don’t even have a razor, or a toothbrush.
I knew where to find the Officers Mess because of my visit to the Liberty ship in Glasgow, so I went
to the Radio Officer’s table and sat down. A mess steward wearing a white jacket came to my table and handed me the menu. Grapefruit! Bacon! Eggs! Biscuits! Hotcakes! Syrup! American type coffee! That seemed a
good way to begin my Merchant Marine career. Some of the ship’s officers had already eaten and had left the
Officers Mess, but I had a chance to meet Captain Wilder. He warmly welcomed me aboard. Someone told
me that Capt. Wilder requires his officers to always be on their best behavior and they must always wear their
coats when in the Officers Mess. I don’t have a uniform, so my leather jacket will have to do under the circumstances.
I went to the Radio Room to study the equipment, and a Navy enlisted man, Radio Man Third Class
L. R. Smith, came in and told me that he had served as the radio operator on the way over. He said that his
Navy training had included basic radio operating, but he had never had any operating experience. His normal
function aboard ship is to use the signal flags and the navy signal lamp on deck. However, there had been no
Radio Officer available when the ship was ready to sail, so he had been told to man the radio room for certain
periods during the day, and to turn on the Auto Alarm at all other times when at sea. He said that he and all of
the navy gunners report to Lt.(j.g). Evans, the Naval Gunnery Officer. He had joined the ship with the first
shakedown cruise, and told me that the trip over in a large convoy had been uneventful, and that he had not
handled any radio messages. The radio log showed only "On watch", "Off watch", and "Silent Period Observed", "Auto Alarm Set", Auto Alarm Off", entries. Fortunately, all of the equipment had worked. He
knows essentially nothing about radio, and if any of the radio equipment, which includes the Radio Direction
Finder, and two short wave receivers, had failed, he wouldn’t have had any idea about how to fix them. I
think that it is probably illegal under International Law to be the radio operator on a merchant ship. I know it
is against both Unites States and International Law for a ship’s Radio Officer not to have seamen’s papers and
a government issued radio-operating license. He showed me where things were stowed, and offered his assistance if I should need it. I thanked him, but it didn't seem to me that he could be of much help as far as the
radio room is concerned.
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This afternoon, I went to the Hull City Police, Aliens Registration Office, and had my certificate endorsed. The endorsement reads: "Reports joining SS John Chandler". After that, I went to the train station and
found that my foot-locker had arrived. What good luck! That certainly takes a load off my mind. So far, so
good!
S.S. John Chandler, Wednesday, June 9, 1943 - I feel absolutely ignorant about ships, and intend
to learn as much about this ship as I can, and as soon as I can. It is going to be hard to stop using landlubber
terms like right side, left side, wall, floor, ceiling, stairs, window, etc. According to the nameplate on the ship,
the S.S. John Chandler was completed at Portland, Maine, in April 1943. It is 441’, 6" in length, and has a
beam of 56’, 10 & 3/4". It has a maximum draft of 27’, 9 & 1/4". The ship will carry 8,500 long tons of cargo,
and has a displacement of 14,245 tons.
I learned that the S.S. John Chandler is on its first voyage. It is operated by the American Export
Line, with headquarters at Pier F, Jersey City. With a crew of 30 and an Armed Guard contingent of 18, it
took a shakedown cruise, sailing alone, from Portland, Maine, to Boston, Mass. At Boston, it took on a cargo
of wheat and sailed in convoy to Halifax, Nova Scotia. It then sailed in convoy to Lock Ewe, Scotland, and on
to Hull, where it unloaded the cargo of wheat. In reality, this the return leg of its first voyage. I am the first
Radio Officer to serve on it.
I understand that a complete Liberty Ship crew consists of 64 people, as follows: Master, Chief Mate,
Second Mate, Third Mate, Chief Radio Officer, First Assistant Radio Officer, Second Assistant Radio Officer, Purser, Deck Cadet, Bos’n, Carpenter, 6 Able Bodied Seamen, 3 Ordinary Seamen, Chief Engineer,
First Engineer, Second Engineer Third Engineer, Engine Cadet, Deck Engineer, 3 Oilers, 3 Firemen/Watertenders, 2 Wipers, Gunnery Officer, Petty Officer, Signalman, 18 Gunners, Chief Steward, Chief
Cook, Second Cook & Baker, 3 Messmen Deck, 3 Bedroom Stewards, 2 Scullery. There is no medical person
aboard, and the purser has only a small first aid kit. I understand that the desired staffing of Radio Officers is
three, but due to the shortage of Radio Officers, few Liberty ships have two Radio Officers, and even fewer
have three. This ship has a 5" cannon mounted at the stern and a 3" cannon at the bow. These guns are for
firing at surface targets, like surfaced submarines, or torpedo boats. In all, there are eight 20 mm anti-aircraft
gun turrets. Two turrets are located forward of the stern cannon, two aft of the forward cannon, and one on
each corner of the four corners of the top deck. Although the ship is a sitting duck for a submerged submarine, it has enough armament to discourage the close approach of surfaced submarines, small vessels, or low
flying aircraft.
At breakfast this morning, nearly everyone called me “Sparks”, which is a name given to the radio
operators in the early days of wireless aboard ship. In those days, the transmitters contained a “spark gap” that
generated a loud sound when transmitting. The ship’s radio call is KIAA. The day was spent studying the
documentation in the Radio Room, and checking out the equipment. I listened to 500 KC, the international
watch frequency, for the first time on my own. The ship has already unloaded its cargo, the antennas have
been erected, and we are waiting for sailing orders. To make the ship more stable in high seas, the ship has
been partially loaded with rubble from bombed buildings. There is certainly plenty of rubble around Hull.
My stateroom is very good. It has a comfortable bunk, which has no springs but a good mattress. The
bunk has two large drawers underneath. There is a desk with a bookshelf above it, a sofa with two drawers
underneath, a clothes closet, a lavatory with hot and cold water, and a radiator for heating. The room is well
lit, and has a gimbal-mounted kerosene lamp to use in case of a power failure. My stateroom is located in the
aft port corner of the superstructure, just under the weather deck, and has a porthole facing the port side and
another porthole facing aft. It is one of the few staterooms that have cross ventilation. In addition to the glass
and steel porthole covers, there are inserts that will block light and rain, but will allow air to flow through for
ventilation. A steward cleans the room and makes the bed every day. Compared to the Cranwell and Scarlett
RAF huts, I’m coming up in the world! Hanging on a hook is a very heavy one-piece rubberized life-saving
suit with a hood. It is intended to extend the time a person can live in the cold North Atlantic water. The suit
has weighted boots so the wearer will float upright in the water. Also hanging in the room is a life preserver.
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Although comforting to have, I hope I’ll never have to use that equipment! On top of the stateroom's overhead, there is a rather thick layer of concrete to protect against shrapnel and machine gun fire. The same protection is provided on the port and aft sides of the room. One of the ships 20 mm cannon turrets is mounted
on top of the Radio Officers stateroom. I hope I’m never in my stateroom when that gun is fired!
#72 -- The Liberty Shi p S.S. Jerem iah O'Bri en.
Note: (April 2000): The S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien, shown above, is identical to the S.S. John Chandler,
and is the only remaining sea-worthy Liberty Ship in existence. This RAF photo shows her in the English
Channel during her visit to England and France for the D-Day celebration in 1994. During that visit she made
calls at Portsmouth, Southampton, Chatham, London, Cherbourg, Rouen, and Le Havre. Much credit has correctly been given to Radiolocation, now universally called RADAR, as being a major factor in winning the
war. The 2,751 Liberty Ships built during the war certainly played an equally important role. The Liberty
Ship had a 2,500 h.p. 3-cylinder reciprocating steam engine fed by 2 oil-burning boilers. The speed was 11
knots (12.67 miles per hour). The cargo was 9,000 tons in the 5 holds plus an additional deck cargo of airplanes, tanks, vehicles, boats, locomotives, etc. Another Liberty Ship, the S.S. John W. Brown, is still afloat
and approved for short excursion cruises. The Liberty Ships built during the war were all essentially identical.
The S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien is identical to the S.S. John Chandler and the S.S. Anthony Ravalli, on which I
served as Chief Radio Officer for 2 1/2 years during the war. I joined the Chandler on June 9, 1943, at Hull
on the Wash, England, and left the Ravalli on Nov. 30, 1945, at Long Beach, near Los Angeles, California.
On 3 Jan. 1998, I received an e-mail from a friend, William Orr, who told me the following: The Chandler
had been built in Portland, Maine, and was launched as Hull #215 in April of 1943. The O’Brien had been
built in the same shipyard, and had been launched two months later as Hull #230. End note.
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#73 -- Jim Farrior, age 74, at the radio operating desk in the R adio Room of the S.S.
Jerem iah O'Brien -- Photo taken in Jacksonville, Florida, by his daughter, Sue Farrior
Harden on 24 Aug. 94
Note: The O'Brien is the only known surviving ship of the 5,000-ship armada that stormed Normandy
Beach beginning on D-Day, June 6, 1944. Fifty years later, she returned to Normandy to participate in the
1994 D-Day celebration. On the way back, she stopped in Jacksonville, Florida, to raise money for fuel needed for the return trip to her homeport in San Francisco. The crew were all volunteers, mostly men who had
served on Liberty Ships during WW-2. My wife, Peggy, and our daughter, Sue Harden, went to Jacksonville
with me to tour the O'Brien on 24 Aug. 1994. The following day, I took a nostalgic five-hour cruise on the
ship, for which I paid $100 as a donation to buy fuel. I roamed the ship from bow to stern, and spent some
time in the radio room talking with the Radio Officer. The details of the ship were so familiar to me that it
seemed like I had just returned to the ship from having gone ashore. When lunchtime came, I bought one of
the packaged lunches that were being sold on deck and went to the Officer's Mess and ate at the Radio Officer's table. It was all very nostalgic. The ship was crewed by men who had sailed Liberty ships during the
war, and their average age was about 75. Fearing some health problems, arrangements had been made to have
a volunteer physician aboard for the voyage. I spoke with him, and he said that the only health problem of any
consequence during the voyage was due to a fall on a greasy ladder (stairway) in the engine room. The man
was only badly skinned and bruised, and lost no work. The doctor said that due to the considerable exercise,
and other healthy aspects of their life at sea, most of them looked and felt better than they had felt in many
years. End note.
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S.S. John Chandler, Hull England, Thursday, June 10, 1943 - We seem to have a good group on this ship.
Capt. Wilder is a very intelligent man, and very proper. He and the other officers I’ve met make a very good
impression. The members of the crew seem to be disciplined and hard working. I can’t believe that Capt.
Wilder would tolerate any unruly behavior on the part of the officers or crew. I haven’t spotted anybody
aboard ship that could in any way be compared with some of the awful men I saw in Glasgow. There was
some talk in the Officers Mess today about a rumor that is going around that the Navy wants to take over all
or part of the Merchant Fleet. Apparently, the Navy would give commissions to the officers and the other
crewmembers would become War Shipping Administration employees. I don’t know enough to know whether that would be good or bad. Anyway, I doubt that it will happen. Capt. Wilder told me that the position of
Chief Radio Officer in the Merchant Marine carries a rating of Lt. j.g., and that I should get a uniform with
one wide and one narrow gold bands on the sleeve when I get to New York. He seems to appreciate my being
aboard. Although Capt. Wilder and I have had several discussions, my problem with not having a radio license or seaman’s papers has not come up. I know better than to ask questions that might place Capt. Wilder
on a spot. Obviously, both he and the Purser know about it and Capt. Wilder was going along with it in order
to have a Radio Officer. I have a feeling that I am way out on a limb. Only time will tell.
Beginning of the first voyage (return leg) of the S. S. John Chandler (Hull, Eng. to New York)
1st day, S. S. John Chandler, North Sea, Friday, 11 June 43 - The crew has been restricted to the
ship since last night, and Capt. Wilder told me this morning that we would leave later today. There is a lot of
activity on the ship associated with our departure. About an hour before dark, there was a brief blast of the
ship’s whistle, and some ringing from the ship’s engine room telegraph. I could feel the vibration of the ship’s
steam engine and propeller as the ship maneuvered away from the dock. Headed home! The view from my
radio room porthole was out over the wide Humber River, and I could see a tug standing by, but we did not
require it. With a sweeping turn, we headed down river. It was very exciting. I signed on the radio log and
made my first entry. It said, "Silent period observed, no signals heard." After about three hours we rounded
Spurn Head and headed northward along the coast. We are in the North Sea and traveling alone only a few
miles off the coast. I stayed on watch until midnight, when I set the Auto Alarm and went to bed.
2nd day, North Sea, Saturday, 12 June 43 - Contrary to the North Sea’s reputation, it was very
calm today and the boat seems to be gliding through the water. This is a very dangerous area, and the conditions are exactly right for submarine operations. We are a sitting duck! We continued along the coast until we
arrived at Tynemouth and anchored in a small harbour where several other ships are anchored. All of the anchored ships had barrage balloons, and shortly after our arrival a boat came out and delivered a barrage balloon, which now floats above us. We are about 10 miles from Newcastle, which is up the Tyne River.
3rd day, Newcastle upon Tyne, Sunday, 13 June 43 - Early this morning, a large Royal Navy
launch came around to the ships and picked up the Captains, Gunnery Officers, and Radio Officers, and we
were taken to a place near Newcastle upon Tyne, for a brief convoy conference. At the conference, some
statements were made concerning the dangers of coastal sailing in these waters. A comment was made that
Merchant Ship losses during the Atlantic crossing had decreased somewhat over the past few months. The
Captains were given a sealed envelope containing highly classified information, such as our destination. The
envelope was not to be opened until the Captain had returned to the ship. At noon today while eating in the
Saloon Mess, I reflected on how much my lifestyle had changed in the short period since I had left the Isle of
Man. If I were still there, I would have had Sunday dinner with Vernie, and probably the evening meal with
Mr. and Mrs. Cooil. I would have had no sense of danger, or impending danger, and would have had a choice
of things to do in the afternoon and night. For instance, I could have spent the afternoon at the camp with my
friends and later could have attended the "shaky-do" in the common room, or I could have gone to the Cosy
Cinema to see a movie. I certainly am going to miss all of that!
This afternoon, the Purser came to the Radio Room where I was reading some documentation, and
said that he had neglected to sign me up officially when I came aboard at Hull. He asked for my passport and
took down my passport number, name, date of birth, and home address. He didn’t ask me for my seaman’s
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identification number, and left that entry blank. I then signed on. He backdated it so that I would get paid
from the day I actually came aboard. It is good to know that I’m officially aboard, and not a stowaway. We
will sail tomorrow in the late afternoon.
4th day, Newcastle upon Tyne, Monday, 14 June 43 - I spent the day studying the unclassified
documentation stored in the radio room file cabinet. Also in the documentation are complete circuit diagrams
and manuals for all of the equipment. As for spare parts, there are only spare tubes for the receivers and some
fuses, etc. According to the Skipper, this ship sailed without a sonic depth finder because none was available
during final outfitting of the ship. The transponder is in the hull, but the motor generator and display unit for
the Chart Room are missing. If it were installed, it would be one of my duties to maintain it. The Skipper expects that one will be installed when we are in port in New York. I also studied some of the classified documentation, which includes the code-books for encoding and decoding messages, plus instructions concerning
how it is done. One of the books covers the radio procedures, which will be used in case it is necessary to
break radio silence, and how course changes will be transmitted and executed when the convoy is in fog. At
other times, other means of communication are used such as the signal lamp, semaphore, flags, and ship’s
whistle signals. These classified books are kept in a steel lock box that has holes in it to make certain that it
will sink immediately if thrown overboard. The box must be thrown overboard if it is believed that the ship
will be captured or must be abandoned. At lunch, Capt. Wilder told us that we would sail about 6 PM. Shortly
before that time, a brief blast of the ship whistle occurred, and the rattle of the anchor chain could be heard as
the anchor was lifted from the bottom. The screw began to turn slowly, and we moved out of the anchorage. I
went off watch at midnight, set the auto-alarm, and came to my stateroom to make my diary entry at my writing desk, and to retire.
5th day, Firth of Forth, Tuesday, 15 June 43 - We arrived in the early morning at the northern
coast of the Firth of Forth, where we moved to a designated anchorage near Methil, about 12 miles from Edinburgh. Several other ships were already anchored there. We will go ashore for a convoy conference tomorrow morning.
6th day, Methil, Scotland, Wednesday, 16 June 43 - This morning a launch stopped by all of the
ships and picked up the Captain, Gunnery Officer, and the Radio Officer from each ship. We were taken
ashore to attend a convoy conference that was held in a conference room at a RAF training base near Methil.
Some letters to be mailed had been collected from the ship, and I gave them to a British Naval officer who
said that he would post them immediately. After the conference, we were invited to stay for lunch at the RAF
Officer’s mess, which would be ready for us in about an hour. I had a seat and began talking with a RAF Pilot
Officer, who was a dive-bomber instructor. He had taken his flight training at Cranwell, and I told him about
my training there and my recent association with the RAF. I also told him that I had had flight instruction in
the States. He offered to take me for a quick dive-bombing demonstration before lunch, so we went out to the
flight line and in about 15 minutes we were airborne in a dive-bomber trainer having fore and aft seats. Although I was in civilian clothes, my leather jacket looks very much like a flight jacket.
After flying for a few minutes to gain altitude, he pointed out the target, which was in the middle of a
large field. He put the plane in a very steep, high-speed power dive and at the appropriate altitude he released
a chalk filled bomb. I was not prepared for the tremendous force when he pulled out of the dive, and my head
practically fell into my lap. As we climbed at a steep angle, he motioned that I should look back over my
shoulder. The puff of chalk dust where the bomb had hit appeared to be quite close to the target. He laughingly asked me if I would like to try one. I replied that I wasn’t quite ready for that, so he pointed in the direction
of the field and told me to fly the plane back to the field. That was easy to do and was a lot of fun. As we approached the field, he took over and made the landing. After receiving his score, we returned to the Officer’s
mess for lunch, which was being served. We had been gone only an hour. During lunch, he stood up and announced that he and I were fellow Cranwell graduates, that I had been practicing dive-bombing with him, and
had flown the plane back to the field. As a result, he said, I was considering quitting the Merchant Marine and
signing up for the dive-bomber school! Everybody applauded. I figure I'm in enough trouble already!
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Lt. Evans, our gunnery officer, told me about an office where they had changed pounds to dollars
while I was flying, so I went there and changed all that I had. That gives me $84.75, which I will probably
need in the U.S. before I am paid. As I boarded the launch to go back to the ship, I felt excited, knowing that
the next time that I stepped on dry land I would be in the U.S.A. I'm getting anxious to get home.
7th day, North Sea, Thursday, 17 June 43 - We sailed early in the morning, and the convoy continued north along the coast. At the conference in Methil, we had been told again that fewer ships were being
lost recently on coastal and North Atlantic voyages. That was very good news! The sea is rather rough, but
not nearly as bad as we can expect when we get in the North Atlantic. The ship is rolling quite a bit, and I’m
unsteady on my feet. Because we only have a partial load of ballast aboard, we are rather high in the water,
and the ship rolls much more under these conditions. When I went ashore to the conference yesterday, I noticed the uniforms that the Radio Officers were wearing. Some of them had one stripe, the rank of Ensign, and
others had one and one-half stripes, the rank of Lt. (j.g.). The Skipper told me that the ones with the Ensign
rating were probably members of the United States Maritime Service, and that Ensign is their initial rank
when they graduate from the Radio Officer School. They can be promoted to Lt. (j.g.) after they get a 1st
Class Radio Telegraph license and have a year’s experience as Radio Officer. The Skipper said that one advantage he saw to joining the U.S.M.S., of which he is a member, is that the U.S.M.S. paid for the initial uniforms. He said that since I am a Chief Radio Officer, when I get to New York, I could either join the
U.S.M.S. and receive an Ensign's uniform, or purchase a uniform with Lt. (j.g.) stripes, which is the standard
rating for a Chief Radio Officer in the Merchant Marine. I will have to look into this when I get to New York.
8th day, Atlantic Ocean, Friday, 18 June 43 - Today was rather calm and pleasant. It was even
warm out on deck in a place that was shielded from the wind. I’ve been thinking about what I will have to do
when I get to New York. First, I must go to the War Shipping Administration and give the letter that I have
for them. I don’t expect to get any help from them. The next thing will be to go to the FCC and arrange to
take my exam as soon as possible. I will have to get my license before I can ship out again. Then, I will have
to get my Seaman’s Identification papers from the Department of Commerce, and lastly, I will have to obtain
my Seaman’s Passport from the State Department. It would be wonderful if all of that can be done quickly
enough for me to go home for a short visit. I want to get back on this ship, because I like Capt. Wilder and the
other officers. I’m also familiar with the equipment on this ship. I want to get my uniform before I go home
so I won’t have to buy any more civilian clothes.
9th day, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 19 43 - It surely is good to have fruit again. I can hardly believe
it. Sometimes for breakfast we get grapefruit. Sometimes we get an orange. Lemons are also available. I had
forgotten how good these things taste. However, the steward says that we will run out of fresh fruit in a few
days. I didn’t know there was so much to a ship until I went down in the engine room. It is so hot down there
that I don’t know how anybody stands it. It burns one’s hands just to touch the railing on the ladder. Just a
moment in the engine room and you are wringing wet with perspiration. The ship is driven by a very large 3cylinder steam engine fed by two large boilers that burn fuel oil. When the steam leaves the last cylinder, it is
condensed and the water is fed back to the boiler. When the steam condenses, the pressure is lowered at the
steam output of the last cylinder, which increases the power developed by the engine. There are also two A/C
generators that are driven by relatively small steam engines, and they supply the American standard of 115
v.a.c. (60 c.p.s.) electrical power to the ship. The throttle that controls the ship’s engine speed is a large lever,
and it must be adjusted carefully and frequently so that the ship will hold its position in the convoy. When in
rough seas, and the ship is lightly loaded, the propeller will sometimes come out of the water, and the engine
will race with much vibration and potential damage to the ship. At such times, someone must be manning the
throttle and be ready to cut it back instantly. The mixture of air and fuel must be carefully adjusted so that no
smoke will come from the ship’s smokestack. The engine room has many meters for monitoring, and valves,
and switches that control many things. I can see that it takes a lot of training to be an engineer on a ship. And
it's a very hot job! The second engineer, who showed me around the engine room, is a decent bloke. He fre-
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quently tells the story about when he was torpedoed. It is something he will probably never get over, and I’d
just as soon not hear about it
10th day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 20 June 43 - The Radio Officer on a Liberty Ship has a very
good stateroom, and a quite comfortable bed. The sofa comes in handy when I have visitors, and the writing
desk and bookshelf have already been put to good use. Not having to leave my stateroom to wash my hands
and face, or to shave, is very convenient. The closet and drawers will hold much more clothing than I am likely to have. It is also convenient to have my own steam radiator, because I can adjust it to suit myself. There is
a small bathroom up the passageway and next door to the Radio Room, which provides me with what is essentially a private toilet. To get to the shower, I go out my door, down the ladder to the deck below, and the
shower is practically at the foot of the ladder. When I want some fresh air, I have what practically amounts to
a private covered porch just aft of my stateroom. Since my stateroom is in a corner, I have two portholes and
cross ventilation. I think this trip will end about July 1st, so that will make three weeks that I will have been
on this ship. I expect to get about $250.00 when I’m paid. That, plus the other money I now have will let me
buy a winter uniform, overcoat, summer uniform, shoes, and the shirts, socks and underwear, etc., that I will
need, and also will cover the other expenses that I will have.
11th day, Atlantic Ocean, Monday, 21 June 43 - If we don’t run into some very bad weather, this
voyage is going to be much more comfortable than when I came over on the H.M.T.S. Andes. Perhaps we
should be wishing for bad weather, because submarines can operate quite well in the seas that we have now.
I’m anxious to see my family and friends in Letohatchie. I wonder if Teeny will recognize me after nearly
two years. It would be nice if I could get her some kind of present, but I’m afraid her mother wouldn’t approve of it. The Purser passed out customs declarations, and I declared nothing on mine because the only
things that I have are clothing articles that I wear.
12 day, Atlantic Ocean, Tuesday, 22 June 43 - The good weather has gone, and it has been very
windy and rough all day. It is all I can do to make my way down the passageway. I had to get some rope and
tie my chair down in the radio room. The filing case broke away from the bulkhead, and I had to get a long
board to wedge against it to keep it from flying across the room. I must crawl over the board to get to the operating desk. I’ll have to ask the purser to tell me who fixes things like this aboard ship. In the Officers Mess,
the tables have little edges that can be raised to prevent plates, etc., from sliding off in heavy seas. We are
having to use them now. It is very difficult to eat, and the cook is having a hard time preparing food. Thankfully, I haven’t been seasick. The good thing is that it is too rough for submarines to operate near the surface
in these seas and the convoy doesn’t have to steer a zigzag course. In fact, in these waves, we couldn’t steer a
zigzag course because our course must be nearly perpendicular to the waves.
13 day, Atlantic Ocean, Wednesday, 23 June 43 - According to the navigation chart in the
chartroom, we are a little more than half way to New York now. New York will be quite an experience to me.
It seems strange that I know much about London, but have never been to New York. There are very few
things to do when on watch other than to monitor the 500 KC international calling frequency, and keep the
radio log. There is much time to study, and very little to interrupt one’s thoughts. Since this job is new to me,
I have been studying the documentation for all of the electronic equipment aboard, and have also been studying the rules, regulations, and procedures that govern marine radio operation. It is clear that later I will have
all of the time that I want to read and to take up the studies that I began on the Isle of Man. There are a number of places on deck where, when the weather permits, one can get out of the wind and enjoy sitting in the
sun or shade. Often, some of the officers who are not on watch will gather, either on deck or at a suitable
place such as the Officers Mess, to talk and swap experiences. At such times, I can pick up a lot of information about the ship and what goes on in the deck and engine room departments. This is all very new to me,
and I find it very interesting. Captain Wilder is rather formal, and seldom engages in conversations that are
not related to his duties. There are two good all-wave Scott radio receivers on board. One is in the Radio
Room and is used in connection with my radio operating duties, and the other is in the Chart Room. The one
in the Chart Room can be used for receiving time signals for checking the ship’s chronometer, which must be
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very accurate for stellar navigation. However, the time signal is usually received on the radio in the Radio
Room, and sent to the chart room by a circuit between the rooms. The radio in the Chart Room is kept tuned
to short wave broadcasts for news and entertainment. The output of the chart room receiver is sent to speakers
in the Officers Mess and the Crews Mess. Only headphones are used in the Chart Room.
14th day, Atlantic Ocean, Thursday, 24 June 43 - Today, at lunch we heard on the radio that there
had been some renewed air strikes on coastal towns in England, and that Hull was bombed heavily. We were
really lucky to escape that. The news said that this was the first time in 18 months that Hull had received a
heavy strike. It must have been pretty bad. Hull is a rather important port. This job gives me much time to
reflect on things, and I often miss the Isle of Man. I miss the relaxed atmosphere that at first bothered me, but
which I later began to like. I also miss the many friends there. Hopefully, the new Technical Officer at Scarlett is a good one. I had become accustomed to going to two or more flicks a week at the Cosy or at one of the
Douglas cinema houses. I don’t suppose I will see many flicks while I’m in the Merchant Marines.
15th day, Atlantic Ocean, Friday, 25 June 43 - I’m becoming more accustomed to the seaman’s
vernacular, and have been all over the ship from bow to stern many times. I feel much more at home on the
ship now than when I first came aboard. Although we have about 5 days more to go before reaching New
York, I can feel an excitement somewhat similar to what I felt aboard the HMTS Andes as we approached our
destination. I will have a lot of important things to do there if I am to remain in the Merchant Marine.
16th day, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 26 June 43 - It seems that I’ll never get my sea legs! I fall all
over the place. When I turn the knob on the Radio Room door, I have to be careful to do it at the right moment. The door is quite heavy, and if the ship is rolling to the port side when I turn the knob from the outside,
the door will fly open and practically throw me into the radio room. If the ship is rolled over to the starboard,
I can't open the door because it is too heavy. I’ve learned to open it at the correct moment, go through quickly, and then close it quickly while the ship is approximately on an even keel. I don’t have as much problem
with the door to my stateroom, because the doorway is across the ship, and the pitching of the ship is far less
than the rolling. As I write this, the sea is so rough that my chair keeps sliding back and forth at my desk. I
have to tie it down with a rope when I leave my stateroom. My bunk is built so as to keep me from falling out.
However, that doesn't prevent my rolling from one side to the other. To prevent that, I roll up a blanket and
put it under the outside edge of my mattress and I lie between that and the bulkhead.
17th day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 27 June 43 - One of my main objectives is to save money for
the purpose of going to school after the war. This job seems made for that. The pay is good, and there is no
opportunity to spend anything except when in port. There is also plenty of time to study some of the subjects
that will help me. I don’t think it would make much sense to consider this as a possible job after the war.
There will be only a fraction of the ships, and a large supply of experienced Marine operators will be available.
18th day, Atlantic Ocean, Monday, 28 June 43- We are in the Gulf Stream, and the sun is shinning.
It has been very hot all day. I can’t take heat like I used to, and I feel like a limp rag. I hope I can adjust
quickly to a warmer clime. The sun heats up the concrete armor layer over the Radio Room and my stateroom
gets very hot and retains the heat long after the sun goes down. I can feel the radiation coming from above.
Although I have cross ventilation in my stateroom, that doesn’t help very much when the wind is primarily
due to the ship’s motion. In any case, the heat is certainly better than being cold. Today, for the first time, we
can get regular broadcast band radio stations during the daytime. I don't think that it is one of my official duties, but I have been made responsible for finding good stations to feed to the speakers in the Officers' Mess
and the Seamen's Mess. It sounds real funny to hear all of the silly advertising. Although BBC had improved
their programming a great deal, and I had become accustomed to it, I must say that the American programming is much better. I hope the "Voice of Alabama" is still working fine at the RAF Scarlett Camp.
19th day, Atlantic Ocean, Tuesday, 29 June 43 - We have an extremely strong head wind and sea
today, and it is considerably slowing our headway. The waves are high, and we are doing about as much
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pitching as rolling. We were supposed to arrive at New York tomorrow, but at this speed we probably will not
make it. Not all of the ships are going to the New York area, and a few have already left the convoy. Some of
them are probably going to Boston. Others will continue on to the New York area, and some may go further
south. I’m glad we are going to New York, because that is where I need to be to solve my radio license and
seaman’s papers problems. I’m going to get my wish! When I was in Glasgow, and I had no idea how and
when I would get home, I had wished that somehow I would get back to the U.S.A. before the 4th of July.
20th day, Wednesday, 30 June 43 - The wind continued blowing all night, and we have been delayed so much that it will be tomorrow before we get to New York. The closer we get to New York, the more
I want to go home. However, with all I have to do, there is not much chance. I will be on duty all night tonight, so I guess I’ll be rather sleepy tomorrow. I got my pay voucher. In 24 days, I made $281.75. There is a
tax of $15.18 to deduct, which leaves $266.58. That is the most money I have ever made in so short a time.
Back in the U.S.A.!
21st day, S.S. John Chandler, Arrival at Pier F, Jersey City, N.J. Thursday, 1 July 43 - Before
dawn, we steamed close by the light ship, which is anchored outside the outer harbor. The waves are still very
high and our ship was rolling considerably. However, the light ship, which is much smaller than our ship, was
violently rolling, pitching, and heaving The John Chandler rolls badly, especially when lightly loaded, and
when heading directly into high waves, it can pitch enough to be very uncomfortable. However, I did not notice much heaving during the voyage. Seeing the extreme motion of the light ship, I felt sorry for the crew,
who must have been having a very miserable time of it. As it became light I was able to see the Statue of Liberty, and beyond we could see the New York City skyline. What a city! These buildings look as though they
will puncture the sky! The harbor is very busy with ferryboats, tug boats, barges, and other ships and boats of
all kinds. There is a constant sound of whistles and horns as the boats make their way in every direction. We
steamed slowly a short distance up the Hudson to Jersey City, where tugs assisted us in coming alongside Pier
F. Pier F is the home pier for the American Export Line, which operates the S.S. John Chandler for the War
Shipping Administration. Their offices are located here. In the afternoon, the immigration officials came
aboard and checked the papers of all of the crew. Except for me, everybody produced a Seaman’s Passport,
which the officials stamped and returned. In my case, they picked up my passport. They said that if I wished
to continue with the Merchant Marine, I would have to get a seaman’s passport. I was told that I could get my
civilian passport back at some time in the future by writing to the U.S. State Department in Washington, D.C
After supper, I went ashore. Although I was in a very strange place, it felt good to be back in my native land.
I caught the ferry across the Hudson to Manhattan, and did some exploring. After the blackout in Britain, it
seemed strange to walk around in a brightly lit city. The city is very noisy and hectic. When I asked some
people on the street for directions, they acted impatient, as though they didn’t want to be bothered with me. In
London, folks would go out of their way to provide information. I had become more accustomed to the British accent than I am to the New York accent. I also had a strange feeling that if I became lost, I might never
find my way back, which was a feeling that I had never had in London. Although I am not in a foreign country, this place seems definitely foreign to me. I had discovered that I had several English pound notes left, so I
tried to exchange them for U.S. dollars. The exchange rate quoted was $2.75 per pound sterling, and since I
knew that the official rate was $4.02, I decided to keep the English pounds. I will be able to use them on a
future trip in case I return to England. Since I must go to 45 Broadway early tomorrow, I located the address
so that I could go there without the possibility of losing time by getting lost. Already I’m beginning to have a
dislike for New York City. I’m sure there are many interesting things here, but I must get used to it before I
will be able to enjoy it.
Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Friday, 2 July 43 - I went to Manhattan this morning to deliver the letter
that had been given to me by Mr. Crookes in Glasgow. After a considerable wait outside the office of a War
Shipping Administration official, I was admitted to his spacious office. He asked me the nature of my business, and I explained briefly about my having been in the CTC, and having been recruited by Mr. Neill of the
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War Shipping Administration at the U.S. Embassy in London, and having been sent to Glasgow to await assignment to a ship, and having been assigned to the S.S. John Chandler as Radio Officer. I told him that Mr.
Crookes, who was in charge of the Glasgow operation, had given me a letter to deliver to the War Shipping
Administration in New York. I handed him the envelope. - The official read the enclosed letter and then
handed it to me to read. The letter said approximately the following: "Because of his qualifications as a radio
operator, and because no Radio Officer was available, the bearer, James S. Farrior, was assigned as Radio
Officer to the S.S. John Chandler by the War Shipping Administration Office in London for the return voyage
to the U.S. He desires to remain in the Merchant Marine, but he lacks the required FCC license, and other
required documentation. Any assistance that you can give him in this regard will be appreciated."
The official then told me that there was no assistance that the War Shipping Administration could
give me other than to tell me that the radiotelegraph license must be issued by the FCC following examination, and the Seaman’s Identification papers must be issued by the U.S. Department of Commerce. When I
have those, I could go to the U.S. State Department office, and my Seaman’s Passport would be issued. In
other words, I was entirely on my own. He got up from his desk, walked me to the door, and wished me good
luck. My past experiences with the War Shipping Administration in London and Glasgow had prepared me
for this kind of treatment, so I was neither surprised nor dismayed -- just a bit angry. Outside his office, I
spoke to the clerical people and found them more helpful. One of them gave me the addresses and telephone
numbers of the FCC, the Dept. of Commerce, and the State Department. I had only a short while to get all of
that done.
I then went to see the U.S. Maritime Service, and saw a Lt. Kernan. When I told him about the way
that Mr. Neill had recruited me in London, and how I had been assigned to a ship and had served as Radio
Officer, he expressed amazement. He said that, somehow, I had bypassed all of the National and International
requirements for signing on a ship as a Radio Officer. Lt. Kernan explained that the U.S. Maritime Service
was established for the purpose of assuring that for the duration of the war, Merchant Marine officers serving
around the world will receive the same level of recognition and respect shown to U.S. Navy officers of the
same rank. Upon meeting specified requirements of training, license, and experience, a Merchant Marine officer could apply for a commission in the U.S. Maritime Service. Upon being granted a commission, the officer is authorized to wear the uniform, which is the same as that worn by U.S. Navy officers except for the
insignia, which is different. The U.S.M.S. officer is required to observe the same code of conduct as is specified for officers in the U.S. Navy. Service ribbons similar to those awarded by the U.S. Navy are awarded by
the U.S.M.S. upon proof of qualification. Merchant Marine officers must have had 6 months of service and a
"satisfactory" endorsement on their license before they can apply for a commission in the U.S. Maritime Service. Graduates of the Radio Officer School are not required to have the 6 months of service. If I join the
U.S.M. S, while obtaining the required 6 months of service, I must buy the Navy uniform, with rank of Ensign, and wear it with the customary Merchant Marine insignia. Upon completing the required 6 months service, with satisfactory performance, I would be qualified to receive a commission as Ensign, and could then
wear the insignia of the U.S. Maritime Service. Lt. Kernan said that initially U.S.M.S. had paid for the initial
uniform, but that is no longer the case. Lt. Kernan let me use his phone to call the FCC concerning my sitting
for the license examination. I talked with the examining officer, who told me that I could take the examination at his office beginning at 8:30 on July 5th. He recommended that I study a book entitled "The Marine
Radio Telegraph License Question and Answer Book", which I could get at a good book store. At a nearby
bookstore, I bought a copy of the recommended book, and returned to New Jersey by the subway.
The New York Subway is very crummy compared to the London Underground. The stations and rolling stock are dirty and unattractive. Whereas the London Underground appears modern in every respect, the
New York Subway looks run down and out of date. There were far more crummy looking people on the New
York Subway than I had observed on the London Underground. I was able to get off the subway a very short
walking distance, under cover, from Pier F, where the John Chandler is berthed. I returned to the ship early
because the crewmembers were being paid off by the shipping company for the voyage in accordance with
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the vouchers, which we had been given on June 30th. When I presented my voucher, I was asked to produce
my license and seamen’s papers, which I don’t have. They said that they would not be able to pay my voucher
until I can present a radio license and seaman’s papers. Another trick! To get paid, I would have to get the
license and papers even if I didn’t intend to continue in the Merchant Marine. This gives me another reason
why I must take care of this as soon as possible. My main concern is that I want to be able to assure Capt.
Wilder that I will have everything in order well before the ship is scheduled to leave on the next voyage.
Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Saturday, 3 July 43 - I told Capt. Wilder that I am confident that I will get
my license and other documentation, and that I wanted to sign on for the next voyage. He said that he would
be glad to have me and that he would inform the shipping company so that they will not put in a request for
another Radio Officer. He also said that I could live aboard the ship during the time the ship is in port, if that
would be convenient to me. I must do that, or my money might run out. Most of the other officers will sign on
for the next voyage and some of them will be staying aboard ship. Capt. Wilder said that the last voyage had
been the shakedown voyage and a number of things must be fixed. Also some items will be installed that had
been left off at the shipyard because they had not been available at the time. Those items must be taken care
of before the ship can be moved from Pier F to another pier where a cargo will be loaded. He said that it will
be several weeks before the ship would sail, and that I am free to make a trip to Alabama if I advise him of
my departure and return dates and give him an address to which he can send a wire, if necessary.
I spent the entire day studying for the license examination. The material is very easy to understand,
but there is much to be memorized. The main problem is that the ship is unloading the ballast, and the loud
noise made by the little steam engines that operate the ship’s winches, and the crashing sound of the ballast
material being dropped into the barges makes it difficult to concentrate. This goes on 24 hours a day, making
it difficult to sleep at night. I should also mention the continuous whistle and horn blowing by the many ships,
etc., navigating the harbor. The air raid sirens blew today. It was a test, of course, and nobody paid any attention to it. A lot of things would have to change before anyone would need to fear an air raid here. Tonight, I
knocked off the studying long enough to write a letter to Mother, to Teeny, and to George Fulton. I told
George about my experiences to date. He and Jack are undoubtedly still in Glasgow, and will probably be
there for at least a few months longer.
Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Sunday, 4 July 43 - The Fourth of July! When I was in Glasgow, I had
hoped that I would be able to get to the U.S. by this date, but knew that it was a very long shot. But it has
happened! How well I remember the Fourth of July of last year! Some of our RAF, RCAF, and WAAF
friends had taken George, Jack, and me to the Vic Pub in Castletown to celebrate American Independence
Day. It was a surprise party, and we had had a good time surrounded by our friends. After a couple of excellent beers from the local Castletown Brewery, we had gone as a group to the Odd Fellow’s Hall and had attended a dance that was in progress. What a difference today is from that happy occasion. Instead of being
surrounded by good friends, I am alone in this city of millions of strangers. I have heard about the Independence Day celebration that was traditionally held here in Times Square in peacetime. There was no celebration
here tonight, and everything is quiet. No sign of fireworks. I spent the entire day studying, and am pretty satisfied that I will make a good grade on the examination. It will be good to get that behind me.
Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Monday, 5 July 43 - I sat for nearly 8 hours for the examination today.
Although it was long, it was not very difficult. The code test was a breeze. My written exam was quickly
graded and I was issued a Provisional Radiotelegraph Operator Certificate (Second Class). It is good for three
months, and the examiner said that my license would be issued in less than a month. That really took a load
off my mind. I now have in my hands the only thing about which I had been concerned. The Seaman’s Passport and the Seaman’s Certificate of Identification papers are a sure thing. I only need to apply for those and
they should be issued immediately.
Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Tuesday, 6 July 43 – This morning I went to the U.S. Department of
Commerce and got my Seaman’s Certificate of Identification, and my Certificate of Service. I was told at the
U.S. State Department office that my Seaman’s Passport would be ready in a few days. Armed with all of my
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Radio License, seaman’s documentation and my pay voucher, I went to the shipping company office and collected my pay. I was fortunate to find Capt. Wilder aboard the ship, and I told him that I had all of my papers,
and that I wished to leave tomorrow and return on Thursday afternoon, July 15th. I told him that I could be
reached by wire at Letohatchie, Alabama. He approved my leaving and said that if the ship has been moved
when I return, I should go to the office and ask them for the ship’s new location.
I went to Modell’s in Manhattan and bought two Radio Officer’s uniforms, blue and khaki, which I
can pick up a little before noon tomorrow. I also bought a large suitcase for my trip. To keep my new uniform
from becoming soiled on the train, I will wear my slacks and put my khaki uniform in the suitcase. I’m really
excited about going home. It seems like a very, very long time since I left.
A visit to my home and family in Letohatchie, Alabama
Jersey City, N.J., to Washington, D.C., Wednesday, 7 July 43 - I went to Manhattan this morning
and picked up my uniforms. They seem to fit me well. The complete uniform included a blue overcoat and
two caps, one blue and the other khaki. I also bought some ties, socks and a pair of official shoes. Having
completed my shopping, I returned to the ship, had lunch, and packed my suitcase. The purser told me that I
could take my stateroom key with me. I left my blue uniform, overcoat, and hat hanging in the closet and my
other things in the drawers. I went to the Grand Central Station early and bought my ticket. It will be a long
trip. If I make all of my connections, it will be about 37 hours. I’m scheduled to arrive in Letohatchie on Friday morning. As soon as I knew my schedule, I sent a wire to Mother telling her when I would arrive. The
train left New York about 6:30 PM and I had a seat as far as Washington, D.C., where I changed trains. When
I went to the gate about midnight to catch the train to Atlanta, there was a mass of people there, already pushing and shoving, trying to get as close to the gate as they could. There was no sign of a queue at the gate. The
gate was not very wide, and there was a crowd at the gate that was three or four times as wide as the gate.
When the gate was opened, it was everybody for himself, and the result was embarrassing to witness. At one
point, I almost got separated from my suitcase. My recent experience in traveling by train in wartime Britain
had not prepared me for this kind of behavior, and many people forced their way in front of me. By the time I
got aboard all of the seats were taken. The train was so crowded that there was not even room to sit on the
floor. Some of the earliest arrivals were lying on the floor. If they had been sitting, there would have been
room for more to sit on the floor.
Washington, D.C., to Atlanta, Thursday, 8 July 43 - The trip from Washington to Atlanta was by
far the worst train trip I have ever taken. I stood up most of the way, and the rest of the time, I sat on the floor.
The only civilized thing I noticed was that people quickly gave up their hard won seats to women of any age,
and elderly people. For most of the people, a cattle car would have been almost as comfortable. Due to the
extremely crowded conditions, nobody came through the car selling snacks and drinks. Getting to the bathroom was something one did only as a last resort. The train arrived in Atlanta about 3:30-PM. There had been
no chance to eat anything since just before I had left Washington about midnight. I had missed both breakfast
and lunch, so the first thing I did was to go to a hamburger place and stoke up on hamburgers, French fries, a
piece of apple pie, and a couple of cokes. Feeling much better, I returned to the station to wait for my train.
Dear ole Atlanta! I boarded a train here on Sept. 19, 1941, bound for England by way of Canada. I’ve
certainly seen a lot, and learned a lot, since then. Atlanta had been my first exposure to a city, except for
when I was a small child and lived in Birmingham, Ala., where I was born. When I had first arrived in Atlanta, I was a country boy in every sense of the word, and I was just becoming comfortable living there when I
left for Montreal to join the CTC. While waiting for my train to be called, I thought of some of the experiences I had had in Atlanta, and wished that I could have gone out to Ft. McPherson, where I had worked as a radio telegrapher. Pop Jones, the supervisor, has written to me saying that the radiotelegraph network had mostly been replaced by teletype machines. It also would have been nice to visit the Boyds, at whose home I had
roomed. They were very good friends and had seen me off at the train when I left for Canada.
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The train for Montgomery was late in leaving Atlanta. As I sat in the waiting room, I heard many
Southern accents. I had not heard a Southern accent since I had left Atlanta, and now they all sounded to me
like someone trying to make fun of the Southern accent by over emphasizing its characteristics. I realize that I
must have lost some of the Southern accent about which I have often been kidded. As the train pulled out of
Atlanta about 6:30 PM, I saw many familiar sights. When it passed West End, I saw the Dutch Kitchen,
where I often ate my meals. Just beyond, we passed the entrance to Ft. McPherson, and a little beyond that we
passed the road that went to Candler Field, where I had taken flying lessons. The train to Montgomery was
full, but there were enough seats for everyone. Because of the increased rail traffic, old passenger cars have
been put into service, and the car in which I was riding was very old and was not air-conditioned. Not being
used to such heat, I felt like I was about to melt. Sandwiches and cokes were available on the train, so I was
able to get something to eat. With the improved conditions, the people seemed much better behaved.
Home Again!
Arrival at Montgomery and Letohatchie, Ala., Friday, 9 July 43 - Because the train stopped at
numerous small stations, it did not arrive in Montgomery until a little after 1 AM. Even at that hour, there was
activity at the ticket window and a number of people were seated, standing or walking around in the waiting
room. A Negro floor sweeper was walking slowly around the room sweeping up cigarette butts, which had
been simply thrown to the floor. Spittoons were placed here and there, and it was obvious that not everyone
had good accuracy. The combined smell of smoke from the trains, cigarette and cigar smoke, stale tobacco
odor, and body odor reminded me of many other times when I had been in this depot before the war. Train
No.5, which I would take for the short 21-mile ride to Letohatchie, was scheduled to depart at 6:50 AM. In
spite of the noise, I sat down on one of the benches determined to get a few hours sleep. From time to time, a
Negro porter would walk through the waiting room calling out in their characteristic loud booming voice the
destinations of the trains that were ready to be boarded. Shortly before time for my train to leave, I went into
the rest room and washed my hands and face. I removed my uniform from my suitcase, put it on, and
emerged from the rest room looking much fresher than I felt. It was a good idea not to wear my uniform during that long, dirty trip. While I was eating a package of cinnamon rolls, and drinking a small bottle of milk, a
Negro shoeshine boy shined my shoes with much snapping of the polishing cloth. Number 5 departed Montgomery on time, and soon we were traveling through familiar country. We passed the small Tyson depot,
which is 5 miles north of Letohatchie, and shortly afterward the whistle blew for Letohatchie. I remembered
that when I was a boy, everybody in town knew the schedules for the passenger trains. The trains ran very
close to their schedules, and folks would tell time by them. My Mother would often tell me things like:
"Come back home for lunch when Number 1 blows".
Home again! About 7:20 AM, the train came to a stop at the small Letohatchie depot. As I stepped
down from the train, I spotted Mother and Melvin, my sister Anne, and my brother Joe! I realized that our
whole family was together again for the first time in nearly two years. It had seemed much longer. How wonderful to see them! Mother and Melvin looked fine, and had changed but little. Anne had become a very pretty lady, and Joe had grown more than I could have imagined. Joe had been just a young kid when I left, and
now he looked like a real boy. I was a little surprised to see Anne, because she was now married to Don
Slesnick, a soldier, and I wasn’t sure she would be in Letohatchie. It was early and we saw few people as we
walked up the main street of the little town to our home. The stores and homes all looked the same. I was told
that the only young men in town now are Kenneth (Kinky) King, Bragg Payne, and Jimmy Cunningham.
The family home in Letohatchie is by Letohatchie standards a comfortable home. In the summer of
1940, just after I had finished high school, I had painted the entire house, and it still looks very good. The
home has electricity and a refrigerator, but cooking is done on a small wood-burning stove. Heating in the
winter is by a small wood or coal-burning stove located in the room that serves as the dining room and family
room. When I lived here, my home-built amateur radio station was located in the corner of the family room.
My all-wave communications receiver was on a table being used as the family radio. The only telephone in
town, except for the one in the depot, is in Mr. Adams’ store and post office. The living room, which is un-
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heated in the winter, is seldom used. There is a nice front porch with a swing. In the back yard there is a
chicken house, a storage shed, and a cowshed. In addition to the back yard, there is a large garden area for
raising vegetables, etc. There is no bathroom, and one must go to an outhouse at the far side of the back yard.
There is no running water. A shallow well with a rope and bucket is on the back porch. When one wishes to
bathe, it is necessary to draw the water from the well, heat it on the wood-burning stove, and pour it into a
small tin tub. The waste water is carried out and dumped in the back yard, which is also the chicken yard.
Homes in Letohatchie have their share of flies, ants, mosquitoes, roaches, and mice. My family has
lived in four other homes in Letohatchie, and none of them had electricity. Without electricity, there was no
refrigeration, no radio, no running water, and electric lights. Kerosene lamps were used for lighting. None of
the roads in Letohatchie are paved. The unpaved main road, where the stores and some of the houses are located, is a county highway, and when cars come through town in dry weather, they generate a cloud of dust
that settles on everything. People don’t pay much attention to things to which they have become accustomed.
Although I perhaps looked clean in my new uniform that I had put on in Montgomery, I felt very
dirty from the long trip in the filthy trains. I had wanted to draw some water from the well, heat it, and take a
bath before going next door to see Teeny Jenkins, who had often written to me during the time I had been
away. I wanted to make a good impression on her. However, our family couldn’t stop talking enough for me
to bathe, and unexpectedly, Teeny and her sister, Jane, knocked on our door. I could hardly believe how much
she had matured since I had last seen her nearly two years ago. She is every bit as pretty as I had remembered
her. And Jane, a couple of years younger, is also a very pretty girl. I told Teeny how much I appreciated her
letters and the "Reader’s Digest" subscription she had given me, and how the men and women in camp had
read the magazines until they were dog-eared. She told me that she had appreciated my letters and also the
sheet music that I had sent from time to time. Everybody commented that my accent had changed, and that I
didn’t sound like anyone from Letohatchie. Teeny said that it was not just my accent, but also the British expressions that I used. I didn’t tell her, but it seemed to me that she and everybody else spoke far more "Southern" than I had remembered. However, I loved to hear them speak.
We talked for a while about the happenings in Letohatchie since I had been gone, which were few,
and I answered some of their questions. It was decided that we would spend the afternoon at the nearby Rogers ponds, which is a favorite place for young people to go in the summer time Mother got out a pair of slacks
and a shirt, and also my swimsuit, from the clothing that I had left at home, so I was able to get out of my uniform. Now, I really felt at home!
After a wonderful Southern lunch that Mother and Anne had prepared, Teeny and Jane came over again, and
we walked along the path through the woods to the ponds. These two large scenic ponds, actually lakes, are
adjacent to each other at one end, and are located in a beautiful wooded area. Although within walking distance of the town, they seem remote due to the surrounding woods. The water in the lakes is crystal clear, and
there is a very nice place in one of the lakes that is used as the community swimming-hole. The Baptist
church uses that same spot for baptisms, and I was baptized there as a young boy. The other lake has a diving
tower, built by local boys, attached to a tall pine tree on the bank. Hanging from a high limb of the pine tree is
a swing that lets swimmers swing far out over the water before they drop into the deep, clear lake water.
When I was about 15 years old, I had designed and built a diving helmet, with which I could explore the bottom of the lakes.
When I was a boy, I spent much of my time at the ponds, fishing and, swimming, alone or with my
friends. For several years, I caught small turtles in the spring, and sold them to a distributor in New Orleans
for three cents each. I used most of the money to buy electrical parts for my experiments. Not having electricity, I used old dry cells discarded by the men at the depot. I would hunt squirrels in the pond woods with my
.22 rifle, and sometimes was able to shoot a duck that had made the fatal mistake of landing on the water.
Those were depression days, and hunting was serious business. I had to make every bullet count. Bringing
home a squirrel, rabbit, or a duck meant meat for the table.
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The last time that I had gone swimming was in these ponds two summers ago, before I went to England. At Scarlett Point, Isle of Man, I had wanted to try the icy cold water of the Irish Sea, but had been unable to get clothing coupons for a swimsuit. Some years back some boys in a group older than I had built a log
cabin in the woods near the swimming hole, and it is still used as a place where swimmers can change
clothes. When I came out in my bathing suit, I looked like a ghost compared to the others. My body had not
been exposed to the sun since I left home, and my skin was ghostly white. It was downright embarrassing.
Fortunately, it was a cloudy day. Otherwise, I would very quickly have become badly burned. We stayed at
the ponds for a couple of hours, and it really seemed like old times. Teeny was very friendly, and has an outgoing personality, but I could sense that she was timid around me. I guess that was to be expected. Because of
our age difference, our worlds had been very different, and we had little in common except our Letohatchie
heritage. Had it not been for the letters we had exchanged over the past two years, we would have been total
strangers by now. However, she was charming and very pretty, and I couldn’t stop looking at her.
On the way back home, I really enjoyed the walk through the woods. I recognized some of the large
hickory trees that had been favorite spots for finding squirrels. About half way back, we passed the crab-apple
tree that marks the place where a path led off to the water pump that pumps water from the ponds into two
large water tanks from which the steam locomotives take on water. The pump is operated by a small steam
engine that makes a distinctive, familiar sound that we could clearly hear. A Negro man known as "Pumper"
had previously run the pump, but Teeny told me that Mrs. Ruth Whitley now runs it. She is the mother of
several boys who are my friends. That seems like a strange job for a woman, as it involves shoveling coal into
the small boiler, but women are now doing some things previously done only by men. Teeny invited me to
visit her at her home tomorrow evening. Today was a wonderful day, but I was worn out from my trip. I’m
going to go to bed early tonight.
Letohatchie, Ala., Saturday, 10 July 43 - Except for a short walk through the small town, I spent
most of the morning at home. I was wonderful to talk with the family. I thanked Mother for all of the many
letters and the nice packages that she had sent me when I was on the Isle of Man, and told her how much they
had improved my life while there. During my walk I saw some of the kids around Joe’s age. He is approximately 10 years younger than I am. I couldn’t believe how much those kids had grown! I hope this war is
over before they get old enough to become involved. It is prime watermelon season, and after lunch, we had a
cold slice for dessert. It was delicious! As a boy, we had no refrigeration and had to eat watermelon at room
temperature. I remember that at one house where we lived, there was an old well that was not used for drinking water. In the summertime we could lower things in a large bucket until the bottom was in the water. This
would keep things like milk, butter, or a watermelon, much cooler than room temperature in the house.
Mr. and Mrs. Rollin Broughton, whose 2,000-acre farm is about three miles out of town on the
Hayneville road, had invited our family to visit them in the afternoon for a swim in their pond. We spent an
enjoyable afternoon there. Mr. Broughton had spent some time in London during the First World War, and he
had memories of some of the same places that I had visited. His daughter, Dorothy, was not there as she is
now a railroad telegrapher and lives elsewhere.
After supper, I went next door to visit Teeny and her parents. They live in a nice home that had been
the Jenkins family home for many years. Mr. Pete Jenkins’ father, Andrew Jenkins, had been Letohatchie’s
most successful merchant from the 1890s until some time after 1915, and had been a friend of my grandfather, James S. Farrior, who was a Civil War Veteran. Mr. Pete had had a successful career as a bird dog trainer. A few years ago, his legs had become paralyzed, which confined him to a wheel chair. Mrs. Florence Jenkins is a very smart lady, who has written articles for "Field and Stream" magazine, and has also published a
novel about a dog trainer. We had a very good time talking about things that had happened in Letohatchie. In
answer to their questions, I told them some things about Britain, the bombing, my work there, etc. Teeny and
Jane were very much participants in the discussions. Everybody commented about my accent. I’m beginning
to believe that my accent has indeed changed. I enjoyed very much listening to their Southern speech. It was a
very sociable evening. I had hoped to have some time alone with Teeny, but I could tell that it was not in the
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cards. Around 9 PM, I told them goodnight. Mr. Pete had been a friend for a long time and had seemed to
really enjoy the conversation. He had asked me to come over again when I could.
Letohatchie, Ala., Sunday, 11 July 43 - Breakfast was excellent. Mother served a typical Southern
breakfast of fried new-laid eggs, grits, bacon, milk, and country biscuits. I don’t know how she did it on that
small wood-burning stove. I finished up by eating several of the biscuits with syrup. I remembered the days
when times were very hard, and we only ate eggs when the few poorly fed chickens laid them. Instead of grits
we ate corn meal mush, and instead of bacon we ate salted pork meat skins or fat back. Instead of biscuits, we
typically ate cornbread or flour cakes that required little lard. For milk, we were at the mercy of our undernourished cow, which I milked. The calf would have to get its share first. I remembered how good it was
when spring arrived, and we would begin to have fresh things from the garden. From time to time, we would
eat a skinny young chicken, or a tough old hen that no longer laid eggs.
I spent all of the morning at home. Melvin was asleep, as he had worked the night shift at the depot. It
was nice to really relax, something I had done little of for quite a while. I learned that Joe was the local
checker champion, and had acquired the nickname "Brains". Anne confided in me that she was going to have
a baby in November. I will soon be an uncle. I’m happy for her. I wish that Don were here, as I would like
very much to meet him. After lunch, we cut a large watermelon. It was delicious! I wanted to visit some of
my friends in town, so I went around to the different stores. I saw Mr. Jack Payne at his store, and then went
to Mr. Hardy Williamson’s store and chatted with him. Continuing down the main road, I stopped at Mr. Will
Adams’ store and post office, where I ran into a few of the town’s people. I then went next door to Mr. Fred
Rogers' store, where the famous domino game is always in progress during the day. Mr. Buck Farrior, Jim
Cunningham, and a couple of men from out of town were playing. Nobody knows how long the domino table
has been in use, as it began before the time of the oldest men now playing dominos. However, it moved from
Mr. Herlong‘s old store a few years ago when his store was closed. Mr. Fred, who is Bill Colvard’s uncle,
told me that Bill Colvard’s diary has arrived. He showed it to me. I read a few pages of it. Bill has seen a lot
of action in the Pacific. Except for Jim Cunningham, and Kenneth King, I saw no men in my age group.
Letohatchie, Ala., Monday, 12 July 43 - Actually, I have only lived in this house for a total of about
15 months. Because of the Great Depression, I didn’t attend the second semester of the eleventh grade, but
joined the Civilian Conversation Corps (C.C.C.) in January 1937. Soon after I joined, Mother married Melvin
Sanderson, and shortly afterward they moved into this present house. I returned from the C.C.C. in September
1938 and completed the twelfth grade with good grades, but was not awarded a diploma because I had not
completed the last half of the eleventh grade. I reentered the C.C.C., and later returned home in March 1940
and graduated from high school on 20 May 1940 at 20 years of age. While in the C.C.C., I had received good
technical and radiotelegraphy experience, having served as the Chief Operator at the Net Control Station of a
large radiotelegraph network. That experience resulted in my being able to get a good job as a professional
radio telegrapher at Ft. McPherson, in Atlanta, Ga., in September 1940. It was that experience that enabled
me to enter the Merchant Marine as a Radio Officer without additional training.
It was wonderful to spend the day at home with my family. The corner of the room where my amateur radio station had been is now empty, and my equipment is stored in a box, except for my Hallicrafters
radio receiver that is being used for the family radio. My antenna was taken down long ago. Even if my station, W4FOK, were ready to operate, it would be impossible, as all amateur radio operation has been suspended for the duration of the war. I have really missed amateur radio and long for the day when peace returns and the restrictions are lifted. It is extremely here, but after all of my complaining in the past about the
cold weather in England and the Isle of Man, I hesitate to mention it. Nobody here seems to notice the extreme heat. Except for a short time that I spent in town, I spent most of the day talking with Mother and Anne.
I had asked Teeny for a date tonight, but she said that she had made one before she knew I was coming home.
I’m really looking forward to tomorrow evening, when I will take her to Montgomery for a movie and dinner
afterwards.
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Letohatchie, Ala., Tuesday, 13 July 43 - This morning, I took Teeny, Anne, Jane, and Joe to the
Roger’s ponds in the car. The car had been inherited when Melvin’s brother came for a visit and died while
there of a heart attack. We had another nice swim in the crystal clear water, but while walking back to the car,
we were caught in a drenching rain and got soaked. I have really missed swimming.
In the early afternoon, Mother discovered that the brake fluid had leaked from the car, and she decided to take it to Hayneville, seven miles away, to get it fixed. When she got to the corner at the end of the
street, she forgot that the brakes were not working and ran into the ditch in front of Mr. Jack Payne’s house. It
didn’t damage the car. Kenneth "Kinky" King came to my aid and pulled the car out of the ditch, and I drove
it over to Hayneville to get it fixed. The repair shop, which is located on the Courthouse Square, was very
busy. As I stood waiting on the sidewalk, Buck Meadows, Jr., whom I knew from high school days, walked
by. We had a nice chat and he told me about some of our mutual friends. Most of the men are in the service.
In Letohatchie, Mother became concerned that the car would not be fixed in time, so she got Jimmy Cunningham to drive her over to Hayneville. When she arrived, she told me that Mrs. Florence, Teeny’s mother, had
insisted that I use her car, so we left Jimmy with Mother’s car in Hayneville, and Mother and I went back to
Letohatchie in Jimmy’s Buick.
Through the help of Mother, Kenneth King, Jim Cunningham, and Mrs. Jenkins, Teeny and I were
able to leave for Montgomery at the planned time. I was in my new uniform and Teeny looked absolutely
lovely. We went to the Paramount and saw "Slightly Dangerous", which we both enjoyed. Following the
movie, we went to the "Elite Café", a popular dinning spot in downtown Montgomery, and enjoyed a very
good meal. When we headed back to Letohatchie, Teeny said that she often drove the car, and would like to
drive home. Perhaps she thought I might forget where I was and would drive on the left side of the road. I was
a little concerned, as I felt that I was responsible for her and the car, but I agreed. It was night, and traffic was
very light. It was quickly evident that her driving skills were much better than mine, so I relaxed. Back at her
home in Letohatchie, I walked her to the door. It was after 11 o’clock, and I felt it was best not to go inside.
Since I was leaving in the morning, and it would be at least a few months before I would see her again, I
wanted to kiss her goodbye. However, I received only a brief hug, as she wished me good luck, whispered
goodnight, and disappeared behind the door. That was very disappointing, but not surprising. I’m sure she has
a large number of friends, and has her pick of the boys. To her, I must seem like someone from another
world. She seems a bit like that to me. At least, she said she would write. Note: Although we corresponded
for a while, that was my only date with Teeny. End note.
I return to New York to make ready for my next voyage
On the train to New York, Wednesday, 14 July 43 - I got up early this morning and Mother, Melvin, and Joe went with me in the car to Montgomery to catch the train. That really saved me a lot of time, because it kept me from having a long wait in Montgomery. As we drove out of Letohatchie, I wondered how
long it would be before I could return. At the Union Station, we said goodbye, and Mother made me promise
to write more often. I thanked her for all that she and the family had done to make my stay at home enjoyable.
We had only a short wait before my train was called. The train to Atlanta was an express train and was faster
and was not nearly as crowded as on the trip from Atlanta. Upon arriving in Atlanta, there was just time to get
something to eat before the train left for Washington. This, too, was a fast train and, although crowded, everyone had a seat. What a change from when I came down from Washington!
Arrival in New York, Thursday, 15 July 43 - There was no delay in Washington, and I arrived in
New York in the afternoon. I went straight to Pier F expecting to find the ship gone. However, the repairs and
modifications are not yet complete, and it will be a few days longer before we can begin to load cargo at another pier. Although the trip back was not the ordeal that the trip home had been, it was tiring enough, so I’m
going to turn in early.
S.S. John Chandler, Pier F, Jersey City, N.J., Friday, 16 July 43 - I spent all morning resting from
the return trip from Letohatchie. After lunch, I went to the Sub-Treasury Building and got my Seaman’s pass-
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port. That building is on the site where George Washington took the Oath of Office, and the stone on which
he stood is behind glass in the building. I now have all of the documents that I need in order to sign on for the
next voyage. What a relief! Capt. Wilder told me that he was happy to receive that good news.
Saturday, 17 July 43 - I went up on the Empire State Building today. The view from the 102nd floor
is fantastic! One must experience it to believe it. Ernie Abbes, the Second Mate, and I went to see Walt Disney’s “Victory by Air Power”, which was very good. I went to Modell’s and took my uniform back. Capt.
Wilder says that I rate a stripe and a half around the sleeve. They will have it ready on Monday.
S.S. John Chandler, Pier 13, Staten Island, New Jersey, Sunday, 18 July 43 - -This morning we
left pier “F” and went to pier 13, Staten Island. I guess we will load military equipment her and will sail about
Monday, a week from tomorrow. It was lucky that we came to New York instead of to Boston. At another
port, there is probably no way that I could have obtained my radio operator’s license, seaman’s papers, and
have made a trip home in time to remain with this ship. I really lucked out!
Monday, 19 July 43 - We have loaded nothing that gives me any idea as to where we are going. I
would be willing to bet that we will go back to England. The news is better now than it has been since the
beginning of the war. I believe that the Italians are going to surrender soon. Rome has been bombed, which
takes the war to them where it hurts most. I got my uniform back today, and it looks good. I hope that I can
have a photo taken to send home.
Tuesday, 20 July 1943 - I learned that tomorrow we are going to Caven Point Terminal and will load
up with explosives! I don’t like the idea of riding atop tons of TNT! The only good thing about it is that we
will be paid an extra 15% during the time the explosives are aboard. I still had rather ride a load of wheat. I
wrote a letter to Teeny and to George Fulton. I haven’t heard from Teeny since I returned from home. I hope
she continues to write to me.
S.S. John Chandler, Caven Point, New Jersey, Wednesday, 21 July 43 - We arrived at Caven
Point today, and began loading ammunition. This ship will go up higher than a kite if it gets hit! Near this pier
are some pilings, which are the remains of a pier that was used for loading ammunition during the last war. I
learned that some ammunition exploded there and it destroyed the pier and surrounding buildings. I don’t
know whether a ship was involved. I learned that recently a ship loading ammunition caught on fire at Caven
Point, and they towed it out into the bay and sank it to prevent the ammunition from exploding. The dockworkers here get $2.50 an hour. I would like to work here a while! On second thought, no!
Thursday, 22 July 43 – Ernie Abbes, the second mate, invited me to spend the evening at his home
in Brooklyn. I feel funny in all of this gold braid! We had some photos taken and the proofs will be ready
Saturday morning. The cost will be $10.00 for three copies. I must send one to Teeny and one to Mother. Ernie’s family has a nice home, and his family was very friendly. We left Ernie’s at midnight and didn’t get
back to the ship until 4:00 a.m. The ship is leaving this pier at 5:00 a.m. If we had we been a little later, the
ship would have been gone.
S.S. John Chandler, Pier 13, Staten Island, New Jersey, Friday, 23 July 43 - We are back at Pier
13, Staten Island, loading the remainder of our cargo. These ships hold a fantastic amount of cargo! New
York is very hot. I can’t remember feeling this hot at home. In England, I complained about the cold, and here
I’m complaining about the heat. I wrote a letter to George Ashley, Mrs. Cool, Vernie Vanwell, and Teeny. I
gave them to the night watchman to mail. I understand that I have a package at Pier F, but I wonder what has
happened to my other mail.
Saturday, 24 July 43 - Ernie and I went to the photographer and had a look at the proofs. I don’t like
mine, but am going to take them in preference to sitting before the camera again. I’m taking 3 different pictures, and it adds up to $12.20. I happened to get a glance at the payroll today and saw where Captain Wilder
makes $450 per month base pay. He carries a tremendous amount of responsibility. We must be going to England because we are loading some tanks and trucks.
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#104 -- Jim Farrior, Chief Radio Officer,”Sparks”, S.S. John Chandler
Photo taken New York City, 22 July 1943
Sunday, 25 July 43 - I spent most of the day resting because I didn’t get to bed until late last night.
The war news is still good. The speculation now is that we will go to the Mediterranean.
Monday, 26 July 43 - What a hell hole! How I would dread living in a place like this. It is a perfect
mad house, with everyone rushing hither and thither, catching subways, ferries, busses, elevators, trains, etc.
As T. E. Brown said in a poem about Liverpool, “Oh God, the pain, the horror of it all.” The same goes for
New York and the surrounding area.
Tuesday, 27 July 43 - The loading of the ship is essentially finished. We are now taking on supplies,
and some new crewmembers are signing on. I double-checked the radio room supplies, etc., to be sure nothing is missing. The hatches have been closed, and the deck cargo has been loaded and is being secured with
steel cables so that it will not break loose in heavy seas. Carpenters are swarming over the ship building catwalks, steps, etc., that will permit crewmembers to move quickly and safely about the deck.
Wednesday, 28 July 43 - Everybody aboard the ship is busy making last minute preparations for
sailing. This is my first time to be on a ship during the cargo loading and the preparations for the voyage. It
has been most interesting to watch.
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Thursday, Friday, 29 July 43 - This morning Capt. Wilder, Ensign Jones (the new Gunnery officer), and I went to the Convoy Conference. The information that was told us did not disclose the destination.
The classified information pertaining to the voyage was given to each ship’s Captain in a large envelope,
which was not to be opened before the Captain returned to the ship. Before opening the envelope, all people
not members of the crew had to go ashore, and the crew is restricted to the ship. The Captain did not tell us
the ship’s destination. I spent almost the entire afternoon supervising the erection of the antennas and doing
last minute preparations for sailing.
Second Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (N.Y. to Southam pton)
1st day, Atlantic Ocean, Friday, 30 July 43 –We sailed from New York early this morning. I’m
glad to be underway. Our orders said that the destination is Liverpool, where I had debarked from the HMTS
Andes in 1941, but that it may be changed. When I left the British Isles, I had thought that I would probably
never go there again. However, I’m not unhappy about going back.
2nd day, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 31 July 43 – We seem to have a good group of officers. I feel
really fortunate that Capt. Wilder stayed with the ship. Mr. Eldridge, the Purser, is with us again. He is in
charge of the slop chest, and I understand that he has some sweets this trip. Ensign Jones, the gunnery officer,
is new but seems like a decent bloke. We have a new First Mate, Hanks. Ernie Abbes is the Second Mate, and
Bill Spatafora is the Third Mate. Jack Smithwick is the Engine Room Cadet.
3rd day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 1 Aug. 43 - I can’t remember ever having seen the sea so calm.
The only disturbance is caused by the ship’s wakes. Maybe it is the calm before the storm. This is a rather
large convoy, with a number of destroyers as escorts. We are steering a zigzag course, as this sea is perfect
for submarines to operate.
4th day, Atlantic Ocean, Monday, 2 Aug. 43 - Life on board the Chandler has become very routine.
I pull my watches, eat my meals, spend some free time in the Saloon Mess talking with some of the other officers, listening for a while to short wave broadcasts, reading, and studying. We had a gun drill today, but of
course there was no shooting.
5th day, Atlantic Ocean, Tuesday, 3 Aug. 43 - It has become extremely foggy, and the ship has
been blowing its whistle almost continuously. It blows our convoy position in Morse code. The ships maintain position in the convoy by listening to the whistles of the ships around them. There are also lookouts
placed at the bow and stern. The ships also drag, at the end of a cable, floats that scoop up water, making it
easier for an overtaking ship to spot it. It is very hard to sleep as my stateroom is just under the whistle. We
are in the front row in this convoy. On the last voyage, we were in the last row, and we fell behind during a
fog. I plan to buy a few boxes of candy from the slop chest and post them to some of my old friends when we
get to England.
6th day, Atlantic Ocean, Wednesday, 4 Aug. 43 - The dense fog continues. It is amazing that the
ships manage to keep their positions in the convoy as well as they do. Of course, submarines can’t see the
convoy in a dense fog. It would be impossible in this fog to steer a zigzag course. The whistles from all of the
ships as they blow their position numbers in Morse code create a terrific din.
7th day, Atlantic Ocean, Thursday, 5 Aug. 43 - Thank goodness! The fog has gone. However, it
has suddenly become very cold. What a change from New York and Alabama! I spend a lot of time wondering what I am going to do after the war. I wouldn’t want to continue in this job, even if it were possible. With
the money I will have at the end of the war, I could probably buy a small cattle farm near Letohatchie, but I
can’t see any future in that. It would be nice to have some kind of technical job in Montgomery, but I think
that by far the best thing would be to go to college and study electrical engineering. Without a degree, I can’t
see much opportunity to do the work I want to do.
8th day, Atlantic Ocean, Friday, 6 Aug. 43 - According to the chart, it looks like we are about
halfway to our destination. My experience with the mail service gives me good reason to assume that I will
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not be the recipient of any mail while I’m in England. I’m pulling the night shift, and not once have I been
able to sleep all morning without being disturbed by a drill of some kind, or loud banging or knocking noises.
9th day, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 7 Aug. 43 - When I’m on watch, there is little that needs to be
done, so I have plenty of time to study. It really is a pity that I was not able to keep all of the books that I had
accumulated while in the CTC. However, I have with me the ones I kept, and I have been studying them. I
had planned to buy a few more when I was in New York, but never did. I have more than enough to keep me
busy until I get more.
10th day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 8 Aug. 43 - We received by signal lamp an order to change position in the convoy, which may mean that we are going to Belfast instead of Liverpool. Except for the fog, this
has been an uneventful trip. There was not even any rough weather. Of course, there is still plenty of time for
something to happen.
11th day, Atlantic Ocean, Monday, 9 Aug. 43 - We received an order by signal lamp to go to Belfast in lieu Liverpool. This has been a very easy trip so far, but as I write, a flag has been hoisted that indicates that submarines are in the vicinity. The aircraft carrier has left us. We are much further south than before when approaching the British Isles.
12th day, Atlantic Ocean, Tuesday, 10 Aug. 43 – It seems like this will be a short trip. If we unload
and return without any delay, the whole trip could be less than six weeks. The steward who cleans our staterooms is awful. I haven’t shaved since leaving the U.S., and I’m beginning to look like an old salt!
13th day, Atlantic Ocean, Wednesday, 11 Aug. 43 - This afternoon we could see the mountains Ireland, and a little later both the mountains of Scotland and Ireland. I’ve had practically nothing to do this trip.
Not even a message of any importance. I’m hardly earning my keep.
14 day, Arrival at Belfast, Thursday, 12 Aug. 43 - We arrived Belfast about 7 AM and anchored
near Bangor. By 11 AM, we had received our orders and immediately started on a voyage to Milford Haven,
Wales. At noon, we passed the Isle of Man, and I could clearly see the towers of the Scarlett Point RDF station where I had worked. I could also see Cregneish, and Port Erin. The skyline with Dalby Mountain, South
Barrule, Snaefel, the Calf of Man, were very familiar. I would really like to go ashore and see the Cooils,
Vernie Vanwell, and the many other people I knew. I would also like to know how George Ashley is getting
along, if he is still there. It certainly seems like longer than three months since I was there. I wonder if they
have enough mechanics now for the four-watch system that we always wanted but seldom got. I would also
like to have another fond look at the RF7 receiver, the MB2 transmitters, the RM3a standby receiver, and the
T1087 WT transmitter that I nursed for so long. About 7:00 PM, we sighted Anglesey. I wonder if George
Fulton's old girl friend, Margaret English, is still there at the Wilfa CH station.
15th day, Arrival at Milford Haven, Departure for Southampton, Friday, 13 Aug. 43 - Friday
the 13th, and we are traveling alone on a submarine infested Irish Sea! We arrived at Milford Haven at noon
and a strikingly pretty WREN officer came out in a launch and brought our sailing orders. When she left, we
all lined up at the rail to watch her climb down the Jacob’s ladder to her launch. We immediately pulled anchor and left for Southampton, where we will arrive about Sunday morning. Our sailing orders warned that
there had been considerable enemy activity lately, mostly air strikes, along the coastal route we would take.
The south coast of England gets a lot of raids as it is not very far from the continent. I remember that once
when I was passing through Southampton, there was an air raid while the train was in the station. The weather
and seas were favorable as we crossed the wide mouth of the Bristol Channel and rounded Land’s End.
16th day, English Channel, Saturday, 14 Aug. 1943 - It was a beautiful day, and I stayed on deck a
good part of the day watching the shore as it slid slowly by. We passed numerous CH radiolocation stations. I
could go into any one of them and be immediately familiar with the equipment and duties. When I couldn't be
on deck, I had a good view of the shore from the porthole of the radio room, which is on the port side of the
ship. At Plymouth, we first thought that an air raid was in progress, but it later appeared to be anti-aircraft
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practice. In the late afternoon, we passed Bournemouth, where the CTC Headquarters had originally been
located, and where we had been reviewed by King George VI and Queen Elizabeth on Oct. 31, 1941. That
was an exciting day! At 9:30 PM we entered the Solent, the large sound between the mainland and the Isle of
Wight. We anchored rather close to Cowes, a town that looks very much like Bournemouth through the binoculars. I understand that Cowes is a popular summer resort town. Note: In 1983, Peggy and I were in the
U.K. for 3 months and spent two weeks on the Isle of Wight. We enjoyed it very much. We also visited
Southampton. End note.
17th day, Arrival in port, Southampton, Sunday, 15 Aug. 43 - Just as we entered dock, the air raid
alarm sounded. About five minutes later we saw the planes coming in leaving a vapor trail behind them. The
anti-aircraft guns put up a barrage, and many bursts of flack could be seen all around the planes. However,
none were hit and they turned and went back out to sea. I guess they didn’t like the welcome! We are tied up
temporarily in the huge dry dock built for the Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, both of which are now troop
ships. Ernie Abbes and I went ashore, and walked around town. We had tea at the Polygon Hotel, and then
went to the American Red Cross, where we sent a cable and had a coke. In Southampton, a pretty waitress
tugged on my beard and said, “You call that a beard?” I shaved it off today, but feel so naked that I think I'll
grow another one.
18th day, Southampton, Monday, 16 Aug. 43 - We had three air raids last night and one of them
was quite long. Five planes were shot down in this area, and I could clearly see one of them falling. This
morning, while we were moving the ship to another pier for unloading, we had another air raid. I was on the
flying bridge and saw them shoot down one plane that fell in flames. The planes came in at a high altitude,
almost out of reach of the anti-aircraft shells.
Trip to London from Southampton
19th day, Southampton and London, Tuesday, 16 Aug. 43 - Ernie Abbes and I went to London on
the 3:10 PM train. Back in familiar London! When we got there, we went to the Eagle Club Dorm and were
able to get beds. Seems like old times. I mailed some sweets to Vera Bradford, who is in presently at home in
Cambridge. The ship's slop chest has some very poor quality candy of a kind that can stand the poor storage
conditions. Maybe I will get a letter from her c/o General Delivery before we leave.
20th day, London, Wednesday, 18 Aug. 43 - While walking on the street at Trafalgar Square, I met
Trevor Moon, who was a mechanic at Scarlett Point and one of my best friends. He is the New Zealander who
plays the piano well and gave me some much needed help. It was really good to see him and he told me about
the new improvements being made in RDF. Although he left Scarlett in December 1942, he has been in touch
with friends at Scarlett and had recent news about some of my old friends. He left Scarlett to become a member of a Wing Maintenance Team in Yorkshire, and is at present on 14 days leave in London. I told him that I
would send him some sweets. Trevor said that he had been to Bournemouth and the Metropol Hotel had been
leveled in an air raid. At the Eagle Club, I met Brown (CTC), who was with me at the RDF School at Cranwell, Lincolnshire, and is now stationed in London. While walking at Piccadilly Circus, we ran into Capt.
Wilder and the Chief Engineer, who were spending the day in London.
21st day, London, Thursday, 19 Aug. 43 - I went to CTC headquarters and asked about my friends.
Harkcom is still at Bride. Cook and Cragin have gone with Lockheed in Ireland. They had no news about
Jack and George, who are probably still at the radio school in Glasgow. I was told that the Air Ministry had
approved a rehabilitation grant of one month's pay to those who had served in the CTC, and it would be
mailed to our homes. At the Eagle Club, we saw our Chief Steward, who was on the “Broadcast to America”
radio program from the Eagle Club. We caught the 3:25 PM train back to Southampton.
23rd day, Southampton and London, Saturday, 21 Aug. 43 - Having enjoyed our brief visit to
London, Ernie and I decided to return. We caught the 2:20 PM train and were lucky again to get beds at the
Eagle Club Dorm. At the Eagle Club, I saw Harold Wright and Brown. Harold is still working with the Office
of War Information. He works for Dick Condon (ex CTC), and has a very good job. Another ex CTC named
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Connor, who was at Glasgow in the radio school but flunked out, came in and told me that Jack Boor and
George Fulton are getting along OK, and that George is nearly ready to be assigned to a ship. Jack is having
trouble learning the code. Connor said that George Turner, an ex CTC who had gone to Glasgow to become a
radio officer, had given up trying to learn the code. He was stranded in Glasgow and had to do something
immediately. When offered the chance to return to the U.S. as a mess boy, Turner took it. Mr. Neill's school
to create Radio Officers turned out exactly as I had predicted. Thankfully, I didn't have to attend, and it appears that George Fulton is the only student who will make it through the school. Note: George Fulton
shipped out from a U.K. port as Radio Officer aboard the S.S. Flomar on Sept 13, 1943, and was discharged
on Aug. 15, 1945, as Chief Radio Officer of the S.S. Joseph R La Mar. Jack Boor dropped out of the code
school on Sept. 3, 1943, and took a position with Dick Condon at the Office of War Information in London.
He also served on the continent after the invasion. End note. I mailed the candy to Trevor Moon at a London
post office.
24th day, London and Southampton, Sunday, 22 Aug. 43 - We caught the 11:30 AM train back to
Southampton. The post office is closed today, so I won't be able to get my mail, if I have any. I am expecting
a letter from Vera Bradford. We are confined to ship as we are leaving tomorrow.
25th day, Departed from Southampton, Monday 23 Aug. 43 - Capt. Wilder is indeed a fine fellow.
I had mentioned to him that I was expecting a letter at the post office, so he stopped by this morning to check.
I had a letter from George Fulton and a wire from Vera. George confirmed what I had learned from Trevor
Moon. Vera is on extended leave from the WAAF and is staying at home to help her mother take care of
Vera’s baby sister. Just after noon, we received orders to move the ship to an anchorage in The Solent just off
the town of Cowes, Isle of Wight, and await further orders. The purser told us that because our cargo had
been explosives (bombs and ammunition), we would get a bonus of 15% of our base pay during the time that
the explosives were aboard. In my case, that amounts to about $17.00. Every little bit helps.
26th day, Anchored in The Solent, Tuesday, 24 Aug. 43 - We spent today at anchor. The weather
was excellent all day, and we had a beautiful view of Cowes and the nearby countryside. It is a pity that the
day could not have been spent ashore. However, this is a job and not a vacation. Orders were received this
afternoon to leave for Milford Haven tomorrow morning.
27th day, English Cannel, Wednesday, 25 Aug. 43 - We sailed very early in the morning. It was
another nice day, and we sailed rather close to the shore. The beautiful scenery was familiar, as we had come
this way on the way to Southampton. Unfortunately, when on duty my view out of my porthole is out to sea.
28th day, Milford Haven, Thursday, 26 Aug. 43 - We arrived at Milford Haven about 5 PM. Very
shortly after we had anchored in the bay, and the same pretty WREN officer as before came out in a launch
and delivered our sailing orders. That gal has real class, and she knows it! As before, we stood at the rail and
admired her graceful descent down the dangling Jacob’s ladder. As soon as the orders had been opened, we
sailed immediately. The gunnery officer had wanted to test his guns, which had not been fired since I had
joined the ship at Hull on the return leg of her first voyage. When we reached the open sea, both cannons and
all of the 20-mm. guns were fired. What a concussion! A knob was knocked off my radio equipment and
some panels were knocked out of some of the ship's doors. It also caused a short circuit in some of the ship's
electrical wiring. Obviously, this ship is not built to be a war ship!
29th day, Irish Sea, Friday, 27 Aug. 43 - It has only been about 14 weeks since I left the Isle of
Man, but it gave me a nostalgic feeling when we passed the Island. We sailed rather close to the southern
coast. The day was very clear and through the gun crew's binoculars, I believe that I could faintly make out
Castletown. The CH towers at Scarlett Point could be seen. Trevor Moon had told me in London that my
good friend George Ashley was still at Scarlett. After passing Port St. Mary, and rounding the Calf of Man, I
cold see the towers at Dalby, where I also had friends. I’m sure that we are being tracked by the CHL station
that I could see poised high on the mountain at Cregneish. I really would like to visit my friends there. Other
familiar places such as Port Erin could also be seen. Note: I returned to the Isle of Man in 1958, 1983, 1994,
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and 1996, the last three times with my wife, Peggy. I’m presently (2003) working with a friend, Alan Cleary
of Castletown, to write a book about the WW-II Radar stations that were located on the Isle of Man. End
note.
30th day, Irish Sea and Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 28 Aug. 43 - We have joined a convoy and have
entered one of the most dangerous areas. Most of the ships traveling between America and the British Isles
pass through this area. The danger is somewhat diminished by the fact that we have more escorts, both air and
sea, and this area is well patrolled. The sea is quite rough now.
31st day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 29 Aug. 43 - Today being Sunday, the deck and engine room cadets have the day off. They have a rather large amount of “home-work” that they must complete before their
return, so they have plenty to keep them busy. I want very much to go home again, and this time I may try to
get a reservation from New York to Atlanta on the “Southerner”, which is a fast modern train. That would
reduce the travel time and give me more time at home.
34th day, Atlantic Ocean, Wednesday, 1 Sept. 43 - Yesterday, we saw a whale blowing a stream of
water into the air. It doesn’t have to worry about submarines. Last night, we had a terrible storm, and our ship
was rolling 44 degrees! It was difficult to keep from getting hurt. We don’t have enough ballast for waves of
this size. I visited Jack Smithwick, the Engine Room Cadet whose stateroom is next to mine on the top level
of the ship, and he had a shoe dangling from the handle of the overhead ventilator so that he could observe the
angle of roll. Hanging on to something while looking at that shoe swinging was enough to make anybody seasick!
35th day, Atlantic Ocean, Thursday, 2 Sept. 43 - The storm has subsided, but it is still rough. In
spite of the rather high waves, we saw another whale today. The weather is not very cold today. I have done
some repair work on some of the ship’s electrical equipment during my time off watch, and Capt. Wilder told
me that I should put in for overtime for such repairs.
37th day, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 4 Sept. 43 - We have entered the fog banks off the coast of
Newfoundland. Every time I’ve passed through this area, it has been very foggy. The ships are sending their
convoy number by their ship’s whistle. The Convoy Commodore is steering the convoy by radio signals on
500 kc. The number of degrees of the new course is sent, and about five minutes later, the “execute” character
“X” is sent, and all ships go immediately to the new course. Several small changes were given rather than one
large one to minimize the possibility of collision.
38th day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, 5 Sept. 43 - I wonder what kind of reception I will get from
Teeny, and hope that she accepted, or was allowed to accept, the watch that I sent her from New York. Jack
Smithwick, Ernie Abbes, and I have little to do when off watch, so we spend a lot of time talking and arguing
about most any subject.
40th day, Atlantic Ocean, Tuesday, 7 Sept. 43 - This has been the roughest crossing I have made. It
has been rough the entire distance, and is still rough. We expect to get to New York about Friday morning. I
broke radio silence very briefly today to acknowledge receipt of an important coded message addressed to our
ship.
42nd day, Atlantic Ocean, Thursday, 9 Sept. 43 - We are within range of the U.S. broadcast stations now. The war news is very good. Italy has surrendered, and the Allies have landed in several places in
Italy. The Germans in Italy are still fighting hard. The Russians are still advancing. It is very encouraging,
and we can hope that the war in Europe will soon be over.
43rd day, Arrival in New York, Friday, 10 Sept. 43 - We arrived in New York and are anchored
off Staten Island. The ship has stopped rocking, but I feel unsteady on my feet. We will not be able to get
ashore until Customs and Immigrations come aboard, which will be a day or two.
Anchored off Staten Island, Saturday, 11 Sept. 43 - Today was a very bad day. I received a letter
from mother, and was grieved to learn of the sudden death of Teeny’s father, Mr. Pete Jenkins. There was
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only one letter from Teeny, and that was written before I left New York, and before her father died. It was in
answer to a letter I had written to her saying that I would send her a present, without saying what it was. She
said that her folks felt that it would not be appropriate for her to accept a present from me, but she wanted to
remain a good friend and neighbor. I don’t know that she has actually received the watch. I wrote her a letter
expressing my condolences and my personal grief as I had always liked Mr. Pete and had felt him to be a
good friend. When I had seen him in July, he had not looked, nor acted, like anyone about to die, although he
had been in a wheel chair for a few years. Teeny didn’t mention the watch, and I expect that she may have
handed it over the fence to my mother. I know that Teeny received the photo that I sent because Mother said
that Teeny had mentioned it to her.
The next bad news was that I received a letter from the American Communications Association
(CIO) saying that if I didn’t get down and join the union in a hurry, I would be discharged from my job. It is
going to cost me about $90.00 to join. Strangely, I had not even heard of the Union, but Capt. Wilder confirmed that I would have to do it. I am very much against organized professionals.
Customs came aboard and searched my stateroom. For a while, it seemed that that they would confiscate my diary. However, they found only the first volume, and I argued that it was about my CTC service in
Britain, so they let me keep it. That really scared me. I have wrapped both volumes of my diary and will mail
them to Mother to keep for me until I return home.
Anchored off Staten Island, Sunday, 12 Sept 43 - Some more mail was brought aboard the ship today, but there was none for me. There has to be some mail that I haven’t received. Going ashore and back
from the anchorage is such a bother that I decided to stay aboard until we dock.
*****
This ends the formal diary entries. Note: Because I was afraid that my diary would be confiscated,
I stopped keeping a formal diary on 12 Sept. 1943 after having completed two volumes covering a two-year
period. From this point forward, I have constructed my Merchant Marine experiences from notes that I made
at the time and from letters home that my mother kept, and other correspondence, etc. To the extent practical,
the following material is presented in diary form. In some cases, the given dates may not be exact, but are
within a day or two. End note.
Third Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (New York to Bône, Algeria)
1st day of third voyage out of New York, Atlantic Ocean, Wednesday, 22 Sept. 43 - We sailed
from New York very early, and I’m glad to see we are heading south. I’m tired of the frigid, stormy North
Atlantic Ocean. We arrived at Hampton Roads, the anchorage near Norfolk in the late afternoon of Sept. 23.
Many ships are anchored here.
3rd day, Hampton Roads, Va. Friday, 24 Sept. 43 – Early this morning, some Navy boats came
around to all of the ships to pick us up for the convoy conference. We were the first to get aboard our launch.
The waves were very high, and Capt. Wilder, Ensign Jones, and I had a very hard time getting safely off the
Jacobs ladder onto the deck of the launch. It took over two hours to collect all of us and take us to Little
Creek, where we would go ashore. We were crowded into the cabin of the small launch and had no place to
sit. The rough seas were throwing us from one side to the other, and most of us had nothing to grab except
each other. Men, even old salts, were beginning to get seasick, including myself. We were closely packed,
with no place to vomit except on the floor. Some vomited on the people around them. There was no ventilation, and smell was terrible. Even those not subject to motion sickness, were sickened by the odor. It was the
first time that I had been sea sick to the point of vomiting. By the time we reached our destination, we were a
sorry looking group. The occupants of the other boats had had a similar experience. We were taken to a large
bathroom, where we cleaned up as well as we could before entering the room where the conference was held.
The horrible odor went with us to the conference room. We were really dreading the return trip to our ships,
but in the meantime, the Navy had provided more boats, which made the return trip much quicker and better.
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4th day of voyage, Atlantic Ocean, Saturday, 25 Sept. 43 – We sailed early in the morning and
formed a rather large convoy. We are now heading south and will soon take a route for Gibraltar that will take
us close to the Azores. At least, we will be certain to have warm weather.
17th day, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, Friday, 8 Oct. 43 – The weather has been ideal since we left,
and I am getting a tan for the first time in three years or more. We had an alarm today, and I heard the escort
talking over the short wave frequency about a plane that had been picked up by their location equipment. It
never came in sight, and the alarm was cancelled. The Liberty Ship next to us is carrying troops, and they
were having a boxing match. Some of the soldiers were blocking our view by sitting on the lifeboats, and we
used the signal light to ask them to move, which they did. Except for the gunnery men on duty, there were
only a few of us who had binoculars with which to watch.
21st day, Arrival at Gibraltar, Tuesday, 12 Oct. 43 – We arrived in Gibraltar in the afternoon and
anchored in the large bay. “The Rock” looked so familiar that I expected someone to try to sell us an insurance policy. We are actually in Spanish waters, and small bumboats came out to the ships and tried to sell
stuff. We had been instructed to turn the fire hose on them if they came within reach of the hose. There are
several ships in the harbor that are sitting on the bottom after being sunk by “human torpedoes”. We were told
that a man would swim out from the Spanish coast pushing a float that carried a bomb. Using a strong magnet
and a rope, the float with the bomb was made to stay close to the ship’s side. The man would swim back to
the shore, perhaps wearing a life preserver. The bombs contained timed fuses that were set to go off after a
short while. As a precaution, we were told that after dark we were to lower a loop of cable over the bow and
drag it along the length of the ship to scrape off any bomb that may have been attached to the hull. That difficult job was done at frequent intervals all night long. Also at night, launches patrol the harbor setting off
small depth charges to discourage swimmers. The depth charges really rattle our ship, and I’d hate to be a
man in the water when one of those exploded near by. From our anchorage, I can see in the low lying land
that connects the “Rock” with the mainland, the towers of a CH (RDF) station like the one at Scarlett Point,
Isle of Man. My good friends Ben Hope and Harry Wooding had served here as Radio Mechanics. There is a
Liberty Ship here that was struck by an aircraft launched torpedo in the Mediterranean and was towed here,
where it now rests on the bottom. The ship’s gunners shot down four aircraft during the raid on their convoy,
and they have four swastikas painted on the stack. Some of the crewmembers are still on the ship, and have
had no heat, electricity, or decent food for several weeks.
22nd day, Gibraltar, Wednesday, 13 Oct. 43 - Capt. Wilder, Ensign Jones, and I went ashore to attend a conference. British Naval officers conducted the meeting. At this point, it is not known exactly how
long we will be here. We were told that a package would be delivered to each ship giving the necessary information just prior to sailing. Safety and security rules to be observed while we are here were given to us,
and also some interesting information about Gibraltar. We were told that the large rock mountain is penetrated by many passageways and large rooms for different purposes. There are also huge storage cisterns for storing water. The other side of the mountain is prepared for collecting potable water to fill the cisterns. Gibraltar
is mostly Spanish speaking, but Capt. Wilder is rather fluent in Spanish so we had no trouble finding our way
around. We ate at a high-class restaurant, which served a very good, but expensive, meal. We had a laugh
when Capt. Wilder inadvertently entered the women’s restroom and was chased out by an irate woman who
screamed at him in Spanish from the door. Capt. Wilder is a quiet and reserved man and was much embarrassed by the event. He refused to translate her words for us, but said that they were not at all friendly. The
articles in the shops were nearly all made in Spain and are expensive. I can’t understand how the people who
come here, mostly British military, could buy them. British cigarettes are less expensive than in Britain
23rd day, Gibraltar, Thursday, 14 Oct. 43, Gibraltar, - The Chief Steward took the boat ashore to
get some stores from the Naval Supply Station, and on the way back a Catalina flying boat crashed in the water near him. The plane was wrecked and was settling in the water in such a position that no exit was available
for the crew to escape. The Chief Steward used a hatchet to cut a hole through which eight of the crew es-
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caped. The radio operator was trapped below the water level and was drowned. When we applauded his heroic deed, he said it was “just in a day’s work”.
24th day, Gibraltar, Friday, 15 Oct 43 - We lowered a boat and went over to the Liberty ship S.S.
Francis Pettigrew to salvage some needed equipment. There was nobody aboard, and the ship is resting on the
bottom in relatively shallow water after having been struck amidships by a torpedo, which left a huge hole in
her hull. Our ship had come out of the shipyard without the complete echo sounder having been installed. Only the transducer had been installed in the hull. Fortunately, we found the electronic driver unit, the motor
generator, and the control and display panel to be in place and apparently undamaged, along with the documentation, so we removed them and carried them back to the Chandler. Note: I installed the echo sounder
equipment, and it stood us in good stead through all of the remaining voyages that I made on the Chandler.
25th day, Gibraltar, 16 Oct 43 - I’ve spent two days designing an electronic telegraph keyer. The
mechanical “bug” keyer makes only automatic dots, but the electronic keyer makes both dots and dashes automatically. It also makes correct dot, dash, and space lengths, allowing a skilled operator to send almost perfect code while maintaining a high speed. The primary advantage of this design is that electronic switches
replace the relays used in the electronic keyer that I designed and built in Atlanta. Unfortunately, I will not
have an opportunity to build this new design until after the war.
26th day, departure from Gibraltar, Sunday, 17 Oct 43 - Before dark, we sailed into the Mediterranean and formed a convoy with ships from Gibraltar and ships arriving from the Atlantic. Our ship is bound
for Bône, Algeria. The Mediterranean is very dangerous because convoys are subject to both submarine and
air attack. We are running with our torpedo nets deployed. They are huge steel nets that are held perhaps 12
feet from each side of the ship, offering a measure of protection to the engine room. A torpedo would explode
upon striking the net, and penetration of the hull in that vital area would less likely.
28th day, Mediterranean Sea, Tuesday, 19 Oct. 43 - Last night, during my watch, I heard several
cannon shots and immediately closed the porthole as required. The cannon shots continued for some minutes,
and after a pause I felt a number of concussions, probably from depth charges. I took a quick look, but
couldn’t see anything. On a dark night like last night, I would only have seen the flashes of the guns. The escort must have become aware of a surfaced submarine, which then submerged. The depth charges continued
to explode for a while, and then it became quiet. In events of this kind, we usually never hear what happened.
29th day, Mediterranean Sea, Wednesday, 20 Oct. 43 - We had a brief scare today. Our convoy
position is on the right, outside column of the convoy. The weather was fine, and this morning several of us
were on deck looking out over the Mediterranean Sea. Suddenly, a submarine surfaced about 500 meters
away. The hatch flew open, and a man instantly appeared on the deck displaying a large British flag. Apparently, it was planned, because an escort destroyer that was not very far away remained in position. At dark,
the sub was still in its initial position relative to our convoy.
30th day, arrival at Bône, Algeria, Thursday, 21 Oct. 43 - We entered the harbor at Bône and tied
up against a breakwater. I was amazed when a uniformed customs inspector came aboard. It seems that when
a country is taken over by an invading army, they try to maintain all of their governmental functions, even
when meaningless. It’s an expression of their sovereignty. Capt. Wilder told me how he handled it. With appropriate formality, Capt. Wilder shook hands with him, invited him into his stateroom, offered him a drink,
chatted cordially with him a few minutes, and then handed him a full bottle of brandy and a few small American bills. The customs official stowed the items in his briefcase, signed a clearance form, gave it to Capt.
Wilder, and left the ship. I suppose the same ceremony had taken place when the ships coming into port were
German ships carrying a similar cargo to ours.
The Radio Officer of another Liberty Ship tied up near us used to be a radio operator at a camp in
District “E”, Civilian Conservation Corps. I served as Net Control operator in Districts “G” and “H” for two
years. The C.C.C. trained many radio operators, and I’m pretty sure that many of them must have ended up as
Radio Officers in the Merchant Marine.
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31st day, Bône, Algeria, Friday, 22 Oct. 43 - Bône was captured by British troops on 12 Nov. 42,
and we were told that until very recently, there had been frequent air attacks against Bône, usually during the
late evening and early morning. They often targeted the important harbor, airport, and the numerous supply
dumps in the immediate area. A number of sunken ships, both military and merchant, are in the harbor. We
may be here several weeks before we can begin unloading. There are several boats ahead of us, and the dock
facilities are nonexistent. Also, we are carrying a large PT boat as deck cargo, and there is no way to lift it off.
We understand that a barge with a very large cargo crane will arrive here in a couple of weeks.
Bône dates back to ancient times, and I understand that the present population is about 80,000. Jack
Smithwick, the Engine Room Cadet, and I went into the town today. The language spoken here is primarily
French, and I was surprised to find that I could read the signs and exchange a few words with the natives. My
French studies while in the CTC are paying off. There are many styles of architecture representing various
phases in Bône’s history. Many buildings have been leveled by bombs, and the remainder are in such bad
shape that it is sometimes hard to tell which ones are war damaged and which are just falling down from natural causes. There are several banks, and three cinemas -- the Colosi, the Majestic, and the Varieté. Shops of
many kinds are open, but they have very little to sell. Some of their stock is left over from the recent German
occupation, and some offer German military items for sale as souvenirs. I’m told that one can buy a German
rifle or pistol and then walk out on the street with it in plain view without fear of being arrested. Most of the
civilians in the downtown area appear to be French, and there are many people in Allied uniforms, mostly
British. The European type people look reasonably neat and clean, but the Arabic people look dirty, and are
dressed in unwashed sheets and head coverings. Clouds of flies are everywhere, and some of the people especially the Arabs, don’t seem to mind the flies crawling on them, even on their faces. Small boys crying out
“Business, Johnny?” tried to sell us oranges and peanuts, and we couldn’t resist buying some. We had a very
limited amount of fresh fruit aboard. Others beg for money, or want to shine your shoes. A band of them followed us until they decided we were no longer potential customers. One dirty little boy showed us the way to
the bank, while demonstrating that he knew a few words of English. I’m sure that he knew more German. At
the bank, we changed several dollars for some of their numerous denominations of colorful paper money.
They have few coins. For one franc, I bought an interesting British newspaper named “Union Jack -- The
Newspaper for the British Fighting Forces (African Edition)”. It is dated Friday, Nov. 19, 1943.
32nd day, Bône, Algeria, Saturday, 23 Oct. 43 - Jack Smithwick, Jack Cantrell, and I were in town
today and met two pretty, young French girls, André and Christián, in a shop. They were not very timid, but
said that they couldn’t talk with us without a chaperone present. They invited us to visit them at their home in
the early evening. The invitation had been extended to the three of us, and we found no way to decide who
would stay behind. After supper, we all walked to the area the girls had described, and quickly found their
rather nice looking home. We were welcomed by the girls and their mother, who directed us to a wellfurnished living room. We spent several interesting hours speaking broken French with them, while their
mother passed through the room at frequent intervals to make certain that everything was proper. Both Jacks
had learned a little French in school, and I had studied it rather hard while I was on the Isle of Man. We asked
if they could go to the local movie houses, and they said only if their mother came along. For an American,
that kind of chaperoning made those pretty girls much less attractive. Note: On the main street of Bône there
was a circular urinal surrounded by a low wall that came up the one’s chest. Using the urinal with the pedestrian traffic passing by in front of one’s face was uncomfortable enough, but I found it even more-so one day
when the mother of André and Christián walked up to wish me a friendly “Bon jour”. End Note.
33rd day, Bône, Algeria, Sunday, 24 Oct. 43 - This afternoon, we watched from our ship as an intense electrical storm moved over Bône. There were a number of barrage balloons floating above the harbor
and city, and one by one bolts of lightning struck them. Their wire cables were instantly turned into a column
of smoke that ran all the way to the spot where they were anchored on the ground. It was really spectacular! I
hope they have enough spare balloons, as Bône has been a frequent target in the past. The most effective way
to attack ships in a harbor is to come in low and drop torpedoes. Any torpedo dropped in a harbor full of ships
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is likely to find a target. The Radio Officer on a Liberty Ship tied up near us went to work at WVR in Atlanta
(Ft. McPherson), Ga., shortly after I left. When he left WVR only a few radio operators remained, having
been replaced by teletype operators.
34th day, Bône, Algeria, Monday, 25 Oct. 43 Date:
Jack Smithwick and I went into town and spotted a bike shop,
where we rented bikes and took an interesting ride around the
town. Of the things we saw, the most interesting was
Georgette, the strikingly pretty, outgoing French girl who ran
the bike shop. When I returned my bike, she smiled sweetly
and slipped me a note on which she had written her name and
address. Note: Some 60 years later, when looking through
my old papers in preparation for writing my Bône experiences, I came across Georgette’s note. Sorry, Georgette, but it’s
much too late now! End note.
Max Stirn and I hitch-hike to Tunis from Bône, Algeria
#116 -- Georgette’s name and address
44th day, Bône, Algeria, Thursday, 4 Nov. 43 - Max Stirn and I had discussed for several days the
possibility of hitchhiking to Tunis, Tunisia, where Max’s friend, Jim Farran, is an army teletype operator. It
seemed like a wild idea, but we convinced ourselves that it would be an interesting experience. Each of us
had a small lunch, a canteen of water, and some American money. Max was carrying a small .38 caliber revolver in a shoulder holster under his coat. He always carried it whenever he goes ashore here.
We left early this morning and went to the airport, hoping to catch a ride, but were told that unless we
had military travel orders, they couldn’t accommodate us. We then went to the eastern road out of Bône and
soon caught a mail truck headed for Bizerte. We had to ride in the back, and it was very hot, bumpy and
dusty. Along the road we passed large guarded military supply dumps where military materials are being
stockpiled for the Italian Campaign. The truck stopped for fuel at a military post near Tabarka, and we were
able to replenish our drinking water. In that area, there are many cork trees, and at places, there are stacks of
cork bundles that are appeared to be awaiting transportation to the market. That business probably continues
relatively unchanged by war as both the Germans and Americans require cork for wine stoppers.
We arrived at a Military Post in Mateur shortly after dark. The Negro driver told us that we would
save a lot of mileage if we would get off here, rather than going on to Bizerte and then to Tunis. We went to
the officer’s mess, but it was closed. However, a soldier supplied some military “C” rations and a loaf of
bread, which tasted pretty good as we were very hungry. Some of the men here have been returned from the
front because of wounds or other reasons, and they had some interesting stories to tell. The soldiers seemed
delighted to have someone from the outside world to talk with, so we sat around talking with them until nearly time for the lights powered by a small generator to be turned off. They took us to an unused tent that had
two cots with blankets. There was no way to close the tent, and during the night we were awakened and startled by some loud growling and smacking sounds, and could see in the dim light from the sky a large animal
in the center of our tent eating some scraps left over from our military rations. Max was pulling his gun up
from the foot of the bed where he had placed his uniform and holster, but thank goodness the animal made no
hostile moves and quickly departed. A pistol shot ringing out in the middle of the night would have made our
hosts very unhappy with us. Since there was no door closure, we wondered what would come in next.
45th day, Mateur and Tunis, Tunisia, Friday, 5 Nov. 43 - In the morning, we got in line and
washed in steel helmets. With some borrowed mess kits, we went through the mess line. The breakfast consisted of coffee, hotcakes, and syrup. Not much choice, but plenty of it, and it hit the spot because we were
very hungry. There were no seats, and the long rustic eating-table was about waist high. After eating, we
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thanked the soldiers for their hospitality, and walked out to the road. Before long, a truck came and gave us a
lift. The country here is mostly desert. There must have been a terrible battle fought here, as for a considerable distance there are numerous disabled and destroyed tanks, vehicles, and also a few planes. Beside the
tanks, there are often grave mounds. Most of the destroyed equipment appears to be German.
The truck on which we were riding went only as far as the airport 15 kilometers outside of Tunis. We
quickly caught a ride on a truck carrying several 500-pound bombs lying on the floor. We couldn’t put our
feet on the truck floor because the bombs had space between them and would roll and bang against each other
every time the truck would turn or change speed. Riding on a load of rolling bombs was not comforting, and I
hoped the driver knew what he was doing. When we arrived in downtown Tunis, we got off and found a
nearby Army Post Office. They gave us the location of Jim Farran’s outfit, which was less than a block away.
This was very much a coincidence, since Max’s only information was that Jim was thought to be somewhere
in Tunisia. We went to the headquarters of Jim’s outfit, signed the register at the MP’s desk at the entrance,
and were allowed to enter without being asked for identification, or the purpose of our visit. Another stroke of
luck was that Jim had worked the night shift, and we found him relaxing on his bunk. He couldn’t believe his
eyes when Max appeared. He and Max had been close friends, but they had not seen each other for two years.
They talked a streak as Max took us to the mess hall for lunch.
After lunch, Jim said that we should take the electric train out to the ruins of the ancient Roman city
of Carthage, and a short time later we were standing amid the ruins at that famous site. The archaeological
site is very extensive,
with many mosaic
floors, and much marble work, including
many columns, both
standing and fallen.
There are two large
amphitheaters, which
indicated that the
population of the city
and surrounding area
had been substantial.
A hill rises above the
ruins, and on the hill
is a good museum that
displayed many artifacts from the site.
#140 -- A postcard purchased at the Carthage site near Tunis, Tunisia
On the museum grounds was a beautiful flower garden that has many choice archaeological items
scattered around, such as large stones with Latin inscriptions. All around the site, numerous Arab kids were
trying to sell the visitors counterfeit Roman coins for 100 francs each (asking price, but obtainable for a small
fraction of that). Near the museum is a magnificent Catholic Church having ceilings covered with beautiful
mosaics. We left a small donation. Note: Jim Farran had a camera and took a few pictures. He later sent copies to Max, who gave me the following photos. On a later voyage in August 1944, Max and I would find Jim
Farran at Bari, on the Adriatic coast of Italy, where he was in a hospital with an injured arm. End note.
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#117 -- Jim Farran and Max Stirn at Carthage, near T unis, Tuni sia Nov. 5, 1943.
#83 -- Jim Farrior at Ca rthage,
near Tunis, Tunisia – Nov. 5, 1943.
As we walked back toward the electric
train, we passed a stand that sold lemonade in
glasses that were made from the lower part of
beer bottles. I can’t figure how they cut the thick
glass. Perhaps they wrapped a loop of resistance
wire around the bottle, applied sufficient current
to make it quite hot, and then dipped it in cool
water. The lemonade was ambient temperature
and we wondered about the purity of the water
from which it was made. However, we were very
thirsty and decided to risk it. It was rotten tasting
stuff, and I worried that it would make us ill. We
also bought some nuts of some kind that tasted
quite good, but were difficult to crack.
We picked up a stone, not realizing that it was possibly a piece of Carthage, and took it with us to use
for cracking the nuts. After boarding the train, the conductor came through and discovered that we were in
first class, but held third class tickets. Although we knew what he was saying, we pretended not to understand. He then spotted the rock, and began another harangue. I motioned that I could throw it out the open
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train window, but he shrugged his shoulders, muttered “C’est la guerre” and moved on leaving us in first class
and in possession of the rock. He probably wished the Germans were still there.
Before supper, Max took us to the communications office where he worked. It was a large room filled
with many teletypewriters, and all of the operating positions seemed very busy. The supper that we had with
the soldiers was plentiful and much better than the RAF food I had eaten at Cranwell and Scarlet. After supper, we went to a theater that had once been fine, but was now war worn, and saw Charlie Chaplin in “The
Great Dictator”. In the ticket line there were a good number of servicemen, mostly Americans. Most of the
civilians were French, and appeared to be clean and respectable looking. When a man wanted to get by the
seat where I was sitting, he apologized so profusely that it took him twice as long to get by. The movie was
really funny. The speech was in English with French subtitles. During the news, a picture of President Roosevelt appeared on the screen, and the people cheered loudly. Before the Americans came, they would probably
have cheered when a picture of Hitler appeared on the screen. I would bet that the theatre was not shut down
for many days during the changeover from German to American type movies. Jim was on night duty, so Max
slept on Jim’s bed. I slept on the bed of another soldier who was also on night duty. Italian forces had occupied these barracks, and when they left in a hurry, the Americans took over the facility, beds and all.
46th day, Tunis, Tunisia, and return to Bône, Saturday, 6 Nov. 43 - The next morning we said
goodbye to Jim Farran, who by that time was much in need of sleep as he had been two nights and a day
without rest. We walked about the town, which like Bône was both damaged by the war and from natural
causes. Tunis had finally been captured on 7 May 1943, and had seen a great deal of bombing and shelling.
The harbor was a major target for American and British air raids because of its role in supplying the German
forces, and now the Luftwaffe strikes both Tunis and Bizerte because they are important Allied ports. We saw
a clean-looking barbershop and got a haircut. One of the barbers spoke fluent English and told us some interesting things about the town, and the way it had been under German occupation. There is a large population
of French here, and there are also, of course, many Arabs. We were told that there is also a large Italianspeaking group in Tunis. Later, we saw two French gendarmes arrest an Arab, and they marched him down
the street at a rapid pace, tapping his head from time to time with their clubs to keep him motivated. We also
saw a man fall from the crowded electric train platform onto the track. He fortunately missed the live third
rail, but as several people were helping him back onto the platform, a man walked up quickly, snatched the
unfortunate man’s wallet from his pocket, and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
We would have stayed in Tunis a day longer, but Max had some duties aboard ship that required that
he return. It was time to hit the road. We walked to the road that led out of town, and caught a truck to Mateur. At the crossroads outside of Mateur, we were not sure which road to take, so we walked up to a nearby
soldier. Every time we attempted to speak to him he would start clicking his heels and saluting repeatedly. He
appeared to be a French soldier, and being addressed by two Americans in officer’s uniforms apparently
frightened him. It was very comical. We finally shouted, “Bône?”, and he pointed the way.
Our next ride took us to a lonely intersection where we had to get off and catch another ride. At the
intersection was an American corporal who served as a sentry to keep the vehicles from taking the wrong
road, and to warn them of difficulties ahead. He told us that there would probably be no more vehicles going
toward Bône until morning. He lived in a tent by the road, and had a supply of drinking water and “C” rations. We were glad to accept his invitation to spend the night with him. In addition to his side arm and the
rifle he carried with him, he had in his tent several more loaded rifles and a case of ammunition. He was
alone, and it would have been easy for someone to sneak up on him at night. He had a lonely assignment, and
seemed to be glad to have someone with whom to talk. He said he wasn’t expecting any trouble during the
night, but gave us loaded rifles. “Just in case”, he said. It occurred to me that if anyone wanted to attack us,
they would probably just pitch a hand grenade into our tent while we were sleeping. I thought that perhaps we
should set watches, but the sentry seemed to be relaxed and I was very tired. There was only one cot, but the
sentry had a couple of extra army blankets. They were rather narrow, but sufficient wide for each of us to
place our blanket on the canvas floor, sleep on one edge, and pull the remaining part of the blanket over us.
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The ground under the canvas floor was soft sand, so we slept rather well. In the morning, an Arab boy about
10 years old came and swept out the sentry’s tent and made up his bed. In return, he got two “C” rations. The
sentry said that the little boy had indicated that it was the same deal he had had with the German sentry who
had previously guarded this intersection.
After a “C” ration breakfast, we thanked our benefactor, wished him well, and stood at the intersection waiting on a ride. Soon, a jeep with an American Army Lieutenant at the wheel came along and said that
he was going to Bône. What luck! After a short distance, we stopped at a tank company beside the road and
picked up two American Sergeants, and one of them took over as driver. Apparently the Lieutenant belonged
to that tank company. At this location, it had rained during the night and the road was very muddy. The jeep
did a good job of pulling through the mud, but we passed some heavily loaded trucks that were helplessly
mired down. Not far from Bône, we stopped beside the road and the men broke out enough “C” rations to go
around, so we began to eat while sitting in the vehicle. When we stopped, there was not a person in sight, but
as soon as we began to eat a number of dirty Arabs appeared from nowhere and crowded around us asking for
food. They had brought a cloud of flies along with them that quickly covered us and the food that we were
trying to eat. They would even reach up to take the food that we were putting into our mouths. When they
would get something, they wouldn’t waste time in eating it, but would immediately reach for more. They
were chanting “American good, Bosch no good”. We were greatly outnumbered. Max and the Lieutenant
were armed, but Max’s gun was not readily available because it was buttoned up under his coat.
There was a rifle in the rifle-rack, but to reach for
it would have invited an attack. It was a scary scene! We threw them all of the food that was handy,
including several extra “C” rations, and while they
were scrambling for it, we quickly drove away.
On the approach to Bône, there were thousands of tons of war materials stored beside the
road. Since much of it was ammunition, there was
sufficient space between each pile to prevent the
detonation of one from setting off others in the
area. Already, some of it was being hauled away
by large trucks, probably to Bizerte for shipment
to Italy. About 1 PM, we entered town and were
driven to the dock area. Unfortunately, it was too
late for lunch. It had been an exciting experience,
but we were pretty exhausted and ready for a bath
and some rest.
52nd day, Bône, Algeria, Friday, 12
Nov. 43 - Jim Farran, our friend from Tunis, has
been here for a two-day visit. Compared to our
trip, he had it easy as he had a single ride all the
way from Tunis to Bône. He must be back in Tunis tomorrow night, and wants to be out at the
highway very early tomorrow morning.
#113 -- A V-Mail Christmas Card
53rd day, Bône, Algeria, Saturday, 13 Nov. 43 - Bill Spatafora had met an Italian family in town
and, and this morning, he invited me to go with him to visit them. He took a rather large box of food that he
had obtained from the Steward. Bill speaks fluent Italian and a little French, and the family members are fluent in both French and Italian. There were approximately seven people in the family, but no young men. I’m
unsure of the relationships, but believe there were the grandparents, two daughters, or perhaps daughters-in-
238
law, and several boys and girls. The whole family appeared undernourished.
The women seemed delighted to see the food that Bill had promised to bring. Since it was already
cooked, and it was lunchtime, they quickly created a nice meal and placed it on the table. In spite of the hard
times, and the events that they had witnessed and still endured, the family seemed to be happy and outgoing.
In a very friendly manner, they kidded my broken French, but seemed to understand what I was trying to say.
A large part of the conversation was in Italian, the language they obviously preferred. It was a very interesting
experience. I got the feeling that it was the best meal that the family had had in a long time, and not a scrap
was left. I ate very little to provide more food for the others.
Expecting that I wouldn’t be home by Christmas, I drew and sent a V-Mail Christmas card to my
mother. Note: The V-Mail system reduced considerably the bulkiness of the military mail during the War,
and made it possible for much of it to go by air. The messages were written on a special form and after the
censor at the military post office had placed his stamp on them, the military post office would put them on
microfilm. The reels of microfilm, each containing a very large number of messages, were sent in lieu of the
original forms. At the receiving post office in the U.S., the images were printed on photosensitive paper and
mailed to the recipient. I suppose the system was also used in the other direction, but I never received a Vmail. End note.
A visit to the Basilica of St. Augustine and the ancient Roman ruins of Hippone near Bône.
66th day, Bône, Algeria, Friday, 26 Nov. 43 - I walked to the edge of Bône to visit the impressive
Catholic Basilica of St. Augustine and the ancient Roman ruins of Hippone on the outskirts of Bône. The road
took me through an Arabic slum area, and when I realized that I was the only person not wearing a sheet, and
having recently heard where a sailor from a ship had been murdered in such a place, I became concerned
about my security. I was about to retrace my steps, when the spectacular and majestic Basilica appeared
standing on a hill before me.
Inside and out, the ancient building is a masterpiece of beauty and craftsmanship, but the priest, or
monk, that I saw inside was a filthy and ragged man with a strong body odor and covered with flies. There
was a glass crypt in which was laid out an effigy of St. Augustine. The army of the effigy had an opening
with a glass cover through which could be seen a bone said to have belonged to that saintly man. There were
many religious effigies, paintings, decorations, etc. The very large structure and the adornments seemed to
have weathered the war without having been damaged.
Building the Basilica was a tremendous project requiring the efforts of many skilled architects and
laborers over a number of years. Once built, the cost of maintaining it must be large. When considering the
poverty-stricken condition of most of the population, which has probably existed since ancient times, one
wonders from what source such wealth was derived. There were several places for offerings, but only a few
very low-denomination bills had been left. There are essentially no coins in circulation. Because of the pleasure that I had derived from my visit to the ancient Basilica, I left a donation.
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Photo from the Internet
#115 -- This photo shows the magnificent Basilica of St. Augustine on the outskirts of Bône, Algeria, with a small part of the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Hippone (Hyppo Regius) in the foreground.
Looking downhill from the Basilica entrance, I could see the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Hippone. That ancient city dated back to the twelfth century BC, which is about four centuries before Carthage,
with which Hippone was associated. The great religious philosopher, St. Augustine, for whom the Basilica is
named, died here in 430 AD. Although it was lunchtime, and I was quite hungry and thirsty, I decided to continue my explorations.
The entrance to the ruins was through a gate near a house occupied by the keeper, a rather decent
looking Frenchman. He welcomed me in a friendly manner and collected a very small admittance fee. I was
the only person there. The site was grown up in weeds and bushes and it appeared to have been seldom visited in the recent past. The thing that interested me most was the amphitheater, which was smaller than the
ones I had recently seen at Carthage. The site is rather extensive, and there had once been many structures.
There were some fallen and standing columns, floors, destroyed walls, broken sculptures, etc., but no standing structures. I expect that many of the stones had been robbed for building the nearby Basilica. Having
brought a notebook and pencil with me, I made a quick sketch of the plan of the amphitheater and some of the
carved decorations.
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Sketch by Jim Farrior 26 Nov. 43
#114 --A quick pencil sketch m ade at the site of the Am phitheater at Hippone, Algeria,
an ancient Rom an Cit y on the outskirts of Bône, Alg eria.
241
When I was ready to leave, I spotted some pomegranate bushes laden with ripe fruit. That fruit was
familiar to me because when I was a boy, the old Jim Farrior home in Letohatchie, Ala, had pomegranate
bushes in the yard planted by my grandfather. The lady who lived there would let me help myself. Pomegranates have an red-orange colored skin, resembling a dried orange skin, which contains a mass of small seeds,
each one surrounded by a pea-sized covering of sweet-sour, juicy pulp. Seated in the ancient amphitheater, I
ate two pomegranates, which partially satisfied my hunger and thirst. I picked several more and paid the
keeper for them when I left the site. On the walk back, it seemed that even filthier, meaner-looking Arabs
covered with equally filthy sheets populated the slum area through which I had previously passed. I’m sure
that some of them would just as soon kill me as look at me, so I walked in the middle of the road and stayed
as far away from them as I could. I had a feeling that my presence was not going unnoticed.
When I got back aboard the ship, I learned that our Chief Engineer had been attacked and robbed
while in town. He had been taken to a nearby military hospital, where a severe scalp wound was closed. He
now wears a huge bandage that resembles a turban. Fortunately, they took only the money in his billfold and
dropped his wallet with his identification, etc., which a bystander retrieved and returned to him. There was
more bad luck. This morning, before our arrival, Capt. Wilder became quite ill and he was taken to the military hospital. Unknown to us, he is diabetic, and it seems that he had used some insulin that was defective. He
is said to be OK now, and will be back aboard tomorrow with a new supply of insulin.
68th day, Bône, Algeria, 28 Nov. 43 - Jack Smithwick and I went to the Majestic Theatre to see a
stage show. This old building must have been quite the Ritz in its day. Now it shows bomb damage, and the
once elegant interior is quite deteriorated. Jack and I arrived late and all of the good seats had been taken, but
the British Captain in charge of the show put us in the Committee Box, which has the best seats in the house.
The entire cast and the musicians are British military personnel, and we were very impressed by the talent
they displayed. The show was strictly a British comedy about life in England, and I don’t think that Jack understood all of it. However, I enjoyed every minute of it, and realized how much I had missed British humor.
74th day, Departure from Bône, Algeria, Saturday, 4 Dec. 43 - We sailed from Bône today with
several other ships and joined a convoy headed for Norfolk. I must now go back to work. For me, the stay at
Bône had been like an exciting 2 ½ month vacation with pay. Even the anticipated air raids didn’t occur.
When I first saw Bône, I had been repulsed by the initial impression, and thought that my stay would be miserable. Instead, the place grew on me, and I would wake up every morning wondering what interesting things
I would experience that day. If I had stayed there a year, there would still have been a choice of new things to
see and do. Because of our prolonged voyage, much of our food that we brought aboard in the U.S. is running
out, and we must augment it with a lot of military field rations that we got in Bône. Even so, it is not very bad
as the cans are opened in the galley and the food is served on plates, and served hot where appropriate.
95th day, Arrival in Norfolk, Virginia, Saturday, Christmas, 25 Dec. 43 - We arrived at Norfolk
today after an uneventful trip with reasonably good weather and no attack alerts. If possible, I will make a
quick trip home. It is good to be back in the U.S.A. There has been a heavy snow here.
A trip home in January 1944. -- The locomotive explosion at Letohatchie
When it was learned that the ship would be in port for at least a week, I asked Capt. Wilder for permission to go home for several days. I took an early bus to Washington, D.C., and from there took a flight
bound for Montgomery, thru Birmingham. I missed my plane connection in Birmingham, and a private pilot
who was at the airport offered to fly me to Montgomery in his small plane. I mentioned to him that I had taken flying lessons, so after we were aloft, he turned the controls over to me until we were ready to land. Knowing my destination, he selected a large, level cow pasture beside the Mobile highway south of Montgomery as
a place to land. After a few passes to clear the cows and inspect the surface, he put the plane down beside the
highway just inside the fence. I thanked the pilot for his help, and the flying lesson, and he refused to accept
any payment. He said that he liked to help “the boys” when he could. After waving goodbye to him as he
took off, I climbed over the barbed-wire fence and caught a ride a few miles to the Letohatchie highway,
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where a black man I didn’t know stopped and gave me a lift to my house in town. It was wonderful to be
back home in Letohatchie with Mother, Joe, and Melvin. Anne was in Harlingen, Texas, with her husband
Don Slesnick, and their baby son, Donny Slesnick (b. 11-7-43). Don is in the army.
Letohatchie, Ala., Monday, 3 Jan. 44 – Exhausted from the trip, and from talking until late, I had
planned to sleep in the next morning. Around 8 AM, I was awakened by a very strong concussion that ra ttled everything in the house! Not fully awake, my first thoughts were of bombs and torpedoes. Obviously,
something awful had happened. I threw on some clothes and ran toward the depot. Upon arriving at the depot, I could hardly believe my eyes. A huge locomotive, minus the carriage assembly that remained on the
rails, had been blown into a long, high trajectory. It landed on the highway overpass, and had destroyed the
western section of the fairly new reinforced concrete structure. The depot platform and the front corner of
the depot, which contained the office, were severely damaged. Some folks were already on the scene when
I arrived, and others quickly appeared. The engineer, a Mr. Collier of Montgomery, had been killed instantly, and his body was on the undamaged part of the platform and was being covered with a tarp. The fireman
had miraculously survived, having been blown off the tender to the track below, but was severely injured.
My cousin Henry Farrior, who had been at the station, and Frisco Davis, the station agent, had both sustained injuries. The injured were loaded into cars, which headed for the hospital in Montgomery, which
was not a very quick trip in those days. Henry and Frisco’s injuries were minor, except that black cinders
were blown into their exposed skin, permanently tattooing them. Henry got the brunt of it on his face, and
it marked him for life.
Photo from The Mont gom ery Advertiser
#110) – The train explosion at Letohatchie, Ala. on Jan. 3, 1944. The buil ding in t he
background is the L&N depot. (See #106)
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It was a freak accident. The train had stopped at the water tank across the track from the depot to
take on water, and the fireman had failed to notice that the engine’s water tank and boiler were essentially
empty. Apparently, while making ready to put the water in the engine’s water tank, the remainder of the
water had evaporated so that the boiler was dry and extremely hot. When the water hit the hot boiler, it was
instantly converted into superheated steam. The sudden, tremendous pressure blew the bottom out of the
boiler, and the tremendous force caused the huge, heavy engine to become airborne. The blast also did considerable damage to the depot.
The weather was quite cold, and I spent the time relaxing indoors and talking with the family. My
brother Joe was ill while I was there. Note: Strangely, my short notes don’t indicate whether I saw Teeny
Jenkins while at home. Perhaps they were not at home. Except for my mother, she and Jim Coleman were the
main people who corresponded with me regularly while I was on the Isle of Man. End note.
Letohatchie, Ala., Thursday, 6 Jan. 44, - I received a wire from Capt. Wilder telling me to report
to the ship in Norfolk in preparation for leaving on the next voyage. The next day, I said goodbye to Joe
and Melvin, and Mother drove me to the Montgomery airport. I returned to Norfolk by way of Washington,
D.C., arriving at the ship on January 8th.
Fourth Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (Norfolk, Va. to Bosto n)
The fourth voyage was an uneventful solo cruise from Norfolk to Boston, leaving Norfolk about Jan
10th and arriving Boston on January 12th. Solo coastal voyages are more dangerous than crossing the ocean
in a convoy, and many ships have been lost within sight of the U.S. coast. The cities are lit up, and submarines spot the ships as silhouettes against the city lights.
Boston, Mass., Monday, Jan. 24, 44 - I went to the MIT campus in Cambridge and looked into the
cost and other requirements for going to school there. They gave me a booklet giving the entrance requirements, the course content, the tuition fees, and information on housing cost. It is quite obvious that I wouldn’t
nearly have the funds, nor would I meet the entrance requirements. I would have to go first to some other college and take a number of make-up subjects that were not taught in my high school. In addition to the high
tuition cost, the cost of room and board would be much too high here. The cost of tuition at the Alabama Polytechnic Institute at Auburn is very low, and I could attend the entire four years there for about the cost of one
year at MIT. At Auburn, I would also have the advantage of being in my home state where I was raised and
where my relatives live. I have been away long enough. Note: During my professional career, I attended several courses and conferences at MIT, and visited there many times in connection with the development of inertial guidance systems for missiles and space vehicles. End note.
Fifth Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (Boston to Hull, Eng.)
1st day, Departure from Boston, Wednesday, 2 Feb. 44 - We are headed for Halifax, Nova Scotia,
but don’t yet know where we will deliver the cargo that we loaded in Boston.
3rd day, Arrival at Halifax, N.S., Friday, 4 Feb. 44. Here I am back in Halifax, the port from
which I had sailed on 9 Oct. 41 aboard the HMTS Andes bound for England. I have had many experiences
since them. As before, the harbor is filled with ships, and many military people are on the streets. Halifax is
an interesting old town, and I regret that our stay here will not be long enough to permit me to do any exploration. After attending the convoy conference, Captain Wilder, Lt. Archer, and I had a fine seafood dinner at
the Green Lantern Restaurant, where I previously had a steak dinner on Oct. 8, 1941. The day after the convoy conference in Halifax, we sailed in a large convoy headed for the U.K.
20th day, Atlantic Ocean, Monday, 21 Feb. 44 - When approaching the northern coast of Ireland, it
became extremely foggy. This kind of weather was very bad for navigation, but made it relatively safe from
submarine attack. Some ships have already left the convoy, and are traveling alone or in small groups to their
destinations. We left the convoy today and are traveling alone headed for Oban, Scotland. The weather has
prevented astronomical navigation, and Capt. Wilder directed me to take radio bearings each hour. This has
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provided a very good track of our position. The fog cleared and we arrived at Oban on Feb. 22. At Oban, we
were instructed to depart immediately to Methil, on the Firth of Forth, Scotland, where we arrived on February 24. I had attended a convoy conference at Methil on 16 June 1943, shortly after I originally joined the
Chandler. I well remember that day because the conference was held at an RAF base, and I was able to take a
practice ride in a dive-bomber. At Methil, we were directed to continue on to Hull.
24th day, Arrival at Hull, England, Friday, 25 Feb. 44 - We arrived at Hull, where I had originally
joined the Chandler on June 8, 1943. Since then, I had gained a considerable experience as a seaman, having
returned to the U.K. (Southampton, England), and also having made a voyage to the Mediterranean (Bône,
Algeria). When I had left Hull the first time, I never would have guessed that I would ever return here. It was
quite evident that Hull had received a considerable amount of bomb damage since my previous visit, especially in the docks area. We understand that raids still occur from time to time. Capt. Wilder gave me permission
to spend a week in London so I will leave tomorrow.
A visit to London from Hull, England
25th day, Visit to London, Saturday, 26 Feb. 44 - Upon arriving in London, I went to the old
American Eagle Club Dorm at Princes Garden and discovered that it had been renamed the American Red
Cross Princess Garden Club. I hated to see the name change, but was glad to be able to get a place to stay.
The next morning, I went to the American Embassy to see Jack Boor, whose office was at Carlos Place. The
same old Jack! It was good to see him! He was in good sprits, and has a job just made for him. He said that
Harold Wright, the ex-CTC member who had served at Bride, I.O.M., was also working there, but Hal was
not in. Jack said that he and Jessie had married the previous week! I had really wondered if that would ever
happen, as everything had worked against them since they became engaged while on the Isle of Man. I just
missed seeing Jessie because Jack had just sent her to Scotland, as he didn't want to expose her to the increased bombing that was going on in London at the time.
I had another surprise when Helena Day dropped by Jack's office. She had been George Fulton's girl
friend when we were at Scarlett Point. Helen was no longer in the WAAF. She had been a sergeant, and was
the most senior WAAF operator at Scarlett Point. She had stopped by to see if Jack had a current address for
George. It was lunchtime, so I took Helena to the Embassy’s cafeteria where we had a nice lunch and talked
about old times on the Isle of Man. She gave me her address and asked me to let her know if I learned
George’s address.
#118 -- Note from Helena Day, George Fulton’s girl friend from
Scarlett
I also saw Dick Condon, who had been in the CTC and is now
Jack's boss. While I was on the Isle of Man, Dick had sent me a letter
wanting to know if I were available for a job with him. Dick has been
busy establishing Armed forces Radio Network stations in the U.K,
and is now making big plans for a network on the continent when that
front is opened. Note: Dick told me something of considerable significance, but I didn't realize it at the time. He said that there had been
considerable concern in his circles about the fact that reconnaissance photos taken over France indicated that
the Germans were constructing what appeared to be launching ramps for some kind of weapon. He had heard
that it was perhaps for launching flying bombs piloted by suicide pilots. He said that the military was very
concerned about it. It turned out that Germany was preparing for an assault by a new weapon, a non-piloted
aircraft called the V-1. In the period between June 13, 1944, through March 29, 1945, 8,000 V-1s were
launched against London. The V-1 was very inaccurate and fairly easy to intercept, but 2,400 of them hit in
the intended area causing much damage and loss of life. End note.
The American Red Cross Eagle Club was visited several times, but I didn't see anyone that I knew. A
different gang is there now. Previously, it was reserved for Americans in the British Service, but nearly eve-
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ryone I saw was in American uniform. The atmosphere is entirely different, and is now like any other service
club. When I presented my old American Eagle Club card to the lady at the desk, she gave me a letter addressed to all members of the original American Eagle Club containing the minutes of a meeting that had
been held on January 27, 1944. It had been the organizational meeting of a new club, to be called the "Original American Eagle Club", and the intent was that it be carried on in the U.S. after the war. At the meeting, an
Executive Committee had been formed and officers had been elected. Meetings were to be held on the last
Thursday of each month, beginning February 24, 1944, at the Eagle Club. Membership in the old Eagle Club
would be automatically transferred and new cards would be distributed at that meeting. That means that I am
a member of the new club, but have no way to get a membership card. I stayed in London visiting new and
familiar places until March 23. While I was in London, there were two air raids, one of which was rather bad.
On that one, I was hurrying after dark along the sidewalk just outside Hyde Park, and was headed for an Underground entrance because the air raid alarm had sounded. The sky was beginning to fill with searchlight
beams and anti-aircraft fire. Suddenly, an extremely loud roar, a concussion, and a swishing sound from a
very close location within the park startled me. Somebody told me later that it was probably the new "rocket
guns" being fired. I was very relieved when I was able to take shelter in the Underground station.
32nd day, London, 3 March 1944 - Since I only drew £15, both my money and my time are running
out, so I will take a morning train to Hull. I’ve really enjoyed this visit to London. I had a chance to see some
old friends, to visit, or revisit, some interesting places, and to see a few good movies. It has been another paid
vacation. .
34th day, Hull, 5 March 44 - I enjoyed the scenery on the way back to Hull. If I had had the necessary money, I could have stayed a week longer, because the unloading has gone slowly. We also must take on
some rubble as ballast. On 8 March, I received a letter from Teeny saying that my mother had been to Harlingen, Texas, to visit Anne, Don, and baby Donny, and that it appears that Don may be sent over seas. That’s
the first letter that I’ve had from Teeny in a long time. On 10 March, I sent a V-Mail to mother, to be passed
on to Mamère (my maternal grandmother), Aunt Grace, and Aunt Josephine, who live in Montgomery.
45th day, Departure from Hull, 16 March 44 - We are leaving today. My stay in Hull has been rather nice. I’ve seen some good movies, have been dancing at the YPI, and have had several dates with a very
pretty girl named Doreen Culliney, who gave me her address and wants me to write to her.
A visit to Montgomery -- I see Guy Coleman at the Union Station
67th day, Arrival at Brooklyn Naval Yard, N.Y., Saturday, 8 April 44 - We arrived in port after
an uneventful return from Hull. As our ship needs some repairs that require that it be placed in a dry dock, we
are at the Brooklyn Naval Yard. There was mail waiting for me dating from 22 Sept 43 to April 1 1944. There
is no telling how far some of those letters had traveled before finally catching up with me. In a letter from
Mother, she said that Melvin’s job as a telegrapher has been moved from Letohatchie to the Dispatcher’s Office in the Union Station at Montgomery. She drives him to work each day from Montgomery, and stays with
Mamère during the day, and then returns to Letohatchie in the evening. They will soon purchase a home in
Montgomery. I told Capt. Wilder that I wanted to stay with the ship, and he said that I could go home for a
few days. I sent a telegram to Mother and Melvin, c/o the Dispatcher’s Office, saying that I would arrive
Montgomery on the eleven thirty train Thursday night, April 13th.
On Thursday, 13 April 44, as I stepped down from my train that had just arrived in Montgomery
from New York, I heard someone yell, “Hey, Jim”. I turned and saw Guy, looking great in his Navy uniform,
on his way to board his train to New York after a visit to his home in Hayneville, seven miles from Letohatchie. Guy is Jimmy Coleman’s brother, and he and I made an adventurous 14-day trip (25 Aug. to 6 Sept.) in
1940 down the Alabama River in a small paddleboat. I had not seen Guy since our return from that trip. We
had only about a minute to talk, as Guy’s train had already been called. Both of our ships were docked at the
Brooklyn Navy Yard base. I promised him that I would look him up when I returned, but his ship left before I
returned to New York on 19 April. Note: Sadly, when I saw Guy, he had less than three weeks to live. Guy R.
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Coleman, Signalman First Class, died in action in the U.S. Navy on 3 May 1944 when his Naval Vessel, the
escort destroyer USS Donnell, on which he served as Signalman First Class, was struck by a torpedo in the
North Atlantic. I was the last person from “home” to have seen Guy. When Guy’s ship was torpedoed, my
ship was in the same general area of the North Atlantic. End Note.
Mother and Melvin were at the train to meet me, and we arrived in Letohatchie about 30 minutes past
midnight. That made it a short night for Melvin. I spent a wonderfully restful visit. Every time I see Joe, he
has grown some more. One day, I spent the day in Montgomery with Mother, and we had a nice visit with my
grandmother, called Mamère by her grandchildren, and also with my Aunt Josephine Walker, my mother’s
sister.
Sixth Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (to Newport, Mo nmouthshire)
After returning to New York from my visit home on April 19, 1944, I bought a French language Linguaphone course that consisted of some phonograph records and study materials. I also bought a small record
player that fits nicely in the drawer under the sofa in my stateroom, and I can simply open the drawer and use
it in place. This is going to be very helpful to me in my French studies. My brother, Joe, and sister, Anne, are
using my record collection and record player that has a recording head. The next time I go home I will take
my small record player with me a swap it for the one with the recording head. Being able to record my lessons and compare it with the speech on the records would be helpful in my French studies.
About April 24, we sailed in a large convoy from New York bound for Great Britain. On this voyage, I have one assistant radio operator, whose name is Jim Woog. Note: On nearly the same date, my friend
Guy Coleman had also sailed for Great Britain aboard his escort destroyer, the USS Donnell. Our convoy encountered no enemy action on the crossing, but the convoy that Guy’s destroyer was protecting was attacked
on May 3, 1944. When searching for the submarine a torpedo struck his destroyer. Although his destroyer
was not sunk, it was severely damaged and put out of commission. Guy and some other shipmates were
killed, and Guy’s body was not recovered. His convoy and ours had to have been in the same general area of
the North Atlantic at that time. I didn’t learn of Guy’s tragic death until after I returned home from our voyage. End note.
As we approached Ireland, we received orders that we were to proceed to Newport, Monmouthshire,
a port on the Bristol Channel not far from Cardiff. I have no note, nor do I recall seeing the Isle of Man, and
expect we must have passed during the night. The Bristol Channel has very high tides, and the port of Newport must be entered through a lock at high tide. We arrived at Newport about May 15. After going through
the lock, we went alongside a dock where the ship will be unloaded. Note: On May 17, I wrote a letter home
telling Mother that I had arrived in Newport, but that we were restricted to the area and I would not be allowed to travel to London as I had hoped. I mentioned in the letter that there had been a heavy frost in the
area, so there would be little fruit here this year. I also said that I had seen some peaches on sale that were
priced at 10 shillings each (about $2.00) which says that some people here must have a lot of money. In the
letter, I also asked mother to send me the addresses for both Bill Colvard and Guy Coleman so I could write
to them. Of course, I didn’t know that Guy had died in action on May 3, two weeks before the date of my letter. Guy was the only man from Letohatchie to lose his life during the war. End note.
A visit to the ruins of the ancient Tintern Abbey in Monmouthshire
On May 21, a tour was arranged for persons off the ships here and in Cardiff to see some of the
countryside. A large doubledecker bus called at the docks and we rode slowly though Newport and through
the residential section. Some of the residential section is very nice, perhaps the nicest that I have seen in Britain, except perhaps at Bournemouth. The trip through the country was extremely scenic. We were taken to the
remains of Tintern Abbey, which had been one of the largest abbeys in the British Isles.
Having been told that it was the “ruins” of a late 13th century abbey, I was amazed when we arrived
on the scene and got our first view of the extensive ruins. The ruins were very large and some gave the ap-
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pearance that the buildings could serve again if the roofs were replaced. The original lead roofs had been
stripped from the buildings during the time of Henry VIII, and they had stood exposed to the elements for
nearly 400 years. As we walked through the towering ruins, I was impressed by the architectural features, and
the time, effort, resources, and skills that had gone into constructing the Abbey.
Aboard the bus was a man named Tarrant who is with the Office of War Information in London. His
office is in the American Embassy, and he knows Jack Boor, Harold Wright, and Dick Condon, my friends
and former CTC members who are now with the O.W.I. I first met Tarrant when I visited William C. White at
the O.W.I. office in New York City. Strangely, my assistant operator, Jim Woog, also knows Tarrant, having
gone to the Merchant Marine Academy Radio School with him. However, Tarrant did not become a radio
operator, but joined the Language Division of the O.W.I. It’s a small world.
From the Internet
#139 -- Tintern Abbey, a late 13th century abbey near the River Wye in Monmouthshire
Newport is literally run over by American soldiers who, in general, have not endeared themselves to
the local people. It is primarily a cultural problem, and the fact that the American soldiers appear to have
more money to spend than the British troops. However, the Brits who run shops, pubs, etc., are not complaining about that. The fact is that the American soldiers are poorly paid by American standards. Because of the
war, the British people have become extremely conservative with respect to their money, and the American
soldiers appear to spend freely the money that they receive. The kids around Newport ask the American’s,
“Gum chum?”, and I saw a jeep that has a sign on the bumper that says, “No gum chum.”
Many ships, after being unloaded, are being outfitted for the coming invasion. The ships will carry a
large number of troops, and nets are being installed on the ships so that soldiers aboard the ship would be able
to climb down into landing boats below. We have been told that we will be outfitted after our cargo has been
unloaded. The many ships equipped with nets are clearly visible to townspeople, which may account for the
rumors going around that the invasion will be around the first of the June. A few days before our cargo had
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been unloaded, we were told that our ship would not be outfitted. That meant that we would be returning
soon. I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of participating in the invasion.
Note: On 23rd May, while docked at Newport, I wrote a letter to the British Air Ministry in London
requesting a statement of wages paid to me while I served in the CTC. It was required for income tax purposes. Upon my return to New York, I received a reply dated 2nd June, 1944, addressed to J.S. Farrior, Esq., and
signed by G.W. Telferd, the Under Secretary of State, which said: “In reply to your letter dated 23rd May,
1944, the amount of Wages paid to you during your service with the Civilian Technical Corps in this country
was £563, 7, 8d.” It is funny that when I was in the CTC, my letters from the CTC were always addressed
simply to Farrior, no “Mr.” or other title. However, in the letter from the Under Secretary of State, I rated
“Esquire”. End note.
After our cargo had been unloaded, we went to another pier to load some rubble as ballast. After our
ship was loaded, we moved away from the pier without the benefit of a tug and with little room to maneuver.
The ship was suddenly caught in a wind that caused us to drift slowly over to the nearby side of the harbor
where many canal type boats were rafted several boats deep against a stone wall. When our massive ship
came into contact with the small boats, there were many crunching noises and I know that some of them must
have been severely structural damaged, perhaps even sunk. We heard nothing about it.
We receive news of the D Day invasion of France
About May 26, we sailed for home, and On June 6, we heard on the radio that the invasion had begun. Although I was not required to copy and post the news sent out by “Press Wireless”, I copied and posted
it for several of days until we began receiving American broadcast stations. Clearly the invasion will be successful, and will eventually lead to the end of the war in Europe, but the loss of life is very heavy.
Arrival at New York, 10 June 44 - I sent a wire home letting Mother know that I had arrived safely
back in the U.S. I was happy to receive some not very recent letters from Mother. She said that they had
bought a home on Hampton Street, near Oak Park, in Montgomery and that things will be much easier for
them when they have moved in and will not have the daily commute from Letohatchie to Montgomery. She is
also happy that they will have running water, a good cook stove, and an inside toilet. Their lot will be large
enough for her to have her chicken yard, and a small garden as well.
I also received a letter from the United States Maritime Service dated June 1, 1944, confirming my
appointment as an Ensign. Also received was a letter from the Selective Service Board in Atlanta to the effect
that I had been placed in Class 1-A under a new directive, and had been held in that class until they had received a confirmation from the War Shipping Administration as to my service. That having been received, I
was reclassified in Class 2-B until Dec. 9, 1944, at which time a new confirmation must be furnished.
A vist home to Montgomery -- News of Guy Coleman’s death received
I took advantage of the opportunity to visit home. Their new home in Montgomery is very nice, and I
had a good visit. However, being in Montgomery was not like being in Letohatchie where all of my friends
lived. The visit home was saddened by the news that my good friend Guy Coleman had been killed in action
on May 3. My mother had just learned of this. Note: Although I had told about this in a previous note, this
was the first time that I had heard about it. End note. The return trip from home to New York seemed very
long because it was very hot and I didn’t get an air-conditioned car until I arrived in Washington. I had carried the small record player home and took my player/recorder back with me, along with a supply of blank
recording disks. That would equip me for some serious French study.
Seventh Voyage of the S.S. John Chandler (N.Y. to Ancona, Italy)
The ship had been loaded rather quickly, and when I arrived in New York on June 26, I found the
ship loaded and almost ready to depart. I supervised the erection of the antennas, checked out the equipment,
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and before sailing, the ship was moved into the bay and turned 360 degrees to calibrate the ship’s compass
and the radio direction finder.
Departure from New York, 30 June 44 - The S.S. John Chandler sailed alone from New York to
Norfolk, where we joined a rather large convoy bound for the Mediterranean by the southern route. At first, I
had expected that this voyage would be to France to support the invasion. Capt. Wilder, and Max Stern were
still with the ship. The weather was wonderfully warm and sunny. What a change from the North Atlantic!
We sailed by Gibraltar without stopping, and continued on past Oran, Algiers, and Bône, where we had delivered our cargo on a previous voyage. We saw some familiar scenery, but were often out of sight of the African coast. After passing Bizerte, Cape Blanc, Gulf of Tunis, Cape Bon, Pantelleria, and Cape Bon, we sailed
between the southernmost point of Sicily and Malta. While still over 100 miles away, we could see Mt. Etna
rising in the distance and emitting a stream of smoke. Our convoy had become much smaller as ships had left
our convoy at various points.
Arrival at Augusta Bay, Sicily, 23 July 44 - Our ship had received instructions by coded radiogram
to leave the convoy and proceed to Augusta Bay on the Eastern coast of Sicily, where we were to await further sailing instructions. At the mouth of the harbor, a pilot came aboard to take us to our anchorage. There
were several ships sunk in the bay. Also, there were some destroyed aircraft, including three Italian seaplanes.
Immediately after anchoring, "bum-boats" came out loaded with Sicilians wanting to buy cigarettes and offering to pay for them with gold seal U.S. invasion notes. Late that evening, while standing on the deck, I took
the opportunity to make a pencil sketch of a nearby Liberty Ship with Mt. Etna in the background.
Pencil sketch by Jim Farrior, July 1944
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#98.gif -- Mt. Et na wi th a Li berty Ship in t he foreground, as seen at dusk from the deck
of our ship, the S.S. John Chandler, lying at anchor in A ugusta Bay, Sicily. Astern of
the Liberty ship are t he m asts and boom s of another Li berty Ship that had been sunk at
anchor in an air raid.
The weather was beautiful, and the water was so crystal clear that we could see the bottom when
looking over the side of the deck. The next morning, we lowered a Jacob's ladder and went swimming. We
also lowered a lifeboat and erected the mast so we could do some sailing in beautiful Augusta Bay. Our typical sailing crew consisted of Capt. Wilder (Master), Tom Murnane, (Chief Engineer), Chicos (Chief Mate),
Max Stirn (Second Mate), Ed (First Engineer), Marion Parr (Purser), Jim Woog (Second Radio Officer), and
myself. The boat sailed rather well, except that it had no centerboard. We got around that by using a sheet of
plywood that we would put on the leeward side of the boat. Two huge C clamps from the engine room
clamped it to the gunnel. Whenever we would come about, we would have to change the board over to the
other side, which was a bother, but it allowed us to get in some very good sailing. We sailed for several hours
each day, and we became almost as brown as the Sicilians.
Max Stirn, Marion Parr, Jimmy Woog and I went ashore and visited the town of Augusta. It was very
dirty, with many dirty-faced kids running around. Only non-military age men were present, and nearly all
were dark and swarthy. Already, life was returning to the town. An 8-year old boy, named Sebastian, who
amazingly spoke fair English, led us to a barbershop, where we all got a haircut. I worried about catching
some kind of scalp disease, or worse, as the cloth they put around us was extremely dirty and smelly. There
was also a souvenir shop, which had been set up to sell souvenirs to military personnel. However, the soldiers
have moved on to battlefronts in Italy. The lady at the shop offered to pay us $6.00 per carton for cigarettes.
That was a good price considering that they cost us 65 cents per carton. However, we didn’t have any to sell
and we are not allowed to sell things from the slop chest. After about a week of delightful waiting, we received orders to proceed to Taranto and await further orders.
Arrival at Taranto, Italy, 6 Aug. 44 - The harbor at Taranto was chock full of ships of all kinds, including many warships and submarines. Many of the warships are surrendered Italian vessels, and we were
told that the large Italian Cruiser anchored near us sank two British cruisers at the battle of Pantelleria. Max
and I went ashore a couple of times, but the place was so filthy, and smelled so bad that we didn't stay long. A
small trolley was in operation, and we rode in it. The smell of body odor and garlic was sickening. Bombing
and shelling had destroyed much of the town. On August 9, we received orders to continue on to Bari, on the
Adriatic.
Arrival at Bari, Italy, 11 Aug 44 - On the night of Dec. 2, 1943, a flight of German bombers, without having been detected, struck the crowded harbor at Bari. In a very short period of time, seventeen merchant ships were sunk, or destroyed when their cargoes of ammunition exploded, causing the death of over
1,500 people in and around the harbor. The loss of so many ships, and their critically needed cargoes and personnel, was a major disaster. Even some 8 months later, the magnitude of the disaster was apparent as we entered the harbor, which was still filled with the sunken and destroyed ships. One sunken Liberty ship that I
saw had a huge hole through the Chief Radio Officer’s stateroom.
Max had heard before we left on the voyage that his friend Jim Farran, whom we had met in Tunis,
was stationed in Bari, so we went ashore and learned from the military post office that he was in a local military hospital. We located him and found that he was recovering from an infected arm. Not many days after we
had last seen Max, he had been transferred and had arrived in Bari on a ship just before the 17 ships had been
sunk. He believed the story that was going around that the military had tied the hundreds of bodies together as
they were found, and had let them float beside a dock while they decided what to do with them. We had a
nice visit with Jim, who enjoyed talking with Max about things back home. At Bari, we unloaded some of our
deck cargo and loaded a number of tanks, along with their Polish officers and crews. They were headed for
the front, which was just above Ancona. Two British officers who would be in charge of our cargo also came
aboard. Bunk space and a seat in the Officers Saloon Mess were found for the two British officers, but the
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Polish tank officers and tank crew members had to eat field rations and make do with whatever deck space
they could find. During a rain, they would be allowed to come into the companionways to take shelter. After
about a week, we received orders to sail for Ancona, where our main cargo was to be unloaded.
When we were leaving Bari for Ancona, we received a signal telling us to backtrack to Brindisi.
When we arrived at Brindisi, we were told to wait at anchor. After about two days, we received orders to sail
to Ancona, by way of Bari, in the company of a British Liberty Ship. We arrived about midnight at Bari, but
were not admitted to the harbor. After an hour's wait outside the harbor, we were told that we were easy WBoat targets and we were ordered to steam back toward Brindisi for four hours and then return. Upon our return to Bari, we joined a small convoy leaving Bari for Ancona. We had a captured Italian destroyer with us,
that had been put to work, complete with the crew. We had been told that it would lead us on a path that
would be the safest with respect to mines that had not yet been swept. When .the Italian destroyer commander
attempted to take up a position behind us, Capt. Wilder figured that we must be in a dangerous area and had
our Navy signalman send a message by signal lamp saying that we would not continue unless the destroyer
returned to the lead position. The destroyer immediately returned to its position. Capt. Wilder always seemed
to know how to handle every situation.
Arrival at Ancona -- A visit to the Front
Arrival in Ancona, 26 Aug. 44 - We had done a lot of extra sailing, but we finally arrived at Ancona
without mishap. Ancona was practically destroyed, having been bombed from the air and shelled from the
land and sea. We tied up at a pier and they began immediately to unload the tanks, together with their equipment and crews, so that they could move up to the front near Senigalia, nearly 20 miles to the north. On the
way up from Bari, the British officers had eaten at the Radio Officer’s table, as there were two vacant seats.
Max and I had spent some time talking with them and they had suggested that we might find it interesting to
visit the front as the Germans were in retreat.
A visit to the front, 27 Aug. 44 - As was usually the case, we had to unload the ship using our own
cargo boons and winches. We had many tons of bagged flour aboard, and military supplies of all kinds. Of
interest was a large shipment of supplies destined for an officer’s club. Surely that was considered to be high
priority stuff. There were many cases of various brands of whiskey, wine, etc. In a moment when it was not
well guarded, some of our crew hid a number of cases of beer, and another case that turned out, when opened,
to be hundreds of fountain pens. Although the word got around, as did the beer and fountain pens, I don’t
think anybody told Capt. Wilder about it. Even if they had, I don’t think that he would have done anything
that could have threatened the manning of his ship.
After the cargo unloading was underway, Max and I decided to visit the front, which was not very far
above Ancona. We could hear the sound of the heavy artillery, and at night we could see the flashes in the
sky. We caught a ride on a truck to a point just outside of town, and while we were waiting for another ride,
one of the tanks that we had brought up from Bari came by. The Polish officer standing in the hatch recognized us and offered a ride. We climbed aboard and crowded in beside him in the small hatch. We moved
slowly in a steady single-file stream of traffic consisting of tanks, gun carriers, heavy trucks, personnel carriers, motorcycles, and Jeeps, all headed for the front. I could feel the hot air rising from the interior of the tank,
and wondered how the crew could function in such an environment. Two lanes had been cleared because
there were also many returning vehicles. The Germans were in retreat, and they were destroying everything of
military value as they left. Even the rails of the railroad track beside the road had been pulled up and bent to
prevent the track from being put back into use. They also committed atrocities and burned many buildings.
At Senigalia, the tank on which we were riding pulled off to join a group of Polish tanks in an area
beside the road. We got off and thanked the Polish officer for the ride. The Polish forces were doing the
fighting on this front and the British were providing support. We soon caught a ride on a Polish truck that was
moving slowly toward the front. On each side of the road were stacks of mines that had been cleared from the
unpaved road, and many men were working alongside the road to remove more mines. They were using
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pitchforks for searching, as the mines were non magnetic. Many of the Polish soldiers were women, who
were carrying weapons and apparently fight alongside the men. The truck carried us about five miles north of
Senigalia, at which point we caught a ride with a Polish officer in a Jeep. All of the forward movement
stopped, and a little further up the road there was a white tape stretched across the road, marking the point
beyond which the mines had not been cleared. The officer pointed at the hillside in front of us and said "Jerries". So this was the front!
There were tanks standing around, and many Polish troops were searching for mines. Heavy guns
were firing from time to time from a point behind a nearby clump of trees, and we could see the shells striking the hillside. The Jerries were believed to be still occupying an old monastery up on the hill, and while we
were watching we saw one of the shells blow off a corner of the ancient building. The road had obviously
been cleared ahead of us for a short distance to a point where the retreating Germans had blown up a bridge a
few hours earlier. We stepped over the white tape and walked up to that point. Near the destroyed bridge site,
there were a few British troops who were apparently in charge of mine removal. They seemed happy to talk
with someone who spoke English, and demonstrated the Polish mine detector (pitchfork), which they said
was very effective. They also took one of the mines apart to show us how they were made. I asked where the
front-line troops were, and they said that they were to the rear of us, waiting for further orders. It seemed that
at that time the shelling was keeping the Germans in retreat. They told us that we were ahead of the tanks and
the heavy guns, because they could not be brought up until the road was cleared and the Engineers had put the
bridge back in service. They said that a small scouting party had moved up towards Fano, a small town just
ahead.
Max and I thanked the soldiers and apologized for having held up their war efforts for a moment, and
then went back to the white tape to try to catch a ride back to Ancona. A Polish soldier came up in a jeep, saluted, and asked Max in pretty good English if he were going to rebuild the bridge. He must have thought that
Max was in command there. Max told him about the situation ahead, and the soldier walked up to the destroyed bridge. When he returned, we were glad to learn that the driver had some dispatches to be taken back
to Ancona, so we stayed with him and his Jeep. On the way back to Ancona, we learned that the driver was a
Pole, who had served two years as a driver in the Polish Army, and had been captured by the Germans early
in the war. He served in the German Army as a driver for three years. He was recently captured by the Poles
and is now back in the Polish Army delivering dispatches. We arrived back at the ship without mishap. Although shorter, the trip to the front had been about as exciting as the trip that Max and I took in September
1943 from Bône, Algeria, to Tunis, Tunisia, and return.
A stone’s throw away from our ship was a large, sunken luxury yacht that had belonged to King Victor. Max and I went aboard the sunken yacht and found that some people were living aboard it. Although it
was quite destroyed and vandalized, it had not burned, and one could tell from the carved marble tubs and
woodwork, etc., that it had been very luxurious. We were told that it had been a royal yacht. One of the men
told me that he had an uncle who was a citizen of the United States, and he gave me for almost nothing a
large German battle flag that he said came from the German field headquarters at Senigalia, which had been
captured a few days before. The man said that he was afraid to keep it. Note: I still have it in 2003. End note.
On Sept. 1, after our ship had been unloaded, we received orders to join several others in a small
convoy and head for home. Along the way we picked up other ships and before we passed Gibraltar we had a
large convoy of ships and a good escort.
Instead of going home, we are redirected to go to Cuba.
A few days after passing Gibraltar, we received a coded radio message telling us to proceed to Puerto
Padre, Cuba, where we were to pick up a load of sugar to be delivered to a refinery in New York. That was
bad news because we had been gone for a long time and were running short of critical food items. At an appropriate point we left the convoy and proceeded alone to Cuba.
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Puerto Padre is located on the north-central coast of Cuba, and we entered a spacious bay through a
relatively small mouth. It was good to see land again. After we had anchored in the bay, we were met by a
long sleek, mahogany launch. A man dressed in a white suit and white straw hat, in spite of the extreme heat,
was standing on the front deck with three canvas bags. He yelled a welcome in English and asked that a line
be lowered. He passed the bags up one at a time and said that they were for the Captain, compliments of the
Cuban American Sugar Company. The launch immediately sped away.
Upon opening the bags, it was found that one bag contained a number of bottles of rum, another was
full of cokes, and the last one had several boxes of fine Cuban cigars. As the crewmembers were not allowed
to have “grog” aboard the ship, Capt. Wilder had the rum put in his private storage area, along with some of
the cokes and a box of the cigars. The remaining cigars and Cokes were distributed among the crew. He gave
each of the ship’s officers several cigars, and told them that he would distribute the bottles of rum when we
arrived back in the States.
The next day, the ship went alongside a pier where the sugar was to be loaded. It was brown sugar in
approximately 80-pound bags -- many thousands of them. The bags were stacked manually on a pallet. Our
boons and winches would lift the pallets up above deck level and then down into the hold. Once in the hold,
they were manually carried and stacked. The stevedores were amazingly strong, and had tremendous endurance. They could work a long shift of moving those heavy sacks of sugar in the extremely hot climate.
An experience to remember in Cuba
There was a narrow gauge railway that ran between the dock area and the mill and refinery in Delicius, a rather small town perhaps less than 12 miles away. There were spur lines that ran out into the huge
sugar can plantation for the purpose of hauling the cut cane stalks to the mill and refinery. One evening, Tom
Murnane, the Chief Engineer, Max Stirn, the second mate, and I made arrangements for us to be given a ride
from the dock to Delicius in the company’s model A Ford that had railroad wheels and ran on the track. The
rail bed was not meant for speed, so we rocked and bumped along slowly to the center of town in Delicius.
The driver said that he would wait for us there until we were ready to return. He asked if we could give him a
little money so he could have a beer and something to eat. No problem.
The first thing we spotted was a nearby park that had a paved tennis court around which a crowd had
gathered. Off to the side, and looking down on the tennis court was a tower that belonged to the police, and a
uniformed policeman was manning it. We could hear Cuban music coming from the area, and we went over
to investigate. There was a public dance being held on the tennis court, and a number of couples were dancing. Some girls came over and pulled us out onto the court, and we quickly learned that Cuban dancing was
something that would require a lot of learning and practice. The girls made motions indicating that they were
thirsty and pulled us over to a little rum and soft drink stand, where we bought them and ourselves a drink.
At the stand was a sorry looking Cuban man who had been at the stand far too long. In fact, he was
not at all steady on his feet. Upon spotting us, he staggered over to Tom, put his hand on Tom’s shoulder to
steady himself, and told Tom in a very slurred voice that he used to work for the National Cash Register
Company. That seemed to be his entire English vocabulary, because when Tom asked him to please leave
him alone, he simply repeated that he used to work for the National Cash Register Company. Tom told the
man to please take his hand off him, and when he didn’t, he gave the man a shove. Unfortunately, the man
was quick enough to grab Tom’s uniform and as he fell, he pulled Tom down with him.
Tom got to his feet, quite provoked, and told the man to stand clear of him. The man had changed to
Spanish, and we didn’t know what he was saying. However, he didn’t touch Tom again. We thought the incident was over, but in a moment two mounted policeman appeared and, with weapons drawn, marched the
three of us and the horrible man over to the jail at the foot of the watch tower. We were all placed in the same
cell.
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The cell was one of several that faced an alley right off the main street, which we learned later was
for the purpose of letting the townspeople come in to feed the prisoners. The cell was not well lighted, but we
could see people passing on the street. At that point the man, who had fallen to the floor upon being put in the
cell, staggered to his feet and mumbled that he used to work for the National Cash Register Company. That
was all that Tom could take, and he grabbed the man, threw him to the floor, and told him not to get up. He
demonstrated that he would stomp him if he did. Tom was really upset.
We became more and more worried concerning what was going to happen. Thoughts of rotting in a
Cuban jail mandated that some action be taken. We began shouting every time someone would pass on the
street. Finally a man walked back to our cell. Fortunately he spoke some English, so we were able to tell him
what had happened. At one point the man on the floor interrupted, saying again that he used to work for the
National Cash Register Company. We were told that there was a well-known American living nearby, and he
would ask him to come and see what could be done to get our release.
Within an hour, a nicely dressed man came into to alley and introduced himself. We told him our story, to which I felt that he saw a humorous side. It was not clear to me why this man, an American, was living
in this town, but he said what we wanted to hear. He said that he would get us out. He walked out of the alley
and returned in a few moments with the jailer, who opened the cell gate and indicated that we could leave. At
that point, the man on the floor suddenly got up and started out. Tom pushed him back in and indicated to the
jailer that he should lock the gate, which he did. We thanked the jailer and our benefactor, and went in search
of our driver so we could return to the ship.
There was a bar across the road from where our car was located, and we looked in. Sure enough, he
was there, and he didn’t look to me to be in good shape. We accompanied the unsteady driver over to the car
and we all got in. Coming to Delicius, he had run the car at a slow, careful speed, but this time he pushed the
throttle to the floor and the car went reeling and bumping along on the uneven rail bed. We yelled at him
when we saw a curve coming up, but he simply gave a crazed laugh and sped into the curve. Perhaps this was
the way he always returned from the bar in Delicius, but it surely scared the daylights out of us.
That had been a night to remember, and I could have stayed aboard ship until time to leave. However,
when we had been making arrangements for the use of the rail car, we had met Senior Henrique Molanet Paz,
who was the manager of the sugar company. He had invited us to have dinner with him the next night and his
chauffeur would pick us up at the ship. At the appointed hour, a fine car appeared and we were taken to a
home in Delicius that was within sight of the tower from which we had been spotted the night before. We
were met at the drive by Henrique, his wife, and young son, who was a college student. He and his family
spoke perfect English, but with an accent. His home was something to see. Tropical trees and flowers surrounded it, and the interior furnishings were splendid. I was amazed when he opened one door and showed
me his amateur radio station, which was equipped with the latest models of amateur radio gear. I spotted a
microphone on his desk, but no telegraph key. Amateur radio was about the only thing I had in common with
him. It turned out that his son was home for a break from the Georgia Military College in Milledgeville, Ga.
He took us to the back of his home where there was a very large garden where his gardener raised all
types of tropical fruits and vegetables. He pointed to the police observation tower, and said that it was comforting to know they were so close. We didn’t tell him that we had spent a good part of the previous night in
the jail at the foot of the tower. If we had known that he lived in Delicius, we could have invoked his name
when we were being marched to the jail. After a period of conversation in their parlor, with before dinner refreshments, we were taken to a large dining room, where two servants served us. It was the first decent food
that we had had in a good while, since our ship has just about run out of food.
During the after dinner conversation, we were told that there was a lot of political unrest in Cuba, and
that there were militant factions that posed a real and constant threat to the stability of the Cuban government.
He said that the sugar company that he manages is largely American owned. When it was time to leave, he
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said that the next day, he would have his chauffeur pick us up and take us for a tour of the mill and refinery
just outside of Delicius.
The next day we were taken to the Cuban American Sugar Company’s mill and refinery, which is
housed in some large buildings. Railroad cars bring the cut cane stalks to the mill that squeeze the juice from
the cane. The juiced stalks then go through a bath in a solvent to remove the natural wax from the outside of
the stalks. The solvent containing the wax goes to a distillery where the solvent is recovered for using again,
and the is saved. The was is sold to the Johnson’s Wax Company. The sweet cane juice is piped to a facility
that extracts the sugar. A large percentage of it is sold as bulk brown sugar, but a portion is further refined to
produce white sugar. Also, part of the facility is a distillery that makes rum from sugar cane juice, or from the
sugar. The facility uses a lot of energy, part of which is obtained by burning the cane stalks after they have
served their purposes.
The ship having been loaded with sugar, we sailed for New York, arriving there about October 12.
The sugar was delivered to the to the Jack Frost Sugar Company, which has its own dock.
An enjoyable visit home prior to going to the Pacific War Theater
I had decided before our arrival that I would leave the John Chandler for two reasons. Capt. Wilder
had told me that he was leaving the ship, and I wanted to make my next voyage in the Pacific War Theater. I
packed and shipped home my books and other things I had collected, including the Nazi flag, and the clothing
that I didn’t immediately need. I also sent home a box of cigars that I had bought for Melvin in Cuba. It was
somehow sad to leave the John Chandler, on which I had served for so long. My good friends Max Stirn and
Capt. Wilder, and others, will be missed. However, one does what one must do. I said goodbye to everyone,
collected my pay, locked the radio room and turned the key over to the purser. One period of my Merchant
Marine life had been completed, and I wondered what the future held in store for me. A good thing about the
decision to leave the Chandler was that it provided an opportunity to spend several weeks at home.
About 23 Oct., 1944, I arrived in Montgomery by train, and Mother and Melvin met me at the Union
Station. Since my previous home visit, they had moved to the home they had bought on Hampton Street, near
Oak Park. They needed to be closer to Melvin’s job, which for some time had been in Montgomery. I felt
very sad, almost depressed, that Letohatchie was no longer home. Montgomery didn’t really seem like home
to me. I missed seeing my brother Joe as he had gone to San Jose, California, in search of better employment.
However, Anne and Donny were staying with Mother because Don had been posted overseas. On 1 Nov. 44, I
was able to get a ration coupon for 30 gallons of gas. Anne had put their convertible Buick, “Dixie Lou”, in
storage, but she got it out so that I could use it. I was really riding in style. I drove down to Letohatchie for an
exciting day of quail hunting with my good friend Bragg Payne.
On Nov. 17, 1944, after a quiet, restful and enjoyable visit at home, I took the midnight train for New
Orleans, arriving there well before noon the next day. I couldn’t carry much luggage with me, so I had to
leave my record player/recorder and French language records at home. I checked in at the Maritime Office at
the Senator Hotel a few doors off Canal Street, where I could stay for a very reasonable price. I was paid
$8.00 per day while waiting for a ship. It was the same kind of place as I had stayed in at Glasgow, Scotland,
but the people staying here were much better behaved.
After lunch, I went to the Federal Communications Commission Office, and was able to take immediately the exam for the First Class Radio Telegraph license, which I passed without difficulty. That completed all of the requirements for a Lieutenant Junior Grade rating in the U.S. Maritime Service. Note: I never
submitted my application for the increase in grade to Lt. (j.g.) because it was meaningless, except for the additional gold half-stripe on the uniform. End note.
The stay in New Orleans was very interesting. I visited places of historic interest, and I had some
good seafood meals at restaurants in the French Quarter. I was given a ticket to a stage show, which I enjoyed. While there, I bought a few books to take with me, including some math textbooks and a Spanish lan-
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guage textbook. On Dec. 3, I was told that I had been assigned to the S.S. Anthony Ravalli as Chief Radio
Officer, and that I must report immediately.
First Voyage on the S.S. Anthony Raval li (New Orleans to Philippines, Austr ali a,
New Caledonia, and return to Tacoma, Wash.
1st day, Departure from New Orleans, Tuesday, Dec. 5, 1944, To join my ship, I had to take a bus
to a small town up the Mississippi River where she was berthed at a fueling pier. I met the Skipper, Capt.
Hiller, who seemed to be a nice fellow, and also reported to the Purser to sign on. It seems that I’m the last of
the ship’s officers to sign on, and I wondered why I wasn’t sent to the ship earlier. The ship is operated by the
American Mail Line. The stay at the pier gave me time to check out the radio room and the antenna installation. It is fortunate that everything was found to be OK; otherwise, the ship couldn’t sail. The ship’s radio call
is KYPJ. I have two assistant radio officers, Elmer Moon and Neil Swanger, both completely inexperienced.
This is my first voyage to have the full compliment of operators. Having three operators meant that we would
have 24 hour coverage of the Radio Room, making it unnecessary to use the Auto Alarm. The Revalli was
built at Portland, Oregon, and is identical to the S.S. John Chandler, which was built at Portland, Main. The
ship had already been loaded with war materials and with a deck cargo of military vehicles and road-building
machinery.
6th day, Arrival at Panama, Sunday, Dec. 10, 1944. - After anchoring at Panama, Captain Hiller
(the Skipper), Lt. Johnson (the Gunnery Officer), Lt. Fausty (the Army Security Officer), and I went ashore to
get our sailing orders. The weather had been cold in New Orleans, but it was very hot in Panama. When I
went through the security gate, the guard noticed my name and asked me where I was from. When I told him
that I was from Letohatchie, Alabama, he said that he was “Red” Whitley from Letohatchie. He was the father of four of my friends, and his family lived next door to me when I first moved to Letohatchie. However, I
didn’t know him as he had worked in the oil fields in Texas and was rarely at home. Small world!
7th day, Passage through the Panama Canal, Monday, Dec. 11, 1944 - We had a very interesting
and impressive trip through the Panama Canal. The locks, etc., are engineering marvels. The Culebra Cut had
been dug with much manual labor and blasting, and a minimum of machinery. The tropical scenery as we
went through the huge, crystal clear Gatun Lake was beautiful. We emerged on the Pacific Ocean side where
we anchored at Balboa Harbor, but didn’t go ashore. We sailed early the next morning. On Christmas Day,
we were quite close to Christmas Island, but not within sight. The weather was very hot. Last Christmas, I
spent a very cold day anchored in Chesapeake Bay, after having just returned from a voyage to Bône, Algeria,
and we were unable to go ashore. That had been a terrible Christmas because we had run out of food on that
long voyage and for many days had only Army field rations to eat. That’s what we had for Christmas.
I cross the Equator for the first time -- Became member of the “Ancient Order of the Deep”
37th day, Equator crossing, Wednesday, Jan. 10, 1945, - Those of us who were crossing the Equator for the first time were presented, with appropriate ceremony, a small card certifying that we were members of the “Ancient Order of the Deep”. The card was signed “Neptunus Rex, Ruler of the Raging Main, and
Davy Jones, His Majesty’s Scribe.”
39th day, Arrival at Manus Island, Friday, Jan. 12, 1945 - The day after my 25th birthday, we arrived at Manus Island, which is south of the Equator. Entrance to Seadler Harbor is through a pass between
two islands covered with palm trees. We saw some beautiful tropical scenery, but we couldn’t go ashore here.
Our sailing orders were delivered to our ship by a launch. I understand that the natives here are very primitive. On Jan 14, we left Manus Island and sailed for Humboldt Bay, Holandia, New Guinea.
43rd day, Arrival at Holandia, New Guinea, Tuesday, Jan 16, 1945 - When we arrived at the
mouth of Holandia harbor, a boat came out and gave us some instructions and a chart containing circles that
indicated the many anchorages, a large number of which were then occupied. Holandia is about the same longitude as Tokyo. A soft breeze was blowing off shore, and it carried a very pleasant smell of jungle vegeta-
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tion. After we anchored, several small dugout canoes with bamboo outriggers came out loaded with cocoanuts they wished to sell. The men in the canoes were awful looking characters who wore only a loincloth.
Their hair, which would normally have been black, had been bleached a kind of yellow color using lime, and
their teeth were jet black from chewing beetle-nut. We had been warned to make them stay clear of the ship.
While there, I went ashore a few times with Capt. Hiller on Ship’s business. The Dutch and Australian authorities told us that the natives were hunting down and killing the Japanese soldiers who had been left
stranded in the surrounding jungle when they had been defeated as a fighting force. The natives would cut off
their ears and bring strings of them in to the authorities in order to collect a two-guilder bounty for each pair.
We were told that shortly before our arrival, a Jap sub had surfaced at the harbor entrance, and had fired some
torpedoes into the harbor. They had all run between the anchored ships without hitting any, and had exploded
harmlessly on the beach. The submarine escaped.
58th day, Departure from Holandia, New Guinea, Wednesday, Jan. 31, 1945 - We sailed alone
from Holandia bound for Leyte, Philippine Islands, arriving at Tacloban, Leyte, on Feb. 6, 1944. There were
many ships in the harbor, with and without a cargo. There were a number of floating piers made of large
floating steel tanks. We anchored in the large bay while waiting for additional sailing orders. I took advantage
of the opportunity to go ashore several times. It was interesting, but not very pleasant. The streets of the little
town were deep in mud, and deep ruts from the huge trucks that were hauling cargo. Everything was very
primitive. I stopped in a native store that had little to sell and bought a small collection of Philippine stamps
and a few banknotes for my collection. There was a sign in English that read, “In God we trust, all others
cash.”
About Feb. 12, 1944, we received our sailing orders and sailed alone from Tacloban bound for San
Jose, Mindoro. We sailed around the southern tip of Leyte, then SW through the Mindanao Sea. We had been
warned to stay well away of the coast of Mindanao, as it was still held by the Japanese. We then headed NW
around Negros and Panay Islands, and on to Mindoro, which is the island just south of Luzon, the Island
where Manila is located.
We arrive at our destination, San Jose, Mindora, Philippine Islands
About Feb. 15, 1944, we entered the bay at San Jose, and waited a short while for a launch to come
out with instructions concerning the port rules and where to anchor. Several Liberty Ships had been sunk in
the harbor shortly before our arrival. There were several more Liberty Ships waiting to be unloaded. Due to
the lack of cargo handling equipment, it would take over two weeks to unload our ship into barges that were
brought alongside. We are about the same longitude as Formosa, and slightly further west than Shanghai.
I become ill with malaria
When we arrived, I had a very high fever. The purser was concerned about my condition, and flagged
an army amphibious vehicle that was passing near us. The driver said that he could take me to the beach, from
which point I could catch a ride to the field hospital. I was feeling so weak that I was concerned that I might
fall from the Jacobs ladder and asked the driver not to come under the ladder until I had reached boarding
level. If I had felt better on the ride, I would have asked him some questions about his interesting vehicle.
Obviously proud of his vehicle, he told me that from the drivers seat he could control the air pressure in the
tires so that he could go ashore under different conditions. We rode up onto the gently sloping beach, which
the driver said had been the major landing point on Mindora during the invasion. He also said that fighting
was still going on in the interior of the island. A soldier on the beach told me that there was a field hospital
several miles down the road to the south. There was no way that I could walk that far, so I waited beside the
road until a truck passed by and gave me a ride.
Upon arriving at the field hospital, I had to stand in a slow-moving queue of waiting men. I wondered
why they couldn’t have had a long bench to provide a place for the waiting men to sit. Some of the men were
walking wounded that had been brought back from the battle areas on the Island after having received first
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aide. The queue was actually a triage, and the arriving patients were inserted in the line by an enlisted medic
at a point consistent with the urgency of their problem. With my lack of obvious injury, people were placed in
line ahead of me about as fast as the doctors were tending to the men. That meant that I was moving along
very slowly. I began to wonder if I could improve my situation by simply collapsing on the spot. By the time
I arrived before the doctor, I could hardly stand and didn’t care much whether I lived or died. The scheme
being used was for the doctor at the head of the queue to determine the nature of the problem, and if considered serious, other doctors would see the patient. Before letting me finish describing my complaint, the doctor
put his hand on my brow and diagnosed my illness as malaria. He directed his aide to give me a several
week’s supply of Atabrine pills and aspirin, and told me to stay in bed until my fever went away. He warned
that the illness might return, in which case I was to repeat the treatment. I was given more pills when I told
the doctor that my ship would soon sail for home on a trip that would take a number of weeks. He then motioned to the next man in queue for him to step forward. The aide gave me some water for taking the aspirin
and my first dose of Atabrine, and I returned to the road to await a ride. That ride soon appeared, but I had a
longer wait before catching a ride on a launch back to my ship. I felt even less able to deal with the Jacobs
ladder than when I came down it early in the day, so I asked the man at the helm to quickly move away as
soon as I was on the ladder, but to remain nearby until I was aboard.
A reconnaissance patrol in a B-24
The doctor’s diagnosis must have been correct because my fever quickly subsided, and after several
days of bed rest I was feeling much better. In the meantime, Johnny Johnson, the Navy Gunnery Officer, had
been ashore and had met some pilots who flew B-24 reconnaissance patrols over the waters around the Philippines, and they had invited him to take a flight with them. Johnny suggested that I go along, as he didn’t think
they would mind. Since I was feeling almost normal, I decided to go with him.
The next morning we caught a ride to the airfield and found the pilots and crew preparing to depart.
The B-24 bomber carried no bombs, but the gun crew was aboard to provide protection. We had a pilot, a copilot, an engineer, a navigator, a man who interpreted and recorded what was observed, and a radioman.
We took off and flew north almost to Manila. There was a smoke cloud hanging over an area ahead
and the navigator said that it was caused by napalm being used in the military activities taking place here. We
then turned and headed in a southwesterly direction down the South China Sea until we were within sight of
the Malaysia coast. I really enjoyed the flight. The radio operator gave me a good explanation of his equipment. He mostly monitored a particular frequency, but didn’t make any transmissions during our flight. He
said that telegraphy was mostly used, except that voice links were used by the cockpit on landings and takeoffs, or when talking to other aircraft in the vicinity. I also had a chance to sit in the co-pilots seat for more
than an hour. I was surprised to observe that when we hit some rather rough turbulence, the tips of the wings
moved visibly, even though the plane is not heavily loaded. The fuel gauges of the aircraft were glass tubes
with scales alongside, which were mounted against the bulkhead just before the entrance the cockpit. Close
by were valves that could be used to change tanks or transfer fuel from one to the other. After the takeoff, and
the aircraft had reached altitude, the pilot had switched on the autopilot and thereafter, only the autopilot
knobs and some throttle adjustments were used to control the flight until we were preparing for the landing.
At one point the pilot let me use the knob to make a change to another heading. He laughed and commented
that I had passed the B-24 pilot test.
We had drinking water, a large thermos of coffee, and plenty of rations to go around in spite of our
being aboard. When we reached the southernmost end of our flight, we turned east over the Zulu Sea, and
later turned north to return to Mindoro. The trip had lasted more than seven hours. We had seen a number of
ships, native boats, and also a few aircraft, but as far as I could tell, we had seen no enemy aircraft or military
ships. It was a most interesting day. The officers and men made us feel that they were glad to have had us
aboard, and we thanked them for their kindness. We invited them to visit our ship, but they didn’t appear to
be excited by that prospect.
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A chance meeting with Booley Rogers from Letohatchie
On March 16, 1945, after our ship had been unloaded, we received orders to raft alongside another
Liberty Ship that was at a pier waiting for sailing orders. This was done without a tugboat, and can be a tricky
maneuver in a stiff breeze. I was standing at the rail watching our ship slowly move closer and closer to the
other ship, and could hardly believe my eyes when I suddenly recognized that the person standing opposite
me at the rail of the other ship was Booley Rogers, a young friend from my hometown of Letohatchie, Alabama. He immediately recognized me, and without either one of us having to move an inch along the rail, we
greeted each other and reached out to shake hands at the moment the ships gently bumped together. What an
amazing coincidence! It was good to see someone from home. Booley’s father, Archie Rogers, and my stepfather, Melvin Sanderson, were two of the three telegrapher/agents at the Letohatchie L&N Railroad depot.
Small world! Booley, who is perhaps eight years younger than I, was a steward on his ship. He came aboard
my ship and we went to my stateroom and talked for a couple of hours. When time for the evening meal approached, he returned to his ship and made arrangements to be away for the evening meal. He enjoyed being
waited on when he had the evening meal with me in the Officers Saloon Mess. The next day, I wrote a letter
home telling of the event and asking my mother to pass the word along to Booley’s mother, Mrs. Irma, that he
was well and looking fine. Note: In 2003. I saw Booley Rogers, and some others from my youth when I visited Letohatchie on Labor Day. He remembered the details of our chance meeting at San Jose, Mindoro, 57
years ago. Booley had not yet finished high school when he joined the Merchant Marine. His high school
graduating class was 1947. End note.
Instead of heading for home we had expected, our newly received orders directed us to sail to Port
Kembla, Australia, to take on a load of coal that was to be taken to New Caledonia. I really wondered what
military organization had determined that a load of coal from Port Kembla was needed in New Caledonia, and
that our ship was the one to do the job. Where would that organization be located, and how were the orders
transmitted to the local military authorities that gave us the orders? There is a lot of activity that goes on behind the scenes during a war.
A typhoon in the Coral Sea!
About March 18, 1945, we departed San Jose, Mindora. But for one horrible incident, the trip to Port
Kembla would have been very nice. When we were entering the Coral Sea after having rounded the tip of
New Guinea, we received a weather report of a powerful typhoon approaching our general area. The Weather
reports were very few and not reliable, and when this one was received we had already observed a rapidly
falling barometer. Our ship was dangerously high in the water, and when I gave the report to the skipper, I
could tell that he was very concerned. The location and path of the typhoon were not precisely predicted, and
there was no way to know the course we should steer in order to diminish the danger. Depending on what
would happen, the coral reefs could present a grave danger, so we steered a course well away of the reefs.
That evening, the storm hit with a fury that rather quickly exceeded anything that I had witnessed in
the North Atlantic. We had to keep headed into the wind and monster waves to prevent capsizing. The engine
had to be kept running at a good speed to maintain control. When the ship would pitch bow down as the huge
waves passed, the screw would come out of the water and would turn rapidly with a vibration that was felt
throughout the ship. A man in the engine room, who was strapped in place, had to operate the huge throttle
lever at the correct moment to minimize the possibility of serious damage to the ship. On the other hand, he
had to keep the screw turning in the water as much as possible. The spray picked up by the wind made it almost impossible to see well enough to steer the ship, which was done by observing the approaching waves as
well as the compass. Shortly after the storm had hit, the extreme forces caused by the huge waves resulted in
failure of the primary weld that attached the ship’s superstructure to the ship at the weather deck. Under the
changing stresses, the entire ship’s superstructure would shift slightly, causing a loud grating noise that we
could hear above the storm. The weld failure caused a crack to appear that would admit a sheet of water into
the Saloon Mess each time a huge wave crashed over the deck. The ship’s motion was so severe that it was
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almost impossible to move about. We realized that we were on the verge of not being able to maintain control
over the ship’s heading, and there was a definite possibility that the ship could flounder with fatal results.
There was no possibility that the lifeboats or rafts could be used. Also, it would probably happen so suddenly,
that there would probably be no possibility of sending distress. I got our approximate latitude and longitude
from the chartroom and composed a distress message, just in case. I heard no signals on 500 kc and wondered
if the antenna was still functional. One option was to break radio silence and transmit a storm advisory including a statement concerning our potential problem. However, the Skipper declined to do that as it would
be of no benefit to us.
The storm lasted for a number of hours, and when it was over, we had no way of knowing our position. Since it was daylight, we couldn’t get an astronomical fix even if the sky were clear enough. Fortunately, we picked up two Australian broadcast stations that were loud enough to allow me to get radio direction
finding bearings that resulted in an approximate fix. Sounder readings agreed with the indicated depth at the
fix, which increased our confidence. The fix indicated that we had traveled backward during the storm and
were getting dangerously close to some coral reefs. Subsequent fixes improved the accuracy, so we set a
course for our destination.
Arrival at Port Kembla, New South Wales
Upon arriving at Port Kembla, in the southern part of Australia, we discovered that we were unable to
take on coal because the dockworkers were on strike. It made me angry to know that while the war was going
on, there were people who would fail to do their work because of some work related grievance. However, we
were able to get a crew of welders to repair and reinforce the failed welds. The nearby town of Wollongong
provided some interesting entertainment while we were waiting for an answer to the coal problem. After
about a week’s stay, without being able to load the coal, we were directed to sail to Newcastle, a coal port
where the dockworkers were not on strike.
We arrive at Newcastle, New South Wales
About April 10, 1945, we arrived at Newcastle. Since the ship would be there for at least five days
loading coal, I took the opportunity to travel by train to Sydney. There would be no radio watches while the
antennas were down. While in Sidney, I visited the famous Sydney Zoo, and the equally famous Aquarium.
Fantastic! While I was in Sydney, the hotel manager woke me around midnight to tell me that President Roosevelt had died. He died on April 12, 1945. Roosevelt had been a good wartime president. Also, his programs
were largely responsible for our recovery from the depression. In my case, I had spent two years in his Civilian Conservation Corps, where I learned radiotelegraphy. Also, he did much to help England before the United States got in the war. Not only was I sad to learn of his death, but also I couldn’t help but worry about the
future, as I knew absolutely nothing about the leadership capabilities of Harry Truman.
About April 17, 1945, having loaded the coal, we departed Newcastle for New Caledonia, where the
coal would be used for smelting nickel, which was an important war material. Our trip was made more pleasant by the presence aboard of a pretty New Zealand WAAF officer who had been assigned to Numea, New
Caledonia. Since we had an extra seat at the Radio Officer’s table, I had the pleasure of her company at every
meal.
Arrival at New Caledonia
About April 21, 1945, we arrived in New Caledonia and anchored in Prony Bay on the West coast,
where the coal would be unloaded into barges. New Caledonia is a major source of nickel, but does not have
any coal resources. After the coal had been unloaded, nickel nuggets would be loaded from barges.
There was a rather large island with wooded hills not far from our anchorage, and the man in charge
of the native workmen who were unloading the ship said that the island was uninhabited and that there were
deer on the island. In fact, they call it Deer Island. Johnny, the gunnery officer had among his weapons some
30-06 rifles, and he, the skipper, one of Johnny’s gunnery men, and I went to the island in the powered life-
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boat and spent several hours walking through the woods hoping to see some deer. There were numerous indications that deer were around, but they stayed out of our sight. There were some very large spiders, and we
would sometimes walk into their webs and end up with huge spiders crawling on us. Although I like hunting,
I was rather glad when we got in the boat and headed back to the ship.
A few days after our arrival, Johnny Johnson and I, in search of some diversion, caught a ride ashore
and walked the narrow jungle road from the small dock to the main road. An Army Lieutenant in a jeep gave
us a ride to Numea. Numea, the capital of New Caledonia, is a French colonial city with some interesting old
buildings. Their banknotes are very colorful. I had with me the same English/French pocket dictionary that I
had bought in London in 1942 when I was studying French, and that had stood me in good stead in Bône,
Al geria, in 1943. It was again put to good use. We explored the downtown and stopped in at an American
Officer’s club, had a coke, and rested a while. We then went to a good hotel dining room where we had an
excellent meal for a very reasonable price.
We made a mistake by not spending the night in Numea. It took a while to catch a ride, and it was rather dark when we arrived at the jungle road, and much darker as we walked through the jungle to the beach
and pier. About a half mile away, we could dimly see our ship silhouetted against the western sky, and we
realized that we were stranded on the beach. As it grew darker, clouds of hungry mosquitoes swarmed around
us. Strange animal and bird noises came from the dense jungle. Since neither of us smoked, we had no matches with which to light a fire.
The mosquitoes were eating us alive, and we realized that we could not possibly tolerate that until
morning. Something drastic had to be done. Well away from the water, the beach sand was dry, so we first sat
down on the beach and pulled sand over our ankles, and then laid back and piled sand on our bodies until
nothing was uncovered except one arm and hand. We then put out hats over our faces, pulled sand over the
remaining exposed skin around our necks, and then worked our exposed hand under the sand. Breathing
through our hats, we felt that we were suffocating. We were itching from the previous bites, but couldn’t
scratch, and some mosquitoes still found places to bite us, especially around the neck.
After about an hour of carrying on a muffled conversation through our hats, we heard shells crunching, indicating that at least one person was coming down the beach. I quietly told Johnny that we shouldn’t let
them stumble over us in the dark. They could be armed and might immediately shoot us or cut us with a machete. We quietly stood up and peered in the direction of the sounds. We could barely make out that a man
was walking directly toward us. Not wanting to surprise him too much, I called out “allô”, and a flashlight
beam was immediately put on us. We were sitting ducks. We couldn’t see him, but he could see us. With sand
all over our uniforms, we must have looked like we had risen from the grave. To our extreme relief the man
walked over, greeted us in French, and extended his hand like nothing unusual had happened. Through broken French, and pointing out to our ship, we were able to communicate our problem to him.
He seemed to be suffering far less from the mosquitoes than we were, but he understood our problem.
He quickly started a fire, and we got our first look at him. He was a native man in the same clothing that was
worn by the workmen who worked with the barges. He acted like it was something he had always done, and
brought some wood from the jungle quickly kindled a fire. It had become cool, and the fire felt good, but best
of all the smoke chased away most of the mosquitoes. But our benefactor had not finished. There were a
number of empty food cans nearby, left there by the native workers who worked on the barges, and the man
found two rather large ones and washed them and filled them with water at a small stream in the nearby jungle. When he put them on the fire to heat, we wondered what he had in mind. However, when the water was
steaming, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small bag of tea leaves and put several large pinches in
each can. Soon we had hot tea to drink. Although we couldn’t communicate with him well enough to have a
real conversation, he sat with us a short while, then stood up and politely excused himself. He accepted with
obvious pleasure a small banknote that we gave him, and then quickly disappeared into the night. We were
amazed by what had happened.
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The mosquitoes were still bad, but by keeping some damp wood on the fire, and staying in the smoke
we were able to keep most of them at bay. It was not possible to get any rest. We brushed as much sand off
the outside our uniforms as possible, but didn’t want to expose our bodies to the mosquitoes. Just after dawn,
a small boat appeared with some workmen, and we were given a ride out to our ship. My hands had been bitten so much that they were so swollen that I could hardly close them. Once aboard, I took off my uniform and
shook out a lot of sand. A bath made me feel better, but when I looked in the mirror, I observed that my face
was puffed and my eyes were almost swollen shut. It took me a couple of days to feel normal again.
Things improved tremendously for the ship’s officers when we discovered that not very far down the
beach was a clearing in the jungle where the 31st Station Hospital was camped while they awaited orders to
go to a front, which they believed would be Okinawa. There were about a dozen doctors, a Chaplain, a mixed
male/female medical staff, some administrative people and other support personnel that were needed. Another
group had previously stayed there, and using native labor, they had constructed some small buildings out of
native materials. One of the buildings was an Officers Club and Canteen, to which all of their group were
admitted, regardless of rank. However, I noticed that those who were not officers sat at a table across the
room. We were able to be of some assistance to them, and they, in return invited our officers to visit and use
their facilities whenever we wished. We could quickly run over to their place in the powered lifeboat, so we
were frequent visitors and came to know them very well. Their hospitality was fantastic. They had many cats,
all of which had names and known personalities, and were treated as people. When they learned about our
rodent problem, they gave us a cat named Sheila that really thrived aboard our ship. They also gave us a record player that had stopped working, and a good assortment of records. In addition, they had a small sailboat
that they couldn’t take with them, and they passed it on to us. I was able to repair the record player and the
records were often played and the music was distributed to the speakers in the Officers Saloon Mess and the
Crew’s Mess. The cat worked wonders with the rodent population, and we enjoyed sailing in the bay. When
we left, we stowed the sailboat on deck and secured it for possible use on the next voyage.
We sail for the U.S.A.
About May 15, 1945, we set sail for home with a load of nickel nuggets. On our return voyage, we
passed within sight of a Hawaiian mountain, but didn’t stop.
From the time that we left the U.S. until we returned to the U.S., we had sailed alone. It had seemed
very lonely at times compared to the large convoys in which I had nearly always previously sailed. If our ship
had been torpedoed, and had gone down without survivors, it would never be known what had happened. This
voyage lasted over six months, making it the longest voyage that I had made.
Because of the long distance from the state of Washington to Alabama, going home this time was not
a reasonable option. The crew signed off on June 17, 1945, but the officers who were sailing again could have
stayed aboard while the cargo was being loaded. However, since the ship was at an inconvenient location well
out of town, we soon moved to some reasonably priced rooms at the Winthrop Hotel in Tacoma.
Second and last Voyage of the S.S. Anthony Ravalli (from Tacoma to Okinawa
and return to Los Angeles, Calif.)
On July 14, 1945, the crew signed on for the next voyage. The new skipper, Capt. J. B. Fleury, is an
older man with years of experience as a ship’s master. I had two young assistants, David Rule and Robert
(Bob) Folger. Both were 19 years old and inexperienced. My friend Carl “Johnny” Johnson, the Naval Gunnery Officer, and Charlie Johnson, the Second Mate, were also with us on the last voyage. We were loaded
with war materials of all kinds, including explosives, and had military vehicles and road-building machines as
deck cargo. Before we had unloaded the nickel nuggets, our sailboat had been off loaded and placed out of
the way on the dock, and after the cargo had been loaded, Capt. Fleury had it put back aboard. Sheila, our cat,
also signed on for this trip.
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On July 16, 1945, we sailed from Tacoma headed for Ulithi Atoll, Caroline Islands, 9.58N 139.40E,
which is on the eastern side of the Philippine Sea. At Ulithi, we would receive sailing orders for our final destination.
We hear the news that the first atomic bomb had been dropped on H iroshima
On Aug. 6, 1945, we heard the startling and unbelievable news on the radio that a new weapon, an
“atomic bomb” had been dropped on Hiroshima, totally destroying the city, and probably killing 100,000 persons. I couldn’t conceive of so many people being killed in an instant. I figured that if all of the dead Japs
were laid out end to end on the ocean, it would take us over 8 hours to steam by all of them. We had never
imagined that such a bomb existed, but it was clear that it would have a profound affect on the war.
On Aug. 9, 1945, we were stunned to learn of the dropping of a second atomic bomb, this time at
Nagasaki, with equally devastating results. We all agreed that with such a weapon, the war would surely be
brought to a rapid end. Very high casualties had been predicted on both sides during an invasion of Japan. It
is anticipated that the United States will demand an unconditional surrender, which may mean that the invasion of Japan may never happen.
As soon as we learned by short-wave broadcasts about the atomic bombs, we all knew that the war
was effectively over, and we spent much of the voyage wondering what we were going to do after the war.
Life aboard the ship had been very good for studying, and I had continued my studies that I had begun on the
Isle of Man. It seemed to me that the best thing for me would be to enter the Alabama Polytechnic Institute at
Auburn, Alabama, when I returned home. To make that possible, I had saved most of what I had earned since
I had joined the CTC. Going to school would make it unnecessary for me to have to look for a job right away
with no qualifications for the kind of jobs that might be available. I was amazed to discover that some of the
officers seemed to have no clear idea about what they wanted to do and what kind of work they would be able
to find. Being seamen had become a way of life with them, but that would end soon. Those who were married
were the most concerned about their ability to find employment. I felt that I had fewer problems than most,
and looked forward to the possibility of going back to a peacetime life.
On August 14, the radio informed us that Japan has formally surrendered. The end of the war had finally come! It had been nearly four years since I began my wartime service by joining the Civilian Technical
Corps and going to England. This voyage would serve no purpose, and I wished that we could simply turn
around and go back home so that I could begin my new life as soon as possible.
Arrival at Ulithi Atoll
On Sept. 1, 1945, we arrived at Ulithi Atoll. We anchored in a large anchorage surrounded by islands
covered with palm trees. We were told to wait here for additional sailing orders. We did a lot of swimming,
and several times took a lifeboat over to a close-by uninhabited island to walk the beach, collect shells, and
gather coconuts. On one of those visits, we spotted a huge monitor lizard about five feet long. One of the men
said that they were good to eat, so the lizard was killed and we took it back to the ship. I cleaned it because I
wanted the skin, but the cook refused to cook the meat.
Our friends in the medical group at Okinawa had let us have their sailboat because they were leaving,
and it had been put aboard again after we had loaded our cargo in Tacoma. We lowered it and enjoyed a few
sails. However, we lost the boat when a bad squall came up and the line that ran to the boat was parted. It
quickly disappeared from sight in the high wind, rain, and waves and there was no hope of recovering it.
There is an Armed Forces radio station at Ulithi, and on a broadcast of the Hit Parade they played the
following songs in descending order of popularity:
If I Loved You; Till the End of Time; Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe; I Wish I Knew; Sentimental Journey; The More I See You; Dreans; Bell Bottom Trousers; California Here I Come.
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On Sept. 3, 1945, I wrote a letter to Mother, wherein I made mention of the fact that our War Zone
bonus has been removed. Although a supposition on my part, I felt it must be true as there were no longer any
war zones. I supposed that it became effective on August 14, the date of the formal surrender of Japan. Although we no longer have to worry about submarines or air attacks, we are carrying a lot of dangerous explosives. Since preparations were being made for an invasion of Japan, I expect that many of the ships now at sea
are carrying explosives. Also, some ships are sailing in waters where not all of the mines have been swept.
On Sept. 13, 1945, I wrote a rather long note that expressed some of my thoughts at the time. Here
are some of them. I wanted to finish my algebra studies on the present voyage, and to review my French textbook, which I had completed months ago. Also mentioned, was my desire to begin immediately to study seriously the Spanish textbook that I had bought in New Orleans, but so far had studied but little. Although going
to college was what I wanted most, I also toyed with the idea of getting a job in Montgomery. Perhaps I might
get married if the right girl came along. In addition, I expressed my desire to become involved again in my
hobbies, such as amateur radio, photography, electronics, flying, boating, stamp collecting, among other
things. I also indicated that, for time and money reasons, doing all of those things, plus going to college,
would probably make my getting married very unlikely in the foreseeable future.
Among the things I mentioned was how sad I felt about the loss of my friend, Guy Coleman, whose
ship had been torpedoed in the North Atlantic. Of all of those I knew who had gone off to war, Guy would be
the only one not to return. I also regretted the relocation of my family from Letohatchie to Montgomery. Letohatchie would no longer be my hometown. Also, it was sad to realize that the family would never be together again. Anne had married, and had a young son, Donny, and her husband, Don Slesnick, was from Buffalo, N.Y. Also Joe had gone to California in search of opportunity. Because of the lack of work opportunities, it was unlikely that I would settle in the area. What a difference four years can make! Most of my boyhood friends would undoubtedly scatter upon their return from the war. Sadly, had lost contact with many of
my friends, including Teeny Jenkins, who had written to me during my time on the Isle of Man and also for a
year after I joined the Merchant Marine. Of the people that I knew in the U.K., I had received recent information about Vera Bradford, Jack Boor and Jessie, Mrs. Cooil, and Vernie Vanwell. Jack Boor was still
working for the Armed Forces Network, and was headquartered in London. However, he spent much time in
Europe. Jack wrote that recently he had seen in London Terry Bedford, a very nice WAAF from Scarlett.
Vera Bradford was in a RAF Camp near Birmingham, England. I had not heard from George Fulton for a
long time. It seemed that I would be starting almost from scratch in making friends.
Arrival at Buckner Bay, Okinawa
On Sept. 14, 1945, we arrived at Okinawa Shima, Ryuku Retto, and anchored in Nakagusuku Wan.
The Americans called it Buckner Bay in honor of General Buckner, who died on Okinawa. It was a large harbor filled with Naval and Merchant Marine ships. We were told that it would be a good while before we
would get additional orders. Having heard from home that my uncle, Col. Hundley Thompson, was the Provost Marshall for Okinawa, I wrote a letter to him addressed to Col. Hundley Thompson, Provost Marshall,
Okinawa, hoping that he would receive it.
A very bad typhoon at Okinawa
I copied a weather report from NPO, the naval shore station in Manila that reported that a typhoon
was headed our way but was not expected to hit Okinawa directly. Capt. Fleury had previously experienced
Typhoons in this area, and he signaled to the Naval Station ashore that he wished to leave the harbor immediately. However, permission was denied, so he took as many precautions as possible, such as putting down
proper anchors and keeping a head of steam. When the Typhoon arrived on the night of 16 Sept., it was far
stronger than had been expected. The Navy’s orders to the ships to remain at anchor and ride out the story in
Buckner Bay, was a bad mistake. A number of ships were damaged, and some were sunk, and some men lost
their lives. We had a few close calls due to boats that were dragging their anchors.
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September 19, 1945 -- On this date four years ago (1941), I boarded a train in Atlanta, Georgia,
headed for Montreal, Quebec, where I would join the CTC. I’ve had many experiences during those four
years, and I’m more than ready to return to a normal life.
A visit to see my uncle, Col. Hundley Thompson, Provost Marshall of Okinawa
On Thursday, Oct. 4, 1945, I was surprised when a Sgt. England came aboard searching for me. He
had been sent by Uncle Hundley to deliver a letter to me asking that I go ashore and visit him, if possible. He
sent directions for reaching his camp in case I could not return with Sgt. England. Dave and Bob agreed to
pull my watches, so Capt. Fleury said that I could go ashore and stay a few days if I wished. I invited my
good friend Charlie Johnson, the gunnery officer, to go with me. Sgt. England, who had caught a ride out to
our boat, was invited to eat at my table, and after lunch, our lifeboat delivered us to the nearest pontoon dock.
As we hitchhiked our way to Uncle Hundley’s camp, we were amazed to find how many good roads the CBs
and Army Engineers had built in the short time Okinawa had been occupied. The new roads surfaced with
crushed coral, which gives them a good, but dusty surface. Okinawa was formed many millions of years ago
by an upheaval that raised the bottom of the sea. The coral for the roads was obtained from near the tops of
the mountains. As we hitchhiked, we observed that the land was terraced, so that no land was wasted. We
were told that the primary crops were sweet potatoes, sugarcane, and rice. The road we were on ran along the
shore and we soon arrived at “Brown Beach”, where we left the main road and caught a ride up the mountain
to the top, where Uncle Hundley’s camp is located. We arrived at his camp about 3 pm. From the top, there
was a fantastic view of the countryside and also of the ships anchored in Buckner Bay. We could spot the Revalli.
Sgt. England directed us to Uncle Hundley’s tent, and he seemed very happy to see me. We had not
seen each other since about a year before the war began. His rather large tent had a rough desk, a table, several chairs, and a cot. His camp was large, and the organization he commanded (the 519th MP Bn.) had a number of officers, and many men, most of whom were involved in Military Police duties. He and some of his
men had come ashore with the invasion. Although the buildings at his camp had suffered damage from the
typhoon, they were pretty much back in operation after having repaired some damaged buildings and having
erected some new tents. His men had found shelter during the typhoon by going into the tombs that were dug
into the side of the mountain just below his camp.
Uncle Hundley told us some interesting things about the campaign, which had many very bloody battles. He had recently received some letters from home and filled me in on family information. It was really
good to talk with him. Uncle Hundley was devoted to family members, and I remembered that when I was in
the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1937, and was attending a radiotelegraphy school at Fort Barrancas, Florida, Uncle Hundley learned that I was there and had looked me up. He was commanding a coastal artillery
battery on nearby Santa Rosa Island. On that occasion, he took me to a movie in Pensacola, which was the
nearest town. The C.C.C. uniform that I wore was the same as a private in the U.S. Army, and I guess Uncle
Hundley, who was a major at the time, considered it would not have been appropriate for him to be seen with
me in the Post Theater, a stone’s throw from the barracks where I lived.
After we had talked for a while, we got in his Jeep, and, and he drove us to some nearby places of interest. We first went to the site of the late city of Shuri, which had been completely leveled by bombing from
the air, and by artillery from the land and sea. It was impossible to see where the streets had been. From there
we went to the late city of Naha, which is in the same condition. It had been a city of 65,000 people. Uncle
Hundley told me that a Jap prisoner had identified himself as a banker with the major Naha bank, and had
disclosed that there was much currency and gold in the bank vault that should be protected. When he was taken there by MPs, he couldn’t identify the site where the bank had stood. It took a surveyor to find it. We
passed other town sites, all of which were highly destroyed. The number of casualties must have been tremendous. At one place, he showed us a site where there had been a fierce battle. The Japs held the high
ground, and the Marines had to advance up a slope that resembled a bluff. At one point, the lead marines,
while under fire, had drug a large net up the slope and secured it to some trees at the top so that the ones who
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followed could climb up more quickly. The nets were still there. The Marine losses in taking that hill had
been very heavy.
Back at Uncle Hunley’s tent, we talked until shortly before 11 pm, when the camp lights would go
out. Uncle Hundley had told us that there were still some Japs that had not yet been rounded up, and that they
were hidden deeply in caves. They came out of the caves at night causing significant problems. He said that
one answer to that problem was to set up a flamethrower at the mouth of a cave. After burning the
flamethrower for a few moments, any Japs who were still alive usually came out and surrendered. To protect
his camp, there were soldiers with machine guns posted around the camp. Tin cans, with a rock in each one,
were tied to the branches of the surrounding bushes. He said that his machine gunners had orders to fire in the
direction of any rattle that they heard, and that between now and the time of the surrender ceremonies, 28
Japs had been killed trying to sneak up on his camp. In fact, three weeks before, three Japs had been killed
coming up from just below his tent. His orderly had fixed a tent with two cots for us, so we went to bed. Uncle Hundley told us not to be too concerned if we heard machine guns during the night, as it sometimes happened. The rather cold night on the mountain top was quite different to the rather hot nights we had experienced at sea level.
At 7 am, Friday, Oct., 5, 1945, we were awaken by Uncle Hundley’s orderly, who told us that we
could wash up at Uncle Hundley’s tent. We went down and found that his amenities were quite Spartan. He
had cold water in a can that was poured into a steel helmet. A piece of broken automobile rear-view mirror
was used for shaving. After washing up, we went to the Officer’s Mess and had breakfast of dehydrated eggs,
dehydrated potatoes, bread and bacon. At breakfast, Uncle Hundley stood up and introduced us, and we were
given a warm welcome. After breakfast, we got in Uncle Hundley’s Jeep and he took us to the 10th Army
Headquarters where he works. He told us to take his jeep and his driver, Pvt. Upton, and do some sightseeing.
When we were in New Caledonia on our last trip, we were anchored for several weeks near the 31st
Station Hospital, that was camped there waiting to be called to the front, which they had thought would be
Okinawa. We came to know them very well. Pvt. Upton told us that they were indeed in Okinawa, and he
drove us to their camp not far from Buckner Bay. The first person we saw was Connie, whose last name I
couldn’t remember. He had been promoted to Lt. Col., and had become the C.O. of the 31st t.Station Hospital.
At that moment Sam Rosen, their Mess Officer, came up.
We had just caught them in time. They told us that the group had really been tested when they came
in with the invasion and provided medical services during all of the bloody fighting that had occurred. They
were packing up all of their stuff, which would be loaded on a LST for shipment to Korea along with some of
the group. The remainder of the group were to be sent home. All of the nurses and other females who had
been with the group for a long time had left Okinawa a few days before to return home. Connie said that Major Raleigh and a few others were down at the receiving station waiting for transportation back to the States
where they would be discharged. We wished Connie’s group good luck in Korea, and headed down to find
Major Raleigh, who had been a great friend of ours. We located him relaxing on a cot in a tent, together with
several other fellows from his group whose faces were familiar, but whose names I couldn’t recall. They said
that they were all anxiously awaiting passage home. We talked about our time together at New Caledonia,
and Major Raleigh asked about Sheila, the cat that they had given us. We told them that Sheila was still
aboard, was well and happy, and that the rodents were no longer a problem. I told them that we still had the
record player and had made much good use of it. However, we had lost the sailboat when we were at anchor
at Ulithi, and a squall had caused the line that tied the boat to the ship to break. It had been nice seeing the
group, and we wished them luck on getting back home quickly and safely. To prevent our being late for
lunch, we headed back to Uncle Hundley’s camp.
After lunch, Uncle Hundley called Captain Stetzer, who is in charge of the village where many of the
natives have been confined, and told him to show us around when we arrived there. With Pvt. Upton at the
wheel, we set out again, and drove to the southern end of the island where the village was located. When we
entered the village, I was surprised to see unarmed native police wearing red helmets with “CP” painted on
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them directing the military traffic and patrolling the streets. Every time we passed one, he would bow, salute,
and grin, showing a mouthful of buckteeth. We found Capt. Stetzer in a tent near the center of the village.
Capt. Stetzer greeted us as though he was delighted to see us. He first gave us an excellent briefing
explaining how the Island was being administered, and told us something about the natives, their personalities, lifestyles, etc. We then boarded his Jeep and he took us around the village to show us how the natives
were living. The village was a beehive of activity. Nobody seemed to be inactive. They were building houses
of grass and local building materials, and cultivating the fields around the village. It appeared that most of the
people are women and older men. I expect that most of the young men are now either dead or being held as
prisoners of war at this time. We passed a small group of girls, and one of them who was dressed in odd
checkerboard clothing gave Capt. Stetzer a very hostile stare. He said that she was a princess, and that she
didn’t like him because he had locked her in the brig for a while when he caught her trading with a C.B., an
act that was forbidden. We didn’t ask what she was trading. He said that she did no work, and the other women took care of her needs and also minded her baby.
These people are certainly starting from scratch. Everything on the island is destroyed, but if there is
still enough male population left, there is nothing to keep them from being in much better condition than before the war after everything has been rebuilt. The Americans are already building better roads than previously existed. Capt. Stetzer said that there is talk that an American Naval Base will be built here, which would
probably provide employment for a large number of natives. Capt. Stetzer had really gone out of his way to
give us a good tour, and we thanked him for his kindness.
Typhoons are rather common here, and out in the country we saw why some structures survive them.
We observed that some native houses are surrounded by a high “hedge” of very thick trees that obviously
served as windbreakers. The tree trunks were so close together and the limbs so entwined that they support
each other, and can’t be torn apart, thereby preventing them from being destroyed by the wind. Another interesting observation was that practically everywhere one looked there were tombs. They were caves cut into the
hillsides and into the mountain. The entrances are often well constructed and of similar design. Pvt. Upton
said that he understands that the entrance to the tombs are built to resemble a woman’s vagina, and that putting the remains in the tombs denotes a return to the womb.
We took a side road and walked over to look into a tomb that was open. In the back are ledges on
which rest urns containing the bones of the people buried here. The bones are stacked in the urns with the
skull at the top. These urns are well decorated and glazed, and some of them must be very old. We looked in
another tomb, and there was an undisturbed skeleton lying on the floor, still in clothing. Beside it was a mat,
on which someone had apparently been sleeping. They had been eating there as well, as there were some
empty food cans of the type that are in military field rations. I understand that during the campaign, the natives would seek shelter by living in the tombs. We noticed that it was nearly time for supper, so we returned
to camp
On Saturday, Oct. 6, 1945, after breakfast, Uncle Hundley told us to go to the canteen and buy anything that we needed, so Charlie and I went there and bought at a very low price a few things we could use.
We had to get back to the ship, so we thanked Uncle Hundley for the kind attention he had given us, including the use of his Jeep and driver. I told him that I would really enjoy having him visit me on the ship, but he
thanked me and said that his work schedule wouldn’t permit it. He instructed his driver to take us anywhere
that we wanted to go. We had him take us to the post office where we picked up a sack full of mail for the
ship, and then to Brown Beach, where we hoped we could catch a ride to our ship before lunchtime. We said
goodbye to Pvt. Upton, thanked him for his expert driving and help, and walked out on the pontoon dock to
wait for an opportunity to catch a ride. About 45 minutes later, the lifeboat from the “Music”, a Liberty Ship
anchored near the “Ravalli” gave us a lift to our ship. We got there in time for lunch and were warmly welcomed aboard because we had the mail.
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A visit from my cousin Miller Krebs
Monday, Oct. 8, 1945 About mid morning, I was stretched out on my bunk in my stateroom taking
it easy, and there was a tap on my door. Upon opening it, I was surprised to see my first cousin Miller Krebs
standing there in his Army Air Force Lieutenant’s uniform with pilot’s wings. I had not seen him since we
were boys and used to play together when we would visit our grandparent’s plantation in Roba, Alabama. He
said that he was had just come to Okinawa, and had just missed me when he had visited with Uncle Hundley.
Uncle Hundley gave him the name of my ship and he had bummed a ride out to see me. We had a great visit.
He had lunch with me, and stayed until mid afternoon. Our powered lifeboat was in the water, so I had a sailor take us ashore, where I said goodbye and then returned. It’s a small world.
The second far more devastating typhoon at Okinawa
The second typhoon at Okinawa was the worse experience that I had during WW-II. When this storm
named “Louise” began to be tracked, it was expected to follow a conventional path and pass between Formosa and Okinawa, and was not considered a significant threat. However, on 8 October, it rapidly changed
course in the direction of Okinawa. With only 12 hours before the storm was predicted to strike, the Naval
authorities ashore decided that it was too late for the ships at anchorage to put out to sea and get clear of the
storm’s path. They ordered all ships to prepare to ride out the storm at anchor. Our experienced skipper was
very concerned, and ordered the engine room to build and maintain a head of steam. He also ordered that we
move much further away from the reefs and put down two widely separated anchors on long chains.
I had already gained a great respect for typhoons, because of having experienced a very bad one off
the coast of Australia on my last trip. It had caused major damage requiring that our boat be repaired in Australia. Also, the first typhoon had given us a taste of what riding out a typhoon in Buckner Bay can be like.
Tuesday, Oct. 9, 1945 - Before 10 am, the wind, waves, and spray began to build up rapidly. We had
a lookout strapped in the bow, who communicated with the bridge thorough the gun crew’s telephone system.
One of the lookout’s duties was to observe the anchor chains to the extent possible to determine whether or
not the chains were slack. When applying thrust from the engine, it would be possible to override the anchors
and travel up wind without knowing it. By 10 am, the rapidly rising wind had already risen to 40 knots and
the falling barometer had reached 989 millibars. The visibility was low, the seas were rapidly rising, and the
rain and spray were almost horizontal. By 12 noon, it had become quite dark, and visibility had reached almost zero. and the steady winds had reached 60 knots. Already some smaller craft had broken loose from
their anchorage, and some large ships were in trouble.
As the wind intensity increased, some boats and ships began coming down on us, some passing quite
close. When some boats began to realize that would be blown ashore, or would possibly sink, some sent distress messages. However, under the circumstances, there was no possibility of receiving any kind of help. I
also heard some distress calls from Naha Bay at the south of the Island and from Hagushi Bay on the western
side (we were on the eastern side). One ship that passed close by our starboard side, blinked at us saying that
they were sinking and asked us to send distress for them. They had electrical power but must have lost their
antenna. I didn't have the name of the ship, and knew that there was no possibility of help of any kind. However, I felt that the rules and regulations required that I send a quick “unknown ship” distress message on both
500 kc. and the harbor frequency. Both frequencies were loaded with distress messages that served no purpose. I expect that none of the messages were being received because they were all being sent at the same
time. I tried to copy some, but it was impossible. Also, no shore station was heard, and it is probable that the
local coastal station had already been destroyed because of the temporary nature of the military construction.
By 2 pm, the wind was 80 knots (92 mph) from the east, and the waves were 30 to 35 feet. Many
boats and ships lost their anchors or were dragging anchor. It was as dark as night, and ships were not able to
see other vessels coming down on them until they had collided. Sometimes several ships piled up together on
the beach
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The tremendous waves, and the wind-driven rain and spray made it hard to see the lights of the other
vessels until they were right on us. The Liberty Ship "S.S. Music" had been anchored ahead of us, and the
lookout that was strapped in our bow reported that she was coming down on us stern-first. When the Music
was just off our port bow, she signaled by signal lamp that we were overtaking her. However, our skipper
knew that the Music was dragging her anchor because our anchor chains were taut. At anchor, we could
change our position but little. Reverse thrust would tear us loose from our anchorage, so forward thrust was
applied and the ship was turned to the starboard. That caused our ship to swing at anchor enough that the Music passed us on the port side, so close that we couldn't understand how she had failed to hook our anchor
chain. Moments later a barge-like vessel came down on us and we received a glancing blow that made a dent
on the starboard side of our ship. All the while, 500 kc was covered by useless distress calls.
The storm raged on, and about 4 pm it reached its peak. The wind was blowing a steady 100 knots
(115 mph), with gusts as high as 120 knots (138 mph), and the barometric pressure was 968.5 millibars. Any
ship in the harbor that had not already been sunk, damaged, grounded, or driven ashore was lucky indeed.
About 5 pm, after the center passed over, the wind direction shifted to the northwest, and we again
had a similar experience, with ships and boats coming down on us, some narrowly missing us, and disappearing into the spray and darkness. Several times, we avoided collision by judicious use of thrust. We learned
later that some of the ships that had been driven ashore previously, were blown off into deep water. Some
sank because of hull damage or took another wild ride across the bay. ending up on the opposite beach. The
extremely high winds continued, and even increased for a while. About 10 pm the winds reduced to 80 knots,
and later to and 60 knots, frequent higher gusts.
We thought that we had not drug anchor, but when the wind, waves, and spray subsided early the
next morning, we discovered that we had drug our anchor a substantial distance to a spot near the entrance to
the bay and that we were just off a reef on the starboard side. As soon as conditions permitted, we raised our
anchors and moved the ship back to the assigned anchorage. About 10 am on 10 Oct., the winds subsided to a
steady 40 knots (46 mph). From 40 knots rising to 40 knots subsiding, the terrible storm had lasted a full 24
hours. Damage to our ship was minimal, although some of the deck cargo had torn loose and had been severely damaged.
When it became light enough to look around Buckner Bay with the binoculars, it was clear that a
large percentage of the vessels had sunk or washed ashore. Piles of vessels could be seen on the shore. Our
ship was among the few that were still at anchor. The Music had probably taken a very wild ride, but she was
now back in her anchorage. I felt she owed us an apology.
I realized that there was no way that Uncle Hundley’s camp could have survived, and hoped that he
had made it safely through the storm. I also thought about the newly built native village that we had visited,
and felt certain that it had been completely destroyed.
On Thursday, Oct. 11, 1945. I went ashore and could hardly believe what I saw. A very high surge
must have accompanied the typhoon, because large ships and small ships were piled high up on the shore.
Some large ships were sitting on the bottom due to hull damage, and a very large number of smaller craft had
been sunk by the waves. It appeared that few of those ships could be repaired. Fortunately, the war was over,
and neither the boats nor their cargoes were critically needed. However, many lives had been lost. Most of the
aircraft had been flown off the Island before the typhoon arrived, but I saw some wrecked aircraft at the Yonabaru airstrip. Most of the buildings were destroyed, or made totally useless. I was told that 60,000 soldiers
had lost their housing, and many of them had lost their tents, clothing, and personal effects.
Note (2003): I learned from the Internet that during Typhoon Louise at Okinawa, a total of 12 ships
were sunk, 222 were grounded, and 32 others were severely damaged. Considering the magnitude of the disaster, the loss of life had been far less that what would have been expected. There were 36 dead and 47 missing, for a total of 83. There were many injured, and a hospital ship was brought to Buckner Bay because the
on-shore medical facilities had been destroyed. End note
270
Although our ship had gone through a terrible and dangerous experience, life aboard our ship was the
same as before the storm. We had a good place to sleep and 3 good meals a day. Okinawa had been stocking
up with all kinds of war materials in preparation for the Japanese invasion. Many of the Naval vessels, and
also the aircraft, were there for the that reason. If the invasion had turned out to be necessary, this typhoon
would have caused a considerable setback in their plans.
I learned that Uncle Hundley’s camp had been blown completely away. All of military facilities
ashore were in a similar shape. Men destined to be sent home had been put in tents in a makeshift personnel
center, where thousands of them were being processed for return to the United States. At the administrative
tent, I learned that Uncle Hundley was indeed there, and they gave me the “address” of his tent. I found him
and Miller Krebs, my cousin, in a tent stretched out on their cots. They had both received their orders to return to the U.S., and were killing time waiting for transportation. Uncle Hundley had collected a fine old Japanese officer’s sword, and it was too long for his barracks bag. The ornate hilt was exposed for everyone to
see. I suggested that he had better find a better way to carry it if he wanted to get home with it. We had a nice
chat and vowed to continue it after we were safely back home. Note (2003): I saw Uncle Hundley many
times after the war, and several times visited him and his wife Frances at their home in Ajijic, Jalisco, Mexico, on the shore of beautiful Lake Chapala. He died there in 1976. Although our paths nearly crossed a number of times, I never saw my cousin Miller Krebs again. He died in Florida several years ago. End note.
When I returned to the ship and met the radio schedule, I got a message saying that we were not to
unload, but would sail for the U.S. at 7:30 am the following day. That night, we heard a news broadcast from
the U.S. that said that a report had been received concerning a bad typhoon that had hit Okinawa and it appeared that there had been “some” damage to ships and facilities and “some” loss of life. Knowing that there
had been substantial errors in the management of the typhoon situation, and I thought that perhaps the military was intentionally underplaying the event. All of the larger vessels should have put out to sea on a NE
course several days prior to the arrival of the two typhoons, especially the last one. Our skipper was an older,
experienced seaman who had sailed the region prior to the war, and had stated early on that we should be
clearing the harbor and putting out to sea. Had the ships done that, a large percentage of the losses of ships,
boats, and human life could have been avoided.
Departure for home!
Friday, Oct. 11, 1945. We sailed for Seattle on a northerly course, which passed by Japan. We got a
glimpse of Mt. Fuji in the distance. A few days out, we received a radio message directing us to throw overboard the cannon ammunition, which I suppose was a safety precaution. The gun crew requested of the gunnery officer, Lt. Johnson that they hold back some of shells, and that they be allowed to fire them. Some of
the gun crew had not fired the cannon since they had begun sailing as gunnery crewmembers. They seemed to
get great delight skipping the large projectiles across the surface of the ocean. However, the firing was quickly stopped because the percussion, especially from the 5” gun, was potentially damaging to the ship.
As we neared the northwestern coast of the U.S., we received another radiogram that directed us to
deliver our cargo to San Pedro, California, near Los Angeles.
Arrival at San Pedro, California
We arrived at San Pedro, close to Los Angeles, in the early morning hours on Nov. 9, 1945, and anchored in the bay. The bay was nearly full of ships, many of which obviously had returned with their cargo.
Together with my good friends Charlie Johnson (Second Mate), Johnny Johnson (Navy Gunnery Officer, and Paul Blowers (Third Mate), I went ashore that evening and had dinner at the Coconut Grove, which
was a fine restaurant and nightclub in Los Angeles. The realization that our war service was over, and that our
lives would change drastically, we spent our evening discussing what we would do next. None of us had a job
lined up. The least concerned was Johnny Johnson, who already had a college degree in education. He wanted
to remain in teaching and felt that he would have no trouble finding a suitable position. I had talked with him
often about going to school after the war, and he had suggested that entering school would not only be the
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best long term career decision I could make, but it would also eliminate the immediate problem of finding
employment. Taking a job immediately would risk the possibility of becoming locked into something that had
little future. That was very wise advice, and it helped to solidify my own thinking, which had been similar.
Upon our arrival at San Pedro, we had been ordered not to discharge the crew until after the ship's
cargo had been unloaded. I took that to mean that we might have to deliver the ship to another port, perhaps
the homeport of Seattle. There were many ships in the harbor, and more were arriving each day. Most of
those ships were returning from the last voyage that they would ever make, and like our ship, many still held
the cargo they had carried to a distant destination.
#84 -- From left: Second Mate Charlie Johnson, Chief Radio Offi cer Jim Farrior,
Naval Gunnery Officer Carl “Johnny” Johnson, Third Mate Paul Blowers -- The Coconut Grove, Los Angel es, Nov. 9, 1945.
A paid vacation
Although my desire was to leave for home as soon as possible, my stay on the ship turned out to be
nearly three weeks of paid vacation. I took the opportunity to visit many points of interest. One of them was a
visit to Paramount Studios in Hollywood, where I was able to watch a scene from “Monsieur Beaucaire” being filmed. It featured Bob Hope and Joan Caufield. Only a few observers were admitted, and we stood on a
platform against the wall a short distance behind the cameras. We were instructed not to make any kind of
noise. It was very interesting, and Bob Hope looked as though he was having the time of his life.
I also visited the La Brae Tar Pits, from which scores of prehistoric animal skeletons have been removed. These extinct mammals and birds lived some 25,000 years ago, and they had become trapped in the
tar, actually asphalt, that seeped from the ground. The bones are perfectly preserved, but are dyed a tan color
by the asphalt. There was no museum at the site, but many of the findings were on exhibit at the Natural History Museum. I spent the best part of a day viewing the many prehistoric animal skeletons, large and small,
that were displayed, along with some models indicating how the live animals looked. The most impressive
were skeletons of the huge mastodon and mammoth, and the fierce looking saber-toothed tiger.
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I become unemployed
Finally, on Nov. 29, 1945, we were discharged. When I received my pay, I realized that I was not only unemployed, but also I had no occupation. I wondered when I would again be paid for my services, and
what kind of work I would be doing. My future life was certain to be very different from the past. I left by
train the next day for home in Montgomery, Alabama.
A list of my voyages while in the Merchant Marine
Voyages aboard the S.S. John Chandler:
Voyage
Left from
Sign on
Date
Returned to
Sign off
Date
Cargo Destination
#1
Boston, Mass
06-08-43
New York
07-02-43
Hull, England *
#2
New York
07-27-43
New York
09-13-43
Southampton, UK
#3
New York
09-21-43
Norfolk, Va.
12-28-43
Bône, Algeria
#4
Norfolk, Va.
01-07-44
Boston
01-14-44
Coastal to Boston
#5
Boston
01-29-44
New York
04-10-44
Hull, England
#6
New York
04-19-44
New York
06-13-44
Newport, England
#7
New York
06-27-44
New York
10-16-44
Ancona, Italy **
*I joined the ship at Hull, England, for the return voyage to the U.S.
**On the return voyage from Ancona, Italy, the ship was diverted to Puerto Padre, Cuba, for a cargo of sugar,
which was delivered to Brooklyn, N.Y.
Voyages aboard the S.S. Anthony Ravalli:
Voyage
#8
#9
Left from
New Orleans
Tacoma, Wa.
Date
Returned to
Date
Cargo Destination
11-27-44
07-14-45
Tacoma, Wa.
Los Angeles
06-17-45
11-29-45
Philippines *
Okinawa **
*After the cargo was delivered to San Jose, Mindora, the ship was diverted to Port Kembla and
Newcastle, Australia, for cargo of coal destined for New Caled onia. A cargo of nickel nuggets was
taken from New Caledonia to Tacoma Washington
**The war having ended, the cargo of war materials was returned to the U.S.
What happened to the S.S. John Chandler and the S.S. Anthony Revalli?
Many Liberty Ships, perhaps most of them, went directly into storage at special anchorages, where
they remained until many years later when they were declared surplus and sold for scrap. There was a company in Panama City, Florida, that scrapped Liberty Ships, and when on a family vacation there in the 60s, I
stopped by in hopes that I might be allowed aboard to have a last look. However, I was told that their insurance did not cover such visitors, and I could only view one that was tied up at the pier without going aboard.
Nothing had yet been stripped from her, and it was very nostalgic just to view her from the pier. A few days
later, I went there in our runabout, “River Flivver”, and saw her from the water side. That was the port side,
where the radio room and the Radio Officer’s Stateroom were located. Unfortunately, I didn’t record the
ship’s name. The next time that I would see a Liberty Ship would be in Jacksonville, Florida, in August of
1994 when, together with my daughter Sue, my wife Peggy, I visited the S.S. Jeremiah O’Brien. The next day
I took a day-cruise on the ship. That visit has been previously described in this book.
Some Liberty Ships sailed commercially for various lengths of time after the war, mostly under the
flags of other countries. Both the Chandler and Revalli had a life after the war. I knew nothing about what
happened to the Chandler and the Revalli after the war until a good friend of mine, William Orr, who is an
expert in such subjects, kindly sent me an e-mail on 3 January 1998 giving me the information contained in
the following note:
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Note: The John Chandler was built by New England Shipbuilding Corp. (Portland, Main) as Hull
#215 and launched in April of 1943. In 1947, her name was changed to Rochefort, and in 1971 to Ephimeron.
She was scrapped at Kaohsiung in April of 1971. “The Anthony Ravalli was built by Oregon Shipbuilding
Corp. (Portland, Oregon) as hull #764 and launched in September 1943. She was scrapped in Philadelphia in
1961.” He had no information concerning the voyages made. (Information from William Orr) End note.
Part III -- A brief account of life after the war
I hope the reader has enjoyed my wartime story. Since my story has been told, perhaps this
part of the book could have been left unwritten. However, the book was written primarily for fa mily and relatives, and since I will distribute some copies among them, I decided to add a brief r ecord of what has happened to my family and me since I returned from the war. The reader is i nvited
to continue reading if he wishes.
Arrival home
On Dec. 3, 1945, I arrived in Montgomery, and was happy to be with my family and at long last in
my part of the world. I really regretted that circumstances had caused our family to move to Montgomery
from the country town of Letohatchie where I had been raised. I wanted to see my old friends. It was squirrel
and rabbit hunting season, but I couldn’t participate. I quickly decided that I would enter the Alabama Polytechnic Institute (API), but couldn’t enter until the spring quarter of 1946.
#145 -- This photo of me was taken by my mother
in December 1945, a few days after my arrival in
Montgomery.
With hunting in mind, I bought a new Jeep. It was
from surplus Army production that had been sent to the
automobile dealers, as they had no new cars for sale. The
production of civilian vehicles had been ceased during the
war. I made two visits to Letohatchie in the Jeep, but
found that things there were much different from previously. It was really dead. Bill Colvard, my main hunting
friend, was staying at that time in Montgomery with his
mother. Others had not yet returned from their war service, and most of those would not be able to remain in
Letohatchie when they did return. My friend Jimmy Payne
had a job in another city. The war was the beginning of
the decline for Letohatchie. From then on, it was down
hill.
On the brighter side, I had met some very nice
girls in Montgomery, and it became clear that girls were
not favorably impressed when I drove up at their home in
a Jeep. I had a talk with the dealer who had sold it to me. He was happy to see me, as he had no more Jeeps
for sale and had a potential customer who wanted one. His customer had a low mileage 1940 Plymouth sedan
that was of about the same value as my Jeep. The man liked my Jeep and I liked his Plymouth, so the dealer
accepted a small brokerage fee, and a swap was made. I drove away in my first real car, which turned out to
be a fine, reliable automobile that served me well. Having plenty of time, a car, and many places to go, I was
not bored while I waited for the spring quarter to begin at Auburn. The car allowed me to go to Auburn to
look at the campus and find a place to board when school began.
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Mother made available to me a small table in the corner of the hall where I could temporarily install
my amateur radio station. With considerable excitement, I opened the case containing my radio gear that I
had nailed shut in 1941 before leaving for Canada. The old antenna was uncoiled and strung between two
trees. Everything worked, and I was back on the air for the first time since 1941. I felt some of the original
excitement of ham radio. I made contact with some of my old prewar friends and met some new ones. I enjoyed using my semi-automatic telegraph key (bug), but realized that it was a skill that I would never again
use as a commercial telegraph operator. Except for marine telegraphy, teletypes had taken over. The family
had used my Hallicrafters Sky Champion communications receiver for the family radio while I was gone, so I
had to “borrow” it from the table in the family room when I wanted to use it. Note (2003) -- I still have that
Hallicrafters receiver, which still works, and I continue to keep it for sentimental reasons. End note.
#130 -- My first car, a 1940
Plym outh, bought in Jan.
1946 when I was 26 years
old.
I enter the Alabama Polytechnic Institute (API)
My enrollment at API was
the achievement of a major goal in
itself, as I had saved and worked
hard to prepare myself for this. I
had no reason to believe that I
would not achieve the next goal,
which would be my graduation.
Shortly after I began at Auburn, I moved to a rooming house on Gay Street. Jimmy Coleman, the
brother of Guy Coleman, with whom I had made the Alabama River trip and who had lost his life during the
war, was also staying there. My bed was against the outside wall near a window, and Mrs. Moreman, who ran
the rooming house, permitted me to place my ham equipment on a small study table at the foot of the bed. An
antenna was strung between two trees, and I was again able to enjoy my favorite hobby. Although I wore earphones, I’m not sure my roommates appreciated the sound of the code.
The studying that I had done while on the Isle of Man, and later while aboard ship really paid off well
after I entered Auburn. Because of it, I was in my senior year before I encountered anything that required
much study. My high school had not taught all of the required subjects, and some additional make-up courses
had to be taken during the first two freshman quarters. Later, thanks to the help of Grady Saunders, one of the
professors who had become my friend, the school allowed me to sit for the exam for two engineering courses
without having attended the classes. For both courses, he gave me a comprehensive oral exam and an A grade
for the course. That allowed me to finish school one quarter earlier than would otherwise have been the case.
Just after I enrolled for my second quarter, I was surprised and dismayed when I received a letter
from the draft board in Atlanta directing me to report to Ft. McPherson, Ga., for a pre-induction physical examination on June 17, 1946. It had not occurred to me that I could be drafted. The military was discharging a
very large percentage of those drafted during the war, and was filling their requirements by drafted men who
had not served. I reported for examination and was found acceptable for general military service, and was told
to return home and await direction as to where and when to report for induction. I could hardly believe what
had happened, and wrote some letters that resulted in my learning that I lacked only a few days of having sufficient service in the Merchant Marine to be exempted under the rules existing at the time. It was suggested
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that I sign on a ship, which would result in my being automatically deferred, and then, after I had served the
additional few days, I could leave the ship at the first opportunity and would then be exempted. That would
require me to drop out of school, but it seemed the only way out. I could tell that I was dealing with clerical
types who simply followed the rules, no matter how ridiculous. I wrote to the draft board and told them that I
would do that. Fortunately, a few days later, a bill was passed in Congress that exempted from the draft all
Merchant Marine veterans who had had at least 24 months of service in the war zones. That was a close call!
Although I was happy to be off the hook, it made me angry to realize that among my friends at school
were several men who had been drafted, but had not yet finished their basic training when the war ended. Also, many of the veterans that I knew had never been in a war zone. They had all been discharged with veteran’s benefits and were receiving a free education.
Note: The men who sailed in the Merchant Marine had been promised veterans benefits by the War
Shipping Administration. During the war, they suffered the highest casualty rate of any service, but when the
war ended, they were told that they did not qualify because Congress failed to pass a funding bill. The Merchant Marine had nobody to speak for them, and nothing was done about it until 32 years later, in1977, when
members of the Merchant Marine were officially granted full Veteran status, provided they applied and documented a minimum of two years of wartime service. The government would not assist them in documenting
their service. To qualify, they must have kept the small Cost Guard discharges that they received after each
voyage. Upon applying, and after a considerable wait, I received a standard military discharge document and
a nice certificate with the title “Honorable Discharge from the Armed Forces of the United States of America”. It further stated that I was “Honorably Discharged from the United States Coast Guard on 13 August
1945”. Strangely, the date of my discharge was the date of the formal surrender of Japan, when I was at sea
on my way to Okinawa, riding on a cargo that contained many tons of explosives. Also received were a “Liberation Medal” from the Philippine government, and a letter from President Harry Truman that he had written
at the end of the war to be sent to all Merchant Marine men. However, the government had decided not to
distribute it after the war fearing that it would cause those who had served to demand the benefits they had
been promised. By the time the Merchant Marine men became qualified for Veteran’s recognition, most of
them were deceased, and none of them had enjoyed the primary veteran’s benefit, which was the GI Bill under which vast numbers of veterans attended college. Essentially, the only remaining benefit left is a flag for
one’s coffin. End note.
I had studied for and acquired a First Class Telephone License during the war, and that qualified me
to work as a broadcast radio engineer. In August 1946, I met on ham radio John Venters, a student and Chief
Engineer of WJHO, the local radio station. He, too, had been a radio officer during the war. He told me that
an engineer was needed at the station. Since radio announcing was part of the job, I had to demonstrate to the
station manager, Marion Hyatt, that I could read the news, run a record show, read advertising spots, etc., before being hired. A good thing about that job was that I could nearly always complete my homework during
the evening shift when the station was running Mutual Network programs. I only had to give the station
breaks and read some spots. When John went back to sea as a Radio Officer about a year later, I became the
Chief Engineer. I also did numerous consulting jobs while taking a full load at school. My grades were good,
and I was elected to the honorary Engineering societies Eta Kappa Nu and Tau Beta Pi.
In early 1947. I began dating Peggy Adams, a petty girl who was the copywriter at WJHO. Her father
was deceased, and she and her mother lived in Opelika, a town 7 miles from Auburn where John Venters and
I then roomed at Mrs. Cherry’s home. The WJHO station was located just outside of Opelika on the road to
Auburn. With school, my work at WJHO, a radio maintenance job with the taxi companies and Fire Departments in Opelika and Auburn, a job reading a meter every morning that showed how much natural gas the
city of Opelika had used, and an engineer on call with the FM broadcast radio station in Lafayette, Ala., I
didn’t have much time for dating. However, we did manage to spend some time together.
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#146 -- I snapped this photo of Peggy in July 1947, at Lake Condy, a swimming place near
Opelika where we went several times.
About the first of November, I gathered my courage and asked her to marry me. Her affirmative answer changed my life. I went to Montgomery and bought engagement and wedding rings, and couldn’t wait to
get back and slip the engagement ring on her finger. We set December 24 as the date, as that was about the
only date that would let me clear a week for a honeymoon. After Mr. Hyatt, the station manager, had approved my taking the time off, I told him that he would have to get another copywriter because I didn’t want
Peggy to continue working. Peggy turned in her resignation early so that she could prepare for the wedding. I
had such a full work schedule leading up to December 24, and even early that morning, I was hard pressed to
get to the church on time.
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Peggy and I are married
On Dec. 24, 1947, only two years following my return from my war-service, Peggy and I were married. My
life had been such that I had never given any thought to marrying, but my bachelor days had run out. Apparently, Peggy had also given no thought to marrying. However, we were in love, and that was all that mattered.
#131 -- On Dec. 24, 1947, our sim ple m a rriage cerem ony took place at the First Baptist
Church in Opelika, Al abam a, with only fam ily m em bers present.
We had a small wedding in the Opelika Baptist Church with only members of our immediate families
present. My mother, my Aunt Josephine Walker, and my grandmother Mrs. J. O. Thompson (Mamère), came
to Opelika for the event. Also Peggy’s mother, her sister Roberta, Roberta’s husband T.K. Davis, and their
young son Tommy were present. Together with Peggy and me, the preacher and the organ player, the total
people at the wedding was ten. Following the wedding, we drove to Key West, and points between, on our
enjoyable honeymoon. Peggy had never before been so far from home. Fortunately, my not-so-new car ran
like a top.
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Note: T. K. Davis, Peggy’s sister’s husband, was a prominent Opelika businessman and co-owner of DavisDyer Equipment Company, and other business interests. He later became Mayor of Opelika. T.K. paid the
small cost of the wedding, which covered the flowers, a payment for the organ player, and the preacher. After
Peggy and I had left for our honeymoon, T.K. and Roberta had Mother, Aunt Josephine, and Mamère for dinner. My total cost for the wedding was the photographer. Mr. Yutemeyer, Opelika’s best photographer, had
covered the wedding and had taken 7 shots for a total cost of $3.75, not counting a few prints that we bought.
About 25 years later, Yutemeyer’s daughter gave me the negatives when she went to work for the Lockheed
Research and Engineering Center in Huntsville, Ala., where I was the Director. End note.
Melvin Sanderson, my stepfather, dies
On April 17, 1948, Melvin Sanderson died following several months of illness. Mother and Melvin
had been very happy for the 11 years that they had been married. Melvin had been like a father to Anne, Joe,
and me and had it not been for him, I’m certain that it would not have been possible for me to finish high
school, making college an impossibility. Peggy and I went to the graveside service at the cemetery behind the
very historical Tabernacle Church north of Letohatchie, where Melvin’s parents had been buried. Shortly afterward, Mother went to work at Hubbard’s Hospital.
Our daughter Sue is born!
On Oct. 12, 1948, our first daughter, Sue, was born. Neither Peggy nor I knew anything at all about
babies, but learning was a wonderful experience. The fact that Peggy’s mother lived downstairs was a big
help. Although my work and school day were very long, we were very happy in our small upstairs apartment
that we rented from Peggy’s brother-in-law, T. K Davis.
#132 -- Peggy took baby Sue to Yutemeyer’s
Studio and had this nice photograph taken.
In 1949, the Plymouth that I had bought when
I returned from the war was in need of engine repairs,
and T.K., who owned a Hudson dealership, sold me a
new Hudson at his cost and also gave us a good
trade-in on the old Plymouth. The Hudson was a fine
car, and we used it for a number of years. We were
riding in style!
My graduation from the Alabama Polytechnic
Institute
On August 27, 1949, that happy graduation day
at long last arrived, and I received my diploma from API
(Auburn) with a BS degree in Electrical Engineering
(Electronics Option). Just prior to my graduation, I signed
a one-year contract with Auburn to substitute for Prof. Cecil Clements, a professor who went to MIT to complete his requirements for a doctorate. I didn’t know at the time, and neither did he, that his wife’s mother was
a Farrior relative of mine from my home county of Lowndes. He was a full professor and I taught all of his
classes, which included two difficult ones, Television Engineering, and Transmission Lines and Wave
Guides. I retained my job as Chief Engineer at WJHO, and also did some consulting. That year gave me a
period during which I could evaluate several options for a future career. I was 30 years old and had no time to
waste. I drove to the Oak Ridge National Laboratory, Oak Ridge, Tennessee, an Atomic Energy Facility, and
was offered a job as an electronic design engineer to design displays for a new nuclear energy museum, con-
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tingent upon an Atomic Energy Q clearance being approved. However, the clearance didn’t come through
until Jan. 11, 1951, after I had already accepted other employment. That delay was very fortunate for me.
I join Dr. Wernher von Braun’s Rocket Team
In late 1950, it was my good fortune to obtain an excellent position as a member of Dr. Wernher von
Braun’s rocket team that was part of the U.S. Army Ballistic Missile Agency at Huntsville, Alabama. The
team was in the process of moving from Fort Bliss, Texas, to new facilities at Redstone Arsenal near Huntsville. Previously, they had had a small staff, but were now beginning recruitment of a large organization. I
was getting in at an opportune time. I had earlier gone to Huntsville for interviews with the heads of the laboratories. They had told me that I was qualified to work in any of the labs, so I had accepted a position with
the Guidance and Control Laboratory. The work being done there was closest to my interests, and it turned
out that I had made a fortunate choice. I had a lot to learn in a hurry, but the German engineers and scientists
were good teachers. Dr. Helmut Schlidt, Dr. Walter Haeusserman, Dr. Theodor Buchhold, Dr. Ernst Stuhlinger, Dr. Wernher von Braun, among others, took a personal interest in me. I soon became the first American in the organization to have a high- level technical management position when I was placed in charge of
the design and development of guidance schemes and guidance computers.
At that time, Huntsville was a small, historic, cotton town of about 16,000 inhabitants, located in
north Alabama a few miles north of the Tennessee River. However, with the coming of Dr. von Braun’s rocket team, it rapidly began to grow. Houses were not being built rapidly enough to meet the demand. When we
first arrived in Huntsville, we rented a small poorly constructed home, but after several months I was fortunate to learn that a Mr. Head, with whom I worked, was going to sell his nice small, relatively new, home at
1920 Thornton Circle. I purchased it directly from Mr. Head at a good price of approximately $9,000. It had a
separate garage that also contained a room in which I was able to install a small electronics lab and my amateur radio station.
While attending school my earnings had more than covered my school and living expenses. Nearly all
of the money that I had saved during the war to pay for my education was used instead to make a substantial
down payment on our first home in Huntsville. That was a fortunate investment because real estate values
steadily increased, and that initial investment continued to multiply, tax free. That has allowed us through the
years to own and enjoy far better homes than would have otherwise been the case, without being burdened by
excessively high home loans. While living in that home, we acquired our first television, a Philco radio-TVrecord player console that we bought at wholesale from T.K. Davis, who sold them in his Opelika Equipment
Company. Initially, there was no cable and only two weak channels that we could receive on a roof mounted
antenna. The programming was hardly worth watching.
In early 1955, we bought a lot on Lafayette Road, in Thornton Acres, hoping some day to build a
larger and more modern home. However, a local contractor sold us a nice brick home at 2805 Lafayette Road
that was one lot removed from the lot we had bought, and he accepted our Thornton Circle home and interest
in our vacant lot as part payment. On June 22, 1955, we closed the deal and moved into our new home. We
were really proud of it, as it was newer, larger, of higher quality, and had more modern conveniences. For the
first time, we had air-conditioning, which was provided by several window units. There were numerous children in the neighborhood, and we installed a swing set in the large fenced backyard.
The home had a paneled room that I claimed for an office. I often had to bring home work in order to
prepare reports or to provide proper direction to my staff the next morning. Some mahogany glass door bookcases were bought to hold books in my rapidly growing collection of technical, archaeological, and genealogical books. I had little time for my radio amateur hobby, but I acquired a RME-69 communications receiver
for my desk so that I could listen in and maintain my code copying skill. Later, I would install my amateur
station in the garage. The utility room had plenty of space for my photographic darkroom, which I enjoyed
although I had little time to use it.
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Our daughter Janis is born!
On July 6, 1955, just two weeks after our move to Thornton Acres, our other daughter, Janis, was
born. Like Sue, Janis added much to our lives. Sue and Jan were always close in spite of their age difference.
Peggy was kept busy dressing them for their various activities. There were always a lot of kids around the
house.
#133 -- Janis in 1957. It seem s that she
has finished with her food and is po lishing off her milk and orange juice.
One of the first words she learned to
say was “juice”, sp oken with a real
Southern drawl.
I discover amateur archaeology
When we first moved into our new
home, the area across the street was still a cotton
field, and I would often take my bow, arrows,
and target into the field to practice. On Oct. 8,
1955, while searching for lost arrows, I found
several Indian arrowheads. A Negro workman at
a nearby house that was under construction, told
me that in the fields around his house out in the
country, there were many arrowheads and said
that I was welcome to search that area.
On Oct. 11, I found his house not far from where Highway 431 crosses the Flint River, and within a
few hours I had at least a dozen unbroken points, and many more broken ones. I was hooked. That began an
interest that has stayed with me through the years. I met some others who had similar interests, and we
formed a Madison County Archaeological Club. When the Alabama Archaeological Society was formed
some time later, the Madison County club was made an affiliate. I served as President of the Madison County
Club, and Vice President of the Alabama Archaeological Society. I am a life member of those organizations.
In Feb. 1956, learning that there were sites along the Tennessee River where Indian artifacts could be
found, I bought for $400 a second-hand 14-foot “Arkansas Traveler” aluminum boat with a 10 h.p. Johnson
outboard motor. It was a fine boat for Indian artifact hunting along the river. On the first outing in the boat on
Feb. 25th, I searched Hobbs Island and found a dozen points plus some other artifacts. We found and
searched many sites along the river and elsewhere, and collected many artifacts. When the family went out
together, I got used to carrying Jan on my hip while searching.
In July 1958, I received $672.00 trade-in allowance for that boat and trailer on the purchase of a new
16-foot “Avalon Glasspar” fiberglass runabout with a 50 h.p. motor. The total cost of the boat and trailer, less
trade-in, was $1,995. I went to the Glasspar factory in Nashville, Tennessee, to pick up the boat, and took advantage of the opportunity to visit my mother, who lived there at the time. After her second husband, Melvin
Sanderson, died in 1948, she had married in 1956 a fine retired railroad man, Dewey Baker, of Nashville.
We named that wonderful boat “River Flivver”, and it provided our family a means not only for
searching for artifacts, but also for pleasure boating, picnics, water-skiing, and fishing. It could also be towed
to other places, including Panama City on the Gulf of Mexico, where we vacationed each year. Jan and Sue
were growing like weeds, and the family enjoyed many hours boating on the river.
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My work required that I travel to Cape Canaveral, Florida, to participate in missile and space launchings. Sometimes, I was able to take the family down for a short vacation on Cocoa Beach, near Cape Canaveral, which at that time was largely undeveloped. I had to work much of the time, but there was still plenty of
time to enjoy the beach. Following a successful Redstone firing, I went with von Braun and several others to
the Florida Keys for two days of exciting scuba diving.
A trip to Europe and the UK
In August of 1958, Dr. Wernher von Braun was scheduled to be a principal speaker at a week-long
meeting of the International Astronautical Federation in Amsterdam, Holland, and he appointed Dr. Walter
Haeussermann, Dr. Ernst Stuhlinger, and me to accompany him. I felt that it was quite an honor, especially
since, in selecting me, he passed over many German scientists that had worked for him for many years.
On Aug. 20, 1958, we departed Huntsville for Washington on a commercial flight, and then went to
Andrews Air Force Base to take a Military Air Transport Service (MATS) flight to Paris. We were put in the
VIP lounge to wait until boarding time. I had not seen my Uncle Hundley Thompson since he had been so
kind to me at Okinawa, where he had been Provost marshal in 1945. He was a Colonel then, but after the war
he had to accept the rank of Major in order to remain in the Army. He had regained the rank of Colonel again
and was serving as the Provost Marshall at Andrews AFB. He arrived at the VIP lounge a few minutes after I
gave him a call. We had a wonderful time talking about family members and remembering our experiences at
Okinawa. We had about two hours to talk before it was time for us to board, and we could have used much
more time if it had been available. We expressed a hope that it would not be so long until our next meeting.
The MATS flight was rather crowded and uncomfortable, but we arrived on time at 10:30 AM at Orly
Airport in Paris. We had nearly one and a half days at Paris and Wernher, who was very familiar with Paris,
directed us to some interesting historical places, including a floorshow at the Moulin Rouge. Wernher’s
French was much better than mine, but I enjoyed using my broken French when I had the opportunity.
We then flew on another MATS flight to Frankfurt, Germany, where we had nearly a full day to see
some of the sights. I had recently taken two semesters of German in the evenings at the University of Alabama. My teacher was Magnus von Braun, Wernher’s brother. I had also completed a German magnetic tape
course. Several times, I found my German studies to be useful. Unfortunately, Wernher had forbidden German to be spoken at the workplace at Huntsville, and that had taken away my primary opportunity to practice.
The next morning we boarded a train and took the long, scenic trip along the Rhine to Amsterdam. The scenery was beautiful, and there were few times when we saw less that two or three castles perched on the tops of
mountains.
Arrival in Amsterdam - A funny happening
On 24 Aug., at 4 PM, we arrived in Amsterdam. When our group arrived at the train station, we
were met and taken to a hotel in an ancient building on a canal, typical of many others in Amsterdam. We
were told that in two hours a bus would pick us up for a private guided tour through an art museum. Not
wanting to waste any time, I took a taxi to town to have a look at the ancient city. Before leaving, I wrote on a
slip of paper the words appearing over the entrance to the small hotel.
After an hour of seeing some interesting sights in that ancient city, I decided that I should return to
the hotel to join the group for the art museum tour. I hailed a taxi and handed the driver my slip of paper. He
looked at it, laughed, and said in perfect English, “This says ‘Hotel Entrance’, and there are a large number of
them in Amsterdam”. That was very alarming because I had no record of the name of the hotel where we
were staying. We had been taken to a different hotel from the one named in my travel orders. I had only a
vague idea of the part of town where our hotel was located. The taxi driver, rather amused at my situation,
agreed to drive me slowly through the areas where there were literally dozens of small hotels on canals. They
all looked very similar, but after perhaps fifteen minutes I spotted the entrance to our hotel. I rushed in and
was told that a bus had already picked up our group. Upon their return, I learned that I had missed a private
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tour through the Reichsmuseum, Amsterdam’s famous art museum filled with paintings by the old masters.
Fortunately, I was able to visit the fabulous Reichsmuseum later on my own, but without the benefit of a
guide.
Many interesting papers were presented at the meeting during the days that followed. I had the opportunity to meet the leading space scientists from around the world, including Professor Leonid Sedov, head of
the Russian Space Program. I was fascinated as he and Wernher argued some of the unclassified aspects of
earth satellites and space vehicles. Because I was present, they spoke English. This meeting was probably the
most significant meeting that had been held up to that time on the subject of rocketry and space vehicles.
A visit to the Worlds Fair in Brussels
On Aug. 31, our meeting having ended, I traveled by train through some interesting scenery to Brussels to visit the World Fair. I had been authorized to take up to 5 days of annual leave in connection with my
trip. When I stepped off the train, I met a well dressed man who said that his family provided a room at his
home for people attending the Fair, so I went with him to his nice home, where I was well treated during my
stay for less than the cost of a hotel room. It was also just a block from where I could catch a bus to the Fair.
The Fair was even more impressive than I had imagined, and I spent two days visiting the exhibits.
To me, one of the most impressive was the Russian Pavilion, which was filled with exhibits related to their
space program. I also visited the ancient downtown section of Brussels, which contained buildings dating
back to the 1500s. I had a relatively new 35 mm camera and took many color slides.
A visit to England
On Sept. 3, at 11 AM, I departed Brussels for the short flight to London. Earlier in the year, scientists from various British organizations had visited Huntsville to discuss our guidance and control work, and
arrangements had been made for me to visit several British organizations in and near London, and at Farnborough. I saw a lot of interesting things, but it was clear that their technology level was substantially below ours
at Huntsville. At Farnborough, I found it hard to confine my attention to the subject of my visit, because the
room we were in overlooked the airport where the famous Farnborough Air Show was in progress. We had a
grandstand view of some of the aircraft as they demonstrated their capabilities, and it frequently diverted our
attention away from the things that I had come to see. At lunch, they took me to the RAF Officer’s Dining
Room, and listening to their accents brought back many memories. The pilots sitting near me said that they
had trained at Cranwell, and they were surprised when I told them that I had also trained there during the war,
but in radar.
A visit to the Isle of Man
On Sept. 9, having completed my business in London, I went to the MATS terminal in Manchester,
where I was told that I would be put on standby, as there would be no seats available for nearly a week.
It was disappointing news at first, but I quickly realized the opportunity to visit the Isle of Man. I
caught a plane to London, where I caught a plane to Ronaldsway Airport at Castletown, I.O.M. Ronaldsway
airport during the war had been an unimproved airstrip without a terminal, but it had been converted into a
modern airport with several runways and a busy air terminal with several check-in stations.
When I stepped off the bus from the airport, a man named Charlie Phillips, who had been an orderly
in our Scarlett Point Camp infirmary, immediately recognized me. I had spent several days in the infirmary
with an infected ear. Charlie had become a doctor, and Charlie lived in England, but his wife was from Castletown and they had come for a visit. Small world! The George Hotel, where I had wanted to stay, was filed
because of a wedding party, but there was a vacancy at the Union Hotel, an ancient building with sloping
floors. I called the Manchester MATS terminal, and they said that they would call me when a seat could be
confirmed, and that they would notify my organization that I was on standby.
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It had been 15 years since I left the Isle of Man, and returning there was a very nostalgic experience.
It seemed that little had changed, except that all of the people were in civilian clothing. Due to the military
bases on the Island during the war, most people of military age had been in uniform.
I called Mrs. Cooil, who had been so very kind to me when I was billeted at her home, and told her
that I would like to visit her the following morning. It was nice to visit with her, and I spent the entire morning talking about the old wartime days and the changes that had occurred on the Isle of Man. Her fine, beautiful home, Merton Croft, was still in excellent repair and she took me upstairs to visit the room where I had
stayed. She said that she was somewhat feeble, but had a lady who came to help her each day.
I walked out the coastal road to the old RDF site where I had worked. Mr. Watterson had died, but I
was allowed to walk out to the various blockhouses that had housed our equipment and workspaces. They
were being used mostly for storage of farm machinery, but the Main T Block that had housed the MB-2
transmitter was being used as a shelter for cows. Our old RAF camp on Arbory Street was being used for a
school. Anne’s upstairs Supper Bar had been closed after the war when Vernie Vanwell had gone to America,
but Vernie’s brother, Arthur Vanwell, and his wife Kathleen were running the Vanwell Fish Shop downstairs.
I went through Castle Rushen and went to Laxey to see the large waterwheel again. It had been renovated,
and was slowly turning by waterpower from the original water source. It looked good, but I liked it best when
it looked old. When I had been there during the war, it had been still and deserted for many years.
Sept. 15, 1958. Although my visit to the I.O.M. had been enjoyable, I missed my family and needed
to get back to work. I was relieved when I received a call from the MATS terminal in Manchester telling me
that they had a seat for me. I arrived back in Huntsville on Sept. 17. Since I was on standby during my I.O.M.
visit, I was paid per diem for every day but one, which was a day that was charged to annual leave. The total
personal cost of the trip had been only some purely personal expenses, like film for my camera.
I join Lockheed in Sunnyvale, California
In late 1959, it became clear to me that although I liked Huntsville and my work very much, Huntsville offered no visible opportunity for career growth. Dr. Haeussermann, my superior, was one Civil Service
grade above me, and his superior, Dr. von Braun, who held the maximum Civil Service grade, was one grade
above him. Promises of new higher Civil Service grades being made available had not materialized. There
was talk that the new “National Aeronautics and Space Agency” (NASA), would take over our organization,
which may have provided some additional opportunities, but General Madaris, the Commanding Officer of
the Army Ordnance Missile Command, and Dr. von Braun had previously told me that they believed that only
a military organization would be able to get the kind of funds needed for developing the hardware required
for space exploration.
For nearly a year, I had worked with the Navy to help solve some challenging problems associated
with the conceptual aspects of a submarine launched Fleet Ballistic Missile (FBM), and had received a commendation from the Navy for my work. When Lockheed Missiles and Space Co., in Sunnyvale, California,
won the contract for development and manufacture of the submarine-launched FBM, then named Polaris, the
Navy suggested to Lockheed that they offer me the position of Manager of the Guidance and Control Department of the Missile Systems Division. Lockheed invited me to visit Sunnyvale so that I could evaluate the
job, the area, and the housing. The results of that trip were quite satisfactory, and I accepted the position.
My employment and life at Huntsville had been most interesting, exciting, rewarding, and enjoyable,
and it was with considerable sadness that I submitted my resignation to be effective August 5, 1959.
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#134 -- We pose at a m otel in Santa Fe,
N.M., during our trip to Califo rnia.
One very nice thing about moving to
California was that my brother, Joe, lived in San
Jose with his wife, Dorothy, and four children,
Joe (6), Linda (4), David (2), and Mary (1). San
Jose was not far from Sunnyvale, and I had not
lived close to any of my family since I left Opelika. Joe had been very helpful during my trip,
and had shown me all of the surrounding area.
More than that, he found us a nice rental home in
San Jose where we could live until we found a
place in Los Altos that would be closer to my
work.
We soon found and purchased a very
nice California-style home with a shake roof,
beautiful landscaping, several apricot trees, and a
huge fig tree. Located in a nice neighborhood at
1579 Wakefield Terrace, in Los Altos, it was
closer to my work than San Jose. We really enjoyed California. San Francisco, with all of its
interesting attractions, was a short drive away.
We especially enjoyed eating Chinese food in
China Town. We had brought our boat River
Flivver with us and sometimes went boating on San Francisco Bay, the Sacramento River, and Lake Taho,
where we spent a short vacation. A Lockheed employee I met at work sold me a like-new 17 ½’ Coastline
vacation trailer for $1,500. We kept it in a nearby trailer park, and were able to spend numerous weekends
camping in the redwood forests. We also took it on longer vacation trips to the Worlds Fair in Seattle, and to
Death Valley and San Diego
My work was both demanding and interesting. Shortly after I reported to work, I was promoted to the
position of Associate Director for Research and Engineering, and I had offices in both Sunnyvale and Palo
Alto. I was responsible for guidance and control systems, and the aerodynamic design and performance analysis for the Polaris, the first submarine launched missile, and also had responsibilities for development work
on the Agena Space Vehicle, an Air Force project. My organization rapidly grew to about 600 people, mostly
scientist and engineers. I participated in the land-launched developmental firings of the Polaris missile at
Cape Canaveral and was aboard a surface vessel that launched a Polaris missile. Later, I viewed a Polaris
missile being launched from a submerged submarine.
In late 1962, Lockheed sent me and another Lockheed manager, Dr. Potter Kerfoot, to Huntsville to
evaluate the potential for opening a Lockheed facility in the new Huntsville Research Park. The primary function of the facility would be to provide close research and engineering support to NASA’s Marshall Space
Flight Center and the Army’s Ballistic Missile Agency at Redstone Arsenal. We met with Dr. von Braun in
his office, and with his laboratory directors, all of whom I knew well, in their respective laboratories. We also
met with some of my friends at management level in the Army Ballistic Missile Agency. Basically, we were
told that there could be an opportunity for Lockheed, but only if Lockheed would act quickly to build a modern facility manned by highly experienced aerospace engineers and scientists. Upon receiving our report, Dan
Haughton, the Lockheed Corporate President, whose office was in Los Angeles, called me and told me that he
had given Gene Root, President of the Lockheed Missiles and Space Co., for whom I worked, the go-ahead
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for the Huntsville facility. He also said that he wanted me to be the Director of the facility if I wanted the job.
I had previously spoken with Dan several times, and he knew of my Huntsville experience and the fact that I
was from Alabama. Dan had been raised in Dora, a small Alabama town about the size of Letohatchie.
We move back to Huntsville
In Dec. 1962, we moved back to Huntsville. We had an interesting drive back towing our vacation
trailer, but staying in motels. The vacation trailer was packed with personal things that we didn’t trust to the
shipping company. Although all of us had liked California, we felt that we were headed back home. Lockheed
paid to have River Flivver shipped. We stopped and spent a day in Juarez, Mexico, which gave an interesting
break. Anxious to get back to Huntsville, we did far less sightseeing than we had done on our trip out to California.
Huntsville had grown considerably during the three years we had been gone, but few changes had occurred with respect to my friends with whom I had worked and with others in the community. I had made
several business trips back to Huntsville while we were living in California, so I was no stranger.
My first task was to open the new organization using rental space while a new facility was being constructed at the Research Park. The facility was named the Lockheed Huntsville Research and Engineering
Center, called HREC for short. As a nucleus, some people selected by me were transferred from the Lockheed
Sunnyvale facility to my new organization at Huntsville. There were a few scientist and engineers, and some
others to serve as administrative personnel. Research contracts were very competitive, and we recruited nationally for the additional technical personnel we needed. Although our work product was mostly technical
reports and computer programs, we also developed prototypes of electronic equipment. Over a period of a
few years, we developed a national reputation for aerospace research and engineering work in essentially all
of the aerospace technical disciplines. It was tremendously interesting work, and I served as the Director until
my retirement on July 1, 1980. Whereas I had previously worried about advancement opportunity, I felt that
the opportunity to continue in that position was sufficient. There were always new challenges, both technical
and administrative. Forty-one years after I established it, the Lockheed Huntsville facility is still in operation,
although the present emphasis is in larger projects rather than many smaller research contracts.
In 1971, our oldest daughter, Sue, after having graduated from the University of Alabama in Huntsville with a degree in Art, married Jack Harden, a physicist with the Marshall Space Flight Center.
In 1972, our youngest daughter, Janis, married Larry Nall, then a biology student at the University of
South Alabama. Jan joined Larry in Mobile. With both daughters no longer at home, our home became a very
lonesome place.
Our granddaughter, Jennifer Nall was born
Our granddaughter, Jennifer Nall, was born in Mobile on April 27, 1973, shortly before Larry’s graduation. After his graduation, Larry, Jan, and baby Jennifer moved to the cabin we had built on Smith Lake, in
Walker County. They stayed there for the summer months before moving to Tallahassee, where Larry would
attend the University of Florida to earn an M.S. in Biology.
Life had been very good in Huntsville. We lived in a comfortable home that I designed and built on a
wooded lot in a new wooded development in Jones Valley. We had a houseboat, which we kept in a marina
on Guntersville Lake, and we had our 16-foot runabout, River Flivver, that we could tow to various places.
We had also built a nice cottage with a dock and boathouse on beautiful Smith Lake about a 50 minute drive
from Huntsville. Until our kids married and left home, we had family vacations each year at Panama City
Beach. Florida. We also had a vacation trailer, and later a motor home. In addition, we had a 400 farm in
Tennessee, where I could hike in beautiful woods and hunt rabbits and squirrels. In our home, I had a good
photographic dark room, a large room that contained my electronic lab, my amateur radio station, and my gun
and Indian artifact collections. I was active in the local chapter of the Alabama Archaeological Society, and
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was a member, and sometimes officer, of several local and national professional societies. I also served on the
Advisory Board of the University of Alabama. The only thing missing was sufficient free time to do the
things I wanted most to do, and had been putting off from year to year.
Much to my dissatisfaction,