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An autobiography of a Radio Officer in the British Merchant Navy during World War II
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"Fort Duquesne"
9/12/45 - 24/1/46.
On 8th December, 1945 I signed off the "Glenartney" and transferred my gear to the "Fort Duquesne". Surprisingly, my relief was pleased to see me. He and the entire crew of the "Fort Duquesne" had just been sent out from England to join the ship prior to her departure for Australia. He had no particular wish to go to Sydney and was delighted to get the chance to return to England on the "Glenartney".
The "Fort Duquesne" of 7220.44 gross tons, was, as the "Fort" part of her name indicated, a Liberty type of ship built in Canada. She was brand new and still being commissioned when I joined her.
The American "Liberty" and Canadian "Fort" ships were remarkable vessels in as much that they were the Allies response to the heavy loss of shipping due to the U-boats etc. Many parts of those ships, indeed in some instances, whole sections, were prefabricated away from the dockyard, and then brought together and assembled on the slipway. This mass-production ship building method aided by simplification of their design, brought about a huge reduction in the time it took to build a ship. Neither type of ship be it a "Liberty" or a "Fort" were in any way "beautiful" as far as appearances went, but they certainly served their purpose in as much that they could carry general cargo at a reasonable speed, were quick to build, reasonably cheap and did much vital work in carrying war cargoes around the world, particularly in the Atlantic.
I signed on the "Fort Duquesne" on 9th December and started to settle down aboard her. She was almost completely fitted out. There was only minor construction work going on, but there were a lot of stores coming aboard. The layout of this type of ship was quite different to that of a Blue Funnel vessel and the equipment too, was "foreign" to Blue Funnel gear. The workmanship was good, but because "Fort" and "Liberty" ships were expendable, they were nowhere near as robustly built as the ships on which I had previously served.
The Wireless Room was much larger. It was light and airy and fitted with grey steel cabinets and panels which concealed the equipment. She had steel work benches and desks instead of the more conventional wooden variety. Apart from the aerial leads, not a bit of brass or copper work in sight. Those copper aerial leads had been lacquered so that there was no polishing to be done. Three cheers for that - no more smelly fingers reeking of brass polish.
The equipment was of American design. Lots of it, and more powerful and sophisticated than the British gear. The main receiver was a joy and delight to use, especially on the shortwave bands. The transmitter too was superb with crystal gates to control the regularly used frequencies.
There always has to be a fly in the ointment though, as we soon found out. The equipment being much more complicated than anything I had seen before, had a great deal of internal wiring, all nicely bunched and harnessed together, as the wires ran hither and thither in the most inaccessible parts of the cabinets.
Anything new invariably has teething problems, so of course we had our share of minor faults. They were mostly of an intermittent nature and gave us a lot of trouble in locating them in those neatly bundled bunches of wires. Even Job the Comforter, he of infinite patience, might have done his block trying to figure out where the problems lay.
Gradually we got things sorted out, and stowed away our stores together with a really good tool set; soldering iron; multimeter; heaps of spare valves; condensers and resistors; plus enough stationery to set up a little shop. How different to the usual Blue Funnel economy, where you normally had just that little bit less than you needed.
The Surgeon sent for me. If I could be spared from my other duties, he would like to have my assistance in the Surgery. My Chief gave the OK and I stopped playing at being a ferret chasing elusive electrical rabbits in the labyrinth of wiring deep in the bowels of the equipment.
The Surgery was something to behold. Instead of the usual small cabin, fitted with a leather covered examination bench, desk, chair and glass fronted cupboard containing a few bottles of pills and tinctures, this Surgery was a full blown operating theatre. Brilliant lighting, stainless steel wherever you looked, non-skid seamless decking and smack in the middle of the room a most elaborate operating table.
I stood in the doorway absolutely amazed. "Come on Sparks - stop gawping and make yourself useful." The Surgeon was surrounded by packing cases and cartons of medical equipment and pharmaceuticals.
I got over the initial surprise and opened up a packing case. It was full of boxed or carefully wrapped Surgeon's requirements. Scalpels; knives; forceps; scissors; extractors; retractors; clamps; saws; drills etc, etc. I unpacked them while the Surgeon stowed them away into drawers and lockers. He arranged them so that the most likely needed gear was closest to hand. A full set of gynaecology instruments for use in dealing with difficult births, an unlikely event on a ship with an all male crew and no passengers, went into a remote corner along with hole saws and other paraphernalia used in trepanning and skulldiggery.
There were bedpans and urinals; kidney basins; dishes; bowls and trays; all in gleaming stainless steel. There were gowns; caps; face masks; rubber aprons and gloves. Needles and sutures; bandages; slings; adhesive tape and dressings galore. Enough drugs; potions; chemicals; elixirs; and embrocations to stock a chemist's shop. An autoclave; microscope; chemists balance; weighing machine; gas bottles and anaesthetic equipment. All this and more came out of the cases and cartons.
The Surgeon, a young man, who had just completed his qualifications was like Aladdin in a cave full of treasure. He could hardly believe that he had all those "toys" to play with. That theatre, he said was better fitted out than a lot of small hospitals he had seen. There was only one thing missing - a patient for him to operate upon.
It took a while to get all the cases unpacked and the contents checked off, but as soon as we had cleared the floor of all the clutter the Surgeon no longer required my services.
We sailed from Vancouver, headed south and travelled down to San Pedro, near Los Angeles. One night, probably New Year's Eve, a group of us went ashore to make merry. We settled down in a pub and had a few drinks.
There was a jukebox in one corner of the room which fascinated us, because, within reason, it could play any record that you cared to choose. How could that be? Well, you dropped your money in the slot and lifted a phone, spoke to an operator, stated your request and sure enough, within moments the music of your choice came through the loudspeakers. This wonder of modern technology was a novelty for us, and one of our party, a little the worse for his drinks, would insist on having a tune - "It's been a long, long, time" played repeatedly. This astonished the lady operator on the telephone, and probably annoyed the other patrons of the bar.
Somewhere along the line we got engaged in conversation with some American sailors. They stood us a round of drinks and we with much financial difficulty returned the compliment. We were all now flat broke and to have sufficient cash to cover that round, some our group had declined and made their previous drinks last longer.
The Yanks came up with another round of drinks before we realised what was going on. Oh dear, how could we possibly reciprocate? Well, we could not, and were about to confess to our lack of funds when our inebriated member got himself involved in a Poker Dice game with one of the Yanks, who was almost as unsteady on his feet as our bloke. Between them they decided that they would each throw the five dice - loser to pay for the next round of drinks! The rest of our group shuddered and took precautionary looks for the nearest exits.
The dice were thrown. Our man lost - but was not beaten - "Best of three" he said. The Yank accepted the amended terms. The dice were thrown again. The result came up, a win for us. Score, one all. The dice were thrown again, two one in our favour. What a relief. During that last round of drinks we made our excuses and farewells and got away without losing face or causing an unpleasant incident.
We sailed from San Pedro. Next stop Sydney. On the way, we R/Os were kept busy taking down very long messages about the forthcoming changes from wartime signalling to peace time procedures. Reams and reams of the stuff - there seemed to be no end to it.
Aboard the "Fort Duquesne" there were no Chinese in the crew. Instead, the stewards were Goanese and the deck and engine room hands were Lascars, most of whom were devout Mohammedans. Many of them had made the pilgrimage to Mecca and the hair on their temples was stained with henna to signify that the wearer had made the pilgrimage.
Each day at the appropriate hours, one of their number would approach the officer on watch and ask to be shown the direction in which Mecca lay, so that he and his fellow Mohammedans could bring out their prayer mats, face Mecca, recite their prayers and make the required obeisances.
Frequently, when the weather was favourable, the Mohammedans, would take their meals from their quarters and partake of them sitting on the hatches.
Now, an Infidel, such as myself, it he has to pass the diners, must take care least his or her shadow should fall upon a Mohammedan's plate of food. It that should happen, the Mohammedans considers his meal to be defiled and tosses it over the ship's side. Should there be no spare tucker, he will go hungry and may all the curses of Allah befall you. In any event, the shadow caster will be far from popular and at best will be on the receiving end of some mighty powerful invective.
I was down in the Library, changing books for those who required them when a middy came with a message. The Surgeon would like to see me in the Surgery as soon as I was available. "Nothing urgent?". "No, after you have closed up the Library will suit him fine."
I duly turned up at the Surgery to find the Surgeon busy selecting and setting up instruments. "Come in Sparks. Heard the news?" "What news?" "Some ship just sent a message - got a sailor with appendicitis. We are the nearest ship and have changed course and are heading for her. Should have the fellow on board in the morning. I want to show you how to administer the anaesthetic." "What? You're joking?" "No I'm not. One of the cooks who does all the butchery will assist me with the operation. A couple of stewards will pass me the "cutlery" and swabs. A middy will keep the score on what we use, and you will keep the guy quiet and still."
The Surgeon showed me how, if the weather was bad, we could strap the patient to the operating table and how the operating team could also be secured with additional straps. That part was straight forward enough. It was the next bit that I didn't fancy - giving the anaesthetic.
"Nothing to it," said Sawbones. "I will give him a needle that will knock him out, then we put this gauze mask over his nose and mouth and you will just sprinkle on a few drops from this bottle when I tell you, or if he starts to move or looks as though he is coming round. You must tell me if he changes colour, or his breathing and pulse rates alter. Got that?" "Er, sort of". "Good. Nothing to it really. We won't be using the complicated anaesthetic equipment. Too many things to control for the inexperienced. Let's strap that oxygen bottle and mask to the side of the table and have it ready for use."
That night at dinner, the old hands were full of tales of how they had heard of appendices being successfully removed by inexperienced people on dining room saloon tables, with no anaesthetics. Just lashings of rum. (For all concerned?). No surgical instruments, just knives ground down to size by the engineers and sharpened by the cook. Bent teaspoons were used as retractors, and needles borrowed from whoever had any were used to do the stitching with horsehair from a mattress.
Unlike the Surgeon, who was all systems go and full of enthusiasm for the coming event, I did not enjoy my dinner at all and was not looking forward to the morrow.
I need not have worried. By breakfast time the whole deal was off. No, the patient had not died, but a warship with greater speed than the "Fort Duquesne" could reach him quicker than we could, and had gone to his aid.
The Surgeon was most disappointed - all that wonderful equipment and he had just lost the chance to use it. Me? I just sighed with relief and had an extra helping at breakfast to make up for my poor effort at dinner.
Months later, long after I had left the ship, the Surgeon got his chance. One of the crew was smitten with appendicitis and the Surgeon undoubtedly saved his life by performing an excellent job on what turned out to be a most complex operation.
Shortly after we arrived in Sydney I signed off on 24th January, 1946. A whole year, plus a few days had elapsed since I had said "Goodbye" to my Dad when he had come to see me off on the "Glenartney".
The Mate gave me a farewell present. He decided it would be a good excuse to try out the ship's motor lifeboat, so he selected a Midshipman to be in charge of the boat, a Junior Engineer to attend to the engine and four Lascars to handle my baggage. They were to take and deliver me to my lodgings in Hunters Hill, and thereby save me the expense of a taxi fare.
I made my farewells and climbed down into the boat. We cast off, made our way up Sydney Harbour, past Goat Island and Greenwich Point and entered the Lane Cove River. Two miles upstream we tied up to the Alexandra Street Wharf and left the Engineer and one Lascar to mind the boat.
The rest of us made our way up the hill of Alexandra Street. We must have looked an unusual sight. I led the way for I knew our destination, three Lascars followed in single file, each with a piece of my luggage balanced on his head, while the Middy brought up the rear. We reached the house where I was going to reside without arousing too much curiosity.
No one was home, but I possessed a key and led the party into the house. My baggage was put down, and since the Lascars' religion forbade them to drink alcohol, I went into the kitchen and made tea for all hands. The two men looking after the lifeboat didn't miss out, for when the others returned the Middy took a couple of bottles of lemonade plus their share of cigarettes which I gave them for their trouble.
I shook hands all round and saw them off the premises. My life at sea was over and the excitement of living in Australia was about to begin.
THE END
With Grateful Thanks to the Author.