HMAS MILDURA - Life on Board a Corvette
HMAS MILDURA Association.
More stories of life on board HMAS MILDURA
 |
Recollections of Gavin Sandford-Morgan
When a ship "refits" and is in dockyard hands for several weeks, there is usually the opportunity for shore leave to see the local sights. When the MILDURA docked in Fremantle in December 1944, Gavin Sandford-Morgan, a car buff from way back, saw the need for a set of wheels to maximize the opportunities.
"I suggested to my colleagues Williams and Millard that we should club together and buy an old cheap car in order to gain the necessary mobility. I'm not sure who else was involved but I remember that "Chip" Sawers, a former school fellow of Millard's and mine, also joined in a joint ownership syndicate. I then studied the local newspapers and in due course we acquired a 1926 Vauxhall 14/40 (known as the "Princeton", made in Luton, UK), a machine with which I was already familiar since I happened to have one as my first car. I think we paid either 20 or 25 pounds for it. I think it was registered but was never sure, but it did have a working battery, started promptly and ran reasonably well once all systems were primed and going."
"The vacuum tank was not operating, so to achieve progress we had to fill the tank at frequent intervals so it could perform its function by supplying the carburettor by gravity feed. This necessitated carrying various containers of the assorted liquids to which we all had to resort in those days of petrol rationing so that the vacuum tank could be topped up. Needless to say it usually ran out of petrol at the most inconvenient point, thus blocking what little traffic there was and necessitating the crew pushing it to the side of the road before commencing refuelling."
"Another peculiarity was that the lights didn't work so that when, as happened several times, we were pulled over by the police when travelling at night, we had a well rehearsed drill which involved much slapping of headlights, carefully studied puzzled looks when the lights didn't work, while another crew man would make a great play with a live wire which happened to live under the bonnet, zapping around with this and promising the police that we would have the lights working again shortly."
"The folding hood of the open tourer bodywork had a large split immediately over the front seat but since I don't think it ever rained while we had the car this was of no great importance. It did, however, facilitate one or more members of the crew standing on the seat while giving a Nazi salute and impersonating Hitler reviewing his troops."
"I remember that Mrs.Sanderson, a very king lady who had a large house in Cottesloe or Peppermint Grove was immensely hospitable to we young naval types, particularly if we came from South Australia, where her husband was a senior staff member in Elder Smith's. She virtually kept open house for us, so whenever we were able to we would call in and always be welcomed, given a meal or a drink, and generally find ourselves in the company of some of the local young ladies."
"Many a great party was held at Mrs.Sanderson's and understandably there were occasional complaints from the neighbours if we got too rowdy. Since the Vauxhall was not the quietest car, we were under strict instructions to arrive as slowly and quietly as possible. On one particular occasion we called in one evening after dark and as I negotiated the lightless Vauxhall through the gate alongside the fence, I misjudged the distance so that the end of the bumper bar encountered the corrugated iron fence, thus creating a good imitation of a machine gun. We were not popular that night."
"I can't remember what finally happened to the Vauxhall but I think I managed to sell it, no doubt at a loss, but it certainly served its purpose nobly and gave us a lot of enjoyment."
Because there weren't enough doctors to man all the ships in the RAN, the medical role in corvettes was carried out by the SBA or "Doc" to his shipmates. Other less polite sobriquets like "penis machinist" and "chancre mechanic" were not unknown. Below are the recollections of two former SBAs, Ken Green and Allen Prentice.
Recollections of Ken "Doc" Green (SBA HMAS MILDURA 1945-6)
"The SBA was often confronted with a range of minor calamities. I was confronted occasionally by blokes with fish hooks embedded in parts of their anatomy which entailed a painful extraction – cut off the eye, push until the barb emerged, then pull the shank through."
"My most worrying time was when “Bluey” Smyrell contracted pneumonia, a very serious disease of that time. The only treatment available that many years ago was almost identical with that for a common cold – not much good. “Bluey” was confined to a stretcher which a few of his mates and I carried daily to a shady and protected spot on the upper deck to receive the benefit of fresh air and breeze, then brought him back to the mess deck in the late afternoon. He was hospitalised when we eventually made port, (can’t for the life of me remember where) but by this time the crisis that went with pneumonia had passed, much to the relief of a certain SBA. Recovery was largely due to “Bluey” himself, a fighter, and it was good to see him when he rejoined the ship sometime later."
Des Mutton and Ken "Doc" Green"Another nerve wracking (to me) incident was during the trials after the refit at Fremantle – a call from the bridge to get down to the engine room to attend a casualty. “Bloody hell, how to get the poor bugger up top”, went through my mind. A flash of inspiration, the Neil Robertson stretcher (a sort of straight jacket), which my partner, Leading Steward “Mac” Maclean and I raced down the engine room steps to discover there was no casualty – it was a training exercise to check our alertness and ensure we knew what to do. Mac’s and my sighs of relief increased ship’s speed by two knots."
"An SBA’s life could be pretty easy. I learnt some of the radar basics from “Snowy” Moore and Jeff McFarlane gave me a couple of steering lessons which prompted a remark from the fo’cs’le, “Who’s on the wheel – a bloody officers cook?!” Deeply offended, I didn’t try that again. I also numbered up in the whaleboat crew."
"A vivid memory is that of the mine caught in the sweep and winched into the ship’s side. I visualized half the ship’s company killed or wounded by flying shrapnel, but George “Count” Wood saved us when he looked over the side, saw what had happened and in a calm state of panic, gesticulated frantically to the winch driver to let out the wire. I seem to remember the mine did explode."
Recollections of Allen "Doc" Prentice (SBA HMAS MILDURA, 1944)
"Sick bay in the MILDURA occupied an area of approximately 8 feet by 6 feet, which contained a Medical Cabinet equipped with the necessary medicaments and aids to care for the needy. In one corner, against the bulkhead, was a small workbench approximately 2 feet by 2 feet containing a small sterilizer. That was about it, except for four stretchers placed in various areas of the ship. The motor boat and whaler had waterproof sealed medical canisters. My position at action stations was outside the Captain's cabin directly under the bridge. I also had an assistant who posted aft. In time of action and casualties, you can imagine the difficulty one would encounter attending the injured. The Mess Deck tables would have to become your treatment platform."
"When you have a healthy crew under your care life can be easy. Sick Bay was available 24 hours a day, but a routine visit for medical attention was at 0800 each day. Treatments were mainly for skin conditions, middle ear infections, foreign bodies in the eye, burns, repeat dressings and the odd suture or two. Patients who you considered needing consultation with a Medical Officer or those requesting same were listed for sick parade when reaching a shore base. All shore visits and the MO's findings were reported to the Captain on returning aboard."
"On patrol duty somewhere in the Indian Ocean in October 1944, our Gunnery Officer Lieut. Reg Nolan decided gunnery practice was to be his order of the day. We had the two Oberlikon guns and the gunners, but the targets had to be provided by way of rockets. All concerned assembled at their post, including Signalman Allan Waugh and Leading Signalman Jackson positioned on the starboard wing of the bridge. They were responsible for discharging the rockets. Each rocket on reaching its altitude released a small parachute and the Gunnery Officer called on the gunners to engage target."
Signalman Allan Waugh"An urgent call for me to report to the bridge interrupted a paint job I was doing on the Medical Cabinet. On arriving on the bridge, Allan Waugh was prostrate on the deck, badly burnt from his lower legs to his feet. The red hot exhaust from a rocket taking off had ignited another rocket on the deck, which wedged itself into the bulkhead, and unfortunately for Allan, he was trapped in its path. Lieut. Sangster (No.1) offered his cabin bunk for Allan to be treated. With the usual treatment for burns Allan was given care and comfort plus a morphine injection."
The No.1's Cabin on the HMAS CASTLEMAINE"A signal was sent to LEEUWIN that we were returning to port and for an ambulance to be in attendance for hospitalization. This ran according to plan and if any one wants to know why Allan is not in the forecastle Ship's Company photo of Christmas 1944, he was skulking in hospital (Hollywood Military Hospital, Perth) for a few weeks."
© HMAS MILDURA ASSOCIATION Victoria Australia May 2, 2004
