Monday, August 1, 2011

SIGNAL SCHOOL ST. HYACINTHE, 1943

On arriving in St. Hyacinthe, Mouland and I reported to the barracks and discovered that our course was not commencing until 16 August.  We immediately put in requests for leave, which was subsequently granted after a great deal of running around.  The next day we left for our homes.
            I caught the train to Montreal, but missed the connecting one to Saint John.  This meant staying overnight in the big metropolis.  However, I remembered that one of the boys in Skeena, coder Gerry Byron, had asked me to say hello to his folks in Montreal.  I telephoned his home and was immediately invited to stay the night.  As I was unfamiliar with Montreal streets Gerry’s pretty sister, Maureen, came downtown to meet me, and soon I was enjoying the warm friendliness of her home and family.  Reluctantly I caught the train to Saint John the following day.
            After nine days of leave I returned to St. Hy, or as it was officially known:  HMCS St. Hyacinthe.

            The St. Hy Signal School took its illustrious name from the city of St. Hyacinthe which in turn took its name from Hyacinthe Simon Delorme who, in 1753, purchased the seigniory granted five years earlier to Pierre Francois de Rigaud, Sieur de Vaudreuil.  The school was situated near the Yamska River, 37 miles south of Sorel, and 34 miles east of Montreal.
            The school at this location was new to me.  Its war-time history began in 1941 when it was found necessary to increase the capacity of the signal school (formerly at the Exhibition Grounds in Halifax) from 800 to 2,600 men.  No suitable accommodation could be found in Eastern Canada, but a cluster of buildings of Militia Training Centre No. 46 were found available in St. Hyacinthe.  It was deemed more economical to add to the existing St. Hyacinthe plant than to build afresh in a new place, so this site was chosen.  On 1 October 1941, the new signal school was commissioned as HMCS St. Hyacinthe under the command of commander A.P. Musgrave, RCN, the former commander at the Halifax Exhibition Grounds signal school.
            Commander Musgrave was not a signals specialist himself, but he gave the school energetic and efficient administration.  His career began when he joined the RCN as a cadet in 1914.  He was occupied with civilian life from 1920 to September 1939 when he rejoined the RCN as a Lieutenant.  In September 1940 he was appointed to the signal school in Halifax, and in 1941 moved with it to St. Hyacinthe.  Later he was promoted to Acting Captain on 15 June 1943.  During his lengthy stay, which eventually ended 20 February 1946, Captain Musgrave gained the respect and admiration of all naval communicators for his unceasing efforts on their behalf.  After some further post war service, he took up his retirement in Vancouver, BC.
            After about a year, new and advanced courses were well under way at the St. Hy school.  Bearing the brunt in W/T instructions in these early days was a group of Royal Navy telegraphists, notably Chief Petty Officers:  Walter Dominey, William Dunn, Reg Carlyon, Leo Laurens, Edmund Hymas, William Gatenby, and Petty Officer Wilfred Hutchinson.
            I came across an old Signal Log, dated March 1943, a monthly newspaper published by the Signal School. One item proclaimed that heads turned in amazement when four smart Probationary Third Officers, WRCNS, joined the school. The four Wrens, D.W.M. Madgwick, M.H. Rutherford, F.M.E. Crozier and D.M.J. Lawson, were here for an Officers Long Signal Course.
            The Signal Log also listed three classes of graduating telegraphists. YW Class: J.W. Homer, A.R. Penny, F. Betz, F.E. Brownlee, L.C. Wilcox, W.A. Greggio, R.C. Kinchen, R. Laking, J.H. Laurie, O.V. McDonald, W.G. Martin, J.W. McNeish, J.L. Raine, and T.G. Thomson. Instructors of YW were PO Tel. Samuels and CPO Stone.
            YX Class:  I.B. Coleman, B.A. Dobbin, F.R. Hutchison, J.N. Cline, J.A. Hill, F.M. Hunter, F.R. Kelly, J.J. Lamey, J.J. Masterson, R.H. Milne, W.R. Thorpe, J.G. Wotherspoon, F.W. Wedley, W.A. Weekes, A.J. Weiler, M.O. Wiseman, M.C. Wyatt. Instructors were: PO Tel. Simpson and PO Tel. McNamara.
            YZ Class: E.J. Garneau, H.G. Bancroft, J.D. Miller, F.W. Blackburn, L. Carroll, D.W. Davidson, D.M. Dobbie, E.C.B. Gibb, B.J. Miller, R.A. Murray, F.J. Saddy, and S. Scura. The instructors were: PO Tel. Wilkinson and PO Tel. Huston. Certainly a lot of sparkers for the fleet.

Ours was a W/T 3 course and our class was designated 3’QC.  In it were 23 Telegraphists:  Mooney, MacElveny, Hay, Brendle, Gorman, O’Hara, Webber, Bolding, Howe, Allen, Mouland, W. Cooper, R. Cooper, Watts, Gregory, Day, Robinson, Proulx, Bunton, Jukes, Cushner, myself, and John Sillers (who was destined to go down with the frigate Valleyfield).
            We lived and were taught in drab tar-papered huts.  In the summer months they were barely comfortable.  The colder months, however, brought the reluctant but necessary stoking of the fires in the old pot-bellied stoves in the centre of the huts.
            During the warmer days the men in the establishment wore khaki shirts and shorts until late in September.  For going ashore, whites were the rig of the day until the end of August, when we switched to blues.
            Our course was ten weeks long.  A daily routine saw us up at 0630, and to classes at 0815.  Then, seated at long wooden tables and matching benches, we received instructions in Technical training, Organization, Procedure, Coding, and Morse Transmitting/Receiving. 
            Secure came at 1700, but not necessarily the end of work.  I spent most of the evenings drawing books from the Confidential Books office and sedulously studying in one of the classrooms.  Then, of course, there was duty watch.  For example, one might find himself standing lonely picket duty in the darkness on the fringe of the camp where the wind rustled eerily through the gaunt frames of new buildings under construction.  After this chore, a warm bun was always welcome.
            Sometimes I took time off to do some dhobeying, write a few letters, or see a movie. Thursday night was “Navy Night” at the Maska theatre in town, with general admission at twenty-five cents.  Every third weekend we went into Montreal.
            One evening some of us, in a joyfully singing mood, were taken in canvas covered trucks into the city of Montreal.  There, without much ceremony, we were deposited at a local theatre to see the “Meet the Navy” stage review.  This fabulous show had opened in Toronto at the Victoria Theatre, playing there from the 4th of September to the 11th.  It featured such stars as Alan Lund, Blanche Harris, Oscar Natzke, John Pratt, Robert Goodier, Victor Feldbrill, and Lou Hurst in a combination of singing, dancing, and comedy.  However, I did not see the show on this occasion because I stole off to visit my friend Maureen for the evening.  Later in Newfoundland, I was to see the show and I was positively thrilled, especially with the superb dancing of Alan Lund and Blanche Harris, the singing of basso Oscar Natzke, and the hilarious song, “You’ll Get Used To It”, done by John Pratt.

            On 27 August, while we progressed in our wireless course, on the other side of the Atlantic the Canadian destroyer Athabaskan (Capt. G.R. Miles) was hit with a glider bomb from a Dornier aircraft.  Five men were killed and a dozen were wounded.  Telegraphist Charles (Chuck) Kent, on duty on the bridge during the attack, lost both of his legs and was operated on by the Medical Officer.  Chuck survived the war and many years of peacetime; however, he died in 1970 and was buried at sea from HMCS Fraser.

            In late September, out on the Newfy-Derry run, the war erupted with new violence when the Germans won their laurels with the new acoustic torpedo that was called the Wren or Gnat by the Allies, but T-5 or Zaunkonig by the Germans.  Bearing the brunt of the attacks were two convoys: ONS18 (27 ships) escorted by the B3 British group, and ON202 (38 ships) escorted by the C2 Canadian group comprised of the destroyer Gatineau (Cdr. P.W. Burnett, RN), corvettes Drumheller (Lt.Cdr. A.H. Storrs), Kamloops, (Lt. D.M. Stewart), Polyanthus (RN), and RN frigates Icarus and Lagan.

When U-boats from the Leuthen group began closing in on ONS18 and ON202 the Canadian group, EG9, was arrested from its patrol to the Bay of Biscay and ordered to support the threatened convoys.  EG9 consisted of the destroyer St. Croix (Lt.Cdr. A.H. Dobson), the RN frigate Itchen, and the corvettes Chambly (Lt.Cdr. A.F. Pickard), Morden (Lt. E.C. Smith) and Sackville (Lt.Cdr. A.H. Rankin).

Early on 20 September Lagan became the first ship to be hit by an acoustic torpedo. It was hit by U-270 (KL Paul-Friedrich Otto).  However, the frigate was towed to port, never to fight again.  Then, the same day, U-305 (KL Rudolf Bahr), sunk St. Croix with two torpedoes in the approximate position of 57 30N 31 10W.
Telegraphists lost in the St. Croix sinking were: J.G. Denneny, age 19; J.H. Good, age 21; W.A. Greggio, age 22; R.F. Lillyman, age 21; J.O. Meloche, age 19; T.D. Mossey, age 19; R.C. Rigby, age 28; Ldg.Tel. J.S. Newhouse, age 23; and PO Tel Frank A. Russ, age 25;  The PO Tel had received a Mention in Despatches for his fine work in Saguenay, following the torpedoing of that destroyer on 1 December 1940.  The destroyer had 21 fatal casualties, but made it back to port and repairs.  Frank was later serving ashore and requested a return to sea duty.  He was drafted to St. Croix, and the trip to sea was his first and final one in the old four-stacker.

Other ships felt the acoustic torpedo’s murderous effect. The next escort to go was HMS Polyanthus, and she was sunk by U-952 (KL Oskar Curio). Survivors of St. Croix and Polyanthus were picked up by the RN frigate Itchen. Two days later the loss of life was compounded when Itchen herself was torpedoed by U-666 (KL Herbert Engel).   The survivors of this last sinking only numbered three: two from Itchen, and one from St. Croix.

U-305, the killer of St. Croix, finally met its fate on 17 January 1944.  After sinking the RN frigate Tweed earlier that month, U-305 was sent to the bottom southwest of Ireland by HMS Wanderer and HMS Glenarm, taking with it all hands.

During this action of ONS18/ON202 in which six merchant ships were also sunk, the corvettes Chambly and Morden both had T-5’s explode in their wakes. At the time Coders Bill Sloan, Etobicoke ON, and Ross Somerville, Hamilton ON, were both serving in Morden.  Bill remembers his corvette picking up survivors from a torpedoed Liberty ship. Bill also remembers that when Itchen exploded she showered Morden with debris. Bill picked up a piece of half-inch thick steel about the size of the palm of his hand. The piece was confiscated by an officer of his ship.  After the war Bill read an historian’s account of the action and felt the historian more or less accused Itchen of deserting St. Croix survivors and Morden of doing the same to the survivors of Itchen. Bill had these words to offer the historian: “You should have been there!”

            In the middle of October ‘43 our class commenced the final examinations during which both a written paper and a practical exam were given on all subjects.  On 17 October we completed our last exam and then were given a long week-end off.  This provided me with two days home.
            On returning Monday morning I learned that eleven men had passed the course exam successfully; I was indeed happy to hear that I was one of them.  On Monday evening we said good-bye to St. Hy and joined a draft of other Tels and Sigs on draft to Halifax.  We had a railway car all for ourselves.  Later, passing through Moncton, I phoned home the news.
            We arrived in Halifax about 2330 and obtained beds at the Knights of Columbus Hut near the station.  Next day we reported to Stadacona and started our barrack routine.
            I was billeted in “C” block in the old Wellington Barracks.  It was like a barn, so I usually slept downtown at the “Y”.  Getting our meals in the barracks was now fast and efficient:  the men filed along, filling their trays with soup, dinner, and duff.  I had only one valid complaint about the meals; the tea seemed to be nothing but water and sugar - and I detested sugar in my tea.

            On 21 October, Chedabucto (Lt. J.H. Davies) was in collision with the cable ship Lord Kelvin in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.  The minesweeper was later beached and became a total loss.

            Each day in Halifax I reported to the Dockyard Signal Training Centre (STC) and wondered what sort of draft I would get.  There was nothing much to do but wait for our names to be piped for a draft to some ship.  Ostensibly we were supposed to be studying, but we had had enough of that at St. Hyacinthe.
            There were a few buzzes about drafts for us.  Eventually, however, Allen got the first draft:  to the corvette Mayflower at Baltimore.  Mooney was next, to the destroyer Niagara.  O’Hara went to the Prince Rupert, Hay to the Buxton, and Brendle to the Provider.  A shore job was offered to the Trained Operators; Robinson accepted it and went to the wireless station at Albro Lake.
            On a Monday afternoon, a week after our arrival in Halifax, my turn came.  We were preparing to march out of the Dockyard, when a Petty Officer came out of the STC with some pink draft notes.  My name was on the first one read; I was thrilled to learn that I was drafted to Givenchy manning barracks at Esquimalt on the West Coast, to bring a new frigate round to the Atlantic.
            Next day I was scudding around doing barrack routine.  This time I had one unexpected surprise.  During the medical portion I was the recipient of not one, but two needles - after which I almost passed out.  Needles never bothered me before, so I was rather startled.
            That same day I watched a large draft of approximately 900 sailors march away, accompanied by two bands.  They were on draft overseas to Niobe, the Canadian Naval barracks near Greenock, Scotland.
            Seven days stop-over leave had been granted to me, so I left Halifax by train the following afternoon, Wednesday.  At Moncton I transferred to a bus and arrived in Saint John about two o’clock in the morning, feeling in good spirits.

            At sea on 20 November, while in support of the combined convoys of SL139 from Sierra Leone and MKS30 from Gibraltar, the British frigate Nene and the Canadian corvettes Snowberry (Lt.Cdr. J.A. Dunn) and Calgary (Lt.Cdr. H.K. Hill) teamed up to depth charge U-536 to the surface, and then finished it off with gunfire.  It was while attacking this same convoy that U-211, sinker of Esso Williamsburg, was destroyed by a Wellington bomber.

            Under way again and heading west, the stop in Moncton gave me the opportunity to visit Mary McGovern, a W.D. at No. 8 RCAF Depot.  Mary was the sister of Joe McGovern, a close Saint John pal of mine.
            Back on the train I met Ray MacDonald, a sparker drafted to the same frigate as I was.  In Montreal Ray and I found a mix-up in our train tickets, so we had to continue our travel by CN when we had expected to go by CP Railway the rest of the way west.  However, from this point on we were provided with the unaccustomed luxury of berths.
            I enjoyed the trip west, especially the unfolding panorama of snow-covered Ontario with its newly frozen lakes; then the sweeping great prairies, and the breathtaking snow-capped Rocky Mountains.  At Jasper we met Leslie Sweeney, another sparker for the new frigate.
            In Vancouver we parted company with Leslie, who planned to stop over.  Ray and I joined up with some other Givency-bound lads, and remained only a few hours in the big city; then, at midnight left for Victoria by ferry.  On arriving in the morning we reported to the barracks at Esquimalt and immediately commenced the barrack In routine.
            Each day after that I was employed on instructional duties at the Signal Training Centre, in a civilian-type house not far from the barrack blocks.  Finally on 3 December, I was drafted to the new ship, the frigate Wentworth.

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