More Combined Operations

Search and Destroy - the Jimmy

Almost every day our “River Flotilla” took part in expeditions transporting or supporting the Marines and Army. Wherever the insurgents showed up, the locals reported it and the Brits responded . Daily Orders had a rota of tasks for the craft and there was no shortage of volunteers from both sweepers. Many of these expeditions had a humorous twist, which Jack was not slow to exploit. Our ship’s cartoonist (who was also the Fresh Water Tanky) was kept busy. 

This particular raid involved one craft and about sixty Royal Marines. We sailed late in the afternoon. I do not recall the destination. In stoker’s navigational terms we turned left as we entered Brunei Bay and left again at the first river. It took us some three hours to reach our destination. I do not recall being frightened, but I must have checked the oil in the engines a thousand times as we sailed slowly up the river that night.

About midnight the Royal Marine officer in charge gave the order to shut down engines. On deck the Marines crouched motionless staring out in a moonless night at the darkness of the jungle.

The naval crew went below to the craft’s hold where we were to remain in complete darkness and silence until further notice. The four of us, Subby, myself, Able Seaman Booty, all from Fiskerton and an AB from Chawton tried to make ourselves comfortable in the hold. It transpired that we were to remain in the hold for a period of six hours. Every good captain looks after his crew, as was the case with J.J. Black. He had provided the Subby with a whisky bottle topped up with Pusser’s rum should the occasion arise such as the predicament we now found ourselves in. We sat in silence, taking a swig from the bottle now and then and listened to the water lapping against the hull of the craft. The only noise made was when Subby dropped the cap of the bottle . It did not make a loud noise but it caused the Royal Marine officer to poke his head down the hatch and order silence.

Our “pusser’s slumber” was shattered by gunfire from the upper deck. It was early morning and the sun practically blinded us as we reached the upper deck. All the Marines with the exception of one or two had left the craft. Gunfire was heard from within the jungle foliage. Crouching behind sandbags on the upper deck, with guns at the ready, we were instructed to keep down, await further orders and not to leave the craft.

We were berthed alongside a tree. The distance between the banks of the river was about fifty yards. After some time, probably about one hour, the gunfire and voices of command became more distant, giving the impression that the Royal Marines were advancing. It was decided that we should have our “K ration” breakfast, although at the same time keeping a good look out.

We relaxed in the sunshine, confident that the Marines had control of the situation. I sat with my back leaning against a 45-gallon drum of diesel oil eating my can of “something” when I felt a thud against the drum. I took no notice at the time but began to feel as if I was sweating in my shorts a few minutes later. I discovered that in fact I was sitting in a pool of diesel oil which was leaking from a bullet hole in the drum !

It was now mid-morning, the gunfire was very distant and peace descended on the jungle; bird and animal sounds could be heard again. This was suddenly shattered by something which scared the living daylights out of us all - the RAF had come to play their part in the activities. Some jet fighters came from nowhere  and zoomed at tree top level across the jungle. They kept up these scare tactics for about an hour.