MY SMALL WAR. SUEZ CANAL 1956
In August 1956 I received a 'draft chit'. I had no prior warning, what we called a 'pier head jump', and before I had time to make any arrangements I was off to South Wales to commission a ship. With my past experience in the Med, on board L.C.T. 4040, I was to help bring out of mothballs another Landing Craft, the 4064. We arrived in Llanelli, easier to spell than to say!! In the harbour was the 4064, moored between two buoys.
All the equipment, doors, portholes, any access from the outside, were completely covered with a thick waterproof material, as hard as leather. Apparently to make the ship airtight and to keep any infestation from entering. It seemed like a thick Tar Paper painted silver. What a job it was to cut into it to gain access to the interior of the ship. I believe that she had been cocooned just after the war; there was little need for Landing Craft in the peacetime Navy.
We didn't know why we were bringing this ship back into commission, but we had an idea that the crisis in the Canal Zone might have something to do with it. Cleaning her up was probably the dirtiest job I have ever been involved in. Once we had cut our way into the ship we found that everything had been covered with a thick coat of black grease, to stop everything rusting. We had been given a week to bring her back into commission. How the Engineers and Electrical departments got all the machinery working, I don't know. But a week later we sailed her out of Llanelli and took her to Devonport to store ship. Once we had taken on board all the materials needed to fight a ship we sailed for the Med. We were still trying to clean the ship as we entered the Med. My experience came in handy; I was able to help my mates with the particular peculiarities of handling a Landing Craft. The securing of the Bow doors, prior to heavy weather, was a difficult task in itself. The bracing bars and Bottle -screw bolts were enormous, there was a knack in fixing them in place. You didn't want the Bow doors to spring open in a force 10 gale. For the first time in my career I didn't have to sleep in a Hammock. The living accommodation had bunks for the crew. How luxurious for us. Mind you, with the Ship being flat bottomed, it might have been more comfortable if we were sleeping in our hammocks. In any sort of sea, apart from a mill pond, these boats rolled all over the place. Skirting the Bay of Biscay was a bit bumpy, but as we got further south the weather improved and the ship became more stable. It seemed strange going back into the Med. It was only just over 12 months since I had left. Having left a fiancé at home I was feeling a bit down. Nothing seemed to go my way. As most Sailors do I put these thoughts behind me and concentrated on the job in hand. Get it over and go home.
In mid August we arrived in Malta, which was to be our base. Back to my old haunts. Our berth was in a creek off Grand Harbour. What a difference it was this time. The strict routines of life on a Cruiser gave way to the relaxed atmosphere of 'Small Ships'. Mind you being in Grand Harbour meant that we were under the watchful eye of the 'Big Ships' who inhabited the main Harbour. We soon began our training, what we call our 'work-up'. To bring our Ship to it's maximum peak of efficiency, both in Seamanship and Fighting. We carried a small boat on the stern deck. A Dory. It was powered by an outboard engine. In it we would pop along to the Fleet Mail Office to pick up our letters from home etc. On our first trip across Grand Harbour my mate 'Ginger' and I decided to show off a bit and let the big ships see what we had. So on full power we raced out of our basin and headed across. As we put power on up went the Bow and off we went. I am a bit of a fatalist and have always believed that our fate is mapped out for us. Half way across Grand Harbour, not being to sure of the way, we turned a little to Starboard to get a better look, and as we turned we missed hitting a massive Mooring Buoy by about 2 feet. If we had not turned the boat would have been wrecked and doubtless we would have been seriously injured, if not killed. As you can imagine from then on we tended to keep the speed down so that we could always see where we were going. That's what happens when you show off!!
We travelled around the Eastern Med calling at out of the way small islands practicing putting the Ship up on a beach to unload. We lost count of the number of times we opened bow doors and put the ramp down. But we did get it down to a fine art. We all learnt exactly where we were supposed to be, and what we had to do when we got there. We drastically cut down the time it took us to close up at 'Action Stations.' The sound of that Alarm going off really set the adrenaline rushing. You never got used to it going off, which it did, at any time of the day or night. My Action Station was on the bows of the boat, manning the 20mm Oerlikon. A quick firing gun. My job was to fire the gun. I was strapped into a harness attached to the gun, so that wherever I was the gun was. So by rotating around a small platform I controlled the lateral movement, then, by bending or straightening my knees, the gun would go up and down. Once strapped in I wasn't going anywhere. My only protection was two metal plates either side of the barrel. On top of the gun was a large circular drum which held the ammunition, about 50 rounds I think. High explosive interspersed with tracer, so that (a) I could see where the bullets were going, (b) to disturb the target, no-one likes to see the bullets coming. You tend to duck. I had lots of practice sinking lots of large oil drums. A bit more difficult practicing shooting at pretend aircraft though. All we could do was float up a few weather balloons for me to bang away at. History says that all this activity during the summer and autumn of 1956 was for an unspecified reason. We had a very good idea what it was all about. You don't bring a Fleet of Landing Craft out of reserve, where they had laid for 11 years, for no other reason that you were about to invade someone, and the only candidate we could see was Egypt, where Gamal Abdel Nasser had Nationalised the Suez Canal. Our training led us to the only conclusion; we were going to take the Canal back.
A funny thing happened on this voyage. I have previously mentioned about steering a Landing Craft, how by looking out of the Porthole in front of the helmsman you could see the ship in front and follow it. Well, one night I was the helmsman on duty in the Wheelhouse. In the early hours of the morning, whilst following the stern light of the ship in front, I had a momentary lapse of concentration. I was probably lighting a cigarette or chatting. Anyway on glancing back out of the Porthole I could see nothing. The light had disappeared. I steered a little bit too Starboard, nothing. So I then steered a bit to Port, still nothing. Realising that I couldn't go wandering from side to side for long I had to make a decision and turn one way, hoping that I chose the right way to bring me back on course. All the time I was awaiting the voice of the Officer of the Watch who stood on the open bridge above my head. But no sound came. So with the wheel held to starboard I started to turn the ship, 5 degrees, nothing, 10 degrees, nothing. I was now in for the full trip, 360 degrees!!! Thank goodness we were the last in line and not liable to hit anyone on our way around. Around we went until at last the stern light of the ship in front came into view. I could now breathe again. If I had gone to Port I would have been back on course in seconds. !!! Settling on the new course I steadied my beating heart and began to relax. As it had been a nice calm sea that night the movement of the ship hadn't been to bad, she didn't roll very much at all. Got away with that, I thought to myself. A voice came down from the bridge... "Who is on the Wheel"? Came the voice of the Officer of the Watch. "Able Seaman Grantham," says I. "Try and keep her a bit steadier," said the voice from above my head. "Increase revolutions, we seem to have dropped behind a bit". "Aye Aye Sir "I replied, thinking to myself, how on earth did he not realise what had happened. I HAD got away with it!! He must have dropped off for the few minutes that it took me to turn the ship around. Or, more likely, was stuck in a book. The rest of my watch I wasn't even an inch off course.
We were always happy when we met up with any of our Ships. It gave us the chance to receive and to send off mail a very important part of our lives. Also the first time that a lot of us have come across the 'Black pencil' of the dreaded 'censor'. Apart from him deleting any reference to what we were up to, he also had access to the most intimate of our thoughts that we put into our letters to our loved ones. So they became rather tame and lacked romance. I hoped that the wives and girlfriends realised what was happening and not thought that our ardour was any less!! We also had the chance of exchanging any films that we had. Always a vital part of the morale of the crew, the film shows was always well attended. I had been trained up, in Malta, to operate the 8mm film projector. So I watched all the films, over and over again. I never became bored though. I have always been a film addict. How the time flew when watching films. The favourite of everyone was 'Tom and Jerry', all the crew loved them. There were always some ribald comments flying around during the showing. The bartering that went on between ships for the best films was fierce. Two Abbott and Costello films for one 'Road' film. If you wanted the latest blockbuster even tots of rum changed hands. Quite illegal, but a blind eye was turned when anything as serious as a new film was concerned. You should have heard the language if the film was to break down. My parentage was called into question many a time. I soon became adept in a quick repair, to save my skin. The first signals sent between ships, on meeting, was always "What films have you got to swap"? Followed by "Have you got any of our mail"?
Whilst in Malta we had befriended our own 'Dghaisa' man. A Dghaisa being the local small boat used for taking people around the harbour. It had long oars that were pushed by the rower; it looked different but was very effective. He used to take us on our trips ashore. At sixpence a head he would take us across Grand Harbour and drop us off by the 'Barracca' Lift, for a trip into Valetta. It was a hairy trip in itself, this lift. It went up the face of the cliff up to the 'Barracca Gardens', a short walk into town. It was old and decrepit, it rattled its way up, threatening at any moment to break down and plummet to the bottom. It never did though. It was always a relief to arrive safely at the top. It was a long way to town if you didn't use it. Anyway, our Dghaisa man 'Spiro' decided that when we left Malta he would come with us as our private ferryman. We did, eventually, have him and his boat onboard. More about him later.
We had a Midshipman on board, a pleasant young man. He once played Rugby for Scotland. (You can tell by now that I have a very poor memory for names, especially after 50 years. I can remember events but not names!!! Maybe it's because we didn't spend all that long together.) He was the sort of chap you could talk to. One day I decided to have a bit of fun at his expense. He mentioned that I had the same name as the 'C in C' Med. Fleet. Admiral Sir Guy Grantham. "Yes" I said." He's some distant relative; we never have anything to do with his side of the family". Our Mid. looked quite impressed. The smile was wiped off my face the next day. The Mid. Stopped me and told me that he had been to dinner with the C in C's family the previous night, and mentioned me to my "Uncle", who seemed quite surprised and expressed an interest in meeting me. How I talked my way out of that hole I can't remember, but it taught me a lesson. Do a little research before telling tall stories. They have a habit of biting back.
The weeks of training went swiftly by and one day we sailed from Malta for the final time. We had embarked a load of wagons, for the want of a better word. They were full of Communications equipment, the men to operate them also came on board. It meant that we were a bit crowded down on the mess deck but we managed. . We weren't just off on another training cruise. Around this time a signal was received from the Admiralty stating that we had been given a name. The 4064 became ''H.M.S. Sallyport.'' It seemed to us that we now had a proper ship. We were no longer just a number. I wonder why, at this particular time, were we given names? Maybe it was a morale builder. Anyway all the Landing Craft could now call themselves by name. Off we sailed towards the Eastern Med, again. But this time we didn't stop. Operation 'Musketeer' was underway.
On Bonfire night, the 5th November, we were in the vicinity of Port Said. It was pitch black that night, and we had been told to get as much rest as we could, as we had a busy day ahead of us. What an understatement that turned out to be. Where the rest of the Fleet were I had no way of knowing. All I know is that we spent the night off shore cruising up and down. The tension I was feeling I had never come across before, apart from the earthquake at Zante, that had been quite traumatic. We didn't get a lot of sleep that night. The lack of experience at this type of Action meant that our imaginations were running riot. Was this how our predecessors had felt before they took part in D day? I began to realise what being in the Royal Navy meant. It wasn't just for pleasant cruises showing the Flag. We had to occasionally show our teeth. Would we be up to the job? We were soon to find out. It was at this time that our private 'Dghaisa' man decided that this sort of adventure was not for him, he asked to be dropped off? Where he thought we could drop him off I don't know, but he wasn't going anywhere just yet. He went down below moaning and didn't come back on deck again until a few days later when we transferred him to a ship returning to Malta. At least he tried. I think that too many memories of the last war unnerved him.
We went to Action Stations a couple of hours before dawn. We had had something to eat a bit earlier, not that we felt much like eating. I was up on the Fo'cstle, strapped into my gun, the ammunition drum was in place, and the loading number was ready with the next full one. All set to create mayhem!! Then the Bombardment began. The British and French ships opened fire on Port Said. We had no idea what the Army and R.A.F. were doing; our world was around our small landing craft. We could see fires breaking out all around the Port, the Oil tanks just at the start of the canal went up. What a sight that was. I shall try and explain what I thought was going on. It will be with the benefit of hindsight as well. The significance of our being loaded with Communications Wagons became obvious to us. As dawn broke we sailed into Port Said Harbour behind some Minesweepers. They swept a channel into the harbour, in case there were mines laid. We were the first Landing Craft in. The first thing that we saw was the masts and funnels of ships that had been sunk in the Harbour and the entrance to the Canal. I was to learn that there were 40 of them. They precluded any normal ship from passing through the harbour to the Canal. Of course as we had a flat bottom we were able to negotiate the 'block ships' without endangering ourselves with collisions. As I was still strapped into my gun, I had a bird's eye view of the entire goings on. The bombardment must have been very successful for not a single shot was fired at us. So I didn't have the opportunity to show my undoubted skill at firing my gun!! But I wasn't to know that when we went in. I was as scared as anyone else. Such destruction that surrounded us. On all sides fires were burning, oil tanks blazing and a pall of smoke all around. We quickly passed through the harbour to the Canal itself and our first off loading. The Communications Wagons were put ashore with their operators; we then went back into Port Said Harbour. By this time the larger Landing Ships had entered and the first of the Merchant Ships carrying supplies and ammunition. Our main task then began, our job was to take on supplies from these ships, sail through the block ships, down the canal and off load. We were to supply the Army units as they moved down the canal. It was a non-stop job of work. We would sleep eat and clean between off loading and re-loading. It didn't matter what time of day or night it was. We slept wherever we had finished working, and only woke in time to slip and go on to the next task. The whole episode only lasted a few days before a cease fire was announced. What a waste of life it was. Having gotten so far down the canal, a few days more and we would have complete control again and it would have been a different story. The Americans had let us down badly. Without their support we had no chance with the United Nations.
One memory sticks in my mind. The first night that we were there we anchored in Port Said harbour. We had to have sentries forward and aft in case we were attacked. On this occasion I got the middle watch and was up on the foc'stle with my trusty Lee Enfield .303 rifle. The only trouble was that we weren't allowed the ammunition. If we needed any we were to call the Officer of the Watch on the bridge! He would then distribute it to us. What we were supposed to do in an emergency I hate to think? What sort of Navy were we in? Mind you a matelot with a loaded weapon is something to steer clear of. We read too many westerns.
We cooled our heels for a while. Tied up near the Customs warehouses. We watched some of our forces break into a few warehouses and help themselves to a few trinkets. By the time we thought about trying our luck an armed sentry was placed with orders to shoot looters. I had visions of repatriating a lovely power boat and taking it away in our tank deck, the Skipper had different ideas. The one thing that we did take away were some large wooden crates with what appeared to be Russian writing stencilled on them. We believe that they were spare M.I.G. fighter engines that had been given to the Egyptians by the Russians. Quite a valuable prize for our side.
One bizarre thing happened to us. We were tied up alongside the canal, just down from us was a 'lighter' used for off loading ships in the Port. We went up to it to see if had any cargo, as we arrived the body of an Egyptian sailor floated to the surface of the canal, a rope around his neck, attaching him to the 'lighter'. This was the one and only casualty that I saw during the whole conflict. How he came to be there I cannot imagine. This incident brought home to us the truth of warfare. It was not a game.
With the Packing cases embarked we were sent on our way. First back to Malta, then back home to the U.K. in time for Christmas. Our last look at Port Said showed us an almost derelict city, still smoking in places.
One memory that still lingers is that within a few days of the cease fire the 'Bum Boats' started to arrive back trying to do business. It was as though nothing had happened? I cannot say that the Egyptian is one of my favourite people.
We arrived home on 14th December and off loaded our Secret packing cases. It took some while to settle back into a normal routine after our adventure in Egypt. On one occasion it was brought home to us how our training had brought us to an automatic response re-action. I was up on the Bridge one day, cleaning the brass work, whilst I was cleaning the Action Alarm button I accidentally pressed it and the Action Stations Alarm went off. Within a couple of minutes the ships company were all rushing to their Action Stations. One poor chap cracked his head dashing up a ladder. You can imagine what they all thought of me. I went and hid myself in a corner for a while, to let them get over the shock. But it did prove that training worked!! I wasn't the most popular chap onboard for quite a while. I cannot remember anything of note that happened in the rest of my time on the 'Sallyport'. We carried on our daily routines as we always have, time flew. and life was good. I stayed on 'Sallyport' until February 1957.
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