Lieutenant Harrison had a complete list of defects ready and repairs would be made to the ship while the new equipment was installed.[42] Trentonian went to the dockworkers on April 8[43] and remained in their care for the next twelve days.
During this time the entire crew was turned out to paint ship; the pristine and colourful paint scheme had worn off. Gone were the blues and greens of its bright camouflage, replaced with dirt, grime, and rust from months of hard work, salt water, and storms.
Ordinary Seaman Harold Salmon from Hamilton, Ontario, recalls that one of the leading seaman assigned him to climb to the top of the mast and paint the masthead. A friend of Salmon’s informed him that, as an ordinary seaman, climbing to the masthead was not permitted. Salmon promptly reminded the lead hand, who reluctantly rescinded the order and informed Salmon that “this would not be forgotten!”[44]
Trentonian had the newest radar installed while in for repairs. The new, Type 271Q, radar was more efficient and accurate than the one the ship had been using. The 271Q surface-warning radar worked on a ten-centimetre wavelength and was sensitive enough to allow the recognition of submarines at night and through dense fog. The radar performed a 360-degree sweep, with the ship located on the centre of the screen. Four more twenty-millimetre oerlikon guns were also installed; two on either side of the ship’s funnel and another two just behind the after gun tub. This greatly increased Trentonian’s anti-aircraft capabilities.
The crew wondered why the ship would need to fight aircraft on this side of the Atlantic, and rumours started in the messes as to where Trentonian was going next. These rumours were confirmed when, on April 18, new pay chits were issued to the crew for overseas duty.[45] Many assumed the ship was to join one of the ocean escort groups taking convoys from Canada to the United Kingdom.
That same day, Harrison wrote a letter to Miss Hazel Farley, updating Trenton.
I have sent two pictures of the ship’s company under separate cover, so hope you will like them. They were taken in a snowstorm but came out pretty well not-withstanding. If you would care for any more or if anyone else is interested please drop a note by return c/o F.M.O. Halifax and we may be able to do it. However if not we will endeavour to have them sent to you sometime. A picture of the ship is not forthcoming yet, maybe we will have one soon.
Chaplain Hutchison has been on board here a couple of times and we were very glad indeed to see him. We only wish more of you “Trentonians” could make it. We gave him a lot of information which he required, re. dates etc.
It was very good of you to take such trouble about our washing machine. I hope it comes through in time but I know that a lot red tape is involved.
Thanks very much indeed for all your good wishes and work on our behalf.[46]
The Trenton Courier Advocate reported the arrival of the photos on April 18 under the heading “Picture Of Ship’s Crew Gift To Trenton High School.” One of the photos Harrison had sent was reprinted in the paper with the caption, “From the first day pupils of Trenton High School learned that a Canadian corvette was being named after their town, they have taken a keen interest in the vessel and her crew and have worked hard to provide comforts for the officers and men.” The caption finishes with, “In appreciation of their efforts the school pupils recently received a fine picture of the crew.”[47] The second photo was presented to the city and is still displayed in the Quinte West City Hall and Public Library.
On April 20, at 1300, Trentonian proceeded to the gunnery area for tests.[48] Each gun fired sixty to 120 rounds and all aspects of the weapons were examined: the line of sight for clearances and obstructions; deflection in the decks from the force created by the energy of the weapon; and hazards to the gunner.[49]
During the gun trials, a few particularities were found. The starboard midship gun had the whaler in its line of site; the gunner would have to watch that he didn’t shoot up the ship’s boat. Both midship’s guns did not have a rigid safety rail; the gunners could break out over the side if they became too excited, and all four guns were crowded in their positions.[50]
Lieutenant Harrison suddenly granted shore leave to half the crew on April 22. The crew knew something was about to happen and rumours once again started making their way around the ship. Most believed they would join their sister corvettes working with the escort groups in Newfoundland.
One sailor returned to the ship bleeding from his arm. Radar Artificer Joe Gosskie, RCNVR, from Winnipeg, Manitoba, remembers the sailor was questioned by the officer-of-the-watch. He only replied it was a little cut and returned to his mess. When the sailor unwrapped his arm, his mates noticed that the wounds were considerably more serious than the little cut he had described. He refused to go to the tiffy, insisting that he did not want to be put ashore in hospital. He remained very evasive regarding the circumstance surrounding his horrible wounds.
When asked years later, the sailor revealed that he knew Trentonian was going overseas and was determined not to “die a virgin.” He went to a brothel in Halifax to “pop his cherry.” After paying his money and spending his time in the back room, he found to his dismay that he could not go through with it. With his time up, he was asked to leave. With great frustration, he smashed every store window with his fist on the way back to the ship.[51]
The crew members that had to stay with the ship were allowed to have guests aboard when not standing a watch. Able Seaman George Hayward of Montreal, Quebec, befriended a shore-based sailor and had him in for supper. Later, that same sailor would become his brother-in-law.[52]
Trentonian’s gunners testing the new oerlikons, which were fitted to increase the ship’s anti-aircraft defences.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
The morning of April 23 saw a flurry of activity around Trentonian. All further shore leave was cancelled, much to the disappointment of the men who had stood duty the night before. The stokers fired Trentonian’s boilers and made steam for the engines. Stores and supplies were loaded, ammunition checked for all the guns, depth charges, and hedgehog, magazines filled, and fuel taken on. At 1400 Trentonian slipped from the dock and left the harbour. The ship was joined by two sister corvettes that had been constructed around the same time and in the same manner as Trentonian. They were Louisburg (II) and Lindsay. Trentonian served as senior officer of the group.[53]
The ship was secured for sea and, once complete, Lt. Harrison called the crew together. Signalman Jack Harold remembers what the skipper told them, “We have our orders; we are going to England. That will be our new home. Take a good look boys, this will be the last we see Canada for some time.”[54]
Trentonian’s crew fell silent. Harrison provided a few words of strength, comfort, and caution, and wished them all good luck in the uncertain days ahead.[55]
As the coast of Nova Scotia disappeared behind them, Trentonian’s crew milled about on deck, quietly discussing what the future might involve. The younger sailors listened to the old salts describe what England was like and what they could expect.
Later that night, OS Harold Salmon recalled quietly discussing their future with another sailor when one said to the other, in a hushed voice, “We’re not going to bring the ship back, are we?”[56]
Trentonian in Halifax, April 1944, sporting a fresh coat of dark and light grey paint. New oerlikon guns were installed in the waist and stern. The ship’s pennant number had not been fully painted at the time of the photo so Bruce Keir added the “K” in ink.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
5: Say Goodbye to Canada
We have our orders; we are going to England. That will be our new home. Take a good look boys, this will be the last we see Canada for some time.
— Lt. W.E. Harrison, RCNVR, Commanding Officer, HMCS Trentonian
The move to the United Kingdom brought Trentonian’s Atlantic convoy operations to a close, earning the ship the Battle Honour, Atlantic 1944.
Travelling at a speed of t
welve knots, the crossing took eleven days. Trentonian, Lindsay, and Louisburg (II) remained in company for the voyage.[1] Harrison continued to exercise the crew, who by now were well-trained and knew their jobs thoroughly.
On the second day at sea, Signalman Jack Harold reported for his watch on the bridge. As the morning wore on, despite the sun, the temperature grew steadily colder. Harold commented on the cold and the skipper remarked that it usually meant icebergs were nearby. Later, a large iceberg was indeed spotted.[2]
The gunnery officer, seeing such a big target, closed up the four-inch gun crew for some live-fire shots. Several rounds of high explosive shells were fired at the iceberg. Determining accuracy was difficult. Firing into a mountain of ice creates a white explosion and the true fall of shot is difficult to determine. Some of the crew reflected they never hit it once.[3] The gunners who fired the four-inch gun, however, will tell you that every shot hit.
The three ships were ordered to intercept a position 350 nautical miles southwest of Newfoundland on April 25.[4] They were to perform an asdic search for a possible U-boat along their new course, and if no contact was made proceed on their original route to Londonderry in Northern Ireland. Excitement grew in the ship as word was passed along that they were once again hunting submarines. As fortune would have it, the ship made no contact and Trentonian resumed its original course the next day.
On April 27, Harrison reported position, course, and speed to Western Approaches Command in England as 530 nautical miles southwest of Iceland, travelling at thirteen knots on a course of 070 degrees. The three ships were then ordered east of their position to search for survivors of the merchant ship SS Colin.[5] The search was called off three hours later when a signal was received all survivors had been picked up.[6] Trentonian, Lindsay, and Louisburg(II) continued on their course to Londonderry.
HMCS Lindsay crossed the Atlantic in April 1944 with Trentonian. The two ships are identical. Marc Magee, the artist who painted the cover for this book, used this photo to paint the water and the placement of Trentonian in the water.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
With more than half the distance travelled, Harrison updated Western Approaches Command on April 28; their position was now eight hundred nautical miles west of Ireland, steering a course of 053 degrees and proceeding at a speed of thirteen knots.[7] All three ships were still on schedule to arrive in Londonderry on May 2. The voyage across had been relatively calm. However, the engine room artificer that Harrison had wanted replaced had been left in the ship; AB Jack Scott recalled the sailor became sick before the ship left Halifax and remained that way for the entire trip.[8]
Two days later Harrison sent another update to Western Approaches Command, updating Trentonian’s estimated time of arrival as May 1.[9] Moving at between thirteen and fourteen knots most of the voyage had reduced their travel time by almost a day. Included in his message were defects that had occurred in the three ships while en route. Trentonian had not incurred any problems or breakdowns. Lindsay had both radar sets break down and the main circulating pump for the engines was defective. Louisburg (II) had more problems; its radar, direction finder, wireless transmitter (radio), and steering gear were all defective or inoperable.[10]
Two unidentified crew members from Trentonian during the North Atlantic crossing in April 1944. The weather was still cold enough that there are icicles hanging from the kisbie ring.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Jack Harold.
Trentonian, Lindsay, and Louisburg(II) arrived in Londonderry on May 1, 1944.[11] Trentonian was immediately assigned to the Western Approaches Command in Londonderry as an unallocated unit not assigned to a specific escort group.
Lindsay and Louisburg(II) went immediately for repairs while Trentonian was sent to the oiler to take on fuel after the long voyage across the Atlantic. Once the ship was fuelled and secured to the dock, Lt. Harrison and the navigating officer, Lt. Parre, were both called ashore.[12] Also leaving the ship was the seasick engine room artificer, who was taken by stretcher to the hospital. The crew took pity on the poor man and hoped he would be sent back to Canada by airplane.[13]
With the skipper ashore, the executive officer, Lt. Kinsman, was in charge and the crew was turned out to clean ship.
The crew had been isolated from news of the war for the last ten days and the first reports they heard were of two sea battles off the coast of France, one victorious, the other tragic. During the night of April 26, Canadian Tribal-class destroyers Haida, Huron, and Athabaskan were patrolling off the coast of Brittany with the Tenth Destroyer Flottila. They found three German destroyers attempting to make their way to St. Malo Harbour. The ships engaged the Germans in a running surface battle and all three German ships were hit and damaged. Two were able to escape while the third was sunk.[14] Two nights later, Haida and Athabaskan were off the coast of France on April 29. The surviving German destroyers tried to break through again. Discovered by the Canadians, the German destroyers turned away and fired torpedoes. The Canadian destroyers returned fire, and in the ensuing fight one of the German torpedoes hit the Canadian ship Athabaskan. Athabaskan lost power and was left behind while the other Canadian ship, Haida, pursued and ultimately sank one of the German ships. When Haida returned to aid the damaged ship, they found that it had sunk. They were able to rescue thirty-eight crew, another eighty-six were taken prisoner, while 128 were killed in the action.[15]
Before Trentonian started work on British waters, the officers and crew went through training and evolutions again.[16] They spent fourteen days in rigorous training at what became affectionately known as “panic incorporated,” as all crew members spent time in the ship and ashore learning their jobs under every conceivable emergency and hardship.
They also trained in early versions of technological simulators; that is, full-scale mock-ups of the ship’s bridge. The entire bridge crew ran through simulations under different weather and day/night conditions. They would repeat the process with the crew changing positions so that they could learn the job of another person; if a key crew member was wounded or killed during battle, another person could step in and take their place.
The difficult training took on an increased importance when more bad news arrived. On May 6, 1944, Valleyfield was torpedoed and sank off the coast of Newfoundland. There were only thirty-eight survivors; 123 of its crew and two passengers were killed.[17] The news of Valleyfield’s loss hit Stoker Sydney Coates particularly hard; that was the ship he had been assigned to and missed the call for in Quebec City. Suddenly, the seven days he had spent in the brig didn’t seem that bad.[18]
One of the highlights in Londonderry was a young Irish boy who came to the ship every day to sell fresh buns. He carried a guitar with him and received a few shillings for the ballads he sang. He had a wonderful voice and the crew would listen to him until he was finished and then purchase all his buns.[19]
The forward gun crew practising loading Trentonian’s four-inch gun in Londonderry harbour.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
During their days in Londonderry, a small dog wandered aboard Trentonian. Signalman Jack Harold described the dog as a mutt that looked like a black and white terrier with a curly tail. The dog took a real fancy to the crew and the crew to him. This time Lt. Kinsman said the animal could stay. There were conditions, however. He was not to get in the way and he must be trained; there were to be no presents left about the ship.[20]
Trentonian gained a new crew member in Londonderry when this dog, named AB O’Brian, wandered onto the ship and voluntarily stayed aboard.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
The dog was given a name and rank, “Able Seaman O’Brian,” and stayed in the communications mess with Able Seaman “Slats” Slater as his primary caregiver. One of the sailors made a collar and a hammock for AB O’Brian. This was slung between two stanchions in the mess and low enough for the dog to c
limb into. While Trentonian remained tied to the dock, O’Brian made no attempts to leave the ship.[21] The dog quickly became a favourite amongst the crew and was very spoiled.
Back in Canada, a letter was sent to the City of Trenton from the secretary of the Navy Board on May 14, warning the committee that extra care was now needed when shipping parcels to Trentonian. The city had not been informed that their ship was operating in the United Kingdom and the letter vaguely stated that new shipping arrangements would be needed to protect the items sent to the ship.[22]
Training in the simulators and classrooms ended on May 14 and Trentonian proceeded for evolutions at sea.[23] They spent the next four days practising the simulated training in their ship at sea, repeating everything that had been done in the simulators on the real ship at sea. Trentonian’s crew were much improved from their days in Bermuda. This time, when the towed target flew past the anti-aircraft gun crews, they saw parts of the target being blown off by the accuracy of their fire. Later, they watched the entire target plunge into the sea, the crew having blown away the cable that attached it to the tow plane.[24]
AB Arthur “Slats” Slater volunteered to be responsible for Trentonian’s mascot. AB O’Brian lived in the seamen’s mess with him.
Photo credit: A. Singleton, courtesy of Bruce Keir.
Years later, Stoker Bruce Keir vividly remembered the day the entire off-duty crew was called on deck so the training officer could provide a demonstration of what an air attack would be like. The German air force was considered a serious threat and special emphasis had been placed on anti-aircraft operations. The entire crew watched as two Spitfires made a fast passing sweep of Trentonian. The two fighter planes then gained altitude and turned once again towards the ship. The crew was utterly surprised when both Spitfires started to fire their machine guns. They watched the flashes of white light from both wings and then saw the water on both sides of Trentonian erupt as the fighters strafed down both sides of the ship, flying closer than before.[25]
White Ensign Flying Page 7