My father served on HMS Wizard during WW2. I have just
transcribed two letters from Captain Hodgkinson which detail the Wizards
activities. I have attached both letters and thought you would find them
useful. I will forward some photos in the near future. Michael
Kennedy
Transcript of letter as originally
typed, exact transcript including errors/typos except that the original
was typed on foolscap sized paper:
Letter
1
“To The Wives
And Mothers
Left At
home.
No
man can leave his home without worrying unless he is sure that help will
be at hand should his wife or dependants need it.
The Admiralty fully realize this and have taken great care to see
that every Service wife or dependant can obtain immediate advice and help
if necessary. The following
notes will make clear how help can be obtained.
1.
In every town of any importance there is a representative of the
“Soldiers, Sailors & Airmens Families Association” who will
willingly give advice, practical help and financial assistance in cases of
need. If you do not know
where the representative is to be found ask at the “Citizens Advice
Bureau” or at the local Police Station.
The “S,S & A,F A” was founded with the one great idea of
helping Service families so you can rely on them to help you.
2.
If you live near Devonport, Portsmouth, Chatham or Liverpool there
is a Family Welfare Officer at each of these ports who will do all in his
power to help and advise you. Either
write direct to “The Family Welfare officer” R.N.Barracks, Devonport,
Portsmouth or Chatham or to “The Family Welfare Officer”
c/o F.O.I.C Liverpool, to make an appointment to visit the Officer
or call on him personally. If
you don’t know where to find the offices in which he works ask at the
main gates to the local Naval Barracks, or if at Liverpool, go to Derby
House.
3.
Men at sea are often worried because their wives have fallen ill
and there is no one to look after the home and the children.
The Admiralty have now started a scheme of “Home Helps” to give
assistance in such cases and if you apply to either of the above
organisations and give the details every effort will be made to provide
you with the necessary assistance free of charge.
If you have to go into hospital arrangements will be made to look
after your children in a Home or by boarding them with a sympathetic
friend. Don’t hesitate to
ask for help then your man need not worry so much.
4.
If you wish to get in touch with your husband or son urgently on
some personal matter you may send him a “C.S.N. Telegram”.
These are available to the Next of Kin of naval personnel and you
may send two a month if need arises.
They are only to be used for urgent messages.
Special telegram forms must be obtained by writing to the
“Commodore, R.N.B. Devonport” and, when filled in, they can be handed
in to any Post Office and cost the same as ordinary inland telegrams.
The Serviceman can reply by the same method.
This is probably the quickest way of getting an answer from a man
overseas.
Please
do remember that the happiness of your husband or son at sea will largely
depend on his knowing that you will be all right at home.
I am giving you these hints on how to obtain help because I feel
that you will take full advantage of them if need arises.
There are so many people who will do all in their power to help you
if you will just ask: do not
hesitate to do so. We will
all go away the happier if we know you are all right.
(signed)
R H Hodgkinson
Commanding
Officer,
H.M.S. Wizard.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 2
Transcript of letter as originally
typed, exact transcript including errors/typos except that the original
was typed on foolscap sized paper:
“
H.M.S. WIZARD,
British Fleet Mail,
Sunday October 14th 1945.
To The Folks at Home .
We thought you
might like to know what has happened to our Ship.
Where are we! Where
have we been! It’s a
longish story, but a good one so we’ll try to tell you.
After we
commissioned at Middlesbrough we felt ready to go in the direction any
direction and on any mission that Their Lordships at the Admiralty decide.
We knew we were not ready for immediate action but we were quite
sure that with patience and hard work we could bring ourselves up to
scratch. We certainly needed
the former and everyone combined to see that we had the latter!
Our first stay
was at Scapa for a short period of working up.
We fired our guns and were gratified to find that they all went off
and, more remarkably, they all went off in roughly the same direction. We
began to learn something about our ship:
some of our brand new ratings learnt to distinguish the blunt end
from the sharp end and often went in the correct direction when told to
“lay aft”. Some of the
older lads learnt to distinguish the “Wizard” from other ships by the
fine way she handled, by the feel of her.
But there were few regrets when we sailed from Scaps, heading for
the open seas. Few regrets?
That sound odd. Surely
men must have hated leaving home? Of
course we all did; but we knew we had to go and we all felt that the
sooner the “Wizard” joined in the fray the sooner we would all be
back. So, we left Greenock
behind, said farewell to Scotland, waved goodbye to Ireland and Wales as
we passed and let England slip behind us a very pleasant memory as we
headed for the East.
That first long
trip out of sight of land is not likely to be forgotten by any of us.
It was rough, mighty rough: rough
as only the Bay of Biscay can be. We
were mostly sick, horribly sick. Our
very young and quite inexperienced Bosun’s Mate was out of sight of land
for the first time in his lefe. As
he surveyed the second day of roaring seas he had evidently given up all
hope of seeing land again. Then
suddenly he ran breathless to the Coxswain and shouted, with excitement
written all over his face, “Look Coxswain, there mus be land somewhere!
There’s a bird!” A
seasick sailor will clutch at every straw.
And sure enough there was land soon.
The rock of Cibralter. We
rushed ashore in a frenzy of delight:
beer, music, dry land, senoritas!
But next day we were off again, this time swiftly through the calm,
blue Mediterranean. The next
stop was Malta. Battered,
heroic Malta. Those are no
idle words as we came to realize when we saw for ourselves the results of
the onslaught Malta withstood. Our
stay there was good. We were
out every day exercising: firing
guns, firing torpedoes, night firings, ack-ack firings.
Everything that could go off was made to go off, every-thing that
should work was made to work so that we knew our ship better with every
day that passed. Malta was
good and we all felt slightly sorry to say goodbye as we pushed ahead to
Alexandria.
Alex is in Egypt. Need
one say more? We all had a run ashore and lost and lost an immense amount
of money in fruitless bargainings. But
we had some fun and added to our stoke of experiences. Then began a long partner-ship.
We were detailed off to accompany H.M.S. “Glory”. And Aircraft
Carrier, and together we passed through the Canal:
that most disappointing of experiences.
Together we traveled the length of the Red Sea:
that purgatory of sand and heat and flies.
The only relief we found was an evening ashore in Aden.
We all agreed that Aden may not be much of a place in itself but
coming as the first stop after passing through the Red Sea it appears as a
veritable Eden!
Now it was the turn of the Monsoon to try its hand against the
“Wizard”. We had a most
unpleasant trip from Aden to Colombo. Big seas, tons of wind and an atmosphere of gloom over the
whole journey.. Gloom from the weather perhaps but not much from the
Ship’s Company. Those of us
who had been so sick in the Bay gradually found that, if we didn’t
concentrate on it, it was quite easy to eat and almost anything.
We got our sea legs and our confidence:
We put aside our greenhorn qualms and tried to convince ourselves
that we were really sailors.
“What like’s Colombo?” was the question on every tongue.
Few of us knew, those that did sounded gloomy.
But any port is good after a storm and we found Colombo quite
acceptable, We sent home vast quantities of tea, we rode around in
rickshaws, we marvelled at much that was new to us and, before the novelty
wore off, we sailed away.
There are some folks who never understand why sailors are so fond
of destroyers. There are many reasons but perhaps one of the best is the
knowledge that we have to have our boilers cleaned at fairly frequent
intervals and that process usually takes long enough for both Watches to
have three days leave. So as
we sailed for Trincomalee we anxiously watched the Chief Engineer’s face
to see if it denoted that his kettles wanted cleaning.
Gradually the buzz got round:
the kettles were all bunged up with fluff and would have to be
cleaned. That meant leave, but where on earth could one take leave at
a dead and alive hole like Trincomalee?
The Captain knew a thing of two.
No sooner had we arrived than the “Wizard” began to prepare to
land what looked like an invasion. A
very harassed Lieutenant seemed to be presiding over a committee of taste
that was slowly building up an immense pile of gear on the deck.
There were buckets and spades, soap and brooms, corned beef and
cabbages, footballs and hockey sticks:
there to seemed to be one of everything and two of most.
Then the plan began to reveal itself.
At eight thirty on the following morning half the Ship’s Company
was moving into Camp for three days.
They would then return and the other half go.
It sounded a bit too much like hard work and it wasn’t made more
attractive by the information that the camp was eleven miles human
habitation, stuck in the jungle. But somehow we all felt that it must be all right, that it
would be all right if we determined to make it so.
And it certainly was all right.
Nilaveli Camp was a paradise in itself.
It was just a collection of rough huts planted in the coconut
plantation on the water’s edge. Water
and light were miraculously laid on but otherwise there was no sign of
civilization. We took possession and lived free of all restrictions for
three glorious days. We swam,
we slept, we went walks, played games: we had about six good meals a day
and snacks in between - - - starting with tea brought to us in bed by the
lads who stayed the whole six days and acted as Staff. It
was perfection. Every evening
we had some entertainment if we wanted it - - - everything we did we just
pleased ourselves. One night
a Scavenge Hunt. We worked in
teams of three and had to bring back a dozen assorted objects.
A crab, a fly, a hair from a cow’s tail: these were fairly easy.
But the final item was “One Small Black Boy” and that wasn’t
so easy to come by. The Hunt
ended at eight thirty and, believe it or not, we had eight small black
boys and sixteen very irate black parents in the Camp by that time!
What a night that was! It
rounded off to perfection those three carefree days.
But chiefly got our kettles clean all too quickly and soon we were
off again after our Aircraft Carrier.
Trailing in the wake of “Glory” soon became no joke.
Carriers are big craft and they are fast.
W had to go from Ceylon to Western Australia, a long hop for a
small sip, and we had to get there fast.
Again bad weather dogged our footsteps.
The Monsoon, angered no doubt by our cheerful acceptance of her
previous buffetings, turned on us with rage.
The Doldrums, that supposedly calm stretch of water, belied its
name and rose up to drown us. Every inch of the way we were banged and bumped, soaked and
thumped as we pounded after our much larger sister.
One big disappointment was that it was too rough for us to have the
traditional Crossing the Line Ceremony but we stored it up for a later
date and meanwhile pushed on for Australia.
Now many of us, in the course of these last six years, have visited
all the big naval bases and many of the small ones.
Fremantle is in the latter class.
It is a small place which acts as a watering and storing stop for
all ships on the road from England to the Pacific Fleet.
Many hundreds of huge ships have passed through and we would not
have been surprised if our reception had been purely business like. But we reckoned without the Australians!
Before we had even secured they had come aboard.
What could they do for us? Already
they had on the quay crates of free fruit, a gift hamper for every man,
stocks of games, papers, books. They
had fixed a dance for us, they had maps of all the best places in the
City. They offered us homes
to go to, free meals, rest, comfort, hot baths - - - anything, everything.
And as fast as one man left us, having loaded us with goods,
another stepped in to offer us all he had.
We all agreed that nowhere in the world had we ever seen such a
wonderful spontaneously kind and generous reception.
But one night there was all we were allowed.
Early the next day we were chasing our Carrier, this time right
across the Great Australian Bight, past Tasmania and on to Sydney.
Just before we arrived the wonderful news of VP Day was received. (V.P. Victory Pacific.)
We entered Sydney Harbour on the great morning itself.
Everything and everybody was in a gala mood.
We sailed to our berth with a bagpiper playing Highland reels on
the forecastle and a jazz trumpeter tearing off strips on the Quarterdeck.
No sooner were we secured than we “Spliced the Main-brace”,
declared it a general holiday and set off to join in the fun.
Our memories of the next two days are vague. There was a lot of beer, pretty girls, beer, race meetings,
dances, beer, pretty girls ……well, you know how it is.
What a wonderful time we had.
No one is very likely to forget Sydney. These Australians certainly
know how to make you feel at home.
But, although there was Victoria in the air, there was still plenty
of work to be done. We had to
push on, this time without our big sister.
We were wanted nearer Japan and we cracked on full speed to get
there. It was an interesting
voyage; somehow one always feels rather Columbus-like when sailing off
into the blue to hit a small island some thousands of miles away.
To the uninitiated it always seems so easy to miss…..even to the
initiated there is always the possibility of “error having crep’
in.” But we made no mistake and soon sighted the Admiralty Isles.
A short stay and we were off again, this time, jumping to Guam.
On the journey we decided to hold our postponed Crossing the Line
Ceremony. A glassy sea and a
shining sun set the scene. Grease
paint, bunting and ingenuity provided the characters.
King Neptune was a right royal figure, Aphrodite looked rather like
“The Last of Mrs Cheyney” but the Doc looked more than capable of
keeping her on her feet and he was ably backed up by a quite revolting
Barber and a highly efficient Dentist.
Herald, Scribe, Bears and police:
they were all there and as about seventy five percent of us had
never crossed the Line before they were all going to have their work cut
out. Soon the fun began:
first in the tub went the Navigator and quickly following on his
heels came the newcomers to Neptune’s Realm.
Some came willingly, deeming it best to get it over and then enjoy
the fun. Others had to be
winkled out from all sorts of hiding places:
one had even hidden himself in the Crow’s nest and got a double
ducking for his pains. We had
on board to Americans as a Liaison team and they both took their medicine
and seemed to enjoy it. Then
all those who had been through began the time honoured ceremony of hunting
out those who said they had been before.
One by one we all got thrown in.
The Chief, the First Lieutenant and finally even the Captain.
To cap it all Neptune and his staff were soaked with a fire hose
and we gradually returned to normal!
Guam passed we headed for Tokyo Bay and the rest of the Fleet.
All these months we had been preparing for the time when we could
play our part in this war. We
had commissioned on VE Day, we joined the pacific Fleet at Sydney on VP.
Day and, to cap it all, we sailed into Tokyo Bay as they signed the peace.
That surely is a record that cannot be beaten by any ship afloat.
Scarcely had we joined the Fleet than we were sent off to collect
Prisoners of War from isolated points round the coast.
No one of us is ever likely to forget our first trip. We lay off
the shore, about a hundred yards from a big Hospital Ship.
The Prisoners of War were taken from the shore to the Hospital Ship
and there processed and sorted out. The
cot cases were kept on board but those able to walk were sent over to us
in landing barges for a fast passage to Tokyo Bay.
No word can describe th 3expression on the faces of these men as
they came aboard a British ship once more.
Their whole being seemed lighted up with a glow of inner
satisfaction and a joy that then cant be put into words.
And we on board were proud: proud
beyond measure at the way these men of our race and blood had withstood
all the Japs could do, proud with them at the magnificent spirit which had
carried them through. Soon we
had three hundred passengers aboard, no longer are they prisoners but free
men looking hopefully to the future,
At full speed we headed for Tokyo Bay and, as we went along, these
men talked: not of horrors
they had passed through but of plans they had for the future.
We listened with admiration, we supplied the missing links in the
story which had stopped over three years ago, and we marveled at the
toughness and grit of men who could go through such an experience and come
out fit and ready to face the future.
As we sailed into the Fleet anchorage the men of H.M.S. “King
George V” manned their ship’s side and gave our passengers such a
cheer that there was not a dry eye on board. They earned their welcome.
In the weeks that have elapsed since our first arrival in Tokya Bay
we have had many jobs to do. We
took part in another big evacuation of Prisoners of War, working with two
American destroyers and having the added excitement of going at full speed
for ten hours at a stretch in order to get the passengers back as quickly
as possible. It may be may
years before three destroyers indulge in such a high speed run again.
Although the Yanks were far bigger than our Wizz we kept up with
them (as they told us afterwards) made them wonder whether they might’nt
have to ask for a reduction in speed.
A day or two after this run, while all our Engine room ratings were
still basking in the glory of their great effort, we were ordered to go
South accompanying an Aircraft Carrier full of ex-Prisoners of War.
We took them to the Admiralty Isles then they pushed off to Sydney
and we stored ship, filled up with mail for the Fleet and returned to
Tokyo.
We have had several runs ashore in Japan and all feel quite certain
that, as far as we are concerned, the Japs can keep the place.
It is all very hilly, indeed you cant find a flat space anywhere
and there is no chance of football, and the hillsides are terraced out
into gardens. Things grow very abundantly - - - and they need to if ninety
three million Japs are to be fed. Twice
we have been anchored off the coast and the Captain has led ashore parties
of sixty ratings, packed in the motor boat and the two whalers, to explore
the countryside. The villages
are all filthy and smell like nothing human but, curiously enough, inside
the houses are quite clean and tidy.
The inhabitants take very little notice of us, though when we first
approached one village the entire population took to the hills outside
with the exception of on policeman and one old lady too old to move.
These two stayed in the village and prepared to meet whatever death
the wild English sailors would meet out.
Imagine their surprise when hordes of sailors tried to barter
Japenese knicknacks for bars of soap
or cigarettes. That village
must have more soap than all the rest of Japan put together judging by the
trophies that appeared in the ship next day!
We have also been to Yokohama, which is very badly blited and
really no fun for a run ashore. Then
once we went to the remains of Tokyo and saw what sights there were to
see. The Emperor’s Palace
is undamaged and we saw Japs making their bows as they passed the gates. But the rest of Tokyo is well and truly smashed and, once
again, is no place for a run ashore.
At the moment we are at a place called Wakiyama and this afternoon
we have been ashore on another exploring party.
We walked miles among the hills all covered with orange trees with
the fruit very temptingly not quite ripe.
When this job is done we are hoping that it will be our turn to go
to Sydney,
Well, that is our story so far.
We have travelled about 25,000 miles, we have seem much that has
been interesting, we have had many good times and have al enjoyed the
comradeship of our fellow Wizards. Most of us think longingly of the time when we can be home
again: for some it may not be
so very far away but for the majority we know there will be some time to
wait. Meanwhile we want you
to rest assured that we are all well, all happy and all looking forward to
seeing you once again.
Till we meet we wish you all the very best,
Yours sincerely,
H.M.S.
WIZARD.”