Tony Delahoy: Things Remembered

NORMANDY LANDING

The Regiment left the east coast on the night of 4/5th June for the West India Docks in London.

On arrival I knew that my home was just a few miles away on the other side of the River Thames. I realised that by scrambling over the dock wall I might be able to return home to see Helen before embarking for France, so I climbed over the wall and landed in the garden of a small house.

The woman who was living there said: ‘Come through, and when you come back I’ll let you back in to the garden’.

I ran all the way through the pedestrian tunnel under the Thames and managed to reach home, only to find an empty house – my wife and her mother had gone to the cinema! Fortunately they returned just before I had to make the return journey, where I once again scrambled over the dock wall. Fortunately I had not been misssed – very lucky!

We embarked on 7th June aboard the SS Fort McPherson and sailed down the Thames Estuary to a salute of hooters and sirens.

On the way over to France there was a submarine alert during the evening but no attack took place. However during the night the ship was attacked by planes.

At first there were some near misses but these were followed by a tremendous shudder as the ship was hit by a large remotely guided bomb. The bomb had penetrated the ship but failed to explode. I like to think the resistance movement had sabotaged the bomb.

The wings of the missile-like bomb were sheared off, revealing masses of wiring cabes that appeared to be attached to it.

The ship stopped and destroyers stood nearby while the bomb was defused. I watched as this missile was hoisted up and lowered over board; it appeared to be a massive size of about 14 feet.

Our ship’s steering gear had been damaged by the impact and the ship delayed, but was soon able to continue on to France by going round in circles.

Standing off shore the ship was attacked again, with many more near misses. Eventually landing craft pulled alongside us and we scrambled down the nets into the landing craft and we were beached at Ver-sur-Mer.

To my amazement the pilot of the landing craft taking me ashore turned out to be a man called Jackie Legge, who had been one of my next door neighbours at home – what a fantastic coincidence!

More THINGS REMEMBERED next week

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davepickering

Edinburgh reporter and photographer