After joining the Navy in 1943 and completing his training at stone frigates HMS Royal Arthur, HMS Scotia and HMS Ganges, able seaman Vic Ould was sent to Chatham Barracks to wait for his first draft. This came in the form of HMS Carron, a brand-new ship in Greenock, Scotland, who first set sail in the dead of night to evade any U-boats lurking nearby hoping for an easy catch. Vic shares details of the many escort missions the Carron undertook in the Arctic and Atlantic Convoys, and talks about the job of a destroyer and how its crew enables it to operate effectively. He also recalls details about his role as a radar operator, and reflects on the end of his military service in Indonesia. Vic – who became a prolific writer who penned several fascinating ‘first-person accounts’ from sailors aboard other destroyers – shares his story with humour, humility and an eye for detail that brings his memories vividly to life.

Having joined the Navy first as an engineer, then as a Seaman Officer, Malcolm had reached the position of Lieutenant Commander Staff Officer and was incredibly busy on the HMS Antrim taking part in Exercise Spring Train by Gibraltar when they starting to hear rumblings about what was happening in the South Atlantic. It then came as no surprise when they were mobilised to head south. Malcolm recalls that there was initially a degree of making things up as they went along as they didn’t know what to expect and nobody, except one Royal Marines Officer, had ever been to the Falklands. One of Malcolm’s jobs was to work on deception tactics such as laying chaff around this ships to appear a larger flotilla and charting a course which looked like they might actually be heading for Argentina. At Ascension, Malcolm transfers to HMS Hermes where he recalls a frenzied race for better sleeping conditions when the Admiral said the officers could share his cabin which included the luxury of a double bed and shower. During this time, Malcolm had two main responsibilities. When on watch he was the Anti-Submarine Warfare Screen Coordinator and when not on watch he managed communications, including highly classified messages. He vividly recalls hearing the tragedy of the Sheffield directly through his headphones but that they only had a brief time to reflect before pushing on with their jobs. Malcolm describes some of their biggest challenges being rudimentary communication, lack of advance warning about airborne attacks and confusion which could arise from the three services not really having collaborated since WWII. He also remembers the tragedies of helicopter crashes and a Harrier exploding, he thinks it was often luck that meant things weren’t worse. Malcolm says it was difficult readjusting to life at home and is grateful to the public who offered members of the task group free holidays. It was a week in Wales with his family, away from home and work, that finally helped him decompress. He reflects that the Falklands will probably have been the last time the Royal Navy will fight a fleet action in that way.

Harry Eddy was born in Devon and joined the Navy in 1943. Following training in Letchworth and Troon, he passed as a wireman and was posted to the LCT-944 (landing craft tank) in readiness for the D-Day landings. Harry describes in detail life aboard his LCT and the responsibilities of his role, recalling the horrors of war and the Navy’s perhaps rather shocking approach to recruits who abandoned their posts during the height of battle. He also remembers how an attempt by his crew to rescue a stricken landing craft from Sword Beach nearly sank his own ship, leaving him lucky to make it back to Britain alive. After the liberation of France, Harry recalls how he and his shipmates headed for Westkapelle, a coastal town in the Netherlands, where the promised and much-relied-upon air support didn’t arrive. In his own words, “It made D-Day look easy.” Harry also shares his memories of VE Day, and joyfully recalls an emotional reunion at a meeting of the LST and Landing Craft Association with his best friend from the war who he hadn’t seen for 40 years.