Continuing the Coastal News coverage of our local war heroes, this extract from Roy's War Story, was compiled by the late Reg Vaughan, war historian and ex teacher at Whangamata Area School.
For the last two years at Christmas, WWII veteran Roy Brookes of Whangamata receives a card from students of College Cours du Sacre-Coeur, in Caen, Normandy, France, as they work on the duty of remembrance and gratitude to allied Second World War Veterans.
They always state "Thanks to you, we are free".
HEROES: Roy Brookes, right, with fellow WWII veteran Brant Robinson (left) at Moana House Whangamata in the lead up to 2020 Anzac Day. PHOTO/Alison Smith.
In December 1942 I quit my farm labourer's job near Eketahuna, aged 16, and travelled to Wellington to enlist in the Army. I was told I was too young and was rejected.
I then tried the Navy Recruitment Office and, after forging my mother's signature, was soon on my way to basic training at HMS Philomel, in Devonport, Auckland. The officers nicknamed me Junior.
After a period of basic training on HMS Philomel and radar training at HMS Cook, in Wellington, and Naval Watch Station on Stephens Island, I boarded the HMS Leander, in Auckland.
We sailed to Boston, on to New York then to Portsmouth, England. In Portsmouth I transferred to the HMS Achilles. She was undergoing repairs after being damaged in action in the Solomon Islands.
While in Portsmouth I heard that the Royal Navy was looking for volunteers for "small Ships". I was still keen to see some action, so I joined up.
In Late March 1944, I was posted to the HMS Undaunted, a U class destroyer commissioned on March 3, 1944, displacing 1770 tons and carrying a complement of 201 officers and ratings. I was the only Kiwi on board.
I travelled around the world, covering some 150,000 miles in the last 18 months of WWII.
I could have come home after one campaign, but felt a loyalty to my ship and completed the following services:
· North Sea convoys · D Day landings · Mediterranean Submarine chasing · Italy Land support · Indian Convoys · Pacific Fleet
One of the most memorable campaigns was D-Day 1944.
At 18.15 hours on June 5 1944, HMS Undaunted (R53) and her sister ship HMS Ursa (R22) weighed anchor and proceeded out of Portsmouth Harbour heading for The Needles at a speed of 12 knots.
HMS Undaunted was playing her part in Operation Neptune, codename for the seaborne landings in Normandy, beginning the invasion known as Operation Overlord.
Roy Brookes as a young sailor. PHOTO/Supplied.
I was 19-year-old Able Seaman Brookes. My Position onboard was that of a highly skilled radar operator.
After what seemed a short time the Skipper Lieutenant Commander Angus MacKenzie came on the tannoy and told us we were to escort the convoy into Sword Beach, on the Normandy Coast.
My first thoughts were "let's get the job done and get out of there". I had been assigned the radar screen on the bridge and was about to see it all.
At 04.30 we anchored in our lowering position and supporting cruisers took up their positions for bombardment.
In the predawn twilight the cruisers opened fire. The noise was deafening as the 15 inch shells screamed overhead. Within a few minutes I was completely deaf.
The bombardment continued for some time and the destroyers joined in with their armament.
The sky was lit almost continuously by the flashes from the guns and the ship shuddered under shock waves.
It wasn't long before the shore batteries opened fire. We were under fire for a time, but were not hit, though several shells landed uncomfortably close.
I think we were too busy to be scared, and just concentrated on the job we had to do.
Those of us on the bridge were horrified to see one of our landing barges take a direct hit and bodies were flung into the air. It was hellish to see it and not be able to do anything about it.
Before long, the smell reached us - a sweet rancid smell. Never forgotten by those who smell it - cordite, burnt explosives, torn and seared flesh.
The bombardment by Undaunted was centred on Gold Beach and lasted an hour. As sunrise broke we could see L.C.A.s and L.C.T.s making their way to Sword Beach on our starboard side.
We moved closer to the shore and a young officer, whose name I have forgotten, went ashore on a passing barge to observe the fall of shot from our vessel. His progress up the beach was being followed closely by those with binoculars on the bridge.
There was a stunned silence when he was knocked down by small arms fire and he did not get up. I remember he was such a nice guy, well liked and respected by the men under his command.
We closed to within 5000 yards from the shore and could see the bottom when we looked down. I saw a number of bodies, floating face down in the water. Rescue craft were trying to pick them up.
It was a terrible sight, just horrible, one that is still vivid in my memory and very distressing. I don't want to say any more.
Footnote: Roy agreed to tell of his D-Day experience and said he "was doing it for the boys who didn't make it Home ."
