Post by Dave Homewood on Dec 29, 2016 10:20:42 GMT 12
The following article comes from the AUCKLAND STAR,dated the 27th of December 1944:
"A FRECKLED-FACED LAD"
SAGA OF RUSSIA CONVOY
NEW ZEALAND MARKSMAN
By TROOPER
I have just finished reading "Dynamite Cargo," a racily told story by an American merchant seaman of experiences convoy-bound with war supplies for Russia. Writing of an attack by German aircraft off the coast of Norway, he mentions a New Zealander — "The gunner — the pride of the ship."
"Aboard our ship a gun suddenly barked, and some 200 yards off our starboard beam the water shot up and the sound of an explosion came to us," states the author. "One of the gunners had picked off a floating mine. The gunner, a New Zealander, was the pride of the ship. He was a dead shot, they all boasted — had absolute and instantaneous co-ordination.
"He never missed. Next to their ship they loved this young gunner. I got a look at him. He was a freckled-faced lad of about 20, with narrow shoulders that slanted like the gable of a roof and certainly no physical model for a hero. I was a little sceptical of him until I got another sample of his gunnery later on.
"... In the fog, as we watched it, suddenly appeared the shadowy, distant shape of a plane. . . . He crossed over far ahead, then banked and started towards us. We ploughed steadily on. He was a Junkers 88. . . . He was hammering after us, close to the water so that he would be too low for the anti-aircraft and in position to launch his torpedo.
"The Oerlikon in the hands of the New Zealand gunner began to explode. Cerise tracer bullets streaked into the waves under the Junkers. I wondered frantically why the gunner didn't raise his sight, and watched, expecting every instant to see the Junkers drop its tin fish. But instead, a great gush of flame suddenly swept over the big bomber. She went over, nose first, and collapsed in a mass of wreckage, fire and smoke.
"'E 'ops 'em,' a sailor told me, gleefully. ''E skips 'em off the water up under their bellies.' I was satisfied after the exhibition that the New Zealander deserved all the admiration that he got. We steamed on our way through the thickening fog."
We would like to know who that lad was. If he is still "on' deck" our very best wishes go to him for continued success. If not, the appropriate feelings go out to those who love him, if only his memory. We hope he is still "skipping 'em under their bellies," and would like to shake him by the hand one day. Can anyone identify him?
"A FRECKLED-FACED LAD"
SAGA OF RUSSIA CONVOY
NEW ZEALAND MARKSMAN
By TROOPER
I have just finished reading "Dynamite Cargo," a racily told story by an American merchant seaman of experiences convoy-bound with war supplies for Russia. Writing of an attack by German aircraft off the coast of Norway, he mentions a New Zealander — "The gunner — the pride of the ship."
"Aboard our ship a gun suddenly barked, and some 200 yards off our starboard beam the water shot up and the sound of an explosion came to us," states the author. "One of the gunners had picked off a floating mine. The gunner, a New Zealander, was the pride of the ship. He was a dead shot, they all boasted — had absolute and instantaneous co-ordination.
"He never missed. Next to their ship they loved this young gunner. I got a look at him. He was a freckled-faced lad of about 20, with narrow shoulders that slanted like the gable of a roof and certainly no physical model for a hero. I was a little sceptical of him until I got another sample of his gunnery later on.
"... In the fog, as we watched it, suddenly appeared the shadowy, distant shape of a plane. . . . He crossed over far ahead, then banked and started towards us. We ploughed steadily on. He was a Junkers 88. . . . He was hammering after us, close to the water so that he would be too low for the anti-aircraft and in position to launch his torpedo.
"The Oerlikon in the hands of the New Zealand gunner began to explode. Cerise tracer bullets streaked into the waves under the Junkers. I wondered frantically why the gunner didn't raise his sight, and watched, expecting every instant to see the Junkers drop its tin fish. But instead, a great gush of flame suddenly swept over the big bomber. She went over, nose first, and collapsed in a mass of wreckage, fire and smoke.
"'E 'ops 'em,' a sailor told me, gleefully. ''E skips 'em off the water up under their bellies.' I was satisfied after the exhibition that the New Zealander deserved all the admiration that he got. We steamed on our way through the thickening fog."
We would like to know who that lad was. If he is still "on' deck" our very best wishes go to him for continued success. If not, the appropriate feelings go out to those who love him, if only his memory. We hope he is still "skipping 'em under their bellies," and would like to shake him by the hand one day. Can anyone identify him?
