Royal Australian Navy, Number 36654 - Ray Willmot, Ulverstone. Tasmania. Australia.

I joined the Royal Australian Navy in Hobart, Tasmania Australia on 1st September 1948 and served 12 years in the Seaman Branch specializing in Radar Plotting. In the latter years I became personal secretary (N.D. Writer) to the Fleet Direction Officer whilst serving on board HMAS Melbourne.

A summary of my early naval training service included: Recruit training (Class 77) was at HMAS Cerberus (Flinders Naval Base). Ordinary Seaman training on board HMAS Latrobe cruise to Devonport, HMAS. Australia (1949) when it cruised to Adelaide and Fremantle & Able Seaman training on board HMAS Culgoa when it sailed for service with the British Commonwealth Occupational Forces in Japan from September 1949 to February 1950. On 12th April 1950 I transferred to HMAS Watson to specialize in Radar Plotting (R.P.3) & then again on 23rd August 1956 to complete an advanced Radar Plotting Course (R.P.2). On 3rd February 1954 I completed a special Navigation/Direction Writers course at HMAS Cerberus. Other ships & depots  I served on include: HMAS Sydney, HMAS Vengeance, HMA. Depot London, HMAS  Fremantle and HMAS Albatross.

In 1951, I was one of a crew  of 1,427+ to set sail for Korea on board the aircraft carrier HMAS Sydney, under the command of Captain David Harries. I remember the ship had been delayed in its sailing from Sydney because someone had taken to cutting essential electrical cables. Many rumours surfaced on the mess decks as to who and why it was done but I am unaware of any official information in this regard. The ship joined Task Group 95.1 on 3rd October with the tasks of providing close Army support, bombardment air spotting, bombing guerrilla targets, coastline and waterway reconnaissance, aerial photography, anti submarine patrol, and convoy protection. I was 22 years of age and entering my first period of operational service.

My personal roll was associated in manning various positions in the Operations Room, the Aircraft Direction Room or Radar Display Room. The work would include detecting and reporting ships or aircraft appearing on radar screens, giving their bearing and range, plotting this information in the case of aircraft on a large Perspex screen in the Aircraft Direction Room or in the case of ships on the Operations Room plotting table. Communicating with pilots (we had control of the aircraft once they left the flight deck and the ships immediate area) logging conversations between ship and aircraft, obtaining flight information, fuel state of aircraft. Maintaining Flight Boards detailing information on pilots and crew names, aircraft numbers, call signs, aircraft duties, just to name a few.

The Captain (David Harries) was also known as 'Typhoon Harries' and I have no idea where the nickname originated from, but he certainly showed tremendous seamanship abilities in saving aircraft and the ship during typhoon 'Ruth', which I write about later.

A number of things come to my mind about the Korea War and I offer them here in no particular order of importance:-

I remember the hard work associated with bringing the ships crew up to a state of high war readiness. War routine and action stations were exercised so often, in fact, we closed up at action stations three times in one morning because we were not getting to our stations quick enough. Also flying training was carried out continuously en-route from Sydney, with the loss of one Sea Fury aircraft that ditched into the sea due to engine failure, the pilot being picked up by the sea-boat. Also the sea-boat retrieved a Naval Air Mechanic who had fallen overboard. 

The 'worth' of this training was vindicated I believe by the messages to the ship at the end of her tour, including one from the Admiral Commanding the United States of America 7th Fleet, which is on record as praising our work in setting records in getting our aircraft into the air in all kinds of weather, listing achievements and acknowledging his great respect for the proven fighting ability of the ship and its embarked air group.

Perhaps the first time I really felt anything of an operational environment, was when the order to "darken ship" was put out and the heavy dark black curtains were put around all doors and entrances to the outside decks. It was very difficult to come from the full lighting of the mess deck areas, to getting your eyes adjusted to outside darkness, without body parts hitting some sort of object. The people who helped me most during the initial periods of the operational environment, were the Chief and Petty Officers onboard, as quite a number of them were WW II veterans and they seemed to watch out for the able ratings. No rubbish was thrown over the side as this could identify the ship's whereabouts to the enemy; thus carrying large quantities onboard was a problem and somewhat smelly.

The appalling waste of human life and the misery imposed on the Korean people, especially women and children, was hard to comprehend, and I felt tremendous pride in having been able to help the Korean people, although I did not set foot on Korean soil.

Anyone who served on the Sydney will have differing recollections of the various operations undertaken, but a significant one to me occurred half way through our first ten-day patrol on 11th October 1951 when a record for a light fleet carrier serving in the Korea War was established. The aircraft flew 89 sorties in one day. The pilots were engaged in bombing and strafing of Chonchon and Tonghow villages, and spotting for shoots by ships including the battleship USS New Jersey, that was firing its 16-inch guns at the village of Singhung-Ni.

I was in communications with one of the Sea Furies flights over the target area and I well remember the excitement of the pilot's voices when they un-expectantly came across about 1,000 enemy troops and stores in the Kojo area. Casualties were estimated at some 200 enemy. 

Another operation was on October 23rd when 57 sorties were flown with 13 of these being associated with the rescue of a USAF Boeing B-29 crew which was down in the sea north of Chinnampoo. A Sea Fury located one of the crew who was picked up by an American rescue amphibian, codenamed 'Dumbo'

Although I do not remember the full details, it was very pleasing for us to be able to provide close support missions to the British Commonwealth Division and especially 3rd Royal Australian Regiment.

Late on the afternoon of 26th October a Firefly, piloted by Sub/Lieutenant Neil MacMillan with his observer Chief Petty Officer Philip Hancox crash-landed in the heart of enemy territory near Sariwon after being hit by flak during an attack on a rail tunnel. They were some 120 km from the aircraft carrier and surrounded by the enemy. With support from the ships Sea Furies and using their Owen sub machine guns they kept the enemy at bay until rescued by the ships helicopter. Two enemy soldiers who had crept too close (within 15 metres) were killed. The rescued crewmembers were taken to Kimpo Air Base where a line of jeeps used their headlights to mark the landing strip. The Sydney was not equipped to do night flying.

When a fatality or an emergency arose through downed aircraft, I think it brought home to us the realities of the war and that casualties from attack could and would happen at any time whether over enemy territory or on the ship. Death was always upsetting for us, Sub Lieutenant Sinclair, his aircraft had been hit by flak, caught fire and as he jumped, the tail of the plane hit and killed him. His body was recovered by our helicopter. Other pilots killed were Lieutenant K. Clarkson on 5th November, he failed to pull out of a dive during an attack on enemy transport, and Sub. Lieutenant Ronald Coleman whose Sea Fury went missing during a Combat Air Patrol mission. The ships crew were always anxious when aircraft became overdue, or were returning damaged from flak, even when you were not on duty you waited for news.

The Sydney was designed to carry a complement of 1343 crew but as I have written we had 1427 give or take a few for service in Korea, which meant the crew had to endure cramped and freezing conditions which in January was -8 deg C.  I seemed to be always cold and sleeping in a hammock, even with an extra blanket, let the cold through the flimsy mattress. Also feeding so many sailors created enormous queues for meals, how I disliked them!

An enormous amount of work was needed in the replenishment of our supplies after completing a ten day patrol i.e.,  food, ammunition, and fuel to name a few. Often we would be called upon to replenish a ship on patrol escort with us, so extra was taken onboard. One did not feel like going ashore too much in Sasebo (Japan) because replenishment schedules whilst secured to a harbour buoy, just had to be maintained and work often went late into the night. Also the boat journey from the outer buoys took so long anyhow.

Discipline on Sydney was of the utmost importance and being an aircraft carrier I can understand why the ship's standing orders were so strictly enforced. The Executive Officer (Jimmy in naval terms) was Commander V.A.T. Smith, a very hard taskmaster. His orders were carried out without question. I bet if you was not working or doing something wrong, and looked over your shoulder, 'Vat' would be there watching. He seemed to be everywhere on the ship whether day or night. Although most of us grumbled and felt hard done by, we also know and appreciate the magnificent contribution this man done towards the war effort, in 'running' the ship to such a high degree of effectiveness. 

Being at a high degree of damage control in the operating area, we had to be sure everything in our living quarters was properly stowed away in bins or lockers, including our towels. This was because of the likelihood of an attack and the need to use the ships pumps. Hygiene was a problem, keeping clothes clean, doing the washing that I done using a bucket with a pogo stick as a manual agitator. This was a simple device consisting of a handle with a funnel attached to the end of it. I well remember taking my washing out of a bucket and before I could peg it on the line, it had frozen hard; I knew then it was cold!

We continually had flooding in the seaman's bathroom due to an inefficient pumping device. The bathroom (sited under the water line) would often be closed, which meant we had to either go without bathing, or double up in the stoker's bathroom that caused crowding resulting in minor friction at times.

Gun turrets had to be continually moved or they would seize up and the Flight Deck had to be cleared of snow and water pipes froze. I found it strange (coming from Australia) to see the shipside caked with ice as sea spray froze, obviously we did not venture outside more than necessary to go on watch or to maintain the ship. Those seamen manning the guns sneaked a cigarette by smoking the cigarette with the lighted part stuck into a jam or similar tin to stop detection.

A light hearted moment I remember was being in the Aircraft Direction Room, when a pilot over the battlefield, was informed by the crew that he had won $200.00 in the ship's sweep on the Melbourne Cup.

About half-way through a patrol of ten days, we would refuel at sea and receive mail usually from the fleet tanker Wave Premier. This was a hazardous exercise in seamanship in itself, as the ships did not often enjoy smooth waters in which to accomplish the task. Also they had to steer a zigzag course at differing time intervals, as a precaution from submarine attack and often there would be a ship working either side of the tanker.

We enjoyed communicating and working with other ships. I recall one day, for an exercise, we made arrangements and had some of our aircraft land and take off on an American aircraft carrier. Pilots from that aircraft carrier were suppose to reciprocal, but as the American aircraft flew down our starboard side ready to break off to port and come down wind for a landing, the flight leader called his other three aircraft saying something like "I don't know about you guys but that little baby down there dose nothing for me, I'm heading for big mamma", which they all did.

Typhoon 'Ruth' on October 14th I shall never forget. We had arrived in Sasebo harbour (Japan) to refuel and rearm after a ten day patrol off the coast of Korea. This was always a very busy time for us and there never ever seemed to be enough workers around to handle the volume of the replenishment and to carry out maintenance on the ship and its equipment (the men under punishment were most handy). Anyhow the order came from a Rear Admiral (Probably Scott-Moncrief but I am not sure) for the ship to sail. Crew members ashore were recalled to the ship, the replenishment was stopped, and we were ordered to secure everything for rough weather sailing.

That might sound easy to do, but believe me with ammunition boxes piled high, aircraft spares, bags of vegetables, drums of oil, food etc., all had to be quickly stowed and with a full complement of aircraft onboard, this proved difficult.

As soon as the ship cleared the harbour we ran into the gale force wind and it was not long before it was not possible to walk upright on the flight deck. I had been in a typhoon at sea near the north island of Japan when I served on the frigate HMAS Culgoa the year before, so thought I had some idea of what to expect. We encountered mountainous seas 14 metres high, ship was rolling to a frightening 35 degrees, wind exceeded 130 km/h. The Captain had difficulty in keeping the ship heading up to sea using the engines just enough to keep the ship moving and the visibility was down to the length of the ship. I do not know how many rivets there are holding the steel of a aircraft carrier together, but I am sure each one moved a little during this episode, the noise was so eerie and frightening. I was pleased the English did not weld their ships.

During the night came the dreaded pipe four of five times "fire, fire, fire, fire in section etc., I say dreaded because we were aboard a ship, which carried thousands of gallons of high-octane petrol. It was a busy and sleepless night for us all with many sailors risking their lives resecuring aircraft and equipment. The fires had started due to water entering ventilator ducts and causing short circuits in the ventilation fans. I remember at the height of the storm about 1 am, my hammock jerking violently just as if someone was at the head or foot of it pulling up and down on the securing ropes trying to wake me up. Also some of the aircraft's underwing fuel tanks detached, ruptured and filled ventilation systems with Avgas fumes.

The ratings main cafeteria became flooded, the Chief and Petty Officers mess was un-functional and meals served to us consisted of a sausage between two slices of bread. Ironically on our return to Sasebo harbour we found out, via the mess deck grapevine, that the Imperial Japanese Navy and the Americans considered the harbour a safe typhoon anchorage with adequate buoys on moorings of great strength to enable ships to ride out any gale. We lost a 16-foot motorboat, a forklift truck, a 36-foot Cutter, one Firefly aircraft, and six other aircraft were badly damaged. (seems someone goofed?)

An aircraft carrier is so much different from other ships; it is a floating airfield with so many crews doing so many different things, all putting great strain on the ship's company, especially as we had to take precautions at all times against any kind of attack. Probably the less likely, was an attack from another surface ship, but this could not be discounted. I found you got very little rest at sea because of all the activity you were either involved in, or was going on around you. There was continual piping over the ship's address system e.g. 'fire danger' warnings when refuelling aircraft, closing up sea watches, hands to meals, exercising damage control, no smoking, all sorts of things. Often we were so tired we could not even be bothered queuing up for our meals, so went without. Just moving around the ship in damage control state, closing doors, getting through closed hatches, sapped your energies and even showering was an effort in the cold.

I guess there is much more I could write, but I will conclude by giving credit to the seamanship of the ship's crew & to the great flying skills of  the pilots, landing their piston engine aircraft of the size they did, on half of the flight deck some 685 feet (198.12m) in length, during Sydney's tour of duty - only those who have served on a light fleet carrier would really appreciate just what goes on and the dangers confronted on a daily basis. Besides the weather conditions, we had occasions when returning aircraft landed still carrying 60 pound rocket projectiles that had failed to go off, and as the aircraft landed on the flight deck, the rockets would launch themselves along the flight deck and fortunately drop over the bow of the ship into the sea.

Finally, I believe we should also remember the debt we owe to those who looked after the service men and women on their return home from the Korea War - mothers, fathers and especially partners. Sometimes a partner may have been only someone to argue with, but in most cases, a partner is greatly loved, a best friend and confidante, a source of physical and moral support who see you through both the good and the bad times - for this we should be indeed grateful, (thank you Marleen).

Have a nice day, sincerely, Ray.

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This page was last modified on 14 September 2003.