Unsung Heroes of the Royal Canadian Navy by Cynthia Faryon

Author:Cynthia Faryon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIOGRAPHY and AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Military, HISTORY / Military / World War II, HISTORY / Military / Canada
Publisher: Lorimer
Published: 2011-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Tribal Kill

The naval grapevine talks about the Tribal Class Destroyers as being slow and under-gunned. The crews of the HMCS Haida and the HMCS Athabaskan don’t agree. The Tribals, they argue, have more guns than River Class Destroyers, and at least seven times the firepower of an ordinary destroyer, if not more. They are often referred to as pocket cruisers, and by the end of World War II, the Haida is one of the most celebrated ships in Canadian history. Lieutenant Commander Henry “Harry” George De Wolf is the commander of the Haida, and John Stubbs (previously the captain of the Assiniboine) is now commanding the Athabaskan.

The ships’ companies come from every province in Canada. As each new recruit arrives on board, a familiar cry is heard. “Anyone here from the west?” And in salty language someone answers, telling him what they think of the west. A similar query is raised about the east, and again a strong voice yells out what they can do with the east. A good-natured argument then breaks out, and the air buzzes with typical seamen’s banter, as friends recognize friends and homesick Canadians compare hometowns and talk of loved ones.

The Tribals are more than just fighting ships to the homesick Canadians. These ships are the saltys’ homes, and they’re run like a village. All on board put the ship first, their mates second, and themselves last — in true Canadian naval tradition.

The mascot on the Athabaskan is a ginger cat who walked up the gangplank one sunny afternoon and has run the ship from that day forward — as only a cat can do. The ship’s crew have named her “Ginger,” of course. And, although they call her a she, Ginger is a he.

On the Haida, the mascot is a small scruffy terrier-like dog with a wet tongue and a wagging tail. The gun crew picked him out from a litter while on shore leave, once they got the okay from the officer of the day (ODO) for a “purebred Airedale pup.” The pup is anything but a purebred. However the ODO, himself a dog-lover, tweaked the pup’s ear and agreed to have him on board in spite of his dubious parentage. The pup quickly let the ship’s two ducks and Angora rabbit know who’s boss.

One afternoon, as the Haida was being refuelled at sea, the hose from the tanker that was fuelling bunker “B” came loose. Oil fuel sprayed high in the air and covered the deck and the dog in a black sticky mess. The ship’s doctor scrubbed up the wretched animal, and the dog was given the name “Bunker B.”

Now, as the ship is standing by, Bunker B (still in late puppyhood) stands with his head cocked to one side, growling at his favourite toy, a leather glove. He is getting saltier every day; he stands completely still during inspection, and knows to bark aggressively at the officers. The gun crew are his gods and he follows them faithfully.

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