After leaving Gibraltar for the last leg of the journey home we began to feel the cold creeping in. After over two years away from England I had become used to tropical weather and I suppose my blood was so much thinner. I remember one night particularly when we were crossing the Bay of Biscay, this was notorious for its rough seas as the Atlantic rollers came up to the French coast. I was on watch in the Crows Nest from midnight to four in the morning, - the dreaded "middle watch", when I reported at midnight, the seaman I took over from looked decidedly green about the gills. I watched him climb down the mast about 100 feet to the deck and began to dread the next four hours. I cant imagine anywhere on Earth where a mans stomach could be less at home than at the top of a ships mast in the Bay of Biscay on such a stormy night as that was. The ship was rolling almost 180 degrees and I watched the sea rushing up towards me each time she rolled to port and starboard, it was also pitching fore and aft and although I managed to last out the four hours without being sick I was very glad when four o'clock came and I climbed dizzily down the mast to the comparative calm of the heaving mess deck.
We had taken some more soldiers on at Gibraltar and when we hit the rough weather it was absolute chaos in the soldiers quarters ,men were falling down ladders and over each other and meals and pots were sliding off their tables. Finally the skipper ordered over the tannoy that boots were forbidden below decks and the soldiers kept their feet better in slippers or sandals. As we neared England we picked up a football match on the wireless and I got a thrill when I heard Middlesbrough were playing Aston Villa, I knew that I was nearly home.
The Portland Bill pulled into Portsmouth harbour about mid-September 1946, about two years and two months after I had left Portsmouth. We assembled on deck to be told our disembarkation destinations, we were sent to different depots according to our trades. As a radar rating, I was sent to HMS Collingwood which was at Fareham Hants, quite close to Portsmouth. About a dozen radar ratings travelled by jeep with me and we had to spend the night in HMS Collingwood where they promised us that we would be going on leave the next day. I had got through the customs OK with a load of presents, although I had to hand over six cigarette lighters to be kept in the Kings Warehouse.
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