RAY MORTON'S HOMEPAGE, Part Two:

"Believe It, Or Not"

As an 18 year old crew member of S.S. Ohio, I was sailing towards Malta in August 1942 in the now famous "Operation Pedestal". Having been brought up in a God-fearing family, I had taken to sea with me a pocket-sized copy of the Bible, presented to me In 1939 for "good attendance" at Sunday School. On the fly-leaf was a label recording the name of the Parish, my name with the reason for giving the book to me, the year, the signature of the Vicar and in small print at the bottom the name of a Bible and Tract Society, and its address.

Following a hectic few days of argument with the enemy, I took an unscheduled

Photo Source: World Book Encyclopedia 1972 edition.

bath in the Med late in the afternoon of Wednesday, 12th August, accompanied by Mario Guidoutti and two DEMS gunners. All four of us were duly picked up by a Hunt Class Destroyer, HMS Bicester, (L34) and duly put ashore in Gibraltar a few days later. As I walked on to the dock in Gibraltar, a guy in bell bottoms came over to me and said "Aren't you Jack Morton's lad?" On hearing my puzzled "Yeah?" he said "Have a beer with your old man in the Crown and Thistle on Saturday afternoons when I'm home!"

In the meantime the folks at home had received the standard telegram saying "Regret to Inform you your son is missing at sea and must be pronounced killed by enemy action" . On the following Sunday evening after the BBC's 9 o'clock news, in a program called Postscript, an Admiral of the Fleet had told the glowing story of Operation Pedestal. This didn't do much for the folks who already believed they had a dead son, but it convinced them their dead son was now a dead hero.

The following day, Monday, another telegram arrived from their Lordships at the Admiralty saying "Following last night's broadcast, can now advise you your son safe and alive. Under no circumstances should you attempt to contact him." That last sentence caused more problems than it solved. The old folks were even more worried. Has he had his head blown off? Will he ever walk again? Maybe he has lost his arms! Forty-eight hours later their questions were answered when the folks received a letter from Father's old drinking mate in Gibraltar telling them where I was and that apart from being half drunk on navy rum, I was in reasonably good condition.

A little over a month later, a few days after I had arrived home in the luxury of a DBS (Distressed British Sailor), the local Vicar came to the door, held out what appeared to be my Bible and said, "I've just come to return this". Where the hell had this come from? The last time I had seen it was in my cabin on Ohio! Inside the book was a letter, written by the finder, to the Bible and Tract Society asking them to contact the Vicar and for him to return the book to my bereaved parents. But let the finder tell the story. Here is his letter:

"Avonmouth, 21st Sept. 1942. Please try and contact the Vicar. Dear Mr Haworth, Just a brief line in explanation, concerning the finding of the Bible, and also the book by Mr Lionel Fletcher, which was presented to Raymond Morton. My own particular ship (names herewith omitted) being lost during "operations", in the recent Malta Convoy, we were fortunately rescued by one of the escorting destroyers. Two days later we undertook the dangerous task of towing the disabled tanker Ohio, a unit of the Eagle Oil Co into Malta. We arrived safely, thanks to the mercies, and over-ruling guidance of "God", after 2½ days and nights of intense enemy air attacks. Late one afternoon, I went on board the tanker, to have a look at the damage, by enemy bombs, which had literally reduced the crew's quarters to a shambles. Searching among the debris for odds and ends, such as a piece of soap to wash with, or an old pair of trousers, to replace our dirty ones which we had damaged during rescue work, 1 picked up the Bible and book in the cabin evidently occupied by "Raymond". 1 had lost my own Bible so 1 kept this copy till such times as I could purchase a new one. Thinking that the boy's parents would be interested to know the circumstances in which the books were recovered, 1 am writing you to ask you if you would kindly forward the books on to them, together with this letter. If you contact them, a reply would most gratefully be awaited at my New Zealand home address, vis: Mr. C. F. Cliffe, 67 High Street, "Carterton", Wairarapa, N.Z. P.S. We were not 500 yards away from the Ohio when the vessel received the first attack and direct hit by torpedo at 6pm. 1 would describe just what happened, but the Censor may object to such procedure. I'm sure that the lad's parents would treasure the books, apart from the extraordinary circumstances in which they were recovered. Do please try and contact them at all costs and my prayers will follow your efforts that "God" will direct you along the right paths. As far as 1 could ascertain "Raymond Morton" was a "Deck Boy" on the tanker Ohio. The master of the ship lives at the following address: Captain Dudley Mason Cleveland Terrace "Westward-Ho", Devon. This later address may help you to trace the lad's movements. My word "shall not return unto me void" we are told and I believe it wholeheartedly. Yours most humbly, rejoicing in salvation through the Grace of God. Able Seaman C. F. Cliffe, N.Z."

I tried every avenue I could think of to contact the writer of the letter without success. It would seem he did not have the luck I had. Truth is stranger than fiction. I am not superstitious -- sailors aren't, are they? I still have the book and the letter and I make sure they go with me every time I move.