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P.O. Writer John Wilmshurst.

At the 55th Anniversary Reunion in Coventry I had the pleasure of meeting John and his wife Frances for the first time. At the time of the Yangtze Incident John was a P.O. Writer on the Staff of Vice Admiral Madden, Second in Command, Far East Fleet. Immediately before the Incident London had been on her way to Shanghai to celebrate St. Georges day but diverted on receiving Amethyst's distress signal. With the decision made to attempt a rescue John, along with a number of his secretariat colleagues, were seconded to the 4 inch gun deck. C.P.O. Writer Stowers lost his life whilst John, and two leading writers were wounded.

Below is an extract from the front page of the London Evening Standard, dated 16th. November, 1949, kindly provided by John for inclusion.  

 

 

Evening Standard Naval Reporter GORDON HOLMAN

 The broiling heat of the Yangtze was remembered in a chilly, fog-bound London when men of the warships Amethyst, London, Consort and Black Swan marched to the City to-day.
 It must have seemed to them, as it appeared to the thousands looking on, a ghostly, unreal occasion.
 But the cheers of Londoners were warm enough. They began when the officers and men of the four ships lined up on Horse Guards Parade and the sun made a luke-warm attempt to break through.
 An indication of the wonderful greeting awaiting the sailors - and the Royal Marines and RAF men in the parade - came when they began to move.

Women lead dash

 As soon as the Royal Marines band, white helmeted as if the sun of the East was still beating on them, struck up, there was no holding the big crowd at Horse Guards Parade.
 Women and children led the breakthrough. Police stood helpless as they dashed across to where the frigate Amethyst's men and the contingents from the other ships marched in misty formation.
 Police, including mounted men, did their best to stop women rushing into the ranks, but some did dash forward to touch a sailor's collar. Others could not resist patting on the windows of the coach in which wounded men were carried.
 There had been an orderly enough start to the parade. Officers and men assembled on the Horse Guards Parade, with Amethyst having the largest company and taking the right line.

Wounded there

 Then came another big contingent from the London and then not more than a score of men from the destroyer Consort and sloop Black Swan.
 Captain Cazalet, of the London, wearing the broad gold band of his new rank of Commodore, was there, and, of course, Lieut-Commander J. S. Kerans, the man who made the signal "Have rejoined the Fleet, God Save the Kong".
 Mr. Attlee, with the First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Hall; Mr. A. V. Alexander, Defence Minister, and the First Sea Lord, Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fraser, crossed the parade ground to inspect the sailors, wounded officers and ratings on parade.
 Even Leading Seaman Cyril Williams, who lost both legs, was there in his new mechanical chair. Stoker Mechanic Ronald Fletcher, who lost one leg, stood on crutches.
 The inspection did not take long. At one point Admiral Fraser, following the Prime Minister, missed Leading Seaman Williams.

Past Nelson

 He turned back however, and talked so long with the wounded man that he was left 50 yards behind the inspection party.
 Fletcher, whose smiling face was pictured round the world when the Amethyst wounded came home, could not resist a broad smile to-day when the First Sea Lord spoke to him. As they parted, Admiral Fraser patted his shoulder in a fatherly way.
 The fog was closing down again as the march began. In Trafalgar Square was a great crowd which the police had some difficulty controlling.
 Nelson, high on his column, was only just visible and the fountains below seemed no more than heavy patches of the fog, but these things did not disconcert London.
 The cheers rose, the band played, the bells of St. Martin's peeled.
 The Navy marched with its head up and this, before the service of thanksgiving in St. Martin-in-the-Fields. was only the beginning of the day they will never forget.

On to the City

 After the service in St Martin's, the march to the City.
 At the start, with Commodore Cazalet and Lieut-Commander Kerans to lead them, the sailors marched with solemn faces, but there was a deep affection in the cheers and shouts of the Londoners solidly lining the way.
 Presently the men of Amethyst, London, Consort and Black Swan were smiling The shrill cheers of the children were irresistible.
 And so they smiled their way through the heart of the Empire's greatest City.
 Over and over again there was the comment "How young they are". It was true. Many of them were too young to have known service in the war.

A bouquet

 One surprise was that RAF doctor, Flight-Lieutenant Fernley, who was with Amethyst all through her ordeal, marched, not with the small RAF contingent, but in the midst of the sailors he has learned to know so well.
 Before the marching column had reached the City boundary, a big bunch of flowers had been thrown onto the canvas cover of Cyril William's electric chair. It remained there throughout the march.
 In a little more than five minutes the procession was past, but the memory of those young, cheerful, smiling faces of the wounded, smiling and waving from their coach at the end of the procession, of the youth and courage combined in that small marching  body of men, remained to cheer many thousand of Londoners.
 Every window on the route was packed with people. Men and girls rushed from their offices to join in the greeting.
 Many of them gave up their lunch - hour to do so. The fog, which had threatened to come down again, lifted, and there was sunshine for the men of the Yangtze.

Sole and chicken

 So the marching men reached Guildhall, where they sat down to a lunch of sole, roast chicken and rum baba.
 The Common Councillors of the City, their hosts, sat amongst them.
 Immediately behind the Lord Mayor in the procession to the top table was Lieut-Commander Kerans, and with them, Field Marshall Sir William Slim and Marshall of the RAF Lord Tedder.
 In front of each man was an illustrated menu card with the coat - of - arms of the City at the top.

Gold and ale

 On the long flower-decorated tables was gold plate. The historic setting, the gold, scarlet and blue robes, hushed the assembly at first.
 Then in the orchestra loft the band of the Royal marines, Chatham, broke in with Salute to the Amethyst, then Cruising Down the River, On a Slow Boat to China and, of course, Hearts of Oak.
 Punch, traditional in the City, sherry and other wines were served, but almost to a man the Navy chose beer. The Guildhall waiters were busy carrying large jugs of strong ale.
 Lieut-Commander Kerans had a few words for his officers and men - it was probably the last time he would speak to them publicly before they dispersed to continue leave - in his after-lunch speech.
 "Your spirit of leadership and cheerful acceptance of events not only in the Yangtze but subsequently has been of immeasurable assistance without which success would have been doubtful factor" he told them.

 

 



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