Ballarat the first Australian ship to secure to the Japanese mainland sent a message to Shropshire which read: 'if we knew you were coming we would have baked a cake'. No one on the bridge at the time seemed particularly amused at this attempt to be funny except the sailors as we awaited comments from the senior officers, but instead the result was a few unintelligible words and raised eyebrows. If Lieutenant-Commander Cooper had been about I am sure he would have used one of his favourite expressions by replying to Ballarat's captain as 'you silly sausage'.

When everything was set on board Missouri for the signing of the peace treaty, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, commenced proceedings by saying:

"I now invite the representatives of the Emperor of Japan and the Japanese Government and the Japanese Imperial General Headquarters to sign the Instrument of Surrender at the places indicated.'

The Japanese signatories were: Foreign Minister MAMORU SHIGEMITSU who signed on behalf of the Emperor of Japan; General YOSHIJIRO UMEZU who signed on behalf of the Imperial General Headquarters.

The Allied Signatories were in the following order: Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers, General of the Army, Douglas MacArthur; Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz for the United States; General HSU YUNG-CHANG for China; Admiral Sir Bruce Fraser for the United Kingdom; Lieutenant-General DEREVYAKO for the Soviet Union; General Sir Thomas Blamey for Australia; Colonel Moore Cosgrove for Canada; General Jacques Le Clerc for France; Air Marshall L. Isitt for New Zealand.

On completion of all signatories signing the document, General MacArthur stated:

'Let us pray that peace be now restored to the world and that God will preserve it always - these proceedings are closed.'

Whilst the Royal Australian Navy was involved in exactly six years of war in all theatres of war the statistics shown on the instrument of surrender showed the United States was officially at war for a period of 1364 days five hours and fourteen minutes, not quite four years. When the signing of the peace, taking place under the cover of 1900 Allied aircraft (mainly US) and watched by hundreds of Missouri's crew and visiting Allied officers was over, it did not take long for all ships' companies to fall into the old peacetime Navy routine, such was one 'Furphy' that we were to holy stone our upper decks and return it to a peacetime 'white' again. Some of us young sailors asked what a 'holy stone' was
- you'll find out said the old 'salts'.

The night after the signing, Commodore Collins visited the battleship Duke of York and talked with other Allied officers as well as enjoying the 'musical sunset' and viewing the Royal Marine Band 'Beat the Retreat'. Next day, the 3rd, the RN carrier HMS Speaker with 1400 ex POWs on board including four Perth survivors, passed close by to receive hearty cheers from our crew. One of our long-serving crew members Leading Stoker Max Farrell later also headed south on board HMS Wizard to await his discharge on medical grounds. He thought the passage to Sydney would be quick but didn't know the Wizard was the 'mail' ship and made many stops, but Max did enjoy the 25 knots speed as opposed to all other ships cruising at an economical 'wallowing' speed of 12 to 14 knots.

That night at 2030 a ship's company concert was staged on the foc'sle with the ship's band giving excellent backup. The silhouetted carving up of the body by a 'medical team' using oversized cruel-looking instruments was a highlight especially the vigorous dangling and shaking of the oversized man-made private parts before throwing them into the middle of an appreciative audience, and I am sure all would remember what a smashing drop Lieutenant Gregory was when dressed up as a provocative female. The music to back up the 'operation' (played with zest by Chan Redding and fellow bandsmen) was to say the least, terrifying one moment and exciting the next and like all shows make the play acting seem real. A good show and ably produced by Leading Seaman 'Count' Kevin Whitby as well as being supported by 'Dr' Fitzpatrick, S.B.A. Kerr-Grant and many others, their names long forgotten.

Hobart and Ballarat came alongside on the 4th and we met some old friends on board these ships. Warramunga and Bataan were doing extra duties ferrying within Tokyo Bay and on the 6th and 7th respectively, left to embark POWs.Aircraft of every description were flying overhead as the Missouri left harbour on the 6th and the USS Lexington and HMS Indefatigable escorted by destroyers, entered. The very fast minelayer HMS Ariadne sailed for Brisbane, so it was said, to pick up stores including beer for the squadron and other thirsty ships.

Commodore Collins left Shropshire on the 7th and visited the midget submarine base with scores of nearly completed midgets. We reported that the underground headquarters were more crude but similar to those to Portsmouth and Chatham. Shropshire's shipwrights were in great demand ashore to rebuild establishments suitable as entertainment centres for all ranks. One in particular was the Yokohama Yacht Club which was allocated to Commonwealth Navy ships and was to be called the British Fleet Canteen.

A working party of shipwrights and seaman offsiders was sent ashore. Our shipwright, Bill Marriott and offsider Able Seaman Jack Pitman, were not only to carry out renovations but to supervise the 'Nip' labourers who were assigned to do the 'donkey' work, and also keep an eye on the behaviour of the sailors partaking of their daily allowance of beer. Holy stoning the decks was never completed. We ran out of holy stones after many were 'accidentally' lost over the side. It was later agreed we repaint the decks although some threatening words about us paying for the stones was a rather foreboding feature of the exercise.

We also repainted ship and one of the main tasks was to scrape the ship's side at the waterline. A blunt ended dinghy (both ends) painted blue and called the Alice May was used. She had been built by the shipwrights 'long ago' during the Philippines campaign and was designed to be manned by a crew of three. Before Alice May sailors had to be either lowered on stages or use the whaler and lean over and scrape away the weed growth. This was awkward and dangerous. So Alice May came to be and because of its low freeboard was easier to work from and to all who 'sailed' in her, easier to fall off and enjoy an illegal swim, particularly when out of sight under the bows.

Able Seaman-Jack Pitman from Queensland recounts one or two interesting sidelights of this time with working parties ashore. He and others found it amazing that one of the few buildings undamaged apart from the Emperor's palace and the Tokyo railway station was the brewery. Who said the Americans couldn't bomb accurately? On another occasion whilst travelling ashore in Shropshire's motor boat to the canteen a real 'pea soup' fog descended as they approached the wharf. It was too dangerous to go on so the boat drifted for what seemed like several hours and when the fog lifted they had practically returned to Shropshire.

On another occasion an RN sailor called Murphy with too much rum and beer in him became troublesome and tried to dive off a springboard into an empty swimming pool. Well, Jack Pitman was big and strong but it took him and several others to entice, grab and manhandle this very drunk rather large Irishman into the workboat for return to his ship All in a day's work Jack said, although putting up with two Japanese labourers who complained that a log of wood was too heavy to lift gave him the pip. Jack shamed them by lifting it on his shoulder and carrying it to the job. The problem disappeared and they worked.

As well as witnessing the surrender as the squadron's representative, Commodore Collins was given the task of arranging the entry to Japan of the British Commonwealth Occupation Force. This force consisted mainly of Australian, British Indian and New Zealand troops and was commanded by Australian Lieutenant-General Sir Horace Robertson, CBE, DSO. The force was based at Kure on the southern part of Japan.

Commodore Collins used Shropshire as his initial base of operations as well as the house allocated to him in the grounds of the British Embassy. Later when Shropshire left for Sydney he reremained ashore to complete this most important task for the arrival of the BCOF in January 1946. The BCOF forces consisted of Australians from Moratai and Borneo, British from Malaya and Burma, New Zealanders from Italy and the Indian troops from Malaya and Burma. On their arrival Commodore Collins having completed his duty returned to Australia during the month of February 1946.

Commodore Collins visited many ships and establishments, one in particular being the refurbished Naval Officers Club at Yokosuka, eleven miles across the bay where he met the guest of honour Admiral 'Bull' Halsey, the US 3rd Fleet. He also talked to Captain H.J. Buchanan, DSO, RAN Captain D7 who gave an interesting resumé of his role when they landed and cleaned up the area of Yokosuka by de-activating the fortresses and storerooms.

On 7 September it was announced that about 15 percent of the ship's company with first priority for demobilization would be leaving on board Hobart for Sydney The transfers took place on the 10th and Hobart sailed next day passing close to Shropshire in fine and clear weather to the sound of rousing cheers. Hobart was obviously a very over crowded ship with 1300 men on board and conditions for the next week or so would be rather uncomfortable. The commodore with six officers and thirty ratings were taken by Nepal and Quality to Tokyo to witness the impressive hoisting of the colours and changing the guard at His Britannic Majesty's Embassy, Tokyo.

As meteorologist's yeoman I was privy to all reports of falling barometric readings and general comments regarding weather conditions. All indications pointed to rough weather ahead and I am sure that the fast minelayer HMS Manxman was very relieved to enter harbour on 17 September for some protection. Shropshire's cable party were hard at it veering some additional cable and preparing the other anchor. The engine-room raised steam for 20 knots and then a full head of steam although signs of bad weather didn't deter the battleship King George V, escorted by two destroyers Norman and Termagant leaving harbour on the 20th. We were anchored in 20 fathoms of water with 8 1/2 shackles out. This held the ship when gusts of wind hit us at 50 knots. Both Warramunga and Bataan dragged anchors but were able to weigh and shift to a safer anchorage.

The same day Lieutenant F. Boylan our meteorologist left for Sydney but not before reminding me to keep up my weather charts and report to the navigator, Commander Mesley on a four-hourly basis. He also restated his instructions, not to refill the wet bulb thermometer at the top of the foremast if things got rough as Birrell (leading signalman) may not be there next time to assist me down. He did not have to remind me of my previous scary experience when the ship was rolling.

Many will have forgotten the ban placed on Shropshire's crew going ashore in September, because a few enthusiastic 'looters' were caught by the US Military Police. Well at last on the 26 September a small group of us had a 'liberty' ashore and were taken by the 'ferry' Bataan to enjoy what was left of Tokyo. Two of our other destroyers Quickmatch and Nepal also came alongside for a few days when another group of liberty men were taken ashore aboard another 'ferry' HMS Wrangler on the 27th.

The Tokyo area which had been fire-bombed was indeed bare of buildings. The Diet, the Palace, the Tokyo railway station and other concrete and steel buildings were virtually the only habitable buildings of any note remaining in the main street called Ginza, and the Japanese people were hard at it erecting temporary accommodation and fixing partially destroyed buildings. The tram service was quickly back in service so at least we could move about a little. Most who went ashore found some solace in a little bartering and visiting hastily set up canteens but costs were high, or you could say our pay was low compared to the Americans.

Many changes of command were taking place. Admiral W.F. Halsey, USN Commander 3rd Fleet was farewelled aboard King George V and Admiral R.A. Spruance, USN Commander 5th Fleet relieved him. Captain G.S. Stewart RAN assumed duties as Senior Officer, Destroyers and Commander A.H. Green RAN, Captain of Norman called on the commodore on the 21st and Warramunga left for Sydney on 22 October. Commodore Collins dined with Admiral Spruance on board the giant US battleship New Jersey in company with the senior British naval officer Rear-Admiral Brind.

During the month of September a number of things occurred: Shropshire initiated the 'Voice of the Australian Squadron' broadcast for the benefit of all RAN ships at anchor in Tokyo Bay. Music, live artists, topical talks by men from all RAN ships made the 'Voice' a great success. AB Ron Key, the coxswain of the LCVP loaned to us by the US Navy, told the story of how it filled with water during the typhoon and was virtually dangling on our port boom before it finally sank. A lengthy report by the inquiry was excellent but when presented to the US Port Authority was given scant attention and the officer was told to select another barge. It was a classic example of the American way - the LCVP was mass produced and expendable, so take another. It brings to mind our style; the lengthy enquiry into the loss of our pinnace.

A further liberty 'ferry' Quickmatch arrived to take another group ashore for a few short hours leave. A church party went ashore to Yokohama for a service. When the Commander-in-Chief of the British Pacific Fleet signalled to all ships to 'splice the main brace', we in the RAN ships, were issued one bottle of beer per man because of the short supply. Our beer ship, HMS Apollo, was on the way from Queensland so we were told.

The problem of supplies to the Australian Squadron came up - although attached to the US 3rd Fleet under Admiral Halsey we were not an integral part of their organization and subsequently the cessation of Lend-Lease created a problem of supply arrangements. It was assumed, but unresolved at this stage, as to whether we would obtain supplies from the British Pacific Fleet store ships or from the United States Navy.

The statistics for HMAS Shropshire at 30 September 1945 and since commissioning on 17/4/1943 are of interest: Distance travelled 91 886.35 miles at an average speed of 14.35 knots. With the cold weather approaching, and the ship's engines being dormant, the ship became cold and musty, there were a few fellows regretting their hasty sales of clothes to the Japs. Most of us were now wearing two or three pairs of socks, underpants, shirts, etc, to keep warm, so clothes were at a premium. An electrical immersion heater was a popular item to have to keep warm with one's feet in a tub of hot water. Mine was pinched.

Another typhoon was approaching, the isobars shown on the weather chart were close together when I showed the chart to the navigator. Heavy winds created waves which were slowly moving the bows up and down. The order came quickly to raise steam at one hour's notice to get under way. Heavier squalls created a need for the cable party to again veer to eight shackles and a constant anchor watch was kept. These storms came and disappeared quickly because the next day, 6 October, was calm and we participated in whaler and cutter races to create some excitement. I cannot remember who won, but I did regret opening my big mouth and saying I used to row in racing eights in the head of the river schools' regatta. Cutters and whalers did not have sliding seats but it created an interest for some of us as well as a slightly scuffed and sore backside.

CPO Joe Beverley took us sailing in the whaler for training as well as an interest, and later, allowed some of us to take advantage of our newly acquired skills to sail alone on the waters of Tokyo Bay. He later gave us time to venture ashore at Yokohama to look about, hoping to get some souvenirs from the Japanese. The silk pyjamas found and rolls of silk bartered for, didn't last long and nimble sticky fingers of the 'have nots' soon made them disappear. I personally arrived home with one pair of pyjamas out of six from my trip to the Yokohama wharf. Others found a Japanese man-o'-war flag. The pastime of sailing was in great demand but the waiting list became very long and only a few groups were fortunate enough to enjoy an afternoon's sailing because on the 9th, at the end of the middle watch, I again reported the weather chart was indicating strong winds were approaching as the bottom was falling out of the barometer - I predicted a typhoon. These regular intervals of forecast bad weather made sailing opportunities irregular. At 0530 steam was again raised for one hour's notice to move and an anchor watch was set.

The typhoon was approaching on the 10th and although we were on the fringe, the winds were gusting to 60 knots. The waves were rising and sheets of spray were flying over our bows and were painful to anyone foolish enough to be standing there. By 1200 on the 11th the storm had abated and the ship reverted to normal notice.

We sailed for Wakayama at 1300 on 12 October and arrived in Wanakoora Bay at 1530 next day in company with HMS Wizard (Max Farrell was still aboard Wizard awaiting his fast trip to Sydney). We left Wakayama (Wanakoora Bay) on the 22nd and returned to Tokyo Bay to refuel after a pleasant sojourn for some of the more fortunate members of the crew who got ashore and toured the town.

On the 26th October, and most of us said 'about time', the Apollo returned from Australia and came alongside with stores and most of all, beer supplies. Next day, the 27th, whilst alongside, a crate or two (each crate held four dozen bottles) of beer were broken (or broken open) and some of our crew proceeded to get an early start on the beer issue (two bottles per man). This caused a hue and cry but when an RN type kicked one of our sailors in the face after a minor fracas, all hell broke loose.

Captain Nichols in his wisdom ordered the slipping of Apollo and all sailors left aboard were charged with being adrift. Well, I cannnot remember clearly the end result but I know we got our beer supplies and some unhappy sailors were saying uncomplimentary things about our skipper. They were wrong and he was right, regardless of how or who started it. For those who read this, KR and AI always took the view that both participants were to be punished, although we never heard what happened to the Apollo crew involved in the incident. At 1200 a make-and-mend was given to the crew. It was during this episode that our commodore was ashore at the British Embassy, returning to Shropshire on
29 October.

On the 30th Commodore Collins inspected his flagship and was pleased to note the progress towards peace time appearance and cleanliness. The appearance was changing with obvious signs of polished brassware everywhere but 'cleanliness' - after visiting King George V, HMAS Shropshire was a glistening jewel in comparison. As our time in Japan as part of the Occupation Forces was drawing to a close and to some degree boredom setting in, reminiscing became part of the conversation as opposed to 'What are you going to take on after discharge'.

Some of the stories related to me are worth telling: For example, one of our older members 'Otto' had a problem as a young seaman in putting words together and understanding instructions. True or false the more humorous but slightly perverse phrases he was supposed to have used included: irritating a revenue of tree; requesting passionate leave because his wife was stagnant; being told to lay aft to the quarterdeck and turning in his hammock, and to lie with his head aft, and last but not least, offering his services as an interpreter when a call came over the loud speaker for someone who spoke Italian. When asked to demonstrate his skill in the Italian language he said 'Gooda da day, I speaka da Dago'. The best is always last - whilst walking in the Sydney Domain and looking at and being told it was a sundial and it could tell the time he said 'what will they think of next!'

Some of those sayings are today enshrined in Tasmania's Shropshire's Park at Ulverstone as well as an endearing sign over the BBQ area called 'Otto's Grotto' which was to honour this popular old salt. CPO Otto Smith - he was one of the few not afraid to hop in and work with the men when things needed doing in a hurry. For example, the day some clown left a scuttle open as we rolled into a huge wave in the China Sea typhoon - the force of the water was like several fire hydrants being turned on at once and all cafeteria trays and food as well as men were washed into a heap. While the dry members were laughing he acted and pulled men from under this great heap of bodies and goo as if they were feathers - a compassionate person at heart. Other times whilst ammunitioning ship he hopped in until the job was completed, loading the 8" projectiles which most of us had trouble rolling on their ends let alone lifting (they weighed 256lb) .

You may remember that the sayings 'Eating at Otto's' or 'Collins Colossal Cafeteria' were often used by sailors, however, I suggest, it might have been more fitting, for all the work he put into the cafeteria proposal as opposed to a messing system - that we should have added a third title 'Bracegirdle's Bistro' although having sampled the Shropshire food for about just over two years 'Otto's Grotto' should win the sailors' vote hands down. Tom Slaven, always called 'Slazenger' (after the well known tennis racquet) by the chief, was one of the well known cafeteria slaves and someone suggested in jest that the racquet should have been spelt 'racket', as cafeteria staff always seemed to get the choice serves, but why not - it was an extremely hot place to eat, let alone to work keeping it clean, after three times a day, 1000 men rushed through using the facilities, especially when all scuttles were closed because of rough weather and between dusk and dawn.

Stewards George Wellington and Ron Russell, original draftees to Shropshire, were always to the fore in talking about the role of Shropshire during her 1943-1945 days attached to the US 7th Fleet. I am sure because of their close association with the officers, their knowledge was far greater about what occurred than those fellows pulling the triggers of the CRW, or pushing the death dealing buttons of the main armament - Ron Russell was one of Shropshire's best known wartime sketch artists, as can be seen in our publication Port Hole, and later in the special edition of Shropshire Times he was also joined by another of our humorous artists AB 'Doc' Livingstone, who used AB Joe 'Springs' Langton as his model. The humorous collection of stories by Bob Boyd will one day be worth having (or so he says).

AB Bill Orr also tells his role as 'captain' of the Key Board Flat situated just outside the commander's cabin and always having to be immaculately attired, in the dress of the day and 'real pusser' in carrying out the duties of the job. Bill Orr's action station was in the shell room of 'Y' turret working two hydraulic levers as instructed by Leading Seaman E. 'Bonk' Newitt to help shift the heavy 8'' shells to the shell handling room, where others like Gordon Urquhart were hard at it, perspiring profusely, as were Dave Harris and friends sealed off below in the cordite handling room. It was not well known, but in the case of being hit, the cordite handling rooms were the first sealed off and to be flooded if the ship was in danger of exploding. Not much joy for the seamen even with the little extra 'danger' money paid to them. The young never think it is going to be their turn to die.

We did start to enjoy happier days in Tokyo Bay from this time even though the ship was cooling down and the weather becoming colder. Captain Nichols was able to enjoy sailing his 'skiff' on Tokyo Bay. This small sailing craft was built by our shipwrights for the captain in their spare time it was a gift to our longest serving skipper and an appreciation of his service as Captain of Shropshire and one time officer commanding the Australian Squadron during the dark days of the Philippines liberation campaign.

Commodore Collins was spending more time ashore as our days of being part of the Occupation Forces were drawing to a close. In the course of his duties he visited General of the Army, Douglas MacArthur (Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers SCAP); General R.L. Eichelberger (Commanding General 8th Army); Colonel Hardy (Commanding Officer, Far Eastern Air Force); Admiral Spruance (Commander 5th Fleet); Vice Admiral Wilkinson (Commander 5th Amphibious Force) and Rear-Admiral Ballantine (US Pacific Fleet Liaison Officer to SCAP), as well as entertaining many staff officers in his residence in the grounds of the British Embassy.

Early in October it was requested that Australian ships crews in Japan be provided with sheepskin jackets as the cold was setting in. We were more than surprised when the signal came advising of their despatch from Australia. The arrival of only sixty-five jackets for use of watchkeepers, was, to say the least, a 'bloody insult'. Many voices were heard to say so especially when we remembered that Australia provided thousands for the Russian Army. Aussie humour prevailed in the end and fewer and fewer showers were taken thus saving fresh water. More (if available) shirts and socks were worn - snow was falling intermittently on our decks to melt before it could collect - there were no snowball fights or snowmen, just slush.

The 1st November 1945 started with the Australian Squadron being split up: Shropshire at anchor in Tokyo Bay, Bataan alongside at Tokyo, Arunta on convoying duties whilst Hobart and Warramunga were on leave in Sydney. An announcement, a day of expectancy to profit - a Melbourne Cup gathering, which was eventually cancelled, was that Shropshire was to visit Shanghai before we left for Australia, but due to the long delays in agreeing to our request by the Chinese Government, the visit could not be arranged. We embarked some AIF passengers captured by Japanese in Singapore on the same day that HMS Ariadne sailed in company with HMS Thracian and Fort Providence came along- side to discharge fresh provisions, canteen supplies and naval stores.

On 6 November at 0455 the selected leave party of ratings left for one of Japan's favourite holiday resorts, Nikko. They had forty-eight hours leave at what was now called the 8th Army Rest Centre. The officers in the main travelled to resort centres opened by the US Army at Myonoshita or Yumoto. The local conditions, especially food shortages, required all groups to take food and plenty of warm clothing.

Apollo and Fort Providence arrived at Tokyo Bay on the 12th to unload more stores and sailed the next day, the 13th. She was indeed performing an excellent duty as a very fast store ship between Australia and Japan. Statistics for Shropshire as at 30 November 1945 are as follows: distance travelled 97408.41 miles since 17/4/1943 at an average speed of 14.44 knots. I reported the weather was closing in on us again as the isobars were close together and wind strengths increasing. Steam was again raised for one hour's notice as well as the anchor watch closing up. The weather soon cleared enabling preparations for our departure to be finalised.

Hobart returned to Tokyo Bay and came alongside on 17 November to enable the commodore's broad pendant to be transferred from Shropshire at sunset. During the forenoon of the 17th Arunta entered Tokyo Bay and sailed close by. To my surprise I saw in her cable party one of my old school friends whom I had not seen for about a year. He was AB John Ward, my old headmaster's son. He was, sad to say, to die in Tokyo a couple of days later. I remember the message over our loudspeaker system asking for those who knew him to report to the 'Sin Bos'n'. Able Seaman Ward was buried in Japan.

Though it is not recorded in the ship's log, captain's or commodore's monthly reports, ex-crew members have said they visited Hiroshima in a small leave party of thirty to view the devastation. (It may have been during the second visit to Japan. All of these small leave party groups of about thirty to go ashore visited special areas such as Nikko, etc, and were selected by ballot. Apart from some lazy members of the crew everyone had the opportunity of at least two or three visits ashore in Tokyo apart from 'illegal' visits whilst sailing.

On 18 November 1945 at 0700 Shropshire sailed from Yokohama clearing the breakwater at 0705 with Bataan in company and ahead of us. We cleared Tokyo Bay at 0940 under way at 16 knots. On the 20th we passed Iwo Jima (midway) through the middle watch. At 0205 - it was just a dark blob, although lights could be seen ashore with powerful binoculars. Two days later, on the 22nd, we passed Guam Harbour at midnight. After breakfast we transferred mail to Bataan whilst under way, reducing speed to 6 knots - the sea between the two ships was once again an unhealthy cauldron of white foaming water.

Bataan was detached on the 23rd at 0530 and ordered to Manus to refuel. In the meantime our crew were busily erecting all the paraphernalia and dunking pool for the crossing of the line ceremony. The captain was approached by King Neptune's representative, the Herald, Chief Petty Officer Davies, and informed that he and his retinue would tomorrow, the 24th, initiate all those to his domain.

Before the day was over our marksmen were once again called out to sink an unidentified object - and as we approached closer it was found to be a fishing net buoy. Our riflemen were unable to sink it, accompanied by the usual ribald remarks, couldn't hit the side of a barn, and give us a go, etc.

At 0900 on the 24th King Neptune (Commander (E) Armitage); Queen Neptuna (Lieutenant Gregory - a delicious drop); The Judge (Surgeon Lieutenant Kerr-Grant); The Crier (Chief Petty Officer Harper); The Barber (Chief Petty Officer Smith); The Nurse (AB Kerwan); The Doctor (Sick Berth Petty Officer Marden); were led by the Herald with a fanfare of trumpets supplied by our bandsmen, followed up by a growling, yelling nasty bunch of ruffians (definitely not in the rig of the day) who were to see no one escaped a complete and proper powdering and dunking.

There were some special awards made: Captain Nichols - Honorary Membership and Order of Tokyo Ball (the ruffians were not game to dunk the Captain); Commander Morrow - Order of the Busted Buzz; Commander White - Order of the Crooked Yen; Lieutenant-Commander Cooper - Order of the One Way Street. Congratulations were given to all who made the ceremony possible, shipwrights and their helpers who erected the pool and other instruments of torture on the starboard side. A magnificent certificate (very large) indicating to all initiates of King Neptune's domain was drawn in colour by bandsmen Cedric Ashton ably assisted by Jim Wilkinson.

On the 24th Bataan rejoined astern of us at 1240 and both ships were directed at 1330 to proceed to Wewak to embark members of the AIF. Later we were also instructed to proceed to Madang. At 0700, 25 November, we arrived at Wewak and embarked thirty-seven officers, eighty-two NCOs and 468 ORs and left for Sydney at 1000 at a speed of 18 knots. Before leaving we saw the Japanese cruiser Kashima arrive at 0900 to repatriate Japanese POWs to Japan. The ship's daily routine became a little more relaxed with this large number of 'swaddies' to look after. All the crew hopped in and took under their wing a 'lost' soldier. In the beginning the Army thought and said what a good perk we sailors had - canteen, cafeteria, bakery, galley, etc, etc, until we were out of sight of land and rolling ever so slightly. They soon changed their minds.

Russell Cribb from South Australia was my responsibility throughout the trip to Sydney and for many years later.

On the 27th steaming at a slightly decreased and more economic speed of 16 knots everything felt good, the ship's routine pleasant, soldiers everywhere; most having gained their sea legs. Captain Nichols decided to give them a demonstration of the fire power of our pompoms and Bofors by shooting at small parachute targets. The next day we dumped hundreds of tons of weathered 4" shells, Bofor and pompom ammunition at a depth of 1500 fathoms.

We increased speed slightly on the 30th to 17 knots. We signalled Warramunga at 0030 as she steamed northbound and again increased speed to 19 knots. We sighted Bataan who stationed herself one mile ahead of us. We had increased speed for two reasons, one to make our Estimated Time of Arrival (ETA) at the oil wharf, Garden Island spot on, and secondly, to allow the LCI, coxswained by AB Ron Key, to be lowered just as we entered the Heads. It travelled to Watsons Bay with some 'goods' aboard and after unloading, the LCI followed to rejoin Shropshire at Garden Island to take the place of our lost pinnace. The ship's band was playing as we came alongside at 1130 on 30th November 1945 and immediately commenced disembarking our AIF 'shipmates'. Bataan secured alongside our starboard side.

As said earlier, not knowing the actual tonnage of ammunition we dumped overboard on 28 November, Shropshire fully loaded would have been well over 15 000 tons had we counted the shells dumped and included the dead weight of the 587 swotties and their equipment of 500 tons. In Sydney, as at 1 December 1845 it was calculated to be 14 875 tons.

Just prior to coming alongside, the usual warning about taking contraband ashore was issued. It was quite humorous seeing sailors, including myself, moving quite guiltily to the guard rails and letting postcards and various ornaments go over the side. We found out later very few if any had their bags checked for foreign articles. It was amazing how some ratings were able to conceal live ammunition and get it ashore. 4'' shell and brass cases weighing 100 lb were carried off as if they weighed but a few pounds. The dumping of live ammunition overboard made it quite a simple task for those stupid enough to take the chance of acquiring these life-threatening souvenirs. The usual females were offering friendship from small boats and the usual seaman made arrangements for later liaisons.

Surprisingly large numbers were more concerned about shore leave and at best getting a much needed feed of fresh vegetables and cold meats. The usual group of sailors, myself, Urquhart, Harris, Scully, Pitman and Muhlhan went ashore and purchased large quantities of fresh food and returned for a feast in the weather office on the starboard side of the bridge. On the way south things were not quite so rosy, my boss, Commander Mesley, visited the meteorologist's office to find eight sailors and four soldiers smoking, etc. He bawled me out saying clean this place up, it smells like a bloody bear pit and even though our sheltered existence was shattered we had to agree with this description.

Early in December the first party of the ship's company went on leave for twenty-one days and when they returned the remainder of the crew left for their twenty-one days leave during the weekend 29-30 1945.

Our executive officer commander 'Ginger' Morrow had 'his' jeep constantly attended to by his 'chief motor mechanic' Lieutenant (E) John Shearing and his stoker mechanics during our cruise south, and kept it well tuned as they drove it backwards and forwards around the torpedo space. The 'acquired' vehicle was put ashore at Garden Island never to be seen again! The rumour suggested the navy took it into its custody for their use!

On 8 January 1946 Shropshire was towed from Garden Island Oil Wharf by tugs to Sutherland Dock, Cockatoo Island. She was to undergo hull inspection, painting and repairs to the propeller shafting. Nine days later she unlocked and was again towed by tugs to the Garden Island oil wharf where some minor repairs were being made while we stored ship ready for sea. Considerable crew changes were being made to the ship's complement.

Lieutenant Commander H.A.E. Cooper left Shropshire on 21 December and later on 14 January 1946 Lieutenant Roberts joined with Sub-Lieutenant Greg Bartels who had just completed his OTS training. Ordinary Seaman Bartels had left Shropshire some months earlier for the Officers' Training School and it was a little surprising that he had been appointed to his old ship Shropshire considering his time aboard as a member of the lower deck fraternity.

Many interesting ships entered and left harbour. They included King George V with the Duke of Gloucester on board, HMS Glory, Westralia and Kanimbla, two of our LSIs HMAS Koala, Burdekin, Launceston and Gascoyne who served with us during the Philippines campaign; HMAS Bermuda, Vegeance, Birmingham and Berwick entered. Berwick was the first of the Kent class (County) 8'' gun heavy cruisers and had short funnels fitted - they were quickly heightened due to the smoke spread creating very poor visibility abaft the bridge. Also with a following wind, funnel gases were dangerous to those on the bridge.

On 21 January 1946 the peaceful calm of the keyboard flat adjacent to the captain's flat was shattered by a sudden unexpected flooding and the 'captain' of the keyboard flat, Able Seaman Billy Orr was quickly involved in dodging members of the damage control team as they mopped up the hundreds of gallons of water that had poured into the area. The keys were his worry - 'never let 'em out of your sight' was the strict rule. Ratings and officers were being discharged continually and others were coming on board.

At 1315 on 2 February, Captain Nichols ordered 'clear lower deck' and we assembled on the quarterdeck where he spoke to the crew outlining the proposals for the next tour of duty to visit Melbourne, Hobart and a visit of great interest to most, to enter Westernport Bay and go ashore at Flinders Naval Depot. For most of us, our old stamping and training grounds, and going 'up the line' once a fortnight. During the forenoon of 3 February, sixty-two cadet midshipmen came on board for seagoing training.

A general comment should be made here about accommodation for sailors in and around Sydney. Whilst there were several places offering 'cyclone' gate type beds and shakedowns (pillow and two blankets) for late arrivals the most well known was Royal Navy House or 'Johnnies' situated in Grosvenor Street off George Street and built during the latter part of the 19th Century. It could bunk down over 800 sailors with another 600 or more paying for the shakedowns. In fact it was recorded in January 1946 that nearly 1500 sailors were in the building; some sleeping on the corrugated iron roof, suffering the inclement weather to avoid the mustiness and smells in the overcrowded conditions below. However, few complained at the one shilling a night charge.

Apart from the usual facilities and amenities offered, the most notorious was the 'snake pit', an area originally used as a very large light well but converted into a drinking bar. The customary drinking process was to 'buy' a dozen glasses in a carton for ten shillings deposit; fill them up with beer and find a corner and drink until contentment or otherwise set in. The 'otherwise' usually related to bad behaviour by those who could not take the quantity of beer they attempted to consume, giving the area the bad name 'snake pit'.

There were hundreds of private homes opened for servicemen to just visit for friendship or play sport and in a lot of cases overnight stays offered. As well many quite suitable hotels offered multi-bed rooms to keep costs down. In fact if one looked for it and took care to choose correctly and be wary, entertainment was always around the corner and if in trouble help was usually close by - so on most occasions no one had to be lonely.