Leonard Abrams – My Dad

My father, Leonard Abrams would have been 100 years of age on 7 May 2022. To commemorate his life and my gratitude to the best father anyone could wish for I have decided to try to write his back story. It is probably also the back story of hundreds of British men and women who fought in WWII and who have fought to protect our freedom before and since. Thus his story, although personal to me is dedicated to all of those brave souls or as dad would say ‘better men than me, gungadin!’

According to the 1911 Census a child of 6 years of age named Florence Maud Abrams lived in a tenement in the East End of London with her mother, father, and two other sisters.

By the 1921 Census Florence was 16 years of age and working. However, my father was born out of wedlock on 7 May the following year, 1922, to Florence Abrams, paper bag stringer in the borough of St George in the East. He was born in the Mission of Hope in South Croydon, a home for unmarried mothers to have their children and for the children to be offered for adoption. The Mission of Hope, like many of its kind at this time in the UK offered a safe, albeit strict Christian home for woman away from the stigma of an unwanted or out of wedlock pregnancy.

There was little regulation on adoption until the 1970s so childless couples had the good fortune to find a suitable child. However, girls were more popular and boys not so.

There are no further records of Florence until her death in 1969. It seems she never married or had other children.

To the best of my knowledge, Dad stayed with the Mission of Hope attending a school in Purley until he was handed over in October 1936 at the age of 14 to Shaftesbury Homes and the Royal Naval Training ship, Arethusa. He remained there until November 1937 when he joined the Royal Navy as a boy rating. Life on the Arethusa suited him as he grew 2 inches in height, put on 25lbs in weight and added 2 and half inches to his chest!! He was awarded a prize in woodwork and his character was recorded as ‘very good’. He kept the skill for woodwork all his life as he would whittle objects from a piece of wood with an old bone handled knife and often made items like boxes – one of which I still own that he made for Mum.

In 1937, Dad found himself on HMS Ganges, the Boys Training establishment, Shotley then to HMS Iron Duke in Portsmouth. He was a ‘boy telegraphist’. His first ‘real’ ships were cruisers, HMS Effingham and HMS Hawkins. He was rated as Boy class, 1 and 2.

He then joined the HMS Resource, a fleet repair ship out in the Mediterranean before joining the HMS Warspite.

Coastal Forces

Coastal Forces had been formed in late 1940 to defend coastal convoys and attack those of the enemy using torpedo boats, motor gunboats and motor launches. From June 1943 he was assigned to the Naval Base HMS Mosquito (a.k.a Nile) based in Alexandria, Haifa, Beirut, Bhenghazi and Port Said. They were operating on some extremely dangerous missions mostly at night on Harbour Defence Motor Launches and Motor Torpedo Boats. Two of mention are HML 1158 and MTB 2015 (formerly MTB 515). He was rated Coastal Forces Coxswain.

HDML 1158 formed part of the 113th ML Flotilla, which along with others is noted in the Admiralty Red List for December 1944 as being operated and administered by Coastal Forces Mediterranean. Certain of the MLs in the Mediterranean intersected with the work of Special Forces and the like, launching raids, or helping to liberate the various occupied islands of the Aegean.

It is now only just being recognised the contribution the crews of the Light Coastal Forces brought to the war however the two awards earned by Dad go some way to illustrating the bravery of men him. His first award of Mention in Dispatches was in relation to a serious fire onboard one of the boats in harbour at Beirut.

Petty Officer Leonard ABRAMS Service No: P/JX 155834 HDML 1158 Mention in Despatches: For brave service in firefighting when one of H.M. Motor Launches caught fire.

London Gazette: 19th December 1944

A full account of the incident is provided by the citation—also published in the London Gazette—for the posthumous award of the Albert Medal, for saving life at sea, to Lieutenant Douglas Mortimer Connor RNVR on ML 387.

On 5th March, 1944, fire broke out in the starboard corner of the engine room of one of H.M. Motor Launches at Beirut. An explosion occurred immediately afterwards and the fire spread rapidly throughout the ship. Lieutenant Connor straightway organised all the fire-fighting gear on board and sent a runner to inform Coastal Forces base and Naval Base so that the civilian and Naval fire-fighting organisation might be got into action as soon as possible. The heat from the burning ship was intense and it was well known that with the burning high octane petrol the ship was likely to blow up at any moment. The burning ship was a grave menace to other shipping berthed alongside and Lieutenant Connor made valiant efforts to make fast a tow line so that she could be towed out of the port. So great was the heat, however, that the tow line parted. At about 19.15 a third and more violent explosion occurred in which Lieutenant Connor lost his life. Lieutenant Connor well knew the risks involved, but sacrificed his life in an endeavour to prevent the spread of the fire which might well have become a major conflagration involving the loss of many lives.

London Gazette: 19th December 1944

The second award that my father was so proud of, was the Distinguished Service Medal.

Petty Officer Leonard ABRAMS Service No: P/JX 155834 HDML 1158 Distinguished Service Medal For distinguished service, efficiency and zeal whilst serving in…Light Coastal Forces, in the clearance of the Aegean and the relief of Greece during the period 1944-1945.

London Gazette: 14th August 1945

No person’s story would be complete without a story of shipmates – the people that the armed forces fought shoulder to shoulder with for months on end and became ‘family’. One such friendship was Ken Bevis, Petty Officer P/JX154966. From what I understand they had gone through training together and were together until, I believe, 1943. Ken sent dad a letter dated 22 April 1944 which found him at HMS Mosquito. The letter was a newsy one asking about Dad’s girlfriend at the time, Eve and telling him he was up at Anzio and how he missed being with his ‘partner in crime’ and ‘Us Special Forces blokes’. The letter with a photo enclosed was his last and Dad received it after Ken had been killed. He was killed at the Elba Landings on 17 June 1944 and is buried at Bolsena War Cemetery, Italy. He was mentioned in Dispatches posthumously — he was 22 years of age.

Dad served with Coastal Forces on Motor Torpedo Boats and Motor Launches until March 1945 when he returned to the Coastal Forces base, HMS Hornet, at Gosport.

Post-War Naval Career

The day after his 23rd birthday on 8 May the war in Europe ended – VE Day. May 9th commemorates the surrender of Russia.

Dad was a Petty Officer by this time and was at Haslar until March 1947. He served at HMS Hornet, HMS Bruce, and HMS Victory

A quote from an RN Forum: I met an RN-Coastal Forces Veteran way back who had been an engine room throttle jockey on similar craft. The engine room often swimming with petrol due to vibrations at pipe joints. He survived one hit/explosion/sinking but his kid brother wasn’t so lucky. He went on to become a Lion Tamer. Truly brave. The Battle of the Narrow Seas by Peter Scott is a first-hand account of the Coastal Forces private and very vicious war.

Whilst based at HMS Victory in Portsmouth Dad met Mum. She was from Dungarvan, County Waterford in Southern Ireland and was a nurse at Queen Alexander Hospital in Portsmouth. I do not know what happened to Eve, his previously mentioned girl-friend, but I do know I am glad he met mum! She was Mary Murray (known by her family as Alice).

They fell in love and married at St Josephs Church in Copnor, Portsmouth on 29 July 1950. They spent their honeymoon in Jersey.

They lived in a flat in Southsea, Dad was stationed for a while in Bramcote and Mum would visit him when she could.

He was then posted to HMS Zodiac, said to be his favourite ship until April 1953.

My brother was born in January 1953. In August 1953 Dad was posted to Malta and Mum and Bernard joined him there. He was stationed at HMS Ricasoli, Phoenecia. Mum, Dad and Bernard lived in Kalkara – a place where mum said were some of their most happy and carefree days. Dad was a Chief Petty Officer and they had a wonderful time there. I visited Malta with Mum many years later the beautiful house and island that gave such happy times. (They named their house in Southampton ‘Kalkara’ after those days).

Mum, Dad and Bernard returned to UK in 1955. Dad, after a further posting back at HMS Victory was transferred to the Royal Naval Emergency Reserve (Special List) and left the regulars to join ‘civvy street’. He worked for the GPO and was the voice of the ‘Speaking Clock’ at one point! I was born in Southsea, their first permanent home in September 1956. Dad loved his life in the Royal Naval and had found a family and comrade ship that civilian life never quite gave.

However, he and Mum were in love and happy. They were the best parents who gave us, as Dad would say everything he never had as a child — we were 'his legacy to this life’. I had the best childhood holidaying in Hayling Island in a caravan, flying to the Channel Islands, spending long summers in Ireland with our aunts, uncles and cousins. Dad taught us to swim in the sea and to love and respect it as he did.

Dad got promoted in 1963 and we moved to Southampton to a house with a garden complete with an air raid shelter!! They loved the house so much and so did we — our own bedrooms, a large garden and still not too far from the sea.

Dad developed Rheumatoid arthritis which they said was caused from blood poisoning after shrapnel wounds he suffered on HMS Warspite. We will never know. But he was often in a lot of pain with his joints but never complained and offered himself and his love to us all completely. He did not suffer fools but offered the advice of a sage that I still miss to this day.