To hell and back

Albert Lamond saw theatres of battle in the Atlantic, the Arctic and on D-Day - in treks even Churchill and Stalin baulked at

- BY ANNA BURNSIDE

ALBERT Lamond watched D-Day unfold through a telescope.

The signalman was up on the bridge of his ship, HMS Rowley, as the troops landed on the Normandy beaches.

Now 100, he will never forget seeing the turning point of the war through what sailors called a “cruising glass” - a telescope fitted on to a rotating bracket. He had a 360 view of the men trying to get ashore.

“It wasn't very nice. So that was that.”

HMS Rowley’s job was a crucial one. The frigate circled and protected the battleship HMS Warspite.

She was one of two battleships off the Normandy coast, shelling the German positions while the 150,000 Allied troops landed.

Albert and the crew moved constantly, keeping a lookout for U-Boats that might have been trying to torpedo the Warspite.

If they spotted an enemy submarine, the Rowley would move into position and take the torpedo to protect the Warspite.

As a 19-year-old, the seaman didn't fully realise the danger he faced. “I was too young to feel frightened”.

To the relief of his family, back home in Glasgow's east end, he survived to tell the tale.

Albert joined the navy by default - he knew he wanted to serve but didn't fancy the Army or RAF. One of his friends was trying for the Signals - a crucial service, passing messages between ships and the forces on the shore.

The pal was rejected - he was colourblind. Young Albert, with his perfect 20-20 vision, passed the stringent tests and was in.

He left his job at a tobacconist shop and headed off to sea. It was 1942 and he was just 17 years old.