6. The saga of H.H.M.S. ADRIAS

While fighting in the area of the Dodecanese Islands on the night

of the 22nd October 1943 the destroyer ADRIAS (L67) was seriously

damaged by a mine but refused to sink.

Under the command of Commander John Toumbas the ship covered a

distance of approximately 700 nautical miles, reaching the port of

Alexandria in Egypt on the eve of the feast of Saint Nicholas, the

patron saint of all seamen.

The Greek Minister of the Navy Sofoclis Venizelos, and the

British Admiral in command of the Royal Navy in the Eastern

Mediterranean, provided an honorary escort for the brave little ship

that had refused to die. A few months later the snub-nosed L67 joined

the fleet of 100 vessels of all sorts which sailed to Greece for the

Liberation.

The photographs were taken by the author (with the exception of

the damaged L67) who travelled back to Greece on H.H.M.S. AVEROF in

the same convoy. The photograph of L84, a similar type destroyer to

ADRIAS shows how much of her bows was blown off by the collision with

the mine.

(H.H.M.S. stands for His Hellenic Majesty's Ship.)

7. German sabotage at the Cable & Wireless station at Pallini, Greece,

in World War II.

As the German army was pulling out of Greece in October 1944 its

engineers carried out extensive sabotage to installations of a

strategic value. At Pallini, not far from Athens, an attempt was made

to destroy the transmitter hall by dropping one of the antenna towers

onto it, but the equipment was not damaged.

They were more successful at the Royal Navy transmitting site at

Votanikos. Here they tried to destroy six 300 foot tubular masts.

One remained standing and also the lower part of another. All the

test gear in the lab was thrown out of a second floor window and

burnt. I was acting as official photographer for my unit at the time.

When I walked into a small store room I saw all the equipment had been

thrown off the shelves on to the floor, but appeared to be intact. I

spotted a box of brand new packed German navy morse keys and decided

the time had come for me to acquire a small war trophy of my own. As

I bent down to pick up a key, I was horrified to see two large sticks

of gelignite perched perilously on the edge of a shelf. The explosive

was tied with white ribbon, with a weight attached to the other end.

I froze to the spot. Gingerly I lifted my trophy out of the box and

began to walk slowly backwards, being very careful not to knock

anything over. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was out of the room

and immediately alerted the engineers who came and defused the booby

trap. So this book might never have been written thanks to the German

army.

At the Athens broadcasting station transmitter site at Liosia my

unit erected a small temporary 'T' antenna which allowed the station

to come on the air again, but a short time later, when the ELAS

guerrillas overran the area they began using the transmitter to

broadcast their own view of events. We provided the broadcasting

authority with a BC 610 mobile transmitter installed next to the

Parliament building in the centre of town, using the same frequency of

610 KHz. Listeners in Cairo couldn't understand what was going on

when one moment they heard an official government announcement and a

little later a war communique issued by the Communist guerrillas.

The Dawn of Amateur Radio in the U.K. and Greece: A Personal View · 第 59 / 60 题