The "Castries Caper"
- or -
Aid to a Colonial Power

As far as I know, this is the first time that the events recorded here have ever been made public. Certainly, I cannot remember any mention in the press, on radio or television of the Canadian participation in assisting the British Colonial authorities in the control of a strike and possible riot by plantation workers on the island of St. Lucia in the spring of 1957. I therefore hope these revelations will not engender another Le Tourneau inquisition, or similar enquiry.

1957 is a long time ago. We had nice blue uniforms, sailed under the White Ensign, played hard, worked hard, and the emasculation of the armed forces commenced by Mr. Hellyer and since successfully completed by subsequent governments, was but a distant bad dream.

The recollections recorded here are my own, and are therefore subject to overemphasis in some areas - particularly my own glorious part - and de-emphasis in others. I have intentionally not discussed in detail my recollections with other officers who were present, in the hope they might initiate some enlightening, and perhaps humorous correspondence.

In the spring of 1957, HMCS Micmac (DDE214), under the command of Cdr. L. B. "Yogi" Jenson in conjunction with the 1st Canadian Destroyer Squadron commander, Capt. D. W. Piers, DSC, were exercising in the Caribbean. One of our R&R visits was to La Guira, the seaport for the capital "Caracas" of Venezuela - very good run ashore!

On clearing La Guira, we proceeded to Tobago for more R&R and to recover from our R&R in La Guira. From Tobago, a small group of us sailed a whaler to our next port of call, Grenada, which I understand was at that time, the longest distance that a Canadian whaler had sailed on the open ocean. We were visiting Grenada for the same reason we visited Tobago, but with an increase by the power of one.

The whaler - I was nominally in charge - entered Grenada at first light and secured alongside. We had only barely commenced sampling the sights and many smells, when Micmac hove in sight flashing all sorts of lights and flying all sorts of signals, all completely indecipherable to us. However, we gathered that we were to report back on board, which we did. I reported to the CO who seemed not in the least bit interested in our hazardous transoceanic voyage, but who informed me I was the Operations Officer, that the Squadron Commander had ordered us to proceed to Castries, the port for, and capital of St. Lucia, with dispatch (a minimum of 30 knots as interpreted by "Yogi"). We were to assist the civil authorities in keeping order in view of a strike and possible riot by the banana plantation workers.

In 1957, St. Lucia was part of the Windward Islands, a British Colony governed by a London-appointed Governor, aided by some form of local council. Prior to WWII, a requirement involving aid to a civil power would be supplied by a unit of the British West Indies Fleet. Postwar however, the West Indies Fleet consisted of one old frigate which was supposedly in refit in Bermuda, but which was in fact (I believe) doing the cocktail circuit in the North Caribbean, and would not be available for some time. Hence us!

On arrival in St. Lucia, the CO waited on the Governor. Shortly thereafter, a "council of war" was held in the wardroom. "Yogi" informed us of the situation which basically was that there was no immediate danger as all the strikers were up in the hills behind the town; that they had a plentiful supply of rum and were having a merry old time! The crisis would likely come when the rum ran out, as it would in any well-ordered HMC ship.

It was decided that the ship's company would be formed into three companies of approximately forty men each. Lt. Robin Jones (anti-submarine officer), Lt. Bruce Pakenham (gunnery officer) and myself, would each have a company on a rotational, stand-by duty. Small arms, sten guns, rifles and ammunition were made ready and each officer was issued a very large pistol.

It may at this juncture be worthwhile to try and explain why the labour relations in St. Lucia had deteriorated to such a perilous condition.

In the first place, the workers were paid a mere pittance and lived under pretty appalling conditions. Secondly, it was rumoured that some of the plantation owners were wont to take their pleasures with the young daughters of the workers as they came of age. Mommies and daddies were therefore, a mite upset. In addition, exactly fifty years earlier in 1907, a similar strike had occurred followed by a riot. Order was not restored until a goodly number of rioters had been killed.

About this time we also had a meeting with the Chief of Police to thrash out in some detail, exactly what our duties and responsibilities would be. It was decided that we would be responsible for providing security for the police station and the post office, and generally to prevent entry into the town should the situation warrant. If was also decided that Mid. Pat Crofton, who already had been made a special aid to the Governor and issued a smart swagger stick, would take charge of additional police forces (few in number) that would arrive from Grenada.

The main street of Castries commences at the jetty to which we were secured, runs for about half a mile straight inland, then takes a curve of approximately 60 degrees to the right into the hills, forest, and never-never land. The police station was situated on the left just prior to the curve in the road. It was set back about thirty feet with a wall surrounding and painted a hideous shade of yellow.

The situation remained static for a few days and then early on Sunday morning (there is some doubt about the day), a phone call was received from the CO who was ashore with the Governor, informing us that the critical moment had arrived - no more rum! The strikers were amassing and about to enter town. We were immediately to land our armed party and take up our preassigned station. It was my turn in the "barrel." The armed company was issued weapons, ammunition and mustered on the jetty. In the meantime I was struggling to secure a large pistol to my right thigh, and having done so gave myself a permanent list to starboard.

Just as I was going over the side, SLt. Russ Wilcox (communications officer) came running and showed me an Operational Immediate - secret message that he had just deciphered. It was from Naval Headquarters in Ottawa (we had our own then). The text of the message read: "NO - REPEAT NO - ARMED FORCE TO BE LANDED WITHOUT PRIOR AUTHORITY OF THIS HEADQUARTERS."

Here we were, already fallen in on the jetty with enough ammunition to kill every living creature on that island two or three times over! We immediately tried to contact the CO … no luck. A very short conference was called by the XO, LCdr. Jack Keeling, and the decision was made to go regardless. So, off we trotted!

We marched up the main street in column, three abreast. Now the street was lined with dwellings interspersed with shops. We were booed by the locals and very shortly noticed thing being thrown at us from the upper levels of the houses! Nasty things from round pots! We automatically closed ranks until we were not much wider than if we had been in single file. Other than the odd sprinkle, their aim was not very good.

I would like to think that we were fully booted and spurred in full whites, black gaiters, swords, medals, etc. In fact, I think the officers and NCOs were in khakis … bad … but much better than the greens to follow. The hands were in some sort of working dress with webbing.

On arrival at the police station we formed into two lines facing the threat, with the first line in open order, and the second staggered behind the first, i.e., we opened our "A" arcs right at me because I was in the front!

As I recall, the composition of each company was compiled by the gunnery officer and coxswain with the approval of the XO. Needless to say most of the sharp shooters - actually only a few - and the gunnery rates, were in Bruce Pakenham's company. What Robin Jones' company consisted of I don't know. But mine were mostly stewards and stokers, not noted for their proficiency in small arms fire!

I was in some trepidation because I realized that if things got ugly and we had to open fire, I would be instantaneously turned into stewing meat with the first fusillade. Furthermore, my second in command who stood behind the company, showed no interest whatsoever in changing places with me. In my report I stated that he lacked initiative!

I can't remember how long we stood duty. I know we could hear the volume of noise increase as the strikers approached the town and then decrease as they retreated. This went on for some time. Maybe they peeked around the corner to have a look and decided they had better not go any further. For short-range weapons they used machetes, with which they could, with one easy swipe, cut through the thick stalk of a large bunch of bananas. The circumference would be similar to that of my neck. For long-range, they had mostly empty rum bottles.

Occasionally, Pat Crofton would come up brandishing his swagger stick to give and collect information. To the casual observer it must have been rather amusing because Pat is a very big man, while I am very small. Pat has an easygoing placid disposition, while I do not! He would bend over to give me his information and I would snap and snarl back. He would then salute with his swagger stick as if it were a Field Marshall's baton - very effective - and away he would go. They should have put him on a charger (horse that is).

I can't remember just how long we remained in this condition, or how many watches were stood, or for that matter by whom. I don't think it was too long before our friends up the hill decided it was a "no go" situation and dispersed. Naturally, we became the toast of the town-the town of course comprising only the colonials-and numerous celebrations were held in our honour, in which of course, we fully participated.

A few days later the West Indies Fleet arrived and we proceeded to our next encounter with destiny, regrettably without quite the same successful conclusion.

I'm not certain what, if any, accolades were received from Naval Headquarters, though I do know a very nice message was received from Governor, in which he stated that a tragedy was only averted by the "presence of a visible and disciplined force," the italics are mine.

I can apologize here for many errors and omissions, and hopefully others out there will be able to fill in the blanks. To add a little "colour" to the proceedings I have exaggerated the truth here and there, however, the essentials are exactly as I remember them.

In retrospect there are two remarkable facts: (a) no word ever got out to the press, and (b) the Navy never instituted a Board of Inquiry as to what occurred or for that matter why, notwithstanding the fact that we flagrantly disobeyed an explicit order. In regards to the former, I don't think the press was as persuasive or arrogant as it is today, and as to the latter, somebody used a little common sense and left it to "Yogi" on the spot. Just as well as no one was injured or killed, otherwise this would then have been written in Spanish, "Yogi" having declared us all wards of the Patagonian Navy, many years since.