JACK LOMAX, from Stand Lane in Radcliffe, was signalman with the Royal Navy on board HMS Grey Shark. Days before the Normandy Landings, Jack's ship ran the gauntlet along the coast of France while senior officers mapped the locations of the enemy guns, which were firing on them.

My recollections start a little before D-Day when our flotilla of four ships came under American command. We worked with them in their exercises, including the disaster at Lyme Bay, Dorset, where they practised landings on Slapton sands.

We were patrolling another sector when apparently German E Boats, fast torpedo crafts, got among the exercise and sunk two large landing craft and damaged a third.

We received a signal to search for survivors. Sadly we found none. Some 750 Americans died that night.

A few nights before D-Day our ship was given a special mission to collect an officer and his colleague who came on board with lots of charts and we set course for Cherbourg. I was signalman and heard and saw what took place.

We stopped in the darkness just off the Mole and the skipper called me over. He asked me to climb to the searchlight platform about ten feet above the bridge, switch on and sweep the light along the Mole, a most unusual thing for we never had to show the merest flicker at sea.

He said count to five, switch off and get down. I think I counted to about three and was down before the light went out.

Obviously we were meant to be seen and the skipper rang down for full speed as one shore battery after another opened fire. The special officer was standing at the binnacle calling out the bearings to his colleague who charted the gun flashes and we ran along the French coast for about an hour.

As they left the ship early next morning I heard them say to the skipper: "these will be with the Air Ministry this afternoon."

So, obviously, the gun batteries were to be bombed on D-Day.

We returned to our base in Portland and saw hundreds of tanks, guns and lorries lined up on Chesil beach ready for embarking into the landing craft.

On June 4 our flotilla sailed and were to escort ten rather large American infantry craft to a place called Omaha Beach to arrive at 0630. Because of the weather and the problems for the smaller craft we were recalled.

Next day, June 5, we were called at 0700. Little did we realise this was the last sleep we were to get for the next 72 hours or so. We sailed again at three in the afternoon, formed up our charges into two columns of five each, and as senior officer, we were at the head and placed one of our flotilla on the outside of each column, and one at the rear. Our ETA was to be 0630 at Omaha on June 6.

As daylight broke we sailed through the lines of battle ships. On our starboard side was USS Augusta with General Omar Bradley aboard, while further to starboard was USS Nevada which had been sunk at Pearl harbour and refloated to take part in the bombardment which started a few minutes after we had passed through.

To hear these enormous projectiles whizzing over us was absolute bedlam and to me, a 19 year old, very frightening.

The barrage lifted at 0625 and a few minutes later the ships we had escorted started to discharge their men. The next hour or so was frenzy and chaotic. It was sad to see so many dead and dying unable to get across the beach.

Being so close in, we could see where the fire was coming from on the cliffs and sand dunes and signalled for permission to open fire but received negative: you may hit our own men.

We were ordered instead to make a smoke screen along the beach to give protection to the next wave of troops.

At about 10am the situation was becoming desperate and we were then requested to open fire which the four of us did from about 700 yards.

We returned to England only to prepare for the invasion of Walcheren in the Sheldt estuary, where a very good friend from Radcliffe was killed. Will man never learn the futility of war?"