THE sky was black and the ocean eerily illuminated by man-made light.

Able seaman Ronald Hendrey, 19, stood aghast on the deck of the HMS Ulster as he took in the sight of some 800 war ships stretching out as far as he could see.

Not a single glimpse of the early morning sky was visible amid the countless RAF gliders and bombers soaring overhead.

Although Ronald had barely reached adulthood, he had already survived landings at Sicily and Anzio.

He was initially calm and steady, reassured by the feeling he had seen it all before.

But he remembers when he realised June 6, 1944, otherwise known as D-Day, would be an altogether more terrifying beast.

He said: “We were leading the way alongside the HMS Diadem and the HMS Belfast - the ship which can now be seen on the Thames.

“It wasn’t until daybreak I realised the scale of it.

“I was only 19 and this was my third landing. I had been in two. D-Day was nothing like either of them.

“As we approached I recall the skipper came over the loudspeaker to say ‘Now we are going to liberate Europe.’

“I thought to myself ‘Oh my God’ and the whole ship went quiet. The sky was black with the gliders coming over.

“Looking out there were 700 or 800 ships. Some people say as many as 1,000. It was totally mind-boggling.

“Before the war, I had never been outside the village of Thorpe. But here I was, at the front of the largest seaborne operation the world has ever seen.”

Ronald’s job was to operate the MK XII gun on B gun deck, which fired 23kg shells from a 4.7in barrel.

He recalls the deafening roar which split the air as the assembled fleet opened fire on the Normandy beaches.

He said: “It is impossible for the mind to take in. I couldn’t truly comprehend it. I just thought ‘What am I doing here.’

“When you start working, you forget everything else and you get on with the job.

“The worst part was the bit between the loudspeaker’s announcement and when the first shots were fired.”

In 2016, Ronald, who lives in Great Clacton, received the Legion of Honour for his role in the liberation of France.

He is one of 300 veterans set to visit the country on the 75th anniversary of the landings.

Ronald is honoured by the invitation and will make the trip alongside his 24-year-old grandson Darren.

But his war did not just encompass D-Day. Ronald was also involved in an attack on U-boat pens at Brest on the French coast, and was stalked by a German submarine while escorting a convoy in the North Atlantic.

After Normandy, the HMS Ulster joined the British Pacific Fleet as the Allied forces prepared to attack Japan.

His ship was struck by a kamikaze bomber during the invasion of Okinawa, blowing out the boiler room.

Two crewmen were killed and a third critically injured.

Ronald said: “As this plane was coming in there was a shout of ‘Cease fire, cease fire - it’s one of ours.’

“They never thought it would be a suicide run, we thought it was one of ours. It turns out it wasn’t.”

During the Pacific campaign, water became so scarce Ronald became used to drinking his own urine.

By the time he could enjoy some relative quiet when he was stationed as a security guard at a Royal Navy hospital outside Sydney, Ronald believes he was suffering the effects of post traumatic stress disorder.

He said there wasn’t a name for it then. It was, however, no less real.

It was the US ship the Georgetown Victory which brought Ronald back to the UK as the war reached its conclusion.

But it ran aground off the coast of Northern Ireland and lifeboats went to his rescue.

When Ronald reported back to his superiors on the mainland, he was initially arrested under suspicion of being absent without leave.

His possessions, including a prized ukelele brought back from Australia, had all been lost with the Georgetown Victory.

“When they found out where I had really come from they wanted all the information I could give them,” he said.

He said: “All I had on my person was a blue pullover, my trousers and a pair of sandals.

“I had nothing else left in the world.”

After the war had ended but before he was demobilized from the Navy, Ronald worked with a diving party to log where ships had sunk.

When Ronald was demobilised, he was given £76 to help him find a new career and get back on his feet.

He worked as an engine cleaner and a foreman on the railways.

Fluent in German, Ronald found employment as an interpreter in Harwich.

He said: “When I got back I was rather arrogant. I didn’t want to be disciplined any more, I was sick of that, and I think that is still how I am now.

“When you have been through that type of war, when you come out of it people try to tell you what you already know 100 times over.”

Ronald reflects on the anniversary of D Day.

He said: “I am coming up to 94. To think all of these people have been dead for 75-plus years, they could have had lives ahead of them. All of that life wasted.

“Whatever is given to us won’t be enough, as it cost the best part of our lives.

“A life where we could have learned trades, learned other skills.

“I only learned another trade because I educated myself after the war.

“It really brings it home to you when you take the dead out to sea to be buried.”

“It wasn’t a sense of duty which got us to join.

“The glamour was a part of it and the Government propaganda takes you in.

“If I had known D-Day would be like that, I wouldn’t have gone in the first place.

“We had guys who knew this and knew that - who thought they knew it all - but when the skipper said ‘We are going to liberate Europe’, they went as silent as the rest of us.”