Sea-loving veteran commanded torpedo boat on D-Day
D-Day torpedo boat commander, golfer, dinner party host and yachtie. Neil Harton died recently in Whangaparaoa, three months short of his 105th birthday, having already planned his annual birthday bash at his local golf club.
Friends and relatives describe Harton as a colourful character who took an interest in everything going on around him, right up until he had a fatal stroke.
Although Harton was a member of Chartered Accountants Australia and New Zealand (CAANZ) for 83 years, he was never what many would imagine as a typical chartered accountant.
Born Neil Wilford Harton in Te Kuiti in 1917, he spent most of his childhood in Wellington. The middle child of three, his older brother Maurice died many years ago, but he was still in contact with younger sister Joy, who lives in Australia and turned 100 last year.
From an early age Harton loved boats and, in later life, he and his son David raced the Moth class at a national level.
Earlier this year, he found himself in the media spotlight when he became one of the oldest Kiwis to be doublevaccinated. ‘‘Why should one worry about it? You can’t go through life being afraid,’’ he said.
Being afraid was not a problem for Harton. That was never more evident than in a report of his actions in June 1943, carried in the Northern Advocate. Under the heading ‘‘A Notable Occasion’’, the report recorded a remarkable rescue in the North Sea.
’’He [Harton] and his crew distinguished themselves one dark bitter night. During a patrol they saw a Halifax [bomber], with engines on fire, crash into the sea two miles away. Despite a heavy sea, the boat raced Harry Flatters (coastal slang for top speed) for the aircraft.
‘‘Harton and four of his crew jumped in to the icy sea in an attempt to rescue the airmen. They found three Canadians, almost in pitch darkness, nearly exhausted.’’
His introduction to boats was somewhat unusual. Aged 8, and playing with Maurice, they made a boat out of corrugated iron and took it to the local
river. Although it is not recorded how well it floated, Neil was hooked.
In 1926, the family moved to Wellington, staying with an aunt in Oriental Parade. The proximity to the wharf and yacht club was a big bonus.
Their father got the brothers a canoe and later they bought a three-metre yacht which they raced with the Port Nicholson and Evans Bay yacht clubs.
After leaving school, Harton followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming an accountant with a small engineering firm.
When World War II broke out, Neil and Maurice were both quick to enlist. With their love of the sea, both wanted to serve in the New Zealand Navy, which was then still a part of the Royal Navy.
The navy, however, did not respond quickly enough for Neil, so he volunteered to join the RAF in August 1940 and completed a preliminary navigation course. In the meantime, he spotted an advert to join the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve Scheme to undergo training in England for a commissioned rank.
He subsequently became a torpedo commander serving in the North Sea, with a distinguished career highlighted by rescuing the Canadians, and later taking part in the D-Day landings.
On D-Day his role was protecting the minesweepers clearing the way for the landing craft that would take troops to the beaches. In 1944, he applied for leave to return to New Zealand.
‘‘I only applied for foreign service leave when the war was almost over . . . I was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. I came back expecting to be sent out to the Pacific, but they found that I was rundown and had a scar on my lung. I was not fit enough,’’ he said.
His war was over, and Harton returned to work in Wellington. When a travelling scholarship from the Institute of Accountants came up, he and new wife Christine (nee Fisher), whom he had married in December 1946, moved to London.
Unhappy with the way he was treated, he returned to Wellington after two years and built a new house. Finding it too windy in the capital, he moved to Auckland in search of better weather.
In Auckland, Harton was manager of Price Waterhouse in Queen St before being headhunted by a privately owned family business, the Colonial Ammunition Company, where he worked for 19 years, surviving two takeovers.
He retired in 1977, but that was only the beginning of a whole new chapter in his life.
An avid golfer, he stopped playing only when he was over 100, he wrote his autobiography, Temporary Acting Gentleman-Seaman; hosted dinner parties; messed around in boats; and became a voice for D-Day veterans appearing in the media.
He travelled to France with the NZ Air Force, to mark the 70th anniversary of D-Day, and was awarded the French Legion of Honour in 2015 at a ceremony at Devonport, Auckland.
In November 2020, he had his first ride in a helicopter after being choppered into the Addington Raceway for the New Zealand Cup by former All Blacks captain Richie McCaw.
Peter Vial, New Zealand country head at Chartered Accountants Australia and New Zealand, and a relative of Harton, said he was a remarkable man.
‘‘He was just so active, super-active mentally and physically. He played golf until a couple of years ago.’’
With his sharp mind, he took an active interest in everything around him, including following all the latest trends in accounting.
He liked to understand new technology and its impact on accounting. When Harton was 101, Vial took a new CAANZ president to meet their oldest member. A big storm had caused a lot of damage on his section and his internet had stopped working. Assuming he would not be able to fix it without help, they offered to help him restore it. ‘‘He said, ‘No, no, I can manage that, it will be fine’.’’
His wife Christine had Parkinson’s for many years, and died in 2003. Harton looked after her at home and, when he could no longer cope, visited her daily in the nursing home. Katherine Harton says her father was a faithful, loving husband and father, who always enjoyed life.
In a 2018 interview with Acuity magazine, by which time he was 101, Harton said there was no secret to his long life. ‘‘You just keep on going, and you don’t give in to anything. The days follow one another and you suddenly realise you are 100 years old.’’
Living on his own in Whangaparaoa, where he continued to host dinner parties, he said he got a lot of stimulation from his sea view. ‘‘I’ve been interested in boats all my life, so I can watch the yachts in the bay and it’s really something.’’ – Nicholas Boyack
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