EXTRACT FROM THE BIOGRAPHY OF Lt. Comm. MAGNUS S. WORK DSC RNR (with kind permission of Magnus Work)
(Note: The extract opens while Magnus was the commander of an anti-submarine trawler in the English Channel as part of the Anti-Invasion Patrol)
We saw two destroyers of whom we had not been advised, went to action stations and simultaneously made an enemy report. The four inch gun was loaded and ready to fire when the ships identified themselves as friendly; had we fired before that identification they would have taken us as enemy and would have soon knocked us about. There were several similar incidents, but none got quite so near to a shooting war. We had occasional breaks when the ship was in Portsmouth, but as that town was being bombed every night there was not much peace, although I was able to get a weekend clear and went to Edinburgh where I had two days with Jean; we got engaged.
During one night, when Portsmouth docks was very heavily bombed, we were lying alongside with part crew onboard. One bomb landed astern of us, another one landed between ship and quay. Neither bomb exploded until the following morning by which time I had moved my ship, the ship astern had not time to move and was severely damaged. It was shortly after this incident that I was relieved of this command and appointed to a flower class corvette HMS Dahlia building in Aberdeen, most convenient; Jean and I got married almost immediately and had nearly three months of married life before the ship was completed.
The First Lieutenant and three junior officers reported for duty some two weeks later, we could not work on the ship but were provided with an office on the quay. Aldridge, the Number One, as he was affectionately known, had been at sea in the merchant service as an apprentice, then he became a London Policeman and served in that force for some years, before being commissioned in the reserve. He had experienced life at sea in a destroyer for four months before his appointment to Dahlia. The three junior officers had served some time as Ordinary Seamen in destroyers before attending an Officer Training establishment and being commissioned as Sub Lieutenants. Their backgrounds were very varied, the oldest, aged about 23, had worked as a clerk in a council office before volunteering for the Royal Navy; the next in age had been a student at Manchester University while the youngest had been completing his schooling at Eton. All three were above average intelligence and keen to prove themselves, which they were soon able to do. Senior Petty Officers joined about the same time and then, shortly before the ship was completed, the remainder of the crew, some fifty "Hostilities Only" seamen, most of whom had never been to sea before, completed the ship's complement. After sea trials the ship was approved, I was satisfied with her performance and that she was satisfactorily completed. I signed, on behalf of Admiralty, for a vessel number J1058, named "Dahlia." That was on 21 March 1941, when I was only thirty one: who, at that age, would have the opportunity today to sign a receipt for a warship.
First stop from Aberdeen was Tobermory. This entailed a passage round the north of Scotland and on this trip I found just how inexperienced the officers and crew were, I was the only one who knew how to take a ship from A to B and there were very few of the crew who could even steer. Tobermory was renowned as the training base for inexperienced corvette crews and we spent three weeks there getting intensive training. The training base was under the command of a retired Admiral, known as Monkey Stevenson, who ran a most efficient establishment and was onboard every ship, as soon as it arrived, summing up the potential of the officer personnel and the Captain. He was frequently onboard when exercises were under way and if he considered any of the officers incompetent or inefficient he would have them removed and replaced by someone else. Every aspect of warfare was experienced during the three weeks in which we were there, personnel became acquainted with the ship, their ship mates, the armaments, the anti-submarine equipment and so on. None of my officer personnel were considered inefficient and I think that we left Tobermory with a satisfactory report. From there, because of a minor problem with the engines, we were sent to Greenock for repairs and while there the Admiralty fitted the ship with the latest anti-submarine radar. Repairs completed, we sailed to join escort group B1 at Londonderry. The first step was to report to the NOIC of Londonderry and then to the Senior Officer of our escort force.
It was not long after this that the group, three destroyers and four corvettes, became the escorts for a convoy bound for America. This convoy went up through the Minches to the north of Lewis and then headed out into the Atlantic. The only two ships of the escort force that had the modern anti-submarine radar were the Monkshood and ourselves. Both ships were instructed not to switch on their radar until told to do so by the Senior Officer but it was only the second day out that Monkshood reported her radar out of action, on being asked why the reply came that instructions were to keep the radar warm every hour and it had gone off while they were warming it up, it was not long after that that our radar did the same and for several voyages both radars were out of action for at least part of the passage. No sooner did we round the butt of Lewis than we ran into a severe westerly gale, two of the merchant ships in the convoy collided and we also nearly had a collision. I had been on the bridge for the first half of the night along with the junior officers and when the First Lieutenant came on duty I thought I could leave him to deal with the situation and went down to have a rest in the wheelhouse, where I had a bench with a pillow. It was not many minutes before the First Lieutenant shouted for me to come back on the bridge, he was in a panic and the ship was heading for the two vessels which had collided. There was time to prevent a collision and we continued on our escort duties leaving a tug to deal with the damaged ships. The First Lieutenant went off duty at 4 o'clock and on his rounds of the ship found the lower mess deck flooded to a depth of two or three inches; washing back and fore in the water were shoes, caps, cigarette packets and pieces of clothing, the men to whom these belonged were either on watch or were lying, very seasick, on the benches. The first thing to be done was to find out from where this water had come and it was discovered that the chain locker was full and overflowing into the mess deck. This was soon pumped dry and we got a portable pump into the mess deck to clear the water from there. The cause of the chain locker being flooded was the heavy seas coming over the bow of the ship, this had torn the cover plates off the spurling pipes and the water had poured into the chain locker, we found ways of preventing this on future voyages.
This was our first experience of really bad weather but it was not long before we found that many things could go wrong under such conditions. Depth charges would break adrift and men had to go onto the after deck, which was awash, and secure these, the asdic house on the bridge became flooded by water coming through the windows, which were supposed to be watertight; the ventilators for the forced draft were occasionally submerged by the sea, the fans sucked the water into the conduits and sprayed it into the mess decks. The biggest enemy with which we had to contend during convoy duties in the North Atlantic was the weather; the ship had an open bridge, no protection from wind, rain, hail or snow and spray was invariably blowing over all. Seamen lookouts were on both wings of the bridge where they were wet and cold; the watchkeeping officers suffered similarly. The only good thing about life on a corvette was that the mess decks were reasonably warm and the men could get their clothes dried when off watch.
Before America became involved in the war, convoys were escorted half way across the Atlantic, the ships then dispersed and proceed independently. The destroyers headed for Iceland to refuel while the corvettes, which had ample fuel, were left to bob up and down, usually in bad weather, for three or four days while waiting for the next convoy to arrive. This convoy would have sailed from Halifax with one or two Canadian destroyers and would be met, first by the corvettes, then by the destroyers. This escort would then screen the ships from U-Boat attack until arrival at UK ports.
While I was on convoy escort duty Jean had produced a baby son whom we christened Magnus Patrick. When he was about six weeks old Jean suggested that she should come to Londonderry where we were based. Accommodation was the problem but I finally found a family who would take my wife and child and on the next occasion we were in Londonderry, between convoys, I went to Aberdeen, collected Jean and with pram, baby's clothing and all the extras; we took the train to Glasgow, and from there to Belfast by ship. This was an overnight passage, next morning we got on the train to Londonderry and finally reached the digs which I had arranged. Having got Jean and Baby into the house and introduced to the landlady I went to Dahlia to find out how things were going and to my horror learned that we were to sail that night because of a ship in distress off the Western Isles. Poor Jean she was left with strangers in a strange area while I disappeared and it was some ten days before we returned. After berthing the ship I went to the lodgings and found that the lady of the house had been taken to hospital, she would not agree to her husband having a lady in the house while she was in hospital, therefore we had to find alternative accommodation. Luck was with us, I found an empty farm house on the outskirts of Deny where no one had lived for some time, it was a bit dirty but the farmer's wife, who lived in the other half of the house, said she would clean it and be ready for us in two days time. When we got there it was reasonably clean and appeared very suitable but there was no electricity: paraffin lamps and a coal fired stove. Jean had not lived with paraffin lamps or a coal fired stove before so I had to introduce her to the cleaning of lamps and the cleaning of flues in the stove and, having got her acquainted with these, I went off again to sea and this time was away for about five weeks. Despite all the problems Jean had managed very well and was very happy with the conditions. We were able to retain that accommodation for about nine months until the ship was due to go on refit, then gave up the house not knowing what the future would hold. It was an unfortunate decision because the ship came back to Londonderry and rejoined the Bl Escort Group. The months which followed were not very happy ones for Jean, she lived in various houses in various parts of Londonderry, none of them entirely satisfactory, until my time attached to Londonderry Escort Force ended, that was at the end of 1943.
America came into the war at the beginning of 1942, and by this time the escort forces of the British Navy had been sufficiently strengthened and were able to escort the convoys all the way to the south of Newfoundland. At that point the Canadian or American escorts took over and our Forces proceeded to Argentia, a sheltered harbour on the south west of Newfoundland. In the bay was a tanker for refueling and alongside the Wharf was an American repair ship to provide us with any services for the ship or personnel; there were doctors and dentists, a nautical optician and excellent repair squads. The crew soon found that there was icecream to be obtained and also that the American sailors were short of alcohol and would buy any rum which had been bottled by the British sailors. The Americans Navy soon complained about the sale of rum to their sailors and we got strict instructions that we were to abide by the rules and water the rum before issue. There was no sale for watered rum.
There were, so called, fast and slow convoys to be shepherded across the North Atlantic, the former had a maximum speed often knots and the latter, eight. In either of these convoys there were ships which could not maintain the requisite speed except in calm weather. The escort stationed astern of the convoy had the unenviable job of endeavouring to protect the stragglers, this entailed much high speed manoeuvring. High speed in the usual North Atlantic winter weather made conditions on board more miserable than normal. The ship buried her bow into the waves and the wind whipped the spray overall and the after deck, which was only three and a half feet above the waterline in the best of conditions, was continually swamped by the waves. On many occasions the convoy was routed so far to the north that we were off the coast of Greenland and then, in the winter months, we had ice forming on deck and rigging. The superstructure became coated in ice, guns and other armaments had to be cleared twice every hour to ensure they were always ready for use; all more cold and miserable work for the crew.
The Captain of a small warship, in time of war, had to be constantly alert and ready to deal with any situation, day or night. Escorting convoys on the North Atlantic was more arduous for the Captain than when his ship was providing the same service in areas where weather conditions were less severe. A slow convoy, during winter months, could take seventeen days from the Irish Sea to off the south of Newfoundland and, during the whole of that time, the ship would be enveloped in sea spray, supplemented by rain or snow. In these conditions the Captain had to be suitably clad at all times, ready to leap from settee to bridge at a moment's notice. There were times when I slept, wearing sea boots and oilskins, and could not go to my cabin for a wash or a shave for several days. Life for watchkeepers, both officers and lookouts, was also wet and miserable, they had virtually no shelter and keeping a lookout in gale conditions was a strain and very hard on the eyes; water, sometimes fresh, sometimes salt, trickled down ones face, into the eyes and also down ones neck.
On several occasions in the spring we met huge icebergs and calculated, on one occasion, that the berg was 600 ft high above the sea level, we used icebergs for gunnery practice but even four inch armour piercing shells did not appear to make much difference to them. Nine tenths of an iceberg is under water so we did not dare to go very near.
In the summer of 1942 Dahlia was sent to London for a refit and for the fitting of a more modern radar; we went into the Royal Docks and were able to give the crew some long overdue leave during the refit which took four or five weeks. During this time Jean and I visited her brother, a doctor in Manchester, we also paid a short visit to Orkney, and had some time living in the Cumberland Hotel in London, a very nice relaxing break. The alterations to the bridge structure made a great improvement to the efficiency of the ship and also to the space on the bridge but there was no more shelter except for me, I got a settee in the new chart house, at least it was dry; the one I had in the wheel house had water coming into it when the wind was on the port side of the ship. The refit ended all too soon and we were back to Londonderry with some of the old crew and some new members. A new First Lieutenant who was most efficient, the important sailors and Petty Officers were still on the ship and we rejoined the B1 escort group which had been on continuous escort duties. Dahlia's first contact with a submarine was shortly after rejoining; it was blowing hard, we were about a mile ahead of the convoy when the asdic operator reported a submarine straight ahead, we hoisted the black flag to indicate that we were making an attack and dropped depth charges on the contact, the weather was such that we did not expect to make a successful attack but at least we had driven the submarine down and prevented her from attacking the convoy. We followed the submarine down between the rows of ships, they opened up to let us go through, and we carried out two more attacks while passing through the convoy but none of them brought any results. As usual we lost contact with the submarine in the disturbed water astern of the convoy but we stayed sitting on top of the anticipated position of the sub until the convoy was well clear. The Commodore altered course when it was dark and before the submarine could come to the surface. Later we heard the U-Boat making a report on the convoy's position course and speed and calling other submarines into attack but it appeared that the alteration of course threw them off the scent and we saw nothing more of that group of submarines.
The worst possible conditions for the escort force protecting a convoy is in a gale combined with a heavy sea; it is then often impossible to see other ships, ones view being obscured by the tops of the waves. Radar and asdic are also less efficient under such conditions. It is also unpleasant for the attackers but conditions were to their advantage, they were difficult to see. The maximum speed of a U-boat when submerged was only six knots but, when on the surface they could attain a speed of twenty knots and were very manoeuvrable, in addition they presented a small target with only the conning tower showing. In heavy weather, during the hours of darkness, they attacked as high speed torpedo boats, proceeding at full speed and attacking from the weather side with the wind and sea following. It was in a north west gale that B1 escort group had its next encounter with the enemy. The convoy was from Halifax to the UK and was about half way when the senior officer was advised that there were several submarines in the vicinity. As darkness fell he relocated the escorts, appointing his destroyer and one other to cover the rear with Dahlia on the port quarter which was the weather side. It was about midnight when action started with the senior officer's ship attacking a submarine with gunfire, forcing it to dive and then dropping depth charges. Having sighted one submarine on the surface the gun's crews were all tense; guns fired immediately when another object was seen above the waves, unfortunately this was the other destroyer protecting the rear of the convoy. Recognition lights were immediately switched on by the ship under attack and no serious damage was done. How many U-Boat attacks were thwarted that night I do not know but Dahlia was able to report that one attack had been depth charged and prevented from reaching the target. It was an exciting and arduous night for everyone as the crew had been at action stations for lengthy periods during the hours of darkness but, when day broke, the senior officer was able to report that all the ships were safe. It appeared that the U-Boats had lost heart for they did not follow the convoy and attack on the following night. Admiralty reported that there were probably ten to twelve submarines in the vicinity that night and the escorts were successful in preventing any of them from getting through to the merchant vessels being protected.
It was about this time, when we were escorting a fast convoy towards America, that Dahlia very nearly came to grief. Weather during this particular winter seemed to be worse than normal and on several occasions we had to contend with gales accompanied by heavy snow showers, during one such period we narrowly avoided a serious collision. Dahlia was in station about a mile ahead of the convoy, zig-zagging back and fore in an endeavour to stop merchant vessels, during the hours of darkness, speeding ahead. The radar was working and had located one ship which was out of her proper position, we closed her and told her to get back into station. Shortly after this, while I was still on the bridge along with the First Lieutenant, keeping a close look out because the radar could not see everything in the heavy sea. Suddenly we saw what appeared to be a ship about 100 yards ahead on our port bow. Immediate action had to be taken and to warn the crew we rang the alarm bells, at the same time I gave the appropriate orders to the Helmsman and to the engine room, "full speed ahead." The Dahlia was very manoeuvreable and swung to starboard quickly but not quite quickly enough and soon we were under the bows of this empty tanker. Her stem struck us a glancing blow some 50 feet from the bow and then, as we rose on the swell she came down, and her starboard anchor went through the foredeck of the Dahlia. How we avoided being sunk was just a matter of good fortune; at one time the flare of the bow of the tanker was right above the heads of us on the bridge, the ships then rolled away from one another on the swell and the only further damage done to Dahlia was a ring bolt knocked off the ship's side. The majority of the crew were on their feet by the time that the ships collided and therefore knew that this was not a normal call to action and the guns crews, as they raced to their action stations, saw this huge tanker almost on top of us.
One person who did not see any of the commotion, did not hear the alarm bells, did not know that the ships had collided was a signal man who had joined the ship some six days previously and was so sea sick that he did not care what happened to the ship and did not even rouse himself from his hammock though the anchor came through the deck perilously close to his head. We were not in anyway unseaworthy and continued to be an escort until the convoy was handed over to a Canadian group and we proceeded to Argentia where the shipwrights came on board and in two days had repairs completed. I had to make a full report of the incident to Admiralty; this was sent with a covering letter from the Group Commander. Some months later ! had a letter from Admiralty stating that the action I had taken to avoid a collision was wrong and reprimanded rne accordingly. My reaction was, "You were not there chum."
Some months after this incident when the weather had considerably improved and we were enjoying a peaceful spell with a convoy travelling from Halifax to the UK. The monotony of the night watch was suddenly interrupted by the lookout reporting a light on the starboard bow. To see a light on the horizon during the war when all ships were in darkness made one speculate; could it be a ship in distress, a lifeboat or an enemy raider disguised and displaying a light to attract the unwary. It soon became evident that the lights were those of a ship; the crew went to action stations and manned all guns not knowing what the consequences were to be. Communication by signal lamp was soon established and the vessel was ordered to stop and report name, port of registry and port of destination. The reply indicating that she was a Swedish vessel bound from the USA to Sweden under a special neutral agreement, and that she had on board fourteen survivors from a British vessel. The Swedish vessel had stopped by this time and we took station on her port side, lowered a whaler and sent a boarding party on board. They reported that she was a genuine Swedish ship and requested that we take from her those survivors who were able to walk. This we did and what a story these men had to tell.
They were part of the crew of a tanker sailing, light ship, in a convoy from England to America for a cargo of oil. On a dark dirty night their ship was torpedoed and the Captain ordered abandon ship. These fourteen men found themselves afloat in a lifeboat as their ship disappeared, when daylight came there was no sign of the convoy, no other lifeboats, nothing but sea and sky. The saviours of this boat load of humanity were the carpenter, who had been born and brought up in Shetland, and the apprentice who had spent his youth messing about in boats. These two, for the others were all engine room staff, handled the boat when detached from the ship and had kept her clear of other vessels. The carpenter and the apprentice recommended that they should sail in a northerly direction in the hope of sighting a single ship or a convoy proceeding on a more northerly route. The euphoria which had sustained them when they realised that they were safe was soon dissipated by the conditions in which they had to exist. For ten days they sailed and bailed, wet, cold and miserable, living on ships biscuits, a little of condensed milk and cold water. On the afternoon of the tenth day spirits were raised; a ship was sited far away to the north, distress signals were fired but there was no response and soon it was dark. Depression and despair ruled that night, some even had suicidal thoughts, but the enthusiasm and determination of the carpenter kept their craft sailing and one can imagine the excitement when dawn broke and there, not too far away, was a ship. Only two distress rockets remained, it was decided that they should be fired, again there was no response from the ship. As the lifeboat sailed northward with a good following wind, it became obvious that the ship was stationary. Eventually they could see the ship was down by the head and the ship's lifeboats were not in the davits. There was a ladder hanging over the side to which the lifeboat was manoeuvered and made fast but despite the shouts of the men there was no response. Who, after eleven days of semi-starvation, could climb the twenty or so feet to safety? The young apprentice tackled it and, on reaching the deck, obtained the necessary rope and a lead block and assisted the carpenter to climb the ladder, then the others, some of whom were unable to do any climbing, were assisted or hoisted on board.
Immersion foot, a swelling due to days of immersion in cold water, affected them all but those who were able to walk found that there was food, tobacco and spirits in plenty also bunks with blankets. After a couple of days to recuperate the Chief Engineer made his way to the engine room along with another Engineer, they worked their way on hands and bottoms down the engine room ladders to the electric generator which they were able to start thus providing light, heat and cooking facilities. It was a super human effort and on the day that power was restored a carpenter made an examination of the ship and confirmed that she was an empty tanker which had been torpedoed forward and abandoned. After some days of rest those who were fit kept watch on the bridge and finally this Swedish vessel was sighted, contacted by signal lamp and assistance requested. They sent over a boat and soon all fourteen survivors were being cared for by the Swedish crew. We eventually landed them in Londonderry but never discovered whether they were the only survivors from that ship or not.
After Germany over ran the north of France she had wonderful harbours for the use of her U-Boats which were thus able to proceed into the Atlantic without having to withstand the problem seas off the north of Scotland. Originally the U-Boats sailed from the French ports in the evening and proceeded on the surface across the Bay of Biscay but, as the radar fitted on British aircraft was improved, they were able to detect and depth charge the submarines which were on the surface. In consequence the submarines proceeded under water and escort vessels were put on patrol across the Bay. In the autumn of 1943 the B1 escort group was detailed to proceed on one of these patrols and what a wonderful change it was for the crew, the weather was glorious, blue skies, calm seas and a steady ship on a glassy sea, this lasted for some two weeks with all the crew basking in the sunshine when they were off watch. None of the crew who had been on Dahlia since her commissioning had seen much sunshine, several of them suffered from minor cuts which went sceptic, the doctors suspected it was lack of sunshine and the spell in the sun did them good. We went from there to Gibraltar and then escorted a convoy from North Africa to the UK.
The convoy was north of the Spanish coast when we saw, high in the sky, a huge aircraft with German markings. The function of these aircraft was to report the course and speed of convoys which they saw to enable Headquarters to pass such information to submarines. It was then that we saw, for the first time, a Hurricane fighter, balanced on runners, and propelled by a rocket, shoot off the deck of a merchant ship, known as a Cam ship. This Hurricane raced after the Folk Wolf aircraft which, having seen the Hurricane being fired off the ship, made for home. We did not see the dog fight but it was only a few minutes before the Hurricane came back and did a victory roll over the convoy, the pilot then jumped out of the plane which crashed into the sea. The pilot, in just his ordinary clothes, came down in his parachute and was then picked up by a destroyer. Admiralty obviously considered that destroying one of Germany's big aircraft and probably protecting the convoy, was well worth the loss of a Hurricane.
A few days of rest in Londonderry was the next item on the programme, the Senior Officer of B1 escort force then advised me that we were returning to patrol in the Bay of Biscay and proceeding to Gibraltar to bring home a convoy. The news quickly spread round the ship and the crew were looking forward to another spell of fine weather, they were not disappointed. The sea was calm again but this time, with the continual sunshine, it was extremely difficult for the asdic to detect anything under water. The sunshine made temperature layers which deflected the asdic beam, we heard lots of porpoises talking to one another but no one obtained contact with a submarine although several depth charges were dropped on echoes caused by temperature gradients. We had sunshine all the way to Gibraltar where the crew were able to get some relaxation, which was unobtainable in Argentia, the only port when on the north Atlantic convoy route.
After four days in Gibraltar the seven escorts in the group went into the strait of Gibraltar to pick up a convoy of ships which had been involved in the north African landings. This was a rather important convoy because a number of the ships had been specially adapted for the north African landings and were being brought home to prepare for the invasion of Europe. There were sixty eight merchant ships and twelve tank landing craft, six on each side of this convoy. It was quite obvious that seven escorts could not give much protection to such a large collection of vessels. The first four days were ones of peace and quiet by which time we were nearing the north of Spain. Admiralty then advised that the Germans were obviously aware of the importance of this convoy and had some sixteen submarines in the anticipated path. Two anti-submarine support groups were ahead of this convoy and, in addition, aircraft from the Azores were patrolling in an endeavour to restrict the movement of the submarines. According to the "History of the War at Sea" the big battle occurred on the night of 27th November, the support groups attacked several submarines and probably sank some but one succeeded in getting through the outer screen of escorts and surfaced, on the eastern side of the convoy, in a perfect position to make an attack. Dahlia was also on the eastern side of the convoy and the radar operator reported that he had, on his screen, what looked suspiciously like a submarine. It was then about three in the morning and action stations were sounded immediately, the ship turned towards the suspected submarine, speed was maintained at no more than ten knots in case of acoustic torpedoes. As we got closer to the submarine she dived and we increased to full speed, shortly after which there was an explosion astern which was assumed to have been a torpedo, fired at us, it had not been activated by the noise of the ship's propellers and exploded as programmed. The disturbance of water where the submarine had dived was still visible as we went over that spot and dropped our depth charges. How much damage was done to that submarine we were never able to establish but there was a considerable amount of oil on the water and Dahlia was credited with a probable sinking. We sat over the estimated position of the submarine until daylight and were then instructed to rejoin the convoy. Submarines continued in the area for the next two days but the extra escorts were able to prevent any further submarines getting inside the screen, and the whole convoy was delivered safely to ports in the UK and the Bl escort group returned to Londonderry.
It was after these operations that Dahlia was instructed to proceed to Liverpool for a refit. I put in all my demands for improvements to the vessel, and met the construction people, but after a couple of days was told that my period in command of Dahlia was completed and I was to proceed on leave. Dahlia had been with that one escort group from the middle of 1941 and I think it was one of the most successful groups on the north Atlantic having lost only a couple of ships during the whole of that period.
It was then a case of saying farewell to officers and crew, some of whom had been on the ship from commissioning, it was with regret that I said farewell to them, particularly to those who had served me so well during those three years. I then collected all my belongings and departed along with family to Orkney where I relaxed for almost three months. I had left Dahlia just before the end of the year and was surprised and honoured to find that I been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in the New Years Honours List and it was most gratifying to see that Commander Bayldon, the Senior Officer of our escort group had been awarded the Distinguished Service Order. He thoroughly deserved that decoration; a most successful Senior Officer of an escort group.
During the period of relaxation in Orkney I was invited to attend an investiture at Buckingham Palace where I would receive the decoration from His Majesty. Each person to be decorated was allowed two guests: Jean and Betty Work were my guests. On this occasion there were approximately one hundred potential recipients of decorations assembled in one of the reception rooms, there we were lined up in the appropriate order and when the time came we moved forward towards the dias on which King George VI stood. On reaching the dias each person was introduced to His Majesty: when my turn came he asked me a few questions about my service, then pinned the medal in the appropriate place on my uniform. Wearing my medal I proudly collected my two guests and we proceeded to enjoy a celebratory lunch.
In early March, when I was feeling refreshed and ready to go back to sea, orders came for me to report to Aberdeen and take command of a Castle Class corvette which was then building in the same ship yard as had built the Dahlia. My new command, called Bamborough Castle, was one of the early ships of this class. She was some fifty feet longer than Dahlia but had roughly the same speed and manoeuvreability, her super structure was much higher, therefore she would be a much dryer ship in bad weather, but it was still an open bridge with no protection from the weather. She was fitted with the latest radar and the latest anti-submarine asdic, the latter was essential because we now carried fewer depth charges and our main anti-submarine armament was a three barrelled mortar, this was fitted forward of the bridge and threw depth bombs some three hundred yards ahead of the vessel; this device was known as "The Squid."
Jean and I along with Patrick lived in digs in Aberdeen while building progressed. The procedure for commissioning the vessel was very similar to that followed on Dahlia, but on this occasion the First Lieutenant and junior officers were more experienced, as were the majority of the crew. After trials and acceptance we sailed again to Tobermory where the routine was the same as before, this time perhaps slightly more rigorous. Towards the end of our period at Tobermory the Commodore, still known as Monkey Stevenson, approached me and suggested that the First Lieutenant should be removed because, in his opinion, he was neither as efficient nor as alert as was necessary. I objected and told the Commodore that I was running the ship and was quite satisfied with the First Lieutenant. The Commodore accepted my decision, probably because he knew that I had a satisfactory service record and had recently been awarded a bar to the Distinguished Service Cross and been promoted to Lieutenant Commander. This promotion brought a welcome increase in wage from eleven shillings a day to eighteen: no increase in daily allowances of three shillings "command money" and another three "marriage allowance." The period at Tobermory being completed we proceeded to Greenock.
Bamborough Castle was not part of any particular group at that time but was temporarily attached to a group escorting convoys to and from Gibraltar. Back at Greenock I was told that, as the ship had been specially fitted for cold water operations, we would be supplied with special clothing for the crew and would join the seventh escort group for operations on the north Russian convoy route. That was in the middle of September 1944, convoys to north Russia no longer operated during the summer months but after mid September there was a certain amount of darkness and it was hoped that ships would be safely convoyed to Murmansk and Arkhangel, the two ports in the north of Russia which were ice free throughout the winter. The escorts for north Russian convoys assembled in Loch Ewe. on the north west coast of Scotland, some of the merchant vessels also assembled there. The convoy, after leaving Loch Ewe, went north past the Orkney islands and was joined by a cruiser, a small aircraft carrier and six destroyers; this well protected convoy proceeded north and was joined by some merchant vessels which had been sheltering in Iceland. The whole body of ships then went well north of Norway so that any enemy aircraft from the bases in Norway would not have enough fuel to press home any lengthy mass attacks, at least this was the objectives. On those first two convoys the weather was clear and we had several hours of daylight which enabled the German aircraft to find the ships and drop their bombs. The fact that the convoy escort was heavily armed with anti-aircraft guns and had an aircraft carrier seemed to deter the enemy. Some of the enemy aircraft were shot down and gunners on Bamborough Castle were delighted to have the opportunity of firing their high angle four inch gun, at aircraft which appeared to be making a bombing run at the ship, all of them were deterred by the anti-aircraft shells exploding in their path. The pilots of the German aircraft were neither as determined nor as skilful in their attacking procedure as one would have expected; perhaps the better and more experienced airmen had been withdrawn for service on the western or eastern fronts. No ships were lost by air attack on the first two convoys and after that it was winter darkness and the position of the ships could not be discovered. In the following spring no serious air attacks were experienced in the daylight which followed the darkness; shortage of aircraft and fuel were probably the determining factors.
By the time the convoy reached the approaches to Murmansk the danger was submarine attack in the Kola inlet which was some sixty miles long and from ten to fifteen miles wide, ships entered it at the eastern end while the entrance to Murmansk harbour was at the western end. This inlet was a favourite of the German submarines because there was a layer of warm water on top and cold water underneath, the submarines knew that if they went down into the cold water the chances of escorts locating them by asdic were small. They would come to periscope depth and if in position would fire their torpedoes and immediately submerge again into the cold water. Virtually every time a convoy passed through Kola inlet ships were torpedoed. One of my early memories was picking up some of the crew from an American liberty ship which had crated aircraft on deck, she had been torpedoed but not sunk and a flower class corvette was instructed to take her in tow. We were detailed to protect her from further attack and, as some of the crew had abandoned ship and were in a lifeboat, we stopped to pick them up. There were big cod floating on the surface, these had been killed or stunned by the explosion of the torpedo, the crew of Bamborough, anxious to get some fresh fish, fixed meat hooks to the end of boat hooks and lifted them on board. The damaged vessel sank before reaching harbour, the balance of her crew being rescued by the corvette which had taken her in tow.
The approach to Murmansk was through a narrow deep water channel with land rising steeply on either side until one came to where the land opened out thus creating a large bay. Here all the escorts anchored and after one of the early convoys Bamborough Castle was told to berth alongside the cruiser the Belona. I made contact with officers on this vessel and subsequently when the ship berthed in Scapa Flow, on completion of a convoy, one of the officers would telephone my wife, who was then living in Orkney, and report that I was safely back and would soon be in contact. On alternate trips Jean joined me in Greenock while I alternated with the First Lieutenant and went to Orkney, flying by naval plane from Rosyth Airport.
The sequence of events during that winter I can not now remember but there were many tragedies, escorts were torpedoed, some with considerable loss of life but again luck was with me, Bamborough was the only escort which was with every convoy that winter and witnessed all the casualties. Incidents were numerous, some were narrowing as was the loss of the sloop which was approaching the harbour entrance when she was torpedoed and sank in about ten minutes. Many of her crew were in the water, some on carley rafts, but many died of the cold before they could be rescued by any ship. Two days later Bamborough was detailed as the burial ship and all those to be consigned to the deep were delivered in their shrouds. We sailed out with ensign at half mast, crew at attention on the after deck and saluted by all the other ships as we sailed out to deep water and buried our dead. A padre from the aircraft carrier performed the burial service. It was a bitterly cold day, all the crew were at attention on the deck in their best uniforms and could not wear a coat to protect them from the cold wind. As soon as the service was over all those not on duty made for shelter and warmth while those who were on duty got into heavier and warmer clothing. The mood on the ship that day was subdued, in fact it was solemn: the majority were wondering how long it would be before they suffered the same fate.
On one of the voyages a new castle class corvette, on her first convoy, was torpedoed as she approached the entrance to Murmansk. She was taken in tow and eventually beached in shallow water, some of her secret equipment had not been destroyed and on the following day Bamborough Castle took divers from the cruiser to the wreck, they went down with explosives and destroyed the radar and the asdics. While our whaler was acting as the diver's boat we were able to obtain two oerlikon guns which were above water; most useful as replacements during bad weather when guns became frozen and had to be dismounted and taken down for cleaning. With these spares we could maintain a full complement of armament.
It was normal for the escorts to have a couple of days relaxation at anchor in Murmansk before the next convoy was due to proceed for the UK. Prior to the convoy coming out of the harbour the seventh escort group would do an asdic sweep over night in the hope of sinking any of the submarines which were in the vicinity awaiting the merchant ships which they knew were soon due to sail. On one night the Alnwick Castle caught a submarine on the surface and sank her, on another occasion Bamborough Castle's radar picked up an echo close in shore, it appeared to me that a submarine would not be in that area because the water was too shallow, however as we approached the echo disappeared and we picked up the submarine on asdic. That submarine was too close in shore to get into the cold water layer and we were able to sink her on the second attack with the squid. There were no survivors; oil and wreckage floated to the surface.
One of the most frightening occasions that I remember was a 24 hour period when there was virtually no light at all, the seventh escort group had patrolled the area over night and as a trace of daylight came the sloop commanded by our Senior Officer, had her stern blown off by an acoustic torpedo but, as her water tight doors were closed, she did not sink. The two castle class corvettes, Alnwick and Bamborough, were instructed to patrol around her to prevent any further torpedoing and ensure her safety while the convoy was assembling. The submarines were busy that day attacking the merchant vessels as they came out of harbour, three were torpedoed before the escorts got them under control. As the convoy proceeded with all the escorts, including the destroyers and aircraft carrier, it was decided that the damaged sloop would be towed into port, non-essential crew to be taken off by the two escorts. We went alongside first and, in spite of the ships pounding together, the men from the damaged ship leapt in all directions from her deck onto ours; it was quite amazing that no one fell in between or was injured. As we left the damaged ship and proceeded to rejoin the convoy with more survivors on board than the total of our own crew which was about eighty, we saw a flower class corvette torpedoed and she must have been struck in the magazine for she disappeared in a cloud of smoke with no survivors. We had to pass the position where she had just been torpedoed and with all these survivors on board I told the engineer to give us maximum speed and we zig-zagged wildly hoping to avoid the same fate. With all these extra people on board we were running short of food before we got the convoy to its destination, in fact there was only rice, dehydrated potatoes and a few tins of beef or stew remaining as were coming down the west coast of Scotland; approaching the Clyde I sent a signal asking for stores to be supplied on arrival. It was an afternoon when we berthed at Greenock and by the time that our survivors were landed, the stores for the crew had arrived, but there was nothing for the officer's mess, perhaps my signal did not indicate the officer's mess was also depleted. We waited for some time but finally decided to go to the Bay Hotel for a meal and took a bottle of whisky with us. The Bay Hotel would not give us glasses, so not to be out done, we put the whisky in our soup, when they saw us doing this they gave us glasses and we had an evening of relaxation.
While escorting one of the homeward bound convoys towards the end of February or perhaps it was early March when there was a bit of daylight, Alnwick Castle and ourselves were detailed to proceed some ten miles ahead of the convoy to search for and attack enemy submarines which it was reported were in the area. It was a misty day with the visibility of about two miles, suddenly the port lookout on the bridge reported "enemy aircraft approaching." The First Lieutenant, who was on watch, immediately instructed the lookout to man the oerlikon and open fire, he then turned the ship stern on to the approaching aircraft, bringing the enemy into the arc of fire of the after guns. No one knew at that time that these were torpedo carrying aircraft, they came down close to the water and dropped their torpedoes but, as they were under heavy fire from the ship they did this a bit too soon. As the aircraft turned we could see that one of them was on fire but how badly we were unable to determine. The torpedoes which had been dropped passed down both sides of the ship, had the attackers been more efficient and carried out their attack from various angles it is likely that I would not be here today.
It is common knowledge that weather north of Norway in winter is severe and, with continual darkness, it is a most depressing state. That winter, in common with others, storms were frequent, on occasions gale force winds were continuous from beginning to end of the voyage and can recall one particular fierce blow when, overnight, the ships of both convoy and escort were scattered; some, including the cruiser, the aircraft carrier and the destroyers were "hove to" for times. Only one sloop and two corvettes remained as escorts for those merchant vessels which had retained course and speed. On becoming aware of the situation at daylight, with several ships missing, instructions were sent by radio to all ships of the convoy, "Proceed to Thorshaven for regrouping". Those vessels in sight were reassembled and shepherded in to harbour, others eventually arrived, one was missing, believed to have been torpedoed.
On arrival in Greenock in April 1945 my period in command of Bamborough Castle was terminated, I was appointed to command of a frigate building in Dundee. Jean and Patrick, who had spent the Winter in Orkney with my parents, were soon established in the Dundee area while I supervised the building and equipping of this frigate, later to be christened Loch Tralaig.
While we were living in Dundee it became known that their Majesties were to hold an investiture while in residence at Holyrood. Arrangements were then made for two of my crew from Bamborough, who had been decorated after successful action in North Russia, and were then in Greenock, to attend this special occasion and be invested with their medals. I was to get two bars to my Distinguished Service Cross, Sub-lieutenant Johnston was to be invested with the Distinguished Service Cross and Leading Seaman Walden was to receive his Distinguished Service Medal. Unbeknown to me, Orkney had made arrangements for my mother to attend the same investiture to be presented with the MBE for her war time work with voluntary organisations in Orkney. Of course it was a rare occasion on two counts, a mother and son being decorated at the same investiture as well as the Captain and two of his crew presented together to His Majesty. Press photographers were there, the facts and photographs were prominent in the Scottish papers on the following day. A celebratory supper was planned for the evening but Edinburgh was overcrowded, we had failed to book into one of the fashionable restaurants and we spent some time looking round the Princes Street area for somewhere to dine. I cannot remember exactly how we finished up but would not be surprised if we ended up with a fish and chip supper.
The war in Europe came to an end during the construction of my new ship, she was completed in July. Officers and crew were all appointed, sea trials satisfactorily completed and the ship was accepted by myself on behalf of the Admiralty. Dundee to Tobermoray was the next passage on schedule, we spent three weeks there being rushed around for the working up period, this was followed by gunnery and anti-submarine practice at Cambeltown Naval Base before reporting to Greenock.
THE END hope you enjoyed it!
(Note: The extract opens while Magnus was the commander of an anti-submarine trawler in the English Channel as part of the Anti-Invasion Patrol)
We saw two destroyers of whom we had not been advised, went to action stations and simultaneously made an enemy report. The four inch gun was loaded and ready to fire when the ships identified themselves as friendly; had we fired before that identification they would have taken us as enemy and would have soon knocked us about. There were several similar incidents, but none got quite so near to a shooting war. We had occasional breaks when the ship was in Portsmouth, but as that town was being bombed every night there was not much peace, although I was able to get a weekend clear and went to Edinburgh where I had two days with Jean; we got engaged.
During one night, when Portsmouth docks was very heavily bombed, we were lying alongside with part crew onboard. One bomb landed astern of us, another one landed between ship and quay. Neither bomb exploded until the following morning by which time I had moved my ship, the ship astern had not time to move and was severely damaged. It was shortly after this incident that I was relieved of this command and appointed to a flower class corvette HMS Dahlia building in Aberdeen, most convenient; Jean and I got married almost immediately and had nearly three months of married life before the ship was completed.
The First Lieutenant and three junior officers reported for duty some two weeks later, we could not work on the ship but were provided with an office on the quay. Aldridge, the Number One, as he was affectionately known, had been at sea in the merchant service as an apprentice, then he became a London Policeman and served in that force for some years, before being commissioned in the reserve. He had experienced life at sea in a destroyer for four months before his appointment to Dahlia. The three junior officers had served some time as Ordinary Seamen in destroyers before attending an Officer Training establishment and being commissioned as Sub Lieutenants. Their backgrounds were very varied, the oldest, aged about 23, had worked as a clerk in a council office before volunteering for the Royal Navy; the next in age had been a student at Manchester University while the youngest had been completing his schooling at Eton. All three were above average intelligence and keen to prove themselves, which they were soon able to do. Senior Petty Officers joined about the same time and then, shortly before the ship was completed, the remainder of the crew, some fifty "Hostilities Only" seamen, most of whom had never been to sea before, completed the ship's complement. After sea trials the ship was approved, I was satisfied with her performance and that she was satisfactorily completed. I signed, on behalf of Admiralty, for a vessel number J1058, named "Dahlia." That was on 21 March 1941, when I was only thirty one: who, at that age, would have the opportunity today to sign a receipt for a warship.
First stop from Aberdeen was Tobermory. This entailed a passage round the north of Scotland and on this trip I found just how inexperienced the officers and crew were, I was the only one who knew how to take a ship from A to B and there were very few of the crew who could even steer. Tobermory was renowned as the training base for inexperienced corvette crews and we spent three weeks there getting intensive training. The training base was under the command of a retired Admiral, known as Monkey Stevenson, who ran a most efficient establishment and was onboard every ship, as soon as it arrived, summing up the potential of the officer personnel and the Captain. He was frequently onboard when exercises were under way and if he considered any of the officers incompetent or inefficient he would have them removed and replaced by someone else. Every aspect of warfare was experienced during the three weeks in which we were there, personnel became acquainted with the ship, their ship mates, the armaments, the anti-submarine equipment and so on. None of my officer personnel were considered inefficient and I think that we left Tobermory with a satisfactory report. From there, because of a minor problem with the engines, we were sent to Greenock for repairs and while there the Admiralty fitted the ship with the latest anti-submarine radar. Repairs completed, we sailed to join escort group B1 at Londonderry. The first step was to report to the NOIC of Londonderry and then to the Senior Officer of our escort force.
It was not long after this that the group, three destroyers and four corvettes, became the escorts for a convoy bound for America. This convoy went up through the Minches to the north of Lewis and then headed out into the Atlantic. The only two ships of the escort force that had the modern anti-submarine radar were the Monkshood and ourselves. Both ships were instructed not to switch on their radar until told to do so by the Senior Officer but it was only the second day out that Monkshood reported her radar out of action, on being asked why the reply came that instructions were to keep the radar warm every hour and it had gone off while they were warming it up, it was not long after that that our radar did the same and for several voyages both radars were out of action for at least part of the passage. No sooner did we round the butt of Lewis than we ran into a severe westerly gale, two of the merchant ships in the convoy collided and we also nearly had a collision. I had been on the bridge for the first half of the night along with the junior officers and when the First Lieutenant came on duty I thought I could leave him to deal with the situation and went down to have a rest in the wheelhouse, where I had a bench with a pillow. It was not many minutes before the First Lieutenant shouted for me to come back on the bridge, he was in a panic and the ship was heading for the two vessels which had collided. There was time to prevent a collision and we continued on our escort duties leaving a tug to deal with the damaged ships. The First Lieutenant went off duty at 4 o'clock and on his rounds of the ship found the lower mess deck flooded to a depth of two or three inches; washing back and fore in the water were shoes, caps, cigarette packets and pieces of clothing, the men to whom these belonged were either on watch or were lying, very seasick, on the benches. The first thing to be done was to find out from where this water had come and it was discovered that the chain locker was full and overflowing into the mess deck. This was soon pumped dry and we got a portable pump into the mess deck to clear the water from there. The cause of the chain locker being flooded was the heavy seas coming over the bow of the ship, this had torn the cover plates off the spurling pipes and the water had poured into the chain locker, we found ways of preventing this on future voyages.
This was our first experience of really bad weather but it was not long before we found that many things could go wrong under such conditions. Depth charges would break adrift and men had to go onto the after deck, which was awash, and secure these, the asdic house on the bridge became flooded by water coming through the windows, which were supposed to be watertight; the ventilators for the forced draft were occasionally submerged by the sea, the fans sucked the water into the conduits and sprayed it into the mess decks. The biggest enemy with which we had to contend during convoy duties in the North Atlantic was the weather; the ship had an open bridge, no protection from wind, rain, hail or snow and spray was invariably blowing over all. Seamen lookouts were on both wings of the bridge where they were wet and cold; the watchkeeping officers suffered similarly. The only good thing about life on a corvette was that the mess decks were reasonably warm and the men could get their clothes dried when off watch.
Before America became involved in the war, convoys were escorted half way across the Atlantic, the ships then dispersed and proceed independently. The destroyers headed for Iceland to refuel while the corvettes, which had ample fuel, were left to bob up and down, usually in bad weather, for three or four days while waiting for the next convoy to arrive. This convoy would have sailed from Halifax with one or two Canadian destroyers and would be met, first by the corvettes, then by the destroyers. This escort would then screen the ships from U-Boat attack until arrival at UK ports.
While I was on convoy escort duty Jean had produced a baby son whom we christened Magnus Patrick. When he was about six weeks old Jean suggested that she should come to Londonderry where we were based. Accommodation was the problem but I finally found a family who would take my wife and child and on the next occasion we were in Londonderry, between convoys, I went to Aberdeen, collected Jean and with pram, baby's clothing and all the extras; we took the train to Glasgow, and from there to Belfast by ship. This was an overnight passage, next morning we got on the train to Londonderry and finally reached the digs which I had arranged. Having got Jean and Baby into the house and introduced to the landlady I went to Dahlia to find out how things were going and to my horror learned that we were to sail that night because of a ship in distress off the Western Isles. Poor Jean she was left with strangers in a strange area while I disappeared and it was some ten days before we returned. After berthing the ship I went to the lodgings and found that the lady of the house had been taken to hospital, she would not agree to her husband having a lady in the house while she was in hospital, therefore we had to find alternative accommodation. Luck was with us, I found an empty farm house on the outskirts of Deny where no one had lived for some time, it was a bit dirty but the farmer's wife, who lived in the other half of the house, said she would clean it and be ready for us in two days time. When we got there it was reasonably clean and appeared very suitable but there was no electricity: paraffin lamps and a coal fired stove. Jean had not lived with paraffin lamps or a coal fired stove before so I had to introduce her to the cleaning of lamps and the cleaning of flues in the stove and, having got her acquainted with these, I went off again to sea and this time was away for about five weeks. Despite all the problems Jean had managed very well and was very happy with the conditions. We were able to retain that accommodation for about nine months until the ship was due to go on refit, then gave up the house not knowing what the future would hold. It was an unfortunate decision because the ship came back to Londonderry and rejoined the Bl Escort Group. The months which followed were not very happy ones for Jean, she lived in various houses in various parts of Londonderry, none of them entirely satisfactory, until my time attached to Londonderry Escort Force ended, that was at the end of 1943.
America came into the war at the beginning of 1942, and by this time the escort forces of the British Navy had been sufficiently strengthened and were able to escort the convoys all the way to the south of Newfoundland. At that point the Canadian or American escorts took over and our Forces proceeded to Argentia, a sheltered harbour on the south west of Newfoundland. In the bay was a tanker for refueling and alongside the Wharf was an American repair ship to provide us with any services for the ship or personnel; there were doctors and dentists, a nautical optician and excellent repair squads. The crew soon found that there was icecream to be obtained and also that the American sailors were short of alcohol and would buy any rum which had been bottled by the British sailors. The Americans Navy soon complained about the sale of rum to their sailors and we got strict instructions that we were to abide by the rules and water the rum before issue. There was no sale for watered rum.
There were, so called, fast and slow convoys to be shepherded across the North Atlantic, the former had a maximum speed often knots and the latter, eight. In either of these convoys there were ships which could not maintain the requisite speed except in calm weather. The escort stationed astern of the convoy had the unenviable job of endeavouring to protect the stragglers, this entailed much high speed manoeuvring. High speed in the usual North Atlantic winter weather made conditions on board more miserable than normal. The ship buried her bow into the waves and the wind whipped the spray overall and the after deck, which was only three and a half feet above the waterline in the best of conditions, was continually swamped by the waves. On many occasions the convoy was routed so far to the north that we were off the coast of Greenland and then, in the winter months, we had ice forming on deck and rigging. The superstructure became coated in ice, guns and other armaments had to be cleared twice every hour to ensure they were always ready for use; all more cold and miserable work for the crew.
The Captain of a small warship, in time of war, had to be constantly alert and ready to deal with any situation, day or night. Escorting convoys on the North Atlantic was more arduous for the Captain than when his ship was providing the same service in areas where weather conditions were less severe. A slow convoy, during winter months, could take seventeen days from the Irish Sea to off the south of Newfoundland and, during the whole of that time, the ship would be enveloped in sea spray, supplemented by rain or snow. In these conditions the Captain had to be suitably clad at all times, ready to leap from settee to bridge at a moment's notice. There were times when I slept, wearing sea boots and oilskins, and could not go to my cabin for a wash or a shave for several days. Life for watchkeepers, both officers and lookouts, was also wet and miserable, they had virtually no shelter and keeping a lookout in gale conditions was a strain and very hard on the eyes; water, sometimes fresh, sometimes salt, trickled down ones face, into the eyes and also down ones neck.
On several occasions in the spring we met huge icebergs and calculated, on one occasion, that the berg was 600 ft high above the sea level, we used icebergs for gunnery practice but even four inch armour piercing shells did not appear to make much difference to them. Nine tenths of an iceberg is under water so we did not dare to go very near.
In the summer of 1942 Dahlia was sent to London for a refit and for the fitting of a more modern radar; we went into the Royal Docks and were able to give the crew some long overdue leave during the refit which took four or five weeks. During this time Jean and I visited her brother, a doctor in Manchester, we also paid a short visit to Orkney, and had some time living in the Cumberland Hotel in London, a very nice relaxing break. The alterations to the bridge structure made a great improvement to the efficiency of the ship and also to the space on the bridge but there was no more shelter except for me, I got a settee in the new chart house, at least it was dry; the one I had in the wheel house had water coming into it when the wind was on the port side of the ship. The refit ended all too soon and we were back to Londonderry with some of the old crew and some new members. A new First Lieutenant who was most efficient, the important sailors and Petty Officers were still on the ship and we rejoined the B1 escort group which had been on continuous escort duties. Dahlia's first contact with a submarine was shortly after rejoining; it was blowing hard, we were about a mile ahead of the convoy when the asdic operator reported a submarine straight ahead, we hoisted the black flag to indicate that we were making an attack and dropped depth charges on the contact, the weather was such that we did not expect to make a successful attack but at least we had driven the submarine down and prevented her from attacking the convoy. We followed the submarine down between the rows of ships, they opened up to let us go through, and we carried out two more attacks while passing through the convoy but none of them brought any results. As usual we lost contact with the submarine in the disturbed water astern of the convoy but we stayed sitting on top of the anticipated position of the sub until the convoy was well clear. The Commodore altered course when it was dark and before the submarine could come to the surface. Later we heard the U-Boat making a report on the convoy's position course and speed and calling other submarines into attack but it appeared that the alteration of course threw them off the scent and we saw nothing more of that group of submarines.
The worst possible conditions for the escort force protecting a convoy is in a gale combined with a heavy sea; it is then often impossible to see other ships, ones view being obscured by the tops of the waves. Radar and asdic are also less efficient under such conditions. It is also unpleasant for the attackers but conditions were to their advantage, they were difficult to see. The maximum speed of a U-boat when submerged was only six knots but, when on the surface they could attain a speed of twenty knots and were very manoeuvrable, in addition they presented a small target with only the conning tower showing. In heavy weather, during the hours of darkness, they attacked as high speed torpedo boats, proceeding at full speed and attacking from the weather side with the wind and sea following. It was in a north west gale that B1 escort group had its next encounter with the enemy. The convoy was from Halifax to the UK and was about half way when the senior officer was advised that there were several submarines in the vicinity. As darkness fell he relocated the escorts, appointing his destroyer and one other to cover the rear with Dahlia on the port quarter which was the weather side. It was about midnight when action started with the senior officer's ship attacking a submarine with gunfire, forcing it to dive and then dropping depth charges. Having sighted one submarine on the surface the gun's crews were all tense; guns fired immediately when another object was seen above the waves, unfortunately this was the other destroyer protecting the rear of the convoy. Recognition lights were immediately switched on by the ship under attack and no serious damage was done. How many U-Boat attacks were thwarted that night I do not know but Dahlia was able to report that one attack had been depth charged and prevented from reaching the target. It was an exciting and arduous night for everyone as the crew had been at action stations for lengthy periods during the hours of darkness but, when day broke, the senior officer was able to report that all the ships were safe. It appeared that the U-Boats had lost heart for they did not follow the convoy and attack on the following night. Admiralty reported that there were probably ten to twelve submarines in the vicinity that night and the escorts were successful in preventing any of them from getting through to the merchant vessels being protected.
It was about this time, when we were escorting a fast convoy towards America, that Dahlia very nearly came to grief. Weather during this particular winter seemed to be worse than normal and on several occasions we had to contend with gales accompanied by heavy snow showers, during one such period we narrowly avoided a serious collision. Dahlia was in station about a mile ahead of the convoy, zig-zagging back and fore in an endeavour to stop merchant vessels, during the hours of darkness, speeding ahead. The radar was working and had located one ship which was out of her proper position, we closed her and told her to get back into station. Shortly after this, while I was still on the bridge along with the First Lieutenant, keeping a close look out because the radar could not see everything in the heavy sea. Suddenly we saw what appeared to be a ship about 100 yards ahead on our port bow. Immediate action had to be taken and to warn the crew we rang the alarm bells, at the same time I gave the appropriate orders to the Helmsman and to the engine room, "full speed ahead." The Dahlia was very manoeuvreable and swung to starboard quickly but not quite quickly enough and soon we were under the bows of this empty tanker. Her stem struck us a glancing blow some 50 feet from the bow and then, as we rose on the swell she came down, and her starboard anchor went through the foredeck of the Dahlia. How we avoided being sunk was just a matter of good fortune; at one time the flare of the bow of the tanker was right above the heads of us on the bridge, the ships then rolled away from one another on the swell and the only further damage done to Dahlia was a ring bolt knocked off the ship's side. The majority of the crew were on their feet by the time that the ships collided and therefore knew that this was not a normal call to action and the guns crews, as they raced to their action stations, saw this huge tanker almost on top of us.
One person who did not see any of the commotion, did not hear the alarm bells, did not know that the ships had collided was a signal man who had joined the ship some six days previously and was so sea sick that he did not care what happened to the ship and did not even rouse himself from his hammock though the anchor came through the deck perilously close to his head. We were not in anyway unseaworthy and continued to be an escort until the convoy was handed over to a Canadian group and we proceeded to Argentia where the shipwrights came on board and in two days had repairs completed. I had to make a full report of the incident to Admiralty; this was sent with a covering letter from the Group Commander. Some months later ! had a letter from Admiralty stating that the action I had taken to avoid a collision was wrong and reprimanded rne accordingly. My reaction was, "You were not there chum."
Some months after this incident when the weather had considerably improved and we were enjoying a peaceful spell with a convoy travelling from Halifax to the UK. The monotony of the night watch was suddenly interrupted by the lookout reporting a light on the starboard bow. To see a light on the horizon during the war when all ships were in darkness made one speculate; could it be a ship in distress, a lifeboat or an enemy raider disguised and displaying a light to attract the unwary. It soon became evident that the lights were those of a ship; the crew went to action stations and manned all guns not knowing what the consequences were to be. Communication by signal lamp was soon established and the vessel was ordered to stop and report name, port of registry and port of destination. The reply indicating that she was a Swedish vessel bound from the USA to Sweden under a special neutral agreement, and that she had on board fourteen survivors from a British vessel. The Swedish vessel had stopped by this time and we took station on her port side, lowered a whaler and sent a boarding party on board. They reported that she was a genuine Swedish ship and requested that we take from her those survivors who were able to walk. This we did and what a story these men had to tell.
They were part of the crew of a tanker sailing, light ship, in a convoy from England to America for a cargo of oil. On a dark dirty night their ship was torpedoed and the Captain ordered abandon ship. These fourteen men found themselves afloat in a lifeboat as their ship disappeared, when daylight came there was no sign of the convoy, no other lifeboats, nothing but sea and sky. The saviours of this boat load of humanity were the carpenter, who had been born and brought up in Shetland, and the apprentice who had spent his youth messing about in boats. These two, for the others were all engine room staff, handled the boat when detached from the ship and had kept her clear of other vessels. The carpenter and the apprentice recommended that they should sail in a northerly direction in the hope of sighting a single ship or a convoy proceeding on a more northerly route. The euphoria which had sustained them when they realised that they were safe was soon dissipated by the conditions in which they had to exist. For ten days they sailed and bailed, wet, cold and miserable, living on ships biscuits, a little of condensed milk and cold water. On the afternoon of the tenth day spirits were raised; a ship was sited far away to the north, distress signals were fired but there was no response and soon it was dark. Depression and despair ruled that night, some even had suicidal thoughts, but the enthusiasm and determination of the carpenter kept their craft sailing and one can imagine the excitement when dawn broke and there, not too far away, was a ship. Only two distress rockets remained, it was decided that they should be fired, again there was no response from the ship. As the lifeboat sailed northward with a good following wind, it became obvious that the ship was stationary. Eventually they could see the ship was down by the head and the ship's lifeboats were not in the davits. There was a ladder hanging over the side to which the lifeboat was manoeuvered and made fast but despite the shouts of the men there was no response. Who, after eleven days of semi-starvation, could climb the twenty or so feet to safety? The young apprentice tackled it and, on reaching the deck, obtained the necessary rope and a lead block and assisted the carpenter to climb the ladder, then the others, some of whom were unable to do any climbing, were assisted or hoisted on board.
Immersion foot, a swelling due to days of immersion in cold water, affected them all but those who were able to walk found that there was food, tobacco and spirits in plenty also bunks with blankets. After a couple of days to recuperate the Chief Engineer made his way to the engine room along with another Engineer, they worked their way on hands and bottoms down the engine room ladders to the electric generator which they were able to start thus providing light, heat and cooking facilities. It was a super human effort and on the day that power was restored a carpenter made an examination of the ship and confirmed that she was an empty tanker which had been torpedoed forward and abandoned. After some days of rest those who were fit kept watch on the bridge and finally this Swedish vessel was sighted, contacted by signal lamp and assistance requested. They sent over a boat and soon all fourteen survivors were being cared for by the Swedish crew. We eventually landed them in Londonderry but never discovered whether they were the only survivors from that ship or not.
After Germany over ran the north of France she had wonderful harbours for the use of her U-Boats which were thus able to proceed into the Atlantic without having to withstand the problem seas off the north of Scotland. Originally the U-Boats sailed from the French ports in the evening and proceeded on the surface across the Bay of Biscay but, as the radar fitted on British aircraft was improved, they were able to detect and depth charge the submarines which were on the surface. In consequence the submarines proceeded under water and escort vessels were put on patrol across the Bay. In the autumn of 1943 the B1 escort group was detailed to proceed on one of these patrols and what a wonderful change it was for the crew, the weather was glorious, blue skies, calm seas and a steady ship on a glassy sea, this lasted for some two weeks with all the crew basking in the sunshine when they were off watch. None of the crew who had been on Dahlia since her commissioning had seen much sunshine, several of them suffered from minor cuts which went sceptic, the doctors suspected it was lack of sunshine and the spell in the sun did them good. We went from there to Gibraltar and then escorted a convoy from North Africa to the UK.
The convoy was north of the Spanish coast when we saw, high in the sky, a huge aircraft with German markings. The function of these aircraft was to report the course and speed of convoys which they saw to enable Headquarters to pass such information to submarines. It was then that we saw, for the first time, a Hurricane fighter, balanced on runners, and propelled by a rocket, shoot off the deck of a merchant ship, known as a Cam ship. This Hurricane raced after the Folk Wolf aircraft which, having seen the Hurricane being fired off the ship, made for home. We did not see the dog fight but it was only a few minutes before the Hurricane came back and did a victory roll over the convoy, the pilot then jumped out of the plane which crashed into the sea. The pilot, in just his ordinary clothes, came down in his parachute and was then picked up by a destroyer. Admiralty obviously considered that destroying one of Germany's big aircraft and probably protecting the convoy, was well worth the loss of a Hurricane.
A few days of rest in Londonderry was the next item on the programme, the Senior Officer of B1 escort force then advised me that we were returning to patrol in the Bay of Biscay and proceeding to Gibraltar to bring home a convoy. The news quickly spread round the ship and the crew were looking forward to another spell of fine weather, they were not disappointed. The sea was calm again but this time, with the continual sunshine, it was extremely difficult for the asdic to detect anything under water. The sunshine made temperature layers which deflected the asdic beam, we heard lots of porpoises talking to one another but no one obtained contact with a submarine although several depth charges were dropped on echoes caused by temperature gradients. We had sunshine all the way to Gibraltar where the crew were able to get some relaxation, which was unobtainable in Argentia, the only port when on the north Atlantic convoy route.
After four days in Gibraltar the seven escorts in the group went into the strait of Gibraltar to pick up a convoy of ships which had been involved in the north African landings. This was a rather important convoy because a number of the ships had been specially adapted for the north African landings and were being brought home to prepare for the invasion of Europe. There were sixty eight merchant ships and twelve tank landing craft, six on each side of this convoy. It was quite obvious that seven escorts could not give much protection to such a large collection of vessels. The first four days were ones of peace and quiet by which time we were nearing the north of Spain. Admiralty then advised that the Germans were obviously aware of the importance of this convoy and had some sixteen submarines in the anticipated path. Two anti-submarine support groups were ahead of this convoy and, in addition, aircraft from the Azores were patrolling in an endeavour to restrict the movement of the submarines. According to the "History of the War at Sea" the big battle occurred on the night of 27th November, the support groups attacked several submarines and probably sank some but one succeeded in getting through the outer screen of escorts and surfaced, on the eastern side of the convoy, in a perfect position to make an attack. Dahlia was also on the eastern side of the convoy and the radar operator reported that he had, on his screen, what looked suspiciously like a submarine. It was then about three in the morning and action stations were sounded immediately, the ship turned towards the suspected submarine, speed was maintained at no more than ten knots in case of acoustic torpedoes. As we got closer to the submarine she dived and we increased to full speed, shortly after which there was an explosion astern which was assumed to have been a torpedo, fired at us, it had not been activated by the noise of the ship's propellers and exploded as programmed. The disturbance of water where the submarine had dived was still visible as we went over that spot and dropped our depth charges. How much damage was done to that submarine we were never able to establish but there was a considerable amount of oil on the water and Dahlia was credited with a probable sinking. We sat over the estimated position of the submarine until daylight and were then instructed to rejoin the convoy. Submarines continued in the area for the next two days but the extra escorts were able to prevent any further submarines getting inside the screen, and the whole convoy was delivered safely to ports in the UK and the Bl escort group returned to Londonderry.
It was after these operations that Dahlia was instructed to proceed to Liverpool for a refit. I put in all my demands for improvements to the vessel, and met the construction people, but after a couple of days was told that my period in command of Dahlia was completed and I was to proceed on leave. Dahlia had been with that one escort group from the middle of 1941 and I think it was one of the most successful groups on the north Atlantic having lost only a couple of ships during the whole of that period.
It was then a case of saying farewell to officers and crew, some of whom had been on the ship from commissioning, it was with regret that I said farewell to them, particularly to those who had served me so well during those three years. I then collected all my belongings and departed along with family to Orkney where I relaxed for almost three months. I had left Dahlia just before the end of the year and was surprised and honoured to find that I been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in the New Years Honours List and it was most gratifying to see that Commander Bayldon, the Senior Officer of our escort group had been awarded the Distinguished Service Order. He thoroughly deserved that decoration; a most successful Senior Officer of an escort group.
During the period of relaxation in Orkney I was invited to attend an investiture at Buckingham Palace where I would receive the decoration from His Majesty. Each person to be decorated was allowed two guests: Jean and Betty Work were my guests. On this occasion there were approximately one hundred potential recipients of decorations assembled in one of the reception rooms, there we were lined up in the appropriate order and when the time came we moved forward towards the dias on which King George VI stood. On reaching the dias each person was introduced to His Majesty: when my turn came he asked me a few questions about my service, then pinned the medal in the appropriate place on my uniform. Wearing my medal I proudly collected my two guests and we proceeded to enjoy a celebratory lunch.
In early March, when I was feeling refreshed and ready to go back to sea, orders came for me to report to Aberdeen and take command of a Castle Class corvette which was then building in the same ship yard as had built the Dahlia. My new command, called Bamborough Castle, was one of the early ships of this class. She was some fifty feet longer than Dahlia but had roughly the same speed and manoeuvreability, her super structure was much higher, therefore she would be a much dryer ship in bad weather, but it was still an open bridge with no protection from the weather. She was fitted with the latest radar and the latest anti-submarine asdic, the latter was essential because we now carried fewer depth charges and our main anti-submarine armament was a three barrelled mortar, this was fitted forward of the bridge and threw depth bombs some three hundred yards ahead of the vessel; this device was known as "The Squid."
Jean and I along with Patrick lived in digs in Aberdeen while building progressed. The procedure for commissioning the vessel was very similar to that followed on Dahlia, but on this occasion the First Lieutenant and junior officers were more experienced, as were the majority of the crew. After trials and acceptance we sailed again to Tobermory where the routine was the same as before, this time perhaps slightly more rigorous. Towards the end of our period at Tobermory the Commodore, still known as Monkey Stevenson, approached me and suggested that the First Lieutenant should be removed because, in his opinion, he was neither as efficient nor as alert as was necessary. I objected and told the Commodore that I was running the ship and was quite satisfied with the First Lieutenant. The Commodore accepted my decision, probably because he knew that I had a satisfactory service record and had recently been awarded a bar to the Distinguished Service Cross and been promoted to Lieutenant Commander. This promotion brought a welcome increase in wage from eleven shillings a day to eighteen: no increase in daily allowances of three shillings "command money" and another three "marriage allowance." The period at Tobermory being completed we proceeded to Greenock.
Bamborough Castle was not part of any particular group at that time but was temporarily attached to a group escorting convoys to and from Gibraltar. Back at Greenock I was told that, as the ship had been specially fitted for cold water operations, we would be supplied with special clothing for the crew and would join the seventh escort group for operations on the north Russian convoy route. That was in the middle of September 1944, convoys to north Russia no longer operated during the summer months but after mid September there was a certain amount of darkness and it was hoped that ships would be safely convoyed to Murmansk and Arkhangel, the two ports in the north of Russia which were ice free throughout the winter. The escorts for north Russian convoys assembled in Loch Ewe. on the north west coast of Scotland, some of the merchant vessels also assembled there. The convoy, after leaving Loch Ewe, went north past the Orkney islands and was joined by a cruiser, a small aircraft carrier and six destroyers; this well protected convoy proceeded north and was joined by some merchant vessels which had been sheltering in Iceland. The whole body of ships then went well north of Norway so that any enemy aircraft from the bases in Norway would not have enough fuel to press home any lengthy mass attacks, at least this was the objectives. On those first two convoys the weather was clear and we had several hours of daylight which enabled the German aircraft to find the ships and drop their bombs. The fact that the convoy escort was heavily armed with anti-aircraft guns and had an aircraft carrier seemed to deter the enemy. Some of the enemy aircraft were shot down and gunners on Bamborough Castle were delighted to have the opportunity of firing their high angle four inch gun, at aircraft which appeared to be making a bombing run at the ship, all of them were deterred by the anti-aircraft shells exploding in their path. The pilots of the German aircraft were neither as determined nor as skilful in their attacking procedure as one would have expected; perhaps the better and more experienced airmen had been withdrawn for service on the western or eastern fronts. No ships were lost by air attack on the first two convoys and after that it was winter darkness and the position of the ships could not be discovered. In the following spring no serious air attacks were experienced in the daylight which followed the darkness; shortage of aircraft and fuel were probably the determining factors.
By the time the convoy reached the approaches to Murmansk the danger was submarine attack in the Kola inlet which was some sixty miles long and from ten to fifteen miles wide, ships entered it at the eastern end while the entrance to Murmansk harbour was at the western end. This inlet was a favourite of the German submarines because there was a layer of warm water on top and cold water underneath, the submarines knew that if they went down into the cold water the chances of escorts locating them by asdic were small. They would come to periscope depth and if in position would fire their torpedoes and immediately submerge again into the cold water. Virtually every time a convoy passed through Kola inlet ships were torpedoed. One of my early memories was picking up some of the crew from an American liberty ship which had crated aircraft on deck, she had been torpedoed but not sunk and a flower class corvette was instructed to take her in tow. We were detailed to protect her from further attack and, as some of the crew had abandoned ship and were in a lifeboat, we stopped to pick them up. There were big cod floating on the surface, these had been killed or stunned by the explosion of the torpedo, the crew of Bamborough, anxious to get some fresh fish, fixed meat hooks to the end of boat hooks and lifted them on board. The damaged vessel sank before reaching harbour, the balance of her crew being rescued by the corvette which had taken her in tow.
The approach to Murmansk was through a narrow deep water channel with land rising steeply on either side until one came to where the land opened out thus creating a large bay. Here all the escorts anchored and after one of the early convoys Bamborough Castle was told to berth alongside the cruiser the Belona. I made contact with officers on this vessel and subsequently when the ship berthed in Scapa Flow, on completion of a convoy, one of the officers would telephone my wife, who was then living in Orkney, and report that I was safely back and would soon be in contact. On alternate trips Jean joined me in Greenock while I alternated with the First Lieutenant and went to Orkney, flying by naval plane from Rosyth Airport.
The sequence of events during that winter I can not now remember but there were many tragedies, escorts were torpedoed, some with considerable loss of life but again luck was with me, Bamborough was the only escort which was with every convoy that winter and witnessed all the casualties. Incidents were numerous, some were narrowing as was the loss of the sloop which was approaching the harbour entrance when she was torpedoed and sank in about ten minutes. Many of her crew were in the water, some on carley rafts, but many died of the cold before they could be rescued by any ship. Two days later Bamborough was detailed as the burial ship and all those to be consigned to the deep were delivered in their shrouds. We sailed out with ensign at half mast, crew at attention on the after deck and saluted by all the other ships as we sailed out to deep water and buried our dead. A padre from the aircraft carrier performed the burial service. It was a bitterly cold day, all the crew were at attention on the deck in their best uniforms and could not wear a coat to protect them from the cold wind. As soon as the service was over all those not on duty made for shelter and warmth while those who were on duty got into heavier and warmer clothing. The mood on the ship that day was subdued, in fact it was solemn: the majority were wondering how long it would be before they suffered the same fate.
On one of the voyages a new castle class corvette, on her first convoy, was torpedoed as she approached the entrance to Murmansk. She was taken in tow and eventually beached in shallow water, some of her secret equipment had not been destroyed and on the following day Bamborough Castle took divers from the cruiser to the wreck, they went down with explosives and destroyed the radar and the asdics. While our whaler was acting as the diver's boat we were able to obtain two oerlikon guns which were above water; most useful as replacements during bad weather when guns became frozen and had to be dismounted and taken down for cleaning. With these spares we could maintain a full complement of armament.
It was normal for the escorts to have a couple of days relaxation at anchor in Murmansk before the next convoy was due to proceed for the UK. Prior to the convoy coming out of the harbour the seventh escort group would do an asdic sweep over night in the hope of sinking any of the submarines which were in the vicinity awaiting the merchant ships which they knew were soon due to sail. On one night the Alnwick Castle caught a submarine on the surface and sank her, on another occasion Bamborough Castle's radar picked up an echo close in shore, it appeared to me that a submarine would not be in that area because the water was too shallow, however as we approached the echo disappeared and we picked up the submarine on asdic. That submarine was too close in shore to get into the cold water layer and we were able to sink her on the second attack with the squid. There were no survivors; oil and wreckage floated to the surface.
One of the most frightening occasions that I remember was a 24 hour period when there was virtually no light at all, the seventh escort group had patrolled the area over night and as a trace of daylight came the sloop commanded by our Senior Officer, had her stern blown off by an acoustic torpedo but, as her water tight doors were closed, she did not sink. The two castle class corvettes, Alnwick and Bamborough, were instructed to patrol around her to prevent any further torpedoing and ensure her safety while the convoy was assembling. The submarines were busy that day attacking the merchant vessels as they came out of harbour, three were torpedoed before the escorts got them under control. As the convoy proceeded with all the escorts, including the destroyers and aircraft carrier, it was decided that the damaged sloop would be towed into port, non-essential crew to be taken off by the two escorts. We went alongside first and, in spite of the ships pounding together, the men from the damaged ship leapt in all directions from her deck onto ours; it was quite amazing that no one fell in between or was injured. As we left the damaged ship and proceeded to rejoin the convoy with more survivors on board than the total of our own crew which was about eighty, we saw a flower class corvette torpedoed and she must have been struck in the magazine for she disappeared in a cloud of smoke with no survivors. We had to pass the position where she had just been torpedoed and with all these survivors on board I told the engineer to give us maximum speed and we zig-zagged wildly hoping to avoid the same fate. With all these extra people on board we were running short of food before we got the convoy to its destination, in fact there was only rice, dehydrated potatoes and a few tins of beef or stew remaining as were coming down the west coast of Scotland; approaching the Clyde I sent a signal asking for stores to be supplied on arrival. It was an afternoon when we berthed at Greenock and by the time that our survivors were landed, the stores for the crew had arrived, but there was nothing for the officer's mess, perhaps my signal did not indicate the officer's mess was also depleted. We waited for some time but finally decided to go to the Bay Hotel for a meal and took a bottle of whisky with us. The Bay Hotel would not give us glasses, so not to be out done, we put the whisky in our soup, when they saw us doing this they gave us glasses and we had an evening of relaxation.
While escorting one of the homeward bound convoys towards the end of February or perhaps it was early March when there was a bit of daylight, Alnwick Castle and ourselves were detailed to proceed some ten miles ahead of the convoy to search for and attack enemy submarines which it was reported were in the area. It was a misty day with the visibility of about two miles, suddenly the port lookout on the bridge reported "enemy aircraft approaching." The First Lieutenant, who was on watch, immediately instructed the lookout to man the oerlikon and open fire, he then turned the ship stern on to the approaching aircraft, bringing the enemy into the arc of fire of the after guns. No one knew at that time that these were torpedo carrying aircraft, they came down close to the water and dropped their torpedoes but, as they were under heavy fire from the ship they did this a bit too soon. As the aircraft turned we could see that one of them was on fire but how badly we were unable to determine. The torpedoes which had been dropped passed down both sides of the ship, had the attackers been more efficient and carried out their attack from various angles it is likely that I would not be here today.
It is common knowledge that weather north of Norway in winter is severe and, with continual darkness, it is a most depressing state. That winter, in common with others, storms were frequent, on occasions gale force winds were continuous from beginning to end of the voyage and can recall one particular fierce blow when, overnight, the ships of both convoy and escort were scattered; some, including the cruiser, the aircraft carrier and the destroyers were "hove to" for times. Only one sloop and two corvettes remained as escorts for those merchant vessels which had retained course and speed. On becoming aware of the situation at daylight, with several ships missing, instructions were sent by radio to all ships of the convoy, "Proceed to Thorshaven for regrouping". Those vessels in sight were reassembled and shepherded in to harbour, others eventually arrived, one was missing, believed to have been torpedoed.
On arrival in Greenock in April 1945 my period in command of Bamborough Castle was terminated, I was appointed to command of a frigate building in Dundee. Jean and Patrick, who had spent the Winter in Orkney with my parents, were soon established in the Dundee area while I supervised the building and equipping of this frigate, later to be christened Loch Tralaig.
While we were living in Dundee it became known that their Majesties were to hold an investiture while in residence at Holyrood. Arrangements were then made for two of my crew from Bamborough, who had been decorated after successful action in North Russia, and were then in Greenock, to attend this special occasion and be invested with their medals. I was to get two bars to my Distinguished Service Cross, Sub-lieutenant Johnston was to be invested with the Distinguished Service Cross and Leading Seaman Walden was to receive his Distinguished Service Medal. Unbeknown to me, Orkney had made arrangements for my mother to attend the same investiture to be presented with the MBE for her war time work with voluntary organisations in Orkney. Of course it was a rare occasion on two counts, a mother and son being decorated at the same investiture as well as the Captain and two of his crew presented together to His Majesty. Press photographers were there, the facts and photographs were prominent in the Scottish papers on the following day. A celebratory supper was planned for the evening but Edinburgh was overcrowded, we had failed to book into one of the fashionable restaurants and we spent some time looking round the Princes Street area for somewhere to dine. I cannot remember exactly how we finished up but would not be surprised if we ended up with a fish and chip supper.
The war in Europe came to an end during the construction of my new ship, she was completed in July. Officers and crew were all appointed, sea trials satisfactorily completed and the ship was accepted by myself on behalf of the Admiralty. Dundee to Tobermoray was the next passage on schedule, we spent three weeks there being rushed around for the working up period, this was followed by gunnery and anti-submarine practice at Cambeltown Naval Base before reporting to Greenock.
THE END hope you enjoyed it!
