A.N. Other

Occasional Paper 62: The Navy in South Australia from Colonial Days to the Present

September 16, 2019

September 2019

By Dennis J Weatherall JP TM AFAITT(L) LSM, Volunteer Researcher, Naval Historical Society of Australia

It’s reputed that the first sighting of the southern coast of our Great South Land was by a Dutch ship in 1627 the “Gulden Zeepaard” under the command of a Francois Thijssen. The next record accords Rear Admiral Bruny D’Entrecasteaux in the French war ship “La Recherche”. He was looking for La Perouse who was on a voyage of discovery in 1788, in company with Boussole and Astralabe, both the latter seemingly disappearing without trace.

Able Tasman probably saw the same coast even earlier in 1644 from his sketch charts. Another voyager was Lt. John McCluer of the Bombay Marine Company in 1790, followed by Captain Matthew Flinders in 1802-1803. A Lt. James Grant in January 1800, in command of “HMS Lady Nelson” (a 60 ton Brig), discovered and named parts of the coast such as Cape Banks, Cape Northumberland, Mount Gambier, Mount Schanck. He was promoted to Commander after a battle with the Dutch in 1805 off today’s Netherlands and he was remembered with a memorial atop Mt Gambier in 1900 for his discoveries.

The Province of South Australia (as opposed to Colony)[1] was established in December 1833 when the British Parliament passed the South Australian Act. South Australia was in fact called a “Province” rather than a Colony to distinguish it from other Colonies that had transportation as their main source of population.

In the early 1850’s the then Governor Henry Young looked at ways of protecting the Province and in due course informed the “Home Authorities” that “it’d accord great satisfaction and increase confidence to his government if the English Pendant was more frequently seen in these waters” and, more importantly, subject to available funds available to the Provinces and Colonies, if a naval force were to be established on the Australian coast. It appears this submission was considered rather too radical by the “Lords of the Admiralty“.

Recommendations were forthcoming to build forts at The Semaphore, Glenelg, Torrens Island and inland towards Adelaide. The wish list also had a requirement for six gunboats, each with a 100 pounder gun, with additional guns ashore. Port Creek would be defended by torpedoes and a boom, along with telegraphic communications, with the lighthouse augmented with both a permanent and volunteer military force. This was a very ambitious programme on which to embark to defend the Province of South Australia, with a parliamentary grant of 20,000 pounds. Fort Glanville and Fort Largs, plus a military road, eventually materialised.

[1] While the ‘South Australian Act’ may have referred to the establishment as a “Province” the term was not generally used. SA was generally referred to as a ‘Colony’ e.g. Her Majesty’s Colonial Ship Protector.

In the mid 1800’s Britain made it quite clear that her contribution to the security of Australia would be the continued policy of the Royal Navy. It would assume full responsibility on the high seas and no more, therefore the question of adequate local defence measures became paramount during the American Civil War period.

Around the same time an MP, a Mr H.B.T. Strangways, suggested the purchase of a “quick turret ship” capable of carrying two 150 pound shot guns and able to steam at 18-20 knots, which was some speed at that time. Due to a change in Governor the idea was shelved for more than ten years.

In late 1859 the Province bought to the attention of “the powers” there’d been no HM ships in the waters of South Australia for nine years. This brought a flood of visits by RN ships “HMS Esk” (1,169 tons with 21 guns) along with “HMS Charybdis”, “Curacoa”, “Falcon” and “Galatea” soon after the matter had been raised.

HMS Falcon – a Cruiser class sloop of 17 guns, 1045 tons, commissioned 30th March 1855 and part of the Royal Navy Australian Station based ships

An English Act of Parliament in 1859 established a Reserve volunteer force of seamen to be available for general service in the RN in times of emergency to be known as the RNR. The Colonial Defence Act was passed into law in 1865 and this “made it lawful for any Colony to provide, maintain and use vessels of war and to raise and maintain seamen for such vessels, also to raise and maintain a volunteer force to serve in the RN in emergencies, appoint officers, obtain from the Admiralty the services of officers and men, enforce order and discipline, making all subject to the R&I’s of the RN”.

Volunteers raised in the Colonies were to form part of the RNR, the Queen may then accept an offer of use of such vessels and men, with such ships then being a ship of war of the RN. Local ships were granted authority to wear the Blue Ensign with the badge of the Colony in the fly and a Blue Pendant.

It was this Act which made possible the formation of the Naval Brigade, and the building of H.M. Colonial Ship, HMCS Protector in 1884 and her subsequent future service in the RN during the “Boxer Rebellion” in 1900. During this period as HMS Protector she flew the White Ensign and her officers given temporary commissions in the Royal Navy.

In 1862 Colonel F. Blyth of the Volunteer Military Force recommended additional protection for South Australia by stationing a gunboat “at the outer bar” of the Port River. In 1865 a Commander Parkin recommended six gunboats each capable of firing off a 100 pound shot. This recommendation was put forward for consideration after the success of Ironclad Monitors during the American Civil War.

In 1867 the government considered the introduction of a naval training ship for boys who had fallen foul to the courts. There were many against the idea, but eventually it was decided to go ahead with such a programme. A suitable vessel was acquired – the hulk “Fitzjames” – which was found in Victoria (where a similar scheme was already operating) and towed to South Australia, anchored off the coast, and used as a training ship for young boys between 1876 and 1891.

Hulk “Fitzjames” Naval Training Ship for boys in South Australia

In 1876 the question of the purchase of a substantial naval vessel once again was raised. A Defence Commission was established and again it was recommended the Province purchase three gunboats. Treasurer Mr John Colton suggested a “turret ship” similar to the Victorian vessel “Cerberus” and a request was made to Victoria on how much it would cost. The SA Agent General in London, a Mr Dutton, at the time made contact with the Chief Constructor of the RN, a Mr E.J. Reed. He learned such a 1,000 ton ironclad ship carrying 25 ton guns would cost his government 29,500 pounds. The information was filed away for posterity in the SA government archives and didn’t proceed.

In 1877, following the “Russian Scare” of 1876-77, two British government men visited the Australian Colonies and SA Province to discuss their defence with their respective governments. One was a Mr W.F.D. Jervois, a future governor of South Australia. They recommended all Colonies/Provinces acquire gunboats or torpedo boats and man them with locally-recruited men for the protection of their local ports.

Another suggestion by Jervois was to purchase a vessel of 2,500 tons, ironclad with ten inch armour and heavy guns. Such an outlay – the amount of 150,000 pounds – wasn’t again all that palatable to the tax payers of SA, so the suggestion went nowhere for another five years.

Once Jervois became governor of SA (in October 1877) he suggested to the government they should hire British firm (Sir) William Armstrong & Co of Newcastle-on-Tyne to build its new naval vessel the “Protector”. The ship was constructed according to the “flat-iron” gunboat design, first introduced during the Crimean War.

Originally estimated that such a vessel would cost 40-50,000 pounds, it was to be the largest vessel ordered by any Colony or Province at 188 ft long, 30 ft beam and 12 ft 6 in draft. Propulsion was via two compound surface condensing engines generating 1,500 hp giving a top speed of 14 knots. For extra range Protector was fitted with a Schooner rig and flying topsails.

Protector was launched in early 1884 and commissioned the same year on the 19^th June – her first CO was a Commander John C.P Walcott RN. Her delivery passage to Port Adelaide via the Suez Canal arrived on station 30^th September 1884. Protector served SA for fifteen years up until 1900 when she was offered up to the Imperial government as part of the expedition to China and the Boxer Rebellion. Captain William Rooke Creswell CMG had previously served in the SA Colonial Navy but at the time of his appointment to be CO for the China Rebellion was Commander of the Queensland Maritime Defence Force.

On her return to Australia from China on the 1^st January 1901 she was just in time to be transferred to the new Commonwealth of Australia Naval Force and became HMAS Protector. There’s much more to tell about this gallant ship and we’ll leave its war time service and post service to another paper.

Rewinding back to 1870’s and Colonial times in South Australia. A site was selected for its strategic importance on the North Arm of the Port River and a Naval Store was established at Largs Bay. This depot was used for Naval Reserve training and the stowage of emergency items for sea rescue.

In the early 1880’s a temporary Torpedo Station was erected at this site which was later replaced by a more substantial building, some 110 ft in length, and built by the Naval Reservists. The new building consisted of a store room, lecture room and a residence for a torpedo officer – construction was in galvanised iron. A jetty was also built into deep water with a railway track system to handle stores and torpedoes. The “Station” was extended twice in 1890 and 1891 by the crew of HMCS Protector.

This torpedo station was intended to protect Port Adelaide in any hostilities, by a boom of heavy chains across the river and in turn by a gun battery. The Station could also mine the Port River as required – the government of the day acquired sufficient mines that were never used. On becoming obsolete and were in due course destroyed.

Eventually, post Federation, a Torpedo Boat was acquired in 1905. Better late than never as the saying goes! The Station was closed and equipment dismantled and transferred to the new Naval Depot at Birkenhead which was established in 1915 to replace the Largs Bay site. Birkenhead was located some 14 kms NW of Adelaide City central business centre on the Lefeure Peninsula, covering an area of 30 square miles. A Naval Drill Hall was built on the location in 1919 and is significant for its association with the early days of the Naval Reserve in South Australia and eventually with the RAN until its closure in 1990.

Between the wars, the base supported visiting fleet assets and the local Port Division of the RANR. In WWII it was commissioned as a Naval Shore Establishment as HMAS Cerberus IV on the 13^th September 1939 and a year later, 1^st August 1940, was recommissioned as HMAS Torrens after the river that flows through Adelaide and the River Class Torpedo Boat Destroyer of the same name. Torrens was disposed by sinking in 1930.

HMAS Torrens D67 commissioned 1916, decommissioned 1920, RAN Image

Post WWII, HMAS Torrens returned to its peacetime routine of providing a naval presence in South Australia, assisting visiting fleet ships and the base for the RANR training once more.

On the 1^st March 1965, Torrens had another name change and recommissioned as HMAS Encounter which perpetuated the name of the former Light Cruiser HMS Encounter built between 1901 and 1905.

Encounter was assigned to the Australian Station and when the RAN was formed it was renamed HMAS Encounter. The name also commemorates the meeting of two great naval explorers, Captain Matthew Flinders RN and French Captain Nicolas Baudin, off the South Australian coast in 1802.

The establishment, HMAS Encounter was decommissioned on the 21^st March 1994 so ending more than one hundred years of permanent naval presence in the Port Adelaide area. The last Commanding Officer was Commander Brian Gorringe ADC RAN.

Crest of the Shore Establishment HMAS Encounter – Adelaide SA

Naval HQ SA – Keswick Barracks South Australia

A Naval Support Office was subsequently established at Keswick Barracks in June 1994. It is located on the southern outskirts of the Adelaide parklands and shares its presence with the Army Headquarters for SA. In 1998 the establishment was renamed “Navy Headquarters South Australia”, its main function being to provide administration support to Naval personnel serving with various Defence projects in South Australia. These include; RAAF Edinburgh, DSTO Salisbury, ASC Osborne, along with Reserve personnel living in SA and detachments of both the RAN and RANR Bands.

References:

Commonwealth of Australia Archives, Canberra

Department of Defence web site

Records and Register Commonwealth Militia – Reserves

South Australian Heritage data base

South Australian Government Register 10 Jul 1886 + 28 Feb 1891

South Australian State Library data news article Robert Thomas 1891

South Australian Defence of the Colony-Province 26 Mar 1859

Successful Torpedo Practice Register 27 Jul 1885

Naval Defence Act of SA 15 Nov 1887

Information article HMCS Protector 23 Sep 1884

SA History Hub – Protector Warship of SA

Sea Power Centre Australia

Colonial Navies of Australia

National Archives – Coastal Fortifications South Australia 1800’s.

Occasional Paper 63: Malta Revisited: Wartime Memories of HMAS Vendetta’s Malta Sojourn in World War II

September 16, 2019

September 2019

We are indebted to ex Supply Assistant Gordon Hill for this wonderfully illuminating description of his wartime service in the destroyer HMAS Vendetta when based at Malta. His story was first published in the June 2010 edition of the Naval Historical Review, available on the Society website.

The George Cross Island Association Reunion in 2004 gave me the opportunity to revisit Malta. I knew that if I put off visiting the Island again after 64 years it was doubtful I would ever do so. Visiting Grand Harbour, the Docks, the infamous ‘Gut’, Valetta, Sliema, the country towns and villages evoked memories of both happy and sad days of Malta at war.

HMAS Vendetta and the four other destroyers of the V and W squadron from Australia were assigned to the 10th destroyer squadron of Admiral Cunningham’s Mediterranean fleet at Malta. We arrived in December 1939 and were soon exercising at sea. The war had not reached the Med’ and with the French fleet as allies we sailed supreme in Mare Nostrum, as the Romans called it. Two battle fleets were a magnificent sight and we five little Australian destroyers were proud to be a part of it; destroyer escort to this mighty armada.

We escorted convoys taking troops to Marseilles, exercised in the Atlantic and visited Gibraltar.

On 5 March 1940 I had my 21^stbirthday in Marseilles, visiting the cabarets and dancing the night away. The French and British armies in the north would defeat the Germans, Poland would be liberated and the war would be over in no time. How quickly things changed. We evacuated troops from Marseilles to Palestine, the French fleet became our enemies and we returned to Malta.

Vendetta was feeling her age after months at sea and it was decided to put her in dock at Malta for a refit. Grand Harbour was full of ships, plenty of sailors went ashore enjoying themselves. One favourite place in Valetta was ‘The Gut’ a street full of bars. I had a memorable evening with two shipmates and two English squaddies (soldiers) in a room over ‘Dirty Harry’s’ Bar. We sang and danced and one girl did the ‘Dance of the Seven Veils’. One soldier who had a magnificent voice and sang ‘My Prayer’ and ‘Indian Summer’, two songs I will never forget.

The ship’s company was divided in two. One half went to live and work with the British army RA 4^thCoast Regiment and the other half, which I was unfortunate enough to be in, left to work on the ship during the day and to live in the NAAFI canteen. The canteen had facilities for showers and meals but we had to sleep on mess tables or benches, which at the time we thought nothing could be worse.

In dock Vendetta had one set of torpedo tubes removed and a high angle AA gun fitted, a 0.5 multiple machine gun replaced the small gun between the funnels, the mainmast lowered and sundry other work done by the dockyard workers. We carried out general maintenance and cleaned up the mess the dockyard workers invariably left behind each day. The upper deck soon had a new look. The boilers had been cleaned and the work on the engine refit commenced.

HMAS Vendetta wearing camouflage and new pennant no D69 which was changed in May 1940

On the 10 June I left the ship and was walking to the canteen to shower and spend the evening ashore when two army officers excitedly told me ‘the balloon has gone up’ That expression took a while to sink in but I soon realised that Italy had come into the war. The immediate fear was an Italian invasion by sea and air.

Italy had a menacing naval potential. Her fleet boasted 5 battleships, 25 cruisers, 90 destroyers and nearly 100 submarines. Admiral Cunningham decided to move the units of his fleet in Malta to Alexandria leaving just a few destroyers and other small ships. Vendetta’s refit crew now became dockyard defence and we carried a 0.303 rifle or if lucky a 0.45 revolver with us at all times to guard against a parachute invasion.

Living in the NAAFI canteen was bad enough but we were now to be quartered in a tunnel alongside the ship in the graving dock. Fifty men took their hammocks and laid them on the damp tunnel floor and turned in. Next morning we were covered by bites from fleas that infested the walls of the tunnel. The only relief was to dive into the harbour. That tunnel was our home for four weeks while we worked on the ship.

The bombing started early on 11 June. Valetta, the harbour and surrounding towns were bombed eighty times, sometimes up to eight air raids a day up to the time when we left on 8 July with the engine refit not completed. The siege of Malta had begun. Many people left their homes to live in the catacombs, ancient tunnels and caves and to cut air raid shelters in the soft limestone cliffs.

The only air defence was four Gloster Gladiators left behind by the navy. The Maltese people watched these planes gallantly take off each day to fight the Italian bombers. One of the navy planes was shot down and the people named the remaining three Faith, Hope and Charity. They gave a good account of themselves and shot down or disabled a number of bombers before they too met their fate. The plane christened ‘Faith’ was not badly damaged and after the war was restored and is now in the museum in Valetta.

Frantic efforts to supply the Island with troops, supplies and equipment for the army and air force through Gibraltar in the west and Alexandria in the east meant Malta Grand Harbour was once again full of ships and a target for the bombers. On one occasion one ammunition ship was on fire and another was sunk by navy divers attaching limpet mines to avoid it blowing up. Even though some supply ships were sunk, navy divers recovered stores from some sunken vessels. The harbour became a graveyard for a number of sailors, soldiers and dockyard workers unloading ships.

Italian bombing of Grand Harbour Malta, June 1941

On one occasion I was assigned to a working party to load depth charges on to a truck and take them to Ranella wireless station. This was the main WT station on the Island. We set up the depth charges as demolition charges in a number of the tunnels that made up this vast underground complex. I don’t think I was much help in handling 350 pound depth charges I only weighed 8 ½ stone and was sacked from a 6 inch guns crew at the training depot in Victoria because I could not lift a 112 pound shell off the loading tray

Soon after Italy came into the war an Italian passenger ship the El Nil was close to Sicily and trying to get to its home port when one of our aircraft spotted it and made it heave to. Vendetta was duty boat for the day and even in dry dock had to provide a boat crew if required. We were given the job of providing a boarding party to take over the passenger ship and I with others were roused from our tunnel quarters, armed and dispatched by a fast patrol boat to sea. We boarded El Nil which was two days sailing out of Malta. My job was to guard the engine room crew. Others took over the wheel house, bridge and other positions. The crew and passengers did not appear to resent our presence or resist. In fact, that night when relieved of my watch I slept comfortably in a cabin and next day ate my meals in the dining room with the passengers. A real contrast from our flea infested tunnel and NAFFI meals.

The Italian air force decided to have an air raid just as we were entering harbour. Pandemonium broke out among the passengers and crew. They tried to lower the life boats, and really panicked. Fortunately we had only a short distance to go to secure the ship alongside a wharf. When the air raid was over we managed to get everyone ashore and the army took them away as POW’s

After several attempts to leave Malta with a convoy, including our captured ship El Nil we finally dodged the lurking submarines and newly laid mines and proceeded to Alexandria which we reached on 13 July 1940. Upon our departure from Malta our C.O. LCDR Rhoades received a message from the Vice Admiral Malta praising the work he and his crew had done in improving the Island’s defences. The message spoke of the astonishing results produced by Vendetta’s crew who, in true Australian fashion, turned their hands to everything. The El Nil was turned into a hospital ship some time later. We spent the next two months escorting convoys of troop ships to Malta and screening ships of the covering cruisers and battleships.

We once again entered Grand Harbour Malta on 11 October 1940 and proceeded to our old place in the graving dock and our tunnel accommodation to complete our engine refit. Some German dive bombers had joined the Italians and inflicted heavy damage on ships in the harbour. The AA defence had been strengthened and now 4.5 AA guns, Bofors and multiple pom poms managed to shoot down a number of bombers. The RAF had some Spitfires and other aircraft and it looked less likely that Italy could take the Island.

One of our sailors had a portable gramophone and a few records which he played in our tunnel to entertain us. One record was Gracie Fields singing Gounod’s ‘Ave Maria’. The memory of the constant playing of that record later evoked such strong emotions in me that for many years I would become profoundly upset when I heard it played.

On the 13 September the long expected Italian invasion of Egypt from Libya began and their forces occupied Sidi Barini . On 28 October the Italian army invaded Greece. Vendetta, still in dock in Malta was like a greyhound straining at the leash to get the refit completed . We had missed a naval battle before by being in dock.

With the arrival of the Luftwaffe in Sicily only 60 miles from Malta bombing intensified. Life in the underground shelters, with food and fuel running short people were getting desperate. No pets were allowed to be kept. Babies were born and people died in their air raid shelters. We finally sailed from Grand Harbour on 10 November escorting the monitor HMS Terror to Suda Bay, Crete which was being set up as naval support base for the military reinforcement of Greece.

Our last visit to Malta was when we escorted a convoy from Alexandria arriving on 26 November 1940. This was a particularly hazardous trip. Several troop and supply ships were sunk by submarines and bombers. There was to be no further attempt to get supplies to Malta from both the east and west Mediterranean for some time. The navy even resorted to delivering aviation fuel to the RAF in Malta by submarine, carried in 4 gallon tins. In harbour, our ‘gashman’ was accused of selling our food scraps to people at the dockyard gate for a penny a plate, instead of feeding them to his goats. Goats were the only supply of milk as the Island land was too poor to support grazing cattle. The milkman came to your door or air raid shelter and milked the goats into any container you had.

In April 1942 HM King George Vl awarded the George Cross to the Islanders of Malta and Gozo as a tribute to their gallantry. The siege went on and the people were at the point of giving up the struggle when in August the ‘Pedestal’ convoy, after the loss of many ships (including the aircraft carrier Eagle) got through from Gibraltar. The tanker Ohio made history by delivering vital fuel, though badly damaged and finally sinking at the wharf. While this was considered the end of the siege, it was some time before other convoys got through to supply food to the starving people.

HMAS Vendetta went on in 1942 to make a name for herself in other parts of the Mediterranean, North Africa, Tobruk, Greece and Crete. Malta was in the past. The feather bed in the Emirates Airways hotel in Dubai on my return to Brisbane was a vast contrast to a hammock on the dirt floor of our tunnel dockside in Malta. All just a part of history.

A little about the author:

Gordon Hill is a current member of NHS. He joined the RAN as a Supply Assistant in 1938.. After initial training at Flinders Naval Base he was posted to HMAS Vendetta. In December 1939 the RAN destroyer squadron was sent overseas to join the Royal Navy East Mediterranean Fleet in Malta. He served in the Mediterranean in Vendetta until the middle of 1941 when transferred to HMAS Perth. After suffering bomb damage in the evacuation from Crete, Perth returned to Australia for repairs.

Gordon next joined HMAS Colac in 1942 and after a few trips to Milne Bay was posted to HMAS Magnetic at Townsville, to start up and run a supply base. His next posting was to the Combined Operations training base HMAS Assault at Port Stephens. He then returned to Milne Bay becoming Australian Liaison Officer with the American Supply Base. After the end of the war in 1945 he was involved with the disposal of surplus naval assets in North Queensland until discharged from the RAN in 1950.

Gordon later joined the Commonwealth Immigration Department as a Supply Officer and helped run migrant camps for displaced persons from Europe at Brisbane and Townsville, and set up another in Cairns. He became an accountant in Cairns and later Brisbane where he retired in 1980.

Occasional Paper 61: From a Periscope to a Cricket Pitch in a Matter of Days: The Surreal Nature of War

August 3, 2019

August 2019

By Florence Livery

My father, Panos (known as Pino) George Livery died in 1996. Fortunately for us, he left behind a very rich source of history, his World War II diary, his collection of photographs and postcards and his unpublished memoirs. These memoirs include the war years and his life growing up in Ingham, North Queensland. It is these records that I have used as the basis of this article.

Try to picture this. It is 1923, big George and tiny Evangelia, with three-month-old Panos and two-year- old Constantine, have just sailed half way across the world from the remote Greek island of Kastellorizo and disembarked at Ingham Railway Station. Uncle Jimmy had urged them to come to the tropics, to come to North Queensland where they would find their pot of gold. ‘The rainbow ends here,’ he told them.1 Ingham, a small cane-growing town in the middle of nowhere, the small Greek community at the bottom of the pecking order.

Protestants, Catholics, Italians and last of all, the Greeks. Before George knew it and after many arguments, Jimmy had left Ingham. ‘I’m not wasting my time here. I’m heading south to seek my fortune.2 George and Evangelia were left stranded as three more children arrived in quick succession. They persevered with their minimal English, worked hard to get by in the tropics as best they could in the face of heat, humidity and floods. The boys were naughty and mischievous, with boxing lessons by their father a must. Then along came the 1930s and the Great Depression. What would save the boys from this? WWII of course!

Figure 1: Christmas Day 1939 Ingham, Pino honing his boxing skills

Figure 2: mid-1930s Ingham, Evangelia Livery and her 5 children, Pino left rear;

The three older boys could not wait to enlist. In 1942 Pino enlisted in the Navy, Con was already serving in the Army and a year down the track Argus would join the Air Force. Three sons at war.

Six months after enlisting, Pino was on board HMAS Canberra in the Pacific Ocean where he faced what I would call his first nightmare. I must stress that these are my words, not his. Pino never used such confronting words in his memoirs. He just told it like a yarn. To him it was part of the journey.

On 9 August 1942, HMAS Canberra absorbed 24 torpedo hits within two minutes from enemy fire3 and this was only the beginning. Both boiler rooms were hit and consequently steam to all units immediately failed. All power for pumps, firefighting and armament had gone. Pandemonium was magnified as the shellfire hit the gun deck and the bridge where Captain Getting was mortally wounded. In the fire, rain and dark, the ship listed and the call came to abandon ship. 4 Where was Pino? Five decks below in the cordite handling room, along with seven others, trapped, the hatch sealed from above for fear of fire spreading and exploding the ammunition. No power. No air-conditioning. No lighting. Seven men taking it in turns to bang on the hatch with an iron bar, precariously perched on the upper rungs of the ladder. Fatigued bodies, no ventilation and no upper body strength. Luckily, over an hour later someone came their way looking for dead bodies, heard the noise and opened the hatch. The boys eventually got to the top, the fire had spread, the ship was going down fast and other allied vessels were under fire as they attempted to pick up survivors. To me the most telling part of this story comes next, when Pino said to his mate George Smallwood, after being on the upper deck for a couple of hours, ‘George, I am all wet, buggered and nervy. I’m getting on the next ship that pulls alongside no matter what.5

Figure 3: The WWII ‘Three Star’ Female Relative Badge issued to Evangelia Livery, July 1945

Figure 5: 1942 Pino, Luna Park, Melbourne

In time, along came USS Blue and George jumped first. It was only George’s outstretched hand from the other side that got Pino over. George called out from USS Blue, ‘When the ships become level, jump and grab the handrail and I will grab your hand. It was only two feet but if misjudged he could have fallen through the gap. As Pino reflected, ‘The bloke before me missed.6 Imagine what else he saw and tried to erase from his memory.

Pino’s parents received two telegrams. The first, ‘Sorry your son has died at sea. ’ The second, a few days later, ‘Correction, he survived!’ Pino was granted 14 days Survivor’s Leave – 84 dead, 109 physically injured and an untold number emotionally scarred before his very eyes.

Figure 6: August 1943, Ingham, Pino on Survivor’s Leave

Pino then spent the next few months based at HMAS Brisbane carrying out boom duties whilst patrolling the coastal waters. On 2 February 1943 he was drafted to HMA London. The Royal Navy (RN) had offered the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) HMS Shropshire as a replacement for HMAS Canberra. Pino became a member of the small HMS Wolfe draft, one of several contingents funneled across the world to pick up HMAS Shropshire.

Once Pino was five decks down below wondering whether he would ever see daylight again and several weeks later, on board USS Hermitage (troop transport), he was greeted by the iconic Aloha Towers Lighthouse as they pulled into Honolulu Harbour. Six hours shore leave gave Pino just enough time to visit Waikiki Beach and be photographed against the artificial backdrop of the velvet green Kalaupapa Cliffs, smooching up to a hula girl, his pal doing likewise to make up the foursome.

Figure 7: February 1943 Hawaii, Pino left

Seeing the world with his mates, a few days later Pino landed at San Francisco, followed by seven wild and wonderful days travelling overland to the east coast. As one of the boys said, ‘The next seven days were pure luxury for an 18-year-old Ordinary Seaman.’ 7 Imagine the excitement of these young sailors, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge on arrival, then off to places like Reno, Salt Lake City, the Rocky Mountains, Denver, Omaha, Cheyenne, Chicago, Indianapolis and Cincinnati. There were major stops and minor stops as they travelled in the stylish air-conditioned Pullman rail cars including a porter assigned to each car who attended to their every need. Meals were taken in the dining car with excellent food, (a welcome break from powdered eggs, salted meat and dehydrated vegetables) and a good night’s sleep was assured as the seats converted to comfortable bunks, (a vast improvement on hammocks).8 The train terminated at Newport News and the boys were then ferried across to the Norfolk Naval Shipyards.

On arrival at Norfolk, Pino and his mates were immediately assigned to HMS Wolfe, a submarine depot ship. Two days later they pulled out of dock and headed for New York City, sailing up the Hudson River past the Statue of Liberty berthing just a few blocks from Times Square. Five glorious days in New York awaited them and to fill in those hours on leave, between duties and awaiting orders, the party just got bigger and better! As Pino said, ‘It was just like a merry-go-round,9 as he saw the sights of New York, movies and shows, dropping in on the Canteens provided by the American Homefront and always ending up at Jack Dempsey’s Bar. Pino even got a glimpse of his movie idols Dona Drake and Jane Wyman at the Stage Door Canteen. Careless, reckless and free! Not bad for a boy from Ingham!

Figure 10: 1943 Postcard, Stagedoor Canteen, New York City

Figures 11 to 13: Samples from Pino’s WWII Comic Postcard Collection

The party however, was about to come to an abrupt end. On 18 March 1943 HMS Wolfe pulled out of Pier 87, farewelled its neighbour at Pier 88, the 80,000 ton French liner SS Normandie which was lying on its side and steamed down the Hudson River into the Atlantic Ocean. As they sailed up the coast into Canadian waters they picked up other ships to form Convoy HX230, consisting of 46 merchants and 21 escorts.

As the winds blew a gale and they entered the icy Atlantic waters, little did Pino realize that the two preceding allied convoys, Convoy HX229 and Convoy SC122 were experiencing one of the greatest convoy battles (and German success) of the WWII Atlantic Campaign. Running in tandem but sailing independently, these two convoys were slaughtered by 38 U-boats from three wolf packs in a single sprawling action. The double battle involved 90 merchant ships and 16 escort ships. More than 300 allied seamen died and 22 allied merchant ships were sunk whilst one U-boat went down, taking with it all 49 of its crew. Wanting to follow-up promptly on these successes, Admiral Karl Donitz formed two new wolf packs and assigned them to the mid- Atlantic Air Gap. Convoy HX230 was identified in radio intelligence as the target of these two packs – the 17 strong Seeteufel (Sea Devil) and the 19 strong Seewolf (Sea Wolf).10 Nightmare number two for Pino was about to commence!

Surrounded by a false sense of security, Pino initially did not fear the U-boats, even though whilst on board Lord Haw Haw11 used his scare tactics over the airwaves, ‘You will not reach Scotland. Our U-boats packs will get you!

Figure 14: March 1943 HMS Wolfe, Pino preparing to cross the Atlantic

The following extracts from Pino’s 1990 memoirs13 interwoven with entries from his 1943 war diary however, reveal the emotional rollercoaster Pino experienced whilst crossing the Atlantic.

…We were right in the middle of the pack and the ocean was so rough that I thought they could not possibly line us up. At best, I thought, the stragglers could be knocked off but even then, it would be difficult as one minute they were on waves that took them up 60 feet and the next minute they were on waves that took them down 70 feet. At times we were going every which way – forwards, backwards, up and down, port to starboard. You could not even see the ship next to you, that’s how rough the Atlantic was and try sitting down and eating from a plate! Impossible and this went on for a week, day in, day out.

…But even in blustering and squalling conditions somehow the U-boats did get amongst us. The corvettes worked overtime but the best they could do was to rescue the survivors before the ocean swallowed them up. No other ship could stop, otherwise they would be sitting targets for a torpedo. The U-boats would stay and sort out their prey until the corvettes came along, when they would quickly dive away. All the poor corvettes could do was to drop a depth charge and hasten away. The U-boats were doing exactly as they pleased.

Diary entry 25 March 1943 – ‘Sighted iceberg, ship’s steering broke, ship nearly overturned’’

…At dusk on 25 March 1943, in very cold and troubled conditions, our captain advised us that HMS Wolfe’s steering had gone amiss and immediately placed all personnel to action stations, warning that because of the rough seas and lack of steering, to be prepared for anything, even to abandon ship.

Diary entry 26 March 1943 – ‘Everyone frightened, submarines around us and destroyers signaling, ships blowing sirens …. . Couldn’t sleep that night, ordered to sleep in clothes. ’

…The hooter blew constantly as we gradually fell behind the convoy. Soon we were all alone. At least, by now it was night. A corvette came close by, more of a gesture of help as the sea was tossing it around like a tennis ball. Scared and frightened, we thought that the end was near, especially when waves with such massive force covered the ship. At times the ship was absolutely swamped but miraculously it came up, again and again. That was the night of nights. No steering, U-boats, weather that was too rough to call stormy and on daybreak the convoy was lost from sight. By now, we had not slept for 48 hours and had eaten very little, but we did manage a little drop of rum to settle our nerves. Being an RN ship we received our daily ration of Jamaican Rum. You could feel it doing you good.

…The engineers worked on. By late morning, to our relief, our captain advised us that all had been repaired and we would hasten to join the convoy. 24 hours later we had repositioned ourselves as near to the centre as possible.

Diary entry 28 March 1943 – ‘Liberty ship hit by torpedo, drops back, can’t say if sunk …. Played poker all night, couldn’t sleep, too rough;’

…On nearing Iceland the convoy changed course to east south-east as the five Canadian corvettes were replaced by two British corvettes… but the reality of it all was said by the Pommy sailor on my watch, ‘Look chum, every trip you make across the Atlantic is in the laps of the Gods. ’ I really believed him. I was wrong to underestimate the power of the U-boats. No matter how rough the seas were the U-boats were always there, their periscopes skirting the outer edges of the convoy. They took their time and knocked off the larger ships, not bothering about the smaller ones, targeting the American Liberty cargo ships, which they knew would be worth their while.

Diary entry 29 March 1943 – ‘Sight aircraft from land bases, everyone happy;’

…However, it soon became a different story the day land-based aircraft took over patrolling the convoy. What a relief it was to see them flying over. All that day I did not see one periscope through the binoculars. To see one periscope was bad enough but to see two or three on the one day was terrifying. They just hunted in packs and now I say, 45 years later, thank God the seas were so threatening.

On 2 April 1943 HMS Wolfe split from the convoy, headed for Scotland and sailed up the Clyde River. At Gourock, the Shropshire draftees farewelled their pals and caught the train to London. With just enough time to have supper at the Westminster YMCA and squeeze in a look around the abbey they boarded the night train to Chatham Naval Dockyards, Kent where Pino first met HMS Shropshire.

Diary entry 2 April 1943 – ‘She looked like a factory, dirty, old and it was in a stinkin’ condition, looked like a scrapheap. ’

For three long months Pino was stationed at Chatham waiting for the Shropshire’s refit to be completed, confirming his initial impressions. A massive job was required.

Although Captain JA Collins RAN assumed command on 7 April 1943 and she was commissioned as HMAS Shropshire on 20 April 1943, HMS Shropshire was not formally handed over to the RAN until 25 June 1943. During this period, although they were officially part of the Shropshire crew and slept on board, all of the services were provided in the dockyard, and depending on the stage of the refit and the associated changing basins, at times the crew had to walk several hundred yards for messing and toiletries.14 Hundreds of dockyard workers swarmed the ship which made living conditions uncomfortable and disconcerting. The weather and continual air-raids were also not conducive to a happy crew.15

Pino was assigned to the port of the ship and the usual paint chipping, painting and cleaning was the order of the day as well as never ending training courses (radar, gunnery, damage control and training cruises on other ships), not to mention regular pep talks by Captain Collins as he attempted to keep the crew motivated and occupied. There were visits and addresses by dignitaries such as Stanley Bruce, the Australian High Commissioner and Doctor Evatt, the Australian Minister for External Affairs. Even Lord Haw Haw spoke to the crew, albeit indirectly, when he was heard to say on German radio on 18 May 1943 that the Shropshire would never reach Australia because they knew the departure date.

Figure 15: 1943, Pino’s paybook, HMA London Depot

What did the crew do for these three months? Evidence from Pino’s war diary is very scant during this time but a look through his WWII pictorial collection and his 1985 travel diary17 suggest that although they were kept busy by day, the crew were allowed plenty of leave, both daily after 1600 hours and overnight to relieve their boredom and tensions.

Diary entry early June 1943 – ‘We used to go to London every weekend and go into the town of Chatham every week day; also had six days leave, went to Edinburgh, very nice, seen bridge and Lock Lomond. ’

His postcard collection indicates that Pino certainly saw all of the major sights of London including the ruins caused by the Blitz. Off to Scotland for six days in late April, Pino also witnessed the sights of Edinburgh and the surrounding countryside. Several addresses in his log book also suggest a little female company did not go astray including a Miss A Young of Edinburgh and a Miss C Cliphane of Friarton, Perth.

Figure 16: April 1943 visit to The Firth of Forth, Edinburgh, Pino 2nd from right

Figure 17:1943 Postcard from the Forth Bridge, Edinburgh

Figure 18: 1943 London postcard depicting the ruins caused by the Blitz

Figure 19: 1943 reverse of London postcard, message from the Prime Minister

Pino’s real love however, was not the big cities, rather the local town centres of Chatham and Gillingham. This feeling resurfaced in 1985 when he visited the area including the naval dockyards and of course the many pubs and taverns he frequented during those hours on leave.

Diary entry 20 September 1985 – ‘I was determined to find that little tavern I drank in many years ago, the Prince of Orange and find it I did, but it was finished as a tavern as it had a For Sale sign on it. Inside was the carpenter busy at work but the signage and the building were how I remembered it, still the same, a little older, but still there. It certainly brought back memories and a little tear to my eye.18As I researched this story and immersed myself into my father’s experiences it is about this period of time, maybe late May 1943 that I could sense things were taking a different course for Pino (and possibly other crew members) as the protracted refit just kept on going. Was he homesick? Was the lack of action making him restless? Was he not satisfied or at the very best relieved, to face tedium in his daily routine rather than face the unknown in crossing the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans? Did he expect a repeat of his experiences traversing America? By now Pino’s diary entries were brief and irregular, even his memoirs in later life went no further than returning home with HMAS Shropshire, yet he spent well over two more years in active service.

Figure 20: 1985 Chatham, Pino returned to his old stomping ground, including The Prince of Orange Tavern

Was the surreal nature of war one that he now expected?

Short and sharp experiences, taking the good with the bad? Could it have been that Pino’s previous highs could not get any higher and his previous lows not get any lower?

But little did Pino realise that he had one more high awaiting him, one of a very different kind and one that would be associated with the game of cricket!

By late May 1943 it appeared that the Shropshire’s refit was never-ending. It was progressing as best it could but there were continual delays due to problems with the supply of equipment. With no deadline in sight, around early June 1943, an Australian Rules football match was organized between the RAN and RAAF. The result is unknown but it proved a tonic for a lot of lonely Australians in the United Kingdom.19 It was possibly with this backdrop that Chief Petty Officer (Telegraphist) Eric Moran thought of Pino after the idea was raised about the Shropshire forming a cricket team to play against the English.

Eric Moran was one of the more senior members of the small HMS Wolfe draft. Maybe it was during those days as they travelled across America or maybe, as they crossed the Atlantic in order to distract their fear that Eric, Pino and another HMS Wolfe draftee Ron Liddicut shared their mutual passion and recounted their skill and exploits in cricket. Pino was a very talented cricketer, short in stature but fearless and fast with the ball. According to his post-war cricket captain Jack Kios, ‘Pino was a very fast and angry bowler who opened our attack, a better bowler than batsman but still mean and handy with the bat.20

Maybe it was all of those years in Ingham, with his three brothers and their mates, living opposite the railway station with its tracks, yards, platforms and carriages the perfect venue for a game of cricket? This array of improvised pitches and arenas, (along with a tin as a wicket and any piece of wood they could find as a bat) ensured that ‘game was on’ as soon as they got home from school.

…. Our home was situated in Lynch Street right opposite the railway station so most of our free time was spent hanging out on the tracks and carriages. Our cricket pitch was often on the platform or inside the carriages, hiding under the tarpaulins when the station hands came along. Broken windows and being warned off countless times by the police did not deter us. We still returned. As competitive as hell, you could always be assured that each game ended up in arguments and fights but still the next day we would meet our mates for a re-match, mainly because we gave as much back as we received.21

The Livery brothers also played cricket in the local competitions during the early war years before they signed up, although at times it was difficult to put a side together. In those days anyone who could hold a bat managed to make it onto the team. Prior to this the boys played for their school, Ingham State Primary, their arch rival being the local convent school. Their coach, Ivor Middleton, the Grade VI and Scholarship teacher was paradoxically good at using the cane but also clever at challenging the boys, well aware of their competitive nature. Pino recalled how one day at practice he put a two-shilling piece on top of the wicket and dared anyone to knock it off by bowling him. Mickey Pugh’s first ball sent the stumps flying!

On 23 June 1943 Eric Moran accepted an offer and scrambled together a cricket team to play the Harrods team at Lord’s Cricket Ground. The HMAS Shropshire team included both officers and ratings. Captained by Eric and supported by Stoker G Faulkner as Vice-Captain, the side included Lieutenant LS Austin, Sub-Lieutenant JD Irvine, Petty Officers G Aungle, EJ Harkness, and R McLean, Able Seamen PG Livery and AG Mountford and Writer RH Liddicut. Harrods provided the 11th man.

It was only because of Eric’s position and standing (later to be Mentioned in Dispatches) that they were allowed to participate and take leave to go to St John’s Wood. Time was extremely limited. It was the last few days before HMAS Shropshire was officially handed over to the RAN. They were about to sail home via trials at Scapa Flow. Many jobs still had to be urgently done to complete the refit and all hands were on deck in the heavy rain, doing a complete repaint, taking on final supplies and conducting final training exercises to check equipment. 22

Both umpires were provided by Harrods as HMAS Shropshire would not release another crew member.

It was meant to be a fun game and fun it was, particularly for the Shropshire lads. Eric was later told that Harrods had ‘rung in a couple of ex-internationals,23 each playing under an alias. A Mr White was later identified as champion Middlesex and English bowler JM Sims.24 The other ‘ring in’ has yet to be identified. Did they play under an alias so as to disguise their unfair advantage or was it because that even elite cricket players could not be seen to be enjoying themselves during war time? The morale of the country was a high priority and even though cricket was seen as a great morale booster it was a fine balance between sport and war. The match between England and the Dominions played at Lord’s a few weeks later on 2-3 August 1943 was evidence of how important the game of cricket was to England’s soul. 38,000 people viewed this exciting spectacle where 950 runs were scored and 35 wickets fell.25

After the game the Shropshire boys enjoyed a quick meal with their opponents and railed back to Chatham that evening. Poor Ron Liddicut could enjoy no such luxury as he was immediately ordered back to the ship and missed the post-match photo shoot. As for the result, needless to say that the Harrods team easily won. Eric recalled that ‘our chaps knocked up more than 100 runs between them.26 He alone made 29.27

Occasional Paper 59: Francis James Ranken

July 6, 2019

July 2019

Early Career

Francis James Ranken was born in 1864 at ‘Saltram’, Eglinton, near Bathurst. He was the eldest son of James Australian Ranken and was educated at All Saints’ College, Bathurst. His grandfather, George Ranken, was one of Bathurst’s earliest settlers, and was granted 2,000 acres at Eglinton in 1822. Francis went to sea at the young age of 14 in a clipper ship, and eventually became an officer in the Orient Line. He joined the Royal Navy Reserve (RNR) as a Sub-Lieutenant in August 1891 and after training resumed service with the Orient Line. He married Menina Blanche Paige (who was born in Maryborough, Queensland in 1863) in London in 1893.

He was serving as Chief Officer in RMS Orient when she sailed from Melbourne for Sydney on 9 January 1897, encountering very rough weather after passing Wilson’s Promontory. On the next afternoon the brig Phyllis was sighted flying distress signals and Orient learnt that the crew were starving. Although a huge sea was running, a boat with Ranken and a crew of six managed to row to the brig and transfer food. The return journey was even more perilous as the wind and sea heightened and the men were finally pulled from the boat onboard the Orient. The boat could not be recovered as the sea was too rough. Whilst in Sydney, Orient’s Captain and boats crew’s efforts were recognised by the National Shipwreck Society and Ranken received a gold medal and a pair of binoculars.

He was promoted to Lieutenant RNR in September 1897 and by 1899 had completed one year’s full-time service in the RN and also completed one of the short courses in Gunnery and Torpedoes available to reserve officers. In November 1899 he was appointed to the first-class cruiser HMS Galatea for his second period of 12 months training, completing this full-time service in the first-class cruiser HMS Royal Arthur, which he joined in February 1900. Royal Arthur was the flagship for the Imperial Squadron in Australia. In April 1900 Royal Arthur escorted the Royal Yacht Ophir carrying the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York (the future King George V) to Australia to open the new Federal Parliament in 1901.

In July 1905 he was appointed to the third class protected cruiser HMS Mildura in the Australian Auxiliary Squadron, for a third period of FTS. In May 1906 he was appointed to HMS Torch, an Alert class sloop and tender to the cruiser HMS Pyramus to complete his 12 months training.

At his own request he was placed on the retired list in December 1907 and returned to Australia to undertake poultry farming at Castle Hill, NSW. He had completed three years full-time service in the RN and had completed both short courses available for Reserve officers in Gunnery and Torpedoes.

Ranken’s Contribution to the Introduction of a Minesweeping Capability

The Admiralty wrote to the Naval Board in late 1914 outlining the impact of mining in home waters and suggesting appropriate measures should be taken as it was likely the Germans could mine in bases abroad used by British and allied navies. Despite broad policy directives from Navy Office on establishing a minesweeping capability, little action resulted and discussions dragged on. What was needed was a champion to understand the issues and break the seemingly continuous dialogue between Navy Office and the local naval authorities. That was to come with the recruitment of a 52 year old Master Mariner, Francis Ranken. On 8 February 1916 Ranken joined the RANR (Seagoing) as a Lieutenant Commander (Temporary Service) and was posted to HMAS Penguin before assuming command of HMAS Gayundah in May. Given that he joined for temporary service around the time the Board decided they wanted a reserve minesweeping service, it is suggested he was recruited to oversee and manage the introduction of a minesweeping capability.

Ranken produced a report on minesweeping arrangements for Sydney and the report formed the basis for establishing a minesweeping service in the RAN. By early 1917, matters started to speed up as on 16 February advice had been received that a vessel had sunk off Colombo, believed to be due to mining. It was decided that because of the potential threat to Australian ports, a minesweeping organisation was to be introduced as soon as possible at Sydney, Melbourne and Fremantle. Whilst the Director of Naval Auxiliary Services (DNAS) in Navy Office began staffing the administrative details for the minesweeping organisation, the RN advised the Naval Board by telegram a week later, on 27 February, that a mine had been found and exploded in a sweep off Colombo. At a Board meeting on 28 February 1917, it was formally agreed that minesweeping sections would be set up at Sydney, Melbourne and Fremantle. Suitable vessels would be leased and converted for minesweeping.

On 1 March 1917, Navy Office advised the Prime Minister, Billy Hughes, that a Minesweeping Service was to be established immediately. That day, Ranken was posted to the staff of DNAS to manage the introduction of a minesweeping capability into the RAN. The next day, Cabinet approved the measures proposed. The Section would be a component of the Royal Australian Naval Brigade (RANB), which was administered by DNAS. The RANB was the RAN’s primarily non-seagoing reserve organisation during the First World War. The Brigade provided men for overseas service including the naval component of the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force that occupied Germany’s Pacific territories, and the Naval Bridging Train that operated at Gallipoli and Egypt. The Brigade was also heavily employed at home guarding naval installations, operating harbour patrols, inspection services and boarding parties, and manning lookout and wireless stations.

The organisation for the RANB (Minesweeping Section) would enlist personnel from the trawler industry and other seagoing vessels into the Brigade for temporary service for training and then returned to their normal employment. Whilst DNAS remained responsible for personnel matters, the implementation of the organisation to undertake minesweeping activities in each State was under the supervision of the local Naval Commanders. However, the overall co-ordination of the introduction of this new capability across all States was managed by Ranken working from DNAS. He wasted no time and the recruiting of suitable personnel for the recently announced Minesweeping Section of the RANB commenced in late March 1917.

Minelaying by the German Raider Wolf

The German raider Wolf (formerlly the Hansa freighter Wachtfels) was 5,809 GRT, 135m long, had a speed of some 11kts and a range of over 32,000 nm. She carried seven 150 mm guns, many smaller weapons, four torpedo tubes and at least 497 mines, together with a two seater seaplane. Under the command of Korvettenkapitän (Lieutenant Commander) Karl August Nerger she sailed from Kiel on 30 November 1916, finally returning home on 24 February 1918 with 467 prisoners and substantial valuable seized cargo. She ‘lived off the land’ for a cruise of 64,000 miles, surviving on supplies and coal plundered from captured vessels. In 15 months at sea, Wolf captured 14 ships (sinking twelve) and also laid minefields that sank another 13 ships. Minefields were laid at Cape Town, Cape Agulahas (South Africa), Bombay, Colombo, Australia, New Zealand and the Anambas Islands (near Singapore).

Wolf’s voyage was the most successful undertaken by any German raider and no doubt reinforced the value of the merchant raider concept of operations, particularly the use of an embarked aircraft (this concept was again used by the Germans to great effect in World War II). The Wolf, without support of any kind, had made the longest voyage of a warship during World War I and had steamed almost 2.5 times around the globe. Her actions over a wide area between Cape Town and New Zealand caused confusion and the allocation of a large number of forces to try and locate her.

Wolf crossed the Tasman after mining off New Zealand to mine near Gabo Island (off Cape Howe) on the night of 3-4 July 1917. She laid 30 mines, and would have lain more but for the appearance of a vessel that she took to be an Australian cruiser.

Sinking of SS Cumberland

On 6 July 1917, just two days after Wolf had laid her minefields, the SS Cumberland was heading down the east coast for a voyage to the United Kingdom after picking up cargo in Townsville, Bowen and Sydney. The 9,660-ton steam ship reported at 0835 that she had struck a mine ten miles south of Gabo Island. The Department of Navy had given written route directions that would keep Cumberland outside mineable water (outside the 100 fathom line). The Master, Captain McGibbon, later admitted that he disobeyed these instructions, and the ship was several miles inside his prescribed course.

Cumberland reported that she was sinking and required assistance. The ship had a hole some 21 by 14 feet in No. 1 hold and was taking water but struggled towards Gabo Island and grounded for urgent repairs around1400. By evening the ship had about 38 feet of water in No. 1 hold and 17 feet in No. 2 hold. The crew decided to temporarily abandon Cumberland and landed on Gabo.

Vessels were dispatched from Sydney and Melbourne with dedicated salvage equipment, including pumps and mooring gear. By the time they arrived, Cumberland’s holds, boiler room and engine room were flooded. Salvage operations commenced under the supervision of Captain Christopher Spinks of Vine Hall and Spinks Marine Salvage Agents, from Sydney The ship’s agent, acting on behalf of the owners the Federal Steam Navigation Company, was responsible for implementing the salvage arrangements.

Naval and Harbour Trust divers were deployed patching the hole by removing jagged plating and attaching sturdy timber bracing and patches made from layers of canvas. In addition, the bulkhead was repaired and the ship pumped out. However the cargo of some 2,000 tons of metal ingots was not removed. Several vessels were involved in the salvage including the Illawarra & South Coast Steam Navigation Company’s steamers Merimbula and Bermagui, and the tugs Champion and James Paterson from Melbourne.

After five weeks of strenuous repair work by divers and a dedicated salvage team, on the morning of 11 August the ship was refloated and the tugs James Patterson and Champion commenced a tow to Twofold Bay for further repairs. A salvage crew under Captain Spinks was onboard and the boilers were lit to maintain pumping of the holds. However, by evening, the weather had worsened and as the swell developed it became impossible for the tugs to make headway and Cumberland started to take on water faster than the pumps could manage. By 2200 the stricken ship had settled down by the bow and waves were now crashing over the deck hatches. By now it was clear the vessel’s situation was hopeless and Spinks ordered the ship abandoned. The tugs slipped the tow and Merimbula and Bermagui stood by to offer help, the former rescuing Cumberland’s crew. Shortly after the last of the crew reached Merimbula, the Cumberland sank bow first. She had been towed twenty-three miles before being lost and sank 18 miles from Eden in an estimated depth of 50-60 fathoms.

Sweeping the Gabo Island Minefield

At this stage there was no intelligence on Wolf’s activities, or the movement of any other suspicious ship off the Australian coast, however, given the depth of water where Cumberland was hit, it was agreed that mining was feasible. On learning Cumberland had suffered damage an inquiry was immediately ordered under Major George Steward CMG, Official Secretary to the Governor General (Sir Ronald Munro Ferguson). His report to the Prime Minister, completed 18 September, found convincing proof that Cumberland had struck a mine. Whilst the Naval Board suspected an internal explosion, it recommended minesweeping to the Minister of Navy in order to resolve the question of the cause of the explosion. The area to be swept was based on the datum provided by Cumberland hitting a mine in the Gabo Island minefield.

On 26 September 1917, two trawlers (Gunundaal and Koraaga) were leased to undertake minesweeping off Gabo Island. (The third trawler, Brolga, was leased on 8 November). The crews for the trawlers were engaged for temporary service in the RAN Brigade. Lieutenant Commander Ranken was posted from DNAS to Penguin on 19 September to command Gunundaal and as Senior Officer Mine Sweeping Unit. He reported to the Captain in Charge HMA Naval Establishments, Sydney, Captain John Glossop CB, RN (of Emden fame), who was in overall command of their subsequent operations. The minesweeping unit sailed from Garden Island, Sydney eight days later on 3 October 1917.

It was intended that sweeping near the Cumberland datum commence on 5 October, however a gale delayed danlaying and sweeping was delayed by three days. The first mine ever swept by the RAN was swept on 9 October 1917. At 1325 Gunundaal and Koraaga were sweeping in 100 m depth of water near the location reported by Cumberland, when the sweep wire veered off Gunundaal’s winch. At 1405 Ranken asked the Mate to feel the sweep wire, and it was decided that there was nothing hung up on the sweep wire. At 1415 an explosion occurred shaking both ships fore and aft, and the location of the detonation of the mine was buoyed. Fortunately the mine was deep when it detonated. After engaging the mine mooring the sweep wire probably dragged the mine down as it ran up the mooring, and then rode up the mine and bent a horn which exploded the mine. The mine detonation was 4.8 miles from Gabo Island Lighthouse, and Ranken reported that the stone buildings were shaken. There was no plume; however the water boiled up over an area of about 80 square metres.

The sweeping of this first mine was reported the same day by telegram (via the Gabo Island Lighthouse) to the Captain-in-Charge, Sydney. At 0930 on 10 October Ranken received orders from the Captain Glossop (presumably from a telegram collected that morning at the lighthouse) to provide a full written report of the discovery of this mine. At 1100 Gunundaal and Koraaga weighed anchor and proceeded to Eden to post the report. The letter on 10 October appears to have been written in haste by Ranken, keen to resume actual sweeping. Ranken’s writing was normally copperplate. The Minister for the Navy, Sir Joseph Cook, promptly released statements on this initial sweeping operation, and these were reported by the newspapers. The psychological warhead of mining would have generated public shock and concern commensurate with a weapon that was new to Australian waters.

There were five more sweeping deployments in October, November, December and January 1918. A further eight mines swept making a total of eleven mines were swept under Ranken (until 21 December) and one in January 1918. His final Report of Proceedings indicates the adverse weather conditions the minesweepers encountered on these deployments.

Ranken gave an interview which was published in the Sydney Morning Herald on 3 November on the minesweeping operations and the minefield. The article gave more detail on the mines than the earlier press release made by the Minister the Navy. The fact that Ranken had spoken to the press incurred the wrath of the Naval Board with the Second Naval Member (Captain Henry Cochrane RN) finding Ranken’s reasons, which indicated the information was cleared by the Censor, unsatisfactory, particularly as the Board has issued explicit instructions forbidding giving statements to the press.

The Naval Board proposed not to re-employ Ranken in the minesweeping service. Ranken requested on 1 December 1917 that the Naval Board reconsider this decision, but the decision to not re-employ him in minesweeping was confirmed on 15 December. Given Ranken’s extensive background in setting up and managing the minesweeping capability, the general paucity of RAN minesweeping expertise and the ‘good news’ style of article, it is surprising that the Naval Board acted so quickly and took such a hard line on what must be considered a minor indiscretion.

Ranken returned to Sydney on 22 December and did not participate in further minesweeping operations. However, he remained posted to Penguin and his minesweeping expertise continued to be used for minesweeping analysis in Brisbane and Townsville. He resigned in September 1918 and the Navy lost one of its most experienced minesweeping experts. He returned to poultry farming at Castle Hill.

In March 1919, the Admiralty wrote to the RAN calling for recommendations for awards in respect of minesweeping service. This was an unusual request as it was the only time the Admiralty had communicated with the RAN on the subject of honours and awards. Rankin’s old boss, Captain Tickell, the Director of Naval Auxiliary Services, drafted the response to the Admiralty, recommending four personnel, including Ranken. Captain Glossop had also recommended Ranken’s name be included. The wording was precise, stating Ranken: ‘Was Officer Commanding Minesweeping operations and successfully swept the enemy mine-field off Gabo Island, SE Australia when 10 enemy mines were destroyed. This Officer showed marked ability and devotion to duty during the minesweeping operations off this coast.’

In October 1919, Ranken received an OBE in recognition ‘for valuable services in minesweeping operations’ during the War. In July that year the RN had promoted him to Commander RNR (retd) ‘in recognition of services rendered during the War’ and in September 1920 he was awarded the Royal Navy Reserve Officers’ Decoration.

Conclusion

Frances Ranken died at Parramatta on 1 September 1929 and was cremated the next day at Rookwood Crematorium. They had no children and his wife, Menina Blanche Paige-Ranken, who was an accomplished pianist and well known in Sydney music circles, died in 1947.

Ranken had a remarkable life and made a significant contribution to the RAN’s minesweeping capability in World War I. His actions when as Chief Officer of RMS Orient taking charge of the boat delivering supplies to the brig Phyllis in ferocious sea conditions, indicates his courage and ability to succeed in arduous conditions. The rapid and successful implementation of the Minesweeping Service from a virtual vacuum no doubt reflected his considerable organising abilities and management skill. His command of the successful minesweeping campaign in adverse conditions was an impressive record. It is fitting that he was recognised for his service and achievements. It is interesting that the RN conferred a promotion to Commander RNR and a Reserve decoration on him which suggests that he had left a positive impression from his time in the RN and that his old service recognised what he had accomplished in sweeping the Gabo Island minefield.

Occasional Paper 54: The Church Pennant

May 17, 2019

May 2019

The Church Pennant: A Naval Furphy

While researching naval history Society’s Senior Researcher, John Smith regularly encounters mythology which is perpetuated over time unless cation is taken to correct them. This paper is intended to correct misunderstanding about the origin of the Church Pennant flown in many navies.

John Smith is a long-term member of the Society and former Committee member. As a researcher he regularly responds to a broad spectrum of requests from around the World.

The Church Pennant is hoisted as a signal indicating that the ship’s company is engaged in divine service. It may also be flown by a vessel or craft when carrying a body or ashes from shore to a ship for committal at sea or by a vessel or craft carrying out a funeral. It is also flown by Shore Establishments when church services are being conducted.

It is accepted routine that when the Church Pennant is flown that;

other vessels should reduce speed and pass with caution.
other warships do not send signals except in an emergency. This applies to marks of respect and saluting other warships.

So, what is the origin of the Church Pennant?

There is an oft-repeated version that attributes it to the Dutch Wars of 1652 to 1674. Both opposing Admirals, Tromp and Blake, were devoutly religious and agreed that, when it became necessary to carry out the burial of the dead or to conduct divine service, the ship concerned would hoist the national flags of both countries during which operation no action would take place. This combined hoist was reputedly the red cross of St. George to which was attached the red, white and blue horizontal tricolour bands of the Netherlands flag.

Incidentally the earliest recorded use of the Church Pennant is to be found in article 10 of the RN Additional Instructions of 1778.

This is a naval furphy !!!

Well before the Dutch Wars there was a similar pennant in naval use called the Common or Union Pennant which had no meaning as a signal flag when flown by itself. However, when flown in conjunction with other flags, it could be used to indicate;

working the cable.
man overboard.
Recall for ship’s boats.

The Common Pennant was also the masthead pennant worn by all British private war vessels until the middle 1800s, the three red, white and blue stripes representing the red, white and blue squadrons.

When these squadrons were abolished in 1864, the horizontal stripes were removed and the Common Pennant became what we now know as the Commissioning Pennant.

As it had no individual meaning during the Dutch Wars which it’s use definitely preceded, it was used as the Church Pennant.

In an unrelated epilogue, the Dutch Wars have a connection with the Royal Australian Navy. In 1667, a Dutch force of marines sailed up the Medway, attacked the fort and occupied the small town of Queenborough after which HMS/HMAS Queenborough was named. This was the first invasion and occupation of part of Britain since William the Conqueror in 1066.

Further Reading:

Encyclopedia Britannica, Anglo-Dutch Wars

Encyclopedia Britannica, Raid on the Medway

A.N. Other

September 2019

September 2019

August 2019

July 2019

May 2019

The Church Pennant: A Naval Furphy

So, what is the origin of the Church Pennant?

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