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Battles and operations

Big wave of destruction

A voyage from Fremantle to Cocos Islands to farewell the Royal Yacht SS Gothic at the successful end of Queen Elizabeth II’s first visit to Australia ended badly when two of the escort ships collided during a RAS. On 5 April 1954 after HMA Ships Vengeance, Anzac I and Bataan, an Australian-built Tribal-class destroyer, handed over the escort duties to the cruisers HM Ships Colombo and Newfoundland, Bataan was low on fuel and needed to refuel. Consequently orders were received to take on fuel from Vengeance.

Former Chief Radio Electrician Bill Robertson, who was on board Bataan at the time, believes the collision was caused by a rogue wave which lifted Bataan’s bow and turned the ship towards Vengeance, when there was less than 10 tonnes of fuel left to transfer. “The change in heading couldn’t be controlled by the quartermaster in time to avoid a collision,” he said. “The Venturi effect, so dreaded when two moving vessels are so close together, held Bataan’s port side in contact with Vengeance’s starboard side. “There was an imminent danger Bataan would roll over and be sucked under Vengeance.” Mr Robertson said, as Bataan slowly slid aft, each time Vengeance rolled to starboard, her AA platforms came down on Bataan’s port superstructure. “Then the port side of the PO’s Mess, the ‘B’ gun deck and the Bofors platform on the port side of the bridge were all crushed,” he said. “I remember thinking the noise sounded like the damage was going to be expensive.” According to Mr Robertson, only the quick thinking of CO Bataan CMDR Glenn Fowle saved the ship. “He ordered, ‘hard a’ port, full ahead together’,” he said. “This forced our bow into Vengeance while kicking the stern out. “When Bataan had pushed itself out to about 45 degrees, the CO ordered full astern together, which separated the ships but didn’t do the bow
any favours. “At the time of the action I was on the starboard side of the bridge with a lifejacket in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other, somewhat unsure which had priority.”

There were no casualties during the collision, which left Bataan’s keel twisted. Bataan paid off at Sydney in October 1954, having steamed 279,395nm after commissioning in May 1945, and was sold for scrap in May 1958, to Mitsubishi Shoji Kaisha Ltd of Tokyo, Japan

 

Originally published in the Australian Navy News on 14 July 2016

Occasional Paper 41: SS William Dawes – A Ship is Burning (1942)

This account records an incident in the Japanese submarine campaign off Australia and the efforts of the RAAF and VAOC to protect coastal shipping.

As the attractive blonde 17 year old rode her push bike to work on the cold morning of 22 July, 1942, the Japanese submarine I-11 had already torpedoed the American Liberty Ship, SS William Dawes approximately 15 miles off the Australian east coast township of Merimbula. Lorna Stafford was a member of the little-known Volunteer Air Observers Corps, which was established by the Royal Australian Air ForceDirectorate of Intelligence in the last few months of 1941.

The VAOC’s work was the sighting and reporting of enemy aircraft over Australian territory as well as coastal surveillance. Observation posts were established and manned by volunteer observers under the control of a Chief observer and linked to control posts under a civilian Commandant. The control posts such as where Lorna reported to begin her daytime shift used existing Civil Defence and Volunteer Defence Force facilities wherever possible. Any relevant information was reported directly to the main control posts in each state capital city. Communications were carried by an `Airflash’ priority system through the normal telephone system backed up by B3 radios between control and main centres. Using this method which overrode the normal telephone lines, it allowed information to be transmitted to a main control post in one or two minutes. All volunteers were to be of Australian/British nationality, of good character and have passed the basic hearing and eyesight test. All went through a stringent aircraft recognition training course and where possible, members were recruited locally. Lorna Stafford lived close to the small fishing town of Tathra where the observation post in a small wooden hut had been established because of its commanding view up and down the coast. It was freezing in the winter and hot in the summer and was only equipped with the mandatory log and code books, telephone, clock and binoculars.

Lorna normally began her official day timeshift at 9 am (9 am-1 pm) but had arrived early this particular morning and was shown a report from the night shift observer that at approximately 5.30 am that morning, a loud explosion was heard out to sea down towards Merimbula. Little did the teenager realise she was about to become a part of military history generally unknown today outside the local area.

In mid July, three type A1 Japanese long-range fleet submarines arrived off the east coast of Australia from the shipyards in Kure, with orders to attack all merchant shipping. The largest boat was the 2900 ton I-11 commanded by Commander Tsuneo Shichiji. The I-11 was also the flagship of Rear Admiral Kono Chimaki’s 3rd Submarine Squadron. The Type A1 was developed from the Type J3 design with a hangar opening forward from the conning tower. This was for access to a forward mounted catapult, which allowed advantage to be taken of the forward movement of the boat to launch the `Glen’seaplane. The I-11 and the two other boats, I-9 and I-10 were all equipped with communications equipment that enabled them to operate as command ships for groups of submarines. For the time, they were massive boats with a crew of 114 officers and men. All three submarines operated along the east coast of Australia from July to the beginning of August and official Japanese records credited the three submarines with sinking ten Allied merchant ships. In fact, only three were sunk, all by the I-11.

A1 class submarine

Commander Tsuneo Shichiji began his war in the I-11 with the night sinking of the Greek ship, SS George S Livanos (4835 tons)approximately 15 miles off Jervis Bay on 20 July. Fortunately, there were no casualties. Three hours later in almost the same area, the I-11 torpedoed and sank the American vessel, SS Coast Farmer (3290 tons). After the attack; the I-11 surfaced to examine the sinking ship by searchlight and submerged a short time later. The crew were not harmed in any way but one crew member had been killed in the attack. Twenty seven hours later, in the early morning darkness of 22 July 1942, the I-11 attacked the 5576 ton American Liberty Ship, SS William Dawes ((SS William Dawes was named after the revolutionary patriot minuteman who rode with Paul Revere and Samuel Prescott during the American War of Independence. She was launched from the Oregon Shipbuilding Corporation, Portland on 7 February, 1942 as a United States Army Transport.)). The Japanese Commander’stactics were to attack ships at night, preferring surface attacks using a combination of torpedoes and the 155mm deck gun.

The William Dawes had left the South Australian city of Adelaide on 19 July bound for Brisbane, Queensland’s capital city, with a complement of 39 Merchant crew, 15 Naval Armed Guard and a cargo according to the Australian War Memorial records of 82 x quarter-ton jeeps, 33 x half-ton CPRs, 72 half-ton pickups, 2 x one and a half ton cargo trucks, 12 x two and a half ton cargo trucks, 12ambulances, 12 half track vehicles and with explosives and other sundry Army stores, the total service cargo was approximately 7,177 tons. Three soldiers, a Lieutenant and two enlisted men, were also on board as the cargo was the equipment and stores of the United States Army 32nd Infantry Division (Michigan and Wisconsin National Guard) that had arrived in Adelaide from San Francisco on 14 May. They had been training at a military camp outside the city but early in July 1942 were ordered to transfer all personnel and equipment to CampTamborine near Brisbane. Most of the personnel were sent to their new camp by train but some were dispatched on five ships. The William Dawes was not part of this convoy of ships but steaming alone, unescorted, and was approximately midway between Merimbula and Tathra when the torpedo struck.

SS William Dawes

The first torpedo the Japanese fired at the Liberty ship that fateful July morning struck the stern section, causing massive damage from the entire after end of the ship to the centre of No. 5hatch. This section separated and sank a short time later, taking with it the steering gear, the propeller, stern deck gun and the two anti-aircraft guns. The engine room flooded through the shaft alley. There were nine people in oron the after deckhouse. Two were on watch at the four inch gun that was atopthe deckhouse and seven were asleep in their compartments. The two on watch were presumably killed instantly and of the seven below, four, including Signalman Minton, escaped. The others were trapped and perished.

The Captain had ordered the lifeboats lowered and the ship abandoned but instructed the boats to pull away from the ship and standby until daybreak to see if the ship could be saved. Sometime later, a second torpedo struck the ship amidships, setting the ship on fire, which started a series of explosions. Just after the fires had started, the crew were horrified to see the giant I-11surface about 1500 yards from the burning ship and lifeboats just before sunrise, presumably to observe or record their handiwork, and had submerged without interfering with the crew in the lifeboats a short time later. William Minton saw the submarine surface and remembers being extremely worried as he had heard of submarines ramming or machine gunning lifeboats. Realising the ship was unsalvageable, the Captain ordered the four lifeboats (one motorised)to head towards the nearest land, about 12 miles away. They had gone some distance when the rescue trawler from Merimbula arrived. The survivors were collected together and the four lifeboats were towed back to Merimbula. The local police constable on board the trawler compiled a list of the dead and wounded.One Army servicemen plus four Naval Armed Guard had been killed and four wounded, one badly. The dead soldier, twenty five year old Corporal Gerald O.Cable, Service Company, 126 Infantry had the dubious distinction of being the first 32nd Infantry Division serviceman to be killed in action while serving with William Dawes gun crew. Shortly afterwards, Camp Tamborine outside Brisbane, was renamed Camp Cable in his honour by his fellow soldiers. The 32nd were the first Americans to meet the Japanese in New Guinea.

Lorna was unaware a submarine attack had taken place but from her vantage point in the Tathra observation post, and with the aid of her binoculars, she could see the ship constantly changing course. With the steering gone, the ship was at the mercy of the ocean currents. As the drama at sea was unfolding, Lorna was reporting her observations to the majorVAOC HQ at Moruya and making rough timeframe sketches of each event as it unfolded. Lorna’s efficient and speedy reports to her control station in Moruya had enabled the fishing trawler to be quickly dispatched to the scene to rescue any possible survivors. Another trawler was sent from the nearby fishing town of Eden as a stand by. A fishing boat was also sent out from Tathra and the local people, now aware of the tragedy that had taken place out at sea, gathered together to get food ready for the expected arrival of any survivors. They were bitterly disappointed when they heard the rescued crew had gone to Merimbula instead.

The Japanese submarine had long since gone when a Royal Australian Air Force aircraft arrived on the scene just after sunrise.

The RAAF Operations log book records the flight crew reported seeing 12-15 persons in each of the four lifeboats and that the vessel was on fire and a number of service trucks and jeeps on deck were also burning. The crew investigating the devastated ship also reported sighting a submarine at 10.15 am, three miles south of the stricken vessel moving southeast. The aircraft attacked the submarine with bombs. The aircraft’s target could have been Shichiji’s submarine, as his course did take him south, or a whale mistaken for a submarine, but official Japanese record sindicate no attack on the I-11 taking place. The burning wreck of the William Dawes finally sank stern first around about 4.30 pm the same day.

Most of the remaining crew were gladly accommodated in the homes of the local townspeople until the military authorities could make further arrangements as to their future.

Commander Shichiji continued his patrol further down the Australian coast where he again used his night surface attack tactics and fired one torpedo at an Australian vessel, SS Coolana (2,197 tons). The Japanese thought they had hit the ship but as the vessel showed no sign of sinking, Shichiji ordered the use of the deck gun. In the rough seas, it was difficult to aim and when the Australian vessel began to send a SOS signal, it was time to leave the scene. Fortunately, there was no damage to crew or ship.

Two days later on 29 July, the giant I-11 almost became a victim herself. One of three RAAF Beaufort aircraft patrolling off Cape Howe sighted an object 22 miles NE of Gabo island, identifying the submarine on the surface. After several attacks a large patch of oil convinced the crew that they had accounted for the submarine. It was a very close call and it was the first time the I-11‘s crew had been in a bombing attack and it shook them up rather badly. The only damage to the submarine was some cracking to the wooden decking and a few embedded bomb fragments in the deck.

The I-11began her next war patrol during the first week of August in a new theatre of operations, this time in the Pacific. Over the next 2 months, there were only two events worthy of note during this phase of her operations. On 6 September1942, the submarine managed to slip past a screen of escort ships off Espiritu Santo and fired a spread of torpedoes at the aircraft carrier, USS Hornet (CV8) but a circling aircraft spotted the torpedoes and dropped its bombs disrupting the torpedo’s direction. All missed the carrier ((The USS Hornet had, back in April, launched the famous ‘Doolittle Raid’ where l6 B25s attacked Tokyo, Nagoya and Kobe in one of the most daring raids of modern warfare. Although the I-11 failed to sink her, the carrier would fall victim to the Japanese the following month in the battle of Santa Cruz Islands, one year and six days after she was commissioned.)).

The next day, the I-11 was attacked by a PBY Catalina from the “Black Cats” squadron (VP-11) and may have suffered some damage as she returned to Kure for repairs on the 22 September.

Early January 1943, a repaired, provisioned and ready for action I-11 returned to active service in the Pacific. But the earlier successes of 1942 eluded the I-11. On 20 July 1943 off San Cristobal, New Hebrides in the Solomons, the I-11 fired two torpedoes at the Australian light cruiser, HMAS Hobart. One torpedo hit, killing 15 crewmen and wounding seven others but the Hobart managed to limp into Espiritu Santo and carry out temporary repairs. On 11 August, the I-11torpedoed and damaged the 7,176 ton American Liberty ship, SS Mathew Lyon off Noumea, New Caledonia. With nothing much to show for almost nine months of operations at sea, the I-11 returned again to the Kure shipyards for repairs on 26 September.

Three months later, the giant I-11 and her crew lay on the bottom of the ocean, listed officially as an operational loss off Ellice Island. Some historians suggest she hit a mine but the cause of her demise has yet to be historically proved.

The Japanese were never in a position to seriously disrupt the flow of war material and other essential goods between America and Australia as they lacked the resources, material, skill and proper direction. If the Imperial Japanese Navy High Command had adopted the GermanHigh Command’s priority of sinking merchant ships, the disruption of cargo between America and Australia might have had an effect on the ability of the Allies to conduct the war. Certainly it would have made it much more difficult to keep the supply lines open. Japan sent more than 24 submarines to operate in Australian waters during 1942-44, and of the 49 merchant vessels attacked, only24 were actually sunk (a total of 117,000 tons). The overall Japanese submarine warfare campaign was not all that impressive.

What was impressive was the contribution by the volunteers of the Air Observers Corps who, in the overall picture of Australia’smilitary involvement in WW2, has been all but been forgotten. The VAOC peaked in manpower at 24,000 members in 1944, manning 2,656 observation posts and 39control posts. Between January 1943 and August 1945, the organization had`definitely’ saved 78 aircraft, `substantially’ aided 710 and `assisted’ a further 1,098. Assistance given ranged from supplying tea and biscuits to downed airmen to advising their bases of their whereabouts and guarding aircraft. When one adds up the ship spotting and naval co-operation tasks, the corps has an honourable record. They were officially disbanded on 10 April 1946.

Lorna, now Mrs Waterston, lives in Kalarunear Tathra. To honour her contribution to the war effort and her part in the events of 22 July 1942, a small memorial plaque was placed in Tathra’s memorial park by the local Lions Club. A fitting tribute, not just to one single VAOC volunteer but to them all and to those brave men who lost their lives in SS William Dawes.

The Australian Government also paid a tribute to the men who lost their lives on the William Dawes, but 62 years later. An Australian diving expedition called the Sydney Project Diving Team had been planning for over six months a dive on the William Dawes. The wreck’s location was established 10 miles from where she was torpedoed and 12 miles from the coastal town of Bermagui. On 25 October 2004, two divers not only found the wreck upside down in 135 metres of water but broke the existing New South Wales diving record at the same time.

The wreck has remained untouched since its sinking and is a virtual time capsule. The Australian Government declared the site to be a ‘historical shipwreck’, which will enable divers to visit the ship but not to remove or disturb relics without a permit. An official government communique stated; `The William Dawes deserves our protection as it may be a war grave of the five lost crew.’ May they rest in peace!

Author: Wright, Ken
Publication:  September 2005 edition of the Naval Historical

Further reading:

http://ahoy.tk-jk.net/macslog/LibertyShipWilliamDawes.S.html
http://www.combinedfleet.com/I-11.htm

Occasional Paper 39: The Story Of Commander Paul Hugill Hirst RAN 1899-1963

November 2018

Compelled to Resign: The Story Of Commander Paul Hugill Hirst RAN 1899-1963

by Lieutenant Commander Terry Feltham RAN Ret’d

“Just because something ends doesn’t mean it never should’ve been.  Remember, you lived, you learned, you grew and you moved on”.  Anon.

Why this topic?

The recent discovery within the Society’s archives of an undated letter from Signalman Donald Fraser, commissioning member of HMAS Toowoomba1 led to my researching the reasons for the resignation in March 1942 of her Commanding Officer, LCDR Paul Hirst and the eventual dispersal of her entire crew.

The following are extracts from undated letter by Don Fraser:

After suffering heavy damage on the passage.  Soon thereafter we were ordered back to sea.  Our captain ‘Digger Hirst’ was loath to take Toowoomba to sea until major repairs were affected.  Apparently Senior Naval Officer Western Australia, Commodore Collins, directed the skipper – ‘Take your ship to sea or resign’.  ‘Digger’ advised the ship’s company, “I’ve resigned and I will be happy to get back to the spuds in Tasmania”.  Under a new skipper we sailed to Adelaide for repairs.  There, the entire crew received ‘individual draft notes’ sending them to all corners of the globe!  Toowoomba then decommissioned, affected repairs and recommissioned.  Did ‘Digger’ resign for nothing?  Don Fraser.[i]

My First Impressions

Initially, there seemed little to this research task.  Paul Hirst was a member of the 1913 Pioneer Class[ii] at The Naval College and HMAS Toowoomba 1 was Paul’s third command (following Tasmania and Success). Clearly, Commodore John Collins and The Naval Board held Paul in high regard.  So, in my opinion, all that was required was for me to obtain copies of Toowoomba’s Reports of Proceedings from commissioning date in October 1941 to March 1942, seek out the Naval Board paperwork on the incident, the notes by Commodore Collins immediately before and after his decisions on the incident and access Paul Hirst’s personal reports and then write the story.  ‘Wrong’.  Despite considerable help from many people (most notably Vice Admiral Peter Jones) many cupboards were bare.  However, sufficient veteran’s recollections are recorded to allow us the essentials of the story.

So I chose to go back to the early part of the 20th Century, research the history behind The Royal Australian Naval College and its Pioneer Class and build the story from that point.

The Royal Australian Navy and its Naval College

By the middle of the first decade of the 20th Century Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell, KCMG, KBE (‘The Father Of The Royal Australian Navy) along with Rear Admiral Frederick Tickell MID CMG RN and two very supportive Prime Ministers, Alfred Deakin and Andrew Fisher, had begun a concerted push to have our Navy (more a Colonial Force at the time) breakaway from The Admiralty.  By late 1905 the Australian Commonwealth Naval Board was constituted in Melbourne, and it was clear that ‘The Royal Australian Navy’ (RAN) was close at hand.[iii]

VICE ADMIRAL WILLAM ROOKE CRESWELL, KCMG, KBE, RAN (Chief of Staff, RAN)

REAR ADMIRAL FREDERICK TICKEL CMG RAN (AS A CAPTAIN RAN) Australian War Memorial

Prime Minister of Australia Andrew Fisher, By T. Humphrey & Co, NLA image

Prime Minister of Australia Alfred Deakin, NLA image

By 1911 many of Creswell’s capital initiatives for the RAN had been agreed and the Australian Government had also signed off on a major recruitment scheme for Australian Naval Officers, specifically:

An Australian Naval College (to be named HMAS Creswell on commissioning in January 1958) would be established at Jervis Bay by 1915.  In the interim, young boys from all Australian states, and whose 13th birthday fell in the calendar year 1 January 1913 to 31 December 1913, would be invited to sit an exemplar exam in 1912 for entry to the Temporary Australian Naval College at Geelong in Victoria in 1913.   Twenty eight Officer Cadets would be chosen to undergo a rigorous four year education, leadership, sporting and management program taking them to University entrance equivalent.  On completion the successful graduates would join the Royal Australian Naval Officer Ranks as Midshipmen.[iv]

Creswell also made it clear to the Australian Government that he expected significant numbers of RN officers (including several of Flag Rank) would be required to fill positions in Australia’s naval command structure for the foreseeable future; probably until the early 1930s.  He went further:

‘this fact does not worry me one iota as I am confident the Naval College structure agreed by the Australian Government, with its fine Executive, Educational, Engineering and Electrical training staff, would soon begin commissioning superb Australian Naval Officers’.[v]

Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d) in his book Australia’s Argonauts expresses best the sentiment of the time:

“For the nation, the calling for the first intake of Australia’s naval college was an important step in forging its own Navy.  Yet, for twenty eight 13-year-old boys their decision would forever change their lives.  Their careers would decisively shape the course of the Royal Australian Navy”.[vi]

The 1913 Entry to the Royal Australian Naval College, known as the Pioneer Class. (RAN)
Paul Hirst, Back Row, circled. John Collins, Middle Row.

LCDR Paul Hugill Hirst

Commodore John Collins RAN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Members of the Pioneer Class[vii]

Otto Edmund Albert;

George William Thomas Armitage;

Joseph Burnett (later KIA when Commanding Officer [Captain RAN], HMAS Sydney);

Norman Keith Calder;

John Augustine Collins (later Vice Admiral Sir John, KBE CB, Chief of Naval Staff 1948-1955);

Alfred Denis Conder;

Ernest Semple ‘Dick’ Cunningham (lost in HM K17 in 1917);

James Claude Durie Esdaile (the last surviving member of The Pioneer Class);

Harold Bruce (Fearless Frank) Farncomb (later Rear Admiral – CB, DSO, MVO, MID (3) Navy Cross [US] and Commander of the Legion of Merit [US]);

Eric Augustus Feldt (later OBE and Commander RAN – our greatest Coastwatcher);

Frank Edmond Getting (later Captain RAN – KIA 1942 when in Command HMAS Canberra);

 Lloyd Falconer Gilling;

Paul Hugill Hirst (later Commander – 3 Commands – Tasmania, Success and Toowoomba);

Elmer Benjamin Howells;

Peyton James Kimlin;

Frank Lockwood Larkins;

John Valentine Stuart ‘Jack’ Lecky;

Rupert Basil Michel Long;

Hugh Alexander MacKenzie DSC;

Jack Bolton Newman;

Edwin Scott Nurse;

Win Locker Reilly;

Cyril Arthur Roy Sadlier;

Henry ‘Harry’ Arthur Showers (later Rear Admiral, CBE);

Horace John Harold Thompson;

Harry Bertram Vallentine;

Adrian Joseph Beachleigh Watts;

Llewellyn Leigh Watkins.

 

Captain Bertram Chambers RAN was the initial Master at the College and to anyone interested he would say:

 – ‘these young boys were selected on their perceived ability alone; social standing was paid no mind.  I guarantee that by the passing of six months it will be impossible to tell the difference between the Cadet who knew the meaning of ‘a silver spoon’ and the Cadet who could handle a stump jump plough’.[viii]

Several of the class proved notable talents and will be well known to many of us: Vice Admiral Sir John Collins, Rear Admiral Farncomb, Rear Admiral Showers, Captain Burnett and Commander Feldt. Commander Paul Hirst proved to be a first-class naval officer and commanding officer, however, he will not be as well-known as those named above.

Boys to Men

The selection process sought to ensure that only the fittest and the physically strong formed the 1913 Entry.

Sadly though, several originals lost their life while serving their initial engagement 1913-1930 and three Cadet Midshipmen were discharged before graduation returning to civil life and uncertain futures.  The first to give his life was Otto Albert through meningitis in May 1914. Dick Cunningham, along with 47 other crew members in the RN submarine K17 were KIA following a collision in what was to become known as the Battle of May Island on 31 January 1918; and after the war ended, Frank Larkins accidentally lost his life when swept overboard from the casing of the RAN submarine J2 on the night of 19/20 June 1919 while transiting past Sumatra on his return to Australia.

World War 1 ends

Several of The Pioneer Class saw service during WWI, but by 1920 their lives had returned to a form of normality.  A Return of Service obligation tied them to the RAN until 1930 and by then the seafarers blood flowed in the veins of quite a few, many going on to give absolutely outstanding Naval service until retirement; most notable being Vice Admiral Sir John Collins and Rear Admiral Harold Farncomb.  The honour and legacy of those two men was settled for all time when the Australian Government gave the names Collins and Farncomb to two of our Collins Class Submarines.

Vice Admiral Collins was not only a name to be remembered by the Australian Government and the RAN; the people of Sydney (maybe even wider Australia) silently offered their thanks to him at his funeral.  One woman was heard praising him in this way, ‘You have to understand what John Collins meant to us.  When we were losing everywhere in the war he gave us our finest victory.  He gave us hope’.[ii]

Paul Hirst proved also to be an outstanding naval officer.  During the 1920s he was recognised as such on two occasions by The Naval Board, when given command of HMAS Tasmania and later HMAS Success.  The following was written of Paul Hirst during his period In Command of HMAS Success.

“Paul Hirst is a capable, keen and zealous Commanding Officer of HMAS Success”.  RAN.[iii]

HMAS Tasmania, 1924

HMAS Success 1

During that decade Paul was also appointed as The First Lieutenant at HMAS Cerberus, a tough assignment for any Naval Officer.

In 1931, with the world at peace, Paul decided to resign his commission and return to the family home in Carrick, Tasmania.  When War raised its ugly head again late in the 1930s, he offered to re-join in July 1939 as a member of the Emergency List and was accepted with the rank of Lieutenant Commander.  Following service at Cerberus, then Warrego and Brisbane, Paul was appointed to commission HMAS Toowoomba in October 1941.  This appointment being further recognition of the esteem in which he was held by his superiors.

Toowoomba at War 1941/1942

Soon after her commissioning late 1941, Toowoomba entered operational service.  She was based in Sydney initially, tasked with convoy escort duties along the east coast of Australia until January 1942, when she was ordered to Batavia.  Toowoomba was in constant action over the next two months and on 14 February was one of the last ships to enter Singapore Harbour before the Island was captured by the Japanese.  Toowoomba’s sailing orders for each of her assignments in 1942 were issued under the hand of Commodore Collins RAN.

Following the outbreak of war with Japan, Captain John Collins was appointed Commodore Commanding China Force, based in Batavia, Dutch East Indies.  HMAS Toowoomba under the command of Paul Hirst was stationed in the Dutch East India area early 1942, so throughout that period, Commodore Collins was Paul’s senior officer and as such his reporting officer

During what must have been a quite insane period in the Dutch East Indies early in 1942, Toowoomba was ‘dive bombed’ many times, surviving, it seems, only by the magnificent seamanship of her Captain.  Toowoomba’s crew paid tribute to Paul with Signalman Fraser remembering Paul as a ‘Bonzer bloke and a terrific skipper’.[iv]

Toowoomba’s assignments in the Tanjong Priok and Tjilatjap areas kept her extremely busy and Tjilatjap became a regular stop off for refuelling.  Hirst decided it would be prudent always to track close inshore when escorting convoys and when leading his corvettes.

Early 1942 the RAN decided that as Collins and his staff could not be well protected in Batavia, the office was to be moved to Fremantle,

Early on the morning of 2 March Collins, stationed at the time at Tjilatjap was doing his utmost to find shipboard accommodation for as many as possible in the transfer of his quarters and staff to Fremantle to take up the position as Commodore Commanding Fremantle and Senior Naval Officer, Western Australia

To his delight, over the horizon came Paul Hirst in Toowoomba and the other corvettes he was leading.  Collins would have found them a god-send; as they made possible the evacuation of all personnel.

Soon after that evacuation, Toowoomba was ordered back to Fremantle and then commenced routine patrols off the Western Australian Coast.  During her last patrol, she encountered heavy seas and suffered major damage to her upper deck structures and sonar and was forced to return to Fremantle.  Shortly before arrival, a signal was received in Toowoomba informing Paul that he was to be promoted Commander and that he was to take four corvettes, including Toowoomba to join the British Eastern Fleet.  The whole crew were delighted in the announcement.

Damaged Toowoomba arrived in Fremantle on Saturday 19th July 1942.

The Fremantle Meeting

Paul’s naval career ended effectively one week after Toowoomba’s return to Fremantle on Saturday 19 July 1942.

On arrival in Fremantle, I think it fair to assume that Commodore John Collins inspected the damage to Toowoomba[v] and that Paul paid a visit to Senior Officer Western Australia Commodore Collins to further explain the structural damages to Toowoomba and to seek time to affect the required repairs.  There are no written records extant of either Paul’s visit to John Collins or John Collins’ visit to Toowoomba.  The Naval Board were in Melbourne and would not have visited the ship.

I do not say that Collins suggested to Hirst, ‘resign’, as there is no corroborating evidence such an exchange occurred. What we do know is that Hirst told his ship’s company he had resigned.

What I am suggesting is that there may well be several other parts to this section of the story. In particular I have little doubt that Commodore Collins took in Paul’s explanation of the repairs considered essential before Toowoomba could return to War Time duty anywhere.  I think it is fair to assume, Commodore Collins, at this time, was (nearly) out on his feet following those hectic days in Singapore, Tanjong Priok and Tjilatjap when all that he was concerned about was the safety of his staff and the prosecution of Australia’s wartime commitments in the region.

There could be only one winner in the apparent disagreement between Paul and Commodore Collins over Toowoomba’s seaworthiness.

Vice Admiral Jones makes a most salient point.  “The date was 1942, however Paul’s principled stand then resonates today where there is much greater appreciation on ensuring the material condition of ships ‘ship safe’ regime”.[vi]  So I remain bemused that Collins and the Naval Board (apparently) dismissed Hirst’s caution out of hand.

Despite Collins having been closely associated with Hirst’s promotion to Commander and Hirst’s exemplary wartime record in the Dutch East Indies in 1942, Paul would no doubt have given serious consideration to all Collins had to say before he (Hirst) decided ‘Resignation it must be’.

Both men were true gentlemen, outstanding Naval Officers and leaders (particularly in the case of Commodore Collins) and each would have known what the outcome of their disagreement had to be.  First and foremost though was that Australia’s Naval Activities in the Dutch East Indies and also in Australian waters would take precedence over personal friendships.  Paul would have understood this clearly.

Paul then returned to Toowoomba keeping much to himself until the following day.  At an appropriate time, he assembled the ship’s company on Fremantle wharf, advised them of his meeting with The Senior Officer Western Australia, Commodore Collins, and told the crew (words to the effect) – “I’ve decided to resign my Commission.  I will be returning to my family in Tasmania.  You have been an amazing crew.  I wish you well for the future”.[vii]  On Paul’s departure, a period of considerable gloom settled over Toowoomba.

The Aftermath

Repairs to Toowoomba were not affected until November 1942.  Yes, a new Commanding Officer was appointed shortly after Hirst’s resignation, but the original crew remained aboard until Toowoomba arrived in Adelaide for docking and repair.

The obvious question as far as I am concerned: ‘Why did Paul Hirst feel compelled to resign IF the repairs to Toowoomba were essential and arranged to be completed in Adelaide soon after his resignation’?

On arrival Adelaide, Toowoomba was docked for repairs and her original crew (including all officers) were reassigned (posting notes and appointments) far and wide within the RAN.

Clearly, the Naval Board wanted a lid put on the whole incident.  On 22 November 1942 Toowoomba was assigned to duty to the British Eastern Fleet involved in escort and patrol duties across the Indian Ocean reaching as far west as the Persian Gulf operating with the fleet until returning to Fremantle on 3 December 1944 for refit.  That refit was completed in March 1945, and Toowoomba joined the British Pacific Fleet, assigned to escort and patrol duties between Australia and New Guinea until the end of hostilities.

Following the end of World War II, Toowoomba spent time in Hong Kong, performing minesweeping and hydrological survey duties; returning to Australia in December 1945.  The corvette earned two battle honours for her wartime service, “Pacific 1942” and “Indian Ocean 1942–44”.

Following his resignation, Paul returned to his beloved Tasmania.  However, he was not done with service in our Armed Forces.  In September 1945 he volunteered for duty as a Captain with the Australian Army and was appointed Master of Craft with the Army’s water transport corps.  Paul’s appointment in the Army was terminated (at his request) in January 1947.  He then returned to farming in Tasmania.  His wife Evelyn passed away in 1963 and Paul was laid to rest in Carrick Church Cemetery, Tasmania, in 1973.

Shipmates attending Paul’s funeral in 1973 at Low Head, Tasmania, recalled: ‘Digger had an uncanny ability to avoid the bombs from Japanese aircraft’.  Norm Smith, another shipmate, wrote, Paul Hirst ‘had brought the ship through several close encounters with the enemy of the time so I and 80 or so others revere his memory in perpetuity’.[viii]  Vale

HMAS Toowoomba (1)

HMAS Toowoomba During Pre-Commissioning Trials 1941

HMAS Toowoomba at Fremantle on return from Active Duty in Singapore and Dutch East Indies
March 1942

Namesake: City of Toowoomba, Queensland

 
Builder: Walkers Limited in Maryborough, Queensland

 
Laid down: 6 August 1940

 
Launched: 26 March 1941

 
Commissioned: 9 October 1941

 
Decommissioned: 5 July 1946

 
Motto: “Fearless”

 
Honours and awards: Battle honours:

•          Pacific 1942

•          Indian Ocean 1942–44

 
Fate: Transferred to Royal Netherlands Navy

Acknowledgements

Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d); Mr John Perryman Sea Power Centre, Canberra ACT; National Archives of Australia; Signalman Donald Fraser and his family; The Australian War Memorial; The Hirst Family (Tasmania and Toowoomba QLD); Historical Societies of Hobart Tasmania and Carrick Tasmania; Dr Ian Pfennigwerth [Captain RAN Ret’d] and The Royal Australian Navy.

References

[i] Undated letter from Able Seaman Donald Fraser – commissioning signalman HMAS Toowoomba.

[ii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geelong 2016. Pp428.

[iii] Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell RAN.

[iv] Royal Australian Navy papers 1911.

[v] Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell RAN.

[vi] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 17.

[vii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Preface.

[viii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp19

[ix] Royal Australian Navy papers 1911.

[x] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 640.

[xi] Paul Hirst’s personal papers.

[xii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 428.

[xiii] Personal communication Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d).

[xiv] Signalman Fraser interview by Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d) for Australia’s Argonauts).

[xv] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 636.

Occasional Paper 35: Loss of HMAS Parramatta (II): First Hand Accounts

September 2018

Recently the Naval Historical Society of Australia was favoured with two handwritten letters from survivors of the sinking of HMAS Parramatta (II) off Tobruk overnight 27 November 1941.  The first is by Able Seaman Harold Moss is to the mother of Ordinary Seaman Lyall J. Smith who was lost when the ship sank.  The second is a somewhat more upbeat story by reporter Reg Greenwood of the Western Mail as told by Able Seaman F.W. Tysoe.

Letter: Able Seaman Harold Moss to Mrs Smith

AB H Moss
Mess 5
HMAS Napier
c/o GPO
29 July 1942

Dear Mrs Smith,

I have been asked by my mother to write to you and to tell you what I know about Lyall. I would like you to understand that I would have written to you months ago, only for the fact I felt that to write then would be to induce more grief to you than you were already suffering; so I thought I would drop in and see you when I return home.

But now as you have asked I will say what I would have said before. First my really deep sympathy to you for his loss. The last four or five months before he died I was one of his real cobbers. He joined up the same time as I did and we both travelled to Melbourne together. That ten days leave in August 1940 we were together. I saw him several times in Adelaide. Then back we went and finally overseas together.  Of course, he had his own particular cobbers and stuck to them. We also incidentally used to go out and to the same place to see our girls and his girl knew mine and we sometimes used to go to the theatre together. Anyhow we arrived in England and were sent to depot where we were sent on leave. I went to Scotland (Glasgow) and he went to Edinburgh. I never saw him until we were back on leave. Then we were drafted to the Aurora, we were nearly 9 months on her and then paid off. After some more leave we were split up and 8 of us were drafted to the Parramatta.

He was then separated from his cobbers, one of whom was Alan Roberts. Anyhow we used to get together and talk about the different things we were going to do after we got out of the Service and he was telling me he didn’t think he would marry until after finishing his 12 years. We went ashore together in Durban and Suez. In Suez we had our photos taken in Arab dress. I went back there when I was there last to try and get the photo again but the negative was destroyed. I really was looking forward to getting that photo. We picked up our ship there and later on was to see our first bit of action. A German plane attacked us in the Red Sea but his bombs fell over us. We caught him as he went away and was later credited with shooting it down. I recon we were all rather nervous but none of us new hands said anything and then after that we felt like old hands. Shortly after that we went through the canal to the Med. We went ashore together in Alexandria. After that we had several air attacks and once went to Tobruk at night. Coming back we anchored in Mersa Matruh and had hardly dropped anchor when they started to bomb the shore. They kept us awake for hours. We came back and two days later we left Alex for Tobruk. These were the days of the siege and supplies just had to get through. We took a convoy of small supply ships with us.

Anyhow to get to the night on which we were sunk, we were off Tobruk and this night was rather heavy seas, moon was generally hidden by dark clouds and rain. This rain by the way caused the greater majority of deaths. Every(one) used to sleep on deck and through the rain they all had to go below. Lyall was my opposite watch then and at midnight when I went below he came on deck to keep his watch on the forward gun. It was raining and just before I went down I had a funny feeling. I thought that it would (be) pretty awful to be adrift in that sea. I went right forward to try to get a place to sleep but there was no room so I came back amidships and lay on a stool in a little spare mess we had. My lifebelt was blown up and near my feet. At 12.20 I looked at my watch and then I was just dozing off when she was hit. I never want to hear that noise ever, I was thrown to the deck and the lights were out. I grabbed my lifejacket and was up the ladder and on deck in 10 seconds. I just got on deck when she lurched over and immediately began to sink. I couldn’t tie my belt on and it was swept away. I was then in the water and swam to where I saw a float. I got on and began helping other fellows on. We floated away and soon lost sight of the ship. We were picked up in about 21/2 hours. Although the chaps below who were forward wouldn’t have had a chance to get away there was those on deck who should have been alright. A large party of men were on a big float and the last chap to be picked up said they were still Ok when he left. I can’t possibly help you in definitely saying Lyall went. Because no one I know, who knew him ever saw him. There were lots of men clinging to rafts and pieces of wood. The next morning there was no survivors in sight. The night was bitterly cold and I couldn’t have lasted much longer myself. For myself I can’t believe that everyone who is missing is dead and I feel that there may be some who are in POW camps in Germany. It was hard for me to realise that my friends, chaps who I had known as brothers were gone and it affected me for a long time.

I’m not of a emotional character myself but have found myself close to tears whenever I remember that night.

I’m afraid that all I can tell you. I can give you Ian Roberts address but of course he wasn’t on the ship. I do sincerely hope I haven’t told you anything which may cause you more grief but rather may help you.

Anything more I can do I shall only be so pleased.

Yours sincerely,

Harold Moss

HMAS Parramatta (2) at Port Tewfic September 1940 RAN Image

 

Sourced from The Western Mail, Perth dated 23 April 1942

A West Australian Survivor of HMAS Parramatta – Exclusive Story

Able Seaman William Frederick Tysoe of Denmark (W.A.) was a member of the crew of HMAS Parramatta which was torpedoed in the Mediterranean Sea early this year. Now back home on leave he told his story to Reg Greenwood, The Western Mail representative of Albany.

On a recent evening a sturdy bright-eyed sailor lad, with a fine crop of light wavy hair, brushing by, rose to his feet on the crowded floor of the Denmark Public hall. In a few halting sentences he expressed thanks to hundreds of well–wishers of the town and district for the goodwill and congratulations showered upon him and his respected aged parents on his return to the tiny naval home which he left nearly 3 years earlier, in search for adventure, and with keen desire to serve Australia in her hour of need.

In his hands he held, a collection of gifts as tangible evidence of the esteem he enjoys throughout the district where he grew to manhood, worthily playing his part in varied vocations until he heard the call for duty. Nearby sat his parents Mr & Mrs Roger Tysore, who had come from Staffordshire (England) over 30 years ago to face with stout hearts the vicissitudes self-pioneering days in the then sparely settled Denmark bushlands. Their hearts swelled with pride as various speakers eulogised the good qualities of the sailor son young Fred now his 23rd year.

He is one of the survivors of the complement of 172 of HMAS Parramatta, a unit which played a glorious part for our navy until she fell a victim to an enemy submarine in the Mediterranean Sea about 1 o’clock in the morning of Thursday November 27th 1941.

In the intervening four weeks young Tysoe – mourned as lost by his parents and eight sturdy brothers – endured suffering and encountered adventures in Northern Africa such as seldom falls to the lot of those with a craving for thrills.

There was however little trace of privation on his erect and sturdy frame when he stepped over the threshold of his home a week ago, to enjoy to the full 23 days of leave granted, after two years and nine months of service with the boys in blue.

Training Days

Seated on the veranda of his home, a mile from Denmark young Tysoe modestly related his experiences, and a note of pathos occasionally intruding, as he spoke of many gallant comrades and Commander Walker, who went down with his ship. “In fact, we lost the whole of our 10 officers said Tysoe.”

“I was posted to Flinders Naval Depot on August 4th 1939”, he continued “and drafted to the Parramatta 10 months later as ordinary seaman. Some months of patrol was followed and on June 30th 1940, we sailed from a West Australian port for overseas. We had Aden for our base for nearly a year doing convoy duty in the Red Sea to Port Sudan, Our ship transferred to the Mediterranean about July of last year, and we ran from Alexandria to Tobruk. Things were pretty warm in that section just about this time and we frequently had to beat off air attacks. A quite spell on the Port Said – Cyprus run followed.

A Hellish Night

We left Alexandria on November 24th, with Commander Walker (just promoted) in charge of the Parramatta, our complement being 172 officers and men. The first day out was uneventful but on the 2nd day a Junkers plane flew over our convoy of four ships. We opened fire on it but did not contact. It was raining at nightfall, and there was a choppy sea. About 1am we were hit by two torpedoes from a submarine whose presence was unsuspected. One of these exploded by the wardroom, under the off gun blowing the turret to blazes and causing some casualties. The sloop of 1,060 tons reeled like a drunken man with the impacts and then broke in halves & capsized. Our position at this time was about 25 miles from shore 120 miles north of Bardia. Her bow and stern were projecting. There was no time to launch boats and some of the crew were trapped below. Discipline was however excellent despite the pitch blackness of the night and a rough sea. I had just came off watch at midnight and was asleep in a motor boat on the upper deck. The impact jolted me off my slumber and I secured a cork lifebelt which I just draped under my arms, not having time to don it. I had to climb the upper deck midships and then walked down the sloping side, and entered the water which was coated with oil. I swam about for some time, and contacted two mates, but later lost touch with them. I then swam back to the ship and was pulled on the stern by another man to join nine others. One chap near the water slipped, but we stayed there about half an hour. The stern part then tilted and put us back in the water. This would be about 1:45 am. One of the convoy was standing by, about a quarter of a mile away and we swam towards her, but she did not remain, fearing the submarine might also get her. She did pick up 19 of our chaps. I then swam with a mate to a Carley Float about 4ft 6ins long and 3ft wide. There was another chap – Signaller Miller of Glenelg, South Aus. on the float and my mate was another “crow” Alec Sadhams of North Walkerville, Adelaide, SA. It was now 3am and pretty cold, I was fully clothed except shoes, and Miller was pretty right also, but poor Sadhams only had a pair of shorts on. The float had no provisions and only one paddle. We drifted until daylight, and often heard calls but could do nothing for those less fortunate than ourselves.

That’s the End

That’s the end of it; we’ll try and make shore said Miller next morning, when a ship about 10 miles off failed to see us. About midday we saw a whale boat, dropped from one of our ships. It was about a mile closer to shore, which was just discernible. Miller, with one paddle managed to get our float close to it, and we boarded only to find it half full of water- somebody had forgotten to put in the plug. We found plenty of bully beef, biscuits and water on her and also a tin hat, with which we baled. Poor old pal Ladhams was feeling – and looking pretty blue owing to lack of clothes and we used to snuggle him between us at night and let the whaler drift closer to shore. At times two of us would row and the other steer.

About 5pm on the day after we had lost our ship we landed on a little beach between two reefs about 20 miles north of Bardia. We beached our craft high and removed the provisions and plenty of water. On an adjacent ridge we could see trucks passing occasionally and thought they were some of ours. We were making towards them when we ran across an Arab camp of about 30 tents. They first took us for Italians, our bodies being discoloured through swimming in the oily water when the ship went down. Believe me the fumes were pretty crook. We were taken before the chief who spoke broken English, having been a native policeman. We were allowed to wash and given clothes. I had an issue of a pair of British Army trousers, and the rest was of Italian make. We were not given footwear, as they thought we might run away. Our feet were too sore for that however having been cut by barnacles, and we had no desire to do so. Our first meal comprised a boiled egg each, coffee and Arab bread, which isn’t the best in the world. We were given a tent and had dropped off to sleep about 6:15pm.

Hid by Arabs

We stayed with the Arab camp about a fortnight. The Arabs had some women in their party, and the old chief seemed to have about 10 wives. One of these gave Ladhams the “Glad Eye”, and we told him he was in the boom. The weather was still bad, and we were flooded out one night having only grass mats for bedding. We just sat like shags on a rock and awaited daylight –pretty wretched and miserable. One day the chief got word of a likely move from a big German camp about 2 miles away, so he removed us to a big cave for the day. We came back at night.

About three miles off a big tank battle was in progress and at night planes could be seen dropping bombs. Our ration was now mainly bully beef from the whaler. When this gave out we went back to Arab fare. We tried to get a letter through to the English lines by an Arab messenger, but we never saw, or heard of him again. Frequently Italian and German soldiers came to the camp, and had a meal before going on. We were hidden in a nearby tent under blankets and could hear their conversation very plainly. Luckily the old chief never gave us away. He was a great diplomat and maintained neutrality, at least outwardly.

A South African force broke through the enemy lines one day and the Arabs welcomed them with open arms – so did we. The scouts at first took us as Italians; owing to our colour and a sentry challenged as we advanced towards him, I said” You’re a sight for sore eyes” and he lowered his rifle and grinned. They took us to trucks and fed us with tinned sausages, biscuits and coffee. I was given cut away sandshoes and the other two received books. We then went to headquarters off Bardia and were given fine treatment. Our next move was a field hospital. We had been dressing our cuts and abrasions with a compound called “Razorquick” found in the Arab camp and this turned out to be shaving cream. Anyhow it was effective, having healing ingredients.

It took us a week of travel with many stoppages to reach Alexandria. Our first move was to send cables to our folks telling of our safety. We spent two very happy months in that city, doing the sights in great style with a new issue of white shorts and singlets   .

We sailed from Alexandria on January 20th for Bombay and arrived in Melbourne on March 28th. A Tasmanian lad named Smith had also been picked up in the desert after getting ashore from the Parramatta. He had a rougher spin than we did before the Arabs found him. He came home from with us and is now well.

Miller, Ladhams and I were all good pals in the Flinders depot being in the same class and we were drafted to the Parramatta together. Miller is 19 and full of courage, while Ladhams is 20 and a great scout also. I guess we will all enjoy our leave before reporting for duty again.

I know the old bed at home felt good to me after nearly three years absence from it. Still when one goes to sea, he cannot look for a luxury existence. My experiences to date have well fitted me for anything the future might hold. But it is sure great to see the parents and brothers at home rejoicing that I have returned safely. I have a brother somewhere in Singapore, I hope his luck will equal mine.

HMAS Parramatta (2) at Mersa Matruh, June 1941 RAN Image

 

 

Occasional Paper 34: Paddle Steamer Weeroona

September 2018

Recently the attention of the NHSA was drawn to the possibility of a paddle-steamer serving in the RAN.  It appears that the closest was PS Weeroona built as a Port Phillip excursion steamer, originally considered as an RAN patrol vessel until wiser council prevailed, but taken over by the USN in 1942.  She was used as a rest vessel around the New Guinea area and further North and brought back in 1945.  This article by Max Thomson, an Honorary Life Member of the Naval Historical Society reprinted from the Afloat magazine July 2003 edition covers the life of Weeroona.

The story of what became of old Weeroona is a fascinating chapter in our maritime archives – especially our history of the old paddle-steamers. Built in the Scotland in 1910 for a subsidiary of the renowned Huddart Parker Company, Weeroona took something like 70 days on her delivery voyage from Glasgow out to Australia via the Suez Canal. Resplendent with spacious promenade decks, saloons, a most impressive lounge, dining rooms and even a hair-dressing salon, Weeroona was designed to carry 1,900 passengers. Becoming the doyen of Port Phillip’s bay excursion steamers, Weeroona won widespread popularity catering for trade picnic excursions to Sorrento and Queenscliff.

With the allies at war against the Japanese following Pearl Harbour, Weeroona was acquired by the United States Navy early in 1942 with plans to refit the paddle-steamer for use ‘up north’ as a convalescence and accommodation ship. Leaving her happy bay-tripper days in Melbourne about August 1943, the venerable paddle-steamer Weeroona splashed and paddled her way to Sydney destined never to return to her happy day-tripper excursion days in Port Phillip Bay. Under tow, she then proceeded to Brisbane and on to New Guinea.

When General Douglas MacArthur fulfilled his renowned “I Shall Return” promise and invaded the Philippines, there came the need to shift an immense amount of the paraphernalia of war from his forward headquarters at Hollandia, to Leyte Gulf. Weeroona became part and parcel of a conglomeration of vessels which came to be regarded as the queerest convoy ever to traverse the wartime Pacific. Eight columns wide, the big echelon of vessels was made up of ocean going tugs most of which had, strung on astern under tow, two or even three units so many of which comprised massive pontoons onto which big petroleum and other bulk storage tanks had been built, floating docks big and small, fuel tankers some of which had been built of concrete; plus a wide assortment of lighters and small craft. When another echelon of vessels assembled at Biak joined the convoy off Hollandia it made up a total of 96 units in the convoy – with an escort screen around them that consisted of the American destroyer escort USS Crown as Senior Officer of the Navy escort group; the US Patrol Cutters PC 610, PC 1241 and PC 3810, with the Australian frigate HMAS Hawkesbury guarding the stern of the convoy. The spread of units in the eight columns was so extensive that a Commodore of the Convoy commanded the echelon from the first ship in Column 5, with a rear Commodore away back in a vessel named See Konk at the rear of the echelon. Special vessels were included to refuel any units enroute and there even was a crashboat designed to speed in and out of the convoy columns for special assignments. Ever prominent was old Weeroona, with its sides all boarded-up for the passage to the Philippines – under tow from a big ocean-going tugboat. Four knots was signalled as the ‘speed of advance’ … but rarely indeed was four knots ever to be achieved by the incredible accumulation of oddball vessels.

Calm weather prevailed for three days but then “All Hell!” broke loose. High winds and heavy seas pounded the convoy mercilessly. Towlines began to snap with monotonous regularity, leaving all sorts of oddball convoy units adrift. Renewing the towlines was hard enough by day, horrendous amid the darkness of night in the crashing seas. At one stage one of the large floating docks broke its tow line and wallowed helplessly. Amid great difficulties, HMAS Hawkesbury launched a seaboat and managed, after much difficulty, to put a crew aboard the floating dock to help renew the towline. Forever in the memory of the Australian frigate’s crew is the sight of the warship belting into heavy seas while towing the big floating dock until it could hand over the towline to an ocean-going tug.

USS Cronin was obliged to sink with gunfire another unit of the convoy that had broken away and HMAS Hawkesbury used depth charges to ‘despatch’ a big pontoon made up of individual steel tanks that were breaking up and making it awkward for gun crews to sink individually. One of the small tankers was found to have its engine room flooded to add to the drama … and on some of the big pontoons men, sheltered originally in tents to guard the towing cables, had to be rescued.

After 13 exhaustive days, USS Cronin broke radio silence just for a moment to alert Fleet Authorities at Leyte Gulf, in the Philippines – resulting in the American destroyer escort Charles E. Davis racing south to help plus two additional big heavy-tow tugboats. For its part, old Weeroona weathered the gales in fine style … riding well at the end of its heavy steel towing cable and for the most part with the tug and Weeroona on correct station in the big echelon of vessels. Weeroona, still under tow amid that memorable convoy, won a place in history when it proudly saluted the massive fleet assembled in Leyte Gulf. It was as proud a moment of glory as the old paddle-steamer had ever enjoyed in her career of Port Phillip Bay excursions.

Weeroona eventually went on to Manila, serving there as an accommodation and convalescence ship for American servicemen. At war’s end, the valiant old paddle-steamer was towed all the way back to Sydney. She languished in the upper reaches of Sydney Harbour for five years. She was never to return to her happy excursion days in Port Phillip Bay, for the era of paddle-steamers and bay trippers had passed. Weeroona was broken up in 1951.  Melbourne Museum holds a spectacular scale model of the venerable paddlesteamer and the Historical Museum at Queenscliff, in its museum, displays items of furniture from the ship along with other artifacts.

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