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HMAS Nizam

HMAS Vendetta WW2

This is part 3 of an hitherto unpublished personal account was given to the Editor shortly before the death of the author, together with several other brief accounts of his wartime experiences.

I joined Vendetta at Cockatoo Dock on 26 September 1944 and took over as Commanding Officer from Lieutenant Commander J.S. Mesley on 27th September.

On 3rd October we moved down to Kurraba to oil, thereafter ammunitioning, and out to sea for trials on 5 October.

Left Sydney on 9 October. Into Brisbane on 10th for fuel etc. and left on 11th – time enough to renew my acquaintance with the Borovansky Ballet which was dancing in that city.

Through the China Straits on 14 October and arrived in Milne Bay at 1100. Sailed for Langemak next day. I noted that it was a very interesting trip, particularly through the Ham and Veal Passage where we used our A/S set to give range off the reefs. Later I found that the dockyard had connected the training gear of the A/S set to the wrong leads, and when we thought the oscillator was trained to starboard it was in fact facing to port. What sort of a defence would that have been if we had run aground?

Sailed for Madang on 17th October and very proud to bring my old V&W ship alongside under the watchful and critical eye of my old Captain of Voyager days, Commander J.C. Morrow DSO RAN.

He was Commander D of the escort forces working from Madang.

Left at 2200 for Manus and arrived there a.m. 18th October. Exercises with a submarine on 19th, and found out the fault with the oscillator. Lieutenant Hinchliffe was the flotilla A/S officer.

Back to Madang after a gunnery (AA) shoot off Manua. Secured with an anchor down, and a line to the coconut trees ashore. Bombardment practice at sea for a couple of days.

I noted a wonderful birthday party on board on my 28th birthday, when the food and drink were greatly appreciated by some of my less fortunate soldier friends from ashore.

Bombardment exercises. I went up in a Beaufort one day when it spotted for Swan. The pilot tried but didn’t quite succeed in making me ill.

Left on Operation Battleaxe on 31st October with Commander D, Commander Morrow embarked in Vendetta, Swan (Peter Hodges) and Barcoo (Colin Hill). Fuelled at Dredger Harbour and then in to Langemak. Slipped at 0530 on 2 November for Lae, left there at 1900/2nd November with Swan, Barcoo and a Liberty ship. Arrived off Jacquinot Bay (New Britain) before dawn on 4 November. No resistance whatever. Anchored close in and landed the army. Went ashore with Commander D and Group Captain Lachell, thereafter remained at anchor until midnight 5/6 November. Took up bombarding positions off Wide Bay at 0600/6 November and after 20 Beauforts had carried out a strike, we closed in to 4,000 yards and carried out a bombardment. We had 30 minutes fun – close range (800 yards) on one target. Results very hard to tell as the jungle hides everything. Back to Jacquinot Bay with the remark in my diary ‘ What a war!’

To Langemak for fuel, and back to Madang arriving on 9th November.

There I got a signal confirming a buzz that I had been appointed CO of Nizam which was refitting in Melbourne.

Lieutenant Commander Gilbert S. Gordon RAN arrived later on 9th November and took over officially on 11th November.

At 0400 on 12th I was rowed ashore in the whaler by the officers, terribly proud that the ship’s company turned out at that hour to farewell me.

The first instalment of these memoirs was published in the March 2004 edition of the Review.
The second instalment was published in the June 2004 edition of the Review.

HMAS Perth Part2 – Outbreak of war

This is part 2 of an hitherto unpublished personal account was given to the Editor shortly before the death of the author, together with several other brief accounts of his wartime experiences.

Jamaica

Patrol routine took up a pattern of about ten days at sea, followed by three or four days in Kingston to refuel, store, provision, do self-maintenance and give daily leave. We grew very fond of the city, its colourful, friendly people and beautiful environs. One remembers the stall vendors, lining up under the flares near the dockyard gates, enticing the returning sailor, lucky enough to have some money left, to buy from a vast assortment of trivia as he moved reluctantly back on board before all leave expired at 11.30 p.m. And the banana loading on the opposite side of the wharf; the women in their bright headgear, carrying great hands of green bananas as they swayed past the tallyman, who sliced off, with razor sharp knives and uncanny accuracy, the overhanging stems on each side of the hands (of bananas). The sailors would watch entranced, then try to distract him, to cause him to miss a cut, but he would look over his shoulder, laugh at us and then, turning back, catch up with several lightning passes. We cheered, and everyone was happy.

Smuggling liquor on board when returning from leave was a worry for the Commander, till one alert Officer of the Watch, in the gloom of the prevailing ‘dim-out’ which was observed in Kingston, noticed that the Coca Cola carried by one sailor looked very pale. How easy it had been to take off the crown seal, empty the lollywater and fill the bottle with rum.

On one occasion history repeated itself at the local nightclub, the Glass Bucket, when a young officer, by sheer bad luck, overstayed his leave and was observed by his Captain. As a midshipman in 1935, this same officer had been observed by Commander Farncomb in the same night club breaking the same rule. As befitted his maturity, on this occasion, he underwent a more sophisticated punishment.

I seem to remember that one evening the wardroom was entertaining the Colonel and officers of the local British regiment to dinner on board. The atmosphere was reminiscent of the Eve of Waterloo, with officers in mess undress, securing their ‘parts of ship’ beforehand.

Hurricane

This was quite an experience. I remember we remained at Cruising Stations and I was in the 6″ Control Tower during the middle watch. Had we met the enemy in those conditions, it certainly would have been a non-event.

Halifax

Halifax was fun. Nova Scotia in the fall was beautiful and, after the tropics, cold. The indefatigable PTI Patching arranged a rugger match against a University team and whilst we Australians amused the Canadian students with our beards and English-cut rugger shorts, they made our day memorable with their brass band, drumettes and cheer leaders.

Panama Canal

This was the first time through the Panama for many of the ship’s company. Old hands from HMAS Australia had been initiated. Perth was to traverse the Canal three times in due course so we all became a little blasé with this most interesting operation. I seem to remember ‘Hands to Bathe’ over the side in the Gatun Lake – not having at that time any local knowledge about crocodiles – ‘freshies’ I hope. Some of us went ashore in Panama for an hour or two but voted it couldn’t compare with our beloved Kingston.

Refuelling at Sea

This was interesting – and historic – as the operation of fuelling a destroyer at sea whilst underway was then relatively new. I had seen it once in the Med. in 1936. Modern sailors with years of experience in this technique will smile condescendingly at the rate of transferring fuel – 242 tons in 3½ hours. This probably did not take into account the time spent in the approach, connecting hoses and disconnecting. The destroyer moved up parallel to the cruiser and edged in very cautiously. A line was shot across from the bigger ship and the destroyer hauled in a spring (usually a 5″ or 6″ manila) which was led from the bow of the cruiser. The smaller ship then ‘sat back’ on the spring while the oil hose was passed across and oiling commenced. In early experiments a ‘breast’ was passed between ships, but this proved not only useless but dangerous, and was dispensed with. By the end of the war, the operation of approaching and of securing the hose was done in minutes and without springs or other lines, and 200 tons per hour was not uncommon.

We took the towing hawser (a 5½ wire, I think) to the Houston City in our pinnace – with a large portion of it coiled up in the boat and ‘stopped’ with cordage at strategic points. I was sent in the boat (we had no midshipmen) with a giant of a man as Coxswain. I was very proud of the job we did and bitterly disappointed (as we all were) when the wire parted as Perth went slowly ahead.

Christmas at Sea

Christmas Day was a very happy occasion in spite of the disappointment of the many sailors who had expected to be back in Australia. I have an autographed copy of the Special Menu for that day. Old Perth sailors swear that the man in cells was let out for the day on the condition that he promised to be back for Commander’s Rounds at 9 p.m. (He was!)

Tahiti

The passage across the Pacific was calm, unhurried and uneventful. Tahiti will always be remembered as it was then an unspoiled, friendly place, full of laughing happy people who made the war we had been participating in seem very far away. A midnight picnic, a full moon, tropical palms, a coral beach, charming hosts and hostesses passing guitars from one to another and everyone singing happily – what a life!

Arrival in Sydney

In Sydney we were a little embarrassed by being treated as ‘returned’ men when, in fact, although we had been doing our job, it had been such a pleasant and non- arduous one. We marched through Sydney past the tram shed on Benelong Point, just to the west of Man-O-War Steps. I have nothing of interest to add from here on – I was only in the ship until a day or so after Captain Bowyer-Smith joined, to take over.

Captain Farncomb was always tremendously loyal towards, and fond of, his old midshipmen. On leaving Yarra to go to the UK for Perth he had asked me (his sub-lieutenant then) what I wished to do next – I answered, of course, “Go to Perth with you, Sir.” Then, when he left Perth he asked me what I wanted. The only war worth being in was in the Med, so I asked to go to the 10th Destroyer Flotilla, which I did in June/July 1940 (in HMAS Voyager).

HMAS Voyager – 1940 – Mediterranean Fleet

I joined Voyager in Alexandria on August 25th 1940 and relieved Lieutenant Commander A.G. (Yank) Lewis as First Lieutenant. Although I had served in a small ship (HMAS Yarra) this was my first destroyer. Convoy to Malta was the first job. Two twin Lewis guns, two 2pdr pom- poms and four 4″ low angle guns were no match for the high flying Italian planes which one could hardly see. Often in those pre-radar (and pre RDF) days the first intimation of an air raid was the splash of bombs.

My first taste of bombing in harbour was whilst in Malta doing a refit. We took out the after set of torpedo tubes (triples) and put in a 3″ HA gun, and best of all, the Chief made a bath out of some steel sheet and fitted it up in the wardroom store (illegally of course). Officers had round ‘bird baths’ which secured  to the deckhead of their cabins. Cabin hands brought hot water in cans to the cabin. We had great respect for the Maltese – particularly the dockyard mateys who worked very well under constant threat of bombing.

Back to Alexandria for the first Libyan (Desert) campaign. Landing Commando raids behind Italian lines, supplying the Army, supporting the troops with bombardments (mostly we escorted the large monitor HMS Terror and the old gunboats HM Ships Aphis, Cricket and Gnat). Plenty of submarine alerts, lots of  bombing, excitement in capturing a small schooner one night as it tried to run our blockade. We were bombed on Christmas Day in Sollum when No. 3 Squadron RAAF in Gladiators attacked some Savoia 79s. Went ashore at Bardia and Derna soon after the Army had taken those places (have some photos somewhere, one of a near miss just off the foc’sle, with the Cox’n in the foreground also taking a photograph). We made occasional runs as escort on the screen of the Battle Fleet. Then came convoying to Athens; all night leave in that city. Followed by the evacuation. We took out 106 nurses from the 5th and 6th Australian General Hospitals (Lieutenant Commander McDonald OC, later Sir Charles McDonald, Chancellor of the University of Sydney) from Nauplia, on the night of 24/25 April, Anzac Day 1941. We were bombed all the way to Crete where we left them (the girls). After Crete, it was back to the desert to find Tobruk in siege. Voyager and Vendetta did the first ‘Spud Run’ of the Tobruk Ferry. We very nearly didn’t do any more, as we couldn’t find the way out through the boom at Tobruk and had to wait for daylight. We were sighted by a German plane soon after, but escaped back to Alexandria under cover of a khamsin (sand storm). Spud Runs became routine – load in Alex, up to Tobruk and unload, take on wounded, back to Mersa Matruh, load up – then Tobruk and so on back to Alex. Two day’s spell (in port) and repeat the dose. We lost HMAS Waterhen and HMS Defender from our Flotilla and on our last trip we limped back on one engine at 17 knots – the ship had had it!

So back to Australia we steamed, via Aden, Bombay, Colombo, Singapore, Sourabaya (Java), Darwin, Cairns, Townsville and Brisbane. Refit in Sydney, I left the ship on a ‘pierhead jump’ in January 1942 and went by the Cunard liner SS Aquitania to Singapore arriving there on 29th January, staying 48 hours only (thankfully) on my way to find HMAS Nizam.

(Singapore surrendered about a fortnight later. Ed)

The first instalment of these memoirs was published in the March 2004 edition of the Review.
The third and final instalment was published in the September 2004 edition of the Review.

Book Review: The Kellys

The Kellys – British J, K & N Class Destroyers of World War II
By Christopher Langtree
Published by Chatham Publishing, Kent, England
Distributed in Australia by Peribo
58 Beaumont Street, Mount Ku-Ring-Gai NSW 2080.
Hardcover 224 pages, RRP $110.00.

Reviewed by Vic Jeffery

One could be forgiven for thinking a book with the title, The Kelly’s, relates to the 19th Century Australian bushranger Ned Kelly and the infamous Kelly gang.

Not so; author and historian Christopher Langtree uses the name ‘Kelly’ as shorthand for all 24 members of the group which comprises three flotillas of eight each, of those magnificent British J, K and N class destroyers of World War Two.

The flotilla leader, HMS Kelly of course, was Lord Louis Mountbatten’s flagship and the most famous of the group. Of the three flotillas, the N-class flotilla was the only one to be entirely non-Royal Navy manned with five being Australian, two Dutch and one Polish-manned.

I believe they were perhaps the most handsome destroyers ever constructed. With their sleek low silhouettes, single raked funnel and a certain jauntiness about them, fast, heavily armed, innovative, and highly manoeuverable, they were a considerable advance in British destroyer design.

The five that served in the Royal Australian Navy during the War, Napier, Nizam, Nepal, Nestor and Norman were awarded 24 battle honours between them including Malta convoys, Atlantic, Bismarck 1941, Crete, Libya, Mediterranean, Indian Ocean, Pacific, Burma and Okinawa.

Amazingly, although the RAN’s N-class destroyers had a very busy war, only four men were lost to enemy action, in the Mediterranean when four stokers were killed when Nestor was near-missed by two heavy bombs which flooded the boiler rooms and caused the ship to lose power. A sister ship HMS Javelin took the stricken Nestor under tow, but as the tow parted twice and with more air attacks imminent at dawn, the daunting task of getting the crippled destroyer back to Alexandria 250 miles away became impossible. The decision was made to scuttle Nestor; her crew was taken off and she was sunk with a series of shallow set depth charges dropped nearby on 16 June 1941.

The second part of this book covers the entire service careers of the ships in detail, including the 12 lost on wartime service. It is indeed interesting to read the postwar careers of the four surviving RAN N-class ships after they reverted to Royal Navy control in 1945.

The five N-class in reserve, four former Australian and the former Polish Piorun (ex-Nerissa), came under close scrutiny for conversion to Type 16 frigates as part of the program to combat the new Soviet high-speed submarines that were entering service, which were faster than the wartime constructed anti-submarine frigates and sloops.

It was decided to produce a different type of conversion, the Type 18. These ships would have two primary purposes, firstly to protect convoys against submarine attack and secondly a seek-anddestroy role, in cooperation with aircraft if necessary.

History reveals that as the N-class destroyers were halfway through their hull lives, the project was not proceeded with. They remained in reserve until 1955 when the decision was made to dispose of them.

The 113 photos selected for this book are first class, with many never published previously.

The book fittingly opens with a doublepage spread of one of the finest destroyer shots of World War Two, a magnificent photo of HMS Kimberley at a vital moment of the Second Battle of Sirte on March 22, 1942. Kimberley is seen pounding through rough seas at 30 knots with guns elevated as the 14th Destroyer Flotilla turn to make a torpedo attack.

As well as the photographs, 24 technical and line drawings by John Lambert, 12 tables and eight appendices support this commendable book. John Roberts provides the known 17 colour camouflage schemes used by these ships.

These destroyers were certainly among the best destroyers of the Second World War. Ships based on the original design were still in service in the 1970s, long after these greyhounds of the sea had been scrapped.

Author Christopher Langtree is to be commended on his first effort in producing such an excellent reference book in an easy-to-read format, and also producing a work which fills a void in naval history.

 

Obituary: Rear Admiral Bryn Mussared (1917-1995)

Rear Admiral Bryn Mussared was born in 1917 in Semaphore SA, and entered the Navy in 1932.

On passing out from the Naval College, he was awarded ‘maximum time’ and the prizes for engineering, seamanship and navigation. In 1936 he was appointed to the RN Engineering College at Keyham, and returned to Australia to join HMAS CANBERRA in 1940.

Following the sinking of CANBERRA in the Solomon Islands in 1942, he spent time on Fleet Staff before joining HMAS VENDETTA, which was engaged in convoy duties between Townsville and New Guinea. In 1943 he was appointed Engineer Officer of HMAS NIZAM, serving firstly with the British Eastern Fleet and then the British Pacific Fleet off Japan. In 1946 he was mentioned in Despatches for distinguished service.

Following the Second World War, RADM Mussared served in HMAS TARANGAU and he met and married Betty – his wife of 48 years. He joined HMAS TOBRUK (the first post-war destroyer built in Australia) as the commissioning Engineer Officer in 1950, where his first son Philip was christened. In 1953 he was appointed to HMAS VENGEANCE. He saw active service in Korea in both TOBRUK and VENGEANCE.

RADM Mussared served as Commander of the Engineering School at HMAS CERBERUS in 1955 and the Commanding Officer of HMAS NIRIMBA in 1958, before being appointed to the staff of ANRUK in London. On return, he served as FMEO and CSO (T) on the staff of the Fleet Commander, before being promoted to Commodore and taking up the position of General Manager, Garden Island Dockyard in 1969.

Promoted to Rear Admiral in 1971, he became Project Director for the Light Destroyer Project and in 1972 went on to be the Third Naval Member and Chief of Technical Services. He was made a Companion of the British Empire in 1972 and retired in 1974.

Rear Admiral Brynmor Wheatley Mussared died on the 5th of November 1995, after a short illness.

HMAS Nizam – Typhoon 1945

HMS CALLIOPE, the third ship of that name in the Royal Navy, was a third class cruiser of 2,770 tons, launched in 1884 at Portsmouth. She became famous as the only survivor of seven men-of-war (six of them belonging to other nations), lying in the harbour of APIA BAY, SAMOA, when a terrific hurricane (sic) struck on 15 March 1889. Her Captain, Henry Coey Kane, fought his way out into the open ocean and saved his ship. The other six men-of-war were blown ashore and wrecked. (The remains of their boilers were still visible when HMAS AUSTRALIA visited Apia in March 1935 – WEC). Captain Kane ascribed his escape to the admirable order in which “Calliope’s” engines had been maintained. A special medal was struck by the Admiralty to commemorate the fine seamanship which made possible the survival of the ship in such tempestuous conditions, and one was issued to every officer and member of the ships company. The expected wrangle over which nation was to annex Western Samoa was averted in favour of Great Britain, there being no other foreign warships left to dispute her claims! After a mixed and interesting career, “Calliope” was finally sold for breaking up in 1951.

On 12 September, 1945, HMAS NIZAM, a fleet destroyer of the 7th Destroyer Flotilla, sailed from TOKYO BAY, where she had been since 30 August, in company with HMNZS GAMBIA, for detached duty with units of the US 5th Fleet at WAKAYAMA, some 300 miles to the south. It was expected that allied Prisoners of War from inland Japan – including Australian and New Zealand servicemen – were to be transported by rail to WAKAYAMA and the two Dominion ships were chosen to provide welcoming parties for their countrymen.

It was our first night at sea in peacetime since 2 September, 1939, and the pipe “Place oil bow and steaming lights” puzzled all but the oldest hands onboard.

The two ships were met off the entrance to WAKANOURA WAN by an American Destroyer Escort (DE) who led us into harbour via a safe channel with had only recently been swept.

The huge USN hospital ship CONSOLATION appeared to be taking up NIZAM’s anchorage as well as her own, and when we anchored we seemed in very close proximity to her. Our officers invited several USN doctors and nurses to the Wardroom after dinner and we had a very pleasant evening.

The weather deteriorated on 14 September – windy and raining – but NIZAM sent a group of officers and chief petty officers ashore to meet the returning POWs. To the delight of both parties, survivors from HMAS PERTH were amongst the Australians. When it was realised that there were many more Australians than had been expected, NIZAM’s reception party was greatly increased.

I went ashore to greet my old shipmates from PERTH with whom I had commissioned that ship in Portsmouth in July, 1939. Next day, they came off to NIZAM to attend their first shipboard Sunday Divisions and Prayers for more than three-and-a-half years. A very moving occasion. The USN organisation for the reception of the Released Allied Military Personnel (RAMP) was excellent.

Warnings of an approaching typhoon were received on Sunday, 16 September. The Captain of GAMBIA and his meteorological officer kindly came over to NIZAM and briefed me with all the information they had. They predicted that there was a chance of the typhoon recurving and passing over WAKAYAMA. Observing that we were in a reasonably safe anchorage and that access to the open sea was restricted, the Captain of GAMBIA advised that NIZAM stay at anchor in harbour. Even at that stage, with the centre of the typhoon some 800 miles away, a light swell was evident.

The weather became threatening next day, 17 September. The wind increased markedly at about 1600, and I ordered immediate notice for steam on both boilers (capable of developing 40,000 horsepower), and set an anchor watch, i.e. parties closed up on the forecastle and in the wheelhouse, with the Officer of the Watch on the bridge (and the Captain in his sea cabin!). The ship was yawing at her anchor but I decided not to drop the other anchor underfoot because of the difficulties of recovering both anchors in an emergency with only the one capstan available. She lay with six shackles out in eleven fathoms. By 2200 the wind had increased above gale force. Recordings taken in USS FLOYDS BAY recorded an average force of wind between 2100 and 2200 as 50 knots with gusts to 65 knots. During the height of the typhoon she recorded an average of 65 knots with gusts of up to 85 knots. (About 140 mph).

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