Ship sinking

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.

Publication March 2014 edition of the Naval Historical Review (all rights reserved)
By Hector Donohue

The German Raider HSK Stier and the American Freighter SS Stephen Hopkins

March 26, 2019

Many volumes have been committed to the deadly encounter between the Australian cruiser HMAS Sydney and the German raider HSK Kormoran. Depending on which side of the fence you sit, this can be seen as the greatest single tragedy to befall the Royal Australian Navy, or a magnificent victory by the Kriegsmarine. An Australian naval audience could be expected to have considerable knowledge of the Sydney/Kormoran encounter, but know little of the similar and equally intriguing Stier/Stephen Hopkins engagement. The primary role of German auxiliary cruisers in the war at sea was to delay and paralyse Allied shipping by destroying enemy commerce. They were therefore offensive vessels whereas Allied armed merchant cruisers were defensive, with their main role the protection of merchant shipping. An auxiliary cruiser often masqueraded as a peaceful vessel well suited to a particular area, then at the last moment removing her disguise to surprise and overpower an opponent.

During WWII the Kriegsmarine commissioned ten¹merchantmen as auxiliary cruisers, colloquially they were also known as commerce raiders. There were two classes: heavy cruisers and light cruisers. Kormoranwas the largest of the heavy cruisers at 8,736 grt, with a length of 164 m and maximum speed of 18 knots, manned by 401 men. She carried an armament of 6 x 150 mm, 2 x 37 mm and 5 x 30 mm guns, plus 6 x 21-inch torpedo tubes and 2 x Arado196 seaplanes.

HSK Stier was a light cruiser and the last of her type to escape the blockaded Axis coastlines and gain access to the open seas and lucrative Atlantic shipping lanes. Stier was 4,778 grt, 134 m long with a maximum speed to 14 knots, with a complement of 324 men. Her armament however was similar to the much larger Kormoran and she carried 2 x Arado231 seaplanes. Stier’s major drawback was her low maximum speed and the ineffectiveness of her two small aircraft which had been designed for U-boats and could only manage a few feeble flutters in calm water.

Horst Gerlach joined the navy during WWI but had limited operational service when in early 1941 he was appointed to command the requisitioned merchant ship Schiff 23 undertaking picket duty in the Baltic. New orders were received to convert the ship into an auxiliary cruiser and she was commissioned as HSK Stieron 11 November 1941. She was named after the captain’s wife’s star sign Taurus (in German ‘bull’ is Stier). The crew was young and inexperienced and there was little time for work-up.

On 9 May 1942 Stier left the Dutch port of Rotterdam in convoy with an escort of four large torpedo boats and 16 motor gunboats. The darkened ships crept along the French coast but two hours after midnight they were discovered by patrolling Royal Navy Motor Torpedo Boats (MTBs) who called for reinforcements and gave their position to the heavy gun batteries above Dover which covered the gap to the coast of France. The convoy had to contend with heavy fire from the 13.5-inch batteries and MTBs attacking from both sides with machine guns and torpedoes. Two of the escorts were sunk with considerable loss of life and one MTB was also sunk, but Stier escaped and made the fortified French port of Royan at the mouth of the River Gironde to the north of Bordeaux. She sailed from here into the Atlantic on 19 May, the last commerce raider to make this perilous voyage.

Because of her relatively slow speed Stierneeded to clear areas where convoys and escorts might be encountered so she entered the South Atlantic where single Allied ships might still be found. The poor performance of her scouting seaplanes also limited her operational range and to improve the chances of success, for a time she joined with another commerce raider HSK Michel. However, sightings were limited but after four months she could claim credit for having sunk three Allied ships including a large American tanker, Stanvac Calcutta.

Stier was now prowling the infrequently travelled waters between Cape Town and South America and had rendezvoused with the supply ship Tannenfels for provisions and to offload prisoners. On Sunday 27 September 1942, in calm seas covered by early morning fog, the two ships had stopped and were drifting with the opportunity taken to employ most of the ship’s company of Stierin cleaning marine growth from her waterline.

SS Stephen Hopkinswas a first generation Liberty ship with an all welded hull, built by Kaiser’s Richmond, California yard, and like many of her sisters was constructed on mass production lines at incredible speed. These relatively bulky general purpose freighters, of a simple British design with reciprocating engines from a past era, could be manufactured quickly and cheaply by largely unskilled labour. With German submarines sinking Allied merchant ships at an alarming rate it was necessary to supply new hulls fast or Britain would be starved of provisions. It is perhaps coincidental that 2,710 Liberty ships were eventually built by United States shipyards, almost exactly the same number (2,780) of Allied and neutral merchant ships sunk by U-boats.

Stephen Hopkins of 8,000 grt was 135 m long and her low powered reciprocating steam engines gave a top speed of 11.5 knots. She had an armament of one 4-inch (102 mm) gun of WWI vintage at the stern, two 37 mm guns forward and two 30 caliber machine guns on either side of the bridge. Under command of her master Paul Buck she had a crew of 41 men and a surprisingly large number of 15 Naval Armed Guards³commanded by Lieutenant Junior Grade Kenneth Willett, USNR. Her youngest crew member was 18-year-old Engineering Cadet Edwin O’Hara who enjoyed volunteering to help with gun drills.

Her maiden voyage had taken her from San Francisco on the US West Coast with wartime supplies and troops for the US supply base at Bora Bora in French Polynesia, then Wellington, New Zealand and Melbourne, Australia. She next proceededtoPortLincolnwheresheloaded grain for Durban, South Africa. Here she took on sugar for Cape Town and was now sailing in ballast to Dutch Guiana (now Suriname) in northeastern South America to load bauxite for New Orleans. After this her crew could expect some well-deserved leave.

The Battle

At 0852 on Sunday 27 September 1942 the fog lifted and the two German ships and the American sighted one another at about 4,000 metres. The Stephen Hopkins had been ordered to stop but thoughts of surrender were far from her Captain’s mind. Stier and Stephen Hopkins simultaneously cleared for action, the former was handicapped in recovering her crew, and wishing to escape, the latter put her stern towards the enemy, presenting a smaller target and bringing her main armament to bear upon the enemy. The first shots were from Stier’s secondary armament which raked Hopkins’s upper deck and critically wounded the First Mate, Richard Moczkowski. With the third salvo from Stier’s main armament she found the range and started to cause havoc. But Stier also received several well directed hits from Stephen Hopkins, one to her steering gear and another in her engine room.

The forward gun crews in Stephen Hopkins also paid attention to Tannenfels, keeping her out of the action and causing slight damage. The main thrust of the action was from the 4-inch gun under the command of Cadet O’Hara which managed to get away 35 rounds with an amazing success rate of 15 hitting their target. Later this brought praise from the unfortunate Kaptain zur See Gerlach who thought he was dealing with another armed merchant cruiser. Towards the end of the action with the remainder of his gun’s crew lying dead or wounded Cadet O’Hara fired the last shots alone. A fewmoments later he was killed by a shell which exploded nearby.

The action continued for about an hour until Stephen Hopkins slid below the waves, by which time all but 19 of her crew and naval gunners were dead. Lieutenant Willett, while severely wounded, remained on the bridge with the captain coordinating the overall return of fire. Kenneth Willet was last seen trying to cut away life rafts just before the ship sank.

Copy from USN Intelligence Report into sinking of HSK Stier (Raider “J’)

Those who fell during the action included Captain Buck, First Mate Moczkowski, Lieutenant Willett and Cadet O’Hara. The survivors managed to get away in the one remaining serviceable boat. Knowing that the prevailing current would take them towards South America, with great perseverance they proceeded on an 1,800 nautical mile ordeal on a diet of mostly malted milk tablets. After 31 days the survivors, now down to 15 men, waded ashore near Barro de Itabapoana north of the then Brazilian capital of Rio de Janeiro on 28 October 1942, to be eventually given a heroes’ welcome in New York before reuniting with their families.

The damage to Stierwas severe with fire taking hold and, with the loss of all power, firefighting equipment was useless. Accordingly, the decision was made to scuttle the ship and transfer all survivors (two men had died in the battle) to Tannenfels.On 02 November 1942 they arrived at Le Verdon-sur-Mer, which is on the opposite side of the River Gironde from where they had set out less than six months before. Their reception was less than enthusiastic with a noticeable lack of medals.

Conclusion

There are many similarities between the Sydney/Kormoran encounter and those of Stier/StephenHopkins. In both cases surprise and a lack of preparedness caused the loss of the superior naval ship. Stieris the only German surface warship destroyed by an American ship in WWII, and the only cruiser ever sunk in combat by a merchantman.

The Australian arrival of this rather ugly duckling seems to have been unheralded, but she was possibly the first of the famous Liberty ships that helped changed the course of the war to sail into Australian waters. In American naval annals Stephen Hopkins is remembered with her master Captain Paul Buck, First Officer Richard Moczkowski and Cadet Edwin O’Hara posthumously awarded Distinguished Service Medals. Lieutenant Kenneth Willett was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross. A destroyer and a building at the King’s Point Merchant Marine Academy (KPMMA) were later named in honour of Captain Paul Buck. A destroyer escort was named in honour of Lieutenant Kenneth Willett and a gymnasium at the KPMMA in honour of Cadet Edwin O’Hara.

Notes:

1.The lastauxiliary cruiser HSK Hansawas the captured British merchantman Glengarrywhich had been converted for commerce raiding but did not see active service in this role.

SS Stephen Hopkinswas named after a prominent early colonist who became governor of Rhode Island, and was a signatory to the Declaration of Independence.

3.American Naval Armed Guards (NAG) were equivalent to the British Defensively Equipped Merchant Ships (DEMS) concept. While NAG personnel were a part of the USN most had no prior naval background and after a short one-month training course were allocated as gun crews in merchant ships. A DEMS party was usually commanded by a RN Petty Officer or Royal Marine Sergeant.

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

October 29, 2018

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 2¹/₂hours. 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 23^rd 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 27^th 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 4^th 1939”, he continued “and drafted to the Parramatta 10 months later as ordinary seaman. Some months of patrol was followed and on June 30^th 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 24^th, 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 2^nd 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 20^th for Bombay and arrived in Melbourne on March 28^th. 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

The Hospital Ships Buenos Aires Maruand Wah Sui

September 24, 2018

Was the sinking of hospital ships isolated incidents which could be put down to mistaken identity or were they deliberate acts of destruction by those who had thrown away the rule book? With twenty-four hospital ships recorded as being sunk by enemy action during WWII it is difficult to reconcile that these were all accidental. These covered vessels of most belligerents, in numerical order losses were: Italy (7) Britain (5) Greece (4) Japan (3) Germany (2) and Australia, Norway and Russia one each. The most infamous was the loss of the Russian hospital ship Armenia when bombed and sunk by German aircraft in 1941 after evacuating civilians and wounded soldiers from Crimea, with over 5,000 deaths and only eight survivors. Remarkably the United States of America lost no hospital ships in this conflict. By comparison the Australian Hospital Ship Centaurat 3,222 tons was a small ship but with a large number of persons aboard including 75 crew, 55 medical staff and 192 passengers from the 2/12th Field Ambulance on passage to New Guinea. When torpedoed and sunk on her maiden voyage as a hospital ship she carried no patients but 268 lives were lost.

There is plentiful information on the tragic sinking of Centaur by a Japanese submarine in the early hours of 14 May 1943 and that of our greatest maritime tragedy, in terms of lives lost, the sinking of the Japanese transport Montevideo Maru when taking Australian POWs from Rabaul on 01 July 1942, but other related incidents have gone unreported.

Wah Sui

One of the great Allied tragedies of WWII was the fall of Singapore in February 1942. Because of suspected vulnerability to enemy aggression a few days before the surrender a decision had been made to evacuate as many European non-combatants as possible. Of special concern were women and children and patients from service hospitals, including female nursing staff. Just about anything that floated was used in this evacuation from Singapore to the then relative safety of the Dutch East Indies. Overall it was not a success with the majority of vessels being sunk with great loss of life amongst the 5,000 evacuees.

With no hospital ship available three small flat-bottomed Yangtze river boats were hastily converted into makeshift hospital ships and painted white with red crosses on their sides. They were not internationally registered hospital ships and it could be argued by disregarding international regulations they brought registered ships into jeopardy.

One of these ships, Wah Sui, came to Singapore. When fully laden with 450 passengers, mostly Australian and British wounded tended by six Australian Army nursing sisters, she sailed from Singapore on 12 February bound for Tandjong Priok in Java which could be covered in about three days steaming.

Prior to her sailing Japanese authorities had advised the local British command to move the Wah Sui further away from the main shipping channel as she was in danger of being accidentally bombed. After sailing she was buzzed by Japanese aircraft but unmolested. Later she was challenged and stopped by a Japanese cruiser who sent a boarding party to examine her. She was again allowed to proceed and safely made Tandjong Priok where her passengers were disembarked and hospitalised awaiting other opportunities to make their way home. In this instance the six Australian nurses were transferred to the troopship Orcades and reached Adelaide a few weeks later.

Buenos Aires Maru

Surprisingly we also know little of the sinking of the Japanese Hospital Ship Buenos Aires Maruin what might be regarded as Australian waters, off the Mandated Territory of New Guinea on 27 November 1943.

Buenos Aires Maru was a passenger-cargo ship similar to Montevideo Maru, both vessels requisitioned to help the Japanese war effort. Built in 1929 for the Osaka Shosen Kaisha (OSK) Line the Buenos Aires Maru was a 9,627 ton passenger-cargo ship, accommodating 1,200 passengers, and was mainly employed in the pre-war immigrant trade between Japan and South America. In November 1941 she was requisitioned as a troop ship plying between Japan, China, Korea and the Philippines. In October 1942 she was converted to a hospital ship and on 21 November 1942 the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs notified warring powers that Buenos Aires Maru is now a protected hospital ship.

Notwithstanding her new status, when in the South China Sea on 25 April 1943 this relatively large ship was damaged by torpedoes fired by the submarine USS Runner. The ship’s hull was slightly damaged and seven men were wounded. The ship was taken to Hong Kong for repairs.

On 17 August 1943 en route for Rabaul in New Britain she was attacked by an unknown American aircraft but escaped undamaged. The following day she arrived at Rabaul where she is described as being painted white with a green stripe around her hull, with large red crosses on either side of her hull and funnel. A black and white photograph exists from this time showing her hospital ship markings. She makes several more voyages between New Britain and the Philippines.

Bombing of Japanese sub-chaser by USAAF Liberator off New Ireland taken from an accompanying aircraft February 1944 USAAF

On 22 November 1943 she arrives at Rabaul where she embarks 1,129 sick and wounded servicemen, plus a small number of servicemen being repatriated to theirhomeland. In addition she carried 63 nursing staff and an unknown number of crew. The total number of passengers on board is estimated at about 1,300 personnel.

At about 0800 on 27 November when off the northern coast of New Guinea province of New Ireland the ship was subjected to low level bombing by an American Army Air Force B-24 Liberator. The raid was conducted in broad daylight in clear weather with the aircraft flying at low altitude. A bomb struck the port side of the ship, opening up the hull and flooding the engine room. The ship sank bow first about 50 minutes later. Remarkably in this relatively short space of time the survivors were taken off in lifeboats and two motor boats. The Liberator left the scene shortly after the sinking and is said to have strafed the area with machine gun fire, seemingly with little effect.

A small Japanese Navy submarine chaser squadron of three ships was based at Kavieng in northern New Ireland. Some days later one of these sub-chasers rescued about 1,000 survivors but 158 men and nurses were missing assumed killed in the bombing, sinking or dying later in the lifeboats.

This went unreported by Australian media who may well have been unaware of the incident. However the Australian War Memorial (AWM55 6/6) does have an unpublished interrogation report taken from a Japanese soldier (JA 147007) who was discovered in a life raft off the north coast of Bougainville and rescued by American soldiers on 16 December 1943. He had been aboard Buenos Aires Maru and was being transported back to Japan because of sickness. He was subsequently able to tell of conditions aboard the ship prior to, and during, her attack and evacuation.

Brigadier General Dr. Percy Carrol, the Command Surgeon, United States Army in the Southwest Pacific recommended an apology be made for this unfortunate mistake. However, General McArthur vetoed this recommendation and no apology was made.

In contrast Prime Minister John Curtin made a clear statement to the Australian Parliament in respect of the attack on Centaur which he said: …bore all the marks of wantonness and deliberations. The deed will shock the conscience of the whole civilized world. It will demonstrate to all who have any lingering doubts the unscrupulous and barbarous methods by which the Japanese conduct warfare.

A report of a subsequent United States Government investigation into the sinking of the Buenos Aires Maru was issued from Washington on 5 February 1944 through the Spanish Embassy, which was in charge of Japanese interests in Continental United States. It was stated that at the time of the bombing the identity of the hospital ship was not evident until after the attack was made. Regarding the alleged machine gunning of drifting lifeboats it was again stated that their identity was unknown. While the United States Government expresses its sincere regrets it emphasises the accidental nature of the attacks.

Summary

The Buenos Aires Maru tragedy underscores that such attacks are perpetuated by warring nations and alleged mistakes can be evenly divided by both sides in conflict. The story of Wah Suialso shows that the Japanese were conscious of international regulations regarding hospital ships and in this instance observed these to the letter.

Occasional Paper 14: LCDR Mackenzie Jesse Gregory

September 1, 2017

September 2017

LCDR Mackenzie Jesse Gregory RAN Ret, (9/02/1922- 27/08/2014) was to my mind a fine example of the qualities a Naval Officer needed to have. He could communicate well, was a leader of men, very resourceful, loyal, and above all a gentleman. I regarded him as a mentor and close friend.

Mac founded his website ‘Ahoy-Mac’s Web log’, http://ahoy.tk-jk.net, around 30 years ago, and he dedicated the site to all ‘Who went down to the sea in ships” in WWII, and especially to the 84 officers and men who died in HMAS Canberra at the Battle of Savo Island on August 9th 1942. This was a very significant date in Mac’s life! He was serving as a Sub Lieutenant in HMAS Canberra and was on the bridge when she was attacked. He has written his account of the Battle of Savo Island, which was initially published by our society as a Monograph. It is 75 years since the Battle and we feel it is most fitting for him to retell the story of those momentous events:

HMAS Canberra and the Battle of Savo Island

We are hit.

I called the Navigating Officer and the Gunnery Officer: the P.C.O. sighted three ships on our starboard bow and gave the alarm and the order to load the 8″ turrets. The Captain quickly arrived to be first to reach the bridge. I sighted torpedo tracks approaching down the starboard side-the Captain ordered full ahead and starboard 35 to quickly swing the ship to starboard. The Navigating Officer reached the bridge and told me he had the ‘Con’, thereby taking over from me. The Gunnery Officer had taken over from the P.C.O. and moved to the Port enemy bearing indicator. Further torpedo tracks crossed the bow. ahead, star shell were lighting up the scene and aircraft dropped flares to starboard. As I left the bridge, we again altered course.

I hurried to my action station in the fore control-there was an explosion amidships, we were hit on the 4″ gun dock, the Walrus aircraft was blazing fiercely on the catapult. A shell exploded on the port side just below the compass platform and another just aft of the fore control. The plotting office received a direct hit. The shell that demolished the port side of the compass platform mortally wounded the Captain, killed Lieutenant Commander Hole, the gunnery officer, wounded Lieutenant Commander Plunkett-Cole, the Torpedo Officer and severely wounded Midshipmen Bruce Loxton and Noel Sanderson. I had virtually been surrounded by shell hits but luckily remained unscathed. In the fore control standing beside me, Able Seaman Oliver was hit from the explosion just aft of our position-he was given morphine but was a very sick young man. The ship had now lost power and took on a noticeable list to starboard. For Canberra, the war was over. Only 2-3 minutes had elapsed since the ship went to action stations.

Chicago had about 16 feet of her bow blown off by another torpedo but she could still steam and the bulkheads held. she charged off to port but did not in fact fire her 8″armament-she fired star shell from her port and starboard 5″ guns in the direction of her perceived position of an enemy cruiser-none of these star shells functioned. Chicago did not apparently warn the northern cruiser force, but I will return later to this ship’ movements and actions.

Patterson had sighted the enemy and quickly broadcast on her T.B.S.” Warning, Warning, Strange Ships Entering Harbour”. You will recall earlier I indicated Canberra was not fitted with T.B.S. so that warning was not received by us. She had also signalled to using a small blinker tube. Patterson had opened fire, but an order to fire torpedoes was not heard, the noise of her guns firing swamped out this command given by her Captain. Patterson was illuminated by the Japanese, fired upon, and hit. However Patterson did get off star shell and 50 rounds of gunfire.

Bagley sighted the Japanese after Patterson and altered course to port so she could fire torpedoes. But she swung too far before the primers were inserted,

It took another 3 or more minutes to bring her starboard tubes to bear and 4 torpedoes were fired , but without any positive result. Bagley also proceeded to the west but Mikawa* had long gone.

After Mikawa* had decimated the Southern force, he swept on, split into 2 groups and opened fire on the Northern Cruisers at 0150 and 0200. Twice Chokai was hit, but not impeded. By 0240 the 2 Japanese groups were clear, they rejoined as one and made off for Rabaul and Kavieng at high speed. ( * Vice Admiral Gunichi Mikawa was in command of the IJN heavy cruisers. R W )

Quincy sank at 0235,Vincennes at 0250 and, finally the last of the Northern cruisers sank at 1215 on 9 August. Ralph Talbot was also damaged as the Japanese withdrew. Wilson was an escorting destroyer with the Northern force and her report after the battle is an amusing comment: ‘The times inthe above narrative are approximate, for the hands fell off the bridge clock on our first salvo and it was not realised that the Quarter master was not making exact time records of the occurrences until sometime later.”

Back to the Canberra

We were blazing amidships with 4″ ammunition exploding and we had developed a severe list to starboard. There was no power and no water pressure for fire fighting. The fore-control was abandoned and I went to assist with the wounded and dump ammunition. At one stage, I went below decks in the vicinity of the Sick Bay flat-it was a shambles below. There were no lights, I used a torch but the list made it difficult to proceed. Whilst I was below decks, the ship gave a shudder and suddenly took an even greater list to starboard. I feared Canberra was about to capsize, I would be trapped and that was the end of me. However the ship steadied and I scrambled back to the upper deck and survival. I tried to move to the stern but could not pass the fierce fires amidships.

My Embroidered Cap Badge and Bruce Loxton

Even in times of crises, one acts quite illogically. During my Sub Lieutenant’s courses in England, I had purchased a gold embroidered cap badge from “Gieves”, the famous Naval outfitters. The officer cap badges available in Australia were, at this stage, stamped out of metal. I prized my Special cap badge and on reaching my action station in the fore control, I had thrown my cap and badge into a corner to don my tin hat. I decided to try and retrieve my cap and badge. I made my way up to the starboard side of the bridge area and finally scrambled up to the fore control, alas, no cap or badge, just a large hole where I had discarded them – so much for foolish pride. On my way down, I came across two sailors with a body on a stretcher. They were lifting up this person to drain away the trapped blood. On investigation I made out Bruce Loxton, who was the Captain’s Midshipman on the bridge, had been severely wounded. Bruce had ghastly wounds and I did not believe he would survive. He was conscious and I said “How are you Bruce?” His response was “I will be all right ” and his fighting spirit pulled him through. He survived and continued as an Executive Officer in the RAN, to retire as a Commodore.

Patterson to the Rescue

At about 0330, Patterson came alongside our port side forward of the 4″Gun Dock. She provided pumps and hoses for fire fighting and proceeded to take on board wounded from the fore half of Canberra. Captain Getting was amongst those removed to Patterson. We were informed by Patterson that Rear Admiral Turner had indicated if Canberra could not steam by 0630, she would have to be abandoned and then sunk. At 0430, Patterson ordered all lights to be extinguished- she had sighted a hostile ship on her Port Quarter so she quickly slipped or cut all lines. I vividly recall her Captain’s reassuring words “don’t worry, we’ll be back.” As Patterson quickly got underway, the enemy ship opened fire. I still had my 1900 binoculars (from the fore control) around my neck. I quickly used them and recognised Chicago – she had mistaken Canberra for a burning Japanese cruiser. Patterson used her searchlight and exchanged fire with Chicago before their true identity was established. Both ships ceased fire. Another error in a night that may well be described as a comedy of errors – but then, we did not have much to laugh about. It commenced to rain to add to our discomfort. At about this time, the ship’s list suddenly increased and Lieutenant Commander Mesley ordered “stand by to abandon ship”, I discarded my boots but kept my binoculars. Canberra steadied and the final order to leave was not given-at that time. I put on my boots again.

Survivors Removed

As daylight broke over the area, Patterson, keeping her promise, returned and secured Starboard side Aft and proceeded to take on board the ship’s company gathered there. Blue secured to the port side Forward and took off the rest of Canberra’s crew, including myself; the time was about 0630. Blue transferred her load of survivors to the transport Fuller whilst Patterson transferred her survivors to Barnett.

Sinking of Canberra

I did not actually see Canberra sink, but Gill in his book “Royal Australian Navy 1942-45″reports that the US destroyer Selfridge, attempting to sink Canberra, fired some 263x 5” shells and 4 torpedoes. It was left to the USS Ellet to administer the coup de grace with one of her torpedoes and at 0800, our ship finally slipped beneath the waves: at last she was gone.

Post Script:

We end our transcription of Mac’s account of the Battle of Savo Island. It was taken directly from Mac’s website Ahoy-Mac’s Web Log. This is an excellent Historical resource and we suggest you check it out. Mac was a skillful orator who made history come alive for his audience. I have heard Mac’s account of the sinking of his beloved HMAS Canberra a number of times, but never tired of hearing it! I count myself privileged to have been his close friend and colleague.

by Rex Williams