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THE CONVOYS CONTINUE

We loaded high-octane at Oranjestad, Aruba and later sailed independently for Halifax passing through the Mona Passage between Dominica and Puerto Rica. Daily we received radio messages from ships under attack by U-boats off the American coast, and scores of ships were sunk in that area before a convoy system was in use.

Hundreds of seamen lost their lives during this period which U-boat crews called their ‘happy times’ as there was so little opposition to their activities.

On receiving a distress call from a ship which had seen a U-boat, we diverted course and entered Hamilton, Bermuda for safety. Two days later we sailed in company of three other ships and were escorted by a U.S destroyer to Halifax.

From Halifax we sailed in a fast convoy and with little U-boat activity, but much heavy weather. We arrived in the Mersey on March 1^st, 1942 and discharged cargo at Stanlow.

SAN EMILIANO-Voyage 4. 3^rd march to 23^rd April, 1942.

We sailed from the Mersey to Londonderry and from there into an Atlantic convoy bound westward. A fairly uneventful voyage outward and homeward, with little U-boat attention to the convoys.

At Bayonne, N.J we loaded high-octane, and this cargo was discharged at Swansea. San Emiliano was carrying very hazardous cargoes but she was a happy ship with good crew, good food and friendly and sociable officers.

I had intended to make a fifth voyage in this ship after I had some home leave. During the four voyages I had not visited my home in Grays, as I had remained with the ship on the U.K west coast ports at the end of each voyage.

Now at Swansea the ship was to be dry--docked for three or four days, giving me time for a home visit for the first time in nearly eight months.

On asking the Chief Officer Mr Finch for a Railway Warrant he told me I must assist with the dry-docking on the next day.

He had tried to get local labour to do the job but there was none available.

With so much disruption to the railways from air bombing, a journey from Swansea to London was anything from twelve to twenty hours. This would mean I would only have one day and night at home, so I decided to leave the ship after putting her in dry-dock.

This decision probably saved my life because San Emiliano was torpedoed and sunk by U-155 off Trinidad a few weeks after I had left her. She was struck by two torpedoes and exploded into a huge fireball. From the crew of 50 there were only 7 survivors.

Chief Officer Finch was a survivor and was awarded the George Medal for his exceptional devotion to duty in this horrendous disaster. Captain Tozer was lost.

I lost many friends with her sinking being those I had sailed with on her previous voyages and had signed-on again for her final trip.

One of them was Donald Clarke, a Deck Apprentice, who was awarded the George Cross posthumously. Although his body was terribly burned he helped to row the lifeboat through the burning sea and taking men from the oily waters.

After a while he collapsed and later died, and Chief Officer Finch had to free his hands from the oar with scissors as his skin had fused with the oar.

After seeing Mr Finch, then Captain, in the TV series ’World At War’, I visited him in his Cotswold home in 1979.

Amongst local seamen who sailed the four voyages on San Emiliano were Pat Cousins and Mick and Ron Snashall, of Tilbury. All three of them decided to leave the ship with me after the dry-docking. Pat, Mick and myself were Able Seamen so we were involved with the dry-docking, but Ron was a steward and as he was offered promotion to 2^nd Steward he decided to make the 5^th voyage. He went home on leave as soon as the ship had berthed and managed two nights with family.

The last voyage of the San Emiliano took her to Trinidad where she loaded aviation spirit for Takoradi in West Africa. She then returned to Curacao. On arrival at Curacao Ron Snashall was taken off the ship and into hospital suffering malaria.

San Emiliano sailed with a full cargo of aviation spirit for Cape Town but two days later she was torpedoed and sunk, with much loss of life. The date of the loss was 9^th August, 1942.

After nearly three weeks in hospital, Ron was released and boarded San Fabian for his passage to the U.K. Two days after sailing from Curacao San Fabian was torpedoed and sunk by U-511. Twenty-six of the crew were lost-most of them died after swallowing oil while they were in the sea.

Ron survived this disaster by being fortunate in getting to a lifeboat before the ship sank. An American destroyer took them to Guantanamo, Cuba and after another spell in hospital Ron returned home to the U.K.

* * * * * * * * *

During the time I was sailing in SAN EMILIANO the Eagle Oil Company lost five tankers to enemy action. They were as follows:

SAN FLORENTINO - Sunk by U-107 on 31.1.42. 42 crew lost.

SAN DEMETRIO - Sunk by U-404 on 17.3.42. 48 crew lost.

This ship had survived the Jervis Bay convoy of 5.11.40.

SAN GERARDO- Sunk by U-17 on 31.3.42. 26 crew lost.

SAN DELFINO- Sunk by U-203 0n 10.4.42. 28 crew lost.

Eagle Oil Co. lost 16 tankers with seven heavily damaged during World War 2. Those above plus:-

SAN ALBERTO- Sunk by U-48 on 9.12.39

SAN CALISTO- Sunk by a mine off Clacton on 2.12.39.

SAN TIBURCIO- Sunk by a mine in Moray Firth on 4.5.40

SAN FERNANDO- Sunk by U-47 on 21.6.40

SAN CASIMIRO- Captured by GIVEISENAU on 15.3.41 and scuttled.

SAN CONRADO- Sunk by German aircraft in Pembroke on 1.4.41

SAN VICTORIO- Sunk by U-155 on 17.6.42 on her Maiden voyage. From a crew of 52 the DEMS gunner was the only survivor.

SAN FABIAN- Sunk by U-511 on 28.9.42. 26 crew were lost.

SAN ERNESTO- Torpedoed by Japanese submarine 1-37 on 16.6.43. Derelict she drifted 2000 miles to Pulva Nias Island.

SAN ALVARO- Sunk by u-510 on 23.2.44 off Aden.

If I had sailed on SAN EMILIANO on that fateful voyage I would no doubt have perished, but a torpedo had my name on it, as my next ship was torpedoed and sunk.

Local seamen who also sailed these voyages were Mick and Ron Snashall, Pat Cousins, Bill Bragg and Josh Ryan.

* * * * * * * * *

After paying off the SAN EMILIANO I had a few days leave and then attended a gunnery course given on HMS CHRYSANTHEMUM which was moored on the Thames in London. These courses for machine guns and small arms lasted five days and was followed by another three days instructions for 4-inch and 12 pound guns.

This second course took place at Sheerness, and when completed I received a Merchant Seaman’s gunnery certificate entitling me to 6d per day while I was signed on ships Articles.

During this period very few deep-sea ships came into London, and as I did not care to sail on coasters or colliers I would go to Liverpool or Glasgow where there was a choice of ships.

This time I went to Liverpool and found accommodation in the Angel Club in Dale Street. This was a hotel then being run by the Flying Angel Missions to Seamen.

I spent three days there and then signed on the VIKING STAR of Blue Star Line of London. The voyage was 21^st May 1942 to mid October 1942.

In convoy from the Mersey we later joined in with other ships from the Clyde and sailed around Northern Ireland and into the Atlantic, bound for Freetown, West Africa.

Apart from an unsuccessful attack on the ships by two Focke Wolf aircraft, the 16-day voyage was uneventful. We spent two days at anchor at Freetown, which was a large convoy port. We then sailed in a convoy which was dispersed twenty-four hours later with all ships sailing independently to their various destinations-ours being the Argentine.

TORPEDOED

With the VIKING STAR making only ten knots we had an uneventful 25 days voyage, seeing only one other ship-the large American sailing ship TANGO which was bound from Panama for Cape Town.

At Buenos Aires we discharged our general cargo which included four racehorses which were in wooden stalls stowe on the main deck.

While in Buenos Aires we had a serious fire in the ship’s paint store caused by saboteurs who were sympathetic to the German cause. Other Allied ships suffered sabotage also.

Many of the crew of the GRAF SPEE who had been interred in Uraguay for a time after scuttling their ship off Montevidao, were now living in Argentina. They had elected to live there rather than return home to Germany.

Another memory of Buenos Aires is that in conversation nwith the Padre of the Seamens Club and telling him I was from Grays, he told me he had recently conducted a burial service for a lad from Grays who had been killed when falling into a hold of the Rfoyal Mail Line’s NAGARA. The lad, Harry Barrell, was well known to me as being the son of the publican of the Theobalds Arms in Grays High Street,

The Padre gave me a photo of the grave to take home to his parents, but they never received it as it went down with my ship about four weeks later. I also lost a ring my parents gave me for my 21^st birthday and had presented to me before sailing.

With repairs completed, VIKING STAR loaded 6,000 tons of wheat and sailed for Montevideo at the end of July. At that port we loaded 1,000 tons of fertilisers and our destination was the UK. The wreck of the GRAF SPEE lay outside Montevideo.

Sailing from Montevideo our voyage was uneventful until the morning of 25^th August when a Sunderland flying boat circled the ship three times. In spite of trying to make contact with Aldis lamp we received no reply. Eventually the aircraft departed.

At 16:45 0n the same day we were in position 0600N, 1400W and about 200 miles SW of Freetown. Two torpedoes struck the ship on the port side amidships throwing a tremendous column of water into the air and over the Bridge.

The two lifeboats on the port side were demolished by the explosion, derricks were smashed and hatch covers were blown off the bunker hatch.

At the time I was in my cabin aft and the explosions caused the ship to shudder violently. All lights went out, so in total darkness and with much shouting we found our way to the companionway leading up to the deck. On running along the deck to the lifeboats we were showered by falling debris thrown into the air by the explosions.

No 1 lifeboat on the starboard side was damaged while being lowered, and filled with water as it met the sea. He occupants swam over to our No 3 boat as soon as we had launched it.

Only one boat from the four carried on the ship was sound, and by the time we rescued men from the sea there were 36 survivors in it.

Eight life rafts were also released from the ship. These rafts were constructed from timber boards and a dozen empty 40-gallon oil drums, but were the means of saving countless lives. Lockers were built into them for the storage of water and provisions.

The Captain with two other crew took to one of the rafts and soon drifted astern as the ship was still moving ahead although rapidly sinking.

On launching the one sound boat we began taking men from the sea until we could embark no more for fear of sinking. The boat was designed for 28 persons and we had 36 aboard.

We then assisted othe men in the sea to get onto drifting rafts-13 men in all. Other men were already on other rafts in the distance. Fie of the crew had been killed on the ship.

VILING STAR had by this time sunk to deck level, and as the last man climbed onto a raft another torpedo struck the ship, and this caused her to break her back. With bows and stern pointing to the sky, she sank in the shape of a huge V. From the first torpedo to her end was less than 15 minutes and indeed it was a very sad sight to behold.

A few minutes later the U-boat surfaced and on approaching us we were asked if any Officers were among us. To this we replied they were all lost with the ship. The Chief and Second Officer were in the lifeboat, and the Third Officer was on a raft, but none of them were wearing uniforms.

Among the crew of the U-boat in her conning tower was her Captain, a tall man with a red beard-now known to be Commander Ernst Kals. The U-boat was U-130.

Photos were taken of us in the boat and on the rafts and then the U-boat departed. Some hours later U-130 torpedoed and sank another British ship, the BEECHWOOD of John I Jacobs Co.

Soon we were surrounded by many sharks and barracudas who were after the sides of beef coming to the surface from our sunken ship.

We moored the boat to the two rafts and lay as such throughout the night. Occasionally we fired off a distress flare in the hopes of it being seen by a passing ship and our flares were replied to by flares from the Captain’s raft which was about five miles distant. After that first night they were never seen alive again.

At dawn we hoisted sail and attempted to tow the rafts but it proved futile. The boat, which was made of wooden construction was leaking badly and had only fourteen inches of freeboard - sides above water.

During the day a discussion was held with the men on the rafts and it was suggested that we sail to the coast and have help sent to them. We were asked to remain until the following day to which we readily agreed.

During the night the wind blew hard and caused a choppy sea, and water began slopping inboard. We removed it by some frantic bailing. Also the rafts were bumping together uncomfortably.

Next morning the question of separating was raised again and agreed on. So we passed over some extra stores, water and blankets.

I then witnessed a very heroic act by Able Seaman J. Daintith. He gave up his place in the lifeboat to DEMS Gunner Hancock from the water-logged raft, knowing he would have far less chance of survival - or none at all in the shark infested seas.

Hoisting sail, we departed and from then on the Bosun and myself steered the boat as we both had sailboat experience - mine being in Thames sailing barges from London river to East Coast and channel ports for four years and six months.

Torpedoed & Adrift

We had four hours on and four hours off at the tiller, while the other men were on a rota in bailing out water from the leaking boat. They used a bailer (large metal scoop), and empty condensed milk tins.

We steered by the sun and stars as we had no other means of navigation-our lifeboat compass had been stolen in Buenos Aires or Montevideo. We were constantly accompanied by sharks and barracudas which at times came too close for comfort. We also saw many manatees and large sting-rays.

All hands suffered severely from sunburn as little clothing was worn by any of us.

We were rationed to two pieces of chocolate in the morning with 2 oz of water. At midday we had two biscuits with pemmican and another 2 oz of water. In the evening we had chocolate and malted milk tablets.

With so many men in the boat and with little space, some had their legs across the legs of others, and to add to our discomfort during the hours of darkness it was very cold.

Some hours after leaving the rafts a dispute began among the men bailing out water, and in an attempt to settle the problem the Bosun was struck in an eye with the metal bailer, causing a serious injury. So I remained at the tiller for the following thirty hours. For this I later received a commendation from Chief Officer McQuisto.

The row was caused by two or three of the men avoiding their turn on the rota in bailing out. and it seems incredible that such a thing could occur when we were fighting for survival against the sea and in the vicinity of so many sharks. But such was the apathy of some of those men.

Late one evening we realised we were nearing the land as there was a different motion to the sea. The long steep rollers had become short, choppy waves which frequently slopped over the sides of the boat and caused some frantic bailing out.

Soon we were in big breakers, so we lowered the sail and attempted to turn the boat seaward with the oars. But our efforts were to no avail and in minutes the boat was overwhelmed by the seas and capsized-throwing everybody into the seething surf.

There then followed a desperate struggle for survival, but survive we did. The time was about 0400 hrs on the 29^th August, 1942.

Struggling from the surf and reaching the beach safely, we found it to be very cold so we began to salvage the mast and sail with the intention of erecting a shelter against the biting wind.

On completing this job we spotted a native who ran away when we called to him-but he soon returned with many others. Among them was a young native girl who told us she was a Missionary and had been trained in Freetown. She informed us we were in Sierra Leone, close to the Liberian border.

We were very fortunate in having had a following wind from the south-west while sailing the boat, as we could not have sailed against the wind under the prevailing conditions. We would therefore have had many more days adrift unless we had been seen by a passing ship.

The Missionary explained to her people who we were and then took us to a nearby village where we were given food and later entered mud huts to sleep for a while.

A few hours later we left the village and walked through the jungle in single file and escorted by the natives until we reached another village. Here we stayed overnight in mud huts and the following day we walked to yet another village, again escorted by the natives who walked on either side of us clearing the way of snakes and wild animals, of which we saw many.

From this village a native went to Bouthe to report to the District Commissioner who lived there. Later we travelled across swamps in canoes to two launches which had been sent to rescue us.

We were then taken many miles down a river to Bouthe (now called Sherbro), and on arrival here we were accommodated with British and Swiss traders who resided there.

These traders exchanged clothing, knives, tobacco and trinkets with the natives for animal hides, horns and snake skins. Also groundnuts were produced here and stored in a large shed. These were later loaded into a small ship which called on occasion and took the cargo to Freetown.

A radio message was sent to Freetown, and two days later an MTB arrived and took us all to Freetown where we entered hospital suffering with malaria and other tropical diseases.

At the time Freetown was a large convoy port and Naval base, and an ex-Union Castle liner was moored there and in use as an accommodation ship. This was the Edinburgh Castle.

Also based there and in use as a RN repair ship was PHILOCTETES of Blue Funnel Line, and CITY OF TOKYO of Ellerman Lines.

On arrival at Freetown we had been informed that telegrams had been sent to our next-of-kin. Ship missing with crew presumed dead was the VIKING¬STAR which had been due in Freetown on the day after her sinking. It was now about ten days later.

After a few days in hospital some of us were released and accommodated in a native school, which had been taken over for this purpose. More than a hundred other survivors from sunken ships were already accommodated there, and each man had a cot bed protected by mosquito netting. We were also fitted out with new clothing and shoes.

Two days in the school and we then boarded the Orient Line's troopship OTRANTO which had arrived from Cape Town. She later sailed independently for the UK.

Already aboard OTRANTO were survivors from TUSCAN STAR which had been torpedoed and sunk on 6^th September by U-109. OTRANTO had sighted their lifeboat and rescued them on the day after the sinking. Two other lifeboats with survivors sailed into the coast of Liberia.

The day we sailed from Freetown in OTRANTO we were told that the survivors who had been on the rafts had made landfall in Liberia, some 40 miles beyond our landing place.

They had abandoned one raft and using a blanket as a sail had made the land in twelve days. Unfortunately a DEMS gunner lost his life when the raft was capsized in heavy surf.

At the time of this sinking I was an Able Seaman and my monthly pay was £22.12.6d. Of this, £10.12.6d was paid by the ship owner and £12 per month was war bonus or war risk money which was paid by the Government.

From the day a ship was lost, all wages for the crew ceased, as in my case, and was only paid again on my arrival in the UK when I reported myself as being alive to Tilbury Shipping Office.

My pay from Blue Star Line was backdated to the day of the sinking, and paid until my arrival at Liverpool. The next-of-kin of seamen who lost their lives received no payments.

From that day in 1942 I have met only one other survivor from the VIKING STAR. He was Cliff Maw, the Deck Boy on his first voyage. We sailed together in the tanker DOLABELLA and saw three months service on the beach heads during the Normandy operations.

I was in correspondence with Captain Rigiani for a number of years. He was 3^rd Officer of the ship and was in charge of the rafts. He was Master of a Blue Star liner in 1967 when he heard I was working as a rigger in Tilbury Docks and he contacted me by letter through my office.

In later years he became Shore Superintendent of Blue Star Line in Liverpool. On retirement he went to live in Chicago. Sadly he passed away in 1994.

An account of the loss of the VIKING STAR is in a book by Taffrail called 'Blue Star at War. . . .to be continued.