Blitz Kids (37 page)

The captain realized they were being blown off course and had the deck crew try to take soundings. It was an impossible task. Though tied on, the crew felt they could not survive. Water was running over the decks, the power of the sea tearing off boards and hurling them towards the crew. Bernard found this more frightening than enemy bombers or submarines: ‘I was looking out at the front of the ship and the waves were like mountains. I was new to this. I’ve never been so frightened in my life. This was more frightening than a torpedo. All of a sudden there was a terrific bang as a wave hit us.’ It seemed they could not withstand much more: ‘All of a sudden she gave a lurch. We were carrying machinery for export. This shifted and the ship gave a 27-degree list.’ To Bernard it seemed like the next wave would surely sink her. Then a miracle happened: the storm began to subside. Listing dangerously, and hardly able to fire the boilers, the ship limped back to port.

After more than two years at sea, Christian Immelman finally experienced the one thing all wartime merchant seaman knew that fate had in store for them:

Back out on the boat deck, the smoke had cleared enough to let him see that his ship was listing heavily to port:

He watched as the submarine’s crew opened fire on the stricken tanker, its shells hitting the hull near the engine room. The
Darina
finally slid beneath the surface, stern first. And so the crew of the
Darina
were left in the open waters. Christian found himself in a boat under the command of the third mate, who took charge of rationing the supplies:

After six days in an open boat, salvation came in the form of a Norwegian ship, the
Dagrun
, heading from Cape Town to New York: ‘The Norwegians were a great crowd. They had to put up with us for twenty-eight days, they fed us mainly on ships bread and canned fish balls and there was always a big urn of good coffee to be had on the galley stove.’

In March 1942 Bernard Ashton and his seventeen-year-old friend Peter Pickett joined a tanker sailing for Texas. He was at the wheel as the ship zigzagged to avoid submarines: ‘Crash! A torpedo had hit us. All the glass on the bridge smashed. My life flashed before my eyes.’ The captain immediately arrived on the bridge, asking, ‘Everything all right?’ Bernard told him they were steady on course. The captain then called the engine room and told the ‘chief’ he was going to make a dash for it. As the captain gave the order ‘Full speed ahead’ the crew heard a shout, ‘Boat away!’ The starboard lifeboat had been lowered by the first mate. Although the mate had defied orders, Bernard was
convinced he was right: ‘We couldn’t have got away. The ship would have broken in two.’

Despite the dangers, it seemed to Bernard that the entire crew remained calm. The engines stopped and the ship went deadly silent. The only sound was that of the blocks as they launched the lifeboats. It took twenty minutes to get the boats ready, with the crew loading extra supplies, in excess of the emergency provisions already stored onboard. Then the peace was broken by another shout of ‘Boat away!’ Bernard watched as the chaps on the decks seemed unhurried: they didn’t rush to the boats. Instead they just walked along the deck. As the boats moved away, with Bernard safely onboard, he heard a dull thud as the bulkheads gave way and the tanker began to sink. Next came a bang and a puff of smoke and she slid beneath the surface. Since he was dressed in just soft boots, football shorts, and a vest, he was given a one-piece rubber survival suit to protect him against the cold of the night. As he sat in the lifeboat, Bernard listened to the captain’s hushed conversations. The fifteen-year-old cabin boy had been lowered into their boat with an injured ankle, caused by the explosion. The captain was talking about knives and was considering amputating the boy’s foot if they were not rescued before infection set in.

With the ship still 1,000 miles from the West Indies, it was decided that the three boats would separate but stick to a predetermined course. By their reckoning, if one boat was rescued, it would be able to estimate a position for the others. At first light after the sinking, the sails were raised and they began the long, slow journey towards the West Indies. Once again, Bernard was not unduly concerned. He took his turn on the tiller, was warm in his survival suit, and felt they were making good speed. He was confident in the captain’s ability to keep on course. Even when he spotted a ship which seemed to notice them, then turned away, he was not downhearted. The next day, an aeroplane appeared above, but did not approach.

Salvation came on the third day. They were spotted by an American merchant ship, the MV
Idaho
. Bernard was shocked as he climbed aboard: after just three days in a lifeboat, he felt weak and his legs were wobbling. The incredible sense of relief was heightened when he realized how good living conditions were on the
Idaho
: there were even water fountains on the walkways and he could get iced water in the
galley. Like most teenage boys, his first thought was, ‘I wonder what they’ve got to eat?’ The captain’s plan for separating the lifeboats had worked and within two hours they had picked up the others. The following evening, they landed in Puerto Rico.

Having survived a number of voyages without incident,
seventeen-year-old
Edward Ford found himself on a Dutch merchant ship, the
Alchiba
, when it was sunk by a Japanese submarine 600 miles off the coast of Mozambique. With two lifeboats destroyed, the survivors escaped in tightly packed boats. Their chances of survival were not great:

After four days, they were rescued by another Dutch ship, landed at Beira in Portuguese East Africa and sent by train to Cape Town.

One year later, Edward Ford was torpedoed for a second time, this time on the SS
Alderamin
, as part of a convoy homebound from New York. He was one of seventeen who were able to escape on a life raft, which was soon discovered to be leaking: ‘we drifted against an empty life raft which we managed to get hold of. The twelve of us that were able got on to the raft so we were able to sit with our legs out of the water, the five that were left in the boat were believed to be dead.’ The following morning they were taken onboard a rescue ship. As Edward later recalled, he doubted whether the twelve remaining men could have survived another hour on the raft. When they landed in Glasgow, Edward was given a rail warrant and a piece of paper reading ‘Mr Ford states that he is a British subject and is permitted to land in the UK’ to show to waiting immigration officers. The next time he returned to the shipping office the staff laughed and said they did not want to give him another ship since his last two had been sunk.

After four weeks in Puerto Rico and two weeks in New York, Bernard Ashton found work on a Dutch-registered ship. The captain
was due to sail to the Pacific and needed a crew since many of his Chinese crew had jumped ship in New York. Eager to get home by any route, he accepted a $35 advance on his wages and purchased new kit – jeans, overalls, oilskins, boots – ready to resume work. Sailing from Hoboken, New Jersey, the ship made its way south along the East Coast of the United States.

On 3 May 1942, they had reached Florida, as had a German submarine,
U-109
. Bernard was just about to come off watch: ‘I was in the galley. Bang! A torpedo hit beneath where I was. The stove lifted off the floor and I nearly shit myself. I opened the door, stepped out. By the time I got to the boat deck, they were all in the boats.’ Eager not to be left behind, he rushed for the lifeboats. However, he soon realized he was not alone:

The man he had rescued just minutes earlier returned the favour, pulling Bernard into the lifeboat.

As he sat in a lifeboat – for the second time in less than two months – Bernard Ashton looked back on his experiences at sea. He had been lucky: yes, it was his third time being sunk by enemy action, but it was only his first time in the water. He also thought of everything he had bought for himself in America: his new suit, his hats and shoes, which he had been looking forward to wearing to impress the girls back in England – they were all gone. At least he was fortunate to be just one mile from the shore. They rowed the lifeboats to the beach. As the
‘distressed seamen’ walked up the beach, they noticed local people – who had been disturbed by the sound of the explosions – filming them with cine cameras.

Whilst the Merchant Navy was best known for its efforts to transport goods and men around the world, its role went far deeper. The seamen also crewed hospital ships, ferrying wounded soldiers from land to sea, to be treated in floating hospitals. When the Allied armies landed in Sicily and Italy in 1943, the hospital ships provided a lifeline for wounded soldiers. Ex-
Vindicatrix
boy Bill Ellis served on HS (Hospital Ship)
Leinster
, ferrying the wounded by landing craft. His time on the
Leinster
exposed him to the full horrors of war:

He witnessed burns victims with huge blisters on their skin. He saw every imaginable injury: men with bullet wounds, amputees, men with crushed limbs. In time he grew used to the scenes and eventually went to watch the ship’s surgeons at work: ‘I saw him operate on a bloke who had shrapnel in his head – cutting it all out. When I first used to watch it was terrible but I got used to it.’ When another hospital ship, the
Newfoundland
, was damaged by German bombers whilst on its way to Italy, Bill was among the landing-craft crews sent to rescue the medical staff, including a group of American nurses.

Following the Anzio landings in early 1944, the
Leinster
again provided hospital facilities. However, as it waited off the coast, the ship became the target for enemy aircraft:

The
Leinster
was not the only hospital ship to be a target for the enemy bombers: