John Frayn Turner - Fight for the Sea: Naval Adventures from the Second World War

ALSO BY JOHN FRAYN TURNER
AND AVAILABLE FROM PEN & SWORD BOOKS:

Heroic Flights
VCs of the Second World War
The Life & Selected Works of Rupert Brooke
Awards of the George Cross 1940-2009
The Bader Wing
Service Most Silent
Periscope Patrol
Douglas Bader: The Biography
The Battle of Britain
The WAAF at War
Invasion 1944*

*Available April 2014

First published in the United States of America in 2001
by Naval Institute Press

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
PEN & SWORD MARITIME
An imprint of
Pen & Sword Books Ltd
47 Church Street
Barnsley
South Yorkshire
S70 2AS

Copyright John Frayn Turner, 2001, 2013

ISBN: 978 1 78159 268 7
PDF ISBN: 978 1 47382 937 4
EPUB ISBN: 978 1 47382 851 3
PRC ISBN: 978 1 47382 894 0

The right of John Frayn Turner to be identified as Author
of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library

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In fondest memory of my brother,
Lieutenant Commander Philip Turner, RNVR

Contents

Acknowledgments

I have tried to tell this story in human as well as historical terms. In many cases, I have talked to the menand womeninvolved in the epic events. Where this was not possible, I have gone back to sources contemporary with the original actions. Prominent among these, I would like to acknowledge and thank the U.S. Department of the Army for access to the files of Yank Magazine, and to the U.S. Navy Department for background material. On the British side, I must express my real gratitude to Her Majestys Stationery Office for accounts of many actions in World War II; to the Ministry of Defence for official information; and to the Public Record Office for access to the hitherto unpublished rescue ships material.

More specifically, I am glad to give credit to Associated Newspapers, London, for allowing me to quote from my feature published in Weekend Magazine, which forms the basis for the first chapter. I would like to thank the following for their past help: Cdr. J.G.D. Ouvry, DSO, RN; Capt. G. B. Stanning, DSO, RN; Cdr. Geoffrey Tanner, RN; Johnnie Ferguson; D. J. Lawrence; C.E.T. Warren and James Benson, authors of Above Us the Waves (London: Harrap, 1954); R. C. Benetz, author of Battle Stations Submerged (U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings [Jan. 1948]); and Theodore Roscoe, author of U.S. Destroyer Operations in World War IP (U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings [1953]); and thanks to my meticulous editor, Therese Boyd.

I have also referred to material in several of my own books: Service Most Silent (London: Harrap, 1955); V.C.s of the Royal Navy (London: Harrap, 1956); Periscope Patrol (London: Harrap, 1958) Invasion 44 (London: Harrap, 1960), A Girl Called Johnnie (London: Harrap, 1963); and lastly, Battle Stations (New York: Putnam, 1960).

SepremberDecember 1939

I Went Down with the Royal Oak

It was 13 October 1939only forty days after the outbreak of war. The 29,000-ton battleship Royal Oak lay safe in Scapa Flow, off the north of Scotland. No enemy had ever penetrated these defenses in the whole of World War Iand there seemed no reason why it should be any different in World War II. But before the night was out, a German U-boat, U-47, got into Scapa Flow, sank the Royal Oak in fourteen fathoms, and escaped. The number of crew lost totaled 833. Sick-berth Attendant Reg Bendell told me how he went down with the Royal Oakand survived.

We had got back to base after a ten-day patrol in the Atlantic and we were all pretty fagged out. I decided to turn in early. I was nearly twenty years old and Royal Oak was my first ship. I had signed on as a sick-berth attendant because it was a clean, comfortable job with a cot instead of a hammock. I was also ships photographer. Wed been paid that day and had drawn all our back pay With my savings I had 120 pounds in my wallet, tucked in the inside pocket of my jacket. All was quiet, so although I was on duty call, I climbed into my cot soon after 2,100 with the intention of getting a good nights sleep.

I didnt.

Four hours later someone shook me. Whats the matter? I grunted. Wake up, Lofty, Ive got a cut knee. I was 6 feet 3 inches tall, hence the nickname. I treated it with some plaster and asked him, How did you get it? He replied, I was blown out of my hammock by the explosion. What explosion? Didnt you hear it? Dont be wet, I burst out. Im going to turn in again.

I had just dozed off when I was blown out of my cot by the second explosion. The first bang had been at 0104. Now it was 0116. I was half knocked out and came to in darkness on the deck of the sickbay. The deck had already taken a list of 10 degrees. No doubt this timeId heard a hell of a bang.

Petty Officer Harry Main shone a torch at me. Anyone in there? he asked urgently and then saw me. Come on quickthe ships going.

I followed the stabbing beam out of the sickbay. Then I remembered my money. Wait a tick, will you? I must get my wallet. I groped back into the sickbay and found my serge jacket, put it on, and checked that the wallet was there. Our plan was to get up. The only way was via the ladder outside the sickbay that led to the focsle. The ladder was tilted but we got to the top. Then we heaved at the hatch, our only escape route upwards, but it would not budge an inch. The list had caused it to stick solid.

We went down again and had to crawl along the deck, clawing aft in the direction of the quarterdeck. It was like climbing up the roof of a house toward the chimneyhand over hand and it was getting steeper. Then ahead of us we saw a big ball of orange flamea sheet of fire. Men were being burned by cordite, as the explosive spurted up through the safety ventsonly they were not safe. The fires spread along the starboard side, and the boys messdeck blew up. The whole ghastly scene stopped us. That and the third explosion. Another torpedo had torn into the ship.

No good going aft nowlets try the POs mess. Main said.

This lay across the port side of the ship and he knew it well. As the ship rolled to a 45-degree starboard list, we struggled, slipping, all the way up to the POs mess. We had lost the torch by then. What with the darkness and everything tipped to a crazy angle we lost each other. Main got out of one of the portholes in the mess, but I floundered about badly. It all had to be by feel now, and I was on my own. No one else was going to save me.