Mason Alfred Grossmith - Arctic warriors : a personal account of convoy PQ18

The editing of my fathers experiences took me, as I hope it will take the readers, into new territories. It has been a great pleasure and privilege to write about the bravery of the men of the Merchant Navy, Royal Navy and American Merchant Navy who battled the enemy, as well as the horrific Arctic weather conditions, to aid our Russian allies. To them a heartfelt thank you.

I owe a particular debt to Bill Quigley who has been an inspiration throughout. Thanks also to Robert Eke who served aboard HMS Milne and provided some of the photographs taken in 1942 during PQ18.

I am grateful to Brigadier Henry Wilson and his team at Pen and Sword Publishing for their superb guidance and encouragement and to my husband, Roy, for his help, patience, computer skills and support.

Julie Grossmith Deltrice

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
P E N & S W O R D M A R I T I M E
An imprint of
Pen & Sword Books Ltd
47 Church Street
Barnsley
South Yorkshire
S70 2AS

Copyright Alfred Grossmith Mason and Julie Grossmith Deltrice 2013

HARDBACK ISBN: 978-1-78303-037-8
PDF ISBN: 978-1-47383-121-6
EPUB ISBN: 978-1-47383-005-9
PRC ISBN: 978-1-47383-063-9

The right of Alfred Grossmith Mason and Julie Grossmith Deltrice to be
identified as Author and Editor of this work has been asserted by them in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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Contents

The Sea

How many moods rolled into one

You lie there glistening in the sun

All calm, serene, like mirrored pool

Sparkling like the rarest jewel

The wind blows, you stir and rise

Swirling foam neath leaden skies

Rolling back you gather speed

Rising up, great strength you need

To pound at last on rocky shore

A splashing, foaming, boiling roar

Retreat again to rise once more

Like green glass towers from ocean floor

Shimmering bright with crystal spray

In shrouds of mist you face the day

Veiled in mystery dark and deep

Your heart pounds on, you never sleep

Every wakeful, deep you lie

Yet in your anger the furrows fly

Spitting foam, white splashing spray

Spires of diamond droplets stay

In the air when your furys past

Calm once more like mirrored glass

Washing round small feet at play

Paddling, prancing, laughter gay

Friendly now you lap the shore

Quiet and at peace once more

That howling wind soon starts to blow

And once again your wrath youll show

Your Titan strength will rise again

Your very depths it will inflame

And you are in command once more

Breakers crash on rocky shore

Your cauldrons seething, boiling spume

Incited into pillared plume

Once again white horses rise

Galloping frenzied with the tide

Theyll tire soon and sink to sleep

Your fury wanes back to the deep

So slumber now you changing sea

Sleep on in dark deep mystery

Chapter 1

From Somewhere in England to Somewhere Unknown

The carefree hot summer of 1939 seems a lifetime away as I gaze over the bustling scene before me. It is August, yet the same dark cloud that has settled over Europe during the last three years seems now to have manifested itself, chilling the air as well as the hearts of those who stand with me on the quayside looking up at the towering shape of the SS Empire Baffin.

This merchantman, which over the next few months is to be our refuge or, heaven forbid, our casket, now sits motionless in the swirling ebb of the Tyne as if cemented to the very river-bed. Strong and purpose-built for carrying heavy cargo, the Baffin is one of the many Empire ships that ply the dangerous seaways around our shores, providing our besieged country with precious supplies from our friends across the Atlantic, and sustaining our troops and allies abroad with the provisions and raw materials of war.

Flush decked, with a total length of 465ft, she can carry some 9,800 tons of cargo at a speed of eleven knots.

As I board her I realize that she is no destroyer, but I notice with relief that she is not entirely defenceless either. Tarpaulin-covered guns mounted at various points on the deck reassure me further. After going through all the formalities that come with being assigned to a new ship and stowing my belongings safely in my cabin, I can now take a closer look around her decks and inspect the guns which will be my responsibility over the coming weeks. My tour convinced me that she is indeed quite well armed for a merchant vessel these days. A 4in antisubmarine gun is mounted on the poop (to be manned by a naval reservist), and a 40mm Bofors QF on the poop deckhouse (which, Im told, will be manned by a sergeant from the Maritime Anti-Aircraft Regiment) are both surmounted by a pillar-box rocket launcher so called because of its resemblance to a GPO post box. This is a fearsome weapon firing twelve 2in rockets (six per side) each with an explosive warhead. The operator, sitting inside the box to protect himself from the blast, can aim the missiles through 365 degrees at an angle of between 0 and 75 degrees. Check rails on both the Bofors and the rocket launcher are added safeguards, so that at no time can any part of our ship be struck by their projectiles, even in the event of some over enthusiastic gun layer getting too excited in the heat of the action. Our 4in gun on the aft poop deck also has stops fitted to the base for the same reason, so that it cannot be trained forward of the beam.

Making a round of the focsle head I am confronted by the twelve-pounder. This large gun is housed on its own specially built platform over the windlass. Returning amidships, I climb the ladder to the wheelhouse and take further comfort from the fact that here there are four 20mm Oerlikons which are mounted singly, one on each wing of the navigation bridge and one on each side of the boat deck. In the aft corners and at the rear ends of the bridge are housed two troughs of 2in rockets (twenty-four per side). These can be elevated, trained and fired from a central control point on the monkey island. Finally, as I come abreast of the fore and main masts, I see the two pairs of Lewis guns, which will be manned at battle stations by our ordinary crew members whose only gun training to date, consists of a brief description of the weapons that they will be expected to use.