The Canadian Star has already been
mentioned in this narrative on the occasion when, in July, 1941under the
command of Captain C. Jones, she fought a spirited engagement with a
U-boat on surface at night and escaped after being several times hit. By
March, 1943, Captain Jones had been relieved by Captain Robert David
Miller, t Mr. P H. Hunt was still in the ship as Chief Officer and Mr.
E.G. Buckwell as Chief Engineer.
On March 8th, carrying 22 passengers and
a crew of 69, with a refrigerated and general cargo of about 8,000 tons,
the Canadian Star sailed from New York for the United
Kingdom as one of a convoy of 42 ships. For the first four days,
steaming north-eastward, they had fine weather. Reaching a position off
the Newfoundland Banks, the convoy turned northward, and on March 12th
swung eastward for the passage home. The weather had started to
deteriorate, and he forecasts indicated a heavy blow from the
north-westward.
By the morning of March 16th,
the convoy was almost in mid-Atlantic, nearing that fatal gap some 600
miles east of Greenland where it was difficult for aircraft to operate from either side of the
ocean and where the U-boats were still hunting in packs. The highest
surface speed of the submarines was 18 knots, faster than most of the
escorts. Shadowing the convoys at extreme range during daylight, they
closed in at dusk. Flooded down with little more than their conning-
towers showing they were extremely difficult to spot, particularly as
their attacks usually came from the side of the darkest horizon. If
necessary they could always dive but creeping up slowly astern or one of
the escorts to avoid being discovered by their wash, U-boats would fire
their bow torpedoes at selected ships in the convoy and then turn to
escape at full speed. If unmolested, torpedo-tubes would be reloaded and
another attack made the same night. Convoys might be dogged and attacked
at over periods of three and four days on end.
During daylight on the 16th
U-boats were in contact with the convoy of which the Canadian Star
formed a part. The first attacks came when two ships were torpedoed at
about 10.0 pm. At 3.0 am, on the 17th more ships were
torpedoed, and the convoy made the usual emergency turn away, but the
submarines were present in a thick concentration, for at 9.30 am- two
more ships were hit in quick succession, the first sinking in less than
two minutes and the other settling fast as she fell astern and
disappeared from the view of those in the Canadian Star.
How many ships of that convoy were actually torpedoed on March 16th
– 17th I have no means of knowing. In the official
Admiralty return of British merchant vessels lost during the war,
however, I note that eight British ships—exclusive of any Allied
vessels, which the return does not include listed as having been sunk in
this relatively small area on March 17th .To those in charge
of the convoy, no less than to those who were responsible for the
organization, this loss was sufficiently perturbing.
The convoy escorts, meanwhile, were
counter-attacking by all the means in their power, though here again the
Escort Commanders were in their usual predicament. The U-boats were
obviously present in force. Was it the duty of the escort vessels to
concentrate their efforts on protecting the ships of the convoy that
remained; to stand by and rescue the lives from the ships in distress
and sinking; or to go all out on a counter-offensive against the
U-boats?
It would be presumptuous for anyone not
actually on the spot and knowing all the circumstances to venture any
opinion as to what ought to be done by the escorts at any given moment.
But this much can be said. Because of the heavy strain on our resources
in many widely-scattered areas, there were insufficient escort vessels
to do all three jobs at once.
To add to their difficulties and
perplexities, the weather was steadily becoming worse. By the evening of
the 17th it was blowing a roaring gale from the north-west,
with a high, tumbling, steep sea and heavy swell with occasional heavy
squalls of sleet and hail. The Canadian Star was a ship of
more than 8,000 gross tons. Steaming at the revolutions for 10 knots she
was making good no more than between six and seven. If this was the case
in a big ship, the conditions in the much smaller destroyers and
corvettes must have been indescribable.
The convoy steamed on, and at 2.38 p.m. on March 18th the ship ahead of the Canadian Star
was suddenly torpedoed on the port side. Alarm bells were rung, and Mr.
Keyworth, the Third Officer, who was on watch, shouted “Hard ‘a
starboard! Everyone off the port side of the deck! “. At much the same
moment the periscope of a U-boat was sighted about 100 feet away on the
port beam. The ship started to swing to starboard; but it was too late
to do any more. Almost immediately the ship was hit simultaneously by
two torpedoes on the port side, one in the engine-room and the other in
Number 5 hold.
The engines stopped at once, one torpedo
actually striking one of the cylinders of the main engines. Two boats,
which were swung out, were blown into fragments. The hatches were
blasted off Number 5 hold and the ship was partially wrecked amidships,
half the chartroom being demolished and blown upwards on to the “monkey
island’ overhead. The ship settled rapidly by the stem, and the after
deck was soon awash with the great seas breaking and surging over it.
Orders were given to abandon ship. There was nothing else to be done.
Mr. Hunt, the Chief Officer, took charge
of the passengers and crew, and as Captain Miller did not survive, here
it seems the appropriate place to quote what Hunt afterwards said of
him:
‘‘I should like to mention the calm
gallantry of Captain D, R, Miller, who did everything possible for the
safety and welfare of his passengers and crew. His only concern was to
see that everyone abandoned ship successfully, without the slightest
consideration for his own safety He was an exceptionally fine seaman,
and his quiet, cool behaviour set a magnificent example to all.”
The stricken Canadian Star
was sinking fast. The signal of distress had already been sent off by
wireless, Mr. Hunt directed passengers and crew to the starboard side of
the boat- deck, where Numbers 1 and 3 lifeboats were, turned out and
ready for lowering. While Number 3 was being lowered with people in it,
the after fall unfortunately took charge and the boat descended with a
run. Hung by the bows three passengers were tipped out and lost. It was
eventually lowered 12 people in it, but capsized in the raging sea.
After this sad mishap Mr. Hunt, to quote
his own report:
“Went once again to the after deck to
make, sure the ship was sinking before launching Number One boat as I
considered the chances of a safe launching to be small. I found the
after deck under water, with port life rafts smashed away by the high
seas. Number One boat was then launched with as many people as the
davits would support, and orders were given by the Captain to I and
launch he starboard rafts. All four starboard life rafts were
successfully launched and saved many lives, while Number Three boat was
successfully righted and manned with the Third Officer in charge.’’
All the survivors were clear of the ship
by 2.55, Captain Miller having last been seen on the boat deck. The ship
finally sank stern first at 3.10, her bows rearing up and remaining
vertical for nearly five minutes before they plunged under.
There were 26 people in Number 1 boat. It
was numbingly cold, and everyone, particularly those on the rafts,
suffered terribly from exposure. As Hunt writes:
“Practically the whole crew were
accommodated in the two boats and the rafts, and the large loss of life
was due to the weather. Number One boat picked up all they could from
the water until it was crowded. Number Three boat capsized twice and
many were lost there. The rafts that were properly manned stood up to
the weather, while the ones with few people in them were capsized by the
top of the waves, causing loss of life.”
Within two hours all the visible living
survivors were picked up by the corvettes
H.M.S.
Anemone and
Pennywort.
Rolling, pitching and plunging dizzily these two little ships went about
the work of rescue. It required the greatest nicety of judgment and good
seamanship. One of the corvettes went alongside the waterlogged Number 3
boat, Kenworth’s, in which only five or six people remained, all the
others having been washed away. As a result of their experiences one of
the lady passengers, and Mr. E. G. Buckwell, the Canadian Star’s
Chief Engineer, died soon after being rescued. Nothing more could be
done. After rescuing all the survivors they could find the Anemone
and Pennywort steamed on at their best speed to rejoin
the, convoy ahead. By this time it was dark. They encountered U-boats on
the way, running in to attack with guns and depth-charges. More attacks
were made on the convoy during the night of March 18th
though so far as my records show no further ships were sunk. For the
last part of the voyage the sorely-tried escorts were reinforced by two
American destroyers from Iceland, while further east they had the
additional protection of aircraft.
Mr. Hunt was on board the Anemone,
which carried in all 154 survivors from various ships. How they fared in
vile weather in the limited accommodation of a small corvette we are not
told; but at 2.30 p.m. on March 22nd they were landed at
Gourock with thankfulness in their hearts. Of the total of 91 people in
the Canadian Star 32 had perished.
The experiences of this convoy and of the
Canadian Star were by no means exceptional. They were
typical of what was happening all over the North Atlantic at this
particular period of the U-boat war, a struggle in which the seamen of
the Royal and the Merchant Navies, working together, were pitting their
strength, their resource and, above all, their courage, against the
craftiest and most deadly of opponents. It was a fight which knew no
mercy or quarter, a struggle which that past-master of the apt phrase,
Mr. Winston Churchill, described as a war of groping and drowning, of
ambuscade and stratagem, of science and seamanship.”
It is pleasing to know that in the
official London Gazette of August 31st, 1943, the gallant
Captain Robert David Miller of the Canadian Star, was
posthumously commended. (This the equivalent of “mentioned in
despatches” is the only recognition, apart from the Victoria Cross or
the George Cross, that can be awarded to a dead person for gallantry in
death).
In the same Gazette, Mr. Percival Herbert
Hunt and Mr. Reginald Herbert Keyworth and Chief and Third Officers were
both awarded the M.B.E. After describing how the Canadian Star was
torpedoed and sunk, the citation continues:
“On abandonment the Third Officer took
charge one of the boats, and, under his direction was twice righted
after it had best, capsized by the heavy seas. Eventually six survivors
in this boat were picked up and saved. But for Mr. Keyworth’s courage,
determination and seamanship these lives would probably have been lost.
The Chief Officer set an outstanding
example by his courage and coolness. He assisted in getting away the
boats in the space of time available and by his organization and
efficiency, ensured the safety of many lives.”