1

War and the Merchant Seaman

Our brethren shield in danger’s hour

From rock and tempest, fire and foe.

William Whiting (1825–78)1

In the battle between the Austrian and Italian fleets off the island of Lissa (Vis), in the first fleet action between ironclad (as opposed to wooden) ships that took place on 20 July 1866, during the Third Italian War of Independence, 650 officers and men of the opposing fleets lost their lives. Most of those who perished drowned when their ships foundered. This heavy number of casualties – for those days – aroused the public conscience to the need for action to ameliorate the lot of mariners wounded and shipwrecked as a result of naval action, and led to the drawing up of rules for the employment of hospital ships. In 1868 these rules were embodied as Additional Articles to clarify some provisions of the Geneva Convention of 1864, extending the advantages of the Convention to naval forces:

the boats which, at their own risk and peril, during and after an engagement pick up the shipwrecked or wounded, or which, having picked them up, convey them on board a neutral or hospital ship, shall enjoy, until the accomplishment of their mission, the character of neutrality, so far as the circumstances of the engagement and the position of the ships engaged will permit. The appreciation of these circumstances is entrusted to the humanity of all the combatants.2

These principles were later included in the Hague Convention of 1907 for the Adaptation to Maritime Warfare of the Principles of the Geneva Convention, and remained in force during both World Wars, although they were not observed by Germany in either of them.3

The right of a belligerent to capture the merchant shipping of the enemy is well established in international law. At the same time, before applying force to capture a ship, he has a duty to call upon her to stop and submit to a visit. It is also the duty of the captor to take his prize into a port belonging either to his own country or to one of his allies. It is generally accepted that when circumstances make this course impossible of fulfilment, the prize may be destroyed; but – and this is the important point – ‘it is a rule of international law that all persons on board must be removed and placed in safety, and that all relevant ships’ papers must also be removed and preserved.’4

When, in 1917, Germany began unrestricted submarine warfare against British and Allied shipping, her leaders knew that it was contrary to the accepted principles of international law, because the small size of a submarine made it impossible for such a ship to put a prize crew on board a captured vessel; nor was it practicable for her to escort the prize into port, let alone provide accommodation for the passengers and crew, before sinking her. It should be noted that ships’ lifeboats were not considered places of safety unless within easy reach of the shore.

This new form of warfare in which ships were torpedoed and sunk without warning meant that the officers and men of the Merchant Navy were exposed to dangers similar to those which members of the armed forces were expected to face. But while naval officers and men were trained to fight at sea and to accept the risks inseparable from their calling, those in the mercantile marine were not; they represented a sea-going section of the civilian population. They also included in their number many who were too old or unfit for combatant duty and who could hardly be expected to face up to the perils of war in the same way as those in the services. Submarine warfare struck at an especially vulnerable part of Britain’s defences and it was directed against those least well equipped to withstand it. However, to their lasting credit, the personnel of the Merchant Navy at once showed that they were not to be intimidated in carrying out their vitally important work, while rightly expecting the government to give them as much protection as possible and to succour them in time of trouble.

A few months after the concept of sending ships in convoy was introduced in 1917, the Vice Admiral in Charge at Milford Haven recorded his view that ‘it was absolutely essential to have a small vessel of some description with each convoy to pick up survivors’, but there is no evidence that the Admiralty took action to comply with this suggestion. Most of the rescue work at that time was carried out by trawlers or other small craft which happened to be in the vicinity.

Twenty years later, when the British government reluctantly accepted the inevitability of another war with Germany, plans were made by the Admiralty to put shipping into convoy as soon as possible, but there was still, officially at any rate, a belief that the submarine threat would not be as serious as it had been during the First World War. This idea was partly based on misplaced faith in the efficacy of the ASDIC (Anti-Submarine Detection Investigation Committee) sonar system which had been developed by British, French and American scientists between the wars, on the knowledge that Germany did not possess many submarines, and the fact that she had agreed to abide by the Geneva Convention regarding their use – although there was some scepticism about whether the German leaders would adhere to it.

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Immediately after the outbreak of war in 1939 convoys began running across the North Atlantic to and from New York and Halifax, and also to Gibraltar and Sierra Leone in West Africa. Later these were extended to include tanker convoys to and from Aruba in the West Indies. One of the most well-travelled routes was across the North Atlantic. In July 1941 these transatlantic convoys were split into fast and slow sections in order to make better use of ships capable of speeds in excess of 10 knots. Thus there were always at least a dozen convoys at sea on any one day, sometimes as many as fifteen. And, from August 1941 until the end of the war, convoys were also sent to North Russia to the ports of Murmansk and Archangel. After the invasion of North Africa in 1942 convoys were run into the Mediterranean. Then there were the special convoys which were fought through to Malta, which otherwise would have been starved into surrender. The routes by which convoys sailed were constantly changed so that the German U-boats would have greater difficulty in finding them.

Following the Atlantic Convoy Conference in March 1943 (the United States having entered the war in December 1941) the North Atlantic was divided in two by a CHOP (Change of Operational Control) line 47 degrees west; to the east the British and Canadian Navies were responsible for the convoys sailing north of New York City; to the west the US Navy controlled the convoys in the mid-Atlantic and Caribbean (although the UK provided most of the escorts).

Each of the approximately 200 convoy routes was known by two or more letters, which usually (but not always) indicated the harbours of departure and destination. In the North Atlantic, ON denoted convoys travelling ‘Outward, Northbound’ from the UK to Halifax, Nova Scotia and New York; until April 1943 ships sailing between 9 and 13 knots were assigned to odd-numbered ‘fast’ convoys sometimes designated ON(F), while those sailing at 6–9 knots were assigned to even-numbered ‘slow’ convoys ON(S). In 1943 a new system was established, beginning with ONS 1 (i.e. slow) sailing on 4 April and continuing to ONS 51 sailing on 21 May 1945. All subsequent fast convoys were designated ON.

SC denoted eastbound convoys originating in Sydney, Nova Scotia; HX those originating in Halifax; UR meant from the UK to Reykjavik. In the South Atlantic and Indian Ocean, CD stood for Cape Town to Durban and in the Mediterranean GTX signified Gibraltar to Tripoli and Alexandria, while HG meant homeward from Gibraltar. OB convoys sailed from Liverpool, to be dispersed beyond Land’s End after dark to destinations in North and South America, the South Atlantic and beyond. The SL convoys, carrying goods bound for the UK from South America, Africa and the Indian Ocean, travelled independently to Sierra Leone and then sailed in convoy to the UK.

Throughout the war, the operation of a convoy followed an established practice. While the Admiralty assumed responsibility for the movements of merchant ships, whether sailing in convoy or independently, including what route they should follow and when they would sail, their operation, which included their ports of call, the loading and discharge of their cargoes, arrangements for bunkers, water and repairs, were all a matter for the Ministry of Shipping, which assumed responsibility for the Sea Transport Department under the Admiralty (until in May 1941, it merged with the Ministry of Transport to become the Ministry of War Transport). The equipment carried by merchant ships, apart from their armament and certain items pertaining to convoy which were supplied by the Admiralty, was a matter for the ships’ owners in conjunction with the ministry. This included lifeboats, rafts, life-jackets – in fact everything considered necessary for saving the lives of the crew should a ship be sunk.

The Commander-in-Chief, Western Approaches, allocated the ships required to escort the convoy. In charge of the merchant ships was a commodore, usually a retired admiral or a senior merchant navy captain, who would sail in one of the ships of the convoy. He manoeuvred the convoy as necessary to avoid submarines, but the protection of the convoy was in the hands of the escort commander and there had to be very close liaison between them. Sometimes, as in the case of the Russian (Arctic) convoys, battleships and cruisers were used to cover the convoys. For a time, when the German battlecruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were at large in the Atlantic, a battleship had to be sent with each convoy. Small escort carriers were also used with the convoys and later merchant ships fitted with flat decks – which became known as MacShips – were equipped with half a dozen Swordfish aircraft.

What contributed more than anything else to the defeat of the U-boats was aircraft. Until we closed the gap (it was literally known as ‘the Gap’) in the Atlantic, a region that could not be reached by the aircraft we then had operating from either side of the Atlantic, we could not get on top of them. The solution was to persuade the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, to agree that some of the long-range Liberator aircraft then being delivered to the RAF for bombing Germany, should be diverted for use in the Atlantic. It was a hard struggle to get his consent, but once he agreed things immediately began to look up.5

In order that the owners of convoyed vessels were kept informed of what was being done to protect their ships, there was a Shipping Defence Advisory Committee of which the Director of the Trade Division was chairman; the committee met once a month and was attended by the heads of all the big shipping companies. All the merchant ships were armed with various weaponry, so a section of the Trade Division was devoted exclusively to this. Known as DEMS (Defensive Equipment for Merchant Ships), they ran schools at various ports to train merchant seamen, RN, Marines and Army personnel, in the use of their weapons.

Down in the bombproof citadel of the Admiralty was a submarine tracking room (STR) where all information about German U-boats was plotted, which helped in selecting the best route for each convoy. Alongside the STR was a room with a big plot on which the tracks and movements of all convoys at sea were shown, as well as all ships sailing independently such as the two big ‘Queens’ (Mary and Elizabeth) and all ships with a speed in excess of 15 knots. This facility was manned night and day by members of the Trade Division staff.

At each port, at home and abroad, there was a Naval Control Service Officer with a small staff – it was his duty to see that all the ships were properly equipped and in possession of all the latest information. Before a convoy sailed, this officer would hold a conference with the masters of all the ships concerned, at which they met the commodore in charge of the convoy and the senior officer of the escort. At the conference they were handed the route in a sealed envelope and given the latest information about enemy submarines and aircraft. They were warned of the dangers of making smoke and of straggling, and told what to do should they lose touch with the convoy in bad weather. This meeting was an important factor in maintaining morale. In the case of a troop-carrying convoy, the ships were selected by the Director of Sea Transport (W. G. Hynard, succeeded by Sir Ralph Metcalfe in 1941) and instead of being handled by the Trade Division it was the responsibility of the Operations Division.

While the Admiralty was responsible for drawing up a schedule of convoys and arranging for escort vessels, it was also necessary to lay down the tactics to be employed in the convoys’ defence and to devise an organization for rescuing the crews of ships which were sunk. Unfortunately, neither of these two matters was given sufficient consideration prior to the outbreak of war. Besides the essentially humanitarian aspect of the second of these two duties, there was the need to maintain morale, which, as every successful leader acknowledges, is of the utmost importance in war. Ships can be replaced relatively quickly, but it takes many years to train experienced seamen and engineers, especially in view of the demands for similarly skilled men by the armed forces. Furthermore, it is unsound for the convoy’s escort vessels to be diverted from their primary task of counter-attacking the enemy in order to rescue survivors, notwithstanding the age-old and inborn tradition of the sea that requires a ship to stand by another in distress.

By the end of 1939, and after only three months of war, it was estimated that 237 merchant seamen had lost their lives as a result of enemy action and during the following year the casualty list lengthened rapidly. By the end of 1940 the number lost had risen to 3,148 and in 1941 the grim total of 8,848 was recorded. Concern grew not only for those officers and men who were losing their lives, but also for those who suffered permanent disability as a result of their experiences. The effect of exposure in the cold northern seas, if it did not lead to death, often caused a severe condition known as ‘immersion’ feet or hands, which frequently resulted in amputation.

Faced with a situation which clearly demanded action, the Admiralty tried the expedient of detailing the rear ships in a convoy to drop back and to endeavour to rescue the survivors from sinking ships. However, this proved a most unsatisfactory solution. More often than not the rescuing ship offered herself as an even easier target to the lurking U-boat. In the case of ships sailing independently, and which fell victim to prowling aircraft or U-boats, little could be done. Survivors from these lone vessels found themselves adrift on rafts or in boats, often hundreds of miles from the nearest land or struggling in the cold waters of the Atlantic, and later the Arctic, where death quickly claimed them.

As the war at sea intensified, Admiral Sir Martin Dunbar-Nasmith, the Commander-in-Chief, Plymouth/Western Approaches, responsible for the protection of the North-Western and South-Western Approaches to the British Isles (which included almost all the ships reaching the United Kingdom from overseas), came to the conclusion that the arrangements for rescuing merchant seamen were unsatisfactory.6 As he wrote in a message to the Admiralty dated 22 September 1940, firstly, ‘there have been several cases recently of convoy escorts following a very natural instinct and standing by torpedoed ships. At the same time it happens that the Rescue Ship detailed does not stand by the torpedoed ship.’

Secondly, he said, ‘if convoy escorts are to feel free to carry out their proper offensive role and the morale of the Merchant Navy is to be kept up, it is considered essential that there should be picking-up ships following astern of convoys and transferring from outward to inward convoys with the escort.’ Finally, he asked that the necessary ships ‘may be taken up and sent to convoy assembly ports.’ The reference to the ‘Rescue Ship’ was of course to the rear ship, or to a ship in the convoy detailed to act as such, and as already mentioned this had proved a most unsatisfactory solution to the problem of rescuing survivors.

The Commander-in-Chief’s message was passed to the Trade Division of the Admiralty naval staff for action, since it was specially charged with responsibility for the movements of merchant shipping, but the ‘taking up’ of the ships for Admiralty use had to be done through the Director of Sea Transport. In peacetime this was an embryo department attached to the board of trade but with the outbreak of war it had grown rapidly in size and importance. It acted as a go-between for the Ministry of Shipping on the one hand and the Service departments on the other, insofar as requisitioning merchant shipping for the use of the armed forces was concerned. With this responsibility went the supervision of alterations to the ships to fit them for the service they were required to do. The Director of Sea Transport therefore owed an allegiance to both parties and was obliged to steer a middle course between them, a task which, as can be imagined, was not always easy.

Thus, it was with both the Ministry of Shipping and the Director of Sea Transport that the Admiralty began discussions about the sort of ships required for rescue work with the convoys. Up to that time the Ministry had been very generous in meeting the Admiralty’s requirements, but the heavy losses being incurred and the growing demands of shipping for military purposes had brought a realization that we could not afford to waste a single ton on non-essential services.

The type of ship which appeared most suitable for rescue work was one small and handy enough to be easily manoeuvrable. She also needed a good turn of speed, since she must be able to overtake the convoy on completion of her rescue operations. Ships of this character were used in peacetime for coastal passenger-cargo traffic, but unfortunately not all of them were sufficiently strongly built to stand up to the conditions they might encounter in the Atlantic in winter. There were in fact grave doubts about whether any of these vessels would be up to the job, but the need was urgent and it was decided to make a start with a few ships and see how they fared.

‘We were most anxious to do all we could to assist merchant seamen and to maintain their morale & so to provide rescue ships,’ related Sir Gilmour Jenkins, who in 1941 was appointed Deputy Director General of the newly formed Ministry of War Transport, headed by Lord Leathers (an adviser to the Ministry of Shipping in the First World War and again at the beginning of the Second World War). But, Sir Gilmour added, ‘one of the main causes of the late start in fitting out & using the ships was the scepticism of the RN whether (a) they could stand the conditions & (b) whether they would be any use if they did.’7

On 4 November 1940 the Admiralty was able to inform the various departments – outlined above – which were concerned with the sailing of convoys that it was hoped that special vessels for use as rescue ships would shortly be available. Three weeks later it announced that four ships had been taken up and two more would be acquired in the near future. It had been decided, after discussion with the Ministry of Shipping, that the ships should be manned by Merchant Navy personnel, that each would carry a Royal Navy medical officer and one (or two) sick-berth attendants, and that it would fly a Blue Ensign defaced with a gold anchor in the fly, as worn by Fleet Auxiliaries. The ships would be based at Greenock on the Clyde, which at that time, was the principal assembly port for ocean convoys.

There was no previous experience to draw on to guide those charged with equipping the rescue ships for their objective – the rescue of the crews of merchant ships which had become the victims of submarine attack. It was also difficult to obtain priority for the work to be done on them, in view of the demands being made on shipyards for the construction of new ships and repair of those which had been damaged. The choice of such small vessels for rescue work with ocean convoys may not at first sight seem ideal. ‘To my mind it is incredible that those very small vessels, which normally ran round the coast, hardly ever out of sight of land, covered over two and a quarter million miles in the North Atlantic in all weathers,’ observed Lieutenant Commander Louis Martyn, who later became a pivotal figure in the organization of the Rescue Ship Service. He added: ‘Many of the ships were over 35 years old, most were coal burners only able to do twelve knots at best.’8

Most of the vessels taken up were of the combined poop, bridge and top-gallant forecastle type, with a forward well-deck and high bulwarks and cargo doors. Numerous modifications were necessary to fit the coaster for her ‘big ship’ job. For longer journeys bunker capacity had to be increased and accommodation for survivors provided. As recorded in the history of the Clyde Shipping Company – which was to supply seven ships for the Rescue Service – ‘cattle fittings in the alleyways gave place to double tiered bunks to sleep at least 150 survivors for whom mess rooms and cooking facilities, washrooms and lavatories, had to be provided.’9 In some of the later vessels the forward well-decks were decked in, giving a considerable increase in the space available for survivors. In others, the top halves of the cargo doors were removed to provide suitable rescue stations forward, while the forward ends of their bridges were plated over to form watertight bulkheads.

To make the ships ride easily in a seaway, they were carefully ballasted. The best type of ballast was found in road metal, since sand was liable to choke the bilges. To give them additional buoyancy the free spaces in the holds were filled with empty oil drums, and the hatches were secured so that, should the ship be holed, the drums would not float away. As might be expected, the endurance of these ships (i.e. the maximum time a vessel can operate without reprovisioning) was insufficient to allow them to cross the Atlantic. This problem was overcome by providing additional bunker stowage, usually by fitting a watertight door in the bulkhead between the existing bunkers and No. 2 hold. The lower section of the ‘tween decks could then be used as extra bunker space. In the event, the little ships proved themselves to be excellent sea-boats and successfully rode out some of the worst gales experienced in the Atlantic for over 30 years, often performing better than vessels four times their size.

Room also had to be found for an operating theatre, sick bay and stores. But in view of the urgent need to get the ships to sea, the alterations made to fit them for their new duties were kept to the minimum. Apart from the provision of a hospital, additional space for food and clothing and makeshift accommodation arrangements for survivors – initially just a mattress on the steel deck – little more was done to each ship in the first instance; but gradually, as experience was gained, improvements were made.

For the rescue of survivors, it was essential to provide each ship with a more serviceable lifeboat than the one normally carried, given that the function of a Rescue Ship was to launch and recover her own rescue boat and also to take on board men from lifeboats and rafts, or from the water itself, in circumstances more often than not of the greatest difficulty. The rescue lifeboat was secured in mechanically-operated davits situated whenever possible at the forward end of the boat deck, so that it could be lowered alongside the straight section of the ship amidships and not get under the counter when manoeuvring alongside. At first oars were used as a means of propulsion but later, when reliable engines became available, the lifeboats were power driven. If possible, two rescue lifeboats were fitted, one on each side, to avoid having to turn the ship in order to make a lee.

The masters of these ships, being used to close navigation, were able to manoeuvre their vessels alongside lifeboats and rafts, and even alongside men swimming in the water. The rescue of a boatload of survivors was generally a rapid evolution, whereas the collection of men from rafts which were unable to traverse the gap between them and the ship was usually a longer business. To approach a single man in the water close enough to be able to fish him alongside with a boathook required excellent judgement. It was important to take the way off the ship at just the right moment, so that they stopped alongside him, otherwise there was a danger of his being drawn into the wash of the propeller as the engines were put astern.

Being small, the ships’ movement was more in harmony with that of the lifeboats and rafts they were assisting than would have been the case with larger vessels. Their low freeboard too was a great advantage when it came to fishing survivors out of the water, since the most difficult part of a rescue is to get a man up the ship’s side when he is exhausted and weighed down by sodden clothing, which can increase his weight by as much as 300lbs.

Another point to be considered about these small ships was their speed, which in moderate weather, as mentioned, was generally of the order of 12 knots. Even so, this gave them a margin of only 2 knots above the speed of a fast convoy and 4 knots in the case of a slow one. Some excess of speed was essential, as obviously when she stopped to pick up survivors a ship would drop some way astern of the convoy. To be ready for any emergency a full head of steam had to be maintained at all times, which threw an extra load on the engineers. Had faster ships been available it would have been a great advantage; this was most noticeable latterly, when some 16-knot corvettes were taken over and converted into Rescue Ships.

Small Carley floats and float-nets which could be thrown overboard, to which men in the water could cling until they were rescued, were also provided.10 Also extremely useful were long bamboo poles, each fitted at one end with a three-pronged hook by which men in the water could be drawn to the side of the ship. Another worthwhile device was a small hinged platform fitted to the bulwark aft, which when dropped down reached almost to the waterline. This enabled a rescuer to pick up any man who had drifted past the forward station and was too weak to grasp the nets. Although each Rescue Ship was supplied with two 10-inch signalling projectors for illuminating the water when carrying out rescues at night, there was an understandable reluctance to use them unless absolutely necessary, owing to the danger of betraying their position to a lurking U-boat. There was less need to use the projectors when the red-light attachment for life-jackets, devised by the Ministry of War Transport, came into universal use in 1942.

Experience in HM ships had also shown that a net made of rope and hung over the side was of great assistance in getting men out of the water, so these were supplied. Later, as well as the scrambling nets, boom nets were added. A boom net was about 12ft wide and hung from a boom at the after end of the forward rescue station at the break of the bridge. During rescue operations booms were swung out at right angles to the ship, which proceeded at her slowest speed among the men in the water. The booms also proved extremely useful for stopping boats and rafts from drifting past, holding them alongside while exhausted men were taken on board. Usually only a few survivors were capable of climbing up the nets, others being too exhausted or numbed with cold to do so.

A great deal, therefore, devolved on the crews of the Rescue Ships, who were obliged to descend the nets and secure lines around the men in the water so that they could be hauled or hoisted on board. Special light davits, each with a snatch block at the head, were fitted at the rescue stations, into which the lines attached to the men could be passed. When the ship rolled those working on the nets were often submerged, but there was never any lack of volunteers for this arduous work, in which even the firemen off watch often joined. Considerable responsibility also fell on the naval surgeons and sick berth attendants. ‘Here again they did wonderful work launching the ship’s lifeboats to attend to any sick person in the whole convoy, irrespective of the weather. More often than not a very hazardous undertaking,’ recorded Martyn. ‘In addition, many of the rescued survivors would have died without the Surgeon Lieutenant’s immediate attention.’11

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Since the Rescue Ships made no claim to being hospital ships under the Geneva Convention, they were armed and painted grey without any distinguishing marks. They were therefore subject to attack like any other ship at sea, so it was decided to make use of their presence in convoys by fitting them with special high-frequency radio direction-finding sets (HF/DF – popularly known as ‘Huff-Duff’) to locate U-boats in the vicinity, which habitually used this form of radio for communicating with each other. To this end the main top masts of the ships were removed and longer masts with the HF/DF cage were fitted. Where necessary the funnels were shortened and all rigging was insulated. A bullet-and noise-proof cabin was built for the actual apparatus.

Four specially trained operators were required to maintain a 24-hour watch on the HF/DF sets, which meant the provision of additional accommodation on the Rescue Ship. As with all servicemen, their individual characteristics remained memorable. One of the first HF/ DF officers was Mr Whyte: ‘Turned down for the Navy on account of defective eyesight, he had taken part in the Dunkirk evacuation in one of the little ships,’ recorded Chief Radio Operator Horace Bell, who served with him in the Rescue Ship Copeland. ‘My one abiding memory of him – after the alarm bells had sounded he appeared in two of everything. Balaclava and uniform cap, a spare pair of spectacles on a string round his neck. Jersey and fleece-lined waistcoat, Mae West and regulation life jacket. Two whistles … Woollen gloves and leather mittens, Blucher boots completed the picture!’12

Since the HF/DF facility was not yet in general use in HM ships, the Rescue Ships played an increasingly important part in the battle against the German U-boats, a battle which was soon to reach a climax and become one of the bitterest struggles fought at sea. And although, as German historian Jürgen Rohwer emphasized, once a Rescue Ship had dropped behind to pick up survivors after a first attack, their HD/ DF equipment was less useful, there is no doubt, as the masters’ reports frequently revealed, that their monitoring ability was often paramount in giving early warnings of the presence of U-boats.13

Another personnel requirement was for DEMS gunners to man the guns. Each ship’s crew was also increased by nine men to allow for manning the rescue motor boat and assisting with the rescue work. Extra stewards and cooks were needed to cater for the survivors. By the time all the extras were added, including the medical officer and sick-bay attendants, the total complement of the crew had risen to about 70, compared with the 20 or so berths required for a coastal vessel in peacetime.

Initially, the function of a Rescue Ship and the facilities it was able to supply were not fully understood by the escort commanders, but later, when these had been widely promulgated, the competition between the escort vessels and the Rescue Ships to pick up survivors ceased, and the latter were left to get on with the job for which they were intended while the escort vessels properly concentrated on sinking the U-boats. It was also understood at the briefing conference that morale would be enhanced still further when it was known that a vessel from the newly formed Rescue Ship Fleet would accompany the convoy. So that all ships in the convoy would see a Rescue Ship was present, she flew a square green flag with a white diagonal bar when first making contact. The same flag was flown when the ship was engaged on rescue operations. ‘At the “briefing” at Greenock the Convoy Commodore always drew special attention to this flag,’ observed Sir John McNee.14

Each voyage brought fresh challenges. ‘After a rescue operation [the Rescue Ships] were often miles behind the convoy taking hours to catch up, with enemy submarines known to be in the vicinity,’ recalled Martyn. ‘Frequently they were attacked from the air and had to fight off planes, bringing down quite a number. All this in conditions of great hardship.’15 Furthermore, the crew of a returning Rescue Ship did not talk about the lives they had saved, but those they had failed to save. Perhaps a new set of conditions had been encountered for which the right equipment was lacking, so something was devised to fill the need and it would be tried out on the next voyage. When its usefulness had been proved, it would be adopted by the other ships. By the time the Rescue Ship Service had been in existence some two years, they carried equipment to meet all known requirements.

Another important part of the Rescue Ship organization which developed was the provision of emergency outfits of clothing for survivors, as well as toiletries, games and books. The Ministry of War Transport approached the British Sailors’ Society, and the latter immediately undertook responsibility for meeting this need without any assurance that it would receive special funds to cover it. However, the British War Relief Society of the United States of America, with great generosity, came to their aid and bore practically the entire cost of the articles supplied, a sum estimated at £22,100.16 A survivor’s kit comprised 12 articles – a jersey or cardigan, oilskin or raincoat, trousers, shoes, cap, vest, pants, belt, gloves, socks, scarf and a handkerchief. A total of 53,940 garments were purchased for survivors. Eighty libraries, each containing 30 books, and comprehensive sets of games, including 3,072 packs of cards, 42 dart boards, 2,016 darts, 126 draughts boards and even three footballs were supplied.

When, after a few months, it became possible to send the Rescue Ships across the Atlantic to Halifax, the Canadian Red Cross supplemented the work of the British Sailors’ Society by supplying additional medical equipment, especially operating tables of a type not readily obtainable in Britain. The tables were much more robust than those normally installed, so better suited to the exceedingly difficult conditions with which the medical officers had to contend in rough weather. The good work of these organizations must be remembered with gratitude by all those who benefited from them.

Especially notable was the hospitality extended to officers and men of the Merchant Navy by the Ajax Club, operated by the Inter-Allied Hospitality Fund in Halifax, Nova Scotia. ‘The venture of creating a naval club was something quite new without any past background to guarantee our sincerity of purpose,’ explained the club’s Chairman, Janet Evelyn McEuen, in one of the club’s bulletins. She continued:

The thousands of sailors who pass through our doors week in and week out, cannot fail to feel conscious of how much the people of Canada appreciate and honour them for the magnificent work, which they are doing for us all… the Inter-Allied Hospitality Fund has proved itself vital. Its object is to uphold the morale of the men, to bring warmth and joy into their lives, and help them forget, for a few hours at least, the grim realities of war. Alas, all too often a man reaches port only to learn that those nearest and dearest to him have been bombed, and their homes shattered.17

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The foregoing is a general picture of the manner in which the Rescue Ship Service came to be formed. Starting with six practically unaltered coastwise passenger ships, it grew into a highly proficient and smoothrunning organization which went on to make a valuable and important contribution to the victory at sea. The pity was that it took the hard and cruel experience of war to emphasize the need and cause the necessary steps to be taken to meet it.

Even in peace, scant quiet is at sea;

In war, each revolution of the screw,

Each breath of air that blows the colours free,

May be the last life movement known to you.18