´óÏó´«Ã½

My father, Herbert Geoffrey Hall - Geoff Hall — was born in Macclesfield, Cheshire, in 1911, and died in retirement in North Wales in 2002, aged 90. During the Second World War he served in the Merchant Navy. He kept a diary of his experiences from which he later prepared accounts of some of the more memorable and important of these. This is Part Two of his account of his time with the Russian Convoy PQ16.

Val Myers (nee Hall)

RUSSIAN CONVOY PQ 16 (PART TWO)

As we could not anchor - all our winches and the windlass were wrecked by the bomb - we were taken to the fish quay, a spot known as 'Hell fire corner'.
Elderly Russian workmen came on board, measured up our winches and in a couple of days returned with the most complex set of patches, clips and bolsters that made some winches workable and thus permitted the slow discharge of cargo to begin and continue 24 hours a day. The weather remained good and this meant that Jerry returned about 5 times a day, with Stukas mostly, which managed to evade the Russian fighters and the ground defences. The sound of the whistling descent of bombs became all too familiar.
We just escaped being hit again, the nearest bomb blew the quay alongside us to smithereens thus preventing the shore crane handling our cargo. Everything in Murmansk was made of timber. A gang of old men came down with loads of planks and baulks and in 12 hours the crane was running along the jetty again.
We were not allowed to draw any money here. The official rate of exchange was 20 roubles to £1 but as one could sell 20 cigarettes for 30 roubles, one could easily finance a visit to the Arctic Hotel where one could obtain a reasonable meal if one could get in, it being closed to Russians but very popular with crews of foreign ships.
Having discharged our cargo we were moved across the harbour and anchored in line with two sunken vessels. Perhaps they thought we were derelict too because, though raids continued 7 or 8 times per day, we got nothing nearer than about half a mile. The weather was mostly fine and we cursed it heartily as it meant the raids continued day and night, as there was no darkness.
On 18th June there was a change of tactics. This time the raid was mainly of incendiary devices and as there was a brisk wind, and everything made of timber, one end of the town was soon a mass of flames. It was said later that some 5000 people were made homeless.
About the end of June we learned that our convoy PQ16 was due to leave for home and our Commodore and his staff, who had been living aboard, departed, leaving us to await some repairs, and in a day or so the Russians started work to make us seaworthy. They worked slowly and intermittently and on the 28th June we were treated to an attack by 7 Stukas all on our own. Near misses all around resulted in damage to crockery and other fragile objects, and also to the bursting of a lot of tinned food in our diminishing stores. So we moved about 7 miles downstream.
Whilst anchored we had continued with the many repairs in the engine room and elsewhere. In particular I kept two of the wireless operators busy repairing the 92 DG circuits which had been severed by the bomb. This entailed identifying each run of cable and then inserting a piece about 14 ft long where the bomb had removed a piece of that size. Fortunately there had been in the hold a drum of heavy cable which had been damaged but from which we could obtain suitable lengths, not identical but near enough and I was pleased to find on completion, that the system carried the prescribed current and fulfilled its function.
Repairs completed we eventually got orders to go to Archangel, but, of course, at the last minute these were cancelled whilst 2 other ships left on time. Another week hanging about when one tea time the Mate came in and said to the Captain "There's two Russian chaps here who can't speak a word of English but I gather they have brought you two live reindeer". At which the Old Man looked horror-struck. It later appeared that Admiral R H Bevan, in charge of the Kola Inlet, was being relieved and we were to convey him to Archangel - if not home, - and these were a present for him.
After much messing about we arrived at a quay in Archangel where we were to load timber. This went on for days being entirely done by women. Each afternoon about 4.00 pm the local school mistress brought her 14 and 15 year olds down to the quay and these girls loaded timber till 8.00 pm. By this time our food stocks had long run out. Two consignments of stores had been sent for us on PQ17 but both had been lost so we were living on black bread, ship's biscuits and odd bits of reindeer. We even went ashore and collected quantities of blueberries - of which there was a limited supply - and made jam as we did have some sugar. Lifeboat biscuits appear to be made of a striated rock. The secret is to soak them overnight in a bucket of water, get the oven literally red hot, and insert the soaked biscuit. The instantaneous generation of steam causes the biscuit to rise like a Yorkshire pudding and the puffy mass covered with sweet blueberry jam is quite palatable.
Mail was almost non-existent but one day, quite unexpectedly, some arrived. Not altogether comforting as it appeared that our safe arrival had not been confirmed, and as the ´óÏó´«Ã½ had been howling about our convoy it was only natural that folks at home were somewhat worried.
In due course we learned that the Admiral was to leave us and fly home by Catalina. Lucky man! A splendid man who, in spite of a very different background made himself at home amongst us and did much to enliven a very boring stay in that godforsaken place. The next move was to a quay near the town where we were to load 1000 tons of wood pulp for paper making. This was put into Nos 1 and 5 holds.
My diary comments - The organisation here is really appalling. The Russians seem to take hours to start doing something and then they work very slowly. True, they work night and day but they really are a nation of plodders. The gangs here seem to consist of old men and young girls as, of course, menfolk of military age are elsewhere.
About now we learned some interesting facts relating to our convoy.

Air attacks at sea 17
Longest raid 9 hours
Most planes in 1 day 108
Total planes involved about 250

It is alleged that our escort disposed of 5 submarines. We were 9 weeks in Murmansk, during which time we had 142 air alarms, most of which were real raids with bombs dropped.
On 24th August we had our first air raid in Archangel, mostly an incendiary raid in darkness. Fortunately there was little wind so damage was limited. Time went on and our food supply became ever more desperate. We seemed to be cursed with the worst cook it has ever been my lot to sail with. When we had food he spoiled it so that lots was thrown away. We just had to eat what we could get. The sailors and firemen now went on strike until the food, particularly the bread, improved. Lack of yeast was the problem as no attempt had been made to grow fresh yeast before our existing stock was exhausted. Eventually we obtained some black bread from ashore. Not much to our liking but better then nothing. Jam making from blueberries continued and it was much appreciated as it was the only pleasant confection we had.
On the Thursday a lot of officials and soldiers arrived on board. Every member of the crew was mustered in the saloon - including the firemen and greaser on duty below. We were then told that our rooms and accommodation were to be searched. As a result of what was found, some vodka and a few roubles, we were told we must never set foot in Russia again, an order with which we were most happy to comply.
Next day we learned we were to take some 15 women and 11 children - wives of Russian officials - with us to Britain and a further 5 people turned up later in the day. We finally packed 31 people into space intended for 20.
Just after our passengers arrived the Mate came along and said "What do you know about midwifery?" I said, "Not much, why?" at which he explained that one of the ladies was obviously very pregnant. She had been scheduled to travel with us in early June but the passage of time had no effect on Russian officialdom and she was still on our list.
After receiving a few more stores we got orders to sail at 5.00 am on Sunday 13th September. Well - it wasn't Friday 13th. We sailed and managed to get through the narrow part of the channel in darkness but, of course, one ship - a yank - lost her steering and ran aground so we all had to anchor until she was refloated.
To our surprise the next couple of days were uneventful and in the evening the Mate said "Heard about the baby?" Me: "What? When?" "This morning at 8.30 - it's sleeping in a suitcase and will be called Oceania in our honour."
A prowling Junkers spotted us next day and we expected trouble but just as we got the air raid warning we ran into a snowstorm and they probably couldn't find us. We were now told we were to pick up the escort of PQ18 but we had to slow as one of our ships was having engine room trouble. We were not free from trouble ourselves as the movement of the ship caused the leakages in the engine room and stokehold to increase to the point where the pumps were handling all they could. At the same time the water sloshing about was picking up all sorts of rubbish, which led to continuous cleaning of strum boxes.
Thursday morning we felt better as the escort was truly with us, and what an escort! When completed we had some 19 Destroyers, 1 Cruiser, 1 small aircraft carrier, 4 minelayers, 3 ack-ack ships, 4 Corvettes, 2 trawlers, 2 submarines and 3 fleet oilers. All this for 17 merchant ships. From the escort we learned that PQ18 had had a rough time, losing no fewer than 12 ships out of 41.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.