大象传媒

The following story by Terence Robertson is out of copyright and appears courtesy of and with thanks to Mike Kemble, and Captain Frederic John Walker.

Steibler, a bluff; hearty officer of thirty-six, had only recently brought U-504 back from North America where he had carried out a special mission for Army Headquarters in Berlin. An Army officer and three civilian wireless specialists had been taken to about fifty miles off the coast of Maine. There they had set up secret radio equipment in the wireless room and locked themselves in. Members of the crew were banned from the room during the operation, but Steibler had known they were using a map of the United States on which all radio stations were marked in red. He could only assume the experts were trying to discover something about these stations.鈥� (These were actually radar and cypher experts attempting to establish the positions of U.S. Coastal and radar stations in preparation for possible commando raids from a U-boat striking force). After lying surfaced for nearly three days, the specialists had completed whatever they were doing and he had headed for home. On the way, he found a lifeboat filled with survivors from the British merchantman, Teesbank, which had been torpedoed by U-505. He ordered provisions to be passed across and took the merchant skipper, Captain Lorrain, back to Germany as a prisoner. Nearer France, U-461 had met the survivors of another British ship, the SS Saint Margaret, torpedoed the night before by U-588. He took prisoner her captain, Mr. DMS Davis, of Liverpool, and had more provisions handed down into the lifeboat. Among the survivors were a Polish woman and her daughter and an Englishwoman. Captain Davis called out for someone to tell his wife in Liverpool what had happened, and Steibler set off at full speed on the surface for Bordeaux and the end of an eventful trip. On the morning of the 3 the three U-boats were making their way westwards on the surface across the Bay when a Sunderland flew out of cloud and began circling them. The Germans were not too worried, being capable of a concentrated combined fire almost guaranteed to scare off the most determined pilot. But in the next hour two more aircraft, a Halifax bomber and a United States Liberator, joined the Sunderland and the U-boats could expect a three-cornered attack at any moment. Steibler was sailing in the centre of the line abreast in formation with Vowe in U-462 to starboard and Luis in U-504 to port. The three aircraft roared down to the attack. The first three attempts to dive-bomb were beaten off with a vicious crossfire from the three boats. While they were turning to form up in line ahead, the Liberator came down to bomb U-504, now in the lead. With the guns of all three concentrating on this threat, the Sunderland came up astern and dropped a depth charge neatly alongside U-461. It exploded directly underneath her, blowing her vast bulk upwards almost clear of the water. A great hole was torn in her bottom and, as she came down to the surface, the ocean poured into her and she sank in seconds.
Only Steibler and fourteen of his crew of sixty survived. (By a curious coincidence the identification number of the Sunderland which sank U-461 was also U-461, it was aircraft 鈥淯鈥� of 461 Squadron.) The Sunderland鈥檚 successful attack, the pilot鈥檚 first engagement with a U-boat, was made possible only by the Liberator鈥檚 deliberately diving low to draw the full weight of the enemy fire away from her. It was a gallant gesture and, though badly shot up, 0-53 of the United States Army Air Force limped across the Bay and reached Portugal where the pilot made a lucky crash-landing. The crew escaped injury and were later returned to the United Kingdom by the Portuguese authorities. When the range closed to six miles the second Support Group, with Kite slightly in the lead and Walker waving his cap and grinning to the next ship in line, opened fire with their for鈥檃rd guns. The battle now became a strictly naval occasion and the aircraft withdrew to watch the Group race into action, guns roaring, engines pulsating and bow waves high as they drove through the choppy seas. A Royal Air Force officer wrote later: 鈥淚t was a grand sight, those five ships in line abreast cutting along at full speed in a blue-white sea under a deep blue sky. The guns roared and the smell of cordite hung over the ocean and guns crews cheered as shells dropped near the twisting targets.鈥� On the conning tower of U-462 Vowe, an elderly officer promoted from the lower deck, was feeling anxious. His boat had been hit by three shells, badly holed and two of his officers were suffering from wounds caused by shell and splinters. There seemed little likelihood of making a surface escape with five ships on his heels. As the next barrage screamed overhead, he ordered scuttling charges to be set. The shells were dropping close again. There was a stunning explosion on the foredeck as two hits exploded in quick succession. To stay aboard any longer would be suicide. Vowe shouted his next order: 鈥淎bandon ship.鈥� Within a few minutes the crew were swimming in the water and, as the scuttling charges went off the stricken U-boat shuddered under the impact of more direct hits. Then she caved inwards and sank. On the bridge of Kite, a signalman read a message being flashed from the Halifax bomber. 鈥淐ongratulations. U-boat no more.鈥� With both 鈥渕ilch cows鈥� sunk, there remained the operational escort, U-504. A worried witness of the fate which had overcome his two brothers-in-arms, Kapitanleutnant Luis had not waited for the gunfire barrage of the Group to be turned on him. He dived and went deep in the hope of escaping under cover of the confusion caused by survivors and wreckage on the surface. He reckoned without Captain Walker who, guessing his intentions, formed the Group in circles patrolling round the spreading oil, wreckage and survivors. In less than five minutes, Kite gained asdic contact and Walker ordered an immediate attack. It took him a few minutes to reach this decision; the point of attack would be less than half a mile from where the shouting survivors were swimming in clusters. Later he wrote in his Report: 鈥淲hen I ordered Kite into attack no one could foretell what effect it would have on the members of the Aryan bathing party who were but a short distance astern with the whites of their eyes clearly visible. It was a fateful moment although there was no question of a sword hanging over their heads; rather was their fate to be decided much lower down.鈥� Contact with the U-boat was lost and regained intermittently until 11.30 a.m. when Walker withdrew the Group to take stock of the situation. There was no doubt that the U-boat had gone deep after the first attack. It was now necessary, in his view, to 鈥済et down to the job seriously鈥�. Placing Kite in position as the directing ship, he lined up the Group for a series of creeping attacks alternated with three- ship barrage assaults. Woodpecker crept in silently to drop twenty-two depth charges at maximum settings. Wild Goose followed. It was enough. Oil and wreckage plummeted to the surface, including planks of wood, a mass of sodden clothing, a side of bacon and a human lung. 鈥淭he bacon had been well cured,鈥� wrote Walker grimly, 鈥渂ut the lung was very new.鈥� With U-504 and the hopeful Kapitanleutnant Luis destroyed, the Group returned to the bunches of survivors who were distributed between Kite, Wren and Woodpecker. That evening they sighted a yellow sail and Walker ordered Woodpecker to pick up the occupants of the raft. These were found to be the crew of a Focke-Wulf which, they said, had been shot down by a Beaufighter on July 29th. However, Woodpecker鈥檚 doctor reported that two of the wounded survivors had received their injuries not later than the 27th. This caused some puzzlement among the Group as no one could imagine why the Germans should bother to lie about a harmless date. By the 30th the Group had reached 鈥淯-boat Alley鈥�, the direct route across the Bay between the Atlantic and Bordeaux and begun sweeping towards the French coast. At 9 am on August 1st, another eventful day for the Second Support Group opened with the report of an aircraft that she was circling a U-boat riding fast on the surface towards open sea only forty miles away. For two hours they crashed along at full speed through rough seas and a short heavy swell with no further report from the aircraft.
A Catalina then came in sight to give the position of a U-boat on the surface which was almost certainly that reported earlier. This aircraft proved an attentive and efficient guide. He had dropped a smoke float on the spot where the U-boat had dived and proceeded to con the Group to the marker. Walker commenced his sweep steering westwards in the belief that the U-boat would continue on her passage to the Atlantic and, shortly after 2 pm, his look-outs sighted a Sunderland bombing a target ten miles ahead. The Group raced forward and were closing the U-boat rapidly when the Sunderland made another attack. To the horror of the watching sailors, the aircraft failed to pull out of her dive and crashed headlong into the sea. There came a deafening roar as her remaining bombs exploded. It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived. When the Group raced up, they found six RAF men safe in a makeshift raft while, further away, crouched the terrified crew of the destroyed U-boat. The crews of all five ships cheered in spontaneous admiration for an aircraft which had pressed home its attack in the face of such a hot barrage from the enemy that both pilots had been killed, but not before their bombs had gone on their way to kill the U-boat. This was U-454 commanded by Kapitanleutnant Backlander, a man who struck the officers of Kite as being that rare breed, a pleasant type of non-political German. Only twelve others of his crew of forty-five survived. Wren was detached to pick up the RAF crew who were using a wing of their broken aircraft as a raft. On August 2nd, the day began with reports that a force of enemy Narvik-class destroyers had sailed from the French ports to clear the Bay of the Second Support Group. This caused Walker to order the Group into line-ahead formation and steer at full speed for the French coast to engage the enemy. As this class of destroyers were virtually young cruisers, some in the Group thought that their Leader was taking a bite at something a little too big this time. The vast majority, however, were sublimely confident. Guns were cleared for action in an atmosphere of cheerful anticipation of a new and bigger kill. The Group hunted for the German force for two days without success and were eventually ordered to return to Plymouth, where they arrived on the 6th. At the flagstaff in front of Admiralty House, the C-in-C鈥檚 residence, flew the signal: 鈥淲ell done again, Second Support Group.鈥�
Walker, who had fired depth charges when men were in the water nearby, had killed more Germans than any other officer in the Western Approaches Command, felt keenly that the Spanish fishermen operating in the 鈥淢usketry鈥� area were unaware that they invited instant death by their fishing in prohibited waters. As soon as Kite had been tied up alongside, he made his way ashore and reported to the Commander-in-Chief鈥檚 staff: 鈥淚 feel it should be widely promulgated that these Spaniards are a harmless, ignorant and cheerful lot, utterly pro-British. It is unlikely that the order to attack on sight in 鈥楳usketry鈥� could ever be carried out by a British naval officer who was aware of this.鈥� As a result, the Admiralty amended its shoot-to-kill order for the blockade, instructing instead that Spanish fishermen should receive the sort of treatment given them by the Second Support Group, evacuation from their ships, which should then be sunk, and sent back to Spain in a refugee trawler kept afloat for the purpose. To Walker鈥檚 joy, Starling had completed her refit, carried out trials and was ready for duty. Handing Kite to her commanding officer, he transferred back to his old quarters in Starling. On arrival in harbour, he telephoned Eilleen to join him in Plymouth where she arrived in time to see the German prisoners marched into captivity. They had a week-end together before Johnnie sailed again leaving his wife to stay for a short holiday with some friends in Somerset before returning to Liverpool. While there she received her first warning that something had happened to Timmy. A letter was forwarded to her from a friend of her son鈥檚. It offered condolences on his death. Deeply shocked, Eilleen wrote to Captain (D), Liverpool, asking if he could find out if the submarine Parthian were all right. Several days of anxious, agonising hopes punctuated by moments of depression followed until eventually she cut her holiday short and returned to Liverpool. At home there was a message asking her to telephone Captain (D) and intuitively she realised that the letter-writer had known the truth. On calling Captain (D)鈥檚 office she learned that Parthian was overdue and presumed lost from an operation in the Mediterranean. It was thought at Derby House that the Group would return to Liverpool the following week. Eilleen requested that her husband should not be told the news while at sea. Meanwhile the Group, which had sailed on the 9th, was now engaged in a battle with the Luftwaffe.

Continued.....
'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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