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In September along with HMS Goatland we sailed on route to the Bay of Biscay to attack a German convoy of 2 merchant ships and 15 escorts of various sizes and arms capacity. The target was the two merchantmen who were carrying uranium from South America and other special supplies destined for what was then regarded as Germany’s secret weapon, but which eventually became the ultimate weapon for the Allies — the Atom bomb. At the same time as we sailed the Royal Air Force were attacking the heavy water plants in Norway which would also supply material for the bomb. Our job was to sink the two merchant ships, even if it meant ramming them in a suicide attack.

The night time silhouettes of the Albrighton and Goathland were very similar to that of the German light destroyers which is why we were chosen, because it meant we could get close without too much suspicion. We picked up the convoy off Brest on the northern coast of France and sailed with them for an hour, our skipper manoeuvring us to within 800 yards of one of the merchant ships. Goathland did the same, and then at 01.17am on April 29th the skipper ordered the battle ensign hoisted and we fired numbers 1 and 4 torpedoes. Asdic reported both torpedoes running, followed by a loud explosion and a flash of flame from the enemy ship. Our fighting lights at the masthead were switched on and off signalling our main guns to fire and we slammed 3 broadsides at point blank range into the stricken ship which burst into flames before sinking stern first. The sky was lit up by the flames and Albrighton and Goathland now found themselves the targets for the German escort vessels. For the next hour and a half a running battle ensued. Before we managed to escape into the vast reaches of the Atlantic damage parties had to put out fires in the forward mess deck and ‘A’ turret was out of commission stuck in the ‘starboard 15’ position with only one gun capable of being fired. We had a large hole in the starboard side and desk beside ‘A’ turret, the port oerlikon gun was completely out of action and we had holes in the bridge area, the funnel and the captain’s cabin, but only minor damage aft of the midship torpedo tubes.

Just before dawn the following day we were nearing the English Channel steaming at only 10-12 knots because of damage when all able bodied hands and walking wounded were piped back to Action Stations. I resumed my position at the Rangefinder in the Director of the bridge, but the office alongside me was a replacement for the Gunnery Officer who had been killed in a hit which had also left me wounded. As dawn came up we did a 360° sweep, showing nothing on the sea or in the air towards the horizon, then at 06.21am bridge radar reported ‘aircraft port 20’ coming towards us. We slung the Director around and I picked up the aircraft on the rangefinder. You could almost taste the tension as everyone waited for me to identify the plane as hostile or friendly.

‘Director Bridge’, I reported, ‘Aircraft is a 4-engined Flying Boat Sir.’ The officer beside me let out a long and heartfelt sigh of relief. As the plane flew closer she circled flashing a message from the cockpit window which read: ‘Well done lads. You’re on the news!’ Capt. Hanson then ordered the wireless room to relay the ´óÏó´«Ã½ 7 o’clock news on the ship’s tannoy. The report was short and sweet.

‘0700, this is the ´óÏó´«Ã½ news. Two British destroyers, HMS Albrighton and HMS Goathland successfully attacked a 17 ship German convoy last night in the Bay of Biscay sinking 2 merchant ships, 3 escorts and leaving 2 other ships on fire before breaking off the action. Both ships are safely back in port with only a small number of casualties.’

That last statement saved us from any further air attacks, although just after the news bulletin finished the lookout shouted ‘Aircraft port 20, sea level’. As all guns swung round around in defence positions I ranged in on the aircraft and was very happy to report to my officer; ‘They’re Hurricanes. All guns check, check, check. Aircraft friendly.’

The six fighters flew low past us, cockpits open and thumbs up signs from the pilots. That was the moment the captain was able to order Stand Down and normal steaming watches were resumed.

Not surprisingly we looked a bit of a mess when we entered Plymouth harbour, with holes in the hull, deck and superstructure, smoke damage from fires, and the Battle Ensign, torn and holed, flying at half mast. Three ships in the harbour manned the rails, crews at attention as we passed. Our dead lay on deck by he torpedo tubes, and we tied up eventually allowing the wounded ashore into waiting ambulance. We had a compliment of 220 officers and ratings, of which we had lost 11 killed and 41 wounded, 4 of those seriously.

As a postscript to this, once the ship had undergone repairs and a new twin turret installed as well as other new and update equipment we went up to Poole mud flats in order to line up the new guns in a practise shoot. Unfortunately while engaged in this one of the new 4.7 inch guns managed to accidentally drop a shell into the grounds of the nearby military hospital. Happily the shell was a wooden one!

As related to Steve Lamb — Gateshead Council@Blaydon

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