大象传媒

Written notes found after the death of my father, Dick MacKintosh, in December 1998, describing his feelings as his ship was torpedoed in the freezing English Channel in December 1942. The story is also incorporated in a book he had published in 1992 - The Hunts and the Hunted - his account of life at sea during the Second World War.

Death of a Ship

Sleep,sleep,sleep,sleep.
Mustn't sleep. Must NOT sleep.
How many nights now? 2? 3? 4? 4 nights.
Wish the cocoa boat would hurry.

WOOMPH !!!

Alarm bearing Red 90.
Alarm bearing Red 90. Train Red 90.
Alarm bearing Green 90. HELL!!!
Can't point two directions at once.
Back to red. See anything in front?
Control R.D.F. Control R.D.F.
See anything R.D.F. No answer.

WOOMPH !!!

That hit us pretty hard.

"ABANDON SHIP"

Abandon ship? Alright you can go.
Abandon ship? That sounds damn silly.
Didn't even get a shot in.
Control A Gun do. No answer.
Control B Gun do. No answer.
Control T.S. do No answer.
Control R.D.F. do No answer.

Better make a move.
My team didn't take long battling.
Killick Layer always said a hoodoo on this ship.
Off earphones. Hang on Rangefinder.
Awful sore eye. Glasses bumped when last one hit.
Open door. Down to Bridge - 5 steps - 1,2,3,4,5.
Black as pitch. She's listing to starboard.
Good Lord! No one on Bridge. They skipped quick.
Sure? No. No one here.
Over the top from here?
No carley float on flag deck.

Down to flag deck.
Too late. It's gone.
Another on fo'cstle deck.
Down to fo'cstle deck.
Bad list now.
Tricky on these ladders.
Careful.
Here's a float.
Chiefies engines hissing no end.

Wonder how far that lighthouse is away?
Your blistering flame. You made us a silhouette.
Start point. Is this the start or the finish?

Wonder if Quarterdeck boys got charges to safe?
Good God! There is no Quarterdeck.
Nothing aloft the funnel.
No time to lose. Quick, Quick, Quick.
Out jacknife.
Cut. Bash. Cut. Bash.
Push. She's over. Long way down. Dark.

Off seaboots. Off duffel.
Lifebelt deflated. Blow that up when I surface.
Wee red light. Whistle.
Hadn't got these last time.
Wasn't dark then. Wasn't December.

Hurry H.H. Will miss the float.
Dive or jump? Jump.
Don't want to crack the skull.
No hero's blood in me.
The easy way, boy. The safe way.
Seem to be the only one left on this sardine tin.
Everyone stripped double quick.
How long since the first fish hit? 5 min? 10 min?
Tell the folks at home about this. If I get home.

Oil down there. Way down there.
Remember the oil. Swim breast. No fancy crawls in that. Cupful in my guts and good-bye.

Didn't have to climb the guardrail. It's flat.
Big breath. Hold nose. Shut eyes. Jump. Splash.
Ha, Ha, Ha, it's easy.
Bound to be picked up.

Down, down, down.
When do we stop going down?
Slow strokes, steady strokes.
Up, up, up.
Keep the breath. Hold, Hold, Hold.
Long way to surface.
Must be near.
Slow strokes. Slow strokes.
Good God! Am I going the right way?

Look for bubbles. They go up.
That's it. Look for bubbles.
Too dark. Something in my eyes.
No bubbles. Can't see any bubbles.

Keep going. Keep going.
Can't hold on much longer. Not much longer.
Why are my strokes so short?
Why so fast?
Bursting. Bursting.
A wee breath. Just a wee breath.
Damn fool - you mustn't.
Keep going. Keep going.
Must, must, must, must, must.
Air.
I'm finished.

Clean, crinkly, warm, white sheets.
Heaven.
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep.

When my dad was discharged on 8 January 1946 his
father met him. His father held in his hand an old salt-encrusted wristwatch stopped at 6.45.Always undemonstrative the old man extended his right hand and enquired,"Are you still glad you went to the Navy, boy?" The answer was "Yes."

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