大象传媒

We arrived at our patrol position just after ten at night and set a steady course and speed to cover the area. The stars were quite brilliant and on the bridge it seemed we could see for a considerable distance. We had this so-called RDF (subsequently know as Radar) operating. To all intents and purposes it was useless, all it indicated when an aircraft was in the area was just that. Where it was, how high it was and what was its bearing from the ship remained a complete mystery. Our only means of detection was our ears and with the speed of the aircraft it was impossible to tell with any accuracy at all where the aircraft was in relation to the ship.

The sea was black except where our passing cut a huge wake that glowed with phosphorescence for as far as the eye could see behind us. It was almost midnight when we detected the sound of aircraft coming towards us. It had the sound of a single aircraft and we waited in anticipation for it to pass over. It didn鈥檛, suddenly there was the roar of its engine diving followed by the scream of bombs. The bombs made a line of water spouts about two hundred yards down our starboard side and the noise of their explosion was deafening. To all intents and purposes we were a sitting duck of a target. We could not see him but clearly he could see us due to the turbulence of the wake. We waited for his next run but strangely enough his noise receded in the distance.

There was a hurried conference on the bridge and it was decided that the guns would be loaded for barrage firing. The First Lieutenant (Philip) would fire a Very pistol flare in the direction he thought, by listening, the aircraft was approaching. The barrage would be put up in the direction of the flare. Within less than half an hour came the sound of aircraft, whether it was the same aircraft that had landed and reloaded we will never know.

The flare went up on our port side and the barrage firing commenced with every short-range weapon as well pouring shot into the direction of the flare. The tracers from the short-range weapons seemed to put up a deadly curtain. It was no use; within seconds we could hear the screaming sound of the bombs dropping and that cringing feeling that made you want to shrink to nothing. The explosions this time were much nearer and the deadly whistle of shrapnel accompanied by the dull thud as some of it found its mark in the ship鈥檚 side seemed all around.

Again the aircraft could be heard going away and it was obvious that we were the target for tonight and they would not stop until we had suffered a fatal hit. It was for all the world like being blindfolded and trying to evade an enemy whose only problem was getting his aim right. There was no doubt in anyone鈥檚 mind that we could dodge for much longer and a direct hit was inevitable.

The engineer arrived on the bridge to report that we had suffered minor shrapnel damage above the water line. One of the oil tanks had been slightly holed and we were leaking a small amount of oil as the ship rolled. For a few moments there was no question but to accept the fact that on the next run or the one after that we had little chance of survival. I had been through so much that the feeling of anger and frustration was as great as the fear I and everyone else felt.

It was less than five minutes after the aircraft had departed and - if the previous space in time was approximately the same - we had about 20 minutes to come up with something. We obviously couldn鈥檛 steam far in that time, not even far enough to make the aircraft think we had moved.

The First Lieutenant went into hurried conversation with the Captain and the next thing I knew a wooden raft was being put together on the upper deck. The speed at which the men were moving was incredible for within less than five minutes they launched a raft over the side - at each end was fastened a smoke float. When it hit the water the smoke floats were activated and billowing clouds of smoke interspersed with small bursts of flame gave a convincing imitation of flaming debris in the water.

The Captain ordered full ahead and we steamed away from the raft for a good five minutes and then he ordered the engines stopped. The tell-tale wake subsided and we lay there quietly in the soft darkness and cursed the stars, or at least I did. Quite some time went by until we heard the sound of aircraft engines approaching. In the distance we could see the intermittent flames and the masses of smoke from the raft. The next few minutes were the most tension-racked minutes I think I ever went through.

The sound of the aircraft grew louder until I thought it was directly overhead and screwed up my shoulders in anticipation of the scream of bombs. The next thing was the scream of the bombs but at some distance. The ruse had worked and the aircraft was bombing the raft. I suppose he was under the impression that he had hit us in his last attack and was now finishing the job.

We lay there quietly waiting for him to leave, which he did, and in view of the solitary attacks so well spaced apart we were convinced he would not return. This proved to be true. It had been marvelously quick thinking, conveyed to a willing team and put into action as if it had been rehearsed. Sometimes I look back on this particular incident and in view of everything that came after I wonder what would have happened to the Royal House of Windsor if Philip had not thought of this ruse and carried it out so successfully.

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