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Taken from oral reminiscence. Names may not be correct.

In February 1942 John Sims and I travelled up to Sunderland to join our first ship arriving at night while that city was being bombed by the Germans. Neither of us had seen an ocean-going ship in our lives but were keen to go to sea as Cadets. We were booked into a hotel of necessity since the ship was not completely built. The officers appointed to the SS Stanbank were already staying at the hotel.

After some weeks the ship was completed and then sailed to the Tyne where she was loaded with ballast for the trip to USA. We then steamed up to Methil in the Firth of forth — a coastal convoy port. We sailed in convoy around Scotland to Loch Eire — the major convoy (deep water) port in NW Scotland during both World Wars. The ships, about 30, gathered until a convoy was formed with Naval Escourts and sailed across the Atlantic to Canada and New York. SS Stanbank broke down with main bearing on the prop shaft problem but the convoy sailed onwards. The weather was rough and of N Atlantic in March/April but when repairs effected we sailed on alone at top speed arriving in New York on 15th April 1942.

It was a fantastic experience to see all the lights and activities in New York City. John had cousins and other relatives in New York who gave us a wonderful time during the two and a half weeks we were loading the ships with War materials in the Brooklyn Docks. In our first night ashore, stepping out of the subway at Times Square, the sights were remarkable especially to two naïve young teenagers from the Cotswolds.

The ship sailed alone on 1st May with the destination of the Persian gulf via Durban S.A. At 02.10 on 5th May we were woken from sleep in our beds by a dull thud and the sound of water crashing on our quarters above the engine room. At first we did not realize we had been torpedoed but the engines were stopped and we then heard the noises of men outside our cabin by the lifeboat; I looked outside, then quickly back to tell John and to get dressed. Fully dressed we joined the crew by the lifeboat station, the boat already lowered onto the sea with men scrambling down the main ropes. We could see the sea flooding the docks around No 3 hatch and realized she was sinking by the head. The 3rd Radio Officer dropped the boat radio etc. down but it all went into the sea. We were ordered into the boat by the Chief Officer and duly went down the man ropes. The crew rowed the boat away from the ship but a red light (on a life jacket shoulder) was seen aboard on the starboard side by the motor lifeboat which was impossible to launch, the man was seen to get into the sea and swim towards us. The ship sank at 02.25 a traumatic sight. The man in the sea was rescued by the Captain as he directed our boat towards him — it was the chief Engineer — very glad to be with us — his third sinking during the war.

The jolly boat from the Bridge port boatstation was nearby crewed by the 2nd Officer and others. A raft with the 3rd Engineer and his own watch of Arab firemen and greasers aboard was also nearby, along with 2 other rafts with men aboard. The starboard lifeboats and one raft went down with the ship. For several days some of the large deck cargo crates floated on the sea not far away. At daylight the Captain had both boats and 3 rafts roped together and men were distributed to each of the rafts. I found myself allocated to a raft with the 64 year old Chief engineer and 7 of his Arab men. The Chief made me responsible for food and water distribution.

On the second day the jolly boat sailed away under command of 2nd Officer Stark with the other men being light it could sail and might get to land somewhere. On the 3rd day the weather changed dramatically — a storm set in. Captain Nildrie moved most of us into the lifeboat, cast away 2 of the rafts and put the Chief Engineer and all his Arab crew from below into the last raft. The boat put out a sea anchor to steady the boat and prevent too much drift. Soon after midnight the other Cadet on watch told the Watch Officer that the * had no raft attached to it — the raft was gone. At crack of dawn the Captain started to take the boat back and forth to look for the raft in the direction he estimated it would drift — brilliant seamanship — the raft was found in late afternoon, all of them transferred to the boat and the raft castaway.

On the 6th evening a plane was seen low on the horizon but it obviously did not see the boat. Our water ration was reduced to 20 oz. per man once a day to conserve water.

At 4pm on the 10th day I saw ship smoke, then the top of a funnel — no one believed me at first but it became a complete ship in time. As it got nearer hopes rose that it would see the boat — eventually it turned towards us, reached our boat and 40 men gladly climbed the Jacob ladder put over; the legs felt strange when on a solid deck. The ‘Blue Funnel’ took us back to Bermuda, arriving there the next morning 15th May. We were ferried ashore at St George’s then to Hamilton.

We spent 2 months on the beautiful islands enjoying life immensely. In mid-July we boarded HMS Archer, the first Estcourt Air Carrier in the royal Navy and sailed to New York — an interesting experience. After spells in hotels in New York and Baltimore, John and I joined the SS ‘Empire Tamar’ another ship operated by Stanhope SS Co. and sailed on her for several trips across the Atlantic, always in convoy, except when this old ship broke down. The Royal Navy policy was to leave ships which failed and always look after the convoy with whatever Estcourts were available. The winter of 1942-43 saw plenty of hard weather and difficult trips. In March 1943 I was hospitalised in Glasgow with multi-injuries, having been gassed by * and being flung 40-50 feet into a deep tank. The ‘Empire Tamar’ was in 6/44 the lead ship, sank at Arramanches Beachhead to form a temporary breakwater so that Mulberry Harbour could be towed inside and sunk in position. In summer I joined the SS Stanmore, made a trip to Canada in convoys and back to UK — I was again put in hospital. The ship sailed, was mined off Cape Town Africa and beached. Later I joined a new tanker MV ‘Empire Berrisford’ which she completed construction in the time. Sailed in coastal convoys to Loch * where I was again hospitalised with double pneumonia on 31.12.43. Eventually, when well, I rejoined the tanker in the spring and we made many trips through 1944-45 to NY and New Jersey always loading aviation spirits(100 octane) or motor spirits; also made coastal trips from the Clyde to the themes prior to D-Day 6th June with spirit cargoes. The tankers were well placed in the centre of convoys for extra protection: very little enemy action observed during these trips — the convoys often comprised about 150 ships. In January 1945 took cargo to Antwerp where V1s and V2s fell regularly; even after 8th May 1945. Convoys continued to potential rogue U-Boats or Japanese subs. The ships sailed in convoy to Odessa, Russia, in April1945 with ‘Alcholate’ spirit and afterwards to * to take cargo to Italy. Another trip to the US and back to Antwerp, still in convoys (tried to keep to mine swept areas around Europe.) The ship was in Falmouth preparing to be a freshwater carrier, with other tankers, for the invasion of Japan when VJ Day 15.8.45 occurred. Thus convoys ceased in the European theatre.

Life was sometimes boring during these voyages but station keeping, especially in fog when you had to put our Fog Buoys to aid visibility was vital and kept us on our toes.

Regret the length of this story, though much else occurred sometimes. We two Cadets were the youngest survivors of the Stanbank sinking - the Jolly boat with 9 men was lost in a storm — and most of the survivors were not young in 1942 and must be deceased — the 3rd Officer and 4th engineer could be alive but at least 85 years old. The Captain proved to be a tough, very skilled seaman who had endured a long arduous War. The War experiences made us grow up fast.

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