大象传媒

Peter Quinn, of the Lancshomeguard, has submitted this story to the People鈥檚 War Website on behalf of Tony Carter, son of the late Tommy Carter whose story it is. It has been added to the site with Mr Carter鈥檚 permission鈥�

The 12th of August, 1943, was a day I will remember for a long time. We had to search for a Liberator from a nearby Coastal Command squadron, that was overdue from an anti sub patrol in the South Atlantic.

鈥淐harlie鈥�, our skipper, assembled us in the ward room and put everyone in the picture, that is those of the crew who had not been at the briefing, namely; Reg, our senior gunner, engineers Jock and Paddy, Danny our rear gunner and cook, Gill, Les and myself the three Radio Operator Air Gunners. The rest of the crew were Gene, our Canadian navigator and Eddie, second pilot.
Gill, Les and I tossed a coin to decide who would open watch on the radio and radar, the odd man out being the turret watch until his turn came for either of the other duties.
We soared away from Bathurst and set course for the search area. This was something different for us, our usual routine was convoy escort or anti submarine patrols 鈥� rather boring if nothing happened to excite us like an engine packing up or something of that sort. Now we had a definite objective 鈥� to find and if possible, rescue the Liberator crew.

Well, the Atlantic is a mighty big ocean and spotting a dinghy would be like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack; that is if the dinghy even existed. However, we were determined that, if they were out there, we would find them.
Arriving at the search area, we began using the square search method, widening our area after the four legs had been completed. We knew that the radar would not be much help as a dinghy is a very small object, although we kept a strict watch on it. All the turrets were manned continually. If we came out for a rest (the eyes got very sore staring at the sea in brilliant sunlight) some other member of crew would take over.
Several hours passed and we were beginning to get a bit despondent 鈥� the skipper sensed this, reminding us or our importance in the affair and about the poor crew out in the ocean. We thought what it would have been like for them if we had passed over without sighting them.

After a while, Paddy the engineer, gave Eddie a relief in the co-pilot鈥檚 seat. Almost as soon as he picked up the binoculars, he gave a shout, 鈥漁bject over the starboard beam!鈥� The skipper alerted all positions, 鈥淜eep your eyes skinned鈥� and turned towards the area. By now others of us saw it, 鈥淚t鈥檚 a dinghy鈥�, cried Gill, as Charlie descended to almost sea level.
As we shot above it we saw five or six figures waving frantically. We cheered like fury and patted each other on the back. 鈥漈hank God we鈥檝e found the poor devils!鈥� said Skip.
A message was immediately transmitted back to base giving the exact position. We then dropped smoke floats and flares around the dinghy in case we lost sight of it.
鈥淚鈥檓 going to run up wind and see what it鈥檚 like for a landing鈥�, Skip said. Unfortunately, there was a heavy swell running; waves of anything up to ten or twelve feet, to attempt a landing would be courting disaster. The main thing was we鈥檇 found them and our message would enable a ship to be brought to the rescue.
The next job was to get some food to them 鈥� the Lindholme packs were made ready at the rear door. We dropped three or four of them, one almost landing on the dinghy and scribbled a message saying help was on its way. We continued to patrol around them until we reached the limit of our endurance and were relieved by another Sunderland. When we touched down we had been flying for almost seventeen hours, worn out but happy!
We received some patting remarks from the Ops room and then were bundled off to the mess for a hot meal, then shower and bed; very pleased with ourselves.
The following day we received quite a shock. In the early hours, HMS Clarkia, a destroyer, had taken on board the occupants of the dinghy only to find that they were all GERMANS!
The story eventually emerged 鈥� Flying Officer Lloyd Trigg, a New Zealander serving with 200 Squadron in Liberator D Donald, had surprised a U boat on the surface.
The first stick of depth charges crippled the U boat, but they had fought back with the anti-aircraft gun and scored a direct hit on the Liberator, setting her on fire. Ignoring this, Trigg dropped his remaining depth charges, blowing the U boat out of the water. Out of control and burning fiercely, D Donald crashed into the sea with F/O Trigg and his gallant crew unable to escape.
A dinghy was automatically released from the aircraft, as she hit the water and into this climbed the survivors of the U boat. These included the commander Klemens Schamong and five of his crew, one with an arm that had been lacerated by a shark. The others had either been killed by gas from the sinking submarine or torn to pieces by sharks.
Captain Schamong told of Trigg鈥檚 bravery and on his evidence Flying Officer Trigg was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross; the first airman to be awarded the VC while engaged in operations against a U boat.

We were sick at heart on hearing this sad end to what we thought was our red letter day, but we were pleased that our finding of the U boat survivors enabled the world to learn of the resolve, bravery and devotion to duty of F/O Trigg and his crew, ensuring that they got the honour and glory they richly deserved.

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