大象传媒

George Williams September 1915 - June 2005

Born and raised in Coxside Plymouth, I was only 17 when like many young men I joined one of the forces, I chose the Marines.
My memorable experience took place on a typical September day, the 16th to be exact, in 1939 when we set sail from Plymouth Sound in the company of four proud destroyers. There was the usual speculation as to where we were headed, would it be up or down the channel. I was a 23 year old Marine just weeks away from my 24th birthday. It wasn鈥檛 long before we passed the Eddystone and then moved to starboard (right) so our route was decided and we were simply to wait for the 鈥楥ommander Broadcast鈥� telling us our exact future whereabouts and what we had to do. Up on the flight deck there was the usual throng of activity, well what would you expect from the famous soon to be infamous carrier the HMS Courageous. The planes were being readied for their 鈥榓nti-submarine patrol鈥�. In moments we would be heading into the wind and gathering speed so they could fly off. From now until we put into port, the Fleet Air Arm personnel would have their hands full. We, the Marines and the seamen would be doing our share of standing watch on the guns just waiting for the looming trouble we expected. Not forgetting to clean the ship and go about our daily duties.
For the bulk of the crew this was an entirely new way of life, because this ship was comprised mainly of Royal Fleet Reservists and pensioners. Some of those poor old chaps hadn鈥檛 been to sea since the First World War, and here they were dumped aboard a carrier, a piece of equipment unknown to those veterans who had been at sea 1914 -18. The men had just four weeks to get acquainted with the huge bulk of a ship. Many felt they were still not efficient after this time but that was it, war was upon us and we were a fighting unit and one that was of great value to the fleet.
That evening after the flying had ceased and the ships outer had been darkened to blend into the night. The mess decks were heaving with men, some playing cards, others reading and writing or occupying their time in other ways. Then the first revelation came from our commander in the presence of everyone. We were given our prime objective. Around eight subs had slipped down the channel a day or so ago and our mission was simply to find and destroy. The length of our patrol was dependant on our success.
It was a Sunday, one of those days we liked least in the navy. We were in the early stages of the war and yet little had changed our routine was still the same. There was however, one break in our monotony, two of our escorts left us and steamed ahead onto the distant horizon and beyond. There was the usual 鈥渂uzzes鈥� going around (that鈥檚 navy slang for Yarns). Little did we know at the time the dire consequences of our escorts leaving us.
So there we were this huge carrier with just two destroyers steaming around the Irish sea with our Anti sub patrols flying off and on the vessel and that鈥檚 how the day wore on.
It had just reached 8.00 in the evening and I was enjoying a last smoke up on deck which was outside our mess under the flight deck. In about half an hour when we darkened the ship I wouldn鈥檛 be able to smoke at all. Then disaster struck, there was a massive explosion. I was thrown off my feet as the ship gave a sudden lurch to port (left). For a moment I was dazed and didn鈥檛 know what to think but in just seconds my mind cleared and I feared the worst. There was only one place to get to and that was the flight deck. I scrambled up one of the ladders that lead to that deck, but what a sight greeted me as I looked across the huge steel deck. It was angled at about 45鈥� degrees and getting stepper by the minute. My options seemed to be getting more and more limited, what was my best course of action? Was I to climb up that deck or simply jump over the side. Was the ship going to sink any time soon or would it be hours in which case I would have to get back aboard. It was amazing to think how all this passed through my mind in seconds. I started to climb hand over hand so that I could stand upright and look down the ships side. To add to the atmosphere of terror all this while the ships fog horn was blowing but it was more like a final cry before death claimed her.
The next words I heard was the shuddering cry of 鈥渆very man for himself鈥�. By this time I had managed to gather my wits but everywhere I looked men were jumping off the side of the flight deck, they had 50 to 70 feet before they reached the water, where many men were clearing the immediate vicinity.
Hundreds tried to stand upon the blisters that were fast rising out of the sea as she keeled over. Men who could not swim, remained too petrified to go in, others just ran about as shear terror had taken hold. I told myself that If I wanted to survive I had to stay cool and calm and I had to find a way down that ships side which would give me the maximum safely for when I had to jump and clear the ships bottom as she was keeling over. First I had to get rid of bulk including shoes and clothing much of my pride followed. Then I scrambled down the sides in my stocking feet until I was 50 feet from the water. I couldn鈥檛 go any further so I prepared myself, just then a fellow from above jumped and landed where I was about to on top of the screw (the propeller) just as it was coming through the water. His impatience had saved my life but he had lost his own.
It was over in a matter of seconds, I was falling through the air and then swimming as hard and as fast as my body would allow. Due to the ships suction the rest of my cloths went and I headed for a destroyer about a mile away, he dare not get any closer due to us having being sunk by a sub which was most likely still in the vicinity. As I paused exhausted from trying to reach the destroyer that kept moving to avoid attack I lay on my back and looked back at a sight which would haunt me for the rest of my life. The huge and proud 鈥淐ourageous鈥� had her stern lifted completely out of the water taking hundreds of my comrades with her. I can see them now dropping off her like flies.
It was another hour before I luckily made the destroyers whaler, which was picking up men who were swimming clear of our ship. We were taken to the relative safety of the destroyer.
Some of the other survivors were in a really bad way, having swam in oil or being burnt as steam escaped from inside the sinking vessel. Another sight I can never forget from when we were taken along side the destroyer, was the sight of a man so badly scalded that when the sailors on the destroyer went alongside to help him up on the side of the ship his skin simply came away as though he had been flayed. His body just slipped and fell backwards into the water and sank below sight.
Aboard the destroyer I was given a sailors uniform as I was still sat in nothing but my underpants. Upon arrival at Davenport Dockyard there were vans to take us to Plymouth Barracks and it took a lot of persuasion to convince them I was a Marine not a sailor and needed taking back to my own barracks.
The Courageous went to a watery grave on the 17th of September 1939 and took with it 518 of our 1,200 comrades on board. It was torpedoed by Kapitanleutnant Otto Schuhart in a VII U-boat, it was one of the first major blows of the second world war and earned the subs crew a decoration from Hitler.

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