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Five days had passed, and orders came to return to Scapa Flow. What troubles were we bound for? We were again rather apprehensive of the return journey. We said our farewells to Polyarno, in silence from our hosts, and Russia. Ship’s company would have liked the order: full speed, stern down, and let’s get home. But it was not to be; we formed up with carriers, cruisers and merchant ships for convoy JW60 and once again it was a slow six to nine knots convoy back. I would imagine that the crews of many merchant ships (British, American and allied) would also have been pleased to get under way, as many would have been in Russia since the previous convoy, sometimes for several months.

So we started our long and arduous journey, watch keeping, look outs scanning the sea and sky, others close up to the Asdic sets listening to the echo of a ping sound emitting from a dome under our ship, rebounding sound to their head sets, this in turn being broadcast to the bridge party to listen to the sounds if they changed note. Us on watch on B gun could also hear the broadcast. It became an incessant noise to us for our watch period. We became pin happy, incessantly ping, ping, pong repeatedly. Others were on radar picket duty, watching their screens, again keeping a visual watch hour after hour, with other operators. The merchant ships had timber loaded on the upper decks instead of planes, tanks and lorries as on the outward voyage.

Enduring our watch on B gun, sheltering in the gun shield as best we could from the cold, and often the rain or sleep too, all eight of us took it in turns to wear the headphones in case of an instant call to Action Stations. It became apparent that one of our number, Taffy Reece, was very quiet and not talking much, and became very jumpy if one tried to engage him in conversation. Poor Taffy, a lad of 18 years, was not well. A Kilick (Leading Seaman) said that it was best to take him to the sick bay. The doctor kept him there for the duration of the voyage, and he was put ashore on return to port. It is a wonder that more of us never succumbed to mental illness whilst being at sea in northern waters.

Into October now and retracing our outward route. Alarm bells ring in our mess deck for Action Stations, and we are running through the ship to gain the upper deck and on to A gun, clearing away the gun for action, reporting gun crew closer up. Noticing it was light now, although overcast and a heavy well of sea, we awaited the order; load, load, load gun.

A loud explosion and another: two merchantmen had been hit with acoustic torpedoes (gnats), but no aircraft were up yet and the escorts were searching for the U-boats to no avail. We could see that the merchant ships were sinking, but SS Rankin, a faster merk (merchant) ship went alongside one of them, allowing the seamen to jump aboard before proceeding to the second ship. The SS Ranking had been on many Russian convoys and was fitted with heavy bulk timbers on its sides and bow. Acoustic torpedoes, gnats, are fired from some distance away from the convoy, approaching in a circle, and activated by the noise of ships propellers. Any ships, including ours, are at risk from such attacks.

There would have been a covering force of naval ships up off the North Cape of Norway, a battleship, carrier and escort, or there could be another convoy to Murmansk. These extra ships gave no greater confidence of our safe arrival back to Scapa Flow. HMS Volage had been with the covering fleet in the past. After what seemed an age, and without further loss, other escorts took the merchant ships on to UK ports, with us returning to Scapa Flow, short on fuel and short on sleep. Scapa Flow didn’t seem such a bad place after all.

Before many days had passed we were back at sea again, escorting a carrier strike force up to Norway. I remember it was aborted after four days because we ran into hurricane force winds head on. The relief, when we turned around back to port.

Volage escorted two Russian convoys; one up, RA60 and one back, JW60. In December 1944 it entered Leith Docks (Edinburgh) for a short refit. The starboard watch went on a seven day Xmas leave, while the port watch went home for the New Year. We sailed around to Greenock, and on 11th January 1945 we sailed for Trincomalee in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) to join the East Indies Fleet.

Our voyage to Russia was comparatively easy compared to previous and later convoys. Sixty years on, I have learnt that Bletchley Park, having broken the German naval codes via Ultra, diverted RA60 convoys to and from Murmansk around 23 U-boats and also that Swordfish planes had sunk 4 U-boats 40 miles ahead of us on RA60. I shudder today in old age, glad that we didn’t know that at the time years ago.

Having read years later, RAF Bombers attacked and bombed Turpitz two days before we sailed and damaged her. Probably the admiralty didn’t know the extent of the damage and safe to let Rodney sail.

With Russian convoy PQ17, when admiralty sent off naval forces on a wild goose chase. Convoy scattered, loosing many merchant ships to U-boats and bombers.

Ex A/B Lofty Mills

A BADGE TO WEAR WITH PRIDE

In September 2004 I took a trip to Saint Petersburg and Moscow in Russia. It happened to be 60 years ago since my last visit to Russia in September 1944 as a seaman on the destroyer HMS Volage, taking a convoy of merchant ships loaded with war materials to Murmansk to help Russia’s Patriot War of 1941 — 1945. Our convoy arriving safely, we berthed at the Soviet Naval Base of Polyarno. Two Russian boys were bartering Red Army cap badges for a bar of chocolate. The one I purchased 60 years ago I wore on my jacket when on this trip to both St. Petersburg and Moscow. My Russian cap badge was noticed and pointed to. And on being asked why I had it, by ordinary Russians, I explained through a combination of sign language and the help of some persons who spoke English, and the help of our local guides telling others. I was astonished that all and sundry knew all about the Russian convoys that the Royal Naval escorted under horrendous conditions to Murmansk and Archangel. My cap badge proved to be something special. Although it was only made of tin, and I was asked to sell it. I stated that I wore it with pride, so with many handshakes and two little gifts I came away a modest reluctant hero. To me it was the merchant seamen who were the heroes. I had just done my duty.

Ex Lofty John Mills.

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