大象传媒

Towing practice

That evening thoughts about being a prisoner for the rest of the war kept coursing through my mind, as if somehow the war were already over for me. But the following morning this fantasy was dispelled by the powerful reality of the presence of two long lean grey shapes anchored on the far side of the loch: the first two of the towing submarines had arrived. Lying low in the water, with their true length invisible, and only the casing surmounting part of their cigar-shaped hulls to be seen, together with the slim conning-tower protruding amidships, they spoke of secrecy and attack. During the morning and afternoon the other four towing submarines slid into Loch Cairnbawn, at two-hour intervals for security reasons, and anchored in their allotted stations. The captain's skiff from Bonaventure went out to each in turn to collect the skippers for an initial meeting with the senior officers in charge of the operation, and with the X-craft commanders.

Two essential drills that had to be done by X-craft and big submarines together. One was practising towing, on the surface and underwater; the other was transferring crews from the X-craft to the big sub and vice versa - the swop of the passage crew and the operational crew that would have to be carried out off the coast of North Norway. Each sub had been fitted with a towing bar and housing right aft, almost at the final point of the cigar; and also a towrope - it must have been over a hundred yards long - which was stowed below the after casing. Three of these towropes were made of an entirely new substance called nylon, much thinner than the bulky manilla ropes with which we were all familiar. The three X-craft commanders who had been allotted manilla were I think well pleased not to have another unknown hazard to contend with; boffins were always coming out with some new invention they would swear by, but when tried out under real conditions it would fail for some reason obvious to seamen, but ignored by the enthusiastic inventor. Inside both types of towrope was rove a telephone cable, to enable the two commanders to speak to each other: that of course had been another last minute job, to fit the mike, and the wiring, and the connections through the hull of each craft - someone had failed to foresee what would be involved in the process of towing as an operation at sea.

The submarine allotted to X8 was the Seanymph, captained by Jack Oakley. Just how the submarine commanders were matched up with the X-craft skippers I have no idea, but Jack and Buck shared at any rate two important features: a boyish sense of humour, and a commitment to informality. There may have been cultural arguments in favour of pairing Don Cameron with fellow Scot Alexander; and of putting two Australians together - Ken Hudspeth of X 10 and Ian McIntosh of the Sceptre. The dashing Henty-Creer was paired with a commander who had a growing reputation for seeking out and accomplishing the spectacular, known in the service as Baldy Hezlet. But all of this is conjecture on my part, and at the time I gave such matters no thought; all I cared about was that Seanymph would be towing us, and that I liked Jack Oakley's informal ways.

Even when we came to the towing practice I had to keep out of the way however. Others floated out the manilla from the big sub to the X-craft, where Jack Smart and his two crewmen had already taken up position; and as Seanymph gathered way and the manilla stretched out astern, I had to go below into the wardroom to let the operation proceed smoothly. In Seanymph鈥檚 control room, the complex array of machinery and valves and dials, handles and periscope motors, wheels and attack equipment, impressed me. From outside a submarine looked extremely simple, smooth in line, with very few of the many protuberances carried by a surface vessel. But inside all was complication and congestion. From the wardroom I could see some of the rituals being carried out, in ceremonials I could only guess at interpreting.

Once we were in deep enough water, the big sub prepared to submerge: another ritual, with a special sense of importance. The engines shut off, and the hum of the electric motors started up, propelling the vessel along and down slowly under the waves. The conning tower hatch had been shut soon after the order 'Dive, dive, dive!' had been given from the bridge. Last down the ladder into the control room was Jack Oakley. After the drumming of the engines while on the surface, and the inrush of air down the conning tower to feed them with air, we were now in a much quieter, smoother world. Orders were given in the tones of a drawing room conversation. The first lieutenant was holding the trim, giving orders to pump water from one tank to another, and watching the depth of the submarine. Jack had ordered periscope depth, and was studying, through one of them, the effects of the towing manilla being submerged both on the X-craft and on his own vessel. Buck was beside him, and invited to take a look as well.

I recall little of this part of the exercise, however, apart from my astonishment at how cramped the interior of the submarine was, and how tiny the wardroom. Even the bunks for the officers were shorter than a man's length, and served both as bed and seat for those gathered round the tiny table. Only the fourth side was open, and that formed part of the corridor running from the control room forward through the PO鈥檚 mess to the bows, where the torpedo tubes lay. In the end it was time for the crew transfer to take place, so that the operational crew could carry out the same towing trials. The telephone, which had been working, if somewhat croakily, came much into use before the drill was verified. The actual sequence had been determined well beforehand: it was essential that the passage skipper and Buck should meet on board the X-craft for a proper handover. At the same time the rubber dinghy would only take two men at once, plus whatever personal gear they had to take with them. So it had to make four journeys in all: two out and two in. I think Buck took Jack with him on the first trip out, and that the engineer PO and rating came back. Then it was my turn to get into the dinghy, with Jock Murray, the Scots ERA.

I made my way up the vertical conning tower ladder, the air intake for the engines blowing hard against my shoulders and whistling past my body as I climbed through the hatch. It was good to be out in the open air after the tight throng of people in the sub. I climbed over the combing of the conning tower, and down the ladder on the outside, then walked aft along the casing. There was only a modest swell running. The dinghy was bobbing about near the after-planes of the big sub, and the two of us scrambled in and were pushed off.
'Keep clear of the manilla!' someone shouted at us as we dropped astern.

I looked over the side of the dinghy. The manilla was only a couple of feet below the surface, and we were drifting over it, carried by the wind. At the same time I noticed the manilla was rising; the big sub had to keep going ahead to counteract the effect of wind and waves, and stop the X-craft drifting abeam. In a few seconds the manilla would be directly below us, and could lift the dinghy and tip us into the water. Another unforeseen eventuality! Nothing to fend ourselves off with! I leant out and grasped the manilla underwater, thrusting us aside. As it rose further, it provided a purchase to help ourselves along with for awhile, then sank below the waves again. I wondered how we would manage if we were transferring in the dark.

Finally we reached the X-craft, and with some difficulty changed places with the skipper man of the passage crew; X8 rocked with our movements. In a few moments we were all four below, and the hatch shut. Buck seemed pleased to be back on board his own command. I was told to go into the forward space, above the batteries, but the intervening hatches were left open. I felt the surge as the speed of the tow increased. To begin with all was easy, but when we submerged Jack Marsden found it tricky keeping depth. The effect of the heavy towing bar in the casing above our bows could be felt, and the rope seemed to pull us along first faster and then slower, as we porpoised slightly underwater. But finally he seemed to get the knack of anticipating the movement, and making a due correction. It was dark before we got back to Cairnbawn, and a late supper.

Royal inspection

For some days previously, the anti-aircraft defences of Bonaventure and Titania had been tested out; the Oerlikon armament had been put to unwonted firing, and with live rounds too, at imaginary targets. I assumed that this was part of the build-up to the start of Operation Source, to make sure any intruders would be repulsed or even destroyed. Precautions were taken on land as well to make sure that no-one had strayed over from Drumbeg into the secret area of Port HHZ. The precautions went so far as to include a mock attack by a couple of fighter planes - I think they were Hurricanes - which came and buzzed the ships; the gun crews were instructed to keep them within their sights as they swept towards us and zoomed overhead, but not to press the trigger! We watched the display of these aircraft, and caught our breaths at how close they zoomed to our masts. Finally one outdid the other by flying between the masts of Bonaventure, under the aerial stretched between them!
The morning after the towing trials a destroyer anchored abeam of Tites. What did they have to do with the Tirpitz operation? Why did everybody seem to be coming up into HHZ? That morning there was unusual activity in the loch, with Walrus seaplanes flying in, and what seemed like a flurry of gold braid on the bridge and upper deck. Finally we were told: in two hours time the King himself was due to visit us! We were to parade on the forward well-deck of Bonaventure - all the X-craft crews, operational and passage together, and the captains and Number One's of the towing submarines; also the charioteers from Tites, two of whom were to be in diving gear; together with her senior officers as well as those of the Bonaventure. All other ranks were to assemble, but not parade, on the fo'c'stle and upper works of the ship.

A thrill of delight coursed through the ships鈥� companies to hear that the King was coming in person to pay us a visit: it seemed to give final confirmation of the importance attached to the whole enterprise. We paraded in operational, not ceremonial gear, and were ready drawn up in the confined space on the for鈥檃rd welldeck of Bonaventure when another Walrus appeared, escorted by a couple of fighters weaving this way and that over the loch as the seaplane made its lumbering approach. Within minutes we were called to attention, and the King was amongst us. From the corner of my eye I noticed how suntanned he looked, as he stood chatting with the submarine commanders. Then, in the uniform of Admiral of the Fleet, he began moving along the X-craft crews, paused briefly to exchange a word or two with Buck before moving on, saying something like 'Splendid!'.

I was astounded to see that his lips were scarlet, as if he were suffering from strange illness; but when I saw that his cheeks were rouged, I realised that make-up had been used on him, and I felt acutely embarrassed, and let down. Kings shouldn't be painted up like women, I strongly felt. He paused with interest before the charioteers in diving rig: Pod Eldridge and Tiger Smith; Tiny Fell was there, showing the King various pieces of equipment and how they worked. Even at this stage I felt myself drawn to be amongst them again, counted amongst the group which I had joined nine months earlier. Then the assembled ships鈥� companies were called upon to cheer His Majesty in person; we were his Navy. And so it was entirely fitting that he ordered Bonaventure and Titania to 鈥渟plice the main brace鈥�, and was cheered spontaneously.

Within an hour or two he was on his way; we cheered him once again as the Walrus lifted him off the grey waters of Port HHZ.

Departure

Came at last the day of departure. The morning was spent on all the final details. and the last conversations between friends. Geordie Nelson was buoyed up, even though his premonitions about dying remained. Bob Aitken exuded his usual quiet confidence. Dickie Kendall was going to take his tome on soil and manures with him. Buck and Jack Smart conferred while Jack Marsden was seeing to the loading and trim of the X-craft. and checking his sums over and over again. Our last meal on board Bonaventure was lunch on September 11, for immediately afterwards the work of passing the tow began for the first two submarines and midgets to leave. These were the two Scotsmen, Alexander in HM Submarine Truculent (one of the two larger subs taking part) with Don Cameron's X6 in tow; and Jupp in Syrtis, towing Terry Martin's X9. There was scarcely a single man aboard Bonaventure and Titania not on deck watching the preparations. At 1600, the senior submarine commander, Alexander, with the midget in tow, and the passage commander, Paddy Kearon on deck by the stanchion and voice-pipe, stood ready to salute. So both vessels passed Bonaventure, crews standing at attention, with Rear-Admiral Barry on the bridge. He had come for the final two days, having master-minded the operation from the outset. And now all the planning and the manoeuvering was over and Operation 'Source', as it had been named, was beginning.

A few minutes later Syrtis drew past. Astern of her, X9 was drawn along in the wake of the big submarine. On the casing stood Paddy Kearon; his salute was characteristically energetic and joyous. Even at two hundred yards we could see he was bursting with the sense of the occasion. And suddenly he broke out in a semaphore signal. using his arms: 'Up spirits!' We all waved and cheered him on; there was no doubt but that his spirits well and truly alight.

Then it was Geordie's turn to prepare; a final shake and a backslap, and he was gone down the companion way to the motorboat plying back and forth. At six in the evening, while it was still light, Baldy Hezlet's Thrasher sailed past, with him on board; I thought I could make him out among the officers on the bridge; the passage captain was Terry-Lloyd, a South African with quite a mad streak in him too (and a fine singing voice, I now remember) to match the temperament of the operational skipper of X5.

We were next. The motor boat took us across in the gathering dusk. and we climbed aboard the big vessel; Jack Smart and the other two members of the passage crew were already aboard the X8, and I think the tow was being passed and secured. This time I was allowed to remain on the bridge for the ceremony of leaving harbour. By the time we were clear to proceed, it was quite dark. so there were no friendly waves, but instead the familiar appearance of Titania and Bonaventure, both looking very snug and secure and homely. We stood to attention as we passed them and heard the answering bosun's pipe from their upper decks. Then it was over; we were leaving them astern. The night time contours of the loch disappeared in the night. We were off.

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