大象传媒

My father was one of the lucky ones. Torpedoed twice in two months onboard SS City of Cairo - 13 days in an open boat - and, after rescue and recuperation, torpedoed again while a passenger on SS Queen City on his way home after the first sinking.

鈥淕oodnight Sorry for Sinking you鈥�, an apology uttered by Kapitain Karl-Friedrich Merten of German submarine U-68 to the survivors of the SS City of Cairo shortly after he torpedoed them. Alone, in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean, the survivors in small boats stood little chance of survival.

My father Calum MacLean was born in 1922 on the Isle of Barra in the Western Isles of Scotland. He was affectionately known as the "Swede鈥� because of his fair skin and blonde hair, and like many Islanders of his generation he had a natural love for the sea. In 1938, after a short time as a fisherman, he joined the Merchant Navy. This was the life he loved and, despite the trials and horrors of the war to come, was to be his life for the next 22 years.

During World War II, being a merchant seaman was an extremely dangerous occupation; ships were lost from the day the war in Europe was declared until the very day the war ended. My father had many a lucky escape. On the 21st January 1941 he left the SS Cape Nelson. On its next voyage, just a month later, it was torpedoed and sunk by U-95 whilst part of Convoy (OB-288).

In June 1941 he joined the tanker Laurelwood: he was a seaman gunner. You may think it strange for a civilian to be classed as a seaman gunner but during wartime some merchant seamen were also trained to man the ships' guns. Those ships that carried armament were known as D.E.M.S. (Defence Equipped Merchant Ships). In December 1941 he joined the Ellerman Hall vessel SS City of Cairo usually operating between India, South Africa and the UK. On the 1st October 1942 the City of Cairo departed Bombay (unescorted) on route to the UK via Durban and Cape Town, South Africa and Pernambuco (now called Recife), Brazil.

It was on the Cape Town to Pernambuco leg of their voyage home when the ship was struck by a torpedo from U-68 captained by Karl-Friedrich Merten. The order was given to abandon ship and everyone made for his or her boat station. My father's station was with boat no 5, which was also the station of the Cairo's skipper Capt. W. A. Rogerson. After about twenty minutes had passed Merten delivered the coup de grace and released a second torpedo. The City of Cairo sunk by the stern.

The U-68 surfaced and its Captain informed the survivors of their position: approximately 2000 miles from Brazil, 1000 miles from Africa and about 500 miles from the Island of St Helena. He then uttered the now famous phrase: 鈥淕oodnight, sorry for sinking you鈥� and the submarine then departed the scene. Merten admitted in a documentary made about the sinking in 1984, that he didn't think the survivors stood any chance of making it to safety.

What then followed was an extraordinary account of seamanship, endurance, courage and determination. Capt. Rogerson gathered all the boats together and decided to make for the tiny island of St Helena. Such a small island (10.5 miles x 6.5 miles) in such a vast ocean was going to be very difficult requiring precise navigation. Thankfully, Rogerson's navigation was spot on and after two weeks at sea the main body of survivors was spotted and rescued by the SS Clan Alpine not far from the island. On route three boats became detached from the main group and their stories are the most remarkable of all.

After the ordeal of the sinking and the sea journey in an open boat, my father was landed at St Helena where, after recuperating, he boarded the Clan Line steamer SS Clan Colquhoun (on a conveyance order) on route to South Africa. He was then placed aboard the Reardon Smith Line SS Queen City, which had called at Table Bay, South Africa, for bunkers (coal) on a voyage from Bombay, India to Trinidad and the UK.
On 1st December 1942 the Queen City sailed from Table Bay and, three weeks later, on 21st December 1942, was torpedoed by the Italian submarine 鈥淓nrico Tazzoli鈥� and then sunk by gunfire. The submarine was commanded by Commander Carlo Fecia di Cossato, the most successful Italian submarine commander of the war. The survivors landed by ships boats in Maranhao near St. Luiz, Brazil. And so ended the most traumatic two months of my father's life.

This was only 1942, and Dad sailed on another seven ships before the end of the war. They were relatively dangerous voyages however, but nothing like his experiences on City of Cairo and Queen City.
From joining the service in 1938 until 1945 He served on a total of nineteen ships - by the end of the war nine had been lost to enemy action.

My father stayed on in the Merchant Navy after the war, serving in another thirty-five ships, sailing mainly with the Ellerman Line but also with many other well-known shipping companies; now sadly, like our Merchant Navy, almost consigned to history. Finally, after he met my mother, he swallowed the anchor in 1960.

He worked, as a boatman, for the next seven years in the small Highland communities of Knoydart and Kingairloch before moving to Fort William, were he lived for the rest of his life.

My father always missed the sea.

鈥淎m fear, is fhaide chaidh bho'n bhaile,
Chual e'n ce貌l bu mhilse leis nuair thill e dhachaidh鈥�

鈥� Who farthest away e'er did roam
Heard the sweetest music on returning home鈥�

鈥淕aelic Proverb鈥�.

Malcolm (Calum) MacLean died on the 20th January 1996 aged 73.
Very much missed by all his family.

There is a more in depth account of the sinking of the SS City of Cairo on my website ^{About links} I hope you may find it of interest.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.