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Part 2
No-one expected the next moves, only that very early next morning certain aircraft of ours visited us, and gave us a warm feeling that now, it seemed the Coastal Command had some time for us and made their presence felt in this way. By breakfast time there began a general exodus - it was 2nd September. Things were definitely moving, the vanguard of the convoy had preceded this body of heavy laden ships, all blackened or dark grey, sombre and yet hardly any with a gun! But then, as was to be expected, there were some reasons for that, some we didn't understand or agree with, 'ours not to reason why', etc. Thankfully, as it does at times in these areas, the weather had so abated as to show a pleasant face as we negotiated the Minches to take the Atlantic swells of bountiful proportion easily and at about 8 knots we formed ourselves more or less in the middle of this British section of the convoy, later to be augmented by an American convoy, somewhere off the west coast of Ireland. Our 8 knots or so would be about right for us to manage on our full tanks of fuel but we took stock of the fact that we could need more and looked closely to see where the Fleet tanker was in relation to the Convoy - always so essential.

The last thing we had seen at Aultbea, the name of the tiny, but so important Scottish hamlet at Loch Ewe, was the WRNS waving goodbye, but waving coloured rags, so it looked, until a signal man was heard to say, 'Bloody hell! - they're waving their knickers and things!' - completely non-Navy, but perhaps our last sight of civilisation! It seemed although it got decidedly colder it also smoothed out to a quite acceptable sea passage, appetites came back and conversation as well. Action Stations of course, were pursued with considerable vigour because we must have felt that being bottled up in the ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ water was a good reason to shake off some of the sloth! But we settled in to the routine very quickly and gave little cause for alarm to our new captain whom we hadn't seen too much of. Captain Adam, RN was in some respects like the previous captain, a very solid, square man, and had a notable record, but the fact he had come to us, a ship as it were, put together like so many others 'to make do' until something better could be produced, made us wonder if, after all, we were becoming more important than we thought. A case of 'horses for courses', chosen for a specific reason? If so, he lost nothing in our estimation from the way he handled the ship from taking over in Belfast, for straightaway he had a number of things brought to his notice. He looked for things to concern himself in and as the M.A.A. told me on one occasion, 'He's tops!' At our lowly level on the mess deck we have nothing to do with the Captain who's chiefly our judge and jury and Chief Executioner when we see him sometimes, the only time we ever met, and it wouldn't be wrong to say, there are some in ships who never want to see their captain! To rectify this in our case, Captain Adam had made time to 'Clear Lower Deck' and have the ship's company up on the waist of the ship, as we had no quarter deck as such, or foc'sle - slightly damaged - so we congregated amidships as he leaned over the after end of the Lower Bridge and gave us a ten minute chat. No heroics, no death or glory, but something we wanted to hear, and he just back from F.O.I.C. Aultbea had something to tell. 'I'm glad to tell you', he said, 'we now know what we've got in front of us. Firstly this is a good ship, and I am confident in being able to do our job, which is highly important, vital, in fact, and we know we are equipped and capable to a high degree, of course most of us have some experience and know where we are going, but this time,' - he emphasised it, 'it's going to be different! No misunderstandings, and we are going to be right in the thick of it. From what I have seen I am not only confident, as I say, I know what you can do and I look forward to a successful voyage. A lot of men are relying on us, we won't let them down, give everything you've got and let's gets there and back is my message, good luck!' Perhaps he didn't have any more to tell us but enough was 'allowed' to permeate and the mere fact that we were now in convoy and huge bellied ships low in the water were beetling along thumping out 8-9 knots on a slowly curving course to put us North and West somewhere west of Ireland was information enough. The last illusions however we dispatched on seeing a couple of Russian cargo ships of doubtful vintage and those who held out we could be going so far NW of Ireland to dodge(?) the U boats round Malin Head, paid their bets, or shut their cake-holes, and shivered slightly with the rest of us, now fully convinced it was to be 'Eskimo Nell', not 'Freetown Fanny' for the next run ashore!

As I say, the run up to the rendezvous with the US section of the convoy was in waters that belied the fact that we were approaching Denmark Strait, dreadful at times as the escape route for the German ships trying to get to the Atlantic, so calm, even blue, there was little warmth but as we said, you can't have everything. Dawn and dusk, we pounded to our action stations. I was completely in charge of the mess, had to see all hands clear of the quarters, and report to the duty P.O. en route to my action station in the Auxiliary Boiler Room, which incidentally was also my watch-keeping station. Once through the watertight door and the six clips swung on and hammered tight, I was to all intents and purposes sealed in a can. The two hands who were also in this department were sent over from the Engine Room, and had to be on hand for my orders from there. One man was ready to shut off fuel, the other to start or stop pumps as required. But constant practice had got us to make these tasks easy and it was a case of knowing how it was likely to be the real thing once more.

One man was new, Jeffray, (the man always blurting about Communism had been drafted which wasn't a bad thing for he was also troubled as well with a leg, and whether it was that which got him moved I don't know, anyway I for one, was glad he was taken off my responsibility) thus at action stations it was comparatively quiet. The odd time was when - for purposes of an exercise - we had to do all our tasks in secondary lighting, when the whole boiler room was in darkness only four or five 'miner's lamps' - battery lit, (which switched on as the main lighting went off) and if ever there was time for claustrophobia it was then, for the darkness and unaccustomed feel of things can upset some. To me it was no bother, and only now at sea, in dangerous waters, could I understand the feelings of some men. For now there were added things to impress on one the menace of the situation, for example, there were the port and starboard propeller shafts spinning away, and now that certain noises were reduced you could hear them slicking around in the plummer blocks where the bearing surfaces were, and giving the impression of things happening unseen; the mere look at the ship's side, as if expectant of a torpedo blasting a terrific hole was to make you want to look away, but there wasn't a lot more to see! There were general service pumps for pumping out or supplying water to put fires out, or one or two other purposes, but the important thing was the boiler, in the waters we soon would be operating in this was badly needed for many purposes not the least for thawing, or conversely stopping gun positions and vital other parts, from freezing. It was required for domestic and the Sick Bay, and must be at all times efficiently working, and it married in with the Evaporators, steam so necessary here to produce fresh water, but at the expense of more vitally important fuel. We had to use these judiciously but they had to be used, it was always a problem and one could not afford to 'spoil' the resultant condensate so a careful watch had to be maintained on these. My long experience of these on the Discovery II was that it somehow became my lot now we had to use them so often in this ship. One thing which was so important was to try to get all hands to cut out such luxuries as washing, even shaving, but we know the hardest of all penalties had to be applied to the officers who would insist on a shower or even a bath at least once a day! A lot of feeling was generated when our facilities on the Lower Deck like washing clothes as well as no showers allowed and the fresh water was shut off for some hours per day, yet it was known certain officers were caught ignoring this order, until it was made punishable. It was hard luck on the engineers but could not be helped and as was said, 'They wouldn't get it in a submarine - so what's the difference?' Then it would get colder, and this aided our case, and forcibly curtailed the desire to strip but the best antidote to all this would be, once the action began, it would cut out all this stupidity.

Almost every time we looked at the convoy we anxiously took stock of where the tanker was and prayed she would be spared, for so much depended on her safety. Our first day or so out on a fairly comfortable run up to Iceland was not too bad, the destroyer screen returning one vessel at a time to take oil was very comforting because we knew that as a matter of fact the US convoy would also have their own tanker and so we had extra, but only if they survived. As it worked out the plan for this convoy seemed to be that we would join forces west of Iceland, ignore assembling as former convoys had done in Hvalfjord, or Rekyavik, where naturally German agents were placed, and be shadowed by our own large units somewhere adjacent to us but out of sight, also out of range of the Focke-Wolf Condors until the alteration of course brought us south to the White Sea. This was the largest convoy yet sent to Russia, and as such, demanded the strongest escort. Only a strong objection to take big units into the Barents Sea, too adjacent to the German threat of shore-based torpedo bombers, etc., forced them to consider it would not have the desired effect of drawing out 'Tirpitz' or who else was in N. Norway. Hitler would never contest the Allied fleet waiting for a big battle, it was too much of a gamble, a large convoy was a glittering prize but the loss of his pride and joy - all the while it could rust at anchor - was too much to contend with. The ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ Fleet thus had to extend an almost continual beat from Iceland in a giant arc passing just south of Spitzbergen to approach Novaya Zamblya for it was now known how this latter once taboo country could afford shelter/bases for U boats. We had these snippets of information passed to us now and again, as crumbs of comfort, for the strange thing is that the Lower Deck has an uncanny ability to 'work things out for themselves'. Unerringly near the truth at times it was by natural more than conveyed information a lot of conclusions were reached to the astonishment of the Wardroom, especially those of us who had earlier experience of so much, now to be seen how valuable it was, so it was no small wonder you could be asked certain things at times by those, who on other occasions, would ignore you!
end of part 2
See part 3 of the story on the site..........

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