|
|
Date of Arrival
|
Place
|
Date of Departure
|
Orders, Remarks
etc |
4.1.42
|
Murmansk
|
? |
|
12.1.42 |
|
|
BRAMBLE, Hebe and
Hazard rendezvoused with PQ7 and brought this convoy into Murmansk
|
24.1.42 |
Harrier and Speedwell form part of eastern local
escort for QP6 (6 ships) from 24/1 until 25/1. BRAMBLE and Hebe joined
on 25/1 along with the cruiser Trinidad and the destroyer Somali, and
remained until 28/1 when the convoy dispersed. |
31.1.42
|
Scapa
|
5.2.42
|
1/2
From C in C Home Fleet: Concur
From
HM Admiralty: Vessel to be taken in hand for arcticising and
concurrent refit by Greenwells of Sunderland at earliest possible
date. |
7.2.42
|
Sunderland
|
11.4.42
|
7/2
From FO i/c: BRAMBLE is being taken in hand at Greenwells Sunderland,
completes 21/2.
12/3
Provisional date of completion will be 10/4
From
March 14 1942 until March 21 1942 was Warships Week and the people
of Aireborough raised £140,000 to 'pay' for BRAMBLE. Captain Crombie
and members of the crew visited the town, presenting a plaque to the
Aireborough Savings Committee (which can still be seen
in
Saint Oswald's Church, Guiseley).
(A memorial service was held at Saint Oswald's after the loss of
Bramble and her crew.)
|
Photos Source: ADM 176/873
Date of Arrival
|
Place
|
Date of Departure
|
Orders, Remarks
etc |
11.4.42
|
Tyne |
12.4.42
|
|
13.4.42
|
Scapa
|
23.4.42
|
15/4
From RA (D) Home Fleet:- It is anticipated that S.O. 1st MS
in BRAMBLE with Seagull will be available to escort PQ15 from
Reykjavik
.
!7/4 Kenneth George
Edge, Sick Berth Attendant, died age 25
Received 22nd April 1942
Proceed with BRAMBLE, Leda
and Seagull passing Switha 1300 tomorrow Thursday to Hvalfjord routed
through position 58.49N, 06.59W , thence direct to Reykjames passage.
BRAMBLE, Leda and Seagull will act as escort to Convoy PQ15. |
|
Source: ADM 199/721
Report of Proceedings Period 23rd April
to 5th May 1942 (Extract)
From: The Rear Admiral Commanding, 10th
Cruiser Squadron
Date: 6th May
1942 No.217/0608
To: The Commander in Chief, Home
Fleet
The following report of proceedings is
submitted:
2. In accordance with your signal times 1503/22nd
April, HMS Nigeria, wearing my flag, sailed from Scapa pm 23rd
April to Hvalfiord, preparatory to covering the passage of convoy
PQ15 to North Russia.
3. During the passage to Iceland the weather was
fine and clear enabling A/S air patrols to be flown.
4. The Captain, 1st Minesweeping
Flotilla, in Bramble (with Leda and Seagull in company) was met on
passage and I instructed him to increase speed in order that he
might reach Hvalfiord in time to attend the Convoy Conference. As
Senior Officer of the Close Escort it was most important that he
should be present and as a result of proceeding at best speed he was
able to arrive soon after the conference had started.
5. I consider that on every occasion it is
essential to the security of the convoy that Commanding Officers of
the Convoy Escorts should attend this conference and have requested
Rear Admiral (D) to sail future escorts accordingly....
|
25.4.42
|
Iceland
|
26.4.42 |
26/4
BRAMBLE (Captain J H F Crombie DSO RN and Senior Officer Escort) with
Leda and Seagull left Iceland as part escort to PQ15 (50 ships) |
26.4.42 |
PQ15 sailed from
Reykjavik on 26/4 with BRAMBLE, Leda and Seagull as part escort. |
2.5.42 |
Heavy escort left
the convoy and Capt J Crombie of HMS BRAMBLE became senior officer of
the escort.
CLICK HERE for Bramble's Report on
Convoy PQ15
At 2009 Seagull
(Lt Commander Pollock) with the destroyer St Albans attacked and
brought to the surface a submarine later identified as the out of
position Polish submarine Jastrzab. She was sunk by gunfire.
(See 'Seagull 1942' for details) |
3.5.42 |
At 0127 convoy
PQ15 was attacked by 6 He111’s at low level, sinking 3 merchant ships
with their torpedoes. 137 survivors were picked up. Three aircraft
were shot down.
At 2230 the convoy
was bombed by Ju88’s scoring one near miss for the loss of one
aircraft. |
4.5.42 |
In the evening a
south-easterly gale blew up off the Russian mainland, filling the air
with snow clouds and concealing the convoy. |
5.5.42 |
2100
BRAMBLE arrived Kola Inlet with PQ15. |
MESSAGE 2300/B 5th May 1942
From SO 1st M S Flotilla
PQ15 arrived Murmansk. Regret to
report loss of Botavon, Jutland, Cape Corso as a result of attack by
six torpedo aircraft at 2327 May 2nd in position 73N, 19.40E. Attack
carried out in good conditions and aircraft appeared to be led in
well by leader who may not have carried torpedo. Indications that
shadowing submarine may have surfaced and fired torpedoes at same
time. One aircraft destroyed and possibly one other. 136 survivors
including Commodore. Convoy bombed at 2230 May 3rd in position 73N,
31.51E. Minor damage from near miss to Cape Palliser only. One
Junkers 88 shot down. Attack badly carried out and hampered by low
cloud. Convoy continuously shadowed by one or more aircraft and or
one or more submarines to 36E. Submarines driven off successfully by
screening force forcing them to dive and firing depth charges in
vicinity. |
Date of Arrival |
Location |
Date of Departure |
Orders, Remarks etc |
? |
Kola Inlet
|
21.5.42 |
|
21.5.42 |
At sea |
23.5.42 |
Eastern Local Escort for QP12 comprised BRAMBLE, Gossamer, Leda,
Seagull and two Russian Destroyers. Harrier was part of the ocean
escort arriving Reykjavik 29/5 without incident. |
29.5.42 |
On
the evening of 29/5, 140 miles NE of the Kola Inlet, Captain Crombie
commanding the 1st MSF based at Kola joined convoy PQ16 in
HMS BRAMBLE, together with Leda, Seagull, Niger, Hussar and Gossamer.
The convoy divided and at 2330 Crombie’s section, escorting six of the
merchant ships to Archangel, was attacked by 15 Ju88’s while 18
attacked the Murmansk-bound ships. |
30.5.42 |
Crombie’s
division, proceeding in line ahead and led by the Empire Elgar,
arrived at the estuary of the Dvina on 30/5 where it met the ice
breaker Stalin. They began a passage through the ice lasting 40 hours.
Confined to the narrow lead cut by the Stalin, they were attacked by
Ju87 Stukas in a noisy but useless attack. This section of PQ16
passed Archangel and secured alongside at Bakarista, a new wharf two
miles upstream. |
|
The soviet icebreakers Krassin and Montcalm were escorted to Archangel
by HMS BRAMBLE, Leda, Hazard and Seagull. HMS Intrepid and Garland
were sailed later to act as cover against possible surface attack. The
whole force arrived at Archangel on 21st June. |
21.6.42
|
Murmansk
|
|
Escorted soviet Icebreakers to Archangel
with
Leda, Hazard and Seagull. |
26.6.42 |
At
sea |
|
26/6
BRAMBLE, Hazard, Leda and Seagull (left 28/6) provide local escort for
departing QP13 (36 ships). Niger and Hussar were also included as
through escort. |
29.6.42 |
|
|
The
tanker Hopemount sailed for Port Dickson with a heavy escort of two
icebreakers and nine other escorts including BRAMBLE, Hazard, and
Seagull. At the edge of the icepack the escorts turned back leaving
Hopemount and the icebreakers to continue towards the Pacific by the
northern route, fuelling soviet escorts and merchant ships, turning
back on 18/9. |
30.6.42
|
Archangel
|
? |
At
67.27N, 41.20E HM Ships BRAMBLE and Seagull carried out a successful
attack on a U-boat. CLICK
HERE
to see report.
BRAMBLE and Leda rounded up and escorted survivors of PQ17 into
Archangel, arriving 11/7 |
11.7.42
|
Dvina Bar
|
? |
|
22.7.42 |
BRAMBLE, Hazard,
Leda and four other ships met some of the surviving ships from PQ17
and escorted them into Archangel, arriving on the evening of 24/7.
|
|
|
Source:
Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
…..just before we
reached the juncture of the White Sea with the Dvina
River, we were met by the BRAMBLE, the flotilla leader of fleet
minesweepers based on North Russia.
We
knew nothing yet of their magnificent work, and like many other
introductions (and first impressions) this nearly went astray. Her
Captain hailed us in what seemed to our sensitive ears a rather
patronizing voice. "What was your bag?" As though we were just
returning from the moors after a pleasant day's shooting, to a log
fire, and buttered toast, and whisky and soda for those who liked
their tea that way. Bag. Bag. Bag. How could we explain the price of
every plane we had brought down to someone who hadn't been there? It
was all very well when Halcyon signalled earlier, 'Junkers
shooting is in season'. She was one of us. Whose was this
imperative, so pusser voice?
It
belonged to someone who later became my friend and ally, Captain
Harvey Crombie, DSO. I visited his home in Hampshire only last
week‑end and yarned till long after midnight about the bare‑faced
landscape of North Russia, and we smiled a little ruefully at some
of our memories, but most of all that I should have so hated that
morning the first sound of his voice through a loud‑hailer:
especially when he went on to inform us, laconically, that a pilot
to take us down the river might appear in five hours, five days,
five years. Of course, he was only trying to break in the new boys
gently. But we were past jokes. We wanted only one thing at that
moment: the curtain to come down on this Act.
HMS BRAMBLE during PQ17 (Godfrey Winn)
|
|
25.7.42
|
Dvina
|
29.7.42
|
|
|
|
Godfrey Winn was a regular visitor
to the wardrooms of the other ships in North Russia while waiting
for a return voyage to the UK. Many of his observations and
reminiscences about BRAMBLE give a rare first-hand insight into both
the men and the conditions in North Russia and are
therefore reproduced below in detail:
...Now
it was Captain Harvey Crombie, who was speaking. "We have been out
here nearly a year; we have, I think, shown the Russians that we
mean business and are a competent flotilla, but the situation
doesn't change as regards personal relationships. There is an iron
curtain, and I warn you seriously against any attempt to pass behind
it. Indeed, I think you were lucky to get away with it on shore
yesterday, for it may interest you to know, Winn, that not long ago
I was arrested myself and spent a very uncomfortable six hours in
the local lock‑up."
My
own Captain (of the Pozarica), being of equal rank with the speaker, looked suitably
shaken by this admission. "Not too much vodka, I hope?"
"No, but that reminds me when you go to one of their parties, as
you're bound to do, your only hope of survival is to eat masses of
butter between each glass of the stuff. I was told the tip, and it
really does serve as insulation. You'll have to drink whether you
want to or not, because if you don't, they think you're a sissy. To
them the height of hospitality is to get you under the table, and
that's the only kind of fraternization they will tolerate, the
Services getting together en masse ‑ no women, of course ‑
and believe me it can be an awful headache as most of us found last
winter at Murmansk. He put down his glass and lit another cigarette.
"You see, after the party is over, you're back exactly where you
were before. It hasn't advanced the general position at all. You're
no nearer understanding each other on the ordinary level. I'll give
you an example of what I mean. A tiny incident, but in its way more
revealing than whole books that could be written on the subject of
Anglo‑Soviet relations. Whenever I went ashore at Polyarnoe, I used
to wear galoshes, and one day I lost one of them in a snow drift. I
forgot all about it, produced another pair, and then months later,
when the thaw set in, I was summoned one day to the presence of
their Admiral, who informed me, through the interpreter, that
something of mine had been found. He sounded so serious I thought
some piece of damning evidence was about to be laid on the table
between us. Instead it was my galosh that had turned rip! But
they didn't think it a bit funny. Not a smile. Only at their
'blinds', after several hours of steady drinking, will you get a
flicker of recognition that we are all human beings made to a
similar pattern, fighting a common battle together, and both up
against it badly at the moment. So my advice to you, Lawford, is eat
butter ... but don't talk butter. Don't mince words. When I first
arrived, I found they knew about as much about the technical side of
minesweeping as the man in the moon, but I soon discovered that they
respect you if you make a bloody row. They think you are in earnest
which, God knows, we are. They have no use for soft soap diplomacy
and I respect them for that, but all the same ...”
"You'd prefer them not to chuck you into cells!"
"Oh
yes, of course, I started to tell you about that. Well, the other
day we organized a flotilla regatta here in the river. You know the
kind of thing. Whaler races and so forth. Anything to try and keep
the men happy as the leave situation is so tricky. Well, I changed
into mufti, as one does, to make things a little more free and easy,
and after watching the show I went for my usual evening walk, when
we are in harbour, along the wood‑piles. I'd done it the night
before, I did it the night afterwards, but would you believe it, I
had hardly got out of sight of the ship's moorings, when a young
Soviet sentry ‑ I should think he was about sixteen ‑ popped out on
me from behind the wood‑piles and arrested me on the spot. Of course
I produced all my paraphernalia, but it was no use. I was not in
uniform. Passes meant nothing to him, he couldn't read. So he
proceeded to march me off at the point of his bayonet and I was shut
up in a filthy little room while, presumably, the Commissar was sent
for. I thought at first: best to stay quiet, they can't keep me here
long . . . but in the end after several hours of flapdoodle, my
patience vanished, I completely lost my temper and gave them a full
calibre shot, which immediately produced results. That's what I mean
about standing up to them, because don't imagine that soft words and
sweet smiles will cure them of this ingrained suspicion and distrust
towards us.
Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
|
29.7.42 |
The tanker
Hopemount sailed for Port Dickson with a heavy escort of two
icebreakers and 9 other escorts including BRAMBLE, Hazard, and
Seagull. At the edge of the icepack the escorts turned back leaving
Hopemount and the icebreakers to continue towards the Pacific by the
northern route, fuelling soviet escorts and merchant ships, turning
back on 18/9. |
|
Captain Crombie said “…I hope most sincerely, for your sake, that
you will not be stuck here long. Otherwise you'll be adopting
favourite verse as your signature tune, also:
“Let us then be up and doing
With a heart for any fate
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour‑and learn to bloody well wait."
I
could tell from the twinkle in his eye that the emphasis he put on
the last line was meant to dissolve the seriousness of the
discussion into laughter: part of the man and his make‑up: part of
many Englishmen and their make‑up: part of a refusal to allow any
conditions, however trying, to destroy your sense of balance, your
ironic delight in self‑mockery as an aseptic corrective to any
tendency towards sermonizing. I think it was at that moment that my
respect and admiration for them all was born ‑ this little group of
exiles, whose work had been completely unpublicized ‑ even as I
realized that in an hour's talk not one word had been said to
suggest the extreme severity of their own life out there, their
living conditions during the long months of complete darkness, when
it was a commonplace for the thermometer to register between
eighty and ninety degrees of frost. True, it was summer at last ‑ a
brief few, weeks ‑ and there was daylight, but another winter lay
over the horizon, and as though he sensed the questions hovering on
my lips, Captain Crombie added quickly: "Now, you're a literary fella. Perhaps you can tell us the author of that quotation?"
"What, of the last line?" I countered, not wanting to commit myself.
(Longfellow or?)
“Oh, we all wrote that didn't we?" he said smiling, and
including the other guests seated round the table, especially the
commanders of such of the First and Sixth Flotillas of fleet
minesweepers which happened to be alongside at that moment. All
those who found themselves chance neighbours so far from home had
come in a body to pay their respects and sign their names in the
visitors' book of the Pozarica's Captain, and I was looking
through the book the other day to make sure who had been there that
evening ‑ Lt. H. J. Hall, Lotus ... Lt. Boyd,Poppy . . . Lt. Rankin,
Dianella . . . Lt. Bidwell, La... Lt. Wathen, Lord
Austin ... Banning, Rathlin, Master and one of them had
added “PQ17, Novaya Zemlya, and Ekonomia, and quite enough!" ‑ but,
in the end, after much reminiscent search, I could only be certain
that the three signatures which came to mean most to me personally
during our incarceration in North Russia were those of the
commanders of the Leda, Halcyon, and Hazard.
Three very different types of men: Seymour of Hazard, who had
just been awarded his brass hat, possessing an aquiline profile and
a passion for the R.N. that made his ship a model of efficiency and
his manner at first slightly intimidating till one came to
appreciate that if you are compelled by Service obligations to spend
years of your life, first in China, then in North Russia, it is as
well to adopt a creed of self‑sufficiency: Wynne‑Edwards, ruddy
cheeked, hospitable, warm‑hearted, whose ship, Leda, became
such a second home to me out there that I cannot even now think of
her and her crew without my heart contracting: and finally
Corbett‑Singleton of Halcyon, like a huge sheep‑dog with a
shy, sleepy manner, that did not prevent him from winning a double
D.S.C. in the course of the war, or from sending ‑ a lightning flash
of relieving humour - my favourite signal of the whole voyage. Just
as the news had been passed from ship to ship that our convoy had to
scatter, he hoisted, "Now I know what the Itie fleet feel like!"
Now
I know myself, because I have made it my concern to sort it all out,
something of the exploits of these two flotillas that first became
discs on the operational maps when they commenced their shuttle
service, accompanying the second convoy to make the trip through the
Barents Sea. That was in October, 1941, the flotilla leader,
BRAMBLE, was there, and from that time on no convoy made the
journey either way without at least two or three of this
small group as part of their escort the whole voyage. I, think it
was only when I found myself, later, a member of the crew of the
Cumberland serving in those same waters, in winter, that I
became in the least degree cognizant of what it must have been like
for ships, by comparison so tiny, facing exactly the same hazards,
with an inevitably minute proportion of the same resources to combat
not only the ravages of the weather but all the other dangers that
surrounded them.
On
one of their cabin walls I found hung up a kind of Christmas card
with an enscrolled text. Oh God, be good to me, because Thy sea
is so large, and my ship is so small. I did not fully understand
the need for this prayer when I first explored the living space of
these ships: the wardroom was pleasantly spacious, the Captain's
cabin on the upper deck compared favourably with the one I had come
to know so well: yes, I was told, there is room enough below for
every man to sling his hammock: but ... that admission on the cabin
wall came to have a new meaning for me when I asked Captain
Sherbrooke, who won the V.C. for the manner in which he brought yet
another convoy through to Russia, at the end of 1942, if he could
give me any details of the loss of the BRAMBLE that had been
with him at the time when four enemy cruisers came into the attack.
It happened we were fellow guests at lunch, the next summer, in the
panelled dining‑room of a country house, so far removed in
atmosphere from the action of this book. But I had to be sure if
there was anything more to know than that she was swallowed up with
all hands in the blackness of the winter's night. My neighbour
looked away towards the windows and the massed herbaceous borders,
flowering in all their beauty and all their colour that you miss so
dreadfully at sea. He shook his head and then added slowly, "No,
there was just a sudden flash of light on the horizon and that was
all . . ."
…..
It must be put on record, too, that the Russians possessed none of
the latest minesweeping gear, and even if they had, were not
sufficiently sea‑animals to employ it properly without supervision.
They had to be taught about degaussing, magnetic mines, Oropesa
sweeps. And while the teaching went on the sweeping went on also.
Indeed, if it had not been for our flotilla's efforts, the White Sea
would have been quite impassable to allied shipping and the Northern
route would have been closed for the duration. Just to keep the
channels clear of the constant mine‑dropping aircraft sorties was a
whole‑time job, under reasonable conditions. But the conditions were
not reasonable. Pack ice a hundred feet high was a commonplace the
more vicious battle was with the elements. As for the darkness, for
nine months in the year it was as much their waking as their
sleeping companion. "For your sake, I hope you will not be stuck
here long." M.S.1, as he will always be known to every man under
his command, had spoken those words in his usual pusser voice,
without emotion, without feeling though I do not doubt he was
visualising another winter's approach just round the bend of the
river. We were temporary visitors against the wood‑piles: their
ships were fast becoming part of the barren landscape, and though
they refused to allow the darkness and the isolation to diminish
their morale, they could not prevent the perpetual night from
playing strange tricks with their eyesight and inducing a physical
lassitude. This they fought by deliberately increasing their time at
sea, until their knowledge of "local conditions" was such that when
the sailed forth to meet the incoming convoy, the senior naval
officer in charge would always have the sense and the faith to allow
M.S.1 to lead the merchant ships his own way into harbour, even if
it entailed a detour into the ice as the safest protection against
the stepped‑up attacks of the German subs, now finding the Barents
Sea a more profitable hunting ground than the Atlantic. The
BRAMBLE's captain drew attention to his galoshes: the reason for
the DSO ribbon on his tunic I had to discover for myself. And I
discovered, too, how far from infallible first impressions can be.
As it happened, in our case, through the scattering of the convoy,
we were far down into White Sea before we had our first meeting.
Otherwise I should doubtless have had a different reaction to that
laconic, casually shouted greeting of, "What was your bag?"
Source: Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
|
? |
Dvina
/ Archangel
|
22.8.42
|
During August the sweepers’ duties included a nightly watch for mines
dropped by enemy planes. |
23.8.42
|
Kola Inlet
|
24.8.42
|
HMS BRAMBLE (MS1), Seagull,
Hazard, Salamander, Blankney, and Middleton arrived from Archangel at
2300 on 23rd August bringing about 402 survivors with them including
30 hospital cases.
On account of the
increasing air activity in the Kola Inlet, the prospect of having
these ships here was not one that I enjoyed. Their arrival was timed
for the darkest part of the night (it is still light enough to read a
newspaper between 2300 and 0100 in clear weather) when German air
activity was at its lowest, allowing the safe transfer of survivors
and stores. After completing their
transfers the four Halcyon minesweepers moved out to
'hide' under Kildin Island before daylight.
Report of SBNO North
Russia Aug 1942 |
|
…"Do you think you could rake up a tin of any sort that is
different, for lunch?" He (the captain of the Pozarica) didn't care
for himself. It was the only time he ever asked, but he had Admiral
Bevan coming to see him. The S.0.N.R. had turned over his command to
Admiral Fisher, and was waiting transport home, resting meanwhile,
an anonymous guest ‑ if you can be anonymous with all that gold
braid‑in one of our own merchant ships, lying at Ekonomia.
I
passed him coming towards our ship. A man with grey hair and a
sensitive, gentle face. He looked very tired, I thought. I was going
out to lunch, too. M.S.1 had invited me to take "pot luck" and I was
wondering all the way along the quayside what the main dish would
be. It turned out to be bully beef fritters!
"How's Admiral Bevan going home?" I asked M.S.1 (Captain Crombie)
with a sigh.
“They're sending a Catalina for him."
"I
wish there was room for me in the plane."
The
words slipped out involuntarily and the next instant I was ashamed
of them. My host was looking at me keenly with his very blue eyes.
He seemed about to make a suggestion and then changed his mind. "I
suppose you find it rather difficult with so much time on your hands
and nothing to do.”
"Very." Then, in case he should misunderstand the one curt
monosyllable, I added: "I love the Pozy and all the people in her
more than I shall ever love any ship, but when we're alongside like
this, week after week, I don't feel I fit in –“ I was going to say
"belong" but altered the word at the last minute " ‑ as I do when we
are at sea. Besides, I am Iong overdue for the
Ganges.
I've probably been posted as a deserter now. And I've got this big
story."
“For your newspaper?"
“For the Admiralty, too. An eye‑witness account. After all, I am a
reporter."
He
nodded, judiciously, a captain sifting the evidence at ‘Defaulters'.
Off Caps. I was very conscious of the defensive note in my voice and
looked away, about the cabin, at the usual set of photos on the
writing‑desk, in the usual sort of Asprey frames. Only in this case
the wife was young, and the children were still small. And unlike
the other cabin there was a copy of The Times laid out, too,
which I picked up later, when we were having our coffee. To my
surprise it was dated long before our sailing from Belfast. As
though he could sense what was in my mind, my host said quietly:
"When the mail does I arrive ‑ and for obvious reasons there has
been quite a gap lately ‑ hand over the whole bundle of Times
to my steward and Jones then brings me one with my breakfast
every morning. You know there is not really much difference. The
correspondence column is the same and the fourth leaders have been
better than ever lately."
"I
don't know how you all stick it out here," I blurted out. M.S.1
raised his eyebrows. It was a gesture of some formidableness for
they were very bushy ones. He was a man of about forty with a big
head which dominated his body. You could not imagine somehow his
ever having been of lesser rank .. a midshipman, fresh from
Dartmouth, joining his first ship, the Q.E. But it had been
emphasized by my new friends in the flotilla how popular M.S.1 was
with the men under his command. He only barks when he really means
it, they said. And a matlow likes that, I was to learn later: what
he hates is what P. O. Hynes called "flannel".
“ I
mean, the monotony must be so awful," I added, watching the eyebrows
with some apprehension. "You forget, Winn, that your matlow is the
most adaptable creature in the world. I don't care to what country
he belongs. It is something in a sailor's blood. Look how they have
transformed the quayside here in a moment. You see, they are used to
long periods of exile, in peacetime, too. 'Going foreign', we call
it. And yet however foreign to their way of life is the corner of
the seven seas in which they find themselves, still somehow they
manage to preserve their own personality, and come up smiling,
clean, and good‑tempered."
Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
|
25.8.42
|
Archangel
|
? |
|
12.9.42 |
“…
You are sailing about noon. I did not tell you before, in case it
fell through.” (Captain of Pozarica)
An
operation was pending. The American cruiser Tuscaloosa was due to
reach Kola Inlet that night, to take back as many of the wounded and
survivors as possible….
“M.S.1 and I put our heads together as soon as we heard. I did not
want to raise your hopes too soon, but he is to be Senior Officer of
the operation this end, his flotilla is helping to take all the
passengers up from Archangel to Kola, and he very sportingly has
offered to try to find you, if possible, too. It’s a gamble of
course. Every ship going home is bound to be dangerously
overcrowded.”
It
was a calm and beautiful afternoon: by far the most pleasant day
since our arrival at Ekonomia: gone, the molten sky: gone the low
cloud‑level, pressing ever down upon the pulses at our temples:
there was real blue in the heavens and the river, even when it
broadened out into the White Sea, remained as placid as the upper
reaches of the Thames. Once again a day for “getting brown for
leave", and the decks of the BRAMBLE were crowded with an
assortment of Merchant Navy personnel first and second officers
mostly, but dressed in shipwrecked, scarecrow clothes that concealed
all rank. But nothing could conceal their deep spring of excitement
to be at sea again and sailing in the right direction. They crammed
themselves together against the rails of the quarter‑deck, just
chewing the prospects ahead, and stripping down to the waist, many
of them, as though the touch of the sea‑air against their skins had
in itself some magical quality that would cleanse their minds as
well as their bodies of all the squalor of the bread line.
I
squeezed down in a corner against a bollard and closed my eyes. You
learnt that in war: to sleep while the going was good. I do not know
how long I had been in a semi‑conscious, drifting state when I must
have felt that someone was standing between me and the warmth of the
sun. I looked up, and there was the Captain's secretary, a boy with
bright gold hair and the face of an undergraduate in his first year
at Oxford.
"Hello, Culley. Does M.S.1 want me?"
"No, but he asked me to give you this. It's something he said when
he spoke to all the flotilla one Sunday when they were in harbour
together."
David Culley squatted beside me and took off his naval tunic, to
sunbathe, too. Now in his open tennis shirt and grey flannel
trousers he was an undergraduate, even to the small leather book in
his hand which he opened and I was so curious to know its contents
that I forgot about the piece of paper till much later.
"Do
you read much poetry?" I asked.
“I
do, as a matter of fact. It makes the dog‑watches pass more quickly,
out here. I even try to write a bit. I know most of A Shropshire
Lad by heart," he went on quickly. “ Actually I come from that
part of the country myself.”
“The Cotswolds ?"
"Yes"
“So
did I originally. It's wonderful, unforgettable country, isn’t it?
Do you know the view from the top of the hill above Broadway as well
as from Bredon? How many counties is it you are supposed to be able
to see there ... eight ? ... I always forget but I keep on promising
myself to go back there ... as soon as ...all this... is over."
"So
must I," he said simply…
…
“I could not help remembering that moment with the sun on his face
and his shining hair and the red‑leathered pocket volume open on his
lap, when months later they told me that the BRAMBLE had been
swallowed up in the black winter's night, with all hands, and then
it came to me how I should have quoted instead lines that he would
have recognised at once.
"Life to be sure is nothing much to lose,
But
young men think it is and we were young."
But in another way I am glad I didn't, for he was so splendidly
certain that everything was going to be all right, and his optimism
was a crown…
…."Do you think we shall have a flap tonight?" I asked.
"With bombing, do you mean?"
"Yes, any sort of flap."
"I
hope not for the sake of the wounded. Personally, I've got a hunch
it's going to pass off like a picnic
His
hunch was right; everything went off to plan, with one tiny
exception. At the hour of the rendezvous, the Tuscaloosa stood in
to Kola, and all night long the transferring went on and I thought:
one of those stretcher cases is Jimmy Campbell But everything was
dim and faint and muffled in the darkness. The still night: the
mountains, guarding the inlet: the faint silhouettes of the ships:
the flashing of the code signals: the passengers and the crew,
intermingled, so many shapes, taut padlocked, waiting for the final
moment. As usual, I was astonished by the precision with which the
operation was carried out: not a voice raised, not a single mishap
within the range of one's vision. (Such manoeuvres always look so
easy on paper.) The minesweepers had to come alongside the
destroyers, who, in their turn, had to slide under the bows of the
cruiser. Yet the distances were judged with the correctness of a
daylight exercise. But before daylight came, we must be gone. Hadn't
the Gossamer been sunk here only two months before? I was
glad enough when it looked like being my turn to pass over the
gangway' a human parcel being sent by Passenger Goods, one step
farther on my way.
BRAMBLE's
No.
1, Lt‑Commander Benson, came up, peering over the side. He
had been superbly efficient the whole night, and I was not surprised
to hear soon afterwards that he had been given his Brass Hat, one of
the few R.N.V.R. officers to achieve such a distinction.
"What's her name?" I asked, in a stage whisper that was quite
unnecessary, but by this time one was completely caught up in the
smuggling atmosphere.
"I'm not sure. She's American."
"American? Good God, they won't want me on board."
"Well we can't chase our own destroyers round the inlet let. There
isn't time. Didn't you see her Captain come over the side? He's down
with M.S.1 now. American ships are dry you know, and M.S.1 is giving
him a drink. I reminded him that a few tins of American peaches
wouldn't come amiss. Trust M.S.1 to put it over, if he can.‑“
Indeed, I did trust M.S.1. You couldn't help doing so. All the same,
I waited in a mounting sweat of anxiety. Should l burst in on them
and produce as a trump card the fact that I had an American
grandmother from Boston, Massachusetts? Should I tell the story of
how an English sea‑captain, sworn to celibacy, sailed across the
Atlantic and brought home with him a bride on his next voyage? I
wouldn't care if I never saw another Californian peach as long as I
live (I, too, swore to myself), if only ...
I
need not have made any such rash promise. Indeed, I got the peaches,
too. And so did the BRAMBLE, who passed some of the windfall,
I believe, on to the Pozy so that quite a few of the people in this
book had cause to be grateful to Commander Mitchell of the U.S.
Destroyer Rodman.
……….And I was left, too, with the scrap of paper M.S.1 had given me,
as a memento of so many things…. This was on the piece of paper.
“We
have in the Navy a unique expression. We talk about a ship being in
good order. It means discipline of the right sort, it means giving
of service which means more from the heart than the head, it means
happiness, it means integrity, it means modesty, it means courage
and selflessness.”
Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
|
13.9.42 |
Britomart,
Halcyon, Hazard and Salamander joined QP14 from Archangel as local
eastern escort. The ocean escort included BRAMBLE, Seagull (until
26/9) and Leda (sunk on 20/9). The weather was poor during the convoy,
which finally reached Loch Ewe on 26/9 having lost 4 merchantmen and
two escorts. |
|
Report of Commanding
Officer HMS BRAMBLE Senior Officer of the Close Escort
(extracts)
The wind moderated in
the afternoon and with the assistance of Russian tugs the convoy
assembled successfully and weighed and proceeded at 1600 on 13th
September. Passage through the White Sea was without incident and in
fine weather. |
15.9.42 |
The first incident of note was at
0730 on 15th September when a Ju 88 commenced shadowing the convoy.
The convoy at this time was being escorted by two Russian fighters and
it was hoped that they would shoot down, or any way drive off this
shadower. They appeared, however, not to see her, in spite of crossing
and re-crossing at what looked like very close range to each other.
Every endeavour was made to call the attention of these fighters to
this shadower by V/S but without effect; eventually the British Naval
Liaison Officer in the Russian destroyer Uritsi reported that they
were unable to communicate with their fighters. HMS Middleton then
fired one round in the direction of the shadower. This, as I feared,
had exactly the opposite effect to that intended, and the Russian
fighters disappeared home, probably complaining that they had been
fired at.
Report
of Commanding Officer HMS BRAMBLE
|
16.9.42 |
During the following day the convoy was
constantly shadowed in daylight hours.The convoy made good speed and
with the prevailing current I realised that we were ahead of the
estimated position signalled by the SBNO, North Russia. On the other
hand we were not ahead of schedule based on the C in C Home Fleet's
message of 12th September.
During the afternoon of the 16th
September the weather started to deteriorate and the visibility to
decrease and I realised that these factors combined with the errors in
position would make contact difficult unless I reported the position
of QP14. Not wishing to break wireless silence I delayed making my
signal by R/T until I felt certain that the two forces were close
enough for reception to be certain. The signal reporting my position
and speed was made at 1515 on the 16th September. The weather
continued to deteriorate during the night and the convoy got a little
scattered. I ordered HMS Seagull to return along the track of the
convoy and round up SS Winston Salem and Silver Sword. SS Troubadour
had been a very early straggler and the Commodore had decided not to
wait for her.
Report of Commanding
Officer HMS BRAMBLE
|
16.9.42 |
It
is snowing hard this morning. We have been spotted by a Dornier and
unless the weather favours us, I guess we will all be standing by.
Source:
Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine, another of QP14's
escorts |
17.9.42 |
The Rear
Admiral (D) Home Fleet was sighted at 0517 17th September and after
the other destroyers had joined an A/S screen was formed in which HMS
BRAMBLE took one of the positions on the port bow of the convoy.
Report of Commanding
Officer HMS BRAMBLE
|
18.9.42 |
The decks are covered with ice and snow, and it is blowing a gale.
We took on oil from one of the tankers, this was done while under
way. Some of the seamen were brought in with their jaws frozen up.
It is icy-cold in the engine room. I have been so long without a
good meal I don't think I shall be able to eat one now. We passed
the island of Good Hope tonight.
Source:
Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine |
19.9.42 |
We are
running alongside Spitzbergen today. It is all covered in snow and
ice. I am glad that I live in the U.K. We are being shadowed by German aircraft all the time.
Source:
Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine |
20.9.42 |
The weather during
the passage of the convoy was poor. At 0530 on the morning of the 20th,
U435 (Strelow) torpedoed Leda which was at the rear of the convoy.
Later that day another escort (HMS Somali) and a merchantman were
torpedoed. |
21.9.42 |
BRAMBLE picked up
a U boat on her Asdic but was frustrated by the release of a
‘Pillenwerfer’ – compressed gas – by the submarine. |
22.9.42 |
0530 Three
merchant ships were sunk by U435, including one with the previously
rescued Commodore Dowding who was picked up by Seagull where he
remained. |
24.9.42 |
A gale hit the
convoy but it abated on the 25th leaving the convoy
struggling southwards in a heavy swell. |
26.9.42 |
BRAMBLE and
Seagull left the convoy for Scapa. |
26.9.42
|
Scapa
|
3.10.42
|
27/9
BRAMBLE has collision damage Port side of foc'sle stove in from stem
to 30ft aft in collision |
|
'BRAMBLE came back to England Oct/Nov 1942 and to add one injustice
upon another, as she was approaching Scapa Flow she was hit by one of
our own destroyers who gouged a large section of the side of the ship
out, fortunately above the water line. No casualties. This necessitated a court marshal sitting in Scapa Flow at which
Captain Crombie attended. He was completely exonerated of blame but
the captain of the other ship was found guilty of 'dangerous driving'!
BRAMBLE went into dry dock and extensive repairs and modernisation
took place like the fitting of the latest anti submarine devices and
extra guns to combat the air attacks.
'
Source:Rodbourn
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/U597628 |
4.10.42
|
Humber
|
5.11.42
|
6/10
BRAMBLE taken in hand by Humber Shipwright Co, Hull
for
damage repairs and refit. Provisional date of completion 16/11.
14/10 Date of completion now 30/11 |
7.11.42
|
Scapa
|
? |
|
|
|
…..Commander Wynne-Edwards (of the recently sunk HMS Leda) turned up
too, not looking in the least like a survivor who, a fortnight before,
had been clinging to a Carley float, but in a brand new uniform, and
with a brand new ship awaiting his command, to take over from a Yankee
shipyard, and yes, he had equally positive news of Aarl. “He’s got
promotion. He is to be the Pilot of the BRAMBLE, when she goes back to
Russia. He’s tickled to death,” his late Captain added.
“And
what about your No.1 in the Leda?” I asked. “I suppose you’ve heard
he’s made it with his girl in Aberdeen. He sent me a piece of the
cake. I meant to keep it for today, but I ate it!”
“No.1
in the Leda? Oh, he’s going back on the same run too as No.1 in the
BRAMBLE. That’s a step up for him, also. Benson is getting his brass
hat, you know. While M.S.1 is due to go to the Admiralty, as Director
of Minesweeping.”
Extracts from ‘PQ17’
by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica
|
|
16.11.42 |
Cdr H J
RUST - took command 16 Nov 1942 |
25.11.42 |
Captain Crombie and some of the crew visited Aireborough
groups and schools.
The town had raised £140,000 to buy the ship in 1939. |
21.12.42
|
Aultbea
|
22.12.42 |
|
22.12.42 |
BRAMBLE (Commander H T Rust, Senior Officer of close escort) was part
of the escort for JW51B from Loch Ewe to North Russia, leaving 22/12. The convoy met bad weather |
|
|
The orders were from
Admiral Tovey and said:
‘Convoy
JW 51B 16 ships. Sail from Loch Ewe 22 December. Speed of advance 7 ½
knots routed as follows…Escort Loch Ewe, HMS BRAMBLE (S.O. M/S
Flotilla), Blankney, Ledbury, Chiddingfold, Rhodedendron, Honeysuckle,
Northern Gem and Vizalma’.
There
was, as usual, the fun of picking code names for the individual ships
and groups for use on the voice radio. Thus, BRAMBLE became
‘Prickles’…
At Loch Ewe the convoy and
escort conferences on Tuesday, 22nd December were held in a wooden
hut, and a strong wind was blowing as if to remind all present that is
was a bleak Scottish winter. In fact it was the precursor of a vicious
gale…Sherbrooke held an escort conference giving his orders to the
escorts – under Cdr. H T Rust, DSO, in the minesweeper BRAMBLE – which
would take the convoy up to position ‘C’, off Iceland, where
Sherbrooke and his destroyers would meet it and take over. Rust was an
old friend – the two men had been in the same term at Dartmouth and
each had a complete trust in each other.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope |
|
24.12.42 |
Convoy located by
German air reconnaissance and shadowed by U534. Clearing weather and a
bright yellow moon showed up the ships of the convoy. |
25.12.42 |
On Christmas day the
convoy was about 150 miles east of Seidisfiord… Admiral Tovey had
signalled earlier the day before that a westbound U-boat was nearby,
and its course must have taken it within a short distance of the
convoy…And just after the U-boat signal the Admiral had wirelessed to
Rust: Your position was probably reported by a FW aircraft at 1315.
…(In fact the aircraft did not report the convoy.)
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope |
25.12.42 |
Six destroyers
joined 150 miles east of Iceland, their commander relieving Rust as
senior officer. The convoy was closed up in four columns with BRAMBLE
and Hyderabad, both of which possessed good radar sets, were sent
ahead on either bow as pickets. Unaware of U534’s presence JW51B
passed Jan Mayen and was half way to Bear Island when the next
depression caught up with the convoy. Storm force north-westerly winds
drove a heavy sea upon the ships’ port beams, causing them to roll.
Curtains of rain and snow swept from horizon to horizon, cutting
visibility to nil. Ice formed on decks and upper works, and parties
were sent to clear it. Below the customary ingress of water in the
escorts slopped about the messdecks churning up a soup of odds and
ends, items of clothing and broken crockery, while the bulkheads and
deckheads streamed with condensation. The convoy was broken up by the
bad weather, Oribi, Vizmala and 5 merchant ships losing contact. One,
the Jefferson Myers, hove to in order to secure her deck cargo of
bombers which was threatening to break loose from its lashings.
As the light
improved and a slight moderation in the weather allowed the remaining
nine merchant ships to be reformed, Rust was sent to search for
stragglers using BRAMBLE’s superior radar. |
27.12.42 |
That
night (Sunday 27th December) the barometer started falling
slowly but with an ominous steadiness: another big depression was
rolling across the North Atlantic towards them. Then the wind got up,
first just whining in the rigging and wireless aerials. Within an hour
it was beginning to howl with high-pitched urgency, bringing fair
sized seas in its train and snow squalls which blanketed off what
little visibility there was in the darkness. It was now that station
keeping became a real nightmare… soon the wind was screaming at Force
7… spray blowing over the ships started forming ice on the decks,
rails and superstructure.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope |
28-29.12.42 |
Monday the 28th passed (with no let up in the weather).
Tuesday came, and with it even worse weather, the wind backing so that
in the early hours it was round to NNW, blowing at nearly 40 knots…The
wind…was as bitter as any the convoy crews had yet encountered. It was
knocking up waves of 18 feet high and blowing the crests off in
spindrift; dense streaks of foam laced the tumbling surface of the
waves, which were 700 feet apart and travelling at around 35 knots.
Within a short while the Daldorch, leading the port inner column,
signalled that her deck cargo had carried away. She could no longer
steer the convoy course (071°) and would steer 055°
until the weather eased. This probably misled the ships on the port
wing column, because at 0200 the trawler Vizalma, whose station was
the last ship in the port wing column, discovered that she and three
other ships were separated from the rest of the convoy. All four
merchantmen were finding it impossible to keep on the convoy course
because of the heavy seas and high wind, which forced their bows off,
so they hove to, all on different courses and all drifting off in
different directions.
Then
at noon on this vile Tuesday the weather suddenly moderated and
visibility in the half-light increased to 10 miles. Quickly the
anxious escorts looked for the convoy: it hardly existed as such:
instead of fourteen ships in four orderly columns, there were only
nine merchantmen in sight scattered all over the horizon…
By
this time anything up to three inches of ice had formed on the ships.
As they were, in their sheath of ice, the escorts were no longer
fighting machines…
Captain Sherbrooke’s problem was to find the missing ships: five
merchantmen, one destroyer and a trawler… A third of the convoy was
missing. It was vitally necessary to round them up as soon as
possible, before they straggled too far. Sherbrooke therefore decided
to send a ship to search with radar…He sent BRAMBLE, one of the few
escorts fitted with an effective surface-search radar set, to look for
the missing ships., and at 1230 on 29th December she was
called up by signal lamp and told to search to the north-west. Rust,
her captain, was warned that the convoy would shortly alter to due
east, the time depending on the result of the star sight.
As
soon as the final Morse ‘R’ came from BRAMBLE, showing she had
received the signal, she turned away, her radar aerials revolving, to
begin the hunt. She was never seen again by British eyes.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope
|
29.12.42 |
With JW51B 150
miles south-west of Bear Island (and well astern of her dead
reckoning) three of the merchantmen rejoined, one was travelling in
company with Vizalma, while BRAMBLE was still searching for the
Jefferson Myers.
On board the
merchantman Empire Archer a disturbance broke out among her firemen
after some had broached a consignment of rum intended for the Kola
based minesweepers. In the ensuing violence two men were knifed. This
fight occurred simultaneously with the threatened break adrift of a
railway locomotive which, among a deck cargo of eight heavy tanks, had
parted some of its lashings. The drunken firemen were suppressed by
the ship’s master and his officers. Desperate for merchant seamen,
these ne’er-do-wells had been offered a bonus of £100 when they were
recruited from Scotland’s notorious Barlinnie Gaol.
|
30.12.42 |
Following a report
sent by U354 that the JW51B was weakly escorted and giving its
position, Admiral Hipper, Lutzow and six German destroyers were sailed
to intercept the convoy.
U354 worked its
way round to the front of the convoy and was preparing to attack the
convoy when she was sighted by Obdurate which tried to ram it but the
U-boat crash dived and escaped.
|
|
Wednesday 30th December, with the convoy eight days out of
Loch Ewe, found the weather a good deal better and all ships had every
available man on deck chipping off the sheath of ice.
During the morning three of the missing merchantmen rejoined the
convoy; a fourth along with an escort trawler had overtaken the convoy
in their efforts to catch up. At 1240 the convoy was spotted by U-354.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope
|
31.12.42 |
Early
on New Year ’s Eve convoy JW51B was on an easterly course, driven well
south of its planned route by the heavy gale two days earlier. Two
merchant ships, the trawler Vizalma and BRAMBLE were still missing
from the convoy. Unknown to Sherbrooke, BRAMBLE was about 15 miles
north-east of the convoy and probably steaming a similar course: while
Vizalma with Chester Valley were both about 40 miles to the north,
steering east and making 11 knots, hoping to overtake the convoy but
in ignorance of the fact it was south of them.
Thus,
as the German force (Hipper, Lutzow and six destroyers) approached
from the south-west before dawn on New Year’s Eve, the convoy was
closest to them and Force R (the cruisers Sheffield and Jamaica) was
30 miles beyond; Vizalma and the Chester Valley were even farther
north. The BRAMBLE, alone, was ahead of the convoy.
Hipper
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope |
31.12.42 |
The Arctic ‘dawn’
(between 0800 and 1500 there was a ‘nautical twilight’ as the sun
never rose to more than 12° below the horizon) broke to a freezing
morning with a heavy frost and all the ships covered in a thick mantle
of ice. The wind had dropped and the sea had moderated, leaving a
heavy swell. Except where the snow squalls shut it in, visibility was
quite good, up to 10 miles to the south. About a dozen miles to the
north east BRAMBLE was still searching for the Jefferson Myers (which
was in fact miles away from BRAMBLE’s position).
Around
7:00 a.m., the convoy was seen by Hipper’s destroyers.
While the Hipper diverted herself to the North to push the convoy into
the clutches of the Lutzow, the destroyers shadowed the convoy.
|
31.12.42 |
At 0820 the corvette
Hyderabad made the first sighting of two destroyers due south. At this
stage it was uncertain is they were Russian or German. They were
German.
Just about this time the
minesweeper BRAMBLE transmitted a brief signal. 'One cruiser bearing
300°',
but only the Hyderabad picked it up. Apparently she assumed the signal
– the last ever received from the BRAMBLE – had been picked up by
other ships of the escort, for she did not pass it on to Kinloch, who
was unaware of it until several days later.
At about 0915 the German
destroyers Eckholdt, Beitzen and Z29 engaged Obdurate and the battle
of the Bering Sea commenced. Shortly after this, Hipper engaged Onslow.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope
While the
convoy was sailing eastwards in the company of the Achates alone, the
other British destroyers put themselves between the convoy and the
German cruisers and destroyers. The British ships managed to avoid the
enemy fire until the Onslow was hit by four heavy shells at 10:20
a.m., suffering extensive damage. The British destroyers then vanished
in the fog.
After dealing the Onslow a
crushing blow without realising it, Admiral Kummetz ordered the Hipper
to increase to 31 knots – full speed – and steer to the ENE with his
three destroyers in company. The convoy was now more than twelve miles
away to the SSW steaming, he hoped, into the guns of the Lutzow and
the three destroyers.
Suddenly at 1036, a
destroyer or corvette – the look-outs could not be certain which in
the darkness and snow squalls – was sighted on the port side, steering
away from the Hipper. ‘I directed the Hipper to engage this ship,
which was at first taken to be a corvette or destroyer,’ wrote Kummetz,
‘because it would have meant a very unpleasant link on the lee side of
the firing in an engagement with the convoy. After finishing off the
destroyer I intended to resume action with the convoy. The destroyer
was probably an escort stationed on the flank of the convoy.’
In fact the ‘destroyer’
was the 875 tonne minesweeper BRAMBLE, commanded by Cdr H T Rust, and
manned by seven officers and 113 ratings. She had one 4 inch gun
firing a 31 pound shell against the Hipper’s eight 8 inch and twelve
4.1 inch. Immediately the Hipper was sighted, Rust must have sent off
an enemy report – received only by Hyderabad – knowing nothing could
save him. At 1043 HMS Hyderabad picked up the following message on
Fleet Wave:
Addressed ONSLOW from BRAMBLE.
One cruiser bearing 300 degrees.
T.O.O. 1039A
|
Apparently Hyderabad
assumed the signal – the last ever received from the BRAMBLE – had
been picked up by other ships of the escort, for she did not pass it
on to Kinloch, who was unaware of it until several days later.
The Hipper’s guns did not
sink BRAMBLE, even though they were firing for six minutes, and at
1046 Kummetz ordered the Freidrich Eckholdt by radio-telephone:
'Sink the destroyer in position 1500. Destroyer was fired on by Hipper'.
Kummetz then swung the Hipper round to get nearer the convoy
again.
Source: Extracts from ’73
North’, Dudley Pope
|
31.12.42 |
BRAMBLE
had managed to fire a single round at Hipper from her 4" gun and a few
rounds from her Oerlikons before being overwhelmed by the cruiser's
heavy weapon fire. BRAMBLE sank
at 11:58, eight officers including her captain Cdr H J Rust and 113
ratings were drowned.
In the subsequent
action, the Eckholdt herself was sunk when she mistook the Sheffield
for Hipper. Sheffield swept past at point blank range with the
full-calibre weapons depressed at an elevation never previously
attempted, firing into the enemy destroyer with ‘all guns down to
pom-poms’ and destroying her in minutes.
The outclassed
German ships retired and contact was lost at about 1400. The convoy
proceeded unmolested. |
2.1.43 |
During
the afternoon Harrier and Seagull joined as part of the eastern local
escort, leading the main body of the convoy into Kola where it arrived
the next day, though final berthing was delayed by dense fog.
The
Jefferson Myers finally made her way into Molotovsk, escorted by a
Russian destroyer, on 6/1. |
8.1.43 |
The Board of Enquiry reported on the presumed loss
of HMS BRAMBLE.
CLICK HERE for details
|
Source:
http://www.naval-history.net/Cr03-55-00BarentsSea2.htm
|
A
Memorial Service for BRAMBLE was held in Aireborough: BRAMBLE was
special to Aireborough because in one week residents raised £140,000
to buy it in Warships Week (March
14 1942 until March 21 1942) and prior to its sinking the crew members, including
Captain Harvey Crombie visited Aireborough groups and schools.
At the memorial service held in Guiseley Parish Church, the Captain
said:
"They had braved
difficulties and perils probably unparalleled in the annals of the
British Navy, and calls upon their courage and endurance were
constant, but they never failed. They would not have us think sadly at
this time, but rather that we should praise God that they had remained
steadfast to duty to the end."
|
|