Convoy through the Wolf Packs -
the story of Convoy HG 76
(Part Two)
(From The Orcadian dated May 2, 2002)

The night of December 21 came down, and we were still a good many miles from the convoy, then came the attack on the convoy.

In an attempt to confuse and draw the enemy away, we were directed to stage a mock attack by firing star-shells and parachute rockets. Whether the gunfire and display of illuminations had any immediate effect on the shadowing submarines we never knew, but we certainly had a good show of fireworks as we closed the gap between ourselves and the convoy.

Everyone at action-stations was delighted when they heard the message and command come ringing through the voice-pipe from the bridge: “The mock battle is now off…The real one is on now…Stand by action stations!”

Jack Ashburner, now operating the Asdic set, had made contact with a U-boat. Our Captain skillfully manouevered the Samphire into her attacking position, rang for speed, and at the decisive moment the depth-charge firing alarm buzzers were pressed. We in charge of the throwers and rails immediately pulled the firing and release mechanism. Instantly a pattern of ten charges were ejected and rained down on the submerged craft. When the charges exploded, huge columns of phosphorescent water shot into the air.

This first attack brought forth no surface sign of success. However, Jack was doing his stuff. He was holding contact with the invisible enemy, making sure that this one would not get away.

The Samphire attacked again, another ten charges set to explode at a much greater depth. The effect was not so visible, nevertheless, on exploding they shook the ocean like an earthquake.

We all thought that, surely that would bring the submarine to the surface, but still no results. However, the operator still maintained contact. The gun’s crew were all keyed up, ready, and expecting the U-boat to surface at any moment; then they would show what they could do.

The depth-charge parties were now fully occupied rolling the spare charges along the decks to reload the the throwers in readiness for the next attempt at destroying our crafty opponent. The roll of the ocean swell and the heaving of the exploding charges made the task of handling those 500lbs of explosives anything but child’s play.

Working in the dark made the job all the more difficult, but the lads knew exactly what was expected of them and were never found unequal to the task.

With all her charges reloaded and set to explode this time at maximum depth, the corvette again increased speed to carry out her third attack on the submerged submarine. This last devastating death-dealing pattern of high explosives would either bring her to the surface or sink her to the bottom of the sea forever.

On the signal from the bridge – “Fire!” – the “bangers” were ejected and released from both towers and rails. Another ten charges were sinking into the sea to carry out their mission of destruction far in the depths of the ocean.

This time they surely landed bang on target. Both Jack and the Asdic officer heard loud breaking up noises through the hydrophones.

The U-boat had definitely been sandwiched and was breaking up. That, coupled with the fact that no further contact could be made, clearly indicated that the submarine had finally gone to the bottom of the sea.

The party in charge of the depth charge rails aft maintained that they could see a black cloud astern when the last charges went off.

Owing to the presence of other U-boats it was deemed advisable not to use the searchlight, so instead of searching around and presenting the ship as a target for a salvo of torpedoes, the Samphire’s bows were turned in the direction of the convoy. We were off to join the rest of the 36th Escort Group to carry on with the A/S screen.

The 13 German prisoners behaved themselves remarkably well while the attack on their sister ship was going on. Their only worry was that the corvette might get torpedoed and sunk while the battle was happening. They admitted that there were many U-boats in the area.

One of the guards, the Stanley survivor, had this to say: “One false move from them during the action and they would have had it. Who knows, they may have had the idea that they could overpower their guards and take the ship.”

During their period of captivity, the prisoners were accommodated in the starboard shelter-deck, and were well looked after on the whole voyage to England.

They received the same food as the rest of the ship’s company, were provided with ship’s blankets and other gear to make themselves comfortable.

The ship’s bathroom, at convenient intervals during the day was also at their disposal. Once each day they were allowed on the upper deck for a period of exercise. Games were provided for their amusement, and to while away their hours of captivity at sea.

During the night the sloop HMS Deptford carried out an attack on a U-boat. This one was also presumed to be sunk. In her case also, no survivors could be seen.

On December 21 the Escort Group sustained the loss of the aircraft carrier Audacity. She was torpedoed approximately 500 miles west of Cape Finistère.

The loss was a big blow to the Escort Group. Her Martlet spotter planes had sought out the enemy and with their bombs had destroyed at least one U-boat.

They had played a large part in the destruction of others by reporting their positions to the Escort Group.

From the December 22, the convoy was left in peace. Apparently Doenitz had recalled his Wolf Packs from the fight, but there was always the danger that they would regroup and return to launch yet another concentrated attack on the convoy.

Christmas Day, however, found us still at sea. A few days yet before we would be seeing “Old England.”

Today our Captain was going to speak to the ship’s company over the loud speaker.

We eagerly looked forward to what he had to say, but his message was very short: “I’m sorry to inform the ship’s company that, on this occasion, owing to the presence of the enemy, Christmas can’t be celebrated in the traditional way. However, I trust the day will soon come when you will all again enjoy your Christmases at home.”

On arrival in Liverpool, we tied up alongside an oil tanker, and the 13 U-boat prisoners were quietly taken ashore.

It was too late to grant any shore-leave that night, so everyone had to content themselves staying on board the ship. Anyway, we were all weary and worn out from our long ordeal at sea, and we were glad to have the pleasure of a night free from action-stations and watch-keeping.

Later on, the Christmas mails were brought on board. They were soon distributed amongst the ship’s company.

Mr Harcus’s medals.

Some received glad news, whilst others received sad news; news of how their homes had been destroyed by bombs, and their loved ones killed.

Such were the fortunes of war, and none of us could do anything to ease the blow which had befallen our shipmates, apart from giving them our sympathy.

It was now time for “hands to supper.” The tables were cleared and draped with pale blue cloths to mark the occasion of our safe arrival in harbour. Someone shouted “come on boys, brew the tea while we set the tables.”

Everything the lads had got from their friends and loved ones was laid out on the tables where everyone could help themselves. The mark of strain and worry faded from many youthful faces as they enjoyed the fun of this belated Christmas feast.

The following day, the Samphire tied up alongside the wall in Gladstone Dock. Half the ship’s company would be going on another well-earned leave.

It was also our time for a break, so, Jack and I caught the northbound train. Jack got off at Carlisle for Egremont, whilst I continued the long tiresome journey to the Orkneys. Three days later I arrived home in Westray just in time to welcome in the New Year.

We arrived back from leave just in time to catch the Samphire before she sailed out of Gladstone Dock. She was off again on escort duty, with another convoy to the Mediterranean, but that is another story.

Some time after our arrival at Gibraltar, we were warned that Captain Walker was coming on board to address the ship’s company. On the order “Clear lower deck,” all hands mustered on the upper deck to hear what the captain of the Stork had to say.

Captain Walker’s address conveyed the following message to us:

“No doubt you will have heard the story of how Lieut Grunther Prien in the U-47 entered Scapa Flow and sank the Royal Oak. When Prien arrived back in Germany, his first officer, Lieut Engelbert Endress was rewarded by being promoted to command of a U-boat, and later on in the U-567 he commanded the Endress Group of U-boats.

“At dusk, on December 21, Endress sent a signal to headquarters to the effect that he was going in to attack the convoy. That was the last signal received at U-boat headquarters from the U-567.

“Endress’s signal corresponded with the date, time and position in which HMS Samphire carried out her attack on the U-boat. Owing to the fact that there were no survivors or anything to establish the identity of the submarine, the Admiralty regret they cannot issue any decorations to the ship.

“However, it is clear from evidence produced that the Samphire was responsible for the sinking of the U-567.”

Captain Walker went on to say: “I congratulate the whole ship’s company and wish them better luck next time.”

HMS Deptford was also out of luck regarding the issue of decorations by the Admiralty for their action during the night of December 21.

Information gained from German records show that there were definitely two of their U-boats lost on the night of December 21, 1941.

This was Britain’s first major victory over German U-boats. For the loss of four of our ships, the enemy had suffered the loss of no less than seven of their ocean going U-boats. The tide of submarine warfare had definitely taken a turn in our favour.

When the Samphire reached Liverpool on August 2, 1942, I found that a draft was waiting for me.

This meant the parting of the ways for Jack and me. Saying goodbye to the old Samphire and all her ship’s company took a bit of doing. All the “gang” in the mess deck insisted that we celebrate all round, as they probably would never see me again.

The draft directed me to return to the Asdic school to qualify for Higher Submarine Detector. On completing the course, I was again on draft.

This time I was sent to take charge of the Asdic and mine-detecting equipment on board the Fleet minesweeper HMS Hazard. Her destination was Iceland where we were actively engaged on the hazardous task of minesweeping for the rest of the winter.

One day, over the radio came the sad news that the corvette HMS Samphire had been sunk by torpedoes in the Mediterranean, on January 30. There were 33 survivors.

The Samphire had been engaged on escorting a convoy which was taking part in the Africa Campaign.

Jack had, as usual, given the Asdic operators a spell by taking over the watch from 10 pm until midnight.

On being relieved, he made his report to the officer of the watch. “Officer of the watch, sir, Asdic watch relieved and correct, sir.” On receiving the “Very good, thank you,” Jack leisurely made his way down towards the forward sleeping quarters. When he got there, most of the watch had already dropped off to sleep.

Jack was preparing to follow his mates’ example, when a tremor went through the ship, it felt as if another vessel had collided with the Samphire. Jack thought it best to go up top and investigate, he was in the act of looking for his shoes when a terrific explosion occurred, and the lights went out.

Jack realised at once that the Samphire was doomed. Miraculously he found his way along the two deck flats, and up the ladders, at last he reached the boat deck, there he found that ‘abandon ship stations’ already appeared to be in operation.

The fact that Jack was already awake before the lights went out helped greatly in finding an escape route from the forward lower bunk space.

The first torpedo had hit the Samphire aft in the petty officers’ quarter, while the second one had scored a direct hit in the engine room. All on deck knew the ship would not stay afloat another minute.

The boats could not be got away in time. All those who wanted to escape would have to swim for their lives, or be dragged down by the suction of the ship.

The Captain, two officers, and 42 members of the ship’s crew were either killed, trapped down below, or were dragged down by the sinking ship and perished.

Jack was among the 33 lucky survivors that got away in time.

The First Lieutenant was a poweful swimmer. He did a commendable job of work by swimming round all the time encouraging the men and keeping them together, that was their only hope of being picked up.

If they got separated in the darkness they would probably be lost.

At last a destroyer came rushing past. The men in the water cried out for help.

Although they were unaware of the fact that a ship had been torpedoed and sunk, the destroyer turned around to investigate the area from whence the cries were coming.

On recognition, the man-of-war glided alongside of what was left of the Samphire’s crew.

Taking a great risk, the destroyer lowered a boat and soon they were all rescued from what appeared to be a watery grave.

Then she steamed away through the night as if nothing had ever happened.

Soon, Jack was back at sea again, this time in charge of the Asdics on board a destroyer, which was taking part in the Italian Campaign.

Two years later he arrived back on leave in “good old” England.

It is to the memory of all our former shipmates that I decided to write this brief account on one of our most memorable voyages on board HMS Samphire.

I would like to take this opportunity to record my thanks to Jack for once being the means of saving my life.

My thanks are also due to the Librarian at The Imperial War Museum, for dates regarding the passage of Convoy HG 76.

British and German losses during Convoy HG 76

CONVOY AND ESCORT GROUP LOSSES

December 15 - SS Barracuda, oil tanker.

December 19 – SS Ruckinge, cargo ship.

December 19 – HMS Stanley, destroyer.

December 21 – HMS Audacity, aircraft carrier.

GERMAN LOSSES

December 15 - U-127, Lieut. Hansmann in command.

December 17 – U-131, Cdr. Baumann.

December 18 – U-434, Cdr. Heyda.

December 19 – U-574, Lieut. Gangelbach.

December 21 – U-151, Lieut. Cdr. Hoofman.

December 21 – U-567, Lieut. Endress.

December 21 – U-208, Lieut. Schlieper.