ML 207

[Gray207]

Andy

Your current thinking regarding your grandfather’s time with ML 207, certainly fits in with what I always thought was the case and, since I cannot remember my father mentioning the name of another coxswain anyway, for the purposes of the book, that’s what I will keep with - at least for the moment.

You may find more from your grandfather’s service record. However, I must admit to having become wary of official records and documents. I’ve encountered numerous contradictions, even in records that I thought would be beyond reproach and one hundred percent accurate. My own father’s service record is a good example. Like you, I have the original documents that my father was issued with when he left the Navy, so had never bothered to apply for a new copy. However, a member of this forum explained that when they applied for their own father’s records, they also received brief details outlining the deployment of their father’s ship. As a consequence, I decided to apply myself and obtained a similar record of ML 207’s deployment, which has been of some help, though it is very brief - just a few lines really - and does contain a lot of gaps. However, I was surprised to discover that, when it comes to my father’s postings, there are contradictions between the original service record and the new one. As an example, one document has him joining ML 207 just after Christmas 1944 – the date my father always said he joined, having previously served with MGB 55 based at HMS Attack in Portland. The other has him joining later. I can only guess as to the cause of such discrepancies. I imagine it is down to missing documents and errors, which is hardly surprising given the huge numbers of service personnel deployed during the war. Keeping tabs on everyone must have been a herculean task.

It was interesting to hear about your grandfather’s role with burials at sea. My father said that, sadly, there were a few. Though none relating to ML 207’s own crew or those of her sister ships. They related to bodies the crew came across in the water while undertaking their duties. He also said that the burials were always carried out with utmost dignity and respect and explained that your grandfather was the one who oversaw the sewing of the bodies into their shrouds. During the Normandy Landings the crew of 207 were told the ship could not recover any bodies they came across but must continue with their designated orders. There were vessels specially tasked with recovering those who had fallen with the aim of repatriating them, rather than burying them at sea. ML 207’s need to conduct maritime burials came later, after the initial assault, most especially when she was involved with clearing The Channel ports.

Once ML 207’s mine sweeping role had been completed, during the initial Normandy assault, along with other ships, she was tasked with protecting the anchorage from E-boats and other assailants. At one point there were apparent sightings of the E-Boats at the adjacent landing beach to Gold, Omaha Beach, and ML 207 was ordered to assist. As it happened, they never found any E-Boats and soon returned to the eastern sector; my father said that the crew doubted that they were ever any E-Boats there. Sadly, what they did discover, were quite a few bodies in the water. Understandably, the crew wanted to help recover their comrades in arms and found the fact that they couldn’t extremely distressing. The second in command told the crew he would radio the position to the authorities. Whether he did of whether it was just his way of pacifying the crew is a is a open to debate.

There was also one particularly sad occasion when the crew of ML 207 became involved in a burial at sea. It occurred whilst the ship was at Immingham on the East Coast. The port became the 1st ML flotilla’s designated home port when it was ordered to the Scheldt to help clear mines - though the ship spent the vast majority of its Scheldt deployment at Ostend and Terneuzen. My father said that a young sailor, from another Royal Navy Ship, have been reported absent without leave. What had actually happened to him came to light when some barges were moved and his body floated to the surface. Apparently, he had met with a tragic accident. The theory was that he had fallen from his own ship, hit his head as he fell and been trapped under one of the barges. The authorities seemed satisfied that there was no question of foul play. The family requested a burial at sea and ML 207 was chosen for the task. I understand the boy’s own ship had sailed some days previously and ML 207 happened to be available. A Royal Navy Chaplin accompanied the boy’s mother and another family member during the ceremony. Subsequently, ML 207’s commanding officer received a touching letter from the boy’s mother, which he read out to the crew, thanking the officers and crew for their kindness. My father said that he was always struck by what an irony of fate the tragedy was. Here was a young lad losing his life in a simple accident, when no-doubt his life had been on the line many times during front line action against the enemy.

Like most who served during the war, my father rarely mentioned the terrible sights he witnessed and it took a lot of persuasion to get him talk about them and include a few instances in the book. Mostly, he talked about the funny things that happened, that’s if my mum allowed him to – she was just like your grannie in that respect, though she always listened with delight when she finally gave way. I think her light-hearted protestations ensured that my father did not repeat the stories too often were her way of ensuring that my brother and I never grew tired of the tails. At times, listening to him, you would have thought my father was on some sort of extended holiday during his time in the Navy. He clearly enjoyed the time spent with his crewmates and comradery that developed was obvious.



Admin

Thankyou for your words of encouragement. I am pleased that you have found the information I have posted interesting. The research has been far more involved than I ever imagined!

[Gray207]

I must correct my previous post regarding burials at sea. I’ve been going through some of my father’s hand-written notes looking for any mention a coxswain other than Longmate, so far without success. What I did come across, though, was something I had forgotten about. A burial at sea that occurred on the afternoon of D-Day, though it could also have occurred a little later. My father’s note implies that it happened on D-Day but can also be taken to mean one of the days that followed. The incident wasn’t related to the fighting taking place ashore and actually started out as a rescue. My father says that the crew spotted a man in the water wearing a life jacket when they were patrolling some way offshore. They raced over to help and hauled him aboard ship. It turned out to be a young American sailor in his late teens. Although he was unconscious, his skin was pink, so he seemed to still be alive. Longmate and the Midshipman got to work on him immediately, giving him artificial respiration. As they did so, the ML raced over to another larger ship and their doctor came aboard to help. Sadly, even though the men tried for some time, they were unable to save the poor lad and the doctor pronounced him dead. My father said that, once the medic departed, the Captain announced that they would conduct a burial. Here is how my father describes what happened next:

The midshipman removed his identity disk and other personal possessions, so they could be sent to the American authorities. Then under Longmate’s instruction, the crew prepared his body as best they could, finishing by tying a small concrete weight around his legs - we carried a number of these aboard to anchor floats when marking the position of wrecks. With the solemn preparations complete, the crew gathered silently in respect whilst the captain said a few words from the bible. As he said, “we commit this body to the sea”, or some such words, we slid the young man overboard. The burial had a very sobering effect on the crew. Other than the exchanges necessary to carry out their duties, it was some time before anyone spoke.

So, it was Longmate and Pennyworth’s father, Midshipman Wood, who tried to resuscitate the young man. If you’re reading this Penny, my apologies for unknowingly implying that the incident did not take place. No doubt your father mentioned it.

[Gray207]

I though members would be interested in one particularly nasty encounter that ML 207, and other ships of the 1st ML Flotila, had with E-Boats whilst escorting a convoy in the Channel. The incident involved convoy CW 243 and occurred in the early hours of the 31st of January 1944, a matter of weeks after my father joined the ship.

The convoy formed up off Southend on the morning of the 30th of January and departed around mid-day heading westbound for the Atlantic via the Channel. The admiralty always tried to ensure that Channel Convoys passed through the Straights of Dover during the hours of darkness to reduce the chance of becoming easy targets for the massive German guns stationed across the water near Calais. So, with the convoy sailing at a speed of around 7 knots, the noon departure was designed to achieve this.

Although it was mid-winter, my father said that, on the day in question, the weather was calm and clear. Soon after passing Dover, having finished his watch, he was crossing the deck and describes the scene he witnessed.

When I next emerged from the engine room we were between Dover and Folkstone; night had descended. It was incredibly calm, amazingly so for the time of year. On deck, the din of the engines below was replaced by the deep throbbing drone of their exhaust gases exiting the funnel; the rhythmic sound of the ML’s props cutting up the water providing an accompaniment. The cold night air was refreshingly bracing after the heat of the engine room; the briny aroma of sea and the night breeze buffeting my face, equally so. Although it was dark, I could see the churning surface that we were leaving in our wake glinting in the soft moonlight and, although the blackout was in force in the coastal towns, easily make out the famous chalk cliffs of Samphire Hoe to starboard. The ships of the convoy loomed off to our port side, appearing as a series of black shadowy hulks; the sea making a distinctive sloshing sound as it washed against their bows.

Later, having completed his next watch, my father was in the mess deck when the call for action stations went up. It turned out that the escorts had detected what was thought to be an enemy U-Boat and ML 207 joined others in a search for the assailant. Depth charges were released but, not for the first time during similar pursuits, no sub was found, although the 207s own ASDIC operator was convinced there had been one.

Some hours later off Beachy Head, while back in the mess deck once again, a bright star flare lit up the sky and, as my father and his crewmates looked on, more were dropped from a plane flying above on what as if it was carrying out some sort of search and rescue mission. Immediately the ship when to action stations and there was another rush for the companion ladder. This time slightly less frantic than the last and the mess deck emptied quicker as a result. My father took no more than a couple of steps on deck, as he headed for the engine room hatch, when there was a bright flash from the head of the convoy followed soon after by the sound of an enormous explosion – the convoy was under attack!

Here is how my father describes the scene:

I could see enemy vessels travelling at high speed, lit up by the flares from the plane, weaving and making smoke as they went. Another bright flash lit up the sky and a second massive explosion erupted, this this time to port. I made a final run for the engine room hatch and threw myself down the ladder. Mac was at the controls having been on watch when the mayhem broke out. Our guns were already in action, their recoil vibrating through the hull and the noise of their fire reaching us despite the roar of our engines at full throttle.’

Guns still blazing, we made a high-speed sweeping turn to port, eventually slowing as the guns fell silent. After what seemed an age, but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, the telegraphs rang for dead slow and all hands were called to the deck, leaving just Mac, Ping, and Sparks below. We began a search pattern looking for survivors with every available man scanning the sea. As we did so, we passed one of the Navy trawlers stationary in the water, its bows wrecked and clearly sinking. ML 206 was by her side. One of the destroyers was also damaged and at least two of the merchantmen sunk.

ML 207 was soon instructed to return to its escort role alongside the remainder of the convoy as it continued west. ML 206 ferried the survivors of the stricken navy tug, the Pine, to Newhaven, plying them with rum on the way. Ten of the Pine’s crew had been killed. Two merchantmen, SS Emerald and SS Caleb Sprague, were also hit by torpedoes and the destroyer HMS Albrighton was badly damaged. Both merchant ships sank in seconds. The first taking all fifteen crew members with her. Twenty-two died on the second vessel. Incredibly, the Pine hadn’t sunk immediately but had been take in tow, eventually succumbing to her fate the next day. She went down off Selsey Bill as they tried to get her to Portsmouth. In all, some fifty men had lost their lives with more injured.

The attack had been carefully planned. Well before the convoy passed, E-boats had managed to get close inshore undetected. Then, using a navigation buoy as cover, launched a surprise attack from our starboard side. At the same time, another group of E-boats attacked the convoy’s port quarter, their gunfire and torpedo strikes made all the more accurate by the bright flares dropped by the plane. The crew couldn’t understand how the E-Boats hadn’t been spotted on coastal radar. Obviously, the buoy masked their radar signature once they were next to it, but that didn’t explain how the enemy got there without being detected. Nor did it explain why the E-boats that attacked from the port side hadn’t been spotted either. Many years later my father discovered that the E-Boats had been detected but an appalling communications mix-up meant the convoy’s escorts hadn’t been informed.

Willian Gosling, a gunner abord ML 206, described the attack in his 1980 interview with Ted Haley for the the Imperial War Museum. One of his stand-out memories of the incident was the discipline of the men abord HMT Pine. He says, ‘I will always admire those men,’ explaining that, despite many of their crew mates lying dead or badly injured, and with their ship clearly sinking, when ML 206 drew alongside, not a single man attempted to scramble to safety. Instead, one of them shouted out to ML 206's commanding officer, ‘Permission to come abord sir’, and only after permission was granted did they start moving to safety.

Over the last decade or so, the wrecks of the Pine and the two merchant ships have become dive sites. All are, of course, protected war graves and those diving have been very mindful of this. One diving club, Guildford Branch of the British Sub Aqua Club, adopted the Pine as a research project and produced an excellent and detailed report covering both the current state of the wreck and the background to the sinking. For those interested the report can be found VIA the following web link:

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q ... i=89978449

The report explains that ML 206 rescued those on board HMT Pine, taking off 20 survivors. Then again going alongside the sinking Pine a boarding party took further 7 survivors from below decks onto the ML. The Pine’s skipper had broken his legs and been swept from the bridge to the deck by the falling mast. The sub-lieutenant had broken his jaw, the ASDIC rating was badly concussed and the signalman had what looked like broken ribs.’

It's interesting to note that the report, produced using official records, says that the convoy was ordered not to slow down and make best speed towards the safety of Portsmouth, leaving the crippled HMT Pine adrift behind them. It goes on to say that it was Lt-Commander Leslie close by in Motor Launch 206 who quickly came to save those still on-board HMT Pine. Elsewhere, the report refers to the escorts assigned to convoy CW 243 but dosen’t mention the four motor launches of the 1st ML Flotilla giving the impression that ML 206 simply happened to be in the vicinity when the attack happened. Not for the first time the smaller ships of Coastal Forces, and their vital role, appear to have been omitted from the official records.

HMT PINE

[candler]

Mr Handley,

I found this amongst my father's possessions. he too was on MLs. ML 571 and 901. In 571 sweeping the beaches pre D day and then to Kiel,Flekkelfoird, Brunbuttell etc.
Presume this would have been taken from ML901, of which he was commanding officer.
They are a few other photos of MLs around this time up there,but unable to ascertain the number apart from ML222.
Hope this is of interest

Kind regards

Andrew Candler

[Gray207]

Andrew

Thank you for your post. What a great image of ML 207 and not one I recall seeing previously. Are there any notes in your father’s album regarding date and location? My guess is that it was taken in early 1945 whilst your father was serving aboard ML 571. As it happens, there is a photograph of ML 571 taken at sea in my father’s album with a note underneath saying, ‘ML 571 Terneuzen (Holland) March 1945’. This, and the misty conditions in the background of your father’s photograph, suggest both images may have been taken when the ships were operating on the notoriously foggy Scheldt Estuary; though your fathers photograph could have been taken at any time from when he first joined ML 571 in 1944 to when ML 207 was decommissioned in March 1946. I think both MLs were part of the 1st ML Flotilla throughout this period. ML 207 certainly was and ML 571 was at least until the later part of 1945.

In the Navy Lists dated October 1945, the latest I’ve been able to look at, your father is listed as Temporary Acting Sub-Lieutenant and is the only officer aboard ML 571. According to the same document, the commanding officer of ML 901 was Temporary Lieutenant W. L. Main who was also the senior officer of the 33rd ML Flotilla, so it seems likely that by the time your father became commanding officer of ML 901, ML 207 would have been decommissioned, though I have come across errors in the Navy Lists, so I may be wrong and there is also the chance that ML 207 and ML 901, with your father as her commanding officer, were together in the final months of 1945 or early 1946.

The photograph of ML 571 in my father’s album is quite small and in poor condition but I thought you would like to see it anyway, so have attached it below. I think the most important thing about it is the note.

It was interesting to hear that your father mentioned both Flekkelfoird, Norway, Kiel, Germany and the town at the Western entrance to the Kiel canal, Brunbuttell. Do you have any further information as to when your farther was at these locations. It’s been quite difficult to determine precisely were my father’s ship was at a given time towards the end of the war – things were moving so fast. As mentioned in my last post, Arthur Gosling, a crew member of another of the 1st ML Flotilla’s ships, made a recording for the Imperial War Museum back in 1980 in which he relates his own war experiences. His recollections, together with other information I've managed to obtain, have helped confirm the overall sequence of events but when it comes to the end of the war, he says that his ship, ML 206, had been undergoing repairs and was late leaving for Norway, adding that the rest of the flotilla had left well before them. In his writings, my father says that he was on the Kiel Canal when the war in Europe ended. I’ve always taken this to mean VE day, the 7th of May 1945, but the phrase ‘when the war in Europe ended’ is a bit ambiguous, so may refer to a time after VE day because fighting continued in many areas in eastern Europe. The phrase could also refer to a time prior to VE day because, as far as British were concerned, the war in Europe ended when Field Marshal Montgomery took the unconditional surrender of German forces in the Netherlands, Denmark and in North West Germany, at Lüneburg on the 4th of May. Within these areas, large numbers of German troops had stopped fighting or surrendered well before the official unconditional surrender to Montgomery, so, to many, the war had already ended.

I recently came across another piece of information that you may find interesting. I’ve been trying to find an official record of the deployment of 1st ML flotilla during operation Neptune for some time but only ever found information relating to the larger ships. A few weeks ago, I was delighted to discover a full copy of the battle summary on a website belonging to the Australian Navy, including details of the entire Coastal Forces Deployment. I’ve attached a copy of the page relating to the 1st ML Flotilla below. As you will see, your father’s ship ML 571, was allocated to the 9th Mine Sweeping Flotilla for the Assault, as were MLs 185 and 222. As expected, MLs 206 and 207 were attached to the 6th Mine Sweeping Flotilla, along with ML 220. ML 450 was assigned to the 18th Mine Sweeping Flotilla. Earlier in the document the channels that each of the Mine Sweeping Flotillas cut through the German mine barrier are also detailed. The 6th cut channel 5 to Gold Beach ahead of assault force G; the 9th, with your father aboard ML 571, cut channel 7 to Juno Beach ahead of assault force J; and the 18th cut channel 6 to the eastern sector of Gold Beach.

For anyone interested, the complete deployment of every Coast Forces Vessel during the Invasion of Normandy, including MLs, MTBs, MGBs and the rest can be found at:

https://www.navy.gov.au/sites/default/f ... _Part1.pdf

[candler]

Hi,
Sorry for slow response and thank you for the information. Sadly like many my father knew talked about his time in the RNVR apart from drinking pink gin in officers mess and having it seems a right time in Kobenhaven. It was only when I took my parents for a holiday to France, which did so happen to be Normandy and not far from Arromanche that he mentioned " oh yes I remember being here and I had to drive my CO to Caen as he wanted to see the Bayeux Tapestry "
He, as we all, did shed a tear as we looked out to sea.
As for dates and places on those photos. No dates, only the places I'm afraid.
I have little to go on apart from certifications from Commanding officers that he was on HMML 571 from June 44 to April 46 serving as 1st Lieutenant and CO of HMML 901 June 46 to ? (certification dated 19/10/46) and then released from Naval Service Dec 46 (letter from Admiralty) and a letter (7/9/99) to a Mrs E Branson which mentions, He and his Skipper of ML571, meeting her on duty at Yarmouth pier whilst they awaited the sailing of American Starlight convoys. They re-met in Flensburg as when she was with ENSA.
I've added what I have of photos.
kind regards
Andrew

[candler]

a few more photos

[candler]

other possible information of interest.

[candler]

and finally

The "C" not sure if of any significance within the Navy ? There are two of them.

Hope of some interest

Kind regards

Andrew

[Gray207]

Andrew, thank you for your series of posts. I found them fascinating. I’ve been looking through the photographs trying to determine locations. Many appear to have been taken in Copenhagen, some at or near the Holmen navy base, which is opposite to the famous statue of the Little Mermaid at Langelinie. Others are at Langelinie itself. These are the same locations that my father spoke of and photographed. The building in the background of the second and third images of the second set of photographs that you posted is the distinctive Dahlerup Warehouse at Langelinie. The building is now occupied by a government department and is also home to Denmark's Customs and Taxes Museum. The quayside in front of the Dahlerup is a modern-day cruise liner terminal. I’ve included a couple of photos of the building below. The first doesn’t quite show the edge of the quayside. The second does but only a portion of the former warehouse has been captured on the centre right. I couldn’t find an image that matched the perspective in your father’s photograph, so used Google Earth to produce something close – the third of the images below – and have added a clipping from one of your photographs for comparison. I think you will agree that it is the same place. The final image I’ve attached shows just how close the Dahlerup Warehouse it is to the statue of the Little Mermaid.

The series of documents that you posted provide quite an insight into life aboard a coastal forces ML during the war years and the immediate aftermath. The strict discipline come across quite clearly. I wonder what the operation was that raised such concerns over leaks of information passing between the crewmembers of ships in the same flotilla two years after the war ended. I doubt we’ll ever find out but it’s quite intriguing. My father’s experiences aboard a wartime motor launch were from the perspective a young rating, so it was interesting to see how things were from an officer’s standpoint.

From everything my father told me and from things I’ve read, especially on this forum, all Royal Navy personnel sent to Denmark at the end of the war, be they officer or crew member, enjoyed the time they spent there and the welcome they received. So, it was surprising to read about a confrontation between crewmembers and Danish Nationals.

The crew of ML 207 definitely preferred Denmark to post war Germany. Though it seems that the flotilla’s officers enjoyed themselves whatever the location; the dinner invitation from the officer’s mess of the Royal Harold at Kiel, and the signed wine list from Cuxhaven, tell their own story and are a wonderful snapshot of history as is all the information you posted.

[candler]

Wonderful, really interesting, some excellent detective work. Never thought of trying to locate them. Shame as have been to Kobenhaven a number of times whilst on tour with bands in the 80's and 90's. Sadly given that up now. But often thought of what it must have been like, when on the Puttgarden to Rodby and the Helsingor to Helsingborg ferry (before they built the bridge)
I found recently the notes of an obituary he wrote for himself !
That 571 was on coastal convoys, then fitted for mine sweeping, shallow moored mines. They swept ahead of D Day and various inner harbours. Apparently not very exciting work !
After VE day 571 was fitted with Ice sheathing (Copper on waterline) for Baltic service. He mentions being pleased not long range fuel tanks to get to Far East..
Seems quite busy apart from showing the flag escorting "Repatriation" ships to Russia to ensure German crews were returned.
Then on 220 to Norway to quell mutiny, disarming German mine sweeping crews as a result of trial of Doenitz at Nurenburg.
Then given command of 901 and that's as far as he wrote.
many thanks and
Kind regards

Andrew

[Gray207]

Andrew

The similarities between our fathers’ experiences are striking with them having taken part in similar operations at the same moments in time and having been stationed at the same quayside in the same ports. Your last post had some additional pieces of information that I found particularly interesting. Like ML 571, ML 207 was also fitted with a copper bottom after the war ended in 1945 – my father said the work was carried out in Kiel. A photograph of ML 207 in his album showing the ship in floating dry dock may well have been taken when the copper plating was being installed.

ML 297 Dry Dock 72dpi.jpg (93.03 KiB) Viewed 26868 times

I’ve always assumed that the added protection was to allow future deployment to warmer waters or preparation for sale to those located in such climes, where wood boring marine life can be a problem. However, your explanation that the copper plating was ice sheathing to enable winter service in the Baltic makes complete sense. That fact that your father was involved in escorting reparations vessels to Russia and bringing the German crews home again also tallies with my father’s experience. He told me that, despite warning salvos fired across the bows of their ships, the German sailors refused to sail unless they were guaranteed a safe return. The Germans were terrified of the Russians and rightly so, such was the hatred that the Russian people had for Germany at the end of the war having suffered terribly at the hands of the Nazis. It was only when Royal Navy ships were assigned to escort the reparations convoys to Russia, and bring German crews home again once the vessels were delivered, that the crews very reluctantly agreed to set sail. I was also delighted to have corroboration that these voyages to and from Russia took place. Some texts I’ve come across state that all reparations involving ships were complete by the end of 1945. I don’t know the basis of the claim but it is clearly incorrect.

My father always said that Russia was the destination but I can’t recall him mentioning the name of the port and I never thought to ask. My research has indicated that Libau, Latvia may have been the destination. I suppose Latvia then being occupied by the soviets was regarded as Russia to those involved at the time. Did your father ever mention the destination of the reparation convoys? It would be great to find out. My father also described a particularly violet storm during one voyage to ‘Russia’. Did your father ever mention something similar? Again, it would be wonderful to add a little more to what I know.

[candler]

Hi,

Thank you for your reply and the information. Fascinating and makes me wish I had asked more or persuaded my father to write more down. I think it was his intention but he ran out of time. So sadly this is all I know. I have his cap, ratings shirt and his duffle coat.

kind regards

Andrew

[Gray207]

German E-Boats were a constant threat to Costal Forces during the war and they carried out numerous devastating strikes on Allied vessels around Britain’s coasts. Some months back I described the attack on convoy CW-243, when the minesweeping trawler HMT Pine, and the merchantmen SS Emerald and SS Caleb Sprague, were torpedoed and sunk causing the tragic loss of more than fifty men with more injured. I thought members would be interested to hear about another E-boat attack involving ML 207 and the 1st ML flotilla. It took place before my father joined the ship, but those of the crew who were there often spoke about it. The flotilla was based at HMS Midge in Great Yarmouth at the time patrolling and escorting convoys off the East Coast.

On October the 6th, 1942, Convoy FN-832, comprising 25 ships, left Southend heading for Methil, Scotland: a port on the Firth of Forth about 20 miles north of Edinburgh. Soon after, the convoy was detected by the Luftwaffe and details passed to three groups of E-boats lying in wait further up the coast. At roughly 04:30 the next morning, with the convoy 10 miles northeast of Cromer, two of the German flotillas, SFltl-2 and SFltl-4, attacked from the north with 9 E-Boats. The third, SFltl-6 consisting of a further 8 boats, failed to locate the convoy due to bad weather.

The E-boats fired 12 torpedoes striking seven vessels including, ML 339, together with three other Royal Navy ships and three merchantmen. Tragically, 41 brave men lost their lives in the attack. Two ships, HMS Caroline Moller and SS Jessie Maersk, sank immediately. Two others, The Sheaf Water and SS Ilse, managed to limp away but sank later off Sea Palling. HMS Sheldrake and HMT Monimia, although badly damaged, survived.

During the assault, the remaining motor launches of the 1st ML flotilla went to ML 339’s aid but, outnumbered and surrounded, came under sustained attack themselves. During the subsequent battle, while most the MLs attempted to draw fire, ML 207 managed to get alongside 339 and rescued the surviving crew. When last seen, ML 339, was ablaze and sinking. Even so, the E-Boat crews were attempting to attach a line to the ship and tow her away. Subsequently a destroyer intervened and saw the attackers off, but ML 339 scummed to her fate and sank.

ML 207 ferried 43 of the survivors from the stricken ships to Great Yarmouth. Sadly, three of ML 339’s crew were amongst the 41 fatalities. Sub Lieutenant Derek Winter Eastgate of the Royal New Zealand Naval Reserve and Able Seaman Ronald Lee were killed when the ML was torpedoed and strafed with machinegun fire. 19-year-old seaman Alec Slade, despite being rescued, died from his injuries.

The stricken vessels now lie on the seabed off Cromer, with ML 339 still in her protective position guarding against seaward attack on the starboard flank; the merchantmen she was trying to protect, to her port.

I managed to obtain a copy of the Admiralty War Diary entry that details the attack and have included an extract from it below. For those interested, a fascinating recording of William Arthur Gosling recounting the incident can be found on the Imperial War Museum’s web site at:

https://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/80032486

William was a gunner aboard ML 206 and his recollection of what happened begins 21 minutes and 6 seconds into the first tape and continues onto the second. He refers to the stricken ML as ML 334, not ML 339, though I think he can be more than forgiven for the slight mix-up given the passage of time.

Some of the vessels sunk or badly damaged in the attack are also pictured below.

Extract from the Admiralty War Diaries Detailing the Attack on Convoy FN-832

SS Jessie Maersk

The Jessie Maersk began its wartime role with a mutiny. The ship was sailing in the Irish Sea in 1940 when Denmark, its home country, fell under Nazi occupation. The master decided to head for a neutral Irish port, but the crew mutinied and forced the ship to dock at Cardiff. The master subsequently reported the crew to the police, but they ended up being thanked for their action, whilst the master was detained as a potential Nazi sympathiser. The ship subsequently came under the control of the Ministry of War Transport and operated by joint British and Danish crews until her tragic sinking.

SS Sheaf Water

SS Ilse

The Iles has the dubious distinction of leaving two sperate wreck sites off the East coast. The first comprises the ships original bows, which sank when she struck a mine on the 20th of October 1941. The aft end was salvaged and a new forepart constructed at Middlesbrough only for the ship to be sunk completely when convoy FN-832 was attacked the following year.

HMS Caroline Moller

HMS Sheldrake