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Captain's Reprimand

Gibraltar, early 1943

About this time, war in North Africa was coming to a close and the submarine depot ship HMS Maidstone had been dispatched to Algiers, leaving just a handful of submarine spare crew behind. As a Spare Crew Petty Officer, I had been left behind to receive any submarines coming out from UK. Our accommodation was a simple corrugated shed. Our job was to attend the incoming submarines, securing to the jetty. Most would only stay for a couple of days.

Submarine Sickle secured alongside and I was most surprised to see emerge from the fore-hatch an Able Seaman, an old friend of mine whose name was Sammy Mobbs. We had sailed together previously in a ship HMS Locust and had joined submarines at the same time. We renewed our friendship.

HMS Sickle left next day to go to Algiers and berth alongside HMS Maidstone. Within a few days I received a draft to join submarine Sickle at Algiers.

I took passage in a submarine named Unswerving, and on arriving at Algiers, I discovered that Sickle was on patrol for 20 days. Thus I became Spare Crew awaiting Sickle's return.

From the deck of HMS Maidstone, I was casually taking in the hustle and bustle of an S Class submarine preparing to go to sea in a few hours' time.

The Tannoy system blared out a message: "Petty Officer Rose, Spare Crew report to Commander". I dutifully reported and was instructed to join the submarine preparing to go to sea, as their 2nd Petty Officer had fallen sick: appendix it was thought to be. I hurriedly packed my holdall and reported down in the submarine to the First Lieutenant. Soon we were out to the open sea.


Saracen

The layout of the control room was so familiar, virtually the same as all S Class submarines. I had previous knowledge of submarine Saracen recently. I could use the analogy of a bus driver jumping into a bus; no need even to think of controls, as layout has the controls all in the same position and nature.

This is where my big mistake occurred. I should have familiarised myself with the emergency diving button position that activated the diving klaxon, which, when triggered off had a chilling, frightening sound which sent all personnel to their appropriate stations to take the submarine down.

On the order to dive, my job, as Petty Officer of the watch was to press the klaxon button to dive the submarine, then take up my position to take the submarine down. In an emergency dive, there would be a cry of "Dive, Dive, Dive!" shouted down from the control bridge. On hearing this shout, I would reach out and press the klaxon alarm, which sent everyone to their diving positions.

I heard the order shouted out "Dive, Dive, Dive!" My job was now to press the klaxon button, reached up to press it, BUT, BUT, BUT the button wasn't there, WHERE IS IT? The crew were waiting for the klaxon to sound before they executed their diving procedures, such as opening vents to let air out and water in, giving negative buoyancy.

BUT, BUT, BUT I couldn't find the button, it wasn't where it ought to be, right hand side of the ladder. I found it on the other side of the ladder. The Captain and two lookouts came tumbling down the ladder, falling into the control room, and pressed it urgently twice, we were in business and were diving.

I felt the eyes of my fellow submariners and officers on me, particularly the Captain, who calmly said to me "Why the delay in sounding the klaxon?" I explained, he retorted "No damn excuse, you should have checked the position of the diving button".

At this moment an almighty explosion shook and shattered the submarine.

The reason we had to dive, a friendly RAF plane had spotted us just outside Algiers Harbour and decided to drop a friendly depth charge which had exploded over the spot where, had I activated the diving klaxon, we would have been, and would have copped it, as it were. To further explain, because we did not dive, but remained on the surface, we had proceeded a matter of a couple of hundred yards away from the exploding depth charge.

Later on, the Captain, approaching me in a confined space where two people had to pass and stood back to allow the Captain to pass, he paused, and with a very wry smile on his face, looked straight at me and said nothing, just shook his head and walked on to the control room.

I cynically mused, thinking he has written out his report to Admiralty, London, stating how he took evasive action by diving later than immediately, thus evading the friendly depth charge.

I was still embarrassed over the incident, but consoled myself with the fact that we had survived.

On arriving back at Algiers I was pleased to see the Petty Officer I had replaced waiting to rejoin his submarine, but was more pleased to see HMS Sickle alongside depot ship Maidstone, the submarine that was to be my home for the next six months.

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