Written by James Hammond

 

The last person I wish to mention I did not meet. Arnold S. had been the Principal Officer in the Marine Office having retired a few years before I became a staff member there. He was still very active in social circles involving other staff members and his name cropped up often, in files and in conversation. From the latter it was clear he was very well regarded but back then, in the early 1990s, I assumed it was because of his role as a boss.

Only a few years ago I read his obituary and it contained a detail from his wartime service. He was, if I remember correctly, an Australian and may have served in the Australian Merchant Navy. Arnold was Second Engineer on a merchant vessel which was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine. Orders were given to abandon ship. Having secured the engine room and evacuated the personnel Arnold exited the engine room and was incensed to see the submarine stationary on the surface just astern of the ship. The ship carried a gun on the aft end and what angered Arnold was the two Australian gunners just waiting to jump into a lifeboat. He asked why they did not shoot at the submarine (I think you can imagine the language used) and was informed that the submarine was too close and they could not depress the barrel of the gun sufficiently to bear on it.

Arnold ordered the gunners back to their gun, re-entered the engine room, started the main engine and immediately put her full ahead. This was sufficient to trim the ship and bring the gun to bear, and they succeeded in disabling the submarine. I have no knowledge of subsequent events. Presumably they were rescued as Arnold lived a long life afterwards.

Those mentioned in this article are the only people I knew directly or indirectly who took part in the war, but there are many others of course who played different parts and all of them vital. It is one thing to read or hear of accounts but quite another to actually know or have met those directly involved. For example it was only a few years ago that my wife’s aunt, when talking about nothing in particular, told us how she was invited as the works foreman (and some would scream at that term now) to witness the loading into a ship of the flexible pipeline that carried petrol across the Channel after the D-Day landings. But for a chance moment when she decided to relay that information we would never have known.

Similarly there is in our small town a memorial laid in 2001 to the officers and men of the 1st SAS led by Lt. Col. “Paddy” Mayne, one of the British Army’s most decorated officers, stationed here during the war. Although I have passed the memorial many times it was only a chance discussion in the street with a man I only knew by sight, who told me of the history of Paddy Mayne. From his manner it seems that he knew him personally if not served under him. What a difference that close personal knowledge makes.

During the writing of this article my wife purchased a recently published history of our small valley. In it is a list of the names of those fallen in WW1 inscribed on the War Memorial, as there is in all villages and towns in the land. Although I have walked past the Memorial many times in the thirty years I have lived here and read the names on occasion, it was only when I looked closely at the list I realised the devastation caused. Rows of next door neighbours suffering losses, quite a few instances of brothers being lost, obvious because of the names and addresses given. For such a small town/village it seems that it was not possible to walk more than 20 yards, anywhere, without coming to a place that had suffered loss. When called upon 20 years later, as in the rest of the country, they responded again.

Will we see their likes again? I don’t know. I hope we never have to, but that hope is shrinking almost daily.

(You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.)