While Jackson was doing what he could for the wounded, Lt. Taudevin appeared at his elbow and said, "Thank heaven you are all right, Doc. We are not abandoning ship. Tell the wounded." Then he went calmly aft and, in as firm a voice as he could manage, he told those wounded who were conscious to stay under cover and sit down.
No one has a clear recollection of what took place on those smoking, bloody decks littered with the wounded hoarsely calling for help. There was terrible confusion and one or two cases of panic. While some men with shattered legs were dragging themselves along the deck on all fours, other wounded lay moaning quietly on the slanting decks. One or two staggered to the rail and threw themselves overboard. They were either trying to save themselves from the sinking ship by reaching the floats or drown themselves deliberately, as they knew they were so badly wounded they only faced a painful lingering death.
Amid the confusion, Chief Engineer Griffiths saw Engine Room Artificer Hayhoe shutting off the steam throttle and shouted, "What the hell are you doing?" Hayhoe replied, "There is no steam, Chief. All the boilers have gone except Number Three."
Griffiths and Hayhoe climbed down to the damaged Number One boiler room. There were only two hatches so just the two of them went down, for if the ship suddenly began to sink a third might have no time to climb up.
The hole in the ship's side near the engine room, although four feet long, was well above the water-line. The sea was still pouring into Number One boiler room, but there was steam in the gauges and the steering gear was undamaged. At the same time, Stoker EO. Dawson reported that Number Two boiler was also badly damaged but Number Three was intact.
The ship's list was increasing and Griffiths knew if he did not get her underway soon she would sink. Normally the way to correct a list is to flood the opposite compartment, but they were shipping water so fast from the bow damage that the decks were only two or three feet above the waves. Any more flooding would certainly have capsized her.
Standing waist-deep in water in the flooded engine room Griffiths had a hasty conference with Hayhoe. Ships' boilers must use the purest distilled water, and in normal times Admiralty experts constantly examine the water-carrying gear for purity. Now this had all gushed away. There was only one way they could keep the ship moving — to use salt water. But would the boilers continue to work or would salt bubbling up with the steam soon choke the pipes?
They managed to patch up the large hole by stuffing it with hammocks and putting in their only collision mat. Griffiths then ordered a hose slung over the side and the bilge pump rapidly pumped in twenty tons of sea water.
To lighten the ship, the crew were frantically throwing everything overboard. Lockers, sacks of potatoes — even the heavy range-finder was unscrewed — were thrown into the sea. The crew also wrapped the wounded in blankets and put them on the quarter-deck or under the break in the fb'c'sle. EO. Gordon started cutting off the rigging which hung dangling over the decks from the shattered mast.
Campbell and Vivacious were searching for German destroyers ahead of the battleships. As his other ships vanished in the mist, Pizey decided that in the circumstances the safest course to steer was 180 degrees, which meant turning completely back on his tracks in the hope of making contact with the flotilla. Shortly after turning on to the new course, Pizey saw a ship ahead of him which he thought was the Prinz Eugen. As they drew nearer, he realized it was the Worcester, damaged and apparently stopped. She was two miles off Campbells port beam with smoke and steam pouring from her. Floating in the water near her were men clinging to floats. It was 3:57 p.m., and the Germans had just ceased firing.
When Worcester's crew saw Campbell and Vivacious approaching, they thought they were the German destroyers they had been expecting to come and finish them off. With all their guns out of action they waited for the end. Campbell tried to reach Worcester by short-wave radio, but along with practically everything else her radio had gone. She could only signal by lamp. It was not until Campbell began shouting to her by loud hailer that Worcester's dazed crew realized she was friendly.
When Campbell and Vivacious steamed out of the murk, the men on the Carley rafts gave the thumbs-up sign and started to paddle towards them. As they drew alongside Campbell, men swung overboard to try and pick them out of the sea.
It was at this moment that Sq. Ldr. Cliff with his torpedo-carrying Beauforts from 42 Squadron arrived on the scene. They ran straight into the great air battle which was still raging. Luftwaffe fighters were trying to shoot down RAF bombers as they dived through flak clouds thrown up by the Gneisenau, Prinz Eugen and their escort ships. Although the Germans had broken off the action because they could no longer see the British destroyers, both sides were clearly visible from the air. They were so near to one another that some of the Beaufort pilots thought the British destroyers were escorting the German ships.
As the Beauforts came down to wave height to drop their torpedoes, the heavy shells from the German ships smacked into the water between the planes.
Through the shell bursts Cliff saw a ship which he believed to be Scharnhorst, with a column of smoke pouring from her funnel. He flew over a destroyer and came down to within 1,100 yards of the ship to release his torpedo. As he banked steeply to port he saw another destroyer. A minute later he signalled base that he had dropped his torpedo, seen it run, but could not observe the result.
Following Cliff through this fierce barrage came Pilot Officer Birchly, who sighted two destroyers and a bigger ship which he also believed to be Scharnhorst. He flew over the destroyers to within 800 yards of the ship before dropping his torpedo.
The third Beaufort of the flight was piloted by Pilot Officer Kerr. He too saw a large "ship," which he was sure was the Scharnhorst, with four destroyers near it. Kerr came down to eighty feet off the water to drop his torpedo. Air-Gunner Sergeant Smith fired back at the destroyers, which were sending up clouds of flak bursts towards him. Both his wireless operator, Sergeant Waller, and his gunner, Sergeant Smith, reported that the warship was "listing badly with smoke pouring from her bows."
Pilot Officer Archer in another Beaufort also saw a big ship with a large superstructure and a short funnel which he too took for the Scharnhorst. As he dropped his torpedo his plane was hit by a shell which ripped through the port engine. Another made a hole in the tail and blew the perspex off the rear turret, wounding Sergeant Betts, the gunner, in the face and arm. Shrapnel grazed the leg of radio operator, Sergeant Cain.
But as the Beauforts pressed home their attack at nearly wave height, one of them made what might have been a tragic mistake. In the air and sea mix-up, one pilot mistook Campbell for a German ship. When Pizey saw the torpedoes drop, he thought they were aimed at the Prinz Eugen, which he knew was hidden near by in the mist. Then his alert Asdic operator reported: "Torpedo at green forty-five approaching on a steady bearing."
To his horror, Pizey realized it was coming at him. It could not have happened at a worse moment, for nearly a dozen of his men were hanging over the side on ropes trying to rescue the Worcester ratings before they drifted away in the freezing water. He realized there was only one thing to do to save his ship and its crew — go full speed astern. It was an agonizing decision to have to make, because it meant temporarily abandoning men in these icy waters.