CHAPTER 7
‘ROLL OUT THE BARREL’
By the time Hipper had switched her fire to Obedient, the situation aboard Achates was less than encouraging. Chief Engineer Peter Wright, his head and shoulders poking up over the starboard edge of the wrecked bridge, reported to Lieutenant Peyton-Jones that the ship had taken a direct hit just below. The shell had torn a gaping hole in the port side before exploding in the seamen’s bathroom, putting the nearby gunnery transmission station out of action and killing most of its crew. The explosion also fractured the after bulkhead of compartments already flooded earlier in the day, and extended the area of hull damage along the port side of the forecastle. A huge hole had been made in the ship’s side abreast No. 2 boiler room, which had to be closed down and abandoned. Light and power in many parts of the ship had failed, and casualties had been severe. Decks and passageways were encumbered with the dead and wounded, but of James MacFarlane, the ship’s doctor, there was no sign. It was assumed that he had been blown over the side as he journeyed between first-aid stations established at either end of the ship. Lieutenant Peyton-Jones ordered the crew to fall out from action stations, and for all available hands to assist Peter Wright in his efforts to restore what services he could and limit further flooding.[119]
By now Achates had taken on a 15° list to port, and being down by the head became difficult to steer. Nevertheless, with the aid of a boat’s compass in the wheelhouse, it was possible to maintain a zigzag course across the stern of the convoy while laying a smokescreen; however, speed had reduced to 12 knots. Gun flashes could still be seen to the north and north-west, and at 11.45 a visual signal was flashed to Hyderabad to ask if the smokescreen was still effective. The reply was that it was ‘most useful’.[120]
As time passed the list slowly increased, and as it did so more and more holes, as yet unplugged, sank below the water line. Eventually, at 13.00, Peter Wright reported to Peyton-Jones that, although the struggle still went on to save the ship, it was no longer possible to maintain steam in the only remaining boiler. Smoke stopped belching from the funnel, and Achates wallowed to a halt some 3 miles (4.8 km) on the starboard quarter of the convoy. The two men discussed the possibility of arranging a tow, and Wright went off to make preparations. Sadly, that was the last that Peyton-Jones saw of the Chief Engineer.[121]
On a salvaged box lamp, Yeoman Albert Taylor called up the nearest escort, the trawler Northern Gem, signalling ‘Not under control. Please stand by me’, adding a request to be taken in tow. However, this proved to be impractical with the existing degree of list, and Peyton-Jones had no option but to issue instructions to launch boats and carley floats, and get the wounded and everyone else onto the upper deck. Northern Gem’s skipper, Lieutenant Aisthorpe, later explained that the message flashed on the box lamp had been so difficult to read in the poor light that he half-thought that it might be transmitted by an enemy destroyer. As Northern Gem slowly approached, Achates started to roll slowly onto her port side, Peyton-Jones and Yeoman Taylor having to climb over the edge of the bridge onto the side of the wheelhouse, hauling crewmen up out of the wheelhouse passage, now at their feet, as they did so. The ship lay completely on her beam ends, with water pouring through ventilator outlets, doors, hatches, and the horizontal funnels. Lieutenant Peyton-Jones had time to hang his binoculars neatly on a convenient projection before the ship capsized completely, and the men found themselves in the freezing Arctic waters. As he struck out to get clear of the ship, Peyton-Jones looked back and saw her stern pointing skywards as she slowly disappeared.[122]
Achates sank at around 13.00, her position approximately 73°03’ N, 30°42’ E.
A good number of rafts and carley floats had been launched from the ship, and the First Lieutenant swam to one and climbed on, his chief concern now being that Northern Gem might have trouble locating them in the gathering darkness. The floats were provided with a flashing light for just such an emergency, and Peyton-Jones held it aloft for several minutes, thanking Providence that it was functioning correctly. Attracted by the light and his calls, some fifteen men gathered around the float, including Coxswain Daniel Hall. Wounded men, and those who seemed most distressed, were manhandled onto the float, and Peyton-Jones told them that Northern Gem was on her way. A suggestion was made that a sing-song would keep up their spirits, and they began to sing, a little uncertainly at first, the popular pub anthem ‘Roll out the Barrel’. This was taken up by others in the water around them, and whether it helped them or not, it is on record as having amazed and inspired their rescuers.[123]