The Garry managed to collect quite a bit of credit one way and another. Some merited and some not altogether merited.
On one occasion, bringing down a single ship of considerable speed and something especially valuable, we were passing the Wash (rather a notorious spot for losing ships to a submarine that was reputed to lie there). We met the Destroyer on patrol and knowing also from experience that it was a good spot for fish, I made a signal, “Going to drop a depth charge. Will you pick up the fish and bring some in with you?” He followed at a respectable distance astern, ready to drop his boats in the water and pick up the fish. Just one on each side of the Transport, having previously warned him, so as to avoid giving those on board an unnecessary jar.
To be in the vicintity of a depth charge when it explodes is to get both a mental and physical shock of the first water. Unbeknown to me there must have been some Big Bug on the Transport, for, to my surprise, the Admiral got a most effusive letter commending the “Defensive Action of the Garry, ets., etc.” Little did he realise I just wanted some fish.
A little later I nearly got caught out at the same game.
With another Destroyer we were bound up for the Firth of Forth to pick up a Convoy coming across from Norway and as we were due to be in a locality where I knew there was good cod, I made the other chap a signal that I was going to drop a depth charge at 7 a.m. and would give him some fish for breakfast. When 7a.m. came, as bad luck would have it, we met a ship coming down, escorted by a Destroyer ( miles ahead of her) and a Blimp. The Destroyer, being out of range and hearing, I determined not to be done out of our fish, so let go. The Transport thought he had caught a packet at first, but, to their relief they found it was only us at our games, whilst we lowered our boats and picked up a nice catch for both ships’ crews. Whilst our boats were in the water, the Blimp came nosing around, no doubt just out of sheer curiosity, wondering what we were doing. It would have been all right if he had left it at that, but he didn’t and a few days later I got a signal from the Admiral of the East Coast, to “Report what your boats were doing in the water on such and such a date in latitude and longitude so and so. Well, I couldn’t say we were looking for a submarine with the ship's boats and I was not going to say we were picking up fish for breakfast, so, knowing the Navy mind, I signaled in reply, “Re your 0014. Submit boats were examining objects on surface of water.” It was quite true and as I heard nothing further, my reply was evidently satisfactory.
As far as possible we used to work in two divisions. One with R.N. men in command and the other with R.N.R. chaps in command. This set up a useful bit of rivalry and it was due to this disposition that I was able to prove out my “Theory” of effective defence on Convoy escort.
If I was Senior Officer of Convoy, the instructions were, “Act first and report afterwards.” They were encouraged to think for themselves and take the risk. The result was, that each Destroyer was as good as a Division, in that she was an independent unit free to do what she pleased within reasonable limits. If a submarine tried its games, each ship went for him as and how she could. Everyone concentrated on the spot without waiting for signals and from every angle. As she came within possible range of where the submarine might then be, she commenced to let go depth charges. Other Destroyers coming into the fray from different angles, also let go. Whilst the M.L.’s also tore around letting go indiscriminately. Each one had to keep a mighty close eye on the business end of a ship crossing his bows, or he might find himself gaily sailing over a spot where a depth charge had just been sown, with every chance of it coming up through his bottom. In point of fact it’s not safe to be within a couple of hundred yards when one does detonate. A Destroyer, for instance, should be making her twenty knots when she lets go if she’s not going to risk blowing her own bottom in. To obviate this risk, with the trawlers, which had not the speed to get out of range of their own depth charges, they were fitted with depth charge throwers, which flung the charge out abreast of them to a safe distance. Those ships dropping them from their sterns, you could keep your eye on, but even then it was hard enough to keep clear, but when three or four trawlers joined in the crossword puzzle and lumped off their depth charges in all odd and sundry directions, the confusion certainly became worse confounded and the water for a mile or more around, a churned up mass, with each ship steering in every direction. It was a miracle that we never had a collision.
Occasionally we scored with a direct hit and then there was definite proof. Other times, just a spread of oil, big or little, according to the damage done. More frequently just nothing at all, though that didn’t say we hadn’t sent to sub. to her last account.
Neither “verbal proof” nor “traces of oil” were accepted as evidence of a bag. Bring in a body, or any part of the internals of a submarine and you were duly credited. But that was mighty difficult when it was considered what a small amount of buoyant substance goes into the structure of one of these underwater craft. Even then, nothing less than an absolutely direct hit would bring it out. Many a time and often, I was convinced in my own mind and to my complete satisfaction that we had put one down, but lacking any sort of acceptable proof, I merely submitted the time honoured report, without any claim — just resting on the satisfaction of another Convoy delivered intact.
We got our second “unofficial” sub. off the Firth of Forth one night. I call it unofficial, since we again couldn’t claim, though in this case also there was not a shadow of doubt. We had brought along one of the big Convoys across the North Sea and, passing the Firth, those that were bound there had broken off.
It was a ticklish job, this breaking off. Pitch dark and no one showing the glimpse of a light. A dozen or more ships to break away and worm themselves free of the Convoy, steering a course at an angle to the other ships, crossing one’s ship’s stern, another’s bow. Only a suspicion of broken water to be seen in the dark and then merely a guess as to whether it is from a ship’s bow or her propeller. The man on the bridge must judge right and quickly, for a mistake means not only the probable loss of his own ship, but may involve half a dozen others coming up astern. Added to this, there were always two or three Destroyers breaking off at the same time. Still, I never saw an accident; all credit to the men in the Merchant Ships.
The night to which I was alluding, those ships bound in for the Firth had broken off and the rest of the Convoy had formed up again. I had just taken the Garry round the rear end of the Convoy to see there were no stragglers and was making up again to the position we always kept, on the seaward side of the rear ships of the Convoy, when a submarine, thinking the whole, of the Convoy had passed, came up and broke surface with his conning tower.
As I have already explained, we kept all guns loaded with the breech mechanism lever just withdrawn. All that any man had to do was to push the B.M. lever home and fire. The look-out at the after end of the ship, whose station was alongside the after twelve pounder, saw the submarine break surface — and here was where our system came in. Instead of rushing to the bridge to report and so losing sight of his object, or even yelling along the decks in the hope of someone passing the word, he at once trained his gun on the submarine as she rose and let fly.