Chapter Four

One half expected anchorage at Kirkwall would provide some news. It seemed the anchor was barely dropped before orders came to prepare to join a convoy again. The convoy proceeded southward from Kirkwall, some 60 ships now apparently with new marching orders and destinations. The expression logistics was not as yet a part of my vocabulary in any sense but I came to appreciate the task of arranging movement of this semi-armada, as it were. It seemed no one really knew who issued the marching orders; one expected the English Admiralty, at London, (-who they?), must be involved somehow.

In addition to the destroyers screening the convoy two Hurricane fighter planes, Oscar the A.B. provided this information, were flying around the convoy from time to time. Bringing coffee to the bridge I gleaned that air attacks likely could be expected in this area; I did not try to find out how they knew, perhaps it was just guess work...Back in the galley discussion around this possibility caused some concern. The expression "sitting ducks", or if a comparable expression existed, likely would not have been found humorous.

Comedy and Near Miss;

The convoy had passed by the entrance to the Firth of Forth to the West, the approach to Edinburgh. We were out of sight of land, and Ringulv was headed for South Shields in Tynemouth, the New Castle area. The adage, 1-carrying coal to New Castle’, was brought up, the expression reasonably understood with some irony; New Castle was a known coal shipping area. The sea was as placid as an inland sea in the summer time; little did we know that the first real exposure to the reality of war was in the offing..

Suddenly one was aware of two destroyers, belching smoke, steaming "up" the convoy at top speed, fairly throwing the sea ahead of their bows. Two, one-two, shocks jarred the ship. one felt as if she was lifted out of the water. "We’re hit!" hollered the Chief Mate on the bridge, "head for the lifeboats!", and the two mates and the helmsman Olav "raced" down to the deck and up onto the boatdeck. (For reasons not explained the Chief and third mate were sharing watches with the Captain and the Second Mate relieving them. I found it wisest not to ask at this time.) One of the sailors was already set to chop the lanyard tethering one of the lifeboats in the swung-out davids with a small ax stationed there for that purpose. Fortunately Oscar, who will figure prominently later, working on the aft deck hollered, -"it was only the depth charges from the destroyers!". We now understood we were under possible U-boat attack.... (like a caricature light bulb over the ship?).

The mates and the helmsman scampered back up to the bridge to find the Captain, with life west and in stocking feet at the helm, the ship still proceeding at about 10 knots in the convoy. The usual order to the engine room to stop the engine had been overlooked. (If this part of the story, and condition, appears somewhat confusing, it was. But the two deck Officers were old hands, I was just a first trip mess-boy!) On the other hand, the engine crew thought the ruckus was due to the bunker suddenly shifting!. (Amounts of coal built up on top as coal was drawn from below). The Captain returned to his quarters just under the bridge, words to the dejected bridge crew were not necessary, at this time anyway. A little while later in my messroom with coffee, not a regular coffee drinker, I tried to tell myself, because I had been ready to abandon the ship, it was just a learning period, for me...

Everyone trying to get back to normal, 4 bombs suddenly exploded in the sea straddling the Commodore ship, a converted yacht, steaming about a 100 yards ahead of the convoy. A four-engine bomber had come in from the sun and was not observed ‘till the bombs suddenly exploded. The crew on the Commodore ship likely heard the whine of the bombs before they exploded. Everyone ducked, as if on cue, and the Chief Mate hollered, "get the lookout down from the crow’s nest!". But Odd, the lookout, was already standing right behind him on the bridge, the skin of his hands singed from sliding down the ladder from the crow’s nest 70ft above deck, moving lightning-wise across the deck and up to the bridge. While trying to get our mental bearings we observed belly-up dead fish floating by as we moved ahead still stunned, (we were), from this first direct war experience. Oscar explained the fish were killed by the shock force from the depth charges and the bombs.

The escorting Hurricane fighters had disappeared just after the bombs exploded, almost to our surprise, only to reappear as they were attacking the German now right over our convoy. They appeared like two angry bees as they pressed their attacks. One of the fighters came up just under the bomber, as if hanging there, then falling away, seemingly, to change attack mode. But before the two fighters could attack again the bomber started to circle downward and three parachutes appeared. It was rumored later that only one of the parachutes was recovered with a crew member; we never heard anything about the other crew members.

The bomber continued circling downward; there seemed almost to exist a type of ecstasy, like a first row ringside, seat; the enemy, the new found enemy, was coming a cropper. It was like some satisfaction, uplifting at the time. The plane finally tipped over and dove, ever so gracefully I thought, into the sea on the port side of the convoy.

My thoughts were taken back to his high school days when I was learning German and English. German Naval ships would come to our hometown on summer cruises and the high school students had opportunity to practice their German. The crews would come ashore in groups, line up in formation, and march off singing on excursions to different points of interests. Some of my friends found this as a part of the German order to be admired; but there were some of us who found this just a forced, structured activity to support the new ‘third reich’ slogan -"Kraft durch Freude", i.e. strength through joy.

During the crew’s free time ashore I became acquainted with a young sailor from a light’ destroyer, "Die Bremse". His name was Heinz Bars. I remember he asked if I knew what the destroyer name meant. When I answered in the affirmative, -the bee, to which the sailor emphasized that as small as she seemed, she could be as dangerous as a bee. He was somewhat surprised at my question about the reason for the apparent ordered marches in formation and his only answer seemed to be that they were good for moral. I could not make him understand that ordered excursions for grown people were strange to the Norwegians. The English and French sailors would likely line up on the pier, as if to be counted by a junior grade Officer, then just take off...

Before the Germans left I agreed to correspond with the Heinz Bars, thinking it would be educational. But it wasn’t long before the letters started to become political in nature and the letters stopped as I told him the trust was lost. At that time, around -36, -37, the Germans had already purchased two Norwegian bi-weekly magazines extolling the "new Germany", which further added to my distrust. The magazines consisted of far more propaganda than news about Germany, per se. It was thought that they were not too effective. They appeared both overbearing and pompous. Brainwashing, as an expression, had not yet come into use but that clearly was the mode. I remember Goebbel’s tirades and wondered why anyone would believe them, even at that age.

Remembering a couple of my friends who sort of had expressed partial affinity for this German order would they have the same feelings now, about the enemy?... All this came to the fore as the news about the two day old invasion of Norway continued to be fragmentary and confusing.

At South Shields, east of Newcastle, the ship was to be fitted with an anti-magnetic mine cable, a degaussing cable; (-a technical evening course in electricity had vaguely acquainted me with magnetism and gauss, a magnetic unit). I was intrigued by the sidewheel tugboats being used on the Tyne river apparently because of their maneuverability and did not ever remember ever seeing them again. When more power was needed the deeper drafted propeller-, or screw-, driven tugboats were required.

Oddly, I can not remember much of anything about this city, except visits to the Seamen’s’ Church reading room. Information to be gleaned there was not helpful, it was fragmentary at best, hence not much help for one’s moral. We had some understanding of the status of Norwegian peace-time armed forces against Germans prepared for war.... Against this new activity, or lack of it, we wondered why this old ship was being fitted with this type protection against magnetic mines. Both the war, which we were now involved in, less than a week old, and the antimagnetic mine cable was as confusing as the new war itself.

It was as if the installation of the cable represented a holding action; there was no real plan. The Officers seemed to refrain from talking about it because of a seeming premise, not leading to any kind of satisfactory answer.... Someone brought up the fact that only the Germans were using these types mines which had been developed by Sweden just as the World War I ended; which, if anything, just added to the confusion. At 20, I mused that as the ship was old, I found all the Officers also old as well, -over 50. Some had gone back to sea because of the extra moneys added to the salaries in war bonuses. But I was not about to allay any of their actions or behavior to this condition; it was not a Navy ship, after all.

To show their patriotism some of the crew members were going to go un-shaven, -till the Germans were chased out again!. But the idea waned pretty soon. One seemed to become aware of lack of lessons about preparedness and some ignorance in face of the -’big picture’ unfolding. We were not alone, however, being ignorant about the generalities surrounding this new war; we were just carried along with the unfolding events, almost like a little toy play boat, on a little brook...