Morning Departure

This is an entirely fictitious story and has no relation to any know ship of the Royal navy or any particular set of circumstances.

It was 7.00 am on a typical January Monday morning. It was jut before dawn and a chill wind blew off the sea with a few tentative flakes of snow flying in the wind. The off duty crews of the various submarines that made up the sixth squadron, reluctantly left their warm beds and their wives and families to report back to their boats. These were the lucky ones; the ones who were allowed to live ashore with their families when they were off duty.

They walked in a steady silent stream down the hill to the dockyard, in one’s and two’s huddled in their overcoats, their collars turned up against the morning chill air and their hands deep in their pockets. They made their way to the dockyard, to catch the liberty boat out to the submarine depot ship. At this time of the morning no-one was talking very much. They were all cold and thinking about the day ahead.

As they arrived on board the depot ship HMS Rochester, they hurried away to their respective messes to change into their sea going kit; joining their mess mates who were already dressed for sea in their white sweaters, and quickly swallowing the last mug of tea at the breakfast table before joining their respective boats. Sometimes, they would be lucky enough, and have enough time, to scrounge a spare plate of egg and bacon before going on board the boat.

Tony Nash the Leading Signalman was one of these, and he responded happily to the “Morning Bunts” from all his mates. Going on board HMS Sirocco, Tony tried to keep clear of his boss Lieutenant Nick Holmes the Navigating Officer, who was also the Signals Officer. It was only an hour ago, that Tony had left Nicks wife in bed at her home, and he felt really guilty about the whole affair, he did not like deceiving such a nice bloke...

Fortunately, his own wife Fran was away looking after her sick mother. He had not spoken to her for about two weeks, as every time he called to speak to her, she was either out shopping, or visiting friends. However, her sister assured him that she was well, but Mother was still very ill and she thought it would be some time before Fran was able to come home again.

Tony knew he could not avoid Nick for ever and eventually he came face to face with Nick who gave him a cheery “Good Morning Tony – is everything OK?”
“Yes sir” Tony replied hoping that his guilt did not show on his face.
“Any news on your Mother in law?” Nick asked.
“It’s seems as though its going to be a long job sir, and it looks as though my wife will be away for another couple of weeks yet.”
Tony wondered for a moment, whether Nick knew something about the affair that he was having with his wife as he was looking a bit ill at ease.
Then he tried to be a little facetious as he said
“Well you are looking a bit knackered. I bet you’ve been burning the candle at both ends with Fran away? I had better warn all the girls that you are on the loose.
Then more seriously he said. “Anyway Tony I think it’s about time we had a little chat.”

Tony felt really guilty, and felt himself panicking. He hoped he was not showing it. If only Nick knew that he had slept with his wife every night Nick had been duty officer, which had seemed to be on most nights for the past three weeks.

At times, he almost felt like blurting the truth out to Nick, who was really a nice guy for an officer. Every time he had slept with Izzy, and then had to face Nick afterwards he had determined to break it off with Izzy, and make a full confession to Nick. But his courage failed him every time, and then when he saw Izzy again he was lost. She was a very addictive woman.

He turned his mind to getting all his gear ready for sea. Once again, pushing his guilty thoughts to the back of his mind. He had to make sure that all the binoculars were in good condition, and ready for the Captain and the Officer of the watch ,the lookouts and himself, and that the signal lamp was working and stowed handily in the conning tower on its rack...

The “S” boats submarines were all veterans of the war, but they were still not very old. But now they were gradually giving way to the newer and larger “T” and “A” class boats that did most of the cold war patrol work. Now they were largely employed as training squadrons for the local Royal Navy Asdic training schools. Their main function was to act as target boats, for the young seaman asdic trainees who were spending the day doing sea training in the accompanying anti submarine corvettes.

Each day the submarines would go to sea accompanied by two anti submarine corvettes and dive in a prescribed area. The trainees in the accompanying ships would go through a number of maneuvers to test or enhance their asdic skills. Sometimes, the submarines trailed a float on the surface to avoid accidents and help the trainees find their targets. In really rough weather they would attach an inflated condom to the float, to make it easier for them to see.

In the afternoon when the exercises were finished the corvettes would drop two grenades as a signal to surface. The submarine would fire two smoke candles when they were on their course to surface. As soon as they were safely on the surface, the Corvettes would then say “Goodbye” and rush away back to harbour... Meanwhile, the boats would be left having to pump low pressure air into their main ballast tanks to get full buoyancy, and gradually work up to full speed, being left following a long way behind.

This was a normal Monday morning and HMS Sirocco was unlucky enough to have the farthest area from harbour and was to be the first submarine to slip from the depot ship. This morning as usual, Leading Seaman Frank Carson the Second Coxswain was already on the casing, well before special sea duty men were called. He was dressed ready for sea, and was busy getting the cables singled up, and ready for slipping.

Frank was a big man. He had been born in Sheffield and had been in the Navy for 18 years. He was a three badger which meant that he had three good conduct badges, which was respected by both officers and men alike. He was a stickler in making sure that everything was maintained in the correct order on the casing. He was a man of few words, but he had the ability to get all the casing party working as a team. Frank was a professional seaman, he had been in the navy since he was sixteen when he had joined the boys’ service, and the sea was the only thing he knew. He had survived five years of war service in boats, and now was moving rapidly towards his retirement age.

Frank had been married once during the war, but his wife had found the long separations, and the uncertainty of having a husband in submarines had been too much. They had separated, and she had gone home to her parents in Liverpool, only for her to be tragically killed in one of the many nightly air raids on the port.

Frank would ensure that later, when the boat slipped from the depot ship that the cables were all stowed, and lashed down properly, and that there would be no loose ends rattling to give away their position to the hunting ships overhead. His work on the casing was ostensibly supervised by Sub Lieutenant Mark Ransom, who was the young officer in charge of the casing party. But Mark knew from past experience that all would be well, if he left everything to Frank Carson and did not get in his way or countermand his orders...

Within a few moments special sea duty men was piped and the Captain, the First Lieutenant Alan Marshall and the Leading Signalman Tony Nash were soon all on the bridge. The Coxswain took his place on the wheel in the control room below and reported to the bridge
“Coxswain on the wheel Sir.”
The First Lieutenant reported to the Captain. ”Ready to proceed sir all hands are aboard, and the next of kin book had been sent aboard the depot ship. Sir”
“Thank you number one.” The Captain replied.

The Captain Mick Saunders was a Lieutenant and had finished his Perishers course to qualify him for command three months previously. He had previously served as the Pilot (Navigating Officer), and then First Lieutenant on two of the slightly bigger T Class boats, before being selected for the command course.

The standard of training was very high on the course, and only the best passed to eventually take command of a submarine. The officers, who failed, never had another appointment in submarines and were returned for duty in general service.

Sirocco was Micks first command and he was proud of her. He had a good crew and with this boat he was getting valuable command experience. His wife was not at all happy about him being in Submarines, and he was inclined to worry about having to leave her at times. She had in fact threatened to leave him, if he did not apply to go back to general service. But Mick was proud of his achievement, and longed to graduate to the command of one of the bigger boats, perhaps eventually a nuclear boat. His wife had known he was a submariner when she had married him, and he was not going to let her dictate his career path to him now.

Alan Marshall the First Lieutenant was jealous of his Captain. In seniority as a Lieutenant he was senior to the Captain, and at times delighted in being unobtrusively obstructive. He had twice been passed over for a place on the command course, and he knew that his time in submarines was now limited, unless his present Captain gave him a glowing recommendation. He hated having to take orders from him, and having to call him “Sir”

The Captain Mick Saunders was very aware of this petty behaviour, and was prepared to cut him a bit of slack; he did everything possible to ease their relationship. But in his heart he knew that Alan Marshall was not command material, and would never make it to his own command. His petty behaviour had not gone unnoticed and the time was coming when he knew he would have to take action

The First Lieutenant called down to the casing. “Let go Forrard. Let go aft” As the springs were released. And HMS Sirocco moved away slightly free from the adjoining boat in the trot. The morning swell in the harbour causing her to toss around slightly like a frisky colt glad to be free to run. The casing party on the adjoining boat quickly dropping fenders between them in case Sirocco should swing back and damage their ballast tanks.

The Captain ordered Starboard 10 down the voice pipe. Slow ahead both. As the boat started to move, the Leading Signalman piped the still and the First Lieutenant called “Attention on the casing.” As they all came to attention and the officers saluted the depot ship.

The depot ship signaled the “Carry on.” And within minutes the Sirocca was heading for the breakwater. Soon the main engines clutches were in and running, the casing party had cleared away and secured everything quickly and efficiently and had made their way via the bridge conning tower to go below. This would be the last time they would see daylight until they got back to harbour later that day.

In the control room Nick Holmes was bent over the charts. He called up to the Captain, giving him the recommended course to steer to get to their allotted diving area and their estimated time of arrival. Nick was quite popular with the crew, and like all good submariners he enjoyed the relaxed discipline of the submarine service. He too was feeling guilty at meeting Tony. He was determined that he would have it out with him sometime today, if he could get Tony on his own. He could not keep putting off the evil moment for their confrontation.

The weather was quite choppy and the Captain went below, leaving the First Lieutenant on the bridge for a few moments and changed into his Ursula suit that would keep him warm and dry on the passage out to the diving area, before returning to the bridge. Tony also went below and changed into his Ursula suit, and they both strapped on safety belts which hooked on to the internal bridge rail.

It took about an hour to reach their allotted diving area, by that time the sea was beginning to ease, and the two Corvettes had almost caught up with them. The Captain had a good look round with his binoculars and called down the voice pipe.
“Diving stations.” And then he turned to Tony, he ordered. “Clear the Bridge.” Tony Nash took the white ensign from its socket at the after end of the bridge and slid down the ladder to the control room just as the klaxon sounded twice, and the boat began to move slowly into the depths, as the vents on the main ballast tanks were opened one by one, spurting long streams of spray into the morning air...

Tony Nash checked that the Captain had closed the upper hatch safely, and then he closed and latched the lower hatch as soon as the Captain had reached the control room. Tony knew that if anything went wrong in closing the upper hatch, he would have to close the hatch and leave the Captain to his fate. In peacetime, the boat would surface quickly and pick him up. But in wartime when the boat was under attack then the Captain would have to be left to his inevitable fate.

The Captain ordered Periscope Depth. The boat steadied on 32 feet and the Captain had a good look round with the periscope and then he ordered “Sixty feet, steer 110.”
He was taking his wet Ursula suit off as the boat started her descent to sixty feet.
Suddenly the First Lieutenant ordered:” For Christ’s sake hold her.”
The Second Coxswain on the forrard hydroplanes said “She is not responding sir.”
The Captain ordered. “Full ahead both motors”, but it made little difference.
“Both hydroplanes to surface” still with little effect.
Then the order came “All hands aft” “Close main vents” “Pump A”
All the crew off duty rushed aft to the motor room and stokers mess to see if the extra weight at the after end would force the nose to come up, but it was to no avail as the Sirocco gently hit the sea bed at 130 feet.
“Stop Motors.” The Captain ordered then. “Full astern both.” The motors raced, the lights dimmed but nothing happened. They were stuck.
The Captain then ordered. “Stop Both” Twice more the Captain ordered full astern to no avail. There was a sudden silence in the boat as the realisation sunk in that the Sirocco was not going to come free easily.
The Captain Mick Saunders said “What happened Number one?”
“I don’t know sir. I checked the trim before we left.”
“Did you, then why did you not log it then?
“You forgot to log it or forgot to check?”
“I must have forgotten to check sir.” He said sheepishly.
It was obvious to everyone that the First lieutenant had slipped up, and had failed to carry out on of the most basic routine checks.
They all knew that the Captain would eventually carry the ultimate blame for the First Lieutenants negligence, and would face a court of enquiry for hazarding his ship if they eventually got free.
After some consultation with all the other officers the Captain said.
“OK number one, release the distress buoys, but we shall have to see if the tide change is any help to us later in the day. But the Corvettes will now know we are in trouble and should issue the Subsmash 2 alert. We can not attempt to make an escape until the sea is calmer anyway, and we have some more ships on the surface. Cut all unnecessary lights and cut all none essential power, all hands not on duty to their bunks we must save battery power and air at all costs. Keep one watch at diving stations.”

Then to the First Lieutenant.” I want you to break out and check all DSEA sets and immersion suits and log the results. I want no man to die today through faulty escape gear if we have to use it.”

Tony Marsh the Leading Signalman lay on his bunk. He thought about their situation. The First lieutenant had been bloody negligent; his petty jealousy of the Captain had been behind it. He had endangered all their lives, and they all knew it. Situations like this was something they had trained for, but hoped would never happen, and like the others he was fairly optimistic that they could all get out alive. Each one of them had requalified in the escape tanks only two months previously