The following is an account of one of our ML’s, 263,
ML’s were employed in a variety of ways, from desperate actions like the St Nazaire raid, clandestine work, to minesweeping and minelaying.
Their strength was their silence and therefore they were used much in special operations e.g.in the hazardous job of running trips to enemy occupied territory, delivering or collecting agents and retrieving escaping POWs.
They were Coastal Forces maids of all work – no job too big for them.
Peter Rendle’s story is from a region rarely written about, but off the coast of West Africa, war was just as intense.
B Class M.L’s were graceful looking ships, which belied their fighting capability when roused. KG.
Their strength was their silence and therefore they were used much in special operations e.g.in the hazardous job of running trips to enemy occupied territory, delivering or collecting agents and retrieving escaping POWs.
They were Coastal Forces maids of all work – no job too big for them.
Peter Rendle’s story is from a region rarely written about, but off the coast of West Africa, war was just as intense.
B Class M.L’s were graceful looking ships, which belied their fighting capability when roused. KG.
Continued/
Alter a final search; we made off back to Lagos with a total of 99 souls aboard ( we regretted not having achieved a century!); so we must have picked up about 80. The Master reported that all but three of those on board had been rescued and these had been in the - engine room, which must have been comprehensively shattered by the explosion -· hence the rapid sinking. So 263 was pretty crowded (I do not know whether this was a record number for a 'B' ML). We had to adopt on the spur of the moment a simple - but, these days, non-politically correct - means of) allocating space; Officers aft In the wardroom, white crew below in the fo'c'sle and the coloured crew on deck, with as much protection as we could provide. All our hands rallied round and provided hot drinks (and tots of rum or any who wanted it) and as many dry garments as they could rustle up.
One of our depth charges had stuck in its rack, after it had been primed and set. As a precaution we had to lever it out and drop it - and, of course, it went off`!
Not surprisingly this caused great momentary alarm among the rescued. Those on deck rose as a man when the thud was felt!
When we hit spot-on the buoy marking the swept channel into Lagos, just as dawn was breaking, the Master was most impressed with our navigation. This was, in fact, more by good luck than judgement because the easterly 'set' all along the coast was notoriously unpredictable, running as it did from perhaps two to five knots or more, as it please. (It was not unknown, if we were approaching the featureless coast from seaward, to call "Which way Takoradi?" to the offshore fishermen and for them to give us a cheery - and – reliable reply!
So - we made fast alongside at Lagos and I hurried to NOIC's office to report "263 back with the survivors", to which came the disconcerting reply "What surv1vors?"! I had to recount the whole story: only then were arrangements quickly made to do all that was necessary to deal with them. As for us - we were ordered to return forthwith to the location and search for any of the missing three who might have survived.
Although we had made repeated signals that night to report the sinking and our subsequent actions, no W/T acknowledgment had been discernable through the intense electrical interference which was (particularly bad at the time. As I learned from the uncomprehending reply at NOIC s office, the interference had nullified our efforts to get through.
Back in daylight, we readily found where the "NEW TORONTO? had gone down. It was marked by the bloated carcasses of the 150 or so cattle which had been deck cargo aboard. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, there was no trace of the three missing crew. We reported this - no W/T interference by now - and were ordered to return to Takoradri. Our dismay at having lost our whole convoy by enemy action was somewhat eased by learning when we got back that a night or two previously, some three ships, I think it was, had been sunk out of a convoy of six or seven on its way to Takoradr from Freetown, under what passed for heavy protection out there - a corvette, a couple of trawlers and an ML or two. It seemed that the U-boat had proceeded further westwards along the coast after this, and had, fortuitously, found itself approaching the eastbound "NEW TORONTO" coming eastwards.
Several weeks later, a cutting from the Manchester Evening News reached us. It turned out that the "NEW Toronto’s" radio operator had been a journalist with that paper and had written a graphic account of the sinking and the rescue. The tone was quite heartening though the description “the officers, three fresh faced boys .... " took a bit of swallowing! (Then, anyway, if not now).
Not so very long after that, I was relieved – at last - and eventually got home in April 1943. My joy at getting away was tinged with at least some regret at leaving 263, which had been my home since I had stood by her for the last stages of completion at Appledore in early summer 1941, I was even further dismayed when, much later, I heard that poor old 263 had been destroyed by fire in Freetown; and; much more seriously, that our excellent Motor Mechanic, who had come out in 1942, had perished in the fire. A Yorkshire man of few words, he had been a garage mechanic in some remote Pennine village. He maintained our engines superbly. He was someone whom the expression " the salt of the earth" fitted like a glove. (I hope someone else will come up with an account of this sad episode, of which I have no details at all)
Alter a final search; we made off back to Lagos with a total of 99 souls aboard ( we regretted not having achieved a century!); so we must have picked up about 80. The Master reported that all but three of those on board had been rescued and these had been in the - engine room, which must have been comprehensively shattered by the explosion -· hence the rapid sinking. So 263 was pretty crowded (I do not know whether this was a record number for a 'B' ML). We had to adopt on the spur of the moment a simple - but, these days, non-politically correct - means of) allocating space; Officers aft In the wardroom, white crew below in the fo'c'sle and the coloured crew on deck, with as much protection as we could provide. All our hands rallied round and provided hot drinks (and tots of rum or any who wanted it) and as many dry garments as they could rustle up.
One of our depth charges had stuck in its rack, after it had been primed and set. As a precaution we had to lever it out and drop it - and, of course, it went off`!
Not surprisingly this caused great momentary alarm among the rescued. Those on deck rose as a man when the thud was felt!
When we hit spot-on the buoy marking the swept channel into Lagos, just as dawn was breaking, the Master was most impressed with our navigation. This was, in fact, more by good luck than judgement because the easterly 'set' all along the coast was notoriously unpredictable, running as it did from perhaps two to five knots or more, as it please. (It was not unknown, if we were approaching the featureless coast from seaward, to call "Which way Takoradi?" to the offshore fishermen and for them to give us a cheery - and – reliable reply!
So - we made fast alongside at Lagos and I hurried to NOIC's office to report "263 back with the survivors", to which came the disconcerting reply "What surv1vors?"! I had to recount the whole story: only then were arrangements quickly made to do all that was necessary to deal with them. As for us - we were ordered to return forthwith to the location and search for any of the missing three who might have survived.
Although we had made repeated signals that night to report the sinking and our subsequent actions, no W/T acknowledgment had been discernable through the intense electrical interference which was (particularly bad at the time. As I learned from the uncomprehending reply at NOIC s office, the interference had nullified our efforts to get through.
Back in daylight, we readily found where the "NEW TORONTO? had gone down. It was marked by the bloated carcasses of the 150 or so cattle which had been deck cargo aboard. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, there was no trace of the three missing crew. We reported this - no W/T interference by now - and were ordered to return to Takoradri. Our dismay at having lost our whole convoy by enemy action was somewhat eased by learning when we got back that a night or two previously, some three ships, I think it was, had been sunk out of a convoy of six or seven on its way to Takoradr from Freetown, under what passed for heavy protection out there - a corvette, a couple of trawlers and an ML or two. It seemed that the U-boat had proceeded further westwards along the coast after this, and had, fortuitously, found itself approaching the eastbound "NEW TORONTO" coming eastwards.
Several weeks later, a cutting from the Manchester Evening News reached us. It turned out that the "NEW Toronto’s" radio operator had been a journalist with that paper and had written a graphic account of the sinking and the rescue. The tone was quite heartening though the description “the officers, three fresh faced boys .... " took a bit of swallowing! (Then, anyway, if not now).
Not so very long after that, I was relieved – at last - and eventually got home in April 1943. My joy at getting away was tinged with at least some regret at leaving 263, which had been my home since I had stood by her for the last stages of completion at Appledore in early summer 1941, I was even further dismayed when, much later, I heard that poor old 263 had been destroyed by fire in Freetown; and; much more seriously, that our excellent Motor Mechanic, who had come out in 1942, had perished in the fire. A Yorkshire man of few words, he had been a garage mechanic in some remote Pennine village. He maintained our engines superbly. He was someone whom the expression " the salt of the earth" fitted like a glove. (I hope someone else will come up with an account of this sad episode, of which I have no details at all)
Peter Rendle, no. 2566.
As a ‘Postscript’ to this tale: Peter was mistaken in thinking that ML 263 had been consumed by fire. She survived the War to be put on the Disposal List and ‘sold off’ in December 1945.
However, on Saturday 1st July 1944, ML 265 - also from the same Flotilla - was destroyed by fire with two fatal casualties, both senior Engine Room Rates - a CPO and a POMM.
It would be most unusual for such senior rates to be allocated to one ML and it is surmised that Peter’s “excellent Motor Mechanic” was aboard ML265 when the conflagration took hold.
However, on Saturday 1st July 1944, ML 265 - also from the same Flotilla - was destroyed by fire with two fatal casualties, both senior Engine Room Rates - a CPO and a POMM.
It would be most unusual for such senior rates to be allocated to one ML and it is surmised that Peter’s “excellent Motor Mechanic” was aboard ML265 when the conflagration took hold.
ML 338