Talk:HMS Umpire (N82)

Moved from article

The following, it needs formatting, and probably citing properly, but my main concern is that it is overwhelming for the article to have such a detailed description of the sinking. I'll have a go at seeing if information here can be integrated with what we already have. Benea (talk) 02:21, 6 September 2008 (UTC)

The sinking of HMS Umpire

Her Captain, Mervyn Wingfield took her out of the River Medway, a brand spanking new submarine, on the 18th July,1941. After waiting overnight at Sheerness for a convoy of merchant ships leaving the Thames the next day. The convoy congregated off Southend under an escort of motor launches and Admiralty trawlers. Umpire took up station astern of the convoy, and by the time the corner at Shoeburyness had been turned, the convoy, heading for the Clyde, was more or less formed up.

All day long the convoy proceeded up the east coast, passing Burnham, Clacton, Walton-on-the-Naze, Harwich, Felixstowe, Orfordness, and when they were somewhere off of Aldeburgh a German bomber came in low and began attacking the leading ships of the convoy. Umpire's officer of the watch, Edward Young, in accordance with the convoy instructions, gave the order to dive.

This was Umpire's first ever dive, and it was a tribute to the Captain, her number one, Peter Bannister, the Chatham men who had built her, and her crew that within two minutes she had caught a trim. Umpire did not stay down long because the convoy was drawing ahead and the Heinkel bomber had pushed off somewhere else. 5 minutes down and Umpire re-surfaced and pressed on to regain her station astern of the convoy, which had sustained no damage from the attack.

The crew were all very pleased with themselves and of their boat. Then, around nightfall, one of the diesels developed trouble and had to be stopped. At first, this did not affect their speed as they were able to augment it with the electric motors, but as the evening wore on the engineers were unsuccessful in being able to get the defective engine restarted. The other engine was insufficient in producing sufficient power, and they were forced to reduce speed. The Captain flashed a signal to the Commodore of the convoy, reporting the situation. A motor launch was detailed to drop back and act as an escort to Umpire, and they were ordered to catch up with the convoy as soon as possible.

The Captain of Umpire knew from the latest W/T situation report that some twenty miles to the north of them, a southbound convoy was heading down the same buoyed channel. The two convoys were due to meet some time around midnight.

When Tony Godden, the officer of the watch, reported that this convoy was in sight, Wingfield went to the bridge. He was surprised to find that instead of being on the port bow, the convoy was right ahead, with part of it extending onto the Starboard bow. It was a calm night, very dark, but with reasonably good visibility. The escorting ML had lost touch with Umpire, which was quite alone and virtually invisible.

Wingfield altered course to port and the first six ships of the convoy passed safely down the starboard side, a couple of hundred yards distant. Suddenly, a dark shape appeared right ahead. Wingfield saw that it was a trawler, presumably part of the escort, and that they were directly in its path. The trawler was fine on Umpire's starboard bow and was going to pass dangerously close. It was the trawler's right of way and Umpire's duty to keep clear. Normally she should have turned to Starboard, but only a couple of hundred yards in that direction was an endless line of south bound merchant ships. Wingfield ordered 'Hard a Port'. Even as Umpire began to turn though the trawler seemed to sight Umpire and began to turn to Starboard. This made the collision inevitable. Wingfield yelled his last order down the voice pipe, "Full astern together!" but before the order could be carried out the bows of the trawler struck Umpire 20 - 30 feet abaft the bow. The submarine lurched to port, and stayed locked together with the trawler. During those few seconds Wingfield clutched the trawler's side as it swung in towards him, shouting furiously, "You bloody bastard, you've sunk a British submarine!". Then the trawler fell away and in less than 30 seconds Umpire plunged under, leaving Wingfield, Godden and two lookouts alone in the water. The four kept together at first, but presently one, then the other lookout dropped from the small circle. Wingfield struggled to keep Tony Godden afloat, who gasped that he was wearing fur lined boots and could not kick them free. Finally he sank from sight. Wingfield was unconscious when he was pulled from the water by the trawler's boat, and his feelings when he came to, apparently the sole survivor, can be imagined.

Down below Peter Bannister had ordered watertight doors shut.Most of the lights went out. Men were running from the next compartment, Peter was shouting, "Shut that door!" and Edward Young had his hand on it, letting the men run through, disobeying the order. Somehow the further door leading to the damaged compartment had shut, whether due to the collision or by some selfless act. "Shut that bloody door" repeated Peter in a fury, but by now all the men were through, and although the door had to be pulled upwards due to the angle of the boat, it was clipped tightly shut.

The boat was lying on the bottom, listing to starboard and down at the bow by 10 degrees. Water was pouring in everywhere. Peter was struggling with the outboard battery ventilation valve overhead, but that valve was already shut. Surprisingly, no water was coming in through the upper hatch of the conning tower. It had fallen shut at the moment of the collision.

Peter Bannister was calling for more light, and one or two of the men searched for emergency torches. Young remembered he had a torch in his drawer in the wardroom and splashed through the knee high water to fetch it. He said later, "Streams of ice green water were cascading from somewhere overhead, drenching the beautiful new curtains and bunks in a universal deluge. If I had brought an intelligence to bear on the source of this waterfall I should have hit on something that ought to have been obvious to all of us. But not until the whole thing was over did I realise that all of this water must have been coming from the ventilation shaft, now open to sea pressure through the damaged torpedo stowage compartment. By reaching up my hand over the Captain's bunk I could have shut the valve on the bulkhead quite easily, and the flow of water would have stopped."

Splashing his way back to the control room, Young shone his torch on the depth gauges and found that they were both reading a little over 60 feet. He asked Peter if it was possible to raise the sub with compressed air. It seemed unlikely since they had been at full buoyancy at the time of the collision, and must now be full up to the aft end of the torpedo stowage compartment, but nevertheless they gave it a try, blowing all 5 buoyancy tanks empty. The depth gauges didn't even flicker.

The sea continued to pour in. One seaman tried to open the door that Young had shut earlier, saying, "My pal's in there!" Young told him that it would be no good, and that the boat was full up past that door.

Young, for some reason, decided to search for more torches, but could find only one that was still working. Returning to the control room he was a bit surprised to find it empty. The door to the engine room was shut. He wondered if he had been too long and everyone else had left the boat. He listened, but all he could hear was the merciless sound of water pouring in. As he moved about he heard a voice that said, "Christ, who's that?" and looking up he found that he was standing under the conning tower lower hatch. In it was Peter, an able seaman and one of the E.R.A's. Squeezing in with them, Bannister told Young that the others were going to flood the engine room and use that hatch to escape from.

"Shut the lower lid", ordered Bannister,"and let's just think this out."

The conning tower was 15 feet higher than the rest of the boat, so they had only 45 feet to ascend. Peter tried to open the hatch, but of course water pressure kept it closed.It occurred to Young that whilst they had been talking the water would have continued to flood the boat below, raising the air pressure. Cracking the lower hatch they could hear a loud hiss as the compressed air forced its way into the conning tower. They continued to do this until they felt they could smell chlorine, meaning that the batteries were flooding. This time, when Peter tried, the upper hatch lifted slightly. "Right, stand by," said Peter, "Here we go for 14 days survivor's leave. We're off!" and he pushed the upper hatch open.

Swimming to the surface, Young found both the A.B and Peter Bannister there in good heart. There was no sign of the ERA. There were several ships lying stopped in the vicinity so they began to swim towards them. Young reached an ML lying close by and was dragged aboard.

It was not until the ML landed the survivors that Young found out that Peter Bannister was missing. Only the AB had been picked up, in fact. The AB said that the two of them had swam together and he thought Peter had been right behind him when he was picked up.

As Young closed the lower lid, two men, Petty Office Treble and Leading Telegraphist Funnell were just below him and heard the hatch close. Treble realised that the bulkhead ventilation valve was open, but in the darkness and confusion he couldn't find it. They then found two able seamen halfway up the conning tower ladder, trying to push it open. Realising that there was no escape through that way, one of them remarked, in a remarkably calm manner, “In that case we've batted.�?

The two senior ratings then more or less pushed the ratings into the engine room, where they found Chief ERA Killan calmly organising the survivors for an escape through the engine room hatch. A quick count showed that there were seventeen of them, sixteen naval ratings, and one civilian from Chatham dockyard. He had come with them to keep an eye on some experimental bearings in the defective diesel engine. Wirh Killan were Stoker Petty Officer Shorrocks and the submarines coxswain, Petty Officer Lee. These two were already engaged in handing out DSEA sets from the lockers in the engine room. Others were trying to shut the bulkhead door separating the engine room from the control room. With that door shut the men were more comfortable, closed off as they were from the sounds of rushing water and smell of chlorine.

The engine room was warm thanks to the heat emenating from the starboard diesel engine. They found though that there were only 14 DSEA sets and, therefore, three men would have to go up without equipment. Leading Seaman Band volunteered to re-enter the control room to recover the sets kept in there, but Killan reminded him that if the water rose rapidly in that compartment then they would have to seal the hatch and he would be trapped in the control room. Band took the risk and re-entered the control room, but after a few minutes came back to say that the control room was a shambles and he couldn't find any of the other sets.

With the dividing door once again sealed, the men began the serious business of escaping. Killan, as the Senior Chief Petty Officer, took charge. He detailed Treble to stand by the escape hatch, to check each mans escape apparatus, and to ensure each man knew the drill before he left the submarine. The three men without sets sought out their particular pals and agreed to go out holding the legs of their chums. They were, of course, to be the first men out. Shorrocks was trying to train the civilian in the use of DSEA apparatus. When everything was set, Killan opened the flood valves. There was no particular discomfort as the pressure increased. The men had all climbed on top of the engines to keep out of the water and to keep warm. Some even started a sing-song and there were ribald comments and back-chat. Eventually, the water stopped rising. Killan called for a volunteer to climb up the twill trunking and open the hatch. Once again, it was Band who stepped forward. After being checked over by Treble he ducked his head and disappeared up the trunk, to reappear a few moments later to report that the hatch was now open.

At strictly controlled five minute intervals the men moved up to the hatch, were briefed and checked by Treble, and then ducked under the water and disappeared. Many of the men had trouble with the ladder because it had fallen askew due to the angle of the boat which was listing about 30 degrees to starboard. They re-appeared in the engine room, coughing and spluttering, to be greated by ribald comments from their shipmates, but on their second attempt all got away.

When the escapes were well under way, Killan, remembering how some men had been trapped below the hatch in Thetis, put on his DSEA and went into the trunk to ensure it was still clear. When he came back, smothered in oil, Treble suggested that as he was now exhausted he might as well leave the boat. Killan gratefully agreed. His duty had been well and truly discharged.

At last, there were only four men still in the engine room; Treble, Shorrocks, Funnell, and a Leading Stoker Paige. They talked about waiting until morning before escaping, possibly the dangerous lassitude brought on by Carbon Dioxide was beginning to creep over them. It seemed to them that their duty of getting the junior ratings out of the boat had been carried out. Having done this, they as experienced submariners, were perfectly prepared to wait a few more hours. Then one of their two torches flickered and went out, reminding them that perhaps time wasn‘t actually on their side after all. Treble told them rather sharply to, “Cut the cackle and get on and get out.�?Funnell went first, followed by Shorrocks and then Paige.

Treble found himself alone in the compartment. He later said,

“ There I was, sitting on the port engine in the darkness, everything deathly silent. All the time we had been in the engine room I had heard no sounds of ships overhead, so we had no idea what to expect when we reached the surface. To keep up my spirits I switched on the torch, and shone it around the deserted engine room, the greasy water reflected the light back at me. To assure myself that it was not some horrible dream I called out, “Is anyone here?�? The sound of my voice was more nerve racking than the silence; the oil topped water seemed to challenge me; and suddenly I was chewing my fingernails. I pulled myself together and said aloud, “The best thing you can do is to get out of here as soon as possible before you lose your reason.�? This time the sound of my voice was reassuring and I got my set ready, wondering all the time if I would remember all the things I had told the others. I took a final look around, took a grip on my mouthpiece and was under the water into the twill trunk. I was shooting through the water, it was dark, but little bubbles passed me. Then suddenly I was on the surface and looking at the dark sky. I saw a light and set off swimming towards it. I had no idea of time, but the light got nearer, and I made it out as a small searchlight sweeping the water. Several times it swept over me, and I even considered there was a chance it might be a jerry; the next second I heard an English voice and then I was looking up at the kindest faces I had ever seen. They yanked me out and onto their deck, where I was greeted by Ronnie Shorrocks and the others plus an unlimited supply of rum.�?

The final casualty roll was two officers and 20 men. From the engine room escape party, only the three men without DSEA and the civilian were not recovered.

Sources of information:

One of our submarines by Edward Young

Subsunk by Capt. W. O. Shelford RN (Retd)

Edward Young, one of the survivors from Umpire, later went on to command HMS Storm. — Preceding unsigned comment added by 80.7.147.13 (talk) 17:25, 3 November 2013 (UTC)