173 Pedestal Lane Manurewa, Auckland

To create a brief mind picture of what these men faced nearly 72 years ago I would like to quote a passage from the recent published book ‘Operation Pedestal’ by Brian James Crabb. His father served in the cruiser HMS Kenya, one of the surviving naval escorts that had part of its bow blown off.

‘Operation Pedestal’ Being an excerpt from the recent book of that name by Brian Crabb, - Chpt. IX, page 107, para 3 - ‘Dorset & Ohio’ - 

‘This time the Stukas singled out OHIO for special attention, which was near missed several times. One Ju87, flown by Sgt. Magg. Oscar Raimondo, which had already dropped its bomb load, was shot down by OHIO’s gunners and crashed alongside the tanker, bounced off a wave and landed on the poop deck. A wing hit the after part of the bridge, while other large pieces were flung all over the ship. Chief Officer Douglas Grey excitedly telephoned Captain Mason to tell him what had happened. Mason replied rather curtly, saying, ‘Oh, that’s nothing. We’ve had a Ju88 on the foredeck for nearly half an hour.’ Leading Seaman Alexander Pilling, who was in command of the Royal Naval gunners, was apparently given credit for shooting the aircraft down, while an eyewitness recorded:

… another destroyer, lying ahead on the port side of the screen, threw all its armament into liquidating the next Stuka: as did OHIO. Stubbornly the plane flew on, laced and interlaced with crossing threads of tracer; a few hundred feet above OHIO, a sudden burst of flame trailed into a streamer of smoke. Would he be able to pull out, or would he spiral into the sea? Strangely enough, the pilot did neither. He did not deviate at all from his target. A few seconds more and the plane had crashed into the lower part of the tanker’s bridge, on the port side. The streamer of smoke and flames grew into a sheet of fire, into which that end of the bridge temporarily disappeared. As if that were not enough, another near miss scraped the port side aft, causing a temporary list… which ends the quote.

Disregarding the astounding performance and staggering losses of the Royal Navy escorts – a story in its own right – under almost continuous attack from under, on and above the waves; of the 14 merchant ships they fought so hard to defend in convoy, only 5 made it into Valletta’s Grand Harbour. Of those, just ONE, the ‘Port Chalmers’ – despite some nasty near misses – miraculously reached harbour virtually undamaged. In recognition of their heroic achievement Captain Pinkney received the DSO, nine crew were awarded the DSM and three mentioned in despatches.

Back to Ray Peguero, now deceased, he wrote a letter, from Malta I believe,  describing the experience to his father. The letter is dated October 1942 and has been retyped for this poppy place. In parts the letter was very difficult to decipher but every effort has been made to correctly reprint the story here.

Ray Peguero's Account

Farewell to England late on Sunday afternoon, 25^th July, 1942.

After searching all around Birkenhead in the blackout and a slow miserable rain to add to my discomfort, I reached aboard about 1 a.m.  From the first moment I saw the nature of the cargo I realised where we were going and felt far from happy at the prospect.

Breakfast time confirmed my worst fears, extra guns being put on deck making her look more like an A.A. ship.  On Saturday noon we moved out into the Mersey behind the Waimarama to anchor off Pier Head.  The Dorset was already anchored there.  We took on more oils and cargo making the ship deeper than she had ever been before, 20” below her usual peace time draught.  Four o’clock saw us leading the line of three ships bound for the Clyde, where the rest of the convoy was to form. 

Sunday all the merchant ships, 14 in all commenced to move out following several destroyers.  It was not until the following day that we had any idea of the strength of our escort.  In the centre of the convoy, that is , between us and the Almeria Lykes was the Nelson, followed by the Rodney, and later the Furious joined us with Spitfires for Malta to provide fighter protection from the Island.  Three cruisers were across our bows following a line of destroyers half way around the horizon.  Other destroyers were dotted in various positions among the merchant ships. Three aircraft carriers were astern to enable them to manoeuvre easily when aircraft were taking off and landing.  Each had a light cruiser in attendance.

On the Saturday afternoon previous to going into the Mediterranean the Argus (a Fleet Air Arm Training ship) joined us for a mock battle, with her planes acting as the enemy.  This rehearsal was more for the Fleet Air Arm to try out their interception plans.  All Naval ships are fitted out with radio location, the bigger the ship – the greater the radius the set used.  As far as I can make out a plane ship’s position can be picked up actually within a radius of 50 miles from the Furious for all attacks we had sufficient warning to get to our action stations.  Up to this stage there had been plenty of Anti-Submarine activity.  I don’t know if it was genuine or just precautions.  We never got to know the result of these actions.  With the force of Destroyers we had with us in the Atlantic, a sub had very little chance.

 In the Meddie (Mediterranean) is a very different tale. There is some difference in the currents in this part of the world that interferes with the Anti-Submarine instruments, the result is for both sides, the happiest hunting ground in the World for this type of warfare.

Sunday midnight 9/10, just a week after leaving the Clyde, we passed Gib (Gibraltar) in one of the blackest nights it is possible to have in the perfect weather we experienced all the way.  The Straits were all lit up on the Spanish Coast.  Monday morning found us with the full Naval Escort for the first time.  Each ship had taken turns at slipping into Gib to bunker, the previous day – it was here the Meddie units joined us.

From this time on we were ready for anything with our life jackets on and carrying our tin hats all the time.  Those of us who had done this trip before were never expecting anything to happen until the Wednesday morning, and then it would be all Aircraft.  Such was our surprise and deep regret when on Tuesday afternoon, at 1.15 the Eagle was sunk within seven minutes of being torpedoed by a U boat.  All her planes were lost, it was a pitiful sight to see her planes just slip off the deck into the drink.  The Eagle was built as a battleship to be converted to an Air Craft Carrier and was completed after the war (WW1).

When all the excitement had subsided the Furious dropped back and headed into the wind for the Spitfires to take off on their way to Malta.  There were 40 of them.  After they had all gone, the Furious, with a small escort of Destroyers made it back to Gibraltar, the Germans making a false claim of sinking her on the way.  As the day drew to a close it looked as though the quietness of the few previous hours was to continue overnight.  I already had gone to bed for a few hours’ sleep before going on watch at Midnight.  I must have just gone to sleep when the silence was shattered by heavy gunfire.  By the time I was on deck, the barrage was of deafening intensity.  Every ship of the convoy seemed to open up on the target which until then, we couldn’t see.  The air seemed full of tracer bullets, all making in the same general direction and we knew from a very dull red glow that seemed to be travelling leisurely up into the sky, more high explosives were following.  All the fireworks displays I have ever seen, rolled into one, were nothing when compared to this and certainly not as exciting – the seriousness of the moment was entirely forgotten.  In a matter of seconds, several Junkers 88 could be seen against the rapidly darkening sky.  When a hit was scored and one of the planes burst into flames as it dived seawards, a home team scoring a winning goal couldn’t have had a greater effect on us all.  We never saw any bombs dropped, they were too far off.  Within a matter of minutes, silence again prevailed, broken only by a shower of shrapnel hitting the water, even that quickly died out and looking around the convoy you would think nothing has happened the way the ships seemed to glide along quite unperturbed.  We saw two planes crash and there was no damage to the convoy.  It has often been said that Malta can put up the biggest barrage in the world for its area.  I fortunately have not seen it, but everyone seems to agree (including Naval Men) that the barrage put up at this time would have exceeded Malta’s best effort.  It was simply a marvellous sight.

Wednesday started quietly for us, though four fighters seemed to have a very busy time of it, coming and going continuously.  At 8.30 we had our first sight of the enemy planes for the day, they were driven off easily by our A.A. (Anti-aircraft) guns.  Shortly after that again, a much more determined attack developed.  Several Junkers 88 dived out of the sun, the one I was watching made for the only Tanker in the Convoy – Ohio.  I saw 4 bombs drop out of the plane, holding my breath for fear they were going to find their mark.  As luck was still with us they overshot the mark by a matter of feet.  Another ship had a near miss and stopped, as very often happens.  She was soon started up again and within a few minutes, took her place in the convoy again.  These attacks continued throughout the day after the same style.  About mid-afternoon, the first Merchant ship to be hit, Deucalion, dropped behind – a stick of bombs fell across the bridge.  We heard later that she proceeded at reduced speed along the Tunisian coast until the following day, when she was again attacked by aircraft and sunk.  All the crew were picked up by the escorting destroyer.

At sunset we were just North of Bizerte, the land a blur across the horizon.  The main battle fleet were turning around and leaving us with 4 cruisers and about 12 destroyers, when 3 loud explosions occurred.  I happened to be watching the Cairo at the time and saw a huge black column of smoke and water shoot up, high about her stern - she stopped and was later sunk.  On looking around we saw the Ohio had been hit and a huge screen of black smoke issuing forth, and the Nigeria (Admiral Burrough) with a list to port, also stopped. (She reached back to Gibraltar O.K.). It was the work of a submarine.  It was a matter of seconds after this when we were attacked by what Commander Kimmings R.N. so appropriately terms the First Eleven.  Eight dive bombers dived on the Indomitable, all getting direct hits. After what seemed ages of watching black smoke, we were rewarded by seeing the Carrier steaming slowly out of it, but still burning forward and aft.  She got back to Gib O.K. 

It was during all this that the Port Chalmers shot down the first plane, but not before it had dropped its load at us, getting a very near miss.  At the same time, the Empire Hope, (sister ship to the Kairanga and Waimarama) was set ablaze after taking all the crew off safely.  Next a Destroyer was set ablaze from stem to stern.  By this time the convoy seemed to have scattered.  Through some misunderstanding on the Bridge, our ship was heading back to Gib on her own until a destroyer came and gave us fresh orders, to try to keep up with the convoy.  At daybreak, we decided to go through the minefield and trust in luck.  It was probably this that saved us that night. We knew E boats were ahead and from time to time heard ships send signals they had been hit by torpedoes.  The destroyer that was with us kept immediately astern so unless we were mined, she was quite safe, (as they told us upon their arrival in Malta).  The whole of that night all the ships company were ordered to stay up all night.  I came off watch at 4.00 a.m. and with a few others, sat in my room talking, and at 5.30 I fell asleep, everything being so quiet.  The next thing I remembered was gunfire going on deck, the first thing to meet my eye was a huge column of black smoke - all that remained of the Waimarama.  She had been hit by several bombs igniting aviation fuel stored on the deck and blew up immediately.  The Melbourne Star was very near at the time and was burned all along one side, sprayed with burning petrol, also a lot of it fell on deck as well.  A number of the crew jumped overboard thinking she was ablaze and out of 35, 14 were lost. Of Waimarama’s crew only 18 were saved out of 110.

On looking around at this time we were very surprised to see the Ohio still with us, we thought she would never come on after the previous evening.  The Melbourne Star and Rochester Castle, with the Dorset coming up on our port side, made us the 5 surviving ships of that night.  There was no breakfast that morning, only a cup of tea and some toast, no one felt like eating.  By this time the attacks were continuous and by some marvellous luck the 5 of us kept together until 10.30, then fate turned against us.  A particularly heavy attack swept over us concentrating on the Dorset, Ohio and ourselves, eight bombs whistled down within a few yards of our stern, 4 on each side.  The same number dropped along the Dorset’s starboard side causing her for a minute to be lost sight of behind a huge sheet of water.  She was not hit but her engines were stopped by the underwater explosion being so close, she was started again.  The Ohio also stopped.  Three of us carried on, with 2 cruisers in attendance, Kenya and Phoebe, and several destroyers including the Ashanti, flying the Vice Admiral’s Flag (Burroughs).

Air attacks still carried on even though less violent.  At 11.30 when I was in the mess room for a cup of tea during a temporary lull, I looked out of one of the ports and saw a sight I’m not likely to forget when many other incidents have faded from my memory. 

Five torpedo carrying planes making directly for this ship on the beam.  They were still out of effective range of our light A.A. guns.  By the time I was on deck, the ship’s bow was turned away from them and all the guns blazing away.  One of the planes dived into the drink, another was hit and looked too uncertain of herself to be of any more menace to us, the other three achieved part of their object, dropping their torpedoes for us to collect.  I never clearly understood what course these “Tin Fish” took.  They were a type that after their run, if they missed their target, they kept going in ever widening circles in hopes of picking up something sooner or later. I know that after the danger had passed we were swinging to starboard and then put her hard over to port.  I was at the ship’s side at the time and could see what to me, might have been a torpedo travelling towards us in an arc.  The ship swung in another arc, making up what resembles two geared wheels, one driving the other.  It missed with only inches to spare right next to the engine room.  Later the paravane was observed to be out of control, wobbling about in an uncertain manner.  It was pulled up, and there by the Grace of God, was the torpedo tangled up with the paravane.  There is a small triangle in this gear, the diameter of which enabled the torpedo to pass through without any clearance, the tail being larger than the body prevented it from passing through, so it just hung there to everyone’s amazement.  The Navy kept its distance, (not that I blame them) and told us to drop it - we did with the quickest of despatch.  The proceedings of removing the menace made it necessary to go full astern until the wire rope holding the piece of Nazi Germany suspended in mid-air was released, then in going ahead again, we passed over the spot as the doings reached the seabed directly underneath us, that gave us another thrill.  It sounded like the nearest of our near misses.  It was about this time that everyone began to feel the strain and not caring what happened.  To make matters worse, we rarely saw our Spitfires and Malta still seemed a long way off.  The Engineers’ trouble was lack of something to do.  We had a four hour watch down below with 8 hours off and we also did a two hour watch per day, each on one of the guns, so we still had many hours to just watch proceedings.  When midday came I was very thankful for my hours to start. 

The greatest blessing of our watch was a Manchester lad who for wit, could rival any Cockney.  Such statements as “fishing torpedoes out of the bilges”, and, “wouldn’t we look silly flying out the funnel” at the most appropriate times, kept a certain gaiety about relieving the tension we were in the mood for feeling.  The last raid came over just after 1 o’clock, a very weak attempt and at 2 o’clock the naval escort was relieved by the Minesweepers and Motor Launches from Malta.  Each one of the retiring escort passed in line of the three remaining Merchant ships and continued on their way amidst cheers, homeward, unhampered by our presence.

Shortly after this, land was sighted bringing back to me the memory of 10 months ago when I said “If I never see the place again, it will be too soon”.  How wrong I was! Never was land a more welcome sight.

At 6 o’clock, August 12^th, the Rochester Castle with a Torpedo in No 3 hold and a list to port, entered the harbour amidst cheering crowds and the local band playing “A Life on the Ocean Wave”.  Following was the Melbourne Star with evidence of passing through fire and pieces of another ship all over her deck, and last but by no means least, the only ship without a scratch, ourselves, Port Chalmers.  It could plainly be seen that the rousing welcome of the people was no idle boast, their fate depended on our arrival.  Isolated as they were from the Allies and the enemy who they have such a contempt for, completely surrounded them.  Their “Target Day” as they called it, was 33 days hence, or in other words, on the 15^th September they had decided to pull down the flag and let the enemy take over.  Their food would have been finished that day.  The Royal Navy made a desperate bid against all odds and by the help of God, coupled with the sheer determination that the Senior Service is renowned for and the assistance of the Royal Air Force, the duration of the siege was extended till the middle of November.

The following afternoon witnessed another heroic sight.  The Brisbane Star entering the harbour with her bow shot away, followed by one of the most gallant efforts of the Merchant Navy, the Ohio. Between two destroyers, her propeller and rudder missing, the boiler blown out of the engine room and a torpedo right in her middle, but still over 3 parts full of much needed Oil fuel.  Thus made a total of 5 ships out of 14 - and the loss of 1200 lives.

So, brought to a close what will prove the last Malta Convoy Battle.  It was the biggest effort the Navy ever put up in aid of Malta, the previous one I was in 12 months earlier was child’s play compared with this.

It was not until 13^th November, 3 months later, that our ship was recognised (at the cost of the Commodore’s reputation) by the King.  The Captain was awarded the D.S.O., Chief Engineer and 2^nd Mate – D.S.Cs, and 6 D.S.M.

After the North African campaign opened, we were told it was only possible by our successful effort in getting through.  It is from Malta both by Air and Submarine that Rommel’s supplies to Egypt were so seriously hampered so to prevent him putting up any serious resistance.

It may be recalled that in March of that year, General Dobbie, C in C for Malta, returned to England in a hurry and Lord Gort, V.C. was installed before the public knew what had happened.  The truth of the matter was, a Convoy had arrived after great difficulty and lay in the harbour for 4 days, during which time there was great rejoicing ably encouraged by the BBC, as well they can, at the timely arrival of much needed supplies.  At the end of the 4^th day before the discharging had commenced, the Hun started to put a stop to it all – systematically bombing every ship, launch, barge or anything that floated as well as all the store houses dotted around the harbour.  His losses were heavy, but not half as heavy as the island of Malta suffered.  Huge quantities of food and reserves were destroyed.  Enemy fighter planes were able to patrol up and down the harbour.  Our guns, reputed to have the greatest concentrated fire in the world were silent, only firing at bombers, before they dropped their load.

Lord Gort is one of those men whom publicity has by-passed.  He had been given one of the most important military commands on the Allied side at the time, as later will prove.  Because of fear of giving information to the enemy, his outstanding work had to be kept quiet.  The morning after we arrived, he was expected to pay a call on the ship.  Myself and other Engineers were on deck to witness the arrival and it was not until he walked along the deck beneath us that we recognised that the high ranking C in C himself had come on a bicycle, dodging among the soldiers working cargo, his camouflage excellent.  We were soon to learn that except on very special occasions he always travelled about the island on his bike, springing up in the most unexpected places.  He often could be seen stopping to talk to the Maltese – without a doubt he was very popular.

Because of the risk of sending us out, we have had to remain here until the Allies regained control of the Mediterranean.  On the 13^th Nov, 4 Merchant ships came in, heavily escorted by the Royal Navy.  For some obscure reason we remained and waited for the next Convoy, hoping we will then go out.  I can now say I have been in the Siege of Malta and seen it lifted.  I certainly feel as though I have been through it – the empty feeling I have inside.  Our rations have been 1 oz of bread, 3 slices of bully and pumpkin each per day, 5 ozs of jam, 1 oz of sugar, and 2 ½ ozs margarine per week and enough tea.  It is little wonder we are all as discontented as we are.  The Black Market is having a wonderful time – eggs a guinea a dozen is a fair example of the prices of “Big Eats” as we call them.