I
still can’t believe I survived the Armidale sinking! After
almost 56 years, it’s still all a dream! These unbelievable stories
from HMAS Armidale in which I was terribly involved seem
like chapters from a fairy storybook. But it did happen.
Fate,
no doubt, dealt me a good hand when Lieutenant. Palmer called my name
to join the whaler crew. I can recall no good reason why he selected
me. He scarcely knew me. As I read Frank Walker’s book HMAS Armidale:
the ship that had to die, I read Lieutenant. Palmer’s account of how
he chose me to row rather than that he regarded me, as "one who
was showing signs of considerable nervous strain and whom he thought
might be a danger if left on the raft"! Whichever, I’m still here.
It
is now a well-known fact that Armidale sank at 3.15pm on 1st
December 1942 after two torpedoes struck her in the port side. A near
miss from a bomb didn’t help much either.
My
action station was loader on the starboard Oerlikon gun. I had watched
our gunner, Lou Lyndon, fire at the Zeros as they flew in low to machine-gun
the ship. He seemed to be spot on, the tracers seemed to penetrate
the planes’ windscreens and sides as they flashed over us, but the
Japs didn’t hesitate. They just kept coming.
I
was on the deck, reloading a magazine, when the first torpedo struck.
The ship instantly began to heel over to port and I heard Captain
Richards’ order to abandon ship.
Everyone
around me seemed quite calm as though it were an everyday occurrence,
with my life jacket (or "blimp") blown up; I walked down the slanting
starboard side and jumped into the water. It was a terrible experience.
I could see bobbing heads and flailing arms ahead, so set out to join
them. I wasn’t far from the sinking ship when the second torpedo hit
about port midships.
I
felt little burning feelings in my legs and later I found tiny pieces
of shrapnel sticking in to my skin! I swam on and joined a few blokes,
pausing long enough to look back and see Armidale in her last
death throes. She was at the perpendicular, with the quarterdeck still
above water and the two propellers turning lazily. I swam on and took
another look back. All I saw was a boiling mass where Armidale
had been.
The
Japanese planes continued strafing us as we swam and floundered about
in the water. It was at this stage that I learned to hate the Japanese
– firing on defenceless people at that stage struggling for survival.
My attitude hasn’t altered much. Slanty eyes with buck teeth filled
with gold! Sneering, smiling, obnoxious little Bastards. After Pearl
harbour and the Changi POW Camp, I felt these heathen bastards would
do almost anything to perpetrate an atrocity.
For
a bloke who had been invited to help make up a water polo team but
who declined because of poor swimming ability, I was doing well. I
think I passed some water polo players as I put distance between me
and where Armidale had been! I really couldn’t tell who they were
because they were covered in crude oil, black and putrid. So was I!
The
Japanese aircraft continued to strafe us as we swam wide of where
Armidale had been. We had sense enough not to congregate but
scattered about to give less of a target to these heathen bastards.
I can’t remember if it was only the Zeros that did the strafing or
whether they were joined by their Bomber mates. Whatever, it was pretty
horrific and cowardly, but as I mentioned before, what else should
we expect? The A Bomb!! That should have been dropped much earlier.
The Jap law – the only one they knew about – strike first and talk
later.
Before
our ill-fated voyage, we were tied up alongside a wharf. Leading Seaman
"Bumble" Bool suggested that we collect any dunnage lying about the
wharf as we returned from shore leave. We would bring this timber
aboard and lash it with cordage to the guard rails. ""Bumble"
thought this could be handy in an emergency. I
recall bringing quite a few super feet aboard and helping to lash
it to the guard rail.
Fortunately,
during the attack, some persons were near enough to be able to slash
the timber free. So, The timber plus the cordage floated freely once
Armidale had disappeared. This is for the benefit of those
who have read Frank Walker’s book and wondered why so much flotsam
was available. Bumble’s emergency had arrived! And that timber was
to play a big part in our survival.
Talk
about otters being busy! Flotsam was scattered over a wide area and
we set to work to gather it and bring it to a central area, piece
by piece. It was hard work but at this stage, except for those who
were wounded, we were pretty fit. While some swam and collected, others
stayed and built a raft. There was never enough cord or rope, so what
we had was unravelled and tied together. There were always repairs
to be done to the raft. Nevertheless, there were about 80 who could
get some rest on it.
The
sun was hellish by day but after sundown and during the night the
air was freezing. No wonder we found a few missing at the sunrise
roll call. There was no means of keeping warm except exercise. No
point in trying to wrap an extra bit of water round our ears to keep
warm! Sunshine began to thaw us but soon the heat was too much. As
the day progressed, we were hit with pangs of hunger but the lack
of something to drink was worse. We were aching all over, having spent
most of the first night treading water and repairing the raft. Oh
for somewhere to lie down and sleep!
On
the second day, it was decided that Captain Richards should take the
motorboat with some of the wounded and some fit rowers and head towards
our Australian reconnaissance area. So a total of 22 left us, with
our blessing, and steered towards Darwin.
We
had found the whaler but it was submerged and floating just below
the water line. I guess it was kept afloat by buoyancy tanks. Overnight,
we had taken turns with our legs suspended in the whaler, using our
life jackets to keep us afloat. The scenery above water was pretty
miserable, only heads mostly covered in oil which gradually dried
up as the sun boiled down. I was one of the unfortunates who had requested
to grow a beard when we learned we were going to be stationed "up
north", so as well as mattered hair. I’d gathered enough oil on my
beard for a day’s steaming! The oil was filthy and stinking and made
it difficult to recognise anybody.
We
organised a shark watch! Those who were unable to help with the raft
because they were wounded would hold their head under water for as
long as possible. If a shark were spotted in the clear water, we would
all splash the water in an attempt to frighten the creature off. This
worked well during the daylight hours but at night we simply had to
take a chance.
Hunger!
Thirst! Still no planes looking for us! The situation looked hopeless.
Another cold and fearful night, followed by yet another hellish day.
Day 3 brought no searching planes and no joy. We came to the conclusion
that the Skipper hadn’t been found yet and we were really down in
the dumps.
