Tanker Man

By Brian Taylor

This is a story about survival on an oil tanker which had been torpedoed in 1942. All the navigating officers had been killed and an engineer, the most senior officer left in a fit condition, had to get the ship carrying twelve thousand tons of aviation fuel to Liverpool. What was left of the crew, were living on a time bomb. It was one which could explode at any time due to the nature of their cargo. They did not know friend from foe. German agents seemed to be everywhere. This is a classic World War 2 story and accurately describes the way of life during that period of our history. There is also a bit of boy meets girl, boy wants to marry girl but has to overcome objections about his work. There is something in this story which should appeal to everybody.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823081696

Brian Taylor

Brian Taylor is a public historian and scholar of the Civil War era who has taught at Georgetown University and the University of Maryland, Baltimore County.

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© 2023 Brian Taylor. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/15/2023

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8170-2 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8171-9 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8169-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     13 September 1942

Chapter 2     New York and Baltimore

Chapter 3     STS Angus

Chapter 4     Ship’s Trials and Commissioning

Chapter 5     Perth Amboy and North Atlantic

Chapter 6     27 October to 9 November

Chapter 7     Under Tow: 9–11 November

Chapter 8     River Mersey: 11–20 November

Chapter 9     Glenn Miller

Chapter 10   Whist, Darts, Pool, and Boredom

Chapter 11   Hale Oil Terminal

Chapter 12   Ship to Power Station

Chapter 13   Where Have You Been?

Chapter 14   Doctor’s Appointment

Chapter 15   Recovery

Chapter 16   Spy Catcher

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1

13 SEPTEMBER 1942

My life changed forever when I received a telegram on 13 September 1942 to join a ship which would be going to America. My employer, the McAdam Oil Company, sent me a telegram requesting me to join the steam turbine ship McIntyre. It read: "You are required to sign on the STS McIntyre on the twentieth of September at Grangemouth in Scotland. Your rank will be extra second engineer. The STS McIntyre will be going to Perth Amboy, in New Jersey, to load a cargo of aviation fuel. The STS McIntyre will be your means of crossing the Atlantic to join another ship, which is being built in America. You will be working your passage because it is the easiest way to get you to your new ship. The company expects you to carry out routine engineering work during the twelve-day voyage."

My first thought was, The company does not want you to forget the name of the ship you are expected to join.

Normally, the ship would be capable of crossing the Atlantic much quicker than twelve days. During these times of war, however, most ships crossing the North Atlantic had to wait until a convoy could be formed. The Royal Navy could more easily defend a group of ships. Some faster ships hoped to outrun a U-boat and travelled on their own, but this was a risky decision, as I later found out.

During the crossing, they would all change direction at irregular intervals to give the German U-boats less time to take aim at them. A loaded oil tanker would make a very loud bang if it were hit by a torpedo. Zigzagging across the Atlantic is very time-consuming, but it is worth doing if it can save one’s life.

My name is John Spencer. I was born on 15 March 1919. I spent my childhood on the Wirral in Cheshire. I went to Wirral Grammar School, and I matriculated in 1935. My parents wanted me to go to university, but I resisted and obtained an apprenticeship with Cammell Laird, the shipbuilders in Birkenhead. I had to study at night school, and I obtained a Higher National Certificate in mechanical engineering before I completed my four-year apprenticeship.

All my life I wanted to go to sea, so I satisfied two passions by joining the McAdam Oil Company in June 1939 as a junior engineer. The second being the fact that I loved engineering. I have owned motorbikes since I was sixteen, and I have always maintained them myself.

McAdam Oil Company operated a small fleet of oil tankers known generally as MOC tankers. All the tankers were given a Scottish name. Usually, it was someone related to Sir Fraser McAdam, the founder and chairman of the company.

I obtained my Board of Trade Certificates of Competency quite rapidly, and by the end of April 1942 I passed the examinations for my combined first-class certificate. This meant I could be a chief engineer on both diesel- and steam-powered ships.

Before I become a chief engineer, I have to wait for someone already in that position to leave, retire, or die. So I have been a second engineer for the past five months. During that time, my ship had made three round trips between Maracaibo in Venezuela and Stanlow in Cheshire. The last trip had been particularly bad. We travelled north up the American coast to join a convoy being assembled near New York. The convoy was attacked by a pack of U-boats, and five ships were sunk.

We were lucky. Tankers are put in the middle of the convoy, surrounded by the rest of the ships. Oil tankers are a prime target for the U-boats, so we are given the most protection. We were able to escape and managed to deliver our cargo safely. After that trip, I needed a break, so I took three weeks’ leave.

During that leave, I met a girl and bought a cottage in my home village of Eastham. She worked at the bank and lived locally. Her name was Christine, but I had known her a long time. She was two years younger than me. I started to notice her when she was eighteen years old. We had only been together three weeks before I left Eastham, on 19 September, to join my ship in Scotland.

It was a difficult journey north by train, carrying a trunk and a large case. The train was full, so I had to sit on my trunk in the corridor all the way to Edinburgh. I was booked into a hotel close to Grangemouth oil refinery, where my new ship was unloading. The following morning, I was picked up by a taxi and taken to the ship, where I signed on.

I did not bother opening my trunk while I was on board the McIntyre, because everything I needed for a few days had been packed in my case. I had worn my uniform while travelling. In wartime, it made life a lot easier. I had enough working clothes and toiletries to last me for the few days crossing the Atlantic. We did not make the outward journey in a convoy. Our top speed was slightly in excess of twelve knots, nearly sixteen miles an hour. The U-boats seemed to be more attracted to oil tankers when they were loaded. They did not like wasting torpedoes. They concentrated more on the loaded ships heading to the UK from America. Perhaps they liked the firework display when they blew up a loaded oil tanker. As a result, our captain felt it was safe enough to travel alone and try to outrun any threat.

Anyway, it worked, and we arrived at Perth Amboy in New Jersey, late on 1 October.

The company had not given me any information about my new ship before we arrived, so I had no idea what to do. I had been given few instructions, so I decided to wait on board the McIntyre.

The following day, I had just finished my breakfast when the steward came to me and said, The captain wants to see you in his day room. I had changed into my everyday clothes because I felt I would be leaving the ship that day. I had already packed my uniform in my case. I had considered that I would be more important to my new ship because it would not have a second engineer, so I knew I would be leaving the McIntyre very quickly. Before I received this summons, I was beginning to think I may have been a bit presumptuous. Perhaps I would be employed as an extra second engineer on the McIntyre for a bit longer.

I left the table immediately and went along the flying bridge to the captain’s room or office on the ship’s bridge. His office was situated between the navigating area, which contains the ship’s helm, and the compass and the wing of the bridge. The bridge, as it is known, has wings on either side to help the officers see the dock side when the ship arrives or leaves its destination. It makes it much easier to see the mooring area.

I knocked on the door and a voice shouted, Come in.

I went in as ordered. The captain was sat at a desk and did not stand up. He said, How soon can you pack?

I replied, My trunk is ready to go. I have just a few things to put in my case. Fifteen minutes should be plenty of time.

The captain said, OK, I have been informed that a car is waiting for you at the gate. They seem to be in a hurry to get you transferred. So do not keep them waiting too long. I will arrange for two seamen to take your luggage to the car. I would like to wish you well. I believe you will be second engineer on a very interesting ship. I envy you.

He then handed my discharge book to me. He said, This is up to date. Good luck. He stood up and shook my hand.

I left and returned to my cabin. I had just finished packing my case when the two seamen appeared. They picked up my case and trunk, and I followed them to the gate, where a very large car was waiting. The driver jumped out and took my case and trunk from the seamen and put them in the boot. I suppose I should say he put the trunk into the trunk because I was in America. Their English is very different to ours, but we seem to be adapting. I thanked the two seamen, who said, Good luck, sir. They returned to the McIntyre, and I got into the back seat of the car, which I noticed was a Cadillac—the American equivalent to the Rolls-Royce.

The driver said, We are going to New York, sir. It is about a ninety-minute drive, depending on the traffic. If you need any refreshment, there is a minibar in front of you.

I said, I will be all right. Thanks. I leaned back in my seat and relaxed. There was nothing else I could do.

I was taken to a hotel in New York. I cannot remember its name. When I went to reception, I found they were expecting me. They told me to wait, and the receptionist picked up her phone and spoke very quietly into it. After she finished talking, she said, Please sit over there, Mr Spencer. Someone will be down to see you shortly.

I sat in the middle of the foyer with my baggage. By this time, I was getting slightly worried. I had expected to be taken to a ship builder where my new ship was being built.

About five minutes later, a middle-aged man, about fifty, with grey curly hair and a slight stoop, came out of one of the lifts. He walked towards me and asked me to follow him. He did not introduce himself, but he picked the case and trunk up and walked to the lift. I followed him. He pressed number five, and the doors closed. We rose silently to level five.

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2

NEW YORK AND BALTIMORE

We got out of the lift on the fifth floor and went to a door directly opposite. My companion knocked on it gently, and a voice said, Come in. We entered, and when the stooped man closed the door behind us, he said, to the occupant of the room, This is Mr John Spencer, sir.

A chair turned, and a dark-haired man seated in it said, Thank you, Bates. You may leave now. Bates bowed and left, shutting the door behind him. My new companion pointed to a chair opposite him and said, Please be seated. My name is Doctor French. What I am about to say is very confidential. If you agree to work with me, I will take you to the British Consulate General of New York. I will call it the embassy. It is easier to say, but not strictly true. I want to discuss your work in more detail in secure surroundings. You will be expected to sign the Official Secrets Act. Are you interested?

I replied, I expected to be taken to my new ship, I will need more information before I say yes. I cannot think why you need me, but I am prepared to help my country. Will my employers know I am working for you?

He said, It is natural that you need more information. Your chairman knows; however, none of your workmates must know. Your work for me should not interfere with your main employment. Dr French went on to say, I need you because you are joining a T3 oil tanker as second engineer. That ship belongs to the Americans. We feel it may be targeted by the Germans. You seem to be very intelligent, because you are one of the youngest men to obtain a Chief Engineer’s Certificate of Competency in Liverpool, if not the UK. That is why you are here.

Exports from America are vital to our war effort, but the enemy’s U-boats have been too successful with their attacks on our convoys in the North Atlantic. We think we can reduce their successes, but we need help. If you join me, you will not only help the war effort but you will also make your life a bit safer when crossing the Atlantic.

I said, If you put it like that, then my answer has to be yes, but first of all, do you have any identification?

Doctor French pulled a card holder from the inside pocket of his jacket and showed me a card with the portcullis logo at the top. I looked at it, and it had his name on it, followed by a very impressive list of letters indicating he was some kind of medical practitioner working as an attaché for the British ambassador.

I said, Okay, I am interested, and I am willing to go to the embassy with you.

Doctor French went to the door and shouted Bates. A few seconds later, the stooped man came into view. Doctor French said, Take Mr Spencer’s cases and bring the car round, please. We are going to the embassy. He then turned to me and said, I will need you to sign the Official Secrets Act after you have read it very carefully. Basically, you will not disclose any official information without lawful authority. During the period you are employed by my department, anything you learn, or information you are given, must be kept to yourself. I want you to be fully committed, but more importantly, I want you to be sure.

I nodded. He nodded back and guided me out of the room. He dropped the room key off at reception, and we went outside to wait for Bates. The car turned up within two minutes. It was a Rover and had two small Union Jacks on the front mudguards. Bates jumped out and held the passenger door open for us.

We went into the Bronx area and stopped at a building on Second Avenue. It seemed quite tall but was not exactly a skyscraper. An armed guard was on duty, and the doctor showed him his card. I did not think this was the main entrance for the embassy, because we had turned off Second Avenue. There was no doubt it was an official building. We used a lift to go to the fourth floor. Then we walked round an atrium to a door with no number or identification on it. The doctor took a key ring from his pocket and opened it. He stepped to one side and gestured to me to enter. I did so, and he followed, closing the door behind him. He said, This is my office. The government are not very generous so far as their agents are concerned. We do not exist, so far as the consul is concerned. He is embarrassed to have us here. The Americans would also be embarrassed if they knew, so it is essential that you say nothing about this meeting.

The room wasn’t very imposing. It had a small desk but no windows. The air circulation seemed to be good, because the room smelled fresh. There was a coffee table and two chairs in the centre of the room. A bookcase with cupboards stood next to a three-drawer filing cabinet against the wall opposite the door. A radiator was fitted to the wall on my right, and a reasonably large refrigerator stood against the opposite wall. I noticed it had about two dozen glasses of varying sizes on a serving tray on top.

The doctor pointed to the coffee table and chairs and said, Please sit down. We have a great deal to do. Would you like a drink?

I nodded, so he walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. The refrigerator was well stocked. He looked over at me. I was feeling a bit tired, and my throat was dry after all the talking, so I asked for a beer.

Dr French got up and poured an American lager for me and prepared himself a whiskey and water. I noticed that he seemed to prefer Irish whiskey. I was more of a Scotch man myself. He went to the filing cabinet and pulled out a file, then sat down opposite me. We both relaxed for a minute, then he handed me the file,

Inside it was a copy of the Official Secrets Act 1911, with amendments for 1920 and 1939. There were some explanatory notes and papers to sign. I looked at him and said, How long have I got?

Doctor French replied, As long as you need. He sat back and took a sip of his whiskey. I can read reasonably quickly and looked at the first few pages and saw that layout was familiar, very similar to the Factories Act 1937. I read it very quickly and looked at all the amendments and penalties. The documents had been well thumbed, so I assumed there had been other men in the same position as me.

About an hour later, I put the papers on the table and said to Doctor French, If you think I am the right man for the job you have in mind, then I am willing to sign.

I saw the doctor relax, and he picked up some of the papers and said, Read these and sign at the bottom.

I quickly scanned them and took the pen he offered me. After I put my name and date on the last page, he quickly countersigned it and put it in another folder. I noticed it already had my name on the front.

It was starting to get late, so the doctor said, I do not want you to go back to your hotel tonight. Stay here. Bob Hope has been invited here for a banquet. It has been called that officially, but it is dinner based on rationing regulations back in the UK. The ambassador, Viscount Halifax, is visiting us for a few days. He has invited a number of very important Americans to dine and listen to Bob put on a show. He hopes they will donate to our war effort by supplying food and armaments.

I said, That sounds interesting Doctor. Will I be allowed in? I have no dinner suit.

He replied, Don’t worry—we have taken the liberty to bring your trunk and case over here, so your uniform will do very nicely. In fact, the ambassador hopes you will be one of the star attractions. The Americans will want to hear all about the dangers of crossing the Atlantic. Please call me David when we are alone.

I was surprised to hear this and said, Thank you David. I am not used to public speaking. I have only made three round trips across the Atlantic. On my last ship, we were in the centre of the convoy. We lost a lot of ships, and I saw five go down.

Doctor French said, Just tell them that. I want you to tell them that in the first seven months of last year two hundred twenty-three ships were sunk close to the North American coast. Their silhouettes could be seen by the U-boats against the city lights and car headlights on shore. As a result, more than five thousand seaman and passengers died. The war is close to America, and the coastal towns at least should be blacked out.

This was news to me, so I said, Okay, I will do that.

Doctor French said, I want you to enjoy tonight. I have a feeling you will be very busy in the next few months. I will show you to your room.

The lift took us up one more floor, and we walked a few yards to my room. I laughed and said, Surely we could have walked.

Doctor French said, By the time we walked to the nearest staircase, then back here, we could have been in our rooms, showered, and started our first drink of the evening. The doctor did not come into the room for me. He turned to leave and said, I will pick you up at seven. He handed me a piece of paper and said, I have made some notes about losses in the North Atlantic. Hopefully, the information may help our American friends make up their minds about helping us. He moved towards the door but stopped again. He said, Oh, I forgot to mention you will not be joining your ship tomorrow. You will spend another day here. Your ship is new. It was built in the States and should be going on speed trials tomorrow or the following day. You will stay while I update you about your work for me. Remember: you will be working tonight, so please be careful with the alcohol. He handed me the keys and watched me open the door.

I nodded. I said, I have been wearing my uniform a lot since I left the UK. Is it possible to have it cleaned before this evening?

He said, Of course, I will send someone to pick it up in ten minutes.

I stood at the door and watched him leave. I stepped into the room. It looked very comfortable with a three-piece suite, a bar, and a coffee table. There was another door to my right. I assumed it was the bedroom, so I had a good look. I noticed there was an en-suite shower and toilet through another door. I moved back into the sitting room and put the key on the table. I turned and went back into the bedroom. By British standards, the bed was huge. My case had been unpacked and my uniform hung up on a rail by the wardrobe. There was a change of clothing on the bed. Everything seemed to have been freshly pressed, even my socks and underpants. My uniform cap was also placed on the bed, so I assumed I was supposed to wear it.

I removed my uniform from the hanger and put it on the bed. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, a young man said, Your uniform, sir.

I picked it up and handed it to him.

After I had shut the door again, I went over to the en suite and looked in again and saw it was as big as the living room in my cottage. To my amazement, all my toiletries were laid out by the wash hand basin. I am sure I could have swum in the bath, and there was a walk-in shower. I went back to my lounge and stood by the bar. I felt like a whisky. I enjoy Scotch, but usually it signifies the last drink of the day. I opted for a bottle of lager instead. I opened it and strolled over to one of the armchairs. I sat down and took a mouthful of beer from the bottle and thought about the day’s proceedings.

I had no idea why the Secret Intelligence Service wanted me to work for them. I stopped thinking about it. I knew I would find out tomorrow. I still had nearly two hours to kill before I would be picked up. I hadn’t brought a book to read, so I thought I would try to sleep for an hour. To my surprise, I noticed my travel alarm had been put next to the bed. I set it for six o’clock and stretched out, fully clothed, on the bed cover. I fell asleep almost instantly.

My travel alarm clock went off on cue. I woke up with a start, wondering where I was. I remembered that I was in the British embassy, and I had met a spy who wants me. I then realised it wasn’t morning; I was attending a banquet. Suddenly, I realised I only had an hour to get ready. I jumped off the bed and had a quick shower and shave. I went into the living room and found my uniform on the back of a chair.

I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked quite smart in the uniform with the three gold rings on the sleeve. They had the purple background to indicate I was an engineer. I looked again in the mirror and thought I looked too young to be a second engineer. In that case, I felt I could bow to fashion and tied a full Windsor knot in my tie. I knew it would stay in position the entire time. By the time I stopped admiring myself, there was a knock on the door. I opened it. Doctor French stood there in a dinner jacket, so I said, Please come in.

He followed me to the armchairs and looked around. He laughed and said, Your room here is much better than mine. Enjoy it while you can. For your information, there will be a few drinks before the meal. The banquet will consist of three courses. We will have pea soup, corned beef fritters, and rice pudding. The value will be one dollar. This feast is meant to indicate what eating out in England is like. It is emphasised that the content is limited by the law in the UK. The ambassador will introduce you, and you will talk for no more than twenty minutes. I have prepared some notes for you. Here they are. He handed me one page, which had a few sentences typed on it. He said, Mr Bob Hope is expected to entertain us from nine o’clock. Let us go now. Don’t forget your cap.

I locked my door as we left and walked the short distance to the lift. It went down to the second floor. We then walked what seemed like a mile to a large room at the rear of the building. A marine was standing by the door. He noted our names and took my cap. He said, You will get it back when you leave this room, sir.

When we entered, a waiter came up to us with a tray of drinks. We both took one and we took a sip as we looked around the room. It was champagne, which forced me to say, I cannot find any points in my ration book for this, sir.

Doctor Frank replied, I am so glad you haven’t lost your sense of humour. I will introduce you to the ambassador.

We walked to the head of the room. We joined a short queue waiting to shake hands with a short man in elegant clothes with numerous medals on his chest.

While we waited, I looked around the room. A U-shaped table occupied the central area. There were approximately twenty-five seats around it. Five seats were along the head of the U, which was furthest from, but facing, a small stage with a microphone on it. There were ten more seats down the outside of each leg. Obviously, it wasn’t going to be a big banquet, but I expect all those present would be important to the British cause. The Americans needed to know how precarious our position was. We had to make a point. I had a look at the notes Doctor French had given me earlier. They had indicated how close the war was getting to America. I hoped I would please the doctor with my talk. For some reason, it felt important to me.

Suddenly, I found myself standing in front of the ambassador. The doctor shook hands with him and said, Good evening, Mr Ambassador. You know me, of course, but may I introduce my guest, Mr John Spencer. He will be joining his ship soon as the second engineer. He has already crossed the Atlantic many times. He was, and is, in oil tankers carrying much-needed fuel to our islands. He has seen ships being torpedoed and lives lost. The doctor bowed and stepped back.

I stepped forward, inclined my head slightly, and shook hands. The ambassador said, I am pleased to meet you, Mr Spencer, and I look forward to hearing about some of your experiences. I hope you don’t mind me saying so. You look very young to be holding such a responsible position. He shook my hand, and I stepped back without saying anything. I wanted to say that I had all the qualifications for the work I was doing, but I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

The doctor and I walked away, and he said, Well done. You will be giving your presentation before the meal. The guests will have to earn their bread by listening to you. The ambassador will introduce you first. We will stroll around the table to see where we are sitting. No one knows me here, so we should not be interrupted.

We found our seats easily. They were at the end of one of the legs of the U, about as far away from the ambassador as it was possible. I said, I can understand why you felt the ambassador is embarrassed by your presence. Looking at our position on the table, we should be eating in the kitchen. Never mind, David, the service should be good.

David burst out laughing, and a few heads turned. Thank you, John. I am pleased to have you on my side.

Soon after that, one of the caterer’s—I assume he would be called the maître d’—tapped a glass and said, Please be seated, gentlemen. Everyone moved to their seats. It was very orderly. I assumed everyone had checked their position in the hierarchy as soon as they had entered the room.

The ambassador stepped onto the stage and took the microphone. He tapped it, and we all heard him, so he looked satisfied. He then said, Good evening, Mr Vice President. Thank you for being here. Gentlemen, welcome to our wartime presentation. The meal you are about to eat is the best you would be able to get today in Britain. During 1940 and 1941, we lost seven hundred and seventy-nine merchant ships to enemy submarines known as U-boats. Nearly seventeen thousand civilian seamen lost their lives in that time. We do not have figures for the current year, but we know there has been a slight reduction due to the formation of a convoy system. This allows the Royal Navy to offer better protection against the U-boat, but shipping losses and the loss of life is still very high. Gentlemen, we need your help. Mr Spencer, who is with us tonight, will soon be making that dangerous crossing across the North Atlantic in a laden oil tanker. He will talk about some of his experiences. Please welcome Mr John Spencer. He looked at me, smiled, and gestured to me to join him.

That shook me. I was going to talk to Mr Henry Wallace, the vice president of the United States. There was some mild clapping. I rose to my feet. Fortunately, I did not have far to walk to the stage. I climbed the few steps onto the stage and shook hands with the ambassador. He said, Good luck, son, and left the stage.

I took a deep breath. I started my presentation by say, Good evening, Mr Vice President and gentlemen. I hesitated, then I said, "I am honoured to be here and even more honoured to be asked to talk to you tonight. I trust you will enjoy your meal.

I joined the British merchant navy in June 1939 as a junior engineer and signed a contract with a large oil company. During that time, I have worked and studied hard to gain my Chief Engineer’s Certificate of Competency. I am young to be in the position I have attained. I am a second engineer about to join a new oil tanker. I have been given that ship and my senior position because we are losing ships and personnel more quickly than we can replace them.

I hesitated for a moment. Then I went on, "The ambassador has already told you. In 1940 and 1941, German U-boats sank seven hundred seventy-nine ships, with the loss of more than sixteen thousand five hundred seamen. These men are civilians. They are doing a job which can be dangerous even in peacetime. They have to be properly protected. We do not have figures for the current year; however, the British have introduced a convoy system which makes it easier for the Royal Navy to protect the ships. Since this change, there appears to be a drop in the number of losses.

The system is not perfect. The speed of the convoy is governed by the speed of the slowest ship. It is necessary to change direction at irregular intervals to make it harder for the U-boats to prepare for a shot at the ships. Zigzagging, in close formation, would be difficult after months of training. It is impossible when men from different backgrounds and different languages have to do it with no training. Collisions are common.

The situation can get worse, when there is an explosion. Even an escort dropping depth charges can cause some captains to panic. Their first instinct is to change direction and go full ahead to escape. Convoys are easily scattered and hard to get back into position.

"While I have been employed as a seagoing engineer, I have made three North Atlantic crossings to South America and back to the UK. Usually, the U-boats will ignore an unladen ship unless it is an easy target with no escort. They like to save their torpedoes for ships with vital cargoes on board.

"Every time I have crossed the Atlantic, the ship’s destination has been Maracaibo, in Venezuela. We loaded with crude oil for refineries in the UK. Crude oil is particularly dangerous because it contains all the various hydrocarbons from butane to bitumen. The tanks have to be sealed to stop losing the gases if they evaporate. Pressure relief valves have to be fitted to each cargo tank to stop it exploding if the safe working pressure is exceeded. The crew is virtually living on a bomb. Any source of ignition will cause an explosion. A torpedo hit will almost certainly cause a violent explosion, with probably a total loss of life.

"My first two ships crossed the Atlantic on their own because they were modern and could travel at sixteen knots. That is about twenty miles per hour. There was no convoy system in place, but it seemed fast enough to give the ship a fighting chance. The third ship was older, with a top speed of ten knots. It had to join a convoy with another oil tanker. It was decided to place the oil tankers in the middle of the convoy to make them a harder target for the U-boats. This did not go down well with the other ship’s captains. They felt the convoy would be a prime target. It seemed to be inevitable that they were correct. The convoy was attacked. As usual, the convoy scattered, and to my knowledge five cargo ships were sunk.

"It may seem as though I am against the convoy system. I am not. I feel that the captains should all be assembled before a convoy leaves. Someone from the Royal or American navy should address them and tell them what is expected from them while travelling in a convoy. The ships guarding the convoy have a leading ship, whose captain has complete control, and he makes all the decisions. Perhaps the captains of the cargo ships should have more training regarding travelling in convoy.

"I also believe that when new ships are being built to replace losses, they must be provided with propulsion units which will provide speeds in excess of sixteen knots. That will allow them to have a chance of outrunning the U-boats.

"I have heard that American shipyards are building cargo ships and tankers by welding the steel plates together. This method of joining the plates helps movement through the water by providing a smoother surface. Speeds should increase as a result. I have also heard, but it may be an exaggeration, that these ships can be built in seventy days. I believe the tankers are known as T2s, and the cargo ships are known as Liberty ships. Rumour has it, they are only to be used to service the American armed forces. I would hope they could be made available to the British to help them feed their citizens.

"There are lots of stories going around the merchant marine industry based on loose talk. Seamen have a habit of talking too much when ashore. More emphasis must be given to keeping destinations secret. If the crew know, you can be sure the enemy do too. While I am on this stage, I would like to mention something else which you could do to help the men who sail the seas for a living. What I am going to tell you can affect American seamen’s lives as much as British lives. The enemy’s activities are so close to your eastern coastline, especially off New York and up to the Canadian border, that coastal shipping can be and is being attacked.

"U-boats have been gathering in the North Atlantic, very close to your coast. They must have a supply ship somewhere in the mid-Atlantic. From 13 January 1942, in less than eight months, more than 230 ships have been sunk, with the loss of more than five thousand seamen. I understand that all the ships were sitting targets because their silhouettes were highlighted against lights on shore and car headlights. May I suggest that you give some thought to imposing a blackout to those coastal areas?

That is all I have to say, Mr Vice President and gentlemen. I would like to add that I am a concerned citizen of the United Kingdom. I am a civilian, and I am most definitely not a politician. If I have heard things that shouldn’t be heard, then they have been heard and passed on by thousands of seamen. Thank you for listening to me. I hope my input has been useful.

I bowed slightly and started to leave the stage. My audience all stood up and clapped. The vice president turned and said something to the ambassador, who nodded. The vice president held up his hand and walked towards the stage, indicating that I should stay.

He stood next to me and put his arm round my shoulder. He said very quietly, You certainly say it as you see it, son. Well done. I know the twenty minutes is up, but I am sure you won’t mind if some in the audience can ask you questions. Bob can wait until you are finished. The ambassador will be paying him enough.

I was a bit put out. I have been called son twice now by two older men. I put that to one side and nodded. I said, I hope I can answer them, sir. I have a feeling I may upset somebody.

He replied, Don’t worry—they are used to it. He then took the microphone and switched it on. I was glad I had the presence of mind to switch it off when I saw the vice president walking towards me.

He said, I gather that some of you gentlemen want to ask Mr Spencer a few questions. He has indicated that he prepared to answer them if he can. So the floor is yours. He handed the microphone to me and said, Good luck, John.

I faced the audience, and there were at least ten hands up. I said, I will answer questions in my order, gentlemen. I will start with the top table. I pointed to the man next to the vice president. I will start with you, sir. I am sure if I can answer your question to everybody’s satisfaction we will be able to relax and listen to Mr Bob Hope after we have eaten our meal.

Everybody laughed, and the man I had pointed smiled. He stood up and a waiter handed him a microphone. The man waited until the waiter left the room. He then said, My name isn’t important, but where does your information come from?

I thought for a moment, and replied, "Have you heard of the word scuttlebutt? I am sure you have; the word originated in America. The British merchant navy is full of scuttlebutt. I have tried to think of all the contentious statements in my talk. The shipping losses in the past two years were highlighted by our ambassador. The last ship I was on was full of talk about packs of U-boats close to the American coast. The British newspapers have stories virtually every day about the war in the North Atlantic. It is also common knowledge in the UK about your Liberty ships. They have already delivered goods to Liverpool. I have heard of T2 tankers in technical literature. I can also describe their power plants in some detail. Just before I left home, some seamen on leave in the local public house were talking about five thousand seamen dying close to the shores of America. I am afraid there are no secrets between seamen. None of us know whether we will see out this war. The merchant navy has already lost more men than any of our armed forces. My sources are everywhere."

I stopped for a moment. Then I said, I hope that answers your question. If you are questioning my figures, I have to admit they may be wrong. There is no doubt losses by the merchant navy are heavier than any other service. There is also no doubt in my mind that U-boat packs are operating close to the American coast.

The man to whom I was talking stood up and said, Thank you. He sat down again.

I looked around the room, but no one seemed to move. Then a man in naval uniform put his hand up. It wasn’t a Royal Navy uniform, and he had more rings on his sleeve than I did. He stood up and said, My name isn’t important, and I don’t want you to be put off by my rank. I was very interested in your presentation. You made a lot of sense, and if you were on my staff, I am sure you would do well. What are your views about the advantages of convoys over letting the ships cross the Atlantic alone? He sat down.

I smiled, and said, Thank you for the compliments. There is no doubt that, since the introduction of the convoy system, shipping losses due to the U-boat threat have dropped. I can only repeat what I hear from other seamen. We know all the ship’s captains attend a meeting with the Royal Navy before sailing. They should know how to react when ordered to do something. Response times seem to vary considerably. Obviously, language differences cause a problem. On occasion, some of them panic. I have referred to this in my talk. I think consideration should be given to putting one, or even two, English-speaking naval officers on every ship to act as advisors or pilots. A disadvantage is that a convoy’s speed is limited to that of the slowest ship. I feel that ships with top speeds in excess of sixteen knots stand a better chance of avoiding the U-boats. That is why I suggested all new builds should have propulsion units capable of speeds above sixteen knots.

I thought for a moment before continuing. I said, While I was answering that question, I had another thought. I would also like to say that I feel the German’s get a lot of information about our convoy movements. They always seem to be in good positions to attack. It happens too frequently to be just good luck.

I said, Thank you for that question. Is there anything else we can discuss?

No further hands were raised. The ambassador stood up and came back to the stage. He took the microphone from and said, Thank you, John. I really enjoyed your talk. I agree with the admiral. I think you have a great future ahead of you. Please give a big hand to John. I am sure you have enjoyed his short presentation.

Everybody stood up and clapped as I walked back to my seat. Doctor French patted me on the back and said, Well done.

The ambassador stayed on the stage and said nothing until I sat down. He said, The waiters will be in here in the next few to serve your meal. We also have some excellent Californian wine. Please enjoy it. I understand it is almost impossible to obtain a bottle back in the UK.

There was a menu in front of me. I looked at it while I tried to take in my surroundings. I was certainly mixing with people far above my station in life. The menu was very ornately printed completely in French. My schoolboy French was good enough to know we were getting pea soup of Great Britain as the first course. The menu sounded good, but I did not think anyone would be impressed.

It was printed on gold letters on white card and read:

I, Soupe aux pois Grande-Bretangne.

Plat principal, Biegnels de boeufe sale,

                    Pomme frits,

                    Carottes.

Dessert, Riz au lait.

Doctor French leaned towards me and whispered, "Well done John. You pitched that just right, and I was particularly pleased with your use of the word scuttlebutt. The Americans will start to take notice that gossip can be very dangerous in wartime."

I replied, I was a bit worried about mentioning the losses in American waters because I had heard about them from you. I guessed that if they think it is something which is known generally, and they are doing nothing, then perhaps it will force their hand.

Doctor French said, That is correct and exactly what I hoped you would say. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I hope you will be fully briefed by the end of it so you can join your new ship. The owners want you to be familiar with the engine room before they sail to the refinery. Apparently, you will have a cargo of aviation fuel to be offloaded in the Mersey.

The dinner tasted much better than I expected. I did not have