Laurence Scott’s Recollections of War Serving in the Merchant Navy

When war broke out, I was the third mate on the passenger ship Eastern Prince. We were in Buenos Aires on the usual run from New York, but this time we loaded a cargo of meat and headed up the South Atlantic for the UK. We were in company with another Group vessel, Highland Brigade or a sister ship, and it was our duty to keep station on her. A few days out and we had to reverse course for several hours until dark, the lookout having spotted the smoke of a very fast moving vessel right ahead and crossing. Often wondered since if we just missed a Raider!

We were zigzagging along near the Azores when the Highland boat put up 'K' flag (Stop your vessel instantly). Thinking that we were making it all too easy for the subs, we hove to, and our friend passed slowly to starboard. Using a megaphone an order came across for us to lower a motorboat and send our doctor over to perform an immediate operation. Our Captain wanted to know why their own doctor couldn't do the job? "It is our doctor that needs the op." came the answer. Having sent the doctor over, we at once resumed full speed and our zigzag pattern. We didn't see the doctor again until we berthed in the UK. He had to borrow clothes, as the weather got colder, as he had embarked in 'whites' and we arrived during the winter. His transfer in mid-ocean was to no avail however, as the patient was too ill to have an operation.

After one or two trips across to the States bringing back much needed war equipment, it was decided to convert the Eastern Prince to trooping. During one of the many raids on the Liverpool docks, we received a direct hit. Fortunately, I had decided to go ashore that night as my cabin was destroyed and I lost all my possessions. While the Eastern Prince was being repaired I joined the Javanese Prince carrying supplies across the North Atlantic. In May 1941, I left the Javanese Prince and rejoined the Eastern Prince to sail out on the first trooping voyage to the Cape. The Javanese Prince was torpedoed and sunk on her next trip across the Atlantic.

My two years on the Eastern Prince (May 1941 — May 1943) carrying troops between South Africa, Suez, Persian Gulf and India, was full of incidents. We joined in the re-occupation of Madagascar—a bit of a non-event actually. Far more hair-raising was our trip in the Mediterranean taking South African miners to Beyrouth. On that occasion, our one ship had two destroyers as escort. One night a gunner fell asleep at his post and accidentally fired off tracer bullets. As this was the signal that an enemy periscope had been sighted, you can imagine the activity that ensued—30 knot destroyers dashing about with their searchlights scanning the sea. Our Captain had to do some explaining when he was summoned to the Escort Commander on arrival at destination.

A couple of trips to Basra were made, during which the temperature was over 100 degrees at midnight and kilted bagpipers played on No3 hatch as we sailed up the Persian Gulf. We brought out from Basra the first of many Polish refugees, taking them to Mombasa for settlement. I'll never forget the sight of these unfortunate old men and women emerging from the holds to visit the deck latrines and wash-houses. They had been shorn completely of hair and had lost all sense of dignity while in the Russian Camps—they all emerged on deck without a stitch of clothing! Panic stations for a while until interpreters had instructed the 'passengers' to wear clothes. On arrival in Mombasa we disembarked the Poles and were expecting to leave for South Africa. Another troopship with boiler trouble came in to port listing drunkenly and we were told to get ready to embark her RAF troops bound for Bombay. One Warrant Officer was my brother Edward, who I had not seen for 8 years. When I had got over the shock, I went to the Captain. I knew that the first rule of the Company re passengers was—their best interests can be served by the Officers adhering strictly to the navigation of the ship. Captain Smith said—"It's a chance in a million—make the most of it!"

On one occasion the Eastern Prince was picked to be Commodore ship for a big convoy to Singapore. I don’t know why we were picked, as our engines were not too reliable by this time. We had on board a retired Admiral as Commodore of Convoy and he carried with him a couple of signalmen. Our bridge watches were more than usually active, with flag signals etc. We were taken by surprise one morning just before noon by a Morse signal from a ship in the outer column—'Unidentified object over the convoy'. The sky was clear blue and cloudless, and search as we might there wasn't anything to be seen. The Admiral gave his signalman orders to reply 'Acknowledged' probably thinking that would be that. But no! Shortly after, a further message was flashed to us—'Unidentified object is still over convoy, I request permission to open fire'. After some further fruitless searching of the sky, someone had an idea—probably he can see Venus (this was not altogether unlikely as we had used that planet for latitude position at about 10:30 am when it was on the meridian). So the next reply was 'Permission granted but suggest the range is forty million miles'.

Almost at once tracer bullets were streaking aloft. Then we were almost blinded by a huge daylight-signalling lamp from the horizon—'Stop firing at my balloon'. Unknown to us, we were being screened by a battleship and he had sent up a weather balloon. Next day he showed himself to us, steaming through the centre columns of the convoy, before disappearing again over the horizon. Although we didn't know it at the time, we had our first view of an RDF (Radar). The Admiral saw that over the big guns there were some unusual objects and sent a message to the battleship asking for an explanation. "A highly secret aid to gunnery" came the answer, much to the chagrin of the Admiral. He demanded to know the name and rank of the Commanding Officer but that didn't help!

Our convoy spent several weeks in the Indian Ocean not reaching any destination; in fact we returned to Colombo—eventually taking the same troops down to Fremantle. While at anchor in Colombo harbour, the Captain asked for a volunteer to cox the motorboat taking a sick man to hospital. When the poor fellow was lowered into the boat, the sheet covering him moved, and I saw he was covered with smallpox sores. Arriving at the isolation hospital berth, I (and the three crew members) found ourselves taking special showers—our clothes steamed and our boat sprayed with a disinfecting solution. It was the SW monsoon period and I had gone ashore in a gabardine raincoat—when it was returned to me the sleeves had shrunk almost to my elbows.

I left Eastern Prince in Bombay after two years and came home, with several shipmates, on a Cunard trooper—an uneventful voyage, thank goodness.

I spent the next 10 months in the UK, studying for my Masters ticket and “coasting” (carrying cargo between British ports). After sitting my exams for my Masters ticket I joined the Egyptian Prince in March of 1944. My Discharge Book shows that I joined the English Prince in London on 18th August 1944 and finally left her on Christmas Day 1947. During those three and half years as Chief Officer I loaded a variety of cargoes and visited ports not usually on Prince Line routes. On that first voyage out from London to India we had two tween decks full of an explosive powder used for filling mines. I was pleased the English Prince was fitted with paravanes, DG gear and anti-torpedo nets. The nets were suspended between booms on the masts and when in position over the side they covered about three quarters of the ship's length and the waterline to the keel level. They slowed our speed a couple of knots but the sense of protection outweighed the loss of speed. I never did learn whether they were considered a success - thankfully no torpedo was tried against us! We were in Australia when the war ended and Capt. P was very keen to revert back to Prince Line colours - white housing, Furness funnel and PL feathers. We already had the grey topsides. I remember we used a signwriter to paint the feathers on the funnel; an excellent job indeed. We loaded a cargo of Army stores for the Australian troops in Japan and the port of discharge was close enough to Hiroshima for a visit. That was by jeep with the compliments of the Army - and what a sight.

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