Chapter 1 Sun sets on Nippon; Triumph of Sea power; Convoy to Leyte; Panic Stations

THE TRIUMPH OF SEA POWER

THE official narrative in "H.M.A.S. Mk. III" brought the record of war-time events up to the end of September 1944. The position then was, broadly, as stated in that book. September had been a month of great happenings. In both the European and Pacific theatres, the Allies were breaching the defensive lines of the Axis Powers and ever constricting the nets surrounding them.

The fifth anniversary of the outbreak of war saw the Allies in Belgium, and in Italy the Gothic Line broken and Pisa captured; American patrols over the Moselle River and, in the south of France, American and French troops enter Lyons.

Finland withdrew from the war on the 4th September, the day that Allied troops captured Antwerp. On the following day Russia declared war on Bulgaria, which country asked for an armistice and declared war on Germany on the 7th. Russian troops entered Bulgaria without opposition next day, and hostilities between the two countries ceased on the 9th. Two days later, American troops crossed the German frontier while the British Second Army entered Holland.

On the 13th of the month the first Siegfried Line fort was stormed by the Americans, and five days later General Eisenhower announced the establishment of Allied Military Government in German territory. On the 19th Russia and Great Britain signed an armistice with Finland, and on the 23rd September the Russians entered Hungary, British troops advancing across Holland penetrating a mile into Germany the following day.

While the hour was striking for Germany in the West, the Allied hammer blows on the inner fringes of Japan's perimeter in the East were echoing in Tokyo. During September it was officially announced that 501 Japanese aircraft and 173 Japanese ships had been destroyed in a week. On the 16th of the month United States forces landed on Morotai Island, the Halmaheras and on Pelelieu in the
Palau Group. In Burma, where Lord Louis Mountbatten's campaign constituted what Mr. Churchill described as "a startling fact-the largest and most important ground fighting that has yet taken place against the armies of Japan", the Japanese Army was recoiling before the British Fourteenth Army in deep depression and heavily mauled".

In the same review of the war, which Mr. Churchill delivered to the House of Commons on the 28th September, the British Prime Minister spoke of additional British strength shortly to come to the Pacific. "As I explained to Congress when I last addressed them, we have losses to repair and injuries to repay on the Japanese account at least equal to, if not indeed greater than, those suffered by the United States. We owe it to Australia and New Zealand to help them to remove for ever the Japanese menace to their homelands; and as they have helped us on every front in the fight against Germany, we will certainly not be behindhand in giving them effective aid.... Accordingly we offered to the United States a fine modern British fleet, and we asked that it should be employed in the major operations against Japan.

This offer was at once cordially accepted. A large portion of this fleet is already gathered in the Indian Ocean. . . . We have already, nine months ago, begun the creation of an immense fleet train, comprising many vessels, large and medium, specially fitted as repair ships, recreation ships for personnel, provision and munition ships, and many modern variants, in. order that our fleet may have a degree of mobility which for several months together will make them largely independent of main shore bases.... Thus we hope to place in the Pacific a fleet capable in itself of fighting a general action with the Japanese Navy, and which, added to the far greater United States naval power, should give a naval command in all these vast ocean spaces and seas of the most complete and decisive character."

This contribution to the general Allied strength was in addition to British commitments on the European continent, where "I am glad to say that after 120 days of fighting we still bear, in the cross-Channel troops, a proportion of two to three in personnel and of four to five and a half in fighting divisions in France"; and in Burma, where the Fourteenth Army, "amounting to between 250,000 and 300,000 men, apart from rear-ward services which, in that theatre of extraordinarily long and precarious communications, are very large, has by its aggressive operation guarded the base of the American air line to China and protected India against the horrors of a Japanese invasion". As Mr. Churchill said: "Considering that the population of the Empire-of British race-is only 70,000,000 and that we have sustained many losses in the early years of the war, it certainly is a remarkable effort. "

Sea power made this remarkable effort possible and practicable, such effort entailing, as it did, firstly the integrity of the island of Great Britain as the for-ward base for Allied operations-including air strikes-against Germany, and the feeding and supplying from overseas of the large war-industrial population and hundreds of thousands of ground and air forces personnel with raw materials and munitions and weapons of war; and secondly the transport of personnel and war materials from that island to the overseas battlefronts, to the continent of Europe no less than to more distant areas.

Fleet-Admiral King, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Fleet and Chief of Naval Operations, touched on this point in his Final Official Report on the United States Navy at war when he said:

"In the European war, sea power was an essential factor because of the necessity of transporting our entire military effort across the Atlantic and supporting it there. Without command of the sea, this could not have been done. Nevertheless, the surrender of the land, sea and air forces of the German Reich on the 8th May, 1945, was the direct result of the application of air power over land and the power of the Allied ground forces. In the Pacific war, the power of our ground and strategic air forces, like sea power in the Atlantic, was an essential factor.

By contrast with Germany, however, Japan's armies were intact and undefeated and her air forces only weakened when she surrendered, but her navy had been destroyed and her merchant fleet had been fatally crippled. Dependent upon imported food and raw materials and relying upon sea transport to supply her armies at home and overseas, Japan lost the war because she lost command of the sea, and in doing so lost-to us-the island bases from which her factories and cities could be destroyed by air.... The defeat of Japan was directly due to our overwhelming power at sea."

By September 1944 the sea war against Germany was decided, if not over. In November of that year Mr. Churchill, in his Mansion House speech at the Lord Mayor's luncheon, said: "The U-boat menace has for the time being - I always put that sort of remark in, because life is full of changes and hazards in these years - the U-boat menace has for the time being been practically effaced. There was one recent month in which up to the last day they did not sink a single ship.

On the last day they got one-therefore the matter was hardly of a character to be specially mentioned. But that great peril which hung over us for so long and at times concentrated the whole attention of the defence organization of this country and of the United States has been effaced, and from the air there rains down on the guilty German land a hail of fire and explosive of ever-increasing fury."

The weight of Allied sea power could, therefore, be enhanced in the Pacific. We have seen that a British fleet was promised. What of the Royal Australian Navy?

At this period the Australian naval forces were-as they had been since the entry of Japan into the war-concentrated against that country. His Majesty's Royal Australian Naval Squadron-comprising H.M.A. Ships Australia (Flag), Shropshire, Arunta and Warramunga -under the command of Commodore J. A. Collins, C.B., R.A.N., was operating as a unit of the U.S. Seventh Fleet, commanded by Vice-Admiral Thomas C. Kinkaid, U.S.N., under the Supreme South-west Pacific Command of General MacArthur. The Squadron took part in the Morotai operations in September. Other R.A.N. units serving with the U.S. forces in the amphibious operations establishing footholds on the stepping stones leading to Japan were the ships of the R.A.N. Survey Group-which continued to do invaluable work in the spearhead of the advance in circumstances of great difficulty and considerable danger-and the three landing ships (infantry), H.M.A. Ships Westralia, Kanimbla and Manoora.

Under the operational command of the Commander, South-west Pacific Sea Frontiers (Admiral Sir Guy Royle, K.C.B., C.M.G., Chief of the Australian Naval Staff), the greater number of R.A.N. units and personnel -the ships comprising destroyers, sloops, frigates, corvettes and motor-launches-together with considerable shore establishments, were in the northern Australian and New Guinea waters and areas, the ships being employed on escort and other duties, including bombardments of Japanese positions in the islands.

On the western side of the Japanese perimeter R.A.N. units, comprising a number of corvettes and the "N" and "Q" class destroyers, were attached to the Eastern Fleet. These ships were doing great service on convoy escort duty around the Indian coast and in the Persian Gulf and Arabian Sea, and on fleet screening duties, in which the destroyers participated in various air strikes carried out against the Japanese. On both the western and eastern sides of the perimeter, the R.A.N. was to play an active part in the months ahead.

The strategy in the Pacific was, in the words of Fleet-Admiral King, "to advance on the core of the Japanese position from two directions". Under General MacArthur, a combined Allied Army-Navy force was moving north from the Australian region. Under Fleet-Admiral Chester Nimitz, a United States 'Army and Marine force was moving west from Layte. By September 1944 the for-ward movement of these steady twin drives had brought the Allies to Morotai in the southern area and to the Marianas and Palau Islands to the northwards.

They thus now controlled the southern half of the crescent-shaped chain of islands running from Tokyo to the southern Philippines. Bypassed Japanese positions-in the Solomons, New Guinea and New Britain, and the Central and Eastern Carolines, including the base at Truk-were completely isolated. The now impending move was on the Philippine Islands.

Both the South-west Pacific forces under General MacArthur, and the Central Pacific forces under Fleet-Admiral Nimitz were directly concerned in this operation. The actual landing was carried out by troops under General MacArthur, covered and supported by the Seventh Fleet, which was greatly augmented by Pacific Fleet forces. The U.S. Third Fleet, under Admiral William F. Halsey, Jr, covered and supported the operation by air strikes over Formosa, Luzon and the Visayas, and provided protection for the landing against heavy units of the Japanese fleet.

His Majesty's Royal Australian Naval Squadron formed part of an Allied force under Rear-Admiral Berkey, U.S.N., acting as close support and covering group with the Northern Attack Force under Rear-Admiral Barbey, U.S.N.

The Squadron left Manus-where the flag-, ship was honoured with a visit from Admiral of the Fleet Lord Keyes, G.C.B., K.C.V.O., C.M.G., D.S.O., LL.D., D.C.L., at the invitation of Commodore Collins-on the 11th October, and departed from Hollandia for the operation on Friday, the 13th October.

The landings on Leyte Island took place as scheduled on the morning of Friday, the 2oth October, all ships of the Squadron taking part in the bombardment of enemy positions ashore.

It was on the following morning-Trafalgar Day-that H.M.A.S. Australia suffered damage and losses from enemy attack. During the dawn stand-to, a low-flying Japanese aircraft approached from the land between the flagship and H.M.A.S. Shropshire, It was taken under fire and apparently hit, retiring to the westward. It then, however, turned east again, passed up the port side of Australia under heavy fire, and crashed into the foremast at 0605.

Severe damage was done to the mast and installations, and large quantities of wreckage fell on to the compass platform, an explosion having occurred with the crash, and an intense fire having started on the bridge. Bridge personnel, both officers and ship's company, suffered casualties. Commodore Collins suffered bums and wounds which incapacitated him for some months; while the commanding officer, Captain E. F. V. Dechaineux, D.S.C., R.A.N., and Acting Commander J. M. Rayment, D.S.C., R.A.N., were among those mortally wounded. The list of casualties in the ship amounted to thirty killed and many wounded more or less seriously. Following this regrettable incident, H.M.A.S. Australia, under the command of Commander H.C. Wright, R.A.N., and escorted by H.M.A.S. Warramunga, departed from the area for Manus.

H.M.A. Ships Shropshire and Arunta remained with Seventh Fleet, and on the 25th October took part in the surface action which developed as a result of a Japanese attempt to force Surigao Strait from the south. The two ships formed part of a powerful force of battleships, cruisers and destroyers under Rear-Admiral J. B. Oldendorf, U.S.N. In the night action which resulted from the enemy ships-consisting of two battleships, one heavy cruiser and four destroyers-entering the straits where the awaiting Allied force trapped them, the Japanese lost two battleships and three destroyers almost before they could open fire. The heavy cruiser and one destroyer escaped, but the cruiser was sunk on the following day by U.S. aircraft. Other ships of the Japanese force which did not engage in the night action were either later sunk or badly damaged by air attack. Allied casualties were confined to one U.S. destroyer severely damaged by gunfire.

Meanwhile another Japanese force, consisting of five battleships, eight cruisers and thirteen destroyers, had passed through Mindoro Strait-where they suffered losses from U.S. carrier aircraft, including the sinking of the new battleship Musashi, one cruiser and one destroyer-and continued on through San Bernardino Strait and down the east coast of Samar Island to attack the U.S. group of escort carriers, and H.M.A.S. Shropshire was one of a force under Rear-Admiral Oldendorf in U.S.S. Louisville formed to counter this menace. The enemy had, however, broken off the engagement with the carrier force and retired through San Bernardino Strait, suffering heavily from air attack by U.S. carrier aircraft, and was not brought to action by Rear Admiral Oldendorf.

While these actions were in progress, the Battle of Cape Engano, fought between Admiral Halsey's Third Fleet and a powerful enemy force of carriers, battleships, cruisers and destroyers, progressed throughout most of the 25th October, heavy losses being inflicted on the Japanese. By the end of the day on the 26th October, 1944, the Battle for Leyte Gulf was over and the three enemy forces were either destroyed or had retreated. The major Japanese threat to the initial Philippine landing was averted, and the enemy's total surface power severely crippled.

On the 9th December, 1944, Commodore H. B. Farncomb, D.S.O., M.V.0., R.A.N., who had been serving overseas with the Royal Navy and had been appointed as Commodore Commanding His Majesty's Royal Australian Naval Squadron Vice Commodore J. A. Collins, C.B., R.A.N., hoisted his broad pendant in H.M.A.S. Australia.

In the overseas theatres the war continued favourably for the Allies. In Europe, the German defences were being breached on the west, the south and the east. Allied troops captured Corinth on the 10th October, and three days later the Russians entered Riga. Germany announced Rommel's death "from wounds" on the '5th of the month. On the i8th the Russians entered Czechoslovakia, and Hitler admitted Germany's desperate position by ordering all German men between the ages of sixteen and sixty to join the people's army under Himmler. Belgrade fell to the Russians and Aachen to U.S. troops on the 2oth, the Russians making a big advance into East Prussia on the 24th.

British troops landed on the island of Walcheren on the ist November, and on the 3rd Belgium was liberated with the surrender of the Germans in the Scheldt pocket. Russians reached the outskirts of Budapest on the 5th November, and on the 7th the British captured Middelburg, capital of Walcheren. U.S. troops established new crossings over the Moselle. In the United States presidential elections Mr. Roosevelt won a decisive victory over Mr. Thomas Dewey, thus entering his fourth term in the high office.

On the 8th November the Germans announced what the English authorities had known for some time-that they were using their new missile, the V2 rocket, against London. This was to an extent a substitute for the Vi flying bomb, the use of which had been largely stopped by the British overrunning the bomb sites in the Netherlands. Only occasional V1's were now used against England, being launched from Heinkel aircraft. The V2, however, was to be used to well nigh the conclusion of the war against Germany.

The 12th November saw a further victory of naval importance for the Allies, when R.A.F. bombers sank the German battleship Tirpitz. Throughout November the advance on Germany continued, an important stage being reached with the opening of Antwerp to Allied shipping on the last day of the month. This month marked also an important stage in the war against Japan, the first bombing of Tokyo by U.S. Super Fortresses taking place on the 24th November.

On the 10th December the formation of the British Pacific Fleet, under the command of Admiral Sir Bruce Fraser, G.C.B., K.B.E., was announced. Force was given to the announcement in Australia by the arrival in Fremantle of H.M.S. Howe with escorting destroyers, including H.M.A.S. Quiberon. The B.P.F. had begun its happy association with this country and the R.A.N., an association that was to continue throughout the Pacific war and subsequently.

During the closing months of the year the smaller ships of the R.A.N. had been busily employed in activity against the enemy, some, more fortunate than others, in definite offensive action. H.M.A. Ships Vendetta, Barcoo, Swan, Burdekin and Cootamundra were so employed, in some cases covering the A.I.F. landing at Jacquinot Bay on the 4th November, and in others in various bombardments, as at Wide Bay and Halmahera Island.

In Europe the year ended with the last military throw of the Germans in a full-scale offensive on the American sector of the Western Front. It was an offensive which carried them several miles into Belgium and Luxemburg. By the middle of January, however, all organized enemy resistance at the western end of the salient he had formed had ceased, and the German debacle was setting in.

January 1945 saw the R.A.N. in action against the Japanese from both the west and east. In the Pacific, the Squadron, under the command of Commodore Farncomb in H.M.A.S. Australia, participated in the operations against Luzon in the Philippines as part of the Luzon Attack Force commanded by Vice-Admiral Kinkaid, U.S.N., when elements of Sixth United States Army effected their landing. Other R.A.N. ships present at this operation were H.M.A. Ships Manoora, Kanimbla and Westralia, and ships of the Survey Group.

In these operations H.M.A.S. Australia again suffered severe damage and heavy casualties from enemy aircraft which crashed on board her. During the period 5th to 9th January, she sustained four direct hits by enemy aircraft and one near miss. Casualties in these attacks amounted to twenty-seven officers and men killed and died of wounds, and seventeen missing presumed killed, besides many wounded. Despite her damage and losses, H.M.A.S. Australia fulfilled all her bombardment and support obligations, remaining with the force until the evening of the 9ththe day of the landing-when she returned to Leyte for repairs with H.M.A.S. Arunta, which had also suffered damage and casualties. From Leyte Commodore Farncomb transferred with his staff to H.M.A.S. Shropshire, hoisting his broad pendant in that ship on the 22nd January.

In the Indian Ocean H.M.A. Ships Napier, Nepal and Norman of the Seventh Destroyer Flotilla (Captain H. J. Buchanan, D.S.O., R.A.N., Captain (D) in Napier) were variously employed in the operations against the Japanese in the Burma campaign, involving the assaults on Akyab, Myebon, and Ramree, Cheduba and Sagu. Islands. For a while during these operations H.M.A.S. Nepal wore the flag of the C in C. Eastern Fleet, Vice Admiral Sir A. J. Power, K.C.B., C.V.O. On the 3rd January, when H.M.A. Ships Napier and Nepal were off Akyab Harbour while the landing was in progress further up the coast, the flotilla navigating officer, Lieutenant-Commander J. M. Ramsay, R.A.N., was sent in M.L.829 (a South African M.L.) to reconnoitre the harbour entrance and bar.

As no sign of life was seen ashore, Lieutenant-Commander Ramsay, with two able seamen in a dinghy, landed and explored the vicinity, securing a Union Flag to a telegraph pole on the wharf and making a quick reconnaissance

of the town, thus being the first European in Akyab since the Japanese occupation. The advanced elements of the assault force, having been held up by a damaged bridge across a chaung two or three miles from Akyab, did not enter the town until the following morning.

Events in the Philippines moved swiftly, and in mid-February Manila was reduced. H.M. Royal Australian Naval Squadron under Commodore Farncomb was present at the operations against Corregidor, HMA. Ships Shropshire, Arunta and Warramunga taking part in the bombardments of the island on the 16th February. Ships of the Survey Group were also much in evidence throughout these operations, and continued to give the yeoman service for which they had become noted.

In the New Guinea area, R.A.N. ships continued their activities against enemy shore positions. During the first half of 1945, H.M.A. Ships Vendetta, Swan, Colac, Dubbo, Kiama, Lithgow and Diamantina, participated on different occasions in various bombardments of New Guinea and island areas.

Mr. Churchill's promise of a powerful British fleet for the Pacific had materialized, and the British Pacific Fleet-including destroyers and corvettes of the Royal Australian Navy-was operating with the U.S. Third and Fifth Fleets. "This potent addition to the Allied naval power in the Far East," wrote Fleet-Admiral King in his Second Official Report, "has been placed under the operational control of the Commander in Chief, United States Fleet, and will work side by side with our armed forces in the common effort against the Japanese."

On 12th April the Allied cause suffered a heavy loss in the death of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, President of the United States. He was succeeded as President by Mr. Harry Truman.

May 1945 saw the final collapse of Germany. Resistance had been crumbling for some time, area after area surrendering as, on all fronts, the Allied armies smashed their way into the Reich. The Russians established headquarters in Berlin on the 23rd April, the eastern and western Allies linking up in central Germany three days later. The battle for the German capital lasted for some days. Hitler's death-with that of Goebbels and his wife and family-was reported on the 2nd May, and the final surrender of Nazi Germany was announced on the 8th May.

With the elimination of Germany, the war against Japan was prosecuted with mounting strength. The Allied assault on the Empire's inner defences had opened in February, with the U.S. landings on Iwo Jima on the 19th, the conquest of the island being assured by the end of the month and all organized resistance being ended by the 16th March.

The ist April saw a further step forward in the Pacific with the U.S. landings on Okinawa, in the Nansei Shoto chain of islands south of Japan. This operation, described by Fleet-Admiral King as "from many standpoints the most difficult ever undertaken by our forces in the Pacific", was completed, so far as organized enemy resistance was concerned, by the 21St June. The capture of Okinawa gave the Allies bomber fields only 350 miles distant from the Japanese industrial areas on Kyushu.

The British Pacific Fleet took part in the Okinawa operations. From the 26th March to the 2oth April, and from the 4th to the 25th May, the British carrier force was engaged in neutralizing enemy air installations on Sakishima Gunto, south-west of Okinawa. Battleships and cruisers of the force bombarded Miyako Jima with 'satisfactory results on the 4th May.

In May there began the operations against Borneo, where the landings were carried out by Australian forces, with U.S. and Australian naval and air support. The first operation was directed against Tarakan, H.M.A. ships participating being Hobart, Warramunga, Westralia, Manoora, Hawkesbury, Barcoo and Burdekin. This operation was followed, on the 9th June, by the A.I.F. landings in the Brunei Bay area. H.M.A.S. Hobart (wearing the broad pendant of Commodore Farncomb, C.B., D.S.O., M.V.O., R.A.N.) and H.M.A.S. Arunta were in the naval force commanded by Rear-Admiral R. S. Berkey providing cover for the landings, and carrying out preliminary bombardments, the three Australian landing ships (infantry) and H.M.A. Ships Lachlan, Barcoo, Hawkesbury and Glenelg also being employed in the operation.

On the 29th June, 1945, Admiral Sir Louis H. K. Hamilton, K.C.B., D.S.O. and Bar, succeeded Admiral Sir Guy Royle, K.C.B., C.M.G., as First Naval Member of the Australian Commonwealth Naval Board and Chief of the Naval Staff, on the expiration of Admiral Royle's term of duty and his return to the Royal Navy.

H.M.A.S. Shropshire, who had been south for a refit and had returned to the forward area, was flagship of the R.A.N. Squadron at the Balikpapan landings on the 1st July, taking part with H.M.A. Ships Hobart and Arunta in the pre-landing bombardments, and providing cover and fire support during the landing. Other R.A.N. ships present at this operation were the three landing ships (infantry) which had been at the major S.W.P.A. landings, and had built up a fine record of achievement, and H.M.A. Ships Gascoyne and Warrego, of the ubiquitous Survey Group, m.-hose work could not be too highly praised.

The Balikpapan operation completed Commodore Farncomb' s long record of sea service in the war. In command of H.M.A.S. Perth at the outbreak of hostilities, he was at sea with but few breaks throughout the entire period of the war, commanding in turn H.M.A. Ships Perth, Canberra, Australia (in which he took part in the Coral Sea Battle and the Solomon Islands landings in 1942, being awarded the D.S.O. for his part in this operation) and the British aircraft carrier H.M.S. Attacker, previous to his appointment as Commodore Commanding His Majesty's Royal Australian Naval Squadron in December 1944.

During his period in command of the Squadron at major operations he flew his broad pendant at the Philippines in the assault on Luzon (for his part in which he was awarded the C.B.) and at Corregidor, and in the various Borneo operations. Now appointed Commodore Superintendent of Training at Flinders Naval Depot, his broad pendant was struck in H.M.A.S. Shropshire at sunset on the 22nd July, 1945. At the same time the broad pendant of Commodore J. A. Collins, C.B., R.A.N., now happily recovered from the injuries he had suffered at Leyte, was transferred from H.M.A.S. Warramunga (having been hoisted in that ship at o8oo on the 22nd July) to H.M.A.S. Shropshire.

H.M.A.S. Bataan, the new Australian-built Tribal class destroyer, who had been placed under the administrative and operational control of Commodore Commanding H.M. Australian Squadron on the 27th June, 1945, arrived in the forward area mid-July.

The war against Japan was now marching to its conclusion with increasing tempo. July saw the opening of the Allied naval assault on the Japanese home islands, an assault carried out, in a mounting wave of naval-air and artillery bombardments, by the greatest implement of sea power ever assembled. The initial air strikes by this mighty armada against airfields and industrial plants in the Tokyo area were made on the 10th July, and from that date the attacks increased in weight and frequency. On the 7th July took place the first combined American-British bombardment of the Japanese homeland, when battleships fired 2,000 tons of shells into the coastal area north-east of Tokyo, encountering no enemy opposition during the operation. Many combined American-British air strikes and bombardments followed.

Overseas, the results of the British general election, announced on the 27th July, elevated the Labour party to the Government benches, with Mr. Atlee as Prime Minister, thus displacing Mr. Churchill from his position as the great war-time leader of Britain. This however, naturally made no difference to Britain's prosecution of the war, the new Government standing firmly behind the surrender ultimatum issued to Japan from the Potsdam Conference on behalf of Britain, America and China, on that same day.

This ultimatum - Surrender or be utterly destroyed - was rejected by the Japanese Government, and on the 6th August a new and devastating war weapon was used against the Japanese homeland with the dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima. This was followed by the dropping of the second bomb on Nagasaki on the 9th August, the day that Russia - who had denounced her Neutrality Pact with Japan on the 6th April, 1945 - declared war on that country.

It was obvious that the end of the war could not now be long delayed, and on the 15th August, 1945, Fleet-Admiral Nimitz ordered the "cease fire" to the Allied Navies in the Pacific, and at 9 a.m., Australian Eastern Standard time, the announcement of the Japanese surrender was made by leaders of the Allied nations.

The actual surrender ceremonies of the Japanese in the homeland and in outlying areas occurred at various dates during the following month, and at many of them the Royal Australian Navy was represented by ships and personnel, in some cases the ceremonies taking place on board H.M.A. ships.

In Tokyo Bay, where the main Japanese surrender was accepted by General MacArthur as Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, with representatives from the United Nations signing for their respective countries, on board U.S.S. Missouri at o9o8 on the 2nd September, 1945, the R.A.N. was represented by H.M.A. Ships Shropshire (wearing the broad pendant of Commodore J. A. Collins, C.B., R.A.N.), Hobart, Bataan, Warramunga, Nizam, Napier, Ipswich, Cessnock and Ballarat. Captain H. J. Buchanan, D.S.O., R.A.N. (Captain D-7) had the honour of commanding the British Landing Force at Yokosuka Naval Dockyard.

Other ships of the R.A.N. concerned in Japanese surrender ceremonies were: at Rabaul on the 6th September, H.M.A. Ships Vendetta, Townsville, Kiama, Dubbo, and Lithgow; at South Bougainville on the 8th September, H.M.A.S. Diamantina; at South Borneo on the same day, H.M.A. Ships Burdekin, Gascoyne, Inverell and M.L.1359; at Kuching, Jesselton and Sandakan, on the 9th September, H.M.A. Ships Bundaberg, Kapunda, M.L.1343, Black Snake, River Snake, Wanganella, and A.Ms 1629, 1499, 1983 and 198~; at Timor on the 11th September, H.M.A. Ships Moresby, Benalla, Echuca, Horsham, Katoomba, Parkes, Kangaroo, Bombo, and M.Ly 1322, 1324, and 1329; and at Nauru on the 14th September, H.M.A.S. Diamantina.

This narrative, so far as these "H.M.A.S." books are concerned, opened in the first volume, "H.M.A.S.", with the words: "At 215o Eastern Australian time on Sunday, September 3, 1939, the frontiers of war were brought to Australia's coastline. At that hour Navy Office, Melbourne, received the Imperial War telegram 'Total Germany repeat total Germany'." At 0900, Australian Eastern Standard time on Wednesday, the '5th August, 1945, the announcement of the surrender of Japan, the last of the Axis nations to remain in the war, was made by the leaders of the Allied nations.

The war had lasted for six years all but nineteen days. During that period the Royal Australian Navy played a memorable part in contributing its quota of that sea power which made Allied victory possible. Its ships and men fought in every theatre of war. Not a day of the war passed but some of them somewhere were on the job. Alongside the ships and men of the parent Royal Navy and of their gallant Allies, they fought against heavy odds in the early and dark days of the war at sea, and triumphed through to the months when, with their own enhanced strength and the overpowering naval might of the mother country and their great American ally, victory was assured.

During the war the Royal Australian Navy reached maturity, with graduates of the R.A.N. College commanding the Squadron. During the war, also, it lost many fine officers and men, and some fine ships. Their loss, regretted by all, was in circumstances that add to the lustre of the record the R.A.N. has established. In the brief and inadequate outline set down in these volumes, that record speaks for itself.

CONVOY TO LEYTE

IN the early years of the war people were thrilled by the exploits of Allied convoys. Everyone read with interest of the convoys that fought their way across the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Their deeds were what could be termed in journalistic language "headline stuff". Without a doubt the passages of many of these convoys will go down in history as battles, as indeed they were. All credit to those gallant ships that smashed their way through to Malta, Murmansk and Halifax. Yet in singing their praises one is apt to forget, or minimize, the grim war in the Pacific. This is the story of a convoy to the central Philippines. It is chosen at random, in order to show that the Pacific convoys had their fair share of excitement.

We sailed from Hollandia at 1200on Thursday, the 9th November, 1944. Aboard our ship, H.M.A.S. Westralia, were almost the complete staff of the Headquarters of the United States Eighth Army. The Officer Commanding Troops, Lieutenant-Colonel Harris, had under him seventy-nine officers and 874 men. In our holds were 500 tons of equipment. It consisted of fifty vehicles, a lot of office equipment cased up, furniture, stoves, prefabricated huts, refrigerators, and all manner of other things carried by an Army Headquarters. Aboard us were the staff officers up to the rank of colonel. The generals and their A.D.Cs flew to our destination in Lieutenant General Eichelberger's private - Flying Fortress. Actually this was the most senior crowd of troops Westralia had ever carried. It is not
often a landing ship has to carry and land the men who run an army. Previously we had not even had a divisional headquarters on board, and an army can be, made up of thirty or more divisions.

On clearing Humboldt Bay we were told that the convoy was bound for Leyte. There were a number of landing ships, and we had an anti-submarine escort of a few U.S.N. destroyers. Our senior officer was Rear-Admiral Struble in the amphibious flagship Mount McKinley, and his second-in-command was Captain Jenkins, U.S.N., in the U.S.S. Crescent City. Rear-Admiral Struble had commanded us in the first assault on Leyte nineteen days earlier.

About 1100 on Friday, the 10th November, headquarters at Hollandia radioed that a Japanese fleet, which included cruisers and destroyers, was 135 1 miles north-west of us in the Sulu Sea. It was steering a course roughly north-east. Although this enemy force constituted no direct threat to us, being about forty-eight hours' steaming away for a fast ship, we were very interested in it as it was obviously on a converging course to ours. There were transports with it, so its apparent mission was either to evacuate or reinforce the Japanese garrison in north-western Leyte.

Thus we had the odd situation of two forces approaching Leyte from opposite sides. That was quite clear, but the cruisers and destroyers presented an element of doubt. Japanese ships have a habit of doing the most unexpected things in dark hours. On occasion the Allies had been caught napping because the wily Jap made big alterations of course and speed overnight. We did not want those cruisers and destroyers to sneak up the Surigao, Strait and meet us as we entered Leyte Gulf. A Jap task force had done just this seventeen days before. Fortunately it had ended up by receiving a severe mauling by Vice-Admiral Kincaid's Seventh Fleet.

We crossed the equator at 0345 on Friday. It was my thirteenth crossing of the Line, and I hoped it would not be unlucky for us. At 0900 on Sunday, the 12th, a number of ships from Morotai joined up with us, making our convoy now twenty-five landing ships of an average of 10,000 gross tons each. Aboard the ships were about 30,000 U-S troops and 14,000 tons of valuable war supplies. Among these troops was the U.S- 32nd Division, one of the two original divisions to arrive in Australia early in 1942.We had old friends in two of its combat regiments, the 126th and the 127th. Both of them fought in New Guinea, distinguishing themselves at Buna.

Comparing this convoy with one on the other side of the world raises some interesting points, and doubtless also some arguments. The steaming distance to reach Leyte was about 1,440 miles, which is the same as a Journey from Gibraltar to Crete, from Liverpool to Maderia, from London to the Azores or from Scotland to Murmansk. With the famous Malta convoys, the distance from Gibraltar to Malta is 980 miles, and from Alexandria to Malta 819 miles.

The Murmansk convoys had the intense cold of the far northern latitudes to contend with, but we had the stifling heat of the equatorial regions. Every day at sunset our ships were shut up tight in order not to show a chink of light at night, and the atmosphere inside was like that of a fully heated oven. In some parts of the ship it was impossible to sleep, and men went out on deck and slept there. In intense cold you can wrap yourself up indoors and have a fair chance of keeping warm. It is well nigh impossible to keep cool inside a ship in the tropics.

As our voyage progressed and we got within range of enemy aircraft, we had to forbid men sleeping all over the decks as they blocked the passages to guns and control positions. The men on watch outside were the best off, as they reaped the benefit of the slight breeze produced by the ship's motion. 0f course the men on watch outside in the northern convoys would be the worst off, as they would be exposed to the bitter cold.

At 1500 on Sunday, the 12th, we received the news of an Allied victory in the Sulu Sea. Half a dozen destroyers and four transports of the enemy force sighted on Friday had been sunk and thousands of Japanese soldiers drowned. Naturally these tidings were heard with some joy in our convoy. At this time we were 320 miles east of Mindanao, having passed the Palau Group about noon. The next day being the 13th superstitious members of the ship's company began to spread rumours of misfortunes ahead. To add weight to their argument, we had thirteen Japs on board. They were American-born, and used as interpreters. The troops did not pay the slightest attention to them. We, however, simply could not grow accustomed to seeing them walking about the decks.

By 1100 on Monday we were 107 miles east of the northern tip of Mindanao. It was about this time that we went to action stations, and the convoy closed in while three or four Jap twin-engined bombers of the Sally class viewed us at a distance. They showed no desire to attack us. Unfortunately we could not prevent them having a very good look at us. At noon they went away. Now we were for it, we thought. We thought we were almost certain to be attacked in force that afternoon, and prepared accordingly.

All afternoon we kept a good lookout. Some fleecy clouds overhead lent themselves admirably to Jap hit-and-run dives that we knew so well. At 1530 our warning devices detected enemy aircraft around us, and we went to action stations. Altogether there were fifteen enemy aircraft in the vicinity. Four of them seemed interested in us. The remainder attacked another of our convoys astern of us. It was not until 1700 that the Jap showed his hand. Almost on the hour, an enemy twin engined torpedo bomber of the Jill class dived at the convoy. Every ship whose guns could bear fired at him, yet he somehow got through the terrific barrage and dived low amongst the ships. Most of the ships ceased firing for fear of hitting other ships in the convoy.

The Jap, now speeding diagonally through the convoy, made for the U.S.S. Catskill, a new type of invasion ship that looked very much like a cruiser. Slung underneath the plane was a large torpedo, which he released when a few hundred yards off his target. He then passed astern of the Catskill just above deck height, and fairly close. The American really let him have it with all guns that would bear, scoring hits on one engine and elsewhere. The Jap seemed to bank slightly, then suddenly crashed headlong into the sea. Cheers arose from the ships around. The torpedo missed its mark and passed through the convoy, surfacing occasionally. It passed about 1,400 yards astern of Westralia and a destroyer on the screen altered course to let it complete its run harmlessly to port of the convoy.

Excitement in the ships was now high. The score was one for none, and we waited patiently for the others to attack. Only that morning the senior officer had warned us to expect Jap aircraft to make suicide dives on us. This is a habit with Jap pilots. It looked as if this pilot, after firing his torpedo, had attempted to dive into the Catskill and missed.

We were still at action stations at 1800 when, blessed sight, we saw some Lightnings overhead. The Jap made no more attacks on us in daylight that day. At 1840 we secured action stations. Night closed down on us, and the hundreds of men inside each ship commenced their usual twelve hours of roasting. The senior officer ordered all ships carrying troops not to open fire at night in the event of air attack. Only the destroyers were thus !o reveal their positions, In the evening we braced ourselves for the air attacks which we felt certain would come.

Guns remained loaded, and men stood by them continuously. Those off duty were just turning in for the night when, at 2230, the klaxons called us to action stations again. The Japs were here once more. This time they had the darkness to hide them, and they knew our land-based fighters had grounded. They also knew that it was most unlikely that our carrier-borne fighters would venture up at night. We were at their mercy. Or so it seemed to us.

We remained at action stations on this occasion until 0400 on Tuesday, the 14th. Five and a half hours at our quarters. The Japs dropped flares over us during the night yet, fortunately for us, there was no moon and a lot of cloud and they apparently could not see us. No bombs were dropped. At 0400 we secured, and dropped down for a little sleep. But at 0530-action stations again. We were now in Leyte Gulf, and thought the enemy would be bound to attack us in the early light of day. Several great naval battles had been fought in this area only nineteen days earlier, when the Seventh Fleet and Admiral Halsey's aircraft carriers had defeated an enemy fleet from Malayan waters.

Keeping a sharp lookout in all directions, the convoy moved into San Pedro Bay. At 072o, when we were preparing our boats for lowering, the Japs made a determined attempt to get us. A flight of Oscar class fighter bombers came in from the west. One dived to attack Manoora, and in a few minutes was spinning down in flames. At 0738 it crashed into the bay less than 100 yards from our companion landing ship. Then our fighters swung into action. We watched a nice dogfight over the land. I really do not think the Jap knew much about it. The Lightning ran circles around him, and soon the Jap crashed, flaming, into Mount Guinhandang. Then two Tojo class fighter-bombers, Japan's latest, crossed our bows so close that we could see their metal glistening, in the sun's rays, and the red balls on the wing tips. Behind me I heard the gunnery officer cry out excitedly, "They're Tojos."

We fired, but missed. Other ships fired. The Japs flew lower, and started to hover on our port bow at a distance of several miles.

"They are going to dive," someone near me shouted.

"Watch them," said the captain calmly.

The Japs, however, did not like the look of our barrage and fighters and turned away. As they disappeared over Leyte, smoke was issuing from one of them. Eight enemy air craft were brought down in the vicinity during the morning. We anchored at 0758 one mile east of the town of Tanauan, in a position eight miles south of Tacloban. The northern assault had taken place near here on A-day.

With one eye on the sky and the other on the work at hand we landed our troops and started to discharge their equipment. Some of the troops in the convoy were in the front line eight days later in the Ormoc area. There were 140 other Allied ships in the bay, and most of them were discharging troops or equipment over a length of beach extending from Tanauan to San Ricardo. General MacArthur badly needed these men and supplies. By 16oo we had completed discharging in Westralia. The A.I.F. detachment in our complement did their usual splendid job during the unloading.

At i8oo the force weighed anchor and headed for the open Pacific. Overhead, silver Lightnings, soaring like graceful gulls, escorted us. We were ready for anything that night, yet the Jap left us alone. The only aircraft we saw on the return journey were Hellcats, although Japs were occasionally detected at a great distance. A few Douglas transports flew over us carrying key men and valuable supplies to Leyte. At 1700 on Thursday, the 16th, we passed another convoy bound for Leyte.

On Friday, the '7th, our aircraft reported they had located a Jap force of ten ships in Sarangani Bay in southern Mindanao. This force, which included cruisers, was 628 miles due west of us and 70 miles south-south-west of Davao. It did not venture forth, however. And it said a great deal for Allied sea and air supremacy that with at least three large Allied convoys off the eastern Philippines this strong enemy task force deemed it prudent not to attack any of them. Our convoy alone comprised nineteen medium sized ships with an anti-submarine screen of five destroyers. None of us had guns above six inches in calibre. We would have been a lovely "bag" for a cruiser force.

We arrived back in Hollandia at 0700 on Sunday, the 19th November, having suffered no losses or casualties by enemy action. It had been a voyage of fluctuating excitement. Altogether we had steamed a distance of about 2,880 miles, equal to a convoy from Glasgow to Boston, from Liverpool to Montreal or from Plymouth to Malta. We had visited the Philippines at the height of the typhoon season.

Our luck held, for six days after we left San Pedro Bay, Leyte was struck by a typhoon and fighting on land was practically suspended. It is true that we had no Bismarck or Tirpitz to sneak out at us from a Norwegian fiord, no "wolf packs" of U-boats lying in wait for us west of Ireland, nor any Stukas to pounce on us from Pantellaria or Sicily. Yet we had managed to see some excitement during our convoy to Leyte, and ours was only one of many. Other convoys were fortunate enough to have even more excitement.

The return voyage had, of course, been easier than the outward. Northward bound, we had fifteen hundred people on board, and when your decks are crowded with barges that is a lot of people. Most of the troops wanted to play cards or sunbake, thus occupying every spare foot of deck space. Then they had to be exercised at various drills, such as "abandon ship", and disembarkation. And not once, but two or three times at least. This was usually my job. It meant that the loudspeakers were blaring (in my unmusical voice) orders all day and often far into the evening.

Yet our sailors took it all philosophically. Sometimes you would hear remarks such as, "These - - - troops." But not often. Their great moment of ecstasy came when the torpedo bomber crashed into the sea in full view of everyone on our upper decks. Their cheering must have been heard for several miles. It gave them something to talk about later, as did the dogfights over Leyte, the crashing Oscar, and the deadly Tojos hovering, off our bow on that busy Tuesday.

The most strenuous period had been the day before our arrival, and the day in San Pedro Bay. In a period of twenty-four hours we had been closed up at our quarters for eighteen hours, and standing by to do so during the remaining six. Still, everyone aboard enjoyed himself. As a seaman in a gun's crew remarked to his "winger" when the Jill crashed, "Boy, it was worth while missing my tea to see that." An interesting fact is that whilst in San Pedro Bay we were 666 nautical miles north of the equator, the farthest north a British warship had ventured in the western Pacific since Japan's entry into the war three years previously.

"Amphibian"

THE FLYING SEAMAN

THE albatross had been with Jonesy since he commenced his trick as masthead lookout. It was a clear, mild, tropic day with the sea like a billiard table and the air cool and caressing. Jonesy shifted his position slightly and took another look round the horizon before gazing somewhat distastefully at the huge bird that glided effortlessly almost within arm's length. It cocked a sardonic eye at him, executed a brief dive and floated back to its old position on an obliging current.

Jonesy circled the horizon again and for good measure studied the blue skies above him; then he looked at the albatross. "Crikey" he thought, "must be all right to be able to fly like that. Wish I could do it - in fact, I reckon I could." As if to show him how easy it was, the bird dipped gracefully down to the sea, skimmed along the surface, then rose in a steep climb that carried it back to Jonesy. The masthead quivered slightly as Curly, Jonesy's relief, commenced his climb to the crow's-nest.

Curly's nose drew level with the edge. "Anythin' doin'?" he asked cheerfully.

Jonesy turned over the trick rather absently, his mind still on the albatross, which was giving a stirring display of aero-gymnastics on the starboard beam.

"Well, bye-bye, sweetheart," said Curly as Jonesy clambered out, then his eyes popped out like organ-stops. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" he cried in alarm.

Jonesy, his face wearing a dreamy expression, stood balanced precariously on the edge of the crow's-nest and, with arms outstretched, took off.

"Holy Pete!" screamed Curly, his fascinated gaze following the body as it fell.

With a swish and a thud, Jonesy landed on the compass platform before the startled officer of the watch.

"Masthead lookout relieved, sir. Nothing in sight," he said vacantly and slid down the ladder.

"I don't believe it," said the O.O.D. with conviction, and checked up on his course.

Meanwhile Curly was still recovering from the shock. He was shaking like a leaf, his face was putty-coloured, and he regarded the expressionless face of the albatross with horror - or was it leering at him.

"Masthead lookout, forebridge," he screeched desperately into the voicepipe.

Forebridge replied, "Yes, what is it?"

"Sir, sir, Jones sir, he flew," dithered Curly, almost in tears. "Sir, he glided from up here to down there. He flew, sir, he flew, and I saw him do it."

The O.O.W. listened in a welter of emotions, his mind chugging back to what had happened a few minutes before. Then, with true naval thoroughness, he entered it in the log, and called down for the captain.

This was the corvette HMAS Redfern. She was on an important mission along with two other corvettes. During the fierce fighting in Borneo a small party of Japanese had been cut off and was occupying a position naturally fortified on the coast. It was surmised that within a very short time a rescue ship would make an attempt to get some of them off as it was known that Colonel Yitsiwatsa, a kingpin in the army of Nippon, was among them. The Redfern and her two sisters were to be on the scene to see that this attempt was frustrated and also to take the colonel prisoner if humanly possible.

Meanwhile, there were more pressing matter on hand. The signal staff was hard at work and the following signal made to the senior officer: "Have discovered a flying seaman ship's company. Request instructions."

The senior officer looked at the signal, regarded the signalman with a fishy eye, and said. "Ask for a repetition of the word before "seaman".

"It's 'flying', sir. 'Flying seaman'."

"All right, signalman. I'll believe you this time"

Make to Redfern, 'Suggest demonstration immediately'."

A few minutes later, a khaki-clad figure took off from the masthead of the Redfern and after a preliminary circle, glided over the water to the S.O.

Jonesy, now recovered from his first amazement, was enjoying himself immensely, and as he floated through the tranquil air, burst into gay little trills of song. He climbed to about 500 feet, then dived gracefully down to the bridge of the S.O.'s ship. Jonesy banked around the bridge, said "Hullo" to one of his old classmates who stood in frozen horror on the fo'c'sle, then, dipping his arms in salute, headed for the Redfern.

His captain was triumphant. "Now perhaps he will believe me," he said to Number One, who stood beside him.

The S.O. believed him all right, but only after he had pinched himself severely. From then on signals flashed to and fro between the two ships, and by nightfall everything was settled. The original carefully laid plans had been scrapped, and Able Seaman Jones was to be the star of the forthcoming operations.

At dawn the following morning, the three corvettes stood off the point where the small Japanese force was concealed. Jonesy, dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, water-bottle, binoculars and portable R/T set, was ready to take the air. He knew his instructions by heart, but although he smiled nonchalantly he felt far from happy. As an afterthought the gunner's mate handed him a small haversack containing six grenades with the remark that he might find them useful. He was to circle the enemy position and then from a safe height, direct the fall of shot by radio-telephony.

This time he decided to take off from the lower yard straight into the wind. He was heavily weighted with equipment and the sea boat's crew stood by to fish him out should his flight end in disaster. The captain was enjoying every moment, and with a glance at the deck-watch asked breezily, "Ready, Jones? "

"Ready, sir," said Jonesy and flung a silent prayer heavenwards.

"Take off," ordered the Old Man, and stood clear.

Jonesy stretched out his arms rigidly from his sides, took a deep breath and jumped. He dived steeply and for an instant it seemed that he would vanish into the sea. But Jonesy had the situation well in hand and pulled out Just in time leaving a wisp of foam where his body had touched the water. Too much weight, he thought, and jettisoned his water bottle. That wasn't very much but it helped, and taking advantage of every air current, he climbed slowly to 500 feet before setting his course for the point of land about two miles away.

He proceeded leisurely at first, revelling in the caress of the morning breeze on his face. Far below him the three corvettes cruised slowly in single line ahead with guns trained on the target. His altitude gave him a command of the ocean for many miles and he scanned the sea carefully through his binoculars. The glasses passed it the first time, but switched back for another look. Yes, there it was. Close inshore and hidden from the corvettes by the jutting point, a small vessel was making its way cautiously up the coast. Probably the rescue ship and not more than 200 tons, thought Jonesy. Switching on his R/T set and adjusting the earphones, he reported it to the S.O. and smiled happily as he saw the rearmost corvette suddenly turn away and increase speed to intercept.

Very soon he was over the area. There was no flak, which meant he had not been seen. Far below was a small clearing in the jungle, and in the centre, what appeared to be a bamboo hut. Several small figures were moving around, one apparently giving orders. It passed through Jonesy's mind that this was probably the colonel. He gave a range through the microphone and climbed another 100 feet for safety. As he circled, the first salvo landed slightly to the right and two hundred yards ahead of the target. Jonesy made a swift calculation and radioed alterations.

Below him, things were moving fast. Little yellow figures were running around in the clearing and the one that Jonesy took to be the colonel was giving rapid orders with many gesticulations. The second salvo landed on the edge of the clearing. "Bull's-eye," screamed Jonesy, and the shells started to land thick and fast. Suddenly he espied a movement in the fringe of the jungle and made out the staggering form of a man moving with difficulty through the undergrowth.

Jonesy decided to take a chance, and dived steeply toward the green carpet beneath him. He pulled out at treetop level and looked more closely. If the sword and uniform were any indication, this Jap, with the blood streaming from a gash in his head, was none other than Colonel Yitsiwatsa, endeavouring to make a get-away. Jonesy planed lower until he was hovering over the dazed and panting man's head, then, with a neat over-arm movement, he brought the binoculars crashing down on the closely-shaven skull. The Jap folded up like a pricked balloon. With the strap from the binoculars and torn strips from the colonel's clothing, Jonesy lashed him UPI souvenired the sword, made a note of the position, and took off from a convenient tree.

The clearing was a shambles. Bodies lay in grotesque attitudes, and few had survived the deadly-accurate shelling. But there must have been some alive still because all of a sudden a stream of tracer shot up at Jonesy. At the first vicious whine, he jumped and then took swift avoiding action. In tight circles that confused the woodpecker gunners, he took a quick sight and let go his six grenades one after another. The machine gun stopped abruptly.

One more look, and Jonesy was in contact with the S.O. He reported that all opposition had ceased and gave the position of Colonel Yitsiwatsa. A landing party was proceeding ashore and would take him and any survivors prisoners.

"Well, that's that," thought Jonesy, and headed for the Redfern. He detoured sufficiently to see what had happened to the would be rescue vessel. Only wreckage remained, the water was covered with floating woodwork and swimming Nips, and a whaler was picking them up at gun-point.

"A good day's work all round," he said to a passing seagull and made for home.

Well, there's not much to tell after that. The right people were decorated, and it was a toss-up whether Jonesy would receive a Distinguished Flying Medal or the D.C.M. In the end they gave him a marksman's badge, an Admiralty "hook", twenty-four days' leave and a draft to his home depot, which suited Jonesy better. He's now on the hush-hush list of secret weapons and is likely to receive a commission in the Fleet Air Arm, which only goes to show that the atomic bomb isn't so marvellous after all.

"WARWICK"