This Blood Red Sea

By Anthony Hulse

The biography of Ronald Burns, who served as a Royal Navy DEMS gunner aboard merchant ships during WWII. His first ship, SS Empire Drum was torpedoed in the Atlantic and he and his fellow shipmates spent thirteen days adrift in a lifeboat. Shortly after being rescued, he served aboard rescue ship, SS Rathlin, which sailed with the infamous convoy, PQ17 to Russia. What Ron witnessed was carnage and devastation beyond belief. This is his story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781291713947

Book preview

This Blood Red Sea

This Blood Red Sea

by

Anthony Hulse

Copyright@ Anthony Hulse 2011

ISBN: 978-1-291-71394-7

All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the author, except for the quotations in a review.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to Mike Kemble (www.mikekemble.com)

http://www.secondworldwar.org.com/

This book is dedicated to all the allied and British servicemen past and present, who fought in the bloody conflicts. A special mention for the merchant seamen, who risked their lives during WWII with little recognition of their heroic exploits.

Finally, this book is also dedicated to Dorothy, the loving and late wife of Ronald Burns. How she must be proud of her husband. RIP Dorothy.

Introduction

Word reached me in my local social club that Ron Burns was yearning to write his life story, but was unsure how to go about it. Ron who? I asked? When my friend described this remarkable man, I then recalled reading about his wartime heroics in the local gazette. I was not a close acquaintance of Ron’s, but occasionally exchanged the odd greeting as we passed. I did recall his love of rum; a pleasure he was still partaking in since his days in the Royal Navy during WWII.  

It was mentioned that he was trying to contact me, and so we sat for the first time and talked over a glass of rum. At the time of meeting Ron, I notified him that I was a writer of thrillers and had never before written a biography. In fact, I knew absolutely nothing about ships. My last voyage aboard a ramshackle Greek ferry in Crete put me off sailing forever.

After a prolonged conversation, in which he relayed to me some remarkable experiences, I agreed to write his story. While at first reluctant to undertake such an experimental task, this mesmerising man, at the grand age of eight-six had won me over.

He proudly showed off his photographs of his now sadly departed wife, Dorothy, and his two daughters and son, Maurine, Jacqueline and Ronald. He then talked to me about the death of his parents, John and Eliza Jane, who sadly died in their eighties.

I learnt of how at the age of nineteen, after enlisting in the Royal Navy, he travelled to North Wales for his basic training, before becoming a DEMS gunner.(Defence Equipped Merchant Ships.)

After joining Merchant Navy ship, the Empire Drum in Scotland, the vessel was torpedoed and sunk, 24th April 1942, approximately 400 miles north of Bermuda. This was Ron’s first ever voyage, and he and his fellow crewmen endured thirteen days in a lifeboat in the Atlantic before being rescued.

Remarkably, two months later, Ron was drafted aboard rescue ship, SS Rathlin in Scotland, and they sailed with the ill-fated and notorious PQ17 convoy to Russia. 

Being unfamiliar with World War II naval warfare, I had to rely on extensive research, in order to write a factual account of the history behind the brave men and women who fought such a bloody war.

Naturally, Ron’s recollection of some of the names, dates and order of events had abandoned him after almost seventy years, and so we put together his story gradually, ship by ship. He possessed a vast array of newspaper clippings, books, photographs and valuable memorabilia that helped in the compiling of this book. His diary, which he kept whilst serving aboard the SS Steaua Romana was most valuable and revealing. 

As I researched, I realised there were several versions of events, such as which rescue ship proudly held the record for picking up the most survivors in this conflict. Who was really responsible for downing the German plane that attacked the doomed PQ17 convoy?

This book would never be without the participation of Ron Burns, and so I will tell his story in his words. Of course, it was necessary to blend his story with factual episodes of the war, and so several accounts of heroism have been added. Ron was deservedly awarded the Atlantic Star, the British Campaign medal and equivalent awards from allied countries. Many years later, the Russians honoured him with a medal. 

I am guilty as many others are of neglecting our war heroes. I was ignorant of historical battles, and only now do I fully appreciate the suffering and sacrifices that these men and women made. This is their story.

Chapter One

HMS Glendower

Born on 9th August, 1921 in South Bank, a suburb of industrial Middlesbrough, Ronald Burns worked as a rivet catcher at Smiths Dock after leaving school. Ron was exempt from military service, due to the Essential Works Order, but with the knowledge that his friends had enlisted in the Royal Navy, it played heavily on his mind. He appreciated that his work in the dockyard contributed to the war effort, but this was not enough for the impatient, eager, young man.

Being street wise like most of the other youngsters in South Bank, Ron certainly knew how to handle himself, even though he was slight in stature. Street fighting was rife on the close-knit estate, and this unnecessary aggression would no doubt prime the youths for the inevitability of war.  

After Neville Chamberlain resigned as Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, the new leader made a stirring speech, which could not have failed to stimulate the nation. He addressed his audience in the House of Commons.

We are in the preliminary stages of one of the greatest battles in history. That we are in action at many points in Norway and in Holland… That we have to be prepared in the Mediterranean. That the air battle is continuous, and that many preparations have to be made here at home. I would say to the House as I said to those who joined the government. I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggling and of suffering. You ask what is our aim? I can answer in one word. Victory! Victory at all costs… Victory in spite of terror… victory however long the road may be, for without victory there is no survival.

Ron vented his aggression inside the boxing ring in the Station Hotel, South Bank, where he discovered he had a talent for the sport. Danny Ireland, a brother to world champion, Jimmy, trained the tough youngsters in the art of boxing, a passion that would remain with Ron during his days in the navy. 

In 1940, at the age of nineteen, he made the decision to emulate his friends, Lenny Robson and Bunny, and applied to join the Royal Navy. His older brother, Charles would also abandon his employment in the steelworks, to join the Royal Navy some time later. The decision to become a sailor was not taken because his grandfather was an old sea dog, but to hopefully fight the Germans in the company of comrades who he knew so well. Alas, this was not to be. During his service, he obviously made a host of new friends, most of them who he can no longer recall their names. And so it was that he never had the pleasure to serve aboard a ship with his old pals from South Bank.

After passing the thorough medical examination, he at last received his call-up papers. He was to travel by train to Pwllheli, North Wales and join the HMS Glendower. Contrary to its name, HMS Glendower was not a training ship, but a Royal Navy base that trained gunners to man merchant ships. These ships were known as DEMS, (Defence Equipped Merchant Ships.)

The names of DEMS gunners who happened to be assigned to a merchant ship appear on the ship’s articles, but they were not classed as merchant seamen. If in the event of his death, the gunner’s name would be attributed to his Royal Navy training base.

Justifiably, merchant shipping was essential to the wartime effort, carrying food, raw materials, troops, ammunition or military equipment on their perilous voyages. The majority of these vessels at the outbreak of the conflict were originally built at the end of the first World War, but regardless of condition or age, they were utilised.  Many were hindered by their speed and would prove easy prey for the fleet U-Boats. It was reported that some ships used old telegraph poles mounted as guns to fool the enemy; such was the lack of adequate armament.

Merchant ships of allied governments were also pressed into service, operating under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of War Transport. A special mention has to be made to the brave merchant seamen who manned these ships; crews that included seamen as old as seventy, and raw teenagers as young as thirteen. Many of these crewmen came from various allied nations, a fact that seems to have been overlooked by the British government. Communication was an inevitable problem, with some of the foreign seamen unable to even master a few words of the English language. Nevertheless, every mariner, whatever his nationality or religion, contributed towards the ultimate victory and deserved recognition for their heroic efforts. Even today, the families of these gallant crewmen are striving justifiably, to call for the government to recognise their dauntless contributions with the British Campaign medal.

Lloyds of London in 1939 did set up a committee to find ways of honouring the seamen who performed acts of outstanding courage at sea, and eventually, five hundred and forty-one men were awarded various medals.

During World War II, some 50,000 merchant seamen lost their lives, of which 32,000 were British. This basically civilian force was known as the fourth arm of the armed forces, and during the conflict, crew members were trained to operate machine guns. One snippet of information that is not common knowledge is the fact that once a merchant vessel had been abandoned, the crew members instantaneously were taken off the payroll. In fact, on various occasions, merchant seamen after being sunk and occupying a lifeboat, ignored their immediate crisis and moaned incessantly about their livelihood, whilst watching their home disappear into the murky depths of the ocean. We owe so much to the brave servicemen, women and civilians, who in their quest for liberty received so little recognition.

******

It was a long, arduous journey to North Wales, the packed corridors of the train rendering the trip uncomfortable, and the sweet reek of Woodbines hovering in the airless carriages. Servicemen flirted with the women; the attraction of the uniforms proving alluring to the fairer sex. Some of the sombre faces of the younger soldiers registered nervousness, some of them preparing to fight overseas, having never before left the shores of Britain.

Having no in-train communication those days, people had to rely on the guard for information, and often for news of the war. People struggled to pass one another in the narrow corridors, apologising with a false smile, which hid so much misery as they went on their way. 

Ron travelled for much of the day, until he reached his destination. The mass of run-down, drab chalets that housed a Bullins holiday camp was to be his home for the foreseeable future.

He recalls that during the first week, he again was subjected to a thorough medical examination, where his young body was perforated, prodded and every orifice explored. The medical team were unsmiling, their treatment hasty and delivered without compassion. In fact, it seemed as if these white-coated physicians and nurses enjoyed their torturous examinations. Their faces remained impassive when ordering their subjects to drop their trousers and to cough; their intrusive eyes examining their genitals for any visible diseases.

Ten