Tanker Man

Brian Taylor

Description

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.

Sujets

• World War II
• Adventure
• Spies
• Fiction
• Action

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse UK
• Date de parution: 24 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823081696
• Langue: English

Extrait

TANKER MAN
 
 
 
 
BRIAN TAYLOR
 
 
 
 

 
 
AuthorHouse™ UK
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: UK TFN: 0800 0148641 (Toll Free inside the UK)             UK Local: (02) 0369 56322 ([phone] from outside the UK)
 
 
 
 
© 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

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 McIn tyre .
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,