Arctic medal claim to be heard in parliament.

[Captain Kong]

I have just been watching on BBC TV PARLIAMENT, CHANNEL 81, from 0900 to 0930, the debate on Arctic Convoy Medals with that Despicable Ponce, Robatham, He is more nauseus live than in the papers, a disgusting lout.
He was asked why if the Russians can give a medal then why cannot this Government, He replied that Russian Generals have a Chest full of Medals and we do not do that sort of thing in Britain.
He looked and sounded EVIL.

You may be able to get the Debate on the repeat s . dont know how to do that.
Cheers
Brian.

[Keith at Tregenna]

Hi Keith - I did have a poem printed in the Daily Mail letter page a couple of weeks ago about the Russian convoy men wearing white berries.

The following is an old one from my first book but it seems topical re: the Arctic medals etc - (that why I sent the first one in) - so am trying again - cheers for now - hope you are well - Joe.


WE MADE IT KID


It was the world’s worst journey across the Barents Sea,

In a scattered Russian convoy, named PQ One and Three;

Off the coast of Norway and round it’s Northern Cape,

Braving hidden U-boats and the Junkers Eighty- Eight.


A torpedo struck the hold, bearing tons of coiled barbed wire,

Over aviation spirit - which exploded into fire;

Ordered to our stations, primed to abandon ship,

Struggling, taking crew off - the fire had forged a grip.


One man emerged from through it - he was all aflame,

Jacket, face, ears and hair, I didn't know his name:

His feet and hands were tattered as he fought to save his neck,

Over red-hot cargo that had blown up to the deck.


We pitched him in the lifeboat where we beat him out,

Then cast off from our vessel as there was no doubt -

The ship was doomed and sinking, rolling on her side,

Since another tin fish took its mortal ride.


Four days then we spent adrift, in appalling weather,

This winter in the Arctic freezing all together:

The man just sat upon a thwart in ghastly awful pain

Sheer open to the elements but never did complain.


He may have been Canadian or perhaps a Yank

(It’s difficult to have a chat with a gale upon your flank):

But he helped to pull along by leaning on his arms,

His hands had swollen treble - he couldn't use his palms.


The only thing he asked for, in those horrendous days afloat,

Was “Can you hold a fag for me, if I burn a smoke?”

Then came at dusk a rescue by a Russian fishing smack,

Who hauled us to a shelter in Murmansk’s cul-de-sac.


He looked at me through frozen eyes, most of him was rigid,

But he cracked his face and from his mouth I heard “We made it kid,”

Next day in the refuge I was summoned to his bed,

Where this courageous seaman, was laying there quite dead.


I do not know the history of this man I hardly knew

For he was picked up previously from another crew:

Years later on enquiring - his name may be O'Brien,

But I'll not forget such dignity and his courage of a lion.

Captain J.S.Earl M.N.M.

==================================

On 30th. March 1942, the S.S. Induna (part of convoy PQ13 which was scattered by severe storms) was sunk by two torpedoes from the U-376. The S.S. Induna had previously picked up men from the whale ship Silja and the S.S. Ballot. The doomed seaman is believed to be off the S.S.Ballot which had sailed from New York under the Panamanian flag and joined the convoy from Iceland. She was then attacked by dive bombers and lost steam. Sixteen men were transferred to the S.S. Induna.

The above story is from a report by a crew member of the S.S.Induna who survived the war. There is a grave in Murmansk with the name O’Brien but no ship is mentioned. Ironically both the Silja and the Ballot - though casualties, eventually made it to Murmansk

Captain J.S.Earl M.N.M.



WHITE BERETS

They wear the berets of white, my friend’s,
they wear the berets of white,
For they sailed on Russian convoys, wondering day and night
If they’d reach their destination in Murmansk further north,
Chancing Hitler’s bombers or submarines sent forth.

Hauling vital cargoes men were sorely tried,
Carrying on regardless though many went and died,
Seventy-eight, the convoys that counted up the cost,
As there and back they lumbered, many ships were lost.

The wind would howl and shriek round ice upon the yard,
In fog, snow and violent storms, life was pretty hard,
Plodding on laboriously, guarding round the clock,
Sleepless nights and piping cold until they reached the dock.

They risked their lives steadfastly, in dreadful bitter climes,
Long ago, but veterans recall those vivid times.
That’s why, my friends, I mention it, for they have earned the right -
To proudly wear a beret in the shade of Arctic white.

Captain J.S.Earl M.N.M.

[Brenda Shackleton]

My Dad ( CAPT.W.J.HARTLEY Rescue Ships ' Copeland' and ' Goodwin' ) was awarded the Atlantic Star for Convoys in the Atlantic and Arctic. The one medal was supposed to cover both. mmmmm. Since when was the Arctic ever part of the Atlantic? Among other comments I have also pointed this out to the Rt. Hon. A. Robatham - just in case he did not get a GCSE in Geography..... Regards Bren Sh.

[DeepSea]

Fresh hope for Arctic Convoy heroes

Medal hopes rise for last heroes of the Arctic convoys | Mail Online