WW2 Allied Ships sunk by the Japanese in the Far East & MN POW's taken.

[Harry Nicholson]

In 2020 I published Lt Mann's account of the sinking of ss Vyner Brooke in the Dutch East Indies, an event that led to the beach massacre of her crew and many of the Australian nurses who struggled ashore after they had escaped the Japanese at Singapore. They were slaughtered by the same Japanese unit that bayoneted doctors and patients in the hospital at Hong Kong.
Lt Mann was the uncle of a friend, John Pickard of Tees-side (a former second mate). John passed the manuscript to me. It revealed that, in 1952 Lt Mann wrote up his experiences of his astonishing escape through the swamps of Sumatra. I published them with an intro and closing by myself, using Lt Mann's title "One Jump Ahead', then sent the faded original typed foolscap manuscript for safe keeping in the archives of the Australian Memorial. I thought the story too important to be lost from sight.
The story is important to the history of Australia. Here is a section from chapter 4 of the book:


On each prior occasion of being attacked, we had been successful in evading the bombs by use of the helm. At anchor we would have to sit and do nothing. Captain Borton decided we would stand a better chance under way. At least we had a slight chance if able to manoeuvre. With anchor weighed, to the south we steamed. Southwards lay another group of islands which had a strait running through. We steamed to these and into the channel between them, hoping to gain concealment.
After we had got underway, I had been to my cabin and found, to my surprise, Marie was no longer in residence, even her suitcase had gone. I had too much on my mind to go through the hordes of people looking for her. There was no reason I should, if she had got herself fixed up elsewhere it was all well and good. I never learned why she took herself away.
We emerged from the southern end of the channel between the islands, by which time darkness was shutting down, and welcome it was too. Course was set for a group of islands called the Tujo, meaning seven in Malay. They were islands where we hoped to lie up during the following day. We steamed through the night without incident. It was still dark when we arrived at the Tujo group, so we waited until dawn and then crept in as close as possible and came to anchor.

14th February 1942. We officers were on the bridge during the forenoon, talking, and keeping a lookout. At 1100, with a deafening roar of engines, a plane swooped from over the island to starboard and over us. It looked like a Lockheed Hudson. It showed the red triangular markings of the Dutch under the wings and the R.A.F. roundel on the fuselage. This seemed strange to me. I told the captain I’d never heard of such dual markings. However, it circled the ship and signalled by light, 'What ship?' I told the signalman, a Malay, to make the challenge, which he did, but the aircraft replied with three letters whereas the replies should have been four letter groups. The aircraft again circled the ship and made, 'Name please?'
I asked the captain if I should tell him our name but, while he considered, the aircraft swooped across our bows with a machine-gun going full blast. He was not firing at the ship, but into the water across the bows. Having done so, he flew off without further ado.
He may have been an Allied aircraft warning us to get out of there, but if so, he could have told us without the mysterious goings on, as he must have seen the White Ensign. I have considered he may have been Japanese trying to get us into better position for attack, but if so he could have peppered the ship with his guns instead of the water. To this day, the incident remains a mystery.
However, the occasion caused the captain to get on the move again. We obviously were not hidden, and may as well be on our way taking risks, as take them at anchor. I don’t think anyone could argue with his decision. We weighed and steamed for the Bangka Strait that runs between the island of Bangka and Sumatra. It is a tortuous strait with a strong current running through. Several ships had been attacked by aircraft in the Bangka Strait. It had become known as 'Eastern Bomb Alley'. It made our only route to reach Batavia.
It was a lovely day. The blue sea lay calm, the sun shone in clear sky. The palm-covered island of Bangka spread itself ten miles away to port. We could discern a white, slender lighthouse ashore. All felt peaceful.

At 1330 in the afternoon watch, from the north came a group of six twin-engined aircraft. They appeared to be going to pass well ahead, and to ignore us. We hopefully thought they were ours, but as we watched, they swung round towards us, and came purposefully on. As they passed along the port side, the Red Japanese disc showed only too clearly on their wings. The alarm had been given on sighting them, and the guns were manned, all we could do was wait for it and hope. We steamed on.
The day after leaving Singapore a Leading Seaman of the Royal Navy had come to me and suggested as there were sufficient European service men aboard, it might be better to form them into a crew for the 4-inch gun. This I agreed to. It transpired we shipped odd naval ratings who had been told to get away from Singapore if they could find a vessel, and a lone Australian soldier whose presence remained a mystery. Later, when I viewed the list of the gun's crew, I noticed he had volunteered to make one at the gun. The Leading Seaman had detailed himself to the Lewis gun.
Just after the outbreak of war in the east, we had been supplied with four rounds of shrapnel shell for the 4-inch gun; these were the only time-fused shell on board, and only time-fused shell are any use against aircraft. The gun could be elevated to 17 degrees only, so unless the aircraft came low we had not a hope of doing damage. I believe the idea was defence against torpedo-carrying aircraft, which would come in low before dropping the weapon. There was the question of fuse-length to govern the moment of bursting. We carried no range tables but had been instructed to set the fuse to a given setting and leave it at that. It was a million to one chance the shell and the aircraft would arrive at the same place at the same moment. I suppose it was the best that the 'powers that be', in Singapore, could do. We had feeble hope from a total of four rounds.
The aircraft detached themselves into two groups of three. The leading three turned towards us and came in from for’ard, unlike the other attacks we had experienced, in which they always came in from astern. I think they must have realised they had nothing to fear from our 4-inch gun on the foc’sle. Not that they had much to fear from aft, either.
The captain performed his usual dodging act. Hard-a-starboard as the bombs came wiggling down, and, oh Jubilato! they fall clear. On over the ship went the three and circled for their next run in. The other three followed the first with the same result, and so it went on for five runs, each time the ship wriggling herself free.
The chief officer was below trying to keep up the morale of the passengers, and to stop them from coming on deck. I manned the bridge with the captain. The four-inch had fired twice, but whether or not the aircraft entered the gunlayer’s sights is uncertain. Possibly the report of the gun, with its feeble hope of hitting back, gave encouragement to the crew stuck out on the fo’csle. We had no visible result. The aircraft were undeterred, they came in just the same.
After the fifth salvo had missed us, I thought we would see it through. We had dodged them on every occasion and were doing it again; just a matter of carrying on with the game until they had no more bombs. I was soon disillusioned.
In they came from for’ard for the sixth time. Bombs on their way --- hard-a-port. The captain and I had our heads out of the bridge windows watching the bombs descend, but the ship wasn’t swinging fast enough. The bombs fell right before us, ten feet away in front of the bridge. They fell through the covers on No.2 hatch, then through the covers on No.2 ‘tween-deck hatch, to explode in the lower hold.
Captain Borton ordered me to the wireless cabin to get a signal off for immediate assistance. On opening the door of the wireless cabin I found the Malay navy Leading Telegraphist sitting in a corner looking scared --- not to be wondered at.
When told to get a message off he said, 'But look at the set, sir'.
I saw what he meant. The glass valves and bits and pieces were shattered. One did not need to be an expert to see no message could be sent from there.
I told him, 'All right, you get out and stand by a boat, it’s no good staying here.' I suppose he did, but I never saw him again. He was an exceptionally nice little chap, came from an influential Kuala Lumpur Malay family and, I suppose need not have been there at all, poor lad.
On going for’ard I saw clouds of smoke coming up from No.2 hatch. I dashed to run out a hose and direct it down the hatch. I ran out one length, but on testing, found the system dry. A nurse came to me and asked for first aid equipment saying there were many people badly injured down below. As we spoke, I heard the aircraft coming in again from for’ard and dragged her into a nearby cabin where we both laid on the deck to avoid flying glass. A stick of bombs fell close to the port side, so close that they shattered the bottoms of the port side boats as they hung in the davits. The cabin we lay in was part of the suite reserved in peacetime for the Rajah, Ranee, and the Dayangs of Sarawak. It was the Ranee's. I told the nurse she had better get to a boat as there would not be time to attend the injured. The ship was already taking a list to starboard.
I hurried to the bridge where the captain still stood. He called out to the starboard boat-deck to hurry and get the boats away; they were already being lowered. I noticed nothing was being done with the port boats, so got hold of the naval rating who had been at the wheel, the ship now being stopped. We began to lower the for’ard boat.
The rating called, 'The bottom's stove in, sir!'
He was right. 'No matter,' I said, 'The tanks may keep her afloat, at least people can hang on'. We lowered her into the water, and I sent him down the fall to unhook and push her off. I checked the other two boats on the port side. Their bottoms had been blown in.
On my return to the bridge, the captain said, 'You’d better get along, she won’t last much longer'.
'And you, sir?'
He responded, 'I’ll be coming, you get along.'
The three starboard boats had got clear of the ship's side and were packed with people. They were trying to get the oars out --- difficult with so little room to move. The water astern and off the port quarter was dotted with heads supported by Board of Trade lifejackets. As Vyner Brooke's list became more severe there seemed little object in staying.
I went aft and into the ‘tween decks by the baggage port. There I met the chief engineer --- he looked dazed. I urged him, 'You better get going, Chief'.
He said, 'I can’t swim a bloody stroke'.
I answered, 'Now’s your chance to learn; your life-jacket will keep you afloat, it’s no good staying here'.
He said, 'Here goes', and dropped out of the port baggage opening. I threw out lumps of timber and, having seen Captain Borton descend the ship's side by a jumping ladder, decided to follow.
The list to starboard grew to forty-five degrees. As I let go from the combing of the baggage port I actually slid down the side part of the way before hitting the water. I swam away from the ship to a reasonable distance, and came near to groups of others --- men and women. I didn’t see any children about, and assumed they had been taken into the three boats. The bottomless boat I had lowered was floating, full of people and water. There wasn’t an inch of space on the lifelines round her rubbing stake, so she did some good.
A woman on her own started screaming for her husband as though she had lost her reason. She obviously would drown if she went on like that. I swam over and tried to quieten her. Seeing the Leading Seaman near, I called him to help me get her to the waterlogged boat. He struggled towards me, but said, 'I’m wounded, sir'. Lifting his neck he disclosed a bloody hole in his throat. How he got it I don’t know, unless the Japs had machine-gunned us. However, he did help, and with one each side of her, we got the woman to the boat. Once she had hold of something, she seemed easier.
When we approached the boat, a few males hanging on the outside called out, 'No more room here'. They were quite right, there wasn’t. After I had told them I only wanted to put the woman there, they somehow made a space for her, and I swam away. For some reason I had no inclination to go into a boat from the time the ship was hit; I think it must have been the instinctive thought that with so many women and children there couldn’t possibly be room for me. I don’t pretend anything heroic. Actually I thought, as the whole affair must have been seen from Bangka, boats would come teeming out to pick us all up. How little we knew of the situation, for nothing came out. On looking around, I got hold of one of the lumps of timber I'd thrown out of the baggage port. I hung supported by it and my lifejacket, watching the scene.
I saw Captain Borton close by, he clung to a canvas bed which had poor buoyancy. He looked a bit shaky. Seizing an identical piece of wood to the piece I'd**held on to, I gave it to him. He refused it until I'd explained I would get the other. Once I'd recovered my own timber, we floated side by side to watch the ship. Captain Borton had been in command of her for several years; it must have been a sad moment for him when Vyner Brooke turned over.
He called out: 'There she goes'.
'Yes, that’s it, sir'.
She slid beneath.

......
He survived to become a beachmaster at the Anzio landings. I wish I had met the resourceful and heroic, Lt Mann. But it was an honour to be a friend of his nephew, John Pickard.

The title is on Amazon as "One Jump Ahead" by Lt. A J Mann.

[Cliff Phillips]

He was Des so dont know why the Unknown!??
Cheers

Barron, Charles L Ordinary Seaman R227743 Gloucester Castle 16.7.42 Unknown Japan


R227743 BARRON C L 01/05/1924 HULL

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Reference:	BT 372/333/83
Description:	R227743 BARRON C L 01/05/1924 HULL
Date:	1913-1972
Held by:	The National Archives, Kew
Former reference in its original department:	R227743
Legal status:	Public Record(s)
Closure status:	Open Document, Open Description

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Thanks for that, the details are being corrected from Unknown to Changi.

[Cliff Phillips]

Thank you Harry for the Vyner Brooke post. May I have your permission to share it with the FEPOW Family Group please.

[Cliff Phillips]

Here is Lou's Japanese POW Record Card (both sides) and a Newspaper cutting for you.

[Harry Nicholson]

Thank you Harry for the Vyner Brooke post. May I have your permission to share it with the FEPOW Family Group please.

Yes, Cliff. Please share it with that site. He would be pleased. An Image of ss Vyner Brooke

Vyner Brooke.jpg

Lt Mann's last Far East trip ended as he entered the Thames on a Brocklebank steamer on the day of the late Queen's coronation.

[Cliff Phillips]

The FEPOW Family data base for Lou Barron has been corrected to show him in the Singapore list as being held in Changi.

The correct link is: https://fepow-addendum.info/M_N_2.pdf

[Cliff Phillips]

Thank you Harry, much appreciated. I have it saved into a word document.
Thank you also for the Vyner Brooke photo. I was born on our late Queens 14th Birthday.
My father was in the Manchester Regiment, the wife and very young daughter of one of the Manchester Regiment men was on the Vyner Brooke, they survived but after being flown to Singapore she passed away. From my information in the Manchester Regiment forum:
3526951 Cpl. Alfred John Axon.
His wife Mrs Queenie Mary Axon, nee Danker (Identified on his POW Record Card as Mrs A J Axon) was interned with their daughter Patricia Ann aged 3 in Palembang Civilian Internment Camp Singapore. They had married in October 1940 in Johore Bahru, their best man was 3526949 Cpl William McClurg. Sadly Queenie Mary died on 28th September 1945 in Singapore. When liberated in 1945 Alfred and daughter Patricia Ann remained in Malaya residing at 44 Jalan Waterworks, Johore Bahru, Malaya. In 1963 Patricia married Bill Bagby, son of Sumatra internee Wally Bagby. (Information from A List of all the Internees – The Palembang and Muntok Internees of WW2).

[Harry Nicholson]

Hello Cliff; an absorbing story, and sad. I've been browsing the lists of survivors and see the repeated error in the reference to Lt Mann as radio officer. He was 2nd mate. Vyner Brooke had Malay operators. Lt Mann sailed with Blue Funnel after the war - and while out east was astonished to meet his old skipper, Captain Borton, who he last saw clinging to wreckage before drifting away from the site of the sinking.

I corresponded with Michael Pether of NZ in the preparation of 'One Jump Ahead' and was able to let him have sight of with Lt Mann's manuscript for the first time. Mann's book is here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/One-Jump-Ah.../dp/B087YLWP7S

[Doc Vernon]

The FEPOW Family data base for Lou Barron has been corrected to show him in the Singapore list as being held in Changi.

The correct link is: https://fepow-addendum.info/M_N_2.pdf

Thanks for this update Cliff!
Cheers