Commando Operations from Gibraltar (2)

 

On the 20^th November 1942, HM Submarine Ursula (N59) left Gibraltar in company with the - as yet un-named - Submarine P54 with the intention of wreaking havoc amongst His Majesty’s enemies. It was less than a fortnight after Operation Torch and the 10 submarines of the Eighth Flotilla, based at Gibraltar, had just returned to the Rock. Several of them had been employed in pre-assault surveillance and five had been positioned to lead in the forces landing on the beaches, so they were familiar with their role as underwater taxis for commandos. On this occasion, Ursula had shipped two SBS paddlers, Captain Richard Percy Livingstone and Sergeant Stam (Stamford) Weatherall, of 6 Commando.

 

                                                                                  

                                                                                                       HMS Ursula (N59)

 

HMS Ursula was given a special assignment. Her commander, Lieutenant RB ‘Lucky’ Lakin opened orders instructing his boat to: ‘To patrol the area to the south of France and the Gulf of Genoa and to make as much nuisance of herself as possible.’  Her purpose was to attract anti-submarine measures away from the escort of convoys to Tunisia.

 Ursula left harbour at 1130, almost immediately the klaxons sounded and she submerged to periscope depth. Once she reached the mouth of the bay, she submerged completely so as not to give information to enemy watchers, then headed east. As usual with wartime diesel electric submarines, she remained submerged by day, running on the surface to charge her batteries only at night. Five day later they reached the Gulf of Lyons and met rough sea conditions. The submarine rolled 55’ and on the night of the 26^th seawater scooped up by the conning tower, shot down the access and flooded the control room. One of the diesel engine’s big-end bearings failed and then the ASDIC, Sperry (Gyro) and wireless transmitter all gave up. The klaxons sounded and the boat then descended to 125 feet where it was still rough, rocking the boat severely. The engine room artificers got to work making, then fitting, new big-end bearings and the various other failed items were restored to service. Unknown to Ursula’s commander, their compatriot P54 had fared much worse from the same bad weather during the previous evening. Surfacing with her vents open, she slipped back to 30 feet whilst her commander Lieutenant Oxborrow and two ratings were on the bridge. They were washed overboard and drowned. P54 made her way back to Gibraltar, reaching here a few days later.    

 The following night the sea state was less, though rough enough to make some crew members seasick. Ursula made steady progress, zigzagging whilst maintaining a steady course to the Gulf of Genoa; they had a target in mind.

 

After a periscope reconnaissance on the 28^th a landing was made the following night. The sub was navigated by ASDIC to within 1200yds of a small beach near Ventimiglia, not far from the French border. At 2200 the commandos launched their canoe and paddled ashore, carrying their canoe across the sand and up to a 4 ft dirt wall beside a road. Immediately across the road stood a large house with lots of bushes and shrubbery in the garden, behind a pair of wrought iron gates secured with wire. They had to wait for half an hour whilst a courting couple stood kissing in the gateway. As soon as the couple were well up the road they cut the wire, entered the garden and hid their canoe amongst the shrubbery. The pair then crossed an orchard on a sloping hillside to locate the railway track, raised up on a 20ft embankment. They walked along the base for some time before crawling to the top and walking along the track towards their target; a tunnel.

 The commandos came upon a building with a verandha where they positioned themselves to listen to the voices inside, when suddenly a door opened and a man came out. Talking to his colleagues over his shoulder he relieved himself not realising that less then a yard away two knives were ready to despatch him should they be detected. This was the guardhouse for the tunnel; a largish detachment included sentries stationed above and around the tunnel mouth. Our men backed off the verandha to the bottom of the track, crawling along a hedgerow, before making their way back along the rails for a safe distance. Having found a suitable curve they placed charges on the rail positioned to blow a six foot gap. For good measure, they placed charges around the bottom of two iron pillars carrying the (3000 volt) feed cables supplying electricity for the railway engines. All charges were rigged to detonate simultaneously triggered by a pressure switch under the rail. It was now 2300 and time to return to the beach before moon rise at 2330 when the submarine would be forced to leave and return for them the next night.  Retrieving their canoe, they paddled back to the sub with no time to spare.

At about midnight, safely out at sea, the lookouts on the bridge observed a brilliant flash and reported a loud explosion resulting from the charges laid. The Gibraltar Chronicle subsequently reported that the Italian Blue Express Line had been blocked for several days. Had the commandos managed to access the tunnel, it could have been much longer. Importantly they had demonstrated their ability to strike anywhere, anytime, unseen.

 Ursula then began her return journey searching for more targets… and she wasn’t disappointed. The next night the sub cruised on the surface following the coastline and hunting for a victim. At 0145 on Monday 30^th a vessel was sighted and the sub’s crew went into action, firing shots across her bow to bring her to a halt. She turned out to be an Italian ASDIC schooner, looking for enemy submarines. Once approached, she was found to be completely abandoned; the Italian crew having taken to their dinghy when the first shots were fired. Capt. Livingstone & Stam boarded the schooner and placed HE charges amongst her depth charges on the stern. Meanwhile the sub’s crew ransacked the vessel bringing back two Breda guns, with ammo, two machine guns, rifles and the latest Italian charts which proved very useful for the Navy.

 

                                

                                                                 Italian, Breda, 8mm air cooled machine gun.

 

The 1 hour ‘L’ delay detonators (time-pencils) were set and the sub retreated to a safe distance while the ‘L’ delays did their job, setting off the HE charges which in turn blew up the depth charges. The explosion, when it came, was enormous, causing a huge black column of smoke to rise to about 300 feet.

 

       

    A little further down the coast Ursula was spotted by the enemy who fired off Very lights; the captain called diving stations and they crept away submerged.

 The following evening they waited close to the coastal railway, for a train to pass so they could ‘gun it’ (wartime vernacular). At 2230 a train was sighted and the gun crew went into action, first firing a star shell to light up the area. Then HE shells were fired which hit the train amidships. The rear half caught fire but the train’s driver hauled the remainder into a tunnel, where he very sensibly stayed until the attack was over. Before the war, ‘Lucky’ Lakin had been on holiday in the area and knew the location of an olive oil factory. At 0100 he brought the sub under the lea of a sea wall and trimmed her so that the boat’s gun pointed just over the top of it. First firing a star shell, the following shells hit the olive oil tanks, which caught fire, then a pillbox was hit and the factory chimney demolished. As Ursula crept away from the scene, the enemy opened fire; the nearest shell landing some 5o yards away, so they crash dived to safety, undamaged. One train and one factory was a fair tally for a night’s work.     

 The next evening, off the Isles de Hyeres, shortly after surfacing at 1830, a vessel was sighted heading east; the gun crew went into action. Several shots were fired and the vessel stopped and one Very light was fired from her. A torpedo was released which passed harmlessly beneath her keel as she was empty and high in the water. She was the Margueritte II, on passage from Marseilles to Naples, manned by a motley crew of 23 Germans most of whom had never been to sea before, and including just a few merchant seamen. The Germans launched two lifeboats, but one smashed and they all crowded into the remaining boat, which was hauled alongside the sub. The Captain and Chief Engineer were taken aboard as prisoners and the rest were given a direction and told to row. One man stood up in the lifeboat and asked, in good English, for food and water. He was told that none could be provided and as the coast was just 11 miles away, they should start rowing.

 Meanwhile the Ursula’s crew boarded the Margueritte II to scavenge anything of value to the Navy; radio and charts etc. At the same time the commandos Livingstone & Weatherall prepared a 25lb charge which they laid in the forward hold below the waterline. Setting 10 minute delay ‘L’ detonators they retired to the sub to watch 5000 tons of enemy ship slither nose first into the deep. The next encounter with the enemy would be very strange indeed.

 On the 6^th December, off the coast of Spain, a vessel was spotted by periscope. The sub surfaced and ordered the ship to stop. The vessel’s skipper hoisted a Nazi flag and as the sub approached, the ship’s crew gave the Nazi salute… which the sub crew returned. They lowered a boat which came alongside and the sub’s navigating officer and a CPO were taken aboard the vessel, finding it was laden with salt. The Nazis presented the navigating officer with two loaves and a bottle of wine, again giving the Nazi salute, which the sub crew returned as they drew away. Either the ship thought it was a German submarine or did they perhaps pretend to; in a successful attempt to save their own hides.  

 Heading back towards Gibraltar, the skipper received a radio message to alter course for Algiers, where they arrived on the 9^th December. HMS Maidstone, the submarine depot ship arrived next day, relocating from the Rock. The two commandos spent the next six days on board Maidstone before being trucked up to Maison Blanche airport to depart in USAF Douglas transport ‘plane named Old Crow. It was an appropriate name; for the wing tips went up and down three feet. Calling at a very muddy Oran, to collect more passengers, they finally arrived back in Gibraltar after a very bumpy flight. They were accommodated here in the Almeida Barracks, (more of that later) before joining HMS Adventure for their next task. 

  

                                                            HMS Ursula at Gibraltar a year before this adventure.

 

 

Alameda Camp:

  

Meet Sergeant Stam Weatherall, No. 2 SBS, who related much of the above tale. Stam tells us that on his return to Gibraltar he was accommodated at Alameda Barracks Camp - which few of us had ever heard of… so where exactly was it and why is there no trace of it today?

 It must have been quite a large camp; the arrival of the first batch of commandos in 1941 was quickly followed by a Signals Section, a Heavy Weapons Troop, an Intelligence Section and a Motor Transport Section, among others. The initial deployment was in response to the threat posed by Operation Felix; consequently the establishment here would be a semi permanent one, until that threat disappeared. 

 The camp was reportedly a group of Nissen huts, generally constructed on flat ground, which is a rare commodity in today’s Alameda. However, in 1941 there were a handful of Nissen huts on the east side of Alameda Grand Parade; no doubt that was expanded as and when required. Certainly by the 1950s, Grand Parade was chokka with huts accommodating returning evacuees in need of re-housing. 

It is also possible that the camp encompassed the Kingsway promenade, which would eventually be demolished post war, in order to build Humphreys estate.

 

 

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 First published at History Soc. Chronicle, revisited Dec 2024 Paul Hodkinson.