Peter Roberts' childhood memories, added to his mother's account, of the sinking of the City of Nagpur, 29th April 1941
NB most of this story was written by Kathleen Roberts, but Peter has added his memories Dec 2005
PETER ROBERTS ON THE “CITY OF NAGPUR
I, Peter, age nearly 7, was on the "City of Nagpur" when it was torpedoed on 29th April 1941 and sunk by U-boat U75 when about 600 miles west of Fastnet.
My father was an RAFVR accountant officer and was posted to South Africa where RAF pilots were being trained well away from the European war zone. My mother, with my sister and myself moved from home in London to stay with relatives in Kidwelly, South Wales. When the opportunity came for her to join her husband in April 1941, she and the children went by train to Glasgow (memories of long waits on darkened platforms at Crewe and Shrewsbury), then to Greenock Dock and the "City of Nagpur", bound for Cape Town. Jenny was just 4 years old.
The planned route was keeping to the north across the Atlantic in convoy to avoid most of the U-boats, then south, once over on the American side. The Nagpur started the voyage in convoy, but the convoy was very slow, and about the third day out the Captain decided to make a run for it, sailing alone on a South-Westerly heading. On the fourth night the Nagpur was crippled by a torpedo from a German U-boat.
The following is an account written later by my mother, Kathleen Roberts, who died in Australia in 1997, aged 95
“On Tuesday April 29th 1941, at 2am, we were awakened by a terrific crash as the torpedo struck the “City of Nagpur”. I jumped out of bed, was sleeping in my slacks, with money safely in my pocket, and luckily had my torch, as of course there were no lights. It was amazing, but the children were still asleep in pyjamas, so I bundled them into their life-belts, jerseys and slippers and picked up a rug and our overcoats.
“When we mustered for our station it was pretty grim to find the exit blocked. Two boys who had closed their cabin doors (against orders) were extricated after the panel of the door had been smashed in, then we went up to the lounge and after waiting about 10 minutes, were told to go on deck for the lifeboats.
“ I handed Jenny up on to a boat, and then to my horror they called out “Full Up!” and lowered the boat. Peter and I had to go to the other side of the ship where the last boat had already been lowered, I believe by Lascars, who had panicked and crowded in. Some man carried Peter down the rope ladder and I followed. When the man with Peter jumped into the lifeboat, I was flung round against the side of the ship, then I too dropped in, still clutching my bundle of coats.
“We were very crowded, over 70 instead of 50, so we literally could hardly sit, just remaining wedged where we were. Everyone was sick and I envied those sitting at the side.
“It was an eerie feeling to see the submarine, now shelling the ship, so near to us. As somebody remarked, the U-boat captain was a gentleman. He had given 20 minutes warning to allow passengers to take to the boats and did nothing to prevent our getting away. Of course we had expected to be rammed or machine gunned.
“Later we picked up the captain who had been in the water but was then on a raft. His legs had been injured and for a time he was quite delirious. The wireless operator was also in our boat and I heard then that no SOS had been sent out as the wireless room had been smashed in at the start, and the emergency set would not work. At 4am the “City of Nagpur” sank. In his ravings the captain said that some of the boats had been blown up and you can imagine how I felt, not knowing where Jenny was. Peter was so good, but was very worried about Jenny.
“All the children behaved splendidly, there was no sign of panic; I think everyone felt dazed more than anything else and it was strange to see them continually falling to sleep. My feelings about Jenny were indescribable, yet I kept dozing off and on the whole time.
“At 7am we saw a plane (an American Catalina Flying Boat) and once it was definite it was not German, we flashed torches and for the first time felt hopeful. We were a long way from the other boats, but rowed nearer and handed across 5 men to one that was less crowded. After that there were some horrible moments when it was discovered that the plug was missing from the bottom of the boat, however a temporary affair was quickly inserted.
“Chocolate was given to the children and dry biscuits, condensed milk and a few sips of water were allowed twice during that day. It had been beautifully sunny all the time and we got very burnt.
“At 10pm it was still quite light when we saw the destroyer – the most wonderful sight I have ever seen in my life. We all waved and shouted and the boats were formed into line and we were hauled up over the side and our boats cut adrift at breakneck speed in case the submarine was still lurking around.
“I rushed round looking for Jenny, who was not on board, and at the time I was convinced that ours was the last boatload. The naval men were simply marvellous and were so concerned over Jenny’s absence, so that when two more boats did come alongside she was the first person to be handed up. She was quite the heroine of the affair, they said she had not cried once.
“We simply raced along at express speed, it was said we were doing over 30 knots, and the vibration and noise were terrific. There were nearly 500 of us on board and how they disposed of us in that small space is still a mystery. They were a grand set of men and I shall be eternally grateful to the British Navy.
“We picked up 3 survivors from a freighter’s crew of 36, and searched for more who were eventually rescued by another destroyer. We were fed very well and did our best to find spots to sleep in. The kiddies who had lost their slippers getting into lifeboats were given socks and a sailor made Jenny a cute little pair of canvas shoes.
“We landed at Greenock on Thursday evening, went up to Glasgow that same evening and caught the 10am train the next morning for Kidwelly.”
That is the end of my mothers written memories.
Here are a few embellishments of what I as a 7-year-old can clearly remember:
1. My main distress during the boarding of the lifeboat was my slipper falling into the ocean.
2. I vaguely remember seeing the ship sink, also what may have been the U-boat, and a sort of firework display, which I assume was the shelling.
3. I saw the searching aircraft which lifted peoples’spirits.
4. I can still smell the wet vomit on my life-belt, and feel the soreness of my chin rubbing on the life-belt.
5. I remember the queueing up of the boats to board the destroyer, which seemed like an age.
6. I remember wonderful meals of baked beans on the destroyer.
Some months after this incident Mother was given a second opportunity to join Father in South Africa……. And she ACCEPTED it! Again it was a sailing from the Clyde, and this time the three of us made it, on a 7-week voyage in a small old rust-bucket, the Umvuma, calling in at Pernambuco in Brazil to avoid the U-Boats.
[Mum’s best friend on the Umvuma was Biddy Fleetwood who with her daughter, Sally also survived the Nagpur sinking. This daughter, Sally, was later to become the elder sister of Susan Fleetwood, actress, and Mick Fleetwood of the Fleetwood Mac]
The “City of Nagpur” was launched in 1922. She was 10,146 tons in weight. Her Master on this voyage was Captain DL Lloyd.
The rescue destroyer was HMS Hurricane.
The Captain of the Catalina was Flight Lieutenant RW Gautrey
Recent research on the internet has shown a memorial to a crewman who lost his life in the torpedoing on 29th April. He was 7th. Officer Robert Carmichael NICHOLSON, 24 years old, remembered on Tower Hill Memorial, London UK panel 29. Ellerman and Bucknall Steamships PCs. (I believe that 15 from the engine room were killed, also one passenger.)
The U-boat was U75, commanded by Helmuth Ringelmann.
U-boat Archives for 28th April show that she spotted “2 westbound steamers in AL4867”. She was ordered to “attack and shadow”. On the 29th She reported that she had sunk Nagpur in AL7421.
She had no further success on this operation, but on 14th May Admiral Doenitz reports: “The Commanding Officer of U75 (Lt Ringelmann) came in to give his report: The boat and Commanding Officer were on their first enemy operation. The Commanding Officer sank, after a lengthy and tenacious pursuit, a vessel of 10,146 tons.”
U75, still under the command of Helmuth Ringelmann, was sunk by depth charges from the British Destroyer HMS Kipling on 28th December 1941 in the Mediterranean off Mersa Matruh, Egypt. 30 survived but 14 died including Ringelmann.
END
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Uploaded: 26th March 2007
