Type IIB U-boat U23. (Author’s collection)
The torpedo from U23 hit Daring on the port side aft. Shortly after detonating, it was followed by a secondary explosion, most probably as her after magazine went up, breaking the destroyer clean in two. The stern section towered up and sank rapidly until only a small part remained visible. The fore part capsized in less than thirty seconds and remained floating for about half an hour.25 Of the ship’s company 157 were lost, including Commander Sydney Cooper. Able Seaman Alfred Wilcox recounted:
I was at one of the gun stations on the middle watch looking forward to the time when very shortly I should be in my hammock, when suddenly there was a terrific explosion. The ship broke in half. I was thrown to the deck and saw the funnel falling towards me. Luckily it hit the gun and bounced over into the water. Then I went down with the ship as there was a second explosion. I remember rising to the surface to find the sea covered with oil. An air-lock beneath my oilskins enabled me to keep afloat, and I swam round until I came across two seamen clinging to a Carley float. One of them clambered aboard and pulled me and the other man up. It was dark, and we could hear the shouts of other men, but could not see them. The stern of the destroyer had returned to the surface, and I understand that one man clung to the propeller until he was picked up by a destroyer’s boat. [. . .] We saw what we took to be a submarine. Thinking it was British, we shouted as hard as we could. Then it occurred to us it might be the U-boat that had torpedoed us. We did not want to be picked up by them, so we stopped shouting.26
The submarine was Thistle and the survivors had been seen. Commander Robert Stirling-Hamilton had just gone below, as all seemed peaceful, when two loud explosions rang through the boat. Believing it was depth-charges from one of the escorts at an Asdic contact, he went above to investigate, but without calling the alarm. The officer of the watch told him that just after the explosions a column of black smoke had risen from the direction in which Daring had last been observed, but as the moon was about to set, it was difficult to see much. Closing, strange shapes were seen in the water, but as none of the convoy or the other escorts seemed to react it took some time before the men on the bridge of Thistle realised that it was Daring, which was nowhere to be seen, that had been sunk. A mine was unlikely due to the water depth, and Stirling-Hamilton realised with a chill that a U-boat was around. That a torpedo had already been fired at them and missed seems not to have been registered at all:
We circled near the wreck, keeping an eye open for survivors, looking and listening for the U-boat. With no signs of either, I could not close and stop without the risk of the submarine sinking us as well, for he would still be in the dark sector. At the same time I was every moment expecting the destroyer which had been ahead of Daring to drop back, but they evidently had heard nothing and it was only after a long pause that we were able to attract the attention of a destroyer to starboard of the convoy [Ilex]. She closed Thistle and when I had informed her captain of the situation he steamed off to the west saying that he would look for the U-boat while we were to pick up survivors. Unfortunately he lowered no boats and was out of sight before I could ask for them.27
Only three men were to be found. One disappeared before he could be picked up, one was relatively safe on board the still-floating stern of the destroyer, while the third clung to a small raft. The latter called that his arm was broken so he could not swim and Stirling-Hamilton brought the stern of his submarine as near to the raft as he dared.
Thistle’s RNR Lieutenant [P N Ennor] swam to him with a line. Instead of waiting to be towed alongside, raft and all, which was intended, the man let go and clung to the officer, taking both under water. When the latter had freed himself and grasped the man again, he could not hold him because everything was covered with oil and this unfortunate rating sank and did not reappear. The sea was not rough but the moderate swell made a big motion relative to the submarine’s stern and the officer ran a considerable risk of being severely injured on a propeller or other projection and he was bruised, exhausted bitterly cold and disappointed of having lost the man after his gallant effort.28
T-class submarine Thistle, August 1939. (W&L)
Ilex then returned briefly, lowering two whalers before taking off again searching for the U-boat. This facilitated the rescue work a great deal and the man from the stern (Able Seaman William McBride) was taken care of, although getting him on board the submarine was no easy task in the swell. At dawn it became obvious that there were no further survivors to be found, and Thistle and the other escorts out looking were ordered to rejoin the convoy. Picking up speed in the growing light, the raft with Wilcox and his mates was sighted and brought to the attention of a nearby destroyer, to pick them up. The men on the float had fought the cold and the heavy swell throughout the night, clinging to the raft as best they could. To keep spirits up they sang songs and cheered themselves with the thought that they would be entitled to fourteen days’ leave. When daylight came there was no sign of the wreck or other survivors, but after some time, to their immense relief, the destroyer Inglefield came into view, heading straight for them. By the time they were taken on board, Wilcox and the others on the raft were close to exhaustion and would not have lasted much longer. They were to be the only survivors from Daring, in addition to McBride onboard Thistle.29 Kretschmer continued to stalk the convoy from a distance during the day, but ran into several A/S groups and another heavily escorted convoy, protected by aircraft, that could not be attacked during daylight. HN-12 was no longer to be found.30
A week later, at 21:00 hours on 24 February, the 3,840-ton neutral Swedish Santos, sailing independently from South America to Gothenburg with general cargo, was torpedoed and sunk by U63 off Kirkwall. Thirty-one persons were lost, while the twelve survivors were picked up by the destroyer Gallant the next day, about 50 miles east of Duncansby Head.31 Meanwhile, the commander of U63, Oberleutnant Günther Lorentz received a signal from BdU that he was in a favourable position to intercept convoy HN-14, which had left Bergen for Methil on 22 February. The convoy consisted of fifteen to eighteen merchant ships and the escort consisted of the cruisers Edinburgh and Arethusa, the A/A cruiser Cairo, the destroyers Escapade, Eclipse, Escort, Electra and the minelayer-submarine Narwhal.32
Following the Altmark affair (see Chapter 23), there was increased German air and sea activity in the North Sea. Surface ships were also reported and the Admiralty, wishing a covering force to be available, had ordered the eastbound convoy ON-14 departing Methil for Bergen on 17 February to wait in Kirkwall until Rodney and Hood with escorts were in place in the area on the 20th. Meanwhile, the NCSO in Bergen was alerted and held HN-14 back, waiting for the escort to be ready to take over and bring this convoy back across the North Sea. Eventually, early in the morning of 24 February, the escort had found most of the remaining ships and the convoy was reformed, steering west. In the early morning of the 25th, Electra and Eclipse were detached to go north of the Orkneys with some ships destined for the British west coast. The rest continued towards Methil. At 07:00 the destroyers Inglefield and Imogen fell in, coming from Scapa Flow. At this time Escapade was on the port bow of the convoy, with Escort on the starboard bow and Narwhal abreast the leading ship of the port column.