HMS Ulysses. Alistair MacLean

      ‘Think you could make it back to base?’

      ‘With this wind and sea behind us, yes. Still take three-four days.’

      ‘Right-o, then.’ Tyndall’s voice was gruff. ‘Off you go. You’re no good to us without bows! Damned hard luck, Captain Barlow. My commiserations. And oh! I’m giving you the Baliol and Nairn as escorts and radioing for an ocean-going tug to come out to meet you—just in case.’

      ‘Thank you, sir. We appreciate that. One last thing—permission to empty starboard squadron fuel tanks. We’ve taken a lot of water, can’t get rid of it all—only way to recover our trim.’

      Tyndall sighed. ‘Yes, I was expecting that. Can’t be helped and we can’t take it off you in this weather. Good luck, Captain. Goodbye.’

      ‘Thank you very much, sir. Goodbye.’

      Twenty minutes later, the Ulysses was back on station in the squadron. Shortly afterwards, they saw the Invader, not listing quite so heavily now, head slowly round to the southeast, the little Hunt class destroyer and the frigate, one on either side, rolling wickedly as they came round with her. In another ten minutes, watchers on the Ulysses had lost sight of them, buried in a flurrying snow squall. Three gone and eleven left behind; but it was the eleven who now felt so strangely alone.

1. Cam-ships were merchant ships with specially strengthened fo’c’sles. On these were fitted fore-and-aft angled ramps from which fighter planes, such as modified Hurricanes, were catapulted for convoy defence. After breaking off action, the pilot had either to bale out or land in the sea. ‘Hazardous’ is rather an inadequate word to describe the duties of this handful of very gallant pilots: the chances of survival were not high.