QUOTES:

[EIRE]

'Few Irish families could have remained untouched'. For some survivors, the war did not end with a safe return home:
The Irish Mercantile Marine was tasked during the war with the carriage of badly needed supplies to and exports from Ireland. It was inevitable, sailing as they did in the Atlantic and home waters infested with German and Allied warships, submarines and aircraft, that losses would occur. The many brave Irish Seamen that volunteered to keep our supply lines open should be honoured, remembered and never forgotten.

Ireland now officially remembers its lost sons of the Great War without embarrassment or shame. It would be no bad thing if people also freely recalled the purely personal and voluntary sacrifice made by many individuals, unsupported by any political campaign and rigorously concealed by the censor – even in their deaths – those whose fight for freedom helped to give us a free Europe.

It should be mentioned that between 1939 and 1945 nearly 200,000 workers from Eire migrated to work in the British war economy – most of whom remained in the country after the war. Increased Irish emigration to Britain during the 1940s supplied navvies, nurses, clerks, policemen and munition workers. Count John McCormack, the legendary Irish tenor, contributed through public performances and recordings. "They all provided pieces to building the worldwide jigsaw that was Allied victory in the war."

Irish volunteers during World War II included more than military and airforce personnel. The longest campaign was fought at sea. So many Irishmen, women and boys perished during service with both the British merchant navy and the Irish merchant marine service, "many Irish sailors found their lonely graves beneath the waters of the great oceans, especially the Atlantic."

SEVERAL SIOURCES:

[Tower Hill Memorial]

“While in London last week, I saw out the corner of my eye, large stone letters M.N. I am ashamed to say I did not know of the Monument in Trinity Square to the lost ships and men of W.W.2 I recognized many ships names, as the next ones built with those names were part of my life at sea. I could have spent a few hours looking at all the name’s know if I had been around in those days, perhaps I may have been one of them. I am glad the M.N. was commemorated in such a monument” Mick Wisher.

www.cwgc.org/admin/files/cwgc_towerhill.pdf

[Please Remember]

"Let those who come after see to it that his name be not forgotten".

[DP]

HEROES

by David Partridge, Botany Bay, Australia.

Don't speak to me of heroes until you've heard the tale
Of Britain's merchant seamen who sailed through storm and gale
To keep those lifelines open in our hour of need
When a tyrant cast a shadow across our Island breed
Captains, greasers, cabin boys mates and engineers
Heard the call to duty cast aside their fears
They stoked those hungry boilers and stood behind the wheel
While cooks and stewards manned the guns on coffins made of steel
They moved in icy convoys from Scapa to Murmansk
And crossed the western ocean, never seeking thanks.
They sailed the South Atlantic where raiders lay in wait
And kept the food lines open from Malta to the Cape.
Tracked by silent Uboats which hunted from below,
Shelled by mighty cannons and fighter's flying low,
They clung to burning lifeboats when the sea had turned to flame
And watched their ship mates disappear to everlasting fame.
I speak not of a handful but 3O,OOO plus,
Some whose names we'll never know in whom we placed our trust.
They never knew the honour of medals on their chests
Or marching bands and victory and glory and the rest.
The ocean is their resting place, their tombstone is the wind,
The seabird's cry their last goodbye to family and friend.
Freighters, troopships, liners and tankers by the score,
Fishing boats and coasters, 2,OOO ships and more
They flew the Red Duster as they sank beneath the waves
And took those countless heroes to lonely ocean graves.
Their legacy is freedom to those who hold it dear
To walk with clear horizons and never hide in fear
So when you speak of heroes remember those at sea
From Britain's Merchant Navy who died to keep us free.

[BISS]

Sailors' Society

News Headlines

Together We will Remember Them!

'Sea of Remembrance' 2008

Last year the Sailors’ Society planted 800 Red Ensign Flags for the Merchant Navy Day Service at Trinity Gardens. Each flag bore its own heart-warming message. Some remembered their loved ones lost during the war, others wanted to recognise our seafarers of today. The occasion was incredibly moving with cadets and veterans side by side on their knees together planting the flags. It was a truly remarkable sight.

This year we are encouraging more people to become involved by sending their messages on our Red Ensign Flags. We wish to give the Merchant Navy seafarers the recognition they deserve.

We invite you to write a message on our Red Ensign Flag (supplied in the pack you request) in memory of a loved one, friend or colleague, or someone who is presently away at sea.

Today, it is not unusual for seafarers to be separated from loved ones for up to 12 months, with severe restrictions limiting access to phones or internet. The Sailors’ Society provides a life-line for seafarers now, as it did during the War years.

Contact us NOW for your Red Ensign Flag pack.

Within the pack you will find a small card flag on which you can write your message and return it to us. We will then plant the flag on your behalf at Trinity Gardens on 7th September 2008.

[e-mail]

If you cannot make Tower Hill on the Merchant Navy Annual Service Day, please pass on a message or remember via the:
Sailors’ Society

350 Shirley Road
Southampton
Hampshire
SO15 3HY
Telephone: [phone]
Fax: [phone]

General Enquries: [e-mail]
Accounts Department: [e-mail]
Chaplains Department: [e-mail]
Fundraising Department: [e-mail]

Registered Charity No: 237778
Limited by Guarantee, Registered in England No: 86942,Patron Her Majesty the Queen.

[KG]

Crossing the bar

by Alfred Tennyson

Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have cross'd the bar.

["Crossing the bar" refers to the death of a mariner. The phrase has its origin in the fact that most rivers and bays develop a sandbar across their entrances, and "crossing the bar" meant
leaving the safety of the harbor for the unknown.]

[Touching]

Touching.

A generally reported belief is that it is lucky to touch a sailor, or at least a sailor's collar. In most cases it appears to be females, or children, who are actually willing to carry out the action, which may say more about the gender-based societal norms of interpersonal contact than about who holds the belief itself. The earliest known references, however, date only to 1916, and it is possible that it originated during the First World War.

[WORDS THAT SADDEN ME]

Should I post under QUOTES as well ? DONE.

SOME WORDS THAT SADDEN ME

World War Plaques & all medals were intended to be kept by the families & their descendants, in the words of the Memorial Scroll: "Let those who come after see to it that his name be not forgotten". In this mission many families failed & sadly this continues, more so as the modern trend of fragmented families & attendant distractions reduce those feelings of connection, debt, honour, sacrifice & remembrance.

A Galley boy Named Raymond Steed

The CWGC registers the names of 513 Merchant Seamen aged 14 to 16 who died between 1939-1945.

The youngest known recorded Second World War service death being that of:

STEED, Galley Boy, RAYMOND VICTOR, S.S. "Empire Morn" (Barrow-in-Furness). Merchant Navy. killed 26th April 1943. After his ship hit a mine. Age 14. Son of Wilfed & Olive Steed (nee Bright) of 20 Christchurch Road, Newport, Monmouthshire. Buried Ben M'Sik Cemetery. Plot 59A. Row 1. Grave 1.

COMMENT

telboy wrote:

I'm always somewhat bemused that most post(ers) (is there such a term?) are always more than ready to post on current topics, and rightly so.....but.... Articles like this always draw my attention, and I feel the majority of posters on this site should at least make some comment. Raymond Steed died when he was FOURTEEN years old. That's 14 years old. His was not a tragic co-lateral death in a warzone , he was serving aboard a merchant navy vessel in an active theatre of war. Raymond was killed 64 years ago but that should not lessen the sense of tragedy. He was a child when he died. A child, but with the maturity and strength to choose to stand against the dark clouds of Nazi tyranny shadowing europe then.

Raymond was killed some 18 years before I was born. I have a daughter of that age, and sons marginally younger and older. I always feel strongly about such events because Raymond and countless others died within what I class as living history for a cause that should be unquestionably remembered. All wartime death is tragic and the passage of time shouldn't dim our compassion. Kenneth, William, I'm 46 years old, but the passage of time since the sacrifice that your brother made doesn't make a difference to me. “They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them.”

To get back to the issue in question, Newport Council, whatever your political persuasion, you should champion this cause and get young master Steed's statue placed in Newport. On a personal note, I think Raymond's statue should depict the dress of the day. When he died he was a Merchant seaman not a Scout (I'm not decrying Scouts my 2 sons were, and my daughter was a Bownie) Raymond was employed & died as a merchant Seaman and should be remembered as such. Haven't been on my soapbox for a while, but.........

18 Dec 07

[barrymerchantseamenorguk]

Merchant Seamen are always in the front line of wars that involve Great Britain. When a war starts, they don't suddenly find themselves doing a different job, for different people. They don't acquire the new respect of the public, don't become more glamorous. They simply work harder, in much more dangerous conditions.

They are also frequently overlooked.

www.barrymerchantseamen.org.uk/

David Simpson
[e-mail]

Charles Wordingham
[e-mail]

"There are no graves: no crosses: no where a loved one can shed a tear: We should remember them." David Simpson.

[PROVE YOUR A HERO]

While much was going on, news of the losses in Convoys SC7 and HX79 came in on October 20th. 1940 and Churchill nearly despaired. This is a speech he made: -

"The Merchant Navy, with its Allied comrades, night and day, in weather fair or foul, faces not only the ordinary perils on the sea, but the sudden assaults of war from beneath the waters or from the sky. Your first task is to bring to port the cargoes vital for us at home or for our Armies abroad, and we trust your tenacity and resolve to see this stern task through. We are a seafaring race, and we understand the call of the sea. We account you, in these hard days, worthy successors to a tradition of steadfast courage and high adventure. We feel confident that the proud tradition of our Island will be upheld today - wherever the Ensign of a British Merchantman is flown." What a wonderful recognition, by a great man, of the part played by all our merchant seamen in the darkest days of the War. In contrast; let us consider the language used by today's British government as it decides how it recognises the efforts of the Merchant Navy in that conflict.

"Merchant Navy men will be granted a 'Veterans Medal' if they can prove that the ships that they sailed in facilitated Military Operations". Without the Merchant Marine and the food and raw materials they brought, there would not have been any 'military operations'.

[Administrator]

In every British man or women is born the spirit of our sea-roving and sea-fighting tradition. Take this inhertence, plant it in the right surroundings, nourish it with sound training and you wil produce the finest sailor in the world.

Extracted from the April 1931 prospectus of the Conway, the training ship established for Merchant Navy deck officers.

[Administrator]

The Quiet Heroes: British Merchant Seamen at War (Reminiscence) (Paperback)
by Bernard Edwards (Author)

The men of Britain's Merchant Navy, although unarmed civilians going about their lawful business were the first to be involved with the enemy in the Second World War. Less than nine hours after the declaration of war on 3 September 1939, the Donaldson liner Athenia was sunk without warning by a German U-boat off the west coast of Ireland. From that moment onwards, British merchant seamen were constantly in the front line in all quarters of the globe. For almost six years they faced, without flinching, their own private hell of torpedoes, bombs, shells and mines, all the while fending off their old arch-enemy, the sea. Sorely pressed, and often tired near to death, they kept open Britain's tenuous lifelines, bringing millions of tons of raw materials, food, oil, arms and ammunition, without which the country could not have survived. As always, their spirit was indomitable, their professionalism unchallenged. The price they paid for their bravery and dedication was horrendous: 2,246 ships lost, 29,180 men killed, and countless hundreds maimed and wounded. This book tells the story of just a few of these quiet heroes.

The song or prayer "For those in peril on the sea" refers to the daily battle seafarers encounter from the oceans and elements regularly faced. Ships formed into war-time Convoy's for purported greater safety, too often presented a skittle-alley to submarine torpedoes, a fairground shooting-range to armed raiders or battleships, and even crawling prey to the falcons flying above.

This book required none of the drama building of a novelist or screenwriter, its naked, often times understated revelations about the realities of being a seaman, during a destructive world war, are overlooked stories.

It was amazing to learn the Merchant Navy lost a far greater proportion of its strength than 'any' of the armed services, yet these men were 'not' conscripts, rather they were volunteers, doing a job, and called upon to risk all - routinely. That one-in-three of them died, and, we do not know about it, seems obscene. I think we should salute them. An informative and thought provoking read.

By A Customer

The above has been reproduced in tribute from the books description and no attempt has been made to infringe copy-right etc. The words are used in both the description of the book and the rewiew by A Customer could not, not be mentioned.

However, a quick on line search found that Amazon lists it as unavailable and suggests that it is not known as to if and when it will be. I have obviously not been able to read as yet this book and will review it ASAP, If and when that becomes possible. The above words wre enough to appeal to our interest and are offered in tribute. KG.

[Administrator]

“If Blood was the price -
We had to pay for our freedom
Then the Merchant Ship Sailors
Paid it in full”

From: Norman Date / Hon Secretary/ Merchant Navy Association Bristol UK

[KG]

To the ships of our seas ,
And the women of our land ....
May the former be well Captained
And the latter well manned .

Unknown

[Administrator]

"CHRISTMAS AT SEA"

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seamen scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;
But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:
So's we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every 'long-shore home;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.

O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate Jackson, cried.
..."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,
Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.

By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94).

THE JOURNEY

I am standing by the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud, just where the sea and sky come to meet each other.

Then someone at my side says "There! She's gone!”. Gone? Gone from sight, that is all. She is just as large in hull and mast and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment someone at my side says "There! She's gone", there are
others watching her coming and other voices to take up the glad
shout "There! She comes!".

Anon.