HERO OF THE WAR.

Grey River Argus, 8 December 1928, Page 2 (Supplement)

HERO OF THE WAR.

POSTHUMOUS V.C. ENCOUNTER WITH U BOAT. ONE-SIDED COMBAT. Captain Harold Autcn, V.C., D. 5.0., R.N.R., in a series of articles on Q beats, gives the following account of a. posthumous V.C. won by the commander of a fishing smack, manned by one gun. in a fight with a German submarine: Nof all the heroes of the war were in the trenches. There are untold talcs of daring and sheer superhuman courage that have slipped into oblivion along with the men who made them. Some of these concern the mei; aboard the Q boats who faced the peril of thi submarine with little guns and high hearts. Many of them were born and raised to the sea. and they splendidly fulfilled England’s age old tradition of gallant and daring seamen. Such a one was Skipper Thomas (’risp. D. 5.0., R.N.R., commander of 11. M., smack Nelson. Politicians have a habit of counting a navy’s strength by the number of ship! and number of guns they carry. But the wars that mon have fought have been decided not alone on ships ami guns, but upon I the men behind the guns. Heroic qualities are not necessarily th? pre rogative of men trained to war, but are fouml equally in the forecastle of a merchant ship, and among the crew of a fishing smack. Lt was in August, 1917. that the Nelson, armed with a small gun concealed in her bows, wa s apparently engaged in her peaceful occupation of fishing. The skipper was leaning over the rails speculating as to the amount and qualify of the catch he hoped to get w hi n he hove in his gear. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. “I. wonder.” he remarked to his second hand, with whom he had just been discussing the weather chances and the jios'ibility of encountering a submarine, “I wonder when the Germans ’ll bo beaten.” “I dunno,” replied the second hand. “P’raps when the Grand Elect gets holds of ’em if any get home,” he added. with a quiet chuckle, Is he turn'd forward to look after some goal that required repairing. . I’lie blue sea was running ibv 'Pong swells under the morning sun, and there was a tang of salt in th crisp air. The little smack was a frail toy on the empty expanse of the Atlantic. The skipper continued to smoke his pipe, and think of the golden days of peace, when tfiere would'be no war to disturb his occupation of fishing. Grimsby was the port to which he Io longed, and he wis’ned himself ashore again with 'his family, just as he was going below to get a refill for his pipe, •io was startled by the sight of a largo Gi rman submarine breaking surface near to him. She came Up swiftly with the water pouring down the black sides of her narrow hull, like some great sinister beast of the deep. Hr conning tower opened and Ger man sailors poured out to man the gun on deck. While the men on the smacn were still watching fascinated, she began to shell the little boat under the directions of an officer who watched through his glasses from the conning

Skipper Crisp was at first undecided what to do. Should he order his crew t 0 abandon the ship as a “panic I'arty,” whilst he his gunner, and an other hand remained on board Io try and get the submarinq close, so that they could make certain of hitting UNEQUAL FIGHT. Thu submarine fired another shell •it the little smack, and the skippci decided to fight. He ordered the gear tn be let go, and the gyn uncovered and brought intijzaction. So far the submarine hail fired three shots. As tlu fourth struck the smack forward on the port bow, just beneath the water line, she returned the fire. The men wire unafraid and eager for yctlpi. But the Nelson’s gun was smaller than that of the U boat and it was a onesided duel. The fifth shot from the submarine full short, the sixth parsed just over and the seventh struck the fighting skipper, partially disembowelling him. It then passed through the deck, and out the other side of the smack. 'Phe skipper stretched on the deck, gritted his teeth and smiled at his nun. He sent for the wireless operator ordering him to make the S.O.S. signal, giving details of their position, and that they were being badly shelled by a U boat. Then hp lay back on the swaying deck of his tiny craft and in a steady voice continued to command the ship. The smack was hit repeatedly after this, and soon began to settle down. She fought back gamely with her little gun. Every round of ammunition was fired by the skipper’s direction, while he lay with the life draining out of his body. But the submarine outranged the Nelson, and the latter’s firing was ineffectua 1. THE ORDER TO LEAVE. The Nelson was sinking fast, and at the commands of the grim-faced skipper, the crew proceeded to get out their boat. They went and began carefully to life the skipper. He was a terribly injured man. i “No, boys, leave me alone,” he said. “I know she’s sinking, and J know my number’s up.” The crew stood round, on the deck of the sinking boat watching the grey face of the man on the deck. They had been trained to obey him. but they could not leave him. His eyes opened again and went slowly from man to man. Then ho spoke again with the steel of command in his voice. “Man the boat you lubbers and pull away. Step lively.” As he turned 'over on his side with his face away i rom them the little smack sank. For hi’s bravery in action Skipper Crisp was awarded a posthumous V.C. Not many people know how he went to his grave in the sea, but a few know, and they remember the tone of his last command.