How the Reichsmarine saved my dad

At the risk of being a bore (...perish the thought I hear you declaim), I'd like to continue on the theme I started last Sunday. The story of Vera has provoked a good bit of interest. I'm not surprised because she tends to have this unerring ability to stimulate curiosity. However, I'm not going to add to Vera's tale but I'm going to tell you another slightly bizarre Second World War story and about the other German who looms large for me.

During the Second World War my father served with the Clan Line in the Merchant Navy (the ones who really deserved the medals as a retired Royal Navy Commander said to me once). During the summer of 1942, he was serving on the Clan MacWhirter which was en route between Bombay and Hull. By the end of August it was the central Atlantic and had fallen behind the rest of the convey it was part of. On August 27th, it was more or less completely separated from that convey and it was spotted by a German U-Boat, U-156 which was under the command of Reichsmarine ace Werner Hartenstein. At approximately 1am, two torpedoes were fired by U-156 sinking the Clan MacWhirter.

A number of the crew, including her master, Captain Masters, was killed but the rest - my father included - managed to get into lifeboats. Then, the most extraordinary thing happened. The U-Boat surfaced and the commander, Werner Hartenstein, appeared and gave them their co-ordinates (200 miles from Madeira) and told them to head south-southwest before the submarine disappeared below the surface again. For eight days, in the baking heat of August, they were in open lifeboats, some crew (particularly the Indians) were badly injured. Eventually, a Portuguese destroyer, the Pedro Nunes, spotted the little lifeboats and picked them up. They were skin and bone and in a pretty bad way. I have an envelope of photographs, taken by a Portuguese officer on the Pedro Nunes, showing them approaching and then rescuing the crew, my dad among them.

However, it was Hartenstein that my father always believed he owed his life to. At 1am in the morning, not knowing their position, in the aftermath of their boat having been blown to bits, they would have stood no chance had he not surfaced to give them co-ordinates and directions.

About ten days after Hartenstein had sunk the MacWhirter, the incident for which he has become famous occurred. In September 1942, he torpedoed the Laconia. He was horrified to discover the ship was carrying civilians (in addition to British troops and Italian Prisoners of War) and mounted a rescue which led to an extremely controversial stand-off and ultimately to Admiral Dönitz's Laconia Order (forbidding rescue at sea). Hartenstein's humanity and compassion was a problem to both sides; his superiors wanted to pursue total war whilst it was inconvenient for the Allies to have a German officer display these qualities when the propaganda war was at its height. The story eventually became an international bestseller and a very successful (and indeed faithful) film. The wikipedia article on the story is quite good.

Hartenstein was killed in action the following year. Funny to think that one of the Reichsmarine's most celebrated, decorated and skilled commanders saved my dad. And, he never wavered in his gratitude to Korvettenkapitän Gustav Julius Werner Hartenstein, Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross.