1941, Saturday 05 April;
The crew of HMS Regent stood in silence, swaying with the motion of the submarine. No words were spoken, hand gestures only, as they worked under silent running. Faintly the crew heard the ping of a sonar, and again, eyes looking at crewmates, seeing the sweat on their faces. In the Hydrophone office, a cupboard with a curtain as a door, barely big enough for the equipment and the operator to fit in, sat Leading Telegraphist Daws whispering to Acting Lieutenant O’Neil, hunched next to him. “Another contact sir, closing, direction 273 degrees, single screw” O’Neil looked up, along the passageway into the control room, and spoke quietly, in a slow clear voice, that carried well, repeating Daws.
Lt Cmdr Knox paused for a moment, made a mental calculation, then whispered “Port helmsman, come to 90 degrees, steady at 4 knots, plot that please Henry” looking at his navigation officer, Lt Henry Jones, bent over the plotting table, pencil and ruler busy. Knox looked over his shoulder. The destroyer lay somewhere to their starboard side, about 170 degrees, and was providing the sonar contact, while this new ship made an attack.
Now the crew began to hear the vessel approaching, the regularity of the single screw thrashing through the sea. O’Neil spoke again, relaying Daws, “distance about 600 yards, estimates speed about 10 knots”. Knox looked at his helmsman, “steady as she goes”. O’Neil again, “400 yards, holding course”. The tension was in them all, a sailor coughed, and was given dagger looks. O’Neil, “200 yards, holding course, 10 knots” Knox took a deep breath, “Hard Port helmsman, full speed, come to 350 degrees, down 60 feet to 200 feet” The control room sprang into action, with quite efficacy as everyone did their bit.
On the surface, the attacking ship’s crew stood ready, awaiting the order, as the officer counted down, slowly raising his arm. Down went the arm, the order shouted out, and the depth charge crew pulled the release lever. On the destroyer, the contact had been lost, and the captain was already ordering a turn to port.
The noise of the screw above became deafening, and then noticeably started to draw away. “350 degrees, 200 feet at 8 knots sir” softly spoke the helmsman. “OK reduce speed, 4 knots” replied Knox. The crew looked at each other, small smiles on their lips, the “old man” had done it again.
On the surface, Lt Cmdr Davies, Thanet’s captain, smiled and turned to his number one, “Regent’s done it again, begin a new search pattern, signal Kampar “Never mind, better luck next time” and then signal Mata Hari it’s her turn next.” The two auxiliary patrol ships had recently been upgraded, with a small ASDIC and depth charge racks added to the existing armament of one old 4-inch gun and two Lewis guns mounted on the bridge wings. Their crew’s initial enthusiasm was now being tempered by the reality of the limitations of ASDIC, but nevertheless it was a lot more exhilarating on anti-submarine training than a normal patrol beat. Furthermore, they had the rest of the afternoon to exercise, before returning to Penang, and with tomorrow being Sunday, a day off.
