The development of the so-called ‘human torpedo’ by the Royal Navy was as a direct result of Winston Churchill’s insistence after an attack on Royal Navy ships in Alexandria Harbour by Italian ‘human torpedoes’ early in 1942.
The Royal Navy were already trying to develop a midget submarine with a crew of three or four but immediately started a crash programme to produce a satisfactory human torpedo and to select and train the necessary crews from volunteers, who were not told of the tasks that they were expected to undertake. Training of crews started in April 1942 and amongst the first batch was Sergeant Don Craig (Royal Engineers).
The training schedule was extremely arduous. A special diving suit was devised which was difficult to get into and most uncomfortable and ungainly to wear. Added to this was the additional discomfort of a tight nose clip and mouthpiece for the breathing apparatus.
So began weeks of sometimes terrifying experiences in diving tanks and then in the sea to find what extremes the men and their suits could withstand.
By June 1942 the main training of the first batch of men was completed so they were moved to Loch Erisort in the Outer Hebrides to start their training on the human torpedoes themselves. The training went on for months with many anxious and hair raising moments for both the ‘charioteers’ and their instructors trying to cover every possible eventuality that might arise when the men and their novel craft went into active service for the first time.
Once the first intake were considered to be ready they were given a realistic test - an attack on the battleship H.M.S. Rodney anchored in a nearby loch. All possible anti-submarine precautions had been taken and the ship’s crew were aware of an impending mock attack. The attack proved to be highly successful; the three layers of anti-submarine nets were either cut or manouvered under; all charges were placed on the hull of the battleship and the human torpedoes were never spotted from the ship. Don Craig was a member of the two crews who made the attack.
After still more training it was decided that they were now ready for action. The first target was to be the German Pocket Battleship ‘Tirpitz’ which was lying in Asenfjord some 60 miles inland from the North Sea. Six charioteers were chosen; four, including Don, to form the two attack crews and two for a standby crew. After still more training in the Shetlands they were ready to set out for Norway on the 26th October, 1942.
The two chariots were lashed down on the upper deck of a Norwegian fishing vessel ‘Arthur’ which was loaded with a supposed cargo of peat for delivery in Trondhjem. A complete set of false papers had been prepared at the last moment making sure that all the signatures were those of German officers currently in position at the ports that the ‘Arthur’ had appeared to have previously visited. Once the attack had taken place the ‘Arthur’ was to be scuttled; the crew were to meet up with the charioteers and they were then, with the help of the Norwegian underground, to find their way to neutral Sweden and hopefully be allowed to return to U.K.
The ‘Arthur’ reached the Norwegian coast about noon on the 28th after a very rough crossing of the North Sea. They then had an engine breakdown. The ship was nursed round the southern shore of the island of Smola at the entrance to Trondhjemsfjord where the water was now very smooth. They moored for the rest of the night before having breakfast about 8.00am when it was light. Another fishing vessel passed close by and a German plane flew up and down the fjord several times but there were no problems.
The day was spent trying to secure the two chariots under the vessel where they hopefully wouldn’t be seen before moving further up the fjord towards the ‘Tirpitz’. The chariots were finally secured early on the morning of the 30th. The ‘Arthur’ was approached by an old man in a rowing boat who began to get too inquisitive. They eventually managed to get rid of him by giving him a generous slab of butter and threats of what would happen to him if he talked to anyone about the ‘Arthur’ and her crew. Before they weighed anchor about noon everything that was of British origin had been thrown overboard safely into deep water.
During the afternoon the engine was failing again and they were only making very slow progress. They decided to try to reach the small fishing village of Hestvik where they had been told, before leaving the Shetlands, of an agent who could help if there were problems
After arriving there about 10 pm, two of them went ashore in search of the agent. He was found and, after some initial confusion as to their identity, they told him of their problem. A friendly blacksmith was got out of bed and a suitable drill that they needed was found. They hurried back to the ship where the engine had already been stripped down. The drill enabled the piston-head to be repaired sufficiently to take them up the fjord to where the ship would be scuttled.
The repairs were finished by 7am and after a two-hour sleep they set off up the fjord. They had to alter course to skirt a minefield and shortly after they were stopped by a German patrol vessel. The charioteers had been hidden below in a secret compartment on the assumption that this would most probably happen. As the patrol vessel came alongside in dead calm water the ’Arthur’s’ crew were sure that the chariots would be spotted, but luck was with them. A German officer came on board and made a thorough inspection of the ship’s papers. He seemed quite happy with these forged documents and then entered into general conversation with Larsen, the Norwegian leader of the group, talking about his friend, the German harbour-master, at Kristiansund. He just glanced at the bags of peat in the two open hatches, looked down into the engine-room companionway and jumped back to his own ship.
Once the German vessel had disappeared and it had got dark so the hidden charioteers were allowed on deck again. One of the charioteers, Lt. W.R.Brewster, D.S.C., R.N.V.R., wrote at a later date;-
“The weather was quite fine and there were many friendly looking lights flickering ashore. There certainly didn’t seem to be very much concern about black-out. And so we continued peacefully. Just before Trondhjem itself, about fifty or sixty miles up from the entrance, the fjord bends left-handed. We had been keeping a more of less southeasterly course, but had to alter to almost due east. As we made this alteration we were faced with a stiffish easterly breeze, but it wasn’t enough to cause any worry in its existing strength. The other two had finished their preliminary dressing when Brown and I went below to put on our gear. Almost immediately the weather worsened. Other conditions were still good. There was no moon, so our chances of being seen were small, and the lights of Trondhjem, now lying to starboard, would help our navigation. We hadn’t got very far with our dressing when we began to hear a succession of sharp bumps. The chariots were being swung up against the keel. The weather was deteriorating rapidly. It was already a first class storm. Speed had to be reduced, but it was out of the question to wait another twenty-four hours so near to a busy port. We could maintain a speed which would get us there in time to do the attack before daybreak. “Press on regardless” was the only advice we could give ourselves. There was too the hope that the full force of a north-easter would blow itself out in the remaining hour or two before we reached the Asenfjord anti-submarine net and started off on our own. Apparently such fierce storms often ended suddenly on that mountainous coast. Down below, therefore, we continued dressing. I was still below when it happened. It was just after ten o’clock when we heard a loud, grinding, tearing noise. The vessel jerked and shuddered. Something pretty substantial had fouled the propeller. We all guessed what it had been - one of the chariots. There should at least be one serviceable, so we made for the sheltered waters to have a look. Bob Evans was the most completely dressed, so I ordered him down to see what was what. He came up and reported nothing there at all. We were dismayed. The chariots were gone and the attempt was off. I don’t think that anyone has ever been so disappointed as we were that night. We were ten miles from the pride of the German Navy; all our obstacles were behind us; and we might as well have been at the North Pole. Looking back, I don’t remember one single curse. We were all too unhappy for that.”
After discussions it was decided that there was no possibility of sailing back to England and the ‘Arthur’ would have to be scuttled. Ironically the storm abated and had the machines not been detached most probably their mission would have been a success.
Most of the cargo of peat was thrown overboard to make the ship sink faster and provisions were organised and packed into rucksacks. The ship was taken into shallower water near the beach and the total of ten men were rowed ashore in two batches. The seacocks had been opened but, being of wooden construction, the ship took a long time to settle and was still afloat when they left it to begin the long hike to Sweden. (See Note)
It was now early morning on the 1st November. They decided to head eastwards and split up into two parties of five men at daybreak. Larsen was to lead the first party with Don Craig as second in command - Bob Evans, Bill Tebb and Roald Strand completed the number. The two parties went off in their separate routes in an easterly direction until they lost sight of one another either side of a small hill. The rations they were each carrying consisted of two tins of corned beef, three tins of sardines and some biscuits while each group had a map and compass.
As they reached higher into the mountains they soon found that their clothing was quite inadequate for the bitter conditions. They supplemented their food with bilberries and some turnips stolen from a field. The conditions were bitter and as they got higher in the mountains so the colder it became. They had supplies of Benzedrine tablets which they took to keep awake especially during the night so that they could plod on in the terrible weather conditions.
The second party led by Brewster eventually arrived at a small town over the Swedish border about mid morning on the fourth day and he described his feelings as follows;-
We were glad to give ourselves up. We were dishevelled, hungry and wearing ten days’ growth of beard, but apart from Causer, we were otherwise all right. Malcolm was in a bad way. He had been in pretty bad pain for the last couple of days, but had said nothing about it. It was frostbite, of course. He was obviously the most susceptible, coming from Brazil, but it was a wonder that Brown and I weren’t troubled too.
The local police were very friendly, and before any sort of interview could get under way we asked them to send for a doctor to look at Malcolm’s feet. The ‘doc’ arrived and was most concerned. Not long after this Malcolm was separated from us and, as we learned when he eventually rejoined us in Scotland, was packed off to a Swedish hospital, where he spent a very pleasant month.
When they had given themselves up to the Swedish authorities they heard that another British party had arrived that morning. This was Larsen’s party. They had been stopped in a mountain town by two German policemen who, although initially satisfied with the forged papers, insisted that they went with them to the local police station. On the way, Bill Tebb, the only one of the party still with a weapon, managed to draw his revolver and fire, but missed. The Germans fired back and hit Bob Evans in the stomach. Tebb fired again, killing both Germans. Larsen and Don Craig examined Evans who, to all appearances, appeared to be dead. Anyway, as he was a large man, it would have been impossible to carry him any distance at speed trying to escape the German search party that would surely try to track them down.
According to the book, Don Craig, said ‘We’ll have to leave him. I’ll see his identification discs are on him. The Red Cross will want them. And now we had better beat it’
The remaining four then arrived at the Swedish village and gave themselves up. Everyone was distraught at the loss of their good friend. Afterwards they calculated that after four days and nights both parties crossed the frontier within a mile and only an hour of one another.
They were treated very well by the Swedes. After two days they were taken to an internment camp on the outskirts of Stockholm and then into the city itself. Flights were arranged at intervals and they had all arrived back in Scotland by the third week of November.
As a postscript to this incredible adventure, C.E.T. Warren writes in his book;-
‘It was in January 1943 that the rumour reached the flotilla that Evans was still alive. Craig and Tebb went down to Submarine Headquarters in London. The rumour had been correct. And then, in February, there came another rumour - that Evans had been shot. Again the rumour proved true.
The full story was not learnt until after the war. The Germans came upon Evan’s body, but he had not been quite dead. He was rushed to hospital, operated on, and saved. Once fit he was interrogated and, finally, shot as a spy. This was by the express orders of General Keitel. And it was on the evidence of Bill Tebb, among scores of others, that Keitel was indicted at Nuremberg, found guilty, and hanged’.