The family had been told of the letter which was kept with Dad’s Navy medals. It is a special letter as he managed to send it home to his family in Southampton, uncensored via an Uncle who was in the Merchant Navy. They had arranged to meet.
The letter was started on Christmas Day 1940, aboard HMT Empire Trooper. It describes his journey from Portsmouth, life on board ship, his feelings and how they were attacked by a German Raider. The ship was hit twice and water was pouring in and they had to make for the nearest port. The letter is very descriptive, giving a true picture of life on board.
The second letter was among Dad’s belongings, with other memorabilia.
It shares his relief about he and his family surviving the war. The letter is written just after V.E. day, 15th May 1945 and describes his feelings and desires about his homecoming; it portrays his emotions that are truly deep felt.
Transcript:
[Letter 1]
HMT Empire Trooper
Dear Mum, Dad and Girls,
I hope you are having a better Christmas than I am. At the present moment we are all grouped about hoping for the best. I will explain later (I have a certain amount of optimism in writing this letter, but heres hoping it reaches you sometime)
We left Portsmouth by train at about half past five on Sunday 15th Dec and after twenty four hours travelling we reached a place called Gouroc which is situated on the Clyde. It had just started raining; we were told to put our baggage & ourselves on board a tug which would take us to our ship. We did so. For an hour we were drawn up alongside the trooper before they attempted to get us on board and we were wet through. There were no lights and everything was upside down. I was lucky, I stowed my gear together and when we were able, I knew just where to lay my hands on it. When we eventually got on board - what a sight. I am now imagine what the Black Hole of Calcutta was like, it was the [unclear] all over again. We have scarcly room to move.
We went to our hammocks hanging that night. The next morning we had to line up for a wash with water swishing around our heels. There are soldiers as well as airmen & ourselves on board. I can't remember what we have had for food the first three or four days, but whatever it was it was rotten. Never in my life have I tasted anything so foul. We set sail on Thursday at half past one (A.M.) Dec 19th and until today nothing of importance has happened. We are all crowded together like people lined up for a Cup Final. At night time it is stifling in our hammocks and as yet we are still in cold weater. If we are still on this thing in the Tropics, God help us - I will tell you why I say "If we are still on baord".
CHRISTMAS DAY This used to mean so much to me but today it was just another day (or at least I thought it was going to be) It was about quarter to eight in the morning, everyone absolutely fed up. We were arguing as to who was going to get the breakfast (such as it always is) then - a crash - the ship quivered and a sound like water coming in, someone yelled "We're tin fished" What a rush everyone seemed to go mad especially the soldiers, they blocked the gangway & companion ways in this mad rush to get out. I had left my life belt somwehere (I got panicky - my heart was pounding so much it hurt, but I did not pay much attention to that) it was in my cap above my hammock pitch I snatched it up and then I realised the fatility of trying to do anything so I sat down on the mess stool and waited. All this time (about two minutes but it seemed hours). Gunfire had been crashing out. Four of us were left actually on the mess deck all the others were trying to get on top. What they were going to do when they got up there I'm afraid I don't know. I was feeling more at ease now so I went to the Gally and helped myself to some tea. It was all over in ten minutes or so, one of the lads came down and said that a steam pipe had burst and the escaping steam was what we thought was water. He thought that one chap had been killed. I went for a walk and saw some of the crew remove the body, if there was a bone unbroken I'm a Dutchman.
We had been attacked by a German Raider and two hits had been scored. Water is still pouring in. The crew are kneedeep trying to stop the holes up.
For Christmas dinner I ate a piece of cold mutton and one boiled potatoe, I are this monkey [unclear]. As I said before we are all hoping for the best as we don't know yet wether we have to abandon ship. Our escort chased the raider off or we should be on the bottom by now. This may seem very dramatic to you but I can assure you I don't feel like making things up at the present time and in my present state.
THURSDAY Our skipper has told the convoy to carry on and that we will make for the nearest port. He thinks that the damage is not too bad. We have a Sloop with us now. K83. Another man has since died (alascan) from injuries received. He had both legs broken, one had to be amputated - he has batted. Both men have been thrown overboard. Corned Dog & a few pickles. What a lovely Boxing Day dinner. The lads are just about NUTS, To cheer us up the skipper has given us all a tot of Neat Rum. We have received a message from the Sloop, she has to refuel so must leave us. We are stationary.
Water is still pouring in. All this water is in the hold, forehead and the watertight doors are keeping it in.
The weather is getting warmer, this afternoon I could take my hands from my overcoat pockets and just keep my gloves on. We have sent out a wireless message saying we need assistance. This is a dangerous thing to do as it gives away our position to enemy as well as friend. A collision mat has been fixed over the hole. It is too rough to try and mend.
Darkness has fallen, the ship is cruising around at the speed of one mile an hour approx. The Wailing of the Lascars because the death of their "oppo" is enough to drive anyone Batty. I think I'll turn in and dream of HOME and a nice hot bath.
FRIDAY We have been alone for twenty four hours. The sea is calm. An attempt is to be made to mend the damage. We are standing on the Port side so as to lift the Starboard side from the sea as much as pos. A plate taken from a stoke - hold door has been fixed in place, and we have increased speed to about three knots. The Skipper is afraid to increase speed too much as our bows are still weak even with the plate on and a lof of pressure would cause something to give way. If the bows give way you certainly wont get this letter.
One hour after the plate was fixed on. 13.00
There is nothing to write except our conditions and the rotton conditions we are living under. I have just about had a gut full of rotten food, filthy mess decks and officers who are treated like lords and yet treat us like pigs, so as soon as this war is over I shall do my best to get out of this pig sty. Will write no more until something happens.
SATURDAY For three days now we have been alone but a speck is on the horizon. We are holding our breath in suspense. If it is friend O.K. but if it is enemy XO?!
It is our Sloop back again, are we glad to see her. She is only small, but U boats don't like them.
4 O clock PM. Rather an amazing thing has just happened but goes to show the courage of some (people) men. A darned great cruiser came steaming up and immediately our Stoop turned round it tore straight at her, full speed. But fortunately the Stars and Stripes flag went up so everything was O.K. One Broadside from the cruiser and the Stoop would have been no more, yet she didn't hesitate but went straight in, it was an impressive sight.
SUNDAY DEC 29TH
We have put into Ponta Del Garda on the island of San Miguel which is in the Azores. This is a lovely place but of course we cant go ashore. The Portugese here [unclear] with the wares and sell them to us through the portholes. Our damage is repaired.
JANUARY 5TH 1941
We have now reached Gibraltas. We are allowed ashore here but there is not a great deal to do.
JANUARY 19TH 1941
The Empire Trooper has been condemned as a troopship. We have transferred all our stuff to the Monarch of Bermuda and left for Freetown. This is a much better ship, but the food is still pretty rotten.
JANUARY 26TH
Reached Freetown. Found that the Empire of Australia is in the Convoy that we will join to go to Capetown. Can't get ashore and cant see Ron.
JANUARY 29th
Left Freetown for Capetown. Hope to see Ron and give him this. As you will no doubt guess this letter or account of our actions would not pass censor.
JANUARY 31ST
Crossed the line today and had an official ducking. Some rotten concoction was shoved into my mouth as I sat in the chair. Paste of some sort and blacking was plastered on to my face, then I was pushed over backwards into the water tanks. Then half a dozen fellows dived on me and gave me a second Christening only in a more violent fashion.
FEBRUARY 8TH
I am in Australia with Ron. He is going to post this so I will now close.
Lots of love Max
Well folks. Everything OK now I am quite well, sunburned and healthy. When we get to Alex, we are all being drafted to ships so I might be home before anticipated.
I tried to tell you in one of my other letters that we had been hit, remember I said "I have chums here [unclear] I wish Dad was here to fix me up with a game of Darts"
I did not put a dash between [unclear] and [unclear] it would have been obvious but I left a space. Dad being a shipwright would have been able to fix us up.
All for now
PS Have learnt to play chess and that is how I spend my time.
Enclosed is a Gibralter stamp for Bill
[Letter 2]
15-5-45
Just a few hasty lines to say how much I appreciated your letter written on that day of days V.E. Day. It arrived today and more or less answered a question which I'd been asking myself. You see whilst I (and my chums) had been celebrating the decisive defeat of Germany, I was wondering what you, Dad and the Girls were doing. So it is very satisfying from the family point of view to know that you were thinking of me. It isn't that I thought that you had for the time being forgotten me, but to always take things for granted and never be told what you most want to hear is more incomplete. I do not in the least think you are soft for writing that you thank God for my safe passage through the war, it is in moments such as on the 8th which make us realise that there is such a being as God and although perhaps I would not admit it to anyone else (I don't know why) I confess to you that I have prayed for the safekeeping of the family and am needless to say, overjoyed that my prayers have been answered.
I am not sorry that you wont be able to hang flags out in Meadowmead, after all that is a thing of the moment, what I want is what you've promised me and what I've cherished ever since I've been away, that is, a hearty welcome.
