Dog watches, destruction, and an enamel cup

Sea Power, Dec 2000 by Dremliug, Valentin Valentinovish

Editor's note: The following is an eyewitness account written by a crewman of the Russian hydrographic ship Murmanez that rescued survivors of the ill-- fated WWII Convoy PQ-17, which was attacked in force by German submarines and aircraft in the summer of 1942.

Among the various naval relics on my shelf is a small enamel cupa gift from a boatswain on the American vessel Olopana-that brings back memories of those difficult days of 1942. It was a very hard time.

Through the North Atlantic and the Norwegian and Barents Seas, Allied convoys (labeled PQ on their eastbound voyages) delivered weapons and strategic materials to the Russian ports of Arkhangelsk and Murmansk. In the summer of 1942, German U-boats were active, not only along the usual North Atlantic convoy routes, but also in the southeastern part of the Barents Sea near the island group known as Novaya Zemlya-a two-island sausage-shaped group that separates the Barents Sea from the Kara Sea.

On 2 July 1942 the Soviet Union's hydrographic vessel Murmanez set out to sea from Arkhangelsk on Ice Patrol 18. The small wooden motor vessel-- slightly more than 30 meters long and displacing only 200 tons (GRT)-was propelled by a 160-horsepower engine and operated by a normal complement of 24 officers and men, plus four scientists. She mounted two large-caliber machine guns on deck. Her crew was armed with carbines.

The Ice Patrol vessels were charged with responsibility for both combat and transport operations in the Barents and Kara Seas. The Murmanez crew included a five-man research and operations group, including myself, a 24-year-old hydrographer-navigator who only a few months before had graduated from the Hydrographic Institute.

I was assigned to the Murmanez as chief engineer lieutenant; Ice Patrol 18 was to be my first Arctic cruise, but the most memorable of many.

Our master was a well-known polar sea captain, Capt. Peter Kotzov. Before we set out to sea, Kotzov had familiarized himself with the operational situation in the area. The rest of us, however, in accordance with wartime security regulations, learned about the complicated and dangerous tactical situation only during the course of the voyage.

Pursuant to Fleet Staff instructions, the Murnanez was heading for the west side of the Novaya Zemlya Islands. Life on board was fairly normal, and somewhat monotonous, as the crew rotated watches. My usual watches were the four-hour watches that ran from 0001 to 0400 and from 1200 to 1600.

The DonBas and Daniel Morgan

As she was heading out of the White Sea, Murmanez received a radiogram from the tanker DonBas informing us about the destruction of the ships of convoy PQ- 17 by German submarines and torpedo-bombers. As it turned out, Murmanez proved to be the Russian vessel able to give the first and most important help to the survivors of PQ-17.

In a few days we hailed the nearly swamped DonBas. We were told that the tanker had been part of convoy PQ17, which had been fiercely attacked by the U-boats and torpedo-bombers. Despite the tanker's very seriously damaged condition, the crew of the DonBas rejected our offers of help and continued on her way to Arkhangelsk; we later learned that the DonBas had been the target of 13 attacks by U-boats and aircraft, during which she succeeded in shooting down two enemy aircraft. The DonBas also had rescued 51 survivors of the American transport ship Daniel Morgan.

As the DonBas departed, the Murmanez continued on her assigned mission. On 13 July, while off Gusinaya Island (south of the Novaya Zemlya Islands), we noticed a number of people on shore who were trying to get our attention with smoke and flag signals. Capt. Kotzov ordered a small boat put over. As the boat approached the shore, its crew-well armed with carbines-- was prepared for anything. The two machine guns on the Murmanez also were aimed at the people on shore.

Our hails to them in Russian brought no response, but when we tried English we were told that they were the surviving crew members of the SS Olopana (one of the PQ-17 ships), which had been torpedoed and sunk by a U-boat about 15 miles from Novaya Zemlya. After almost two weeks adrift in a lifeboat, the survivors-12 in all-had finally come ashore at Gusinaya Island. The Americans told us a harrowing tale of relentless and sometimes simultaneous attacks by both U-boats and aircraft.

On 16 July we transferred the Olopana survivors to the settlement at Belushaya Bay. An interesting footnote to the Olopana rescue is the gift to me, mentioned earlier, by the boatswain of the Olopana. As he was taken aboard the Murmanez, the boatswain still had with him the small tin cup with which each lifeboat was equipped for measuring out the daily rations of fresh water. He had carried it with him throughout his ordeal. He gave it to me as a token of gratitude-and at the same time suggested that we ought to start a game of "craps." It would have been interesting to learn this favorite game of American seamen, but we were then too occupied, unfortunately, with the rescue work. The cup, however, has been a treasured part of my household ever since.