THE RANGITANE STORY

In January 1964 on a fishing trip in the remote Crocodile Bay 90 miles north of Rockhampton in Queensland Australia, a teenager came across something wedged in the rocks. It was a section of a ship's lifebelt, evidently old and long forgotten. But quite clearly legible in faded large red letters was the ship's name - RANGITANE.

Nobody in the Rockhampton area could remember a boat called Rangitane. But the people of Townsville further up the Queensland coast remembered a story from the dark days of the Second World War, 24 years earlier. It was one of Australia's early introductions to the realities of war and its effect on ordinary people. It was a story that started 2000 miles away in Auckland, New Zealand and, as it turns out, ended in those rocks in Crocodile Bay.

Barry Close who found the lifebelt

The RMS (Royal Mail Ship) Rangitane was built on the Upper Clyde, Glasgow as hull number 522 by John Brown & Co. Ltd. and launched on Monday 27th May 1929. She was one of three sister 'Rangi' ships built for the London registered New Zealand Shipping Company (NZSC) - the others were the Rangitiki and Rangitata; individually they were nick-named Tane, Tiki and Tata. Each was 16,700 tons and could carry nearly 600 passengers, 200 crew and substantial cargo and all were built specifically for England-New Zealand run. They had twin propellers powered by Brown Sulzer diesel engines with a total output of 9,300HP.

An NZSC ship departed every fourth Thursday for New Zealand making the journey in 35 days via the Panama canal. Each ship operated a regular cycle of 20 weeks between departures from London. Following five weeks at sea, it took four weeks to offload and load cargo in New Zealand, five weeks to return and six weeks to offload and reload cargo in England for the next round trip. In normal service the Rangitane could carry 100 first-class passengers, 80 second-class and 410 third-class. She had been re-fitted in 1935, particularly to increase her refrigeration capacity to carry more dairy and meat products. The service ran regularly from 1929 until 1939, initially leaving from Plymouth but from the mid-1930's from the King George V dock in the east end of London. The NZSC was represented in the UK by J B Westray & Co Ltd who had their offices at 138 Leadenhall Street near Blackwall pier from where their sailing ships departed at the end of the previous century. After the outbreak of war, when the mouth of the Thames had been mined and London was within range of enemy bombers, departures were transferred to Liverpool. The war curtailed the regular service but the Rangi ships continued to sail under requisition to the War Department. This often included the familiar trips to New Zealand but also involved the dreaded Atlantic run operating as troop ships.

Rangitane's final journey

The Rangitane had sailed from Liverpool to Wellington in September 1940. The start of the journey had been disrupted. They had sailed at 6.30am on 25th September to meet up with convoy OB219, but were ordered to return to Liverpool to discharge some of its passengers. These were 113 children and their escorts who were being evacuated under a government scheme organised by the Children's Overseas Reception Board - commonly referred to as CORB. The scheme was intended to evacuate children from British cities suffering the Blitz to Canada, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand. The scheme had been operating throughout the summer of 1940 until 17th September when the City of Benares was torpedoed and sunk on its way to Canada. On board were 90 child evacuees, 77 of whom died, together with six of the ten CORB escorts. When news reached the British public there was a huge outcry and a week of political dithering.  Some evacuee ships were allowed to sail, some were not. The Rangitane had already sailed with CORB Batch Z3 of 113 children on the morning of 25th September but was recalled that same day. The situation was so sensitive that the Rangitane was escorted the short way back to Liverpool by HMS Winchelsea, a long range escort destroyer, and the children were eventually returned to their homes.

Blackwall Pier

In the Panama canal

Rangitane in Auckland harbour

SS Batory - transported CORB children

About two hours after the Rangitane started her journey, a dramatic series of events was unfolding just off the Chatham Islands, a group of islands 400 miles to the east of New Zealand. The 247 ton coastal steamer Holmwood had set sail at 2.30am on the same morning from Waitangi on the Chathams for Lyttleton on the mainland. She was built in 1911 by the Goole Shipbuilding Company on the Humber river in Britain and had originally been named Tees. She had only recently been bought, extensively refurbished and renamed by the Holm Shipping Company of Wellington and was on only her second trip from the Chathams. The Holmwood was carrying 29 passengers and crew, including four women and four children, 1370 sheep, two dogs and a horse. The horse is important: it was being tended and fed by one of the crew who, had he been on watch, would have seen three sinister vessels appearing over the horizon behind and bearing down on the Holmwood. As it was, the Holmwood was captured at 7.20 am by three German surface raiders disguised as Japanese ships without any attempt at resistance. When the Holmwood's captain told Mrs McMahon, one of the passengers who was suffering badly with sea-sickness that they had been caught by the Germans, she simply said "Who cares?"

SS Holmwood

Komet disguised as Japanese ship Manyo Maru

Komet's 6" gun hidden behind false superstructure

As soon as the Komet's boarding party had taken control of the Holmwood, all four ships set off on a course of 010º to try to clear the Chatham Islands to mainland shipping lane. It was not until 9.15 am the Holmwood stopped and Captain Miller and his crew and passengers were transferred to the Komet where they settled down to an unknown fate. Six year old Julia McMahon, daughter of the Chatham Island's postmaster and wireless operator was the youngest of the prisoners of war. Eyssen recorded his opinion that his prisoners would probably enjoy their journey much more on the Komet than sharing the Holmwood with "stinking sheep!" There then followed welcome additions to the raiders' stores: the Komet received 100 sheep, canned food, fruit and vegetables, together with the Holmwood's radio, copies of radio transmissions and a number of navigation charts and code books. The Orion received 200 live sheep and the Kulmerland 19 already slaughtered sheep. Each of the three raiders took a Holmwood lifebelt as a memento of the event. Eyssen considered commandeering the Holmwood to become a minelayer but at a speed of 8 to 9 knots, she would not be able to keep up with the other raiders. He therefore decided to use the Holmwood for live target practice - the first time his gunners had had the opportunity to display their skills since leaving Germany. The Komet was positioned just over a mile away and attacked the Holmwood with the 6" starboard guns. Eyssen recorded that the range-finding was not good and the distance had to be reduced to less than half a mile before a successful hit below the water line was achieved. It took 30 minutes to finally despatch the Holmwood to her grave, by which time the raiders could smell the stench of burning sheep carcasses.

Eyssen recorded his delight at having his first victim. The lack of any success had clearly been preying on his mind after so long at sea. "The spell is broken" he wrote in his diary. "I have had the patience to wait... the crew are clearly inspired.... this was not a large victim, but it is the beginning I wanted."

In fact the German commanders could not believe how easily they had captured the Holmwood. They later told the Holmwood captives that the raiders had been lying in wait for the steamer in order to replenish its supply of fresh meat. This implied that the raiders had known exactly when the Holmwood would be sailing and where it was sailing to. The war memoirs of the Komet's and Orion's commanders make no reference to knowing the intended movements of the Holmwood but rumours and speculation among the captives were rife. Eyssen's diary recorded that his prize crew had captured 23 navigation charts, lighthouse identifications, code books, radio sets, cameras and instructions on wartime procedures, particularly on radio transmissions. He recorded in particular the capture of the 'Bentley Complete Phrase Code' and realised that he would be able to de-code relatively low security radio telegrams. The Bentley code was an American system that had been in use since the First World War and enabled commercial organisations, shipping companies and their agents to communicate in code, albeit a code known to everybody with access to the Bentley code book. As well as giving a low level of security, it was also used at a time when the cost of radio telegrams was calculated by the number or words in the message. By using codes for standard messages, shipping companies could save on their telegram costs. It is probable that the Holmwood would have communicated with its agents on the Chathams and in Lyttleton in Bentley code and may have done so before leaving the Chathams on the morning of the 25th November. It is known that the British Phosphate Commissioners who operated the phosphate trade at Nauru, the raiders' destination, used the Bentley code. It seems unlikely that the raiders already knew about Bentley code: why else would Eyssen have recorded the capture of the code book? However, the raiders' claims that they had known about the Holmwood caused considerable disquiet among the prisoners and rumour and counter-rumour long after the event resulted in an official inquiry into the allegations.

Eyssen was particularly pleased at having captured the British Admiralty's instructions to merchant shipping on wartime procedures. He recorded that allied ships were required to sail a zigzag course unless visibility was less than two miles. Every ship was also required to report suspicious vessels and there were detailed instructions on revocation of raider warning messages. It was well known that after ships had transmitted warning messages, German raiders would transmit a false message pretending to revoke or cancel the warning. Eyssen learnt that a special signal had to be coded (now thought to be in BAMS code) and transmitted to prove that it was a genuine revocation of a warning. Eyssen even recorded that his radio officers successfully decoded copies of Bentley coded radio messages found on the Holmwood, but failed to decode BAMS messages. They had clearly been given some assistance by Mr McMahon, one of the Holmwood passengers who was the postmaster and radio operator on the Chathams who advised Eyssen that anything coded in BAMS indicated that it was connected with naval operations.

The 1941 inquiry considered the circumstances surrounding the capture of the Holmwood and a number of allied ships. It looked carefully at how much sensitive information could be gained and much was made of the copies of radio transmissions found on the Holmwood. No conclusion was reached by the inquiry about whether the raiders had prior knowledge of ship movements. It still seems surprising that the raiders had seen no ships for nearly three weeks yet, in that time, 18 ships had arrived in, and 12 ships had departed from, Wellington and Auckland unobserved. It also seems remarkable how, less than 48 hours later, the raiders found the Rangitane two hours before dawn in open ocean 300 miles east of New Zealand and how the raiders managed to find and sink seven allied ships over a 13 day period. Geoffrey Barley, an Engineer on the Rangitane commented after the war that he had sailed across the Pacific many times before and had never seen another ship on those journeys. The raiders were extraordinarily lucky or extraordinarily well informed.

The prisoners were introduced to their new home. Eyssen had a long talk with Captain Miller who, Eyssen recorded, made a very favourable impression on him. Miller was told that he would be responsible for the conduct and tidiness of the prisoners and that no personal possessions would be confiscated. Eyssen also told Miller that everybody would be accommodated in bunks, would receive the same food as the crew and the women and children would even have deck chairs to sit in when they were allowed on deck.

In his wartime memoirs, the Orion's captain, Kurt Weyher said that the captured sheep caused quite a stir: after the initial diversion of sheep-back racing by the Orion's crew around her decks, he said that it took two days to slaughter and butcher the sheep. After eight months at sea the crew were delighted to have the fresh mutton, but in the following days the meat became somewhat monotonous and finally became an abhorrence. This is in contrast to some of the subsequent captives' reports that said that the meagre rations that they had to endure were the same that the crew had.

Rangitane's last day

Monday 25^th and Tuesday 26^th on the Rangitane passed without incident. Life was typical of a passenger liner - plenty of deck games and activities for the passengers to explore. The CORB escorts had enjoyed an unexpected holiday in New Zealand while waiting to join a ship for the return journey to England. In November it was early summer but the weather was still chilly. They had been entertained by officials and families in and around Wellington - even having morning tea and cakes in Government House with the Prime Minister. On a trip along the coast it was pure coincidence that they saw their beloved Batory sailing away in her newly painted convoy livery, laden with troops going to war and closely shadowed by HMNZS Achilles. The Batory was to sail to Melbourne to make up a convoy with the troopships SS Strathmore and SS Stratheden, all of which would eventually arrive safely in Egypt.

The CORB escorts had visited local tourist sights and travelled to a traditional Maori village, buying mementoes which they later used to decorate their cabins on the Rangitane, vying with each other as to who could have the best looking cabin. But the holiday cruise life on board had a darker side because of the ever-present dangers of war. In the first two days the passengers and crew carried out two lifeboat drills, little knowing that soon they would be putting the practice into real action. For the CORB escorts the boat drills were completely different to those on the Batory. This time they only had themselves and their own lifebelts to tie up; on the Batory they had hundreds of over-excited children to worry about. The lifeboat drills instructed the passengers on the warning they would receive should it be necessary to abandon ship and the location of their allocated lifeboats. Everybody, crew and passengers alike had prepared a 'panic-bag' containing essentials in the event of emergency evacuation. The officers on the bridge were blissfully unaware that three German raiders were already converging on their course. On the night of Tuesday 26^th November 1940, Captain Upton handed control of his Tane over to Mr. Williams, his Second Officer, before retiring to his bunk.

At 3.35 on the morning of Wednesday the 27^th the lookout in the crow's nest reported a strange ship with no lights crossing the Rangitane's bows from port to starboard about half a mile away. Almost immediately another lookout reported another ship on the port beam. Such an occurrence was completely out of the ordinary and Williams called Captain Upton who went to the bridge with his uniform over his pyjamas. Williams had also rung the engine room to warn them of imminent manoeuvring and the engineering watch officer immediately rang the breakdown bell to call the engine room crew from their bunks to their stations. When Upton had gained his night-eyes he saw three ships: he knew that there no armed merchant ships in the Pacific so guessed that they were German raiders who had until then been working individually in the Tasman Sea area laying mines and harassing shipping off the New Zealand coast.  Upton then told Hoppy Hopkins, Upton's First Officer, to get all hands on deck and to man the Rangitane guns. Upton mused that the gun with its allocation of only 20 shells would only last about 20 minutes. He decided not to return fire if he was attacked, deciding that Rangitane could withstand a certain amount of damage. He also decided not to give the emergency signal to the passengers because the evacuation meeting point was the public room on the lifeboat deck, immediately adjacent to the radio room which would be a prime target for the raiders' gunners.  He told Hopkins that on no account was the gun to open fire until he had given a clear order and then to fire amidships at the nearest ship.

One of the ships signalled by lamp in morse code for the Rangitane to stop and for the radio not to be used; Upton and his officers were too busy to read the message. Following Admiralty standing orders, Captain Upton ordered a QQQQ radio signal to be sent - a standard 'suspicious vessel' message. As soon as the Radio Officer started sending the QQQQ message the raiders immediately tried to jam the transmission, switched on searchlights and started shelling the Rangitane. The radio officer tried to send an RRRR message - the standard 'raider attack' message. At only half a mile distance the Rangitane didn't stand a chance: one of the first shells hit the radio mast before the RRRR message had been sent. Captain Upton knew that it was imperative that the authorities should be told that the Rangitane was under attack, so the emergency radio transmitter was brought into action while valves in the main radio were replaced. It was later learned that one of the raiders had difficulty finding a range because the searchlight was reflected by the rain and drizzle. That same raider, which had been dogged by persistent mechanical problems, found that its steering engine had jammed and it was only able to sail directly towards the Rangitane. Captain Upton rang down to the engine room for maximum power and ordered the ship to starboard to present the stern to the raider that he thought posed the greatest danger and to try to make a run for it. In the engine room the crew were still unaware of the seriousness of what was happening outside and were surprised at the urgent demands being placed on the engines. In his personal account, Captain Upton said that the Rangitane decided that she did not like the Germans because she suddenly turned towards one of the raiders and proceeded at 17 knots on a collision course, a speed never previously achieved, even on trials. Upton said that she obviously thought better of it and started circling again. The Quartermaster at the wheel then reported that the Rangitane was not answering her helm: her steering mechanism had obviously been damaged.

Mr. Hallett, the radio officer, finally confirmed that New Zealand radio stations had received and were re-transmitting the raider attack message and Captain Upton ordered his ship to be stopped, the ensign to be lowered and the Radio Officer to stop transmitting. He was aware that there was already extensive damage and that there were fires on decks A to E and that he had lost steering capability. He then signalled the raiders that there were women on board and that he was stopping the Rangitane. There followed a frantic attempt to collect and destroy any secret or incriminating documents and to collect personal items and warm clothes before abandoning ship. But the shelling continued and Upton later recorded that this really annoyed him. He said that he wanted to take a shot at the raiders, ordered full speed again and tried to telephone the gunners to open fire, only to find that telephone on the gun platform had been destroyed. The shelling suddenly stopped and Upton ordered that the Rangitane had to be abandoned.

Third Electrician Jack Almond later recounted how vital parts of the Rangitane's engines were destroyed with sledgehammers to ensure that the Germans didn't try to take the ship as a war prize. Captain Upton's actions were praised by the 1941 official inquiry into the whole episode. The only minor criticism was that it transpired that Rangitane's guns had been under a protective cover: had Captain Upton been in a position to retaliate, he would have been delayed while the guns were uncovered.

The shelling started at 3.47 a.m. and ended at 3.59 a.m. From just a few minutes' shelling there were dead and injured scattered through the decks. Five passengers, all CORB evacuee escorts, and five crew died in a short space of time, either from direct injury or from drowning. In the following days and weeks another three passengers and three crew members died on the raiders from their injuries - 16 in total. One of the CORB escorts killed was 44 year old Doris Beeston from Grange, Australia. She had won a scholarship to a social welfare course in London where she was studying on the outbreak of war. She offered to escort the evacuees to Australia on condition that she could return to London and continue her studies. Another CORB escort to die was 27 year old James Dixon from Kelburn, Wellington. He was quite a well known sportsman in Wellington and had gone to England to work for the Ministry of Labour, creating work opportunities for children from deprived areas. He volunteered as a CORB escort and had travelled from Australia to New Zealand to see his family before returning to England on the Rangitane. Elsie Davies, a 29 year old Baptist clergyman's wife from north London was killed. She was reported as having a university agree and had always been laughing and joking with her evacuees on the Batory. She was particularly remembered for her use of a well known slogan at the time: "Careless talk costs lives" she would say sternly if she heard her children talking after lights-out. Andrew Tocher, a 57 year old retired bank manager from Scotland was killed: he had been an elder of the Church of Scotland. One of the crew to die was Francis Pithers from Gillingham in Kent: at just 16 years old he was a steward's boy on the Rangitane.

The port deck containing the CORB escorts' cabins bore the brunt of the attack. The escorts were all volunteers who had offered their services as their contribution to the war effort. When they had been sailing from Liverpool to Australia on the Batory with their 477 evacuees, it had been impressed upon them to keep their cabin doors fixed open at all times to prevent them becoming jammed shut under attack. They had also been told that they and their children must stay below decks in the event of an attack and only to go on deck if expressly told to do so by somebody in authority. When the first shells hit the Rangitane, the cabins disintegrated but the escorts dutifully stayed in the smoke and dust. The elegant stairway from the dining-room, the centrepiece signifying the elegant age of ocean cruising, had been completely demolished. In addition to those killed outright, many of the others sustained injury. One, Miss Matthews, a nursing home nurse from Devon had lost an arm, most of the others had wounds of varying degrees. One woman, Florence Mundie, a nursing Sister in inside cabin 61 on C deck had horrific facial injuries and had most of her clothes burnt off. Had it not been for an engineer and the chief officer who quickly got her into a boiler suit and into a boat, she would have perished in the Rangitane. Fortunately Florence was to survive well into her 80s despite her horrific injuries. Una Scott in cabin C62 across the corridor from Florence but nearer the port side was not so lucky - she was killed instantly. The CORB dentist, Mrs Sutcliffe-Hey and known to everybody as 'SH' had a miraculous escape. Her cabin on C deck collapsed and she fell one complete deck into the first class dining room. Although injured and dazed she was quickly rescued.

The injured were taken to the passenger lounge where they were given first-aid. Stewards and cooks became comforters; the fit helped the injured. Elizabeth Plumb, a 59 year old stewardess in the first class accommodation who had joined the Rangitane in 1938 tended many of the wounded until they reached a raider. Although badly wounded herself, she refused treatment until the others had been attended to. It was not until she fainted from loss of blood did the German doctors realise the seriousness of her wounds from shrapnel and it was mid-day when they operated on her. Her husband had been killed 20 years previously in an accident and she had been left to bring up four children by herself. She was later awarded the British Empire Medal, as were ship's cook William Francis and deck mechanic John Walker who were commended for their bravery in rescuing survivors.

Evacuation of the Rangitane

Just as dawn was breaking, motor launches containing prize crews were despatched from the raiders. It is clear that there was a race between the prize crews to get to the Rangitane first. The Orion's captain noted in his diary his frustration that his prize crew had been delayed by a rope fouling the launch's propeller. The German sailors ordered the immediate evacuation of the Rangitane: they were clearly aware that the raider warning message had been successfully transmitted and wanted to leave the area as quickly as possible. The crew and passengers grabbed their panic-bags and warm clothes and took to the lifeboats, some of which had already been damaged by earlier shellfire. Two officers clutched sextants, radio officer James Ward cradled his prized typewriter while others managed to conceal their ships' chronometers and personal cameras. Although all these items were later confiscated, it is surprising that everything was eventually returned to their rightful owners. Third Engineer Colwell unscrewed the engine room clock, put it in his panic bag and then forgot to take it with him to the lifeboat while Geoffrey Barley made sure that he had his baby panda lucky mascot in his bag. The mascot obviously worked for Barley - he survived the ordeal and went on to become a captain after the war. Father Ball later recounted how he must have been totally confused when he went back into his cabin to recover only his travelling clock, discarding other considerably more useful items.

Young German seamen supervised the evacuation - the first time most of the passengers and crew had come literally face to face with their enemy. Nobody experienced any form of brutality: the Germans were doing their job in a professional and humane manner - something which would become even more apparent in the following days. The behaviour and attitude of the passengers and crew was exemplary, each waiting their turn to board lifeboats without panic or outward anguish. Passengers were shepherded by the crew in a most professional manner: Captain Upton later recorded how proud he was to have been in command of such a magnificent party of people. One survivor described the scene as being like a church parade with people moving slowly and talking only in whispers. In reality it is likely that pure shock at the dramatic change of circumstance had stunned everybody into private thought and personal anguish. The passengers had been allocated to lifeboat stations in alphabetical order.  Margaret Osborne, one of the CORB escorts said afterwards that she was distraught when she realised that while she would be in lifeboat 4, while Susan Clothier, her cabin-mate and close friend, would be on lifeboat 10.  As it turned out, both lifeboats were directed to the same raider. It was unfortunate that, even in the hour of danger to all, the two first class passengers felt that their position should command priority in the lifeboats.

The last three people to leave the Rangitane were Captain Upton, the Chief Engineer and the Chief Officer. It was poignant that Second Engineer Edgar and Fourth Engineer Hodgeson had been asked to go back to the engine room and shut down the generators: it was as if Captain Upton wanted the lights turned out and doors closed before leaving his Tane for the last time.

There was quite a deep swell in the sea and the survivors were eager to get their lifeboats away from the Rangitane in case she suddenly sank. The lifeboats were powered by a patent hand-cranked propeller: no skill was required to operate hand levers and anybody could propel the boats. Tom Newland, one of the Fleet Air Arm recruits, was on lifeboat number 10 which was launched successfully but a rope had fouled the propeller. He spent many cold minutes diving underwater, trying to remove the rope. One of the crew then tried but gave up when a raider launch took them in tow. Father Ball, a CORB escort, wrote that on his lifeboat they found rum and cigarettes: after helping themselves they threw the majority of the cigarettes overboard so they wouldn't fall into the hands of the Germans - an action they bitterly regretted a few weeks later when tobacco was in short supply.  Father Ball also said that he was ignominiously sea-sick on the short journey to the raider.

Looking back at the Rangitane she was clearly badly ablaze, listing slightly and it is was obvious that she would not survive the attack. Lifeboat number 8 still hung on its davits - its side shattered by the shelling. The raiders' launches looked menacing because each had a manned machinegun amidships; worries of being killed in the lifeboats were compounded when some of the gunners opened fire, but in the noise and confusion it was the only way that the captors could 'persuade' each lifeboat to move towards a specified raider. Lifeboat number 11 was full and carried many of the RNZAF men and Florence Mundie who had the facial injuries. None of them realised that the lifeboat had been holed by shrapnel and it started sinking. The men started baling but could not stem the flow and reluctantly most of the able-bodied decided to swim for it. The lifeboat was nearly swamped and Florence tried to get out but was pulled back by young Reg Moore, a smoking room steward who struggled to keep her head above water. Finally a launch from Komet arrived and its crew dragged the survivors aboard. Florence found two other serious casualties on the launch - two brothers Fred and Sam Strickfuss who worked in the Rangitane engine room with their father. The Komet launch then gave tow to another lifeboat clearly in difficulties - it also had been swamped. Friends helping Miss Matthews in her lifeboat feared for her life: her arm was completely shattered and she was losing blood too quickly. Thanks to the work of the German doctors, Miss Matthews' life was saved, but she lost her arm.

Captain Upton together with his Chief Engineer and Chief Officer were towed towards the Komet while the majority of the engineering officers were sent to the Kulmerland. Able Seaman Ron Smith was in charge of another lifeboat that was directed to the Orion, while the Second Officer Williams was in control of another boat heading for the Kulmerland. Those survivors who were injured or were carrying bulky personal items found it difficult to climb aboard the raiders from lifeboats rising and falling in the swell. Some of the women suffered rough handling to get them on board quickly but accepted that it was a better alternative than being abandoned to the sea. Some of the Rangitane crew were clearly the worse for drink: Geoffrey Barley recorded that some of the crew had mysteriously acquired bottles of whisky, while Captain Eyssen wrote in his diary that several people were fortified with alcohol. Captain Weyher of the Orion claimed that he plied some of the air force men with alcohol to loosen their tongues and learn about the New Zealand air defences. Barley also commented that many of the survivors wore their habitual smile while others looked just as miserable as they did normally!

Those who had died in the lifeboats were covered and the lifeboats scuttled. The Kulmerland hoisted two lifeboats onto its deck - Eyssen wrote in his diary "Pschunder" (Kulmerland's captain) "has started collecting boats!" Had the Rangitane been captured undamaged she would have been a valuable asset to the Germans. One German officer on the Kulmerland later confessed his disappointment at not being able to take a prize crew and sail the Rangitane and its 14,000 tons of cargo back to Germany. The damage was too great; nearly three hours after the first attack, fires had started in the cargo holds. After completing their search, the prize crew opened the sea cocks and the Rangitane started to list slightly to port. But the Germans were aware that the raider warning may have been received and it would only take a few hours before planes would reach the scene. They were anxious to leave quickly and to destroy all evidence of their presence. The Rangitane was despatched by a single torpedo from Komet, listing quickly to port and finally disappearing under the waves at 6.30am to settle at 4,300 fathoms. Thankfully, none of the Rangitane survivors saw her sink. They had all been taken below decks and were busy assessing the surroundings that were to be their home for the foreseeable future. Those taken to the Komet were surprised to find 29 New Zealanders, including women and children, from the Holmwood already in residence. Those taken to the Orion found over 60 sailors from the Ringwood and Turakina sunk in the previous months.

The raider warning messages had certainly been received by the authorities in New Zealand and caused an immediate alert. All shipping was warned to stay at least 200 miles away from the Rangitane's reported position. The HMNZS Achilles, New Zealands's most famous warship and a key player in the battle of the River Plate, was lying in Lyttleton being re-painted. She was a Leander class light cruiser with a maximum speed of 32 knots. Many of its crew were due to go on long leave a few days later but the chance of catching some German raiders made up for the disappointment of having their leave cancelled. The Achilles cleared harbour just after 8am and made 25 knots northwards. Not to be outdone, the MV Puriri had her engines re-assembled specially to join the search, leaving Auckland at 7pm. The flying boats Aotearoa and Awarua joined in, as did the MV Monowai. The first on the scene was the Aotearoa at about 2.30pm, only to find deck furniture and the debris of the shelling floating in a huge expanse of oil. There was no sign of the Rangitane, its survivors, or of its aggressors. The Achilles arrived at dawn on the next day to see an 18 square mile oil slick dotted with butter boxes and red and white lifebelts. Despite extended searches by aircraft, they did not see the raiders. However, the raiders saw one search aircraft momentarily at about 6pm and were amazed that they had not been spotted. It was the first major alert on the raiders and many of the prisoners had mixed feelings - their lives would have been at risk for the second time that day if the aircraft attacked. As it turned out, the aircraft turned away, much to the disgust of Mr and Mrs Stuart, the only first class passengers. Mr Stuart was so incensed at what he saw as a scandal that he later reported the incident to the security services and said that whoever was responsible for not taking action on the sighting "should be placed under control for the duration of the war." The 1941 official inquiry quite firmly rejected Mr Stuart's outbursts.

The German raiders

So started the survivors' first day as prisoners on enemy ships. What was immediately obvious was that each ship had been designed to accommodate prisoners of war. The cargo holds on the Komet and Orion had been turned into barrack-type rooms, some with bunks lining the walls and bulkheads. There was a plentiful supply of hammocks, new mugs and plates - many still showing signs of their original packaging and quite evidently supplied in Japan. But other things were clearly in short supply - fresh water for washing and, more seriously, nutritious food. Prison life was also different on the three ships, possibly a reflection of the attitude of the captains and their crew.

Komet

Robert Eyssen, Captain of the Komet

Kurt Weyher, the commander of the Orion, saw considerably more action than Eyssen. His ship was larger at 7,021 tons and had been built in 1930 as the freighter Kurmark of the Hamburg-Amerika Line, commonly known at the Hapag line. She was converted into a raider at the beginning of 1940 with the same armament as the Komet. But Orion had one major problem - her engines had been salvaged from Hapag's passenger liner called New York and they became a constant source of aggravation over Orion's 16 month tour of duty. Weyher was 39 when he took command of Orion, leaving Germany at the beginning of April 1940 and proving over the summer months that he was a formidable commander. He disguised his ship as Dutch, Russian, Greek and Japanese and succeeded in sinking six ships and laying mines that were to claim another six ships. By the time that Orion met up with Komet and Kulmerland in October at Lamutrik, Weyher was already a seasoned commander. It must have been frustrating to have to operated in the company of Eyssen, a superior officer, with whom he clearly had difficulties, and not to have any enemy action between mid-October and the time they found the Holmwood and Rangitane. The impression gained is that Eyssen's age and rank made him more tolerant and amenable to the prisoners' needs whereas the humourous but volatile Weyher was still a rising star and may have felt the need to impose his authority on his ship and his prisoners. There is evidence that when Weyher disagreed with Eyssen, he made sure that German naval command were aware of the differences. Although the Orion was temporarily named Maebasi Maru, that name was never shown on her: she was painted a sinister black and was to become known as the 'Black Raider.' Orion is sometimes referred to as Narvik. This is incorrect: Orion's sister ship Widder, which was also a successful surface raider, often adopted the disguise of the Norwegian vessel Narvik.

Orion

Kurt Weyher, Captain of the Orion

Kulmerland off Emirau

Prisoner life on the raiders

The survivors had been distributed randomly between the three ships. Captain Upton and his senior officers were on Komet, together with 12 RNZAF men and many of the women prisoners; most of the engineering and radio officers were on Kulmerland, and Orion had many of the seamen, stewards and Polish stewardesses from the Batory. Everybody was forced below decks and the Germans' first objective was to get away from the Rangitane's last reported position. The first day allowed the prisoners to take stock of their predicament. While some of the passengers and crew had sufficient time to grab their panic bags and a few suitable clothes, the CORB escorts, whose cabins had taken the brunt of the initial attack, were far from suitably dressed and had to use some ingenuity to improvise clothes and footwear. Other people found that they had forgotten or mislaid spectacles or false teeth. Few had such basic necessities as tooth brushes and combs. Personal hygiene was not helped by the lack of fresh water for washing: each of the women was given a small bar of soap which, they were told, had to last one month. Little did they realise that the lack of washing water would mean that the soap would last more than a month. While these privations were bad enough, the biggest problem was the food. A daily diet of thin soup, glutinous rice or macaroni, ersatz coffee and stale black bread did nothing for morale. In hindsight, the lack of nutritious food seems strange bearing in mind that so many sheep had been captured from the Holmwood only two days earlier. The fact that everybody was in the same predicament was a source of wry amusement: the previous evening on the Rangitane, the first class steward had been obsequiously serving dinner to Mr and Mrs Stuart, the only two first class passengers who had already proved their contempt of people not of their class. Now, Mr Stuart had to share a meagre bowl of rice with that same steward, spooning it with bamboo sticks picked off the deck, while Mrs Stuart was frequently cut down to size, mainly by the Polish stewardesses from the Batory. As one of the passengers noted: adversity is a great equaliser. The Orion's Captain Weyher noted that his most difficult prisoners were the Polish stewardesses: initially they bluntly refused any form of co-operation, expecting to be waited upon and scorning the normal daily routine.

During the afternoon of the first day, Wednesday 27th November, the two Strickfuss brothers on Komet died from their injuries. Fred Strickfuss was 20 and Sam Strickfuss was 27. They were both Greasers in the engine-room where their father, also called Samuel, worked with them as a Donkeyman. The father had witnessed his sons' injuries and helped them into their lifeboat. He then went to his assigned lifeboat and, as fate had it, was directed to a different raider to his sons. At about 6pm the Komet stopped and the Strickfuss boys' bodies, draped in a Union Jack, were escorted by a German NCO and six of the Komet's crew, all in formal dress. Captain Upton and First Officer Ernest Hopkins were allowed to be present to witness what Captain Eyssen called a "short but solemn seaman's funeral." 

The first days were very different on the three ships. On the Orion, Captain Weyher's crew formally interviewed their new captives individually. They were intent on finding out as much as possible about other ships in New Zealand, their ports of call, the route to be taken by the Rangitane, etc. In his memoirs, Weyher said that useful documents had been found on the Rangitane concerning the defensive measures taken by Australia and New Zealand to counter the threat of the raiders and even claimed to have found information on the swept channel out of Auckland. Although most valuables and personal possessions were taken away, everybody received receipts. It was reported that secret microphones had been installed in the areas holding the prisoners and that conversations were being recorded. Rumour obviously led to paranoia: there was some concern among some of the Orion prisoners that the Polish men from the Batory were becoming too familiar with their captors, particularly those who spoke and shared confidences in German. All sorts of fifth columnist rumours started and later became sensationalised by the Australian press. When referring to the two Polish seamen who were alleged to have been deserters, one press report said that they had deliberately not blacked-out the porthole of their cabin on the Rangitane. They were alleged to have been awake, fully dressed with their bags packed as if they were expecting the attack and had given a nazi salute and welcomed the German prize crew as friends, speaking in fluent German. The first days on the two other ships were more relaxed: the captives were allowed to keep their personal possessions and there was little attempt at interrogation, but everybody began to realise that the lack of food would be their biggest problem. As usually happens at such times, the more comic of the captives resorted to song, composing a tribute to the food to the tune of 'The Quartermaster's Stores':

"There was rice, rice, rice full of lice,

In the stores, the German raider's stores;

There was bread, bread, like lumps of lead,

In the stores, the German raider's stores;

My eyes are dim, I cannot see,

I left my specs on the Rangitane,

I left my specs on the Rangitane!"

The most senior ranking British seaman on the Orion was the Purser, Edward Maugham and he initially assumed the role as the prisoners' commander and spokesman. Father Ball recalled that Maugham "did not have the qualities required and there was an evident unwillingness to acknowledge his authority." Maugham was replaced by somebody who Father Ball described as a most unlikely candidate but soon proved his capability. Although Father Ball did not name the person he said that there was an allegation that he was a naval rating on his way back to England as a passenger to face a court-martial. It is possible (but as yet unproved) that this person could have been B. G. Fitzsimons.

Most of the survivors knew that there had been injuries and fatalities during the engagement. One of the CORB escorts wrote later how surprised she was at the medical facilities that were available on all three raiders and how dedicated the German medical crew were. In fact, those CORB escorts who were nurses started a shift system to provide continuous care for the injured. But not everybody survived the care. Elinor Herbert-Jones was a 21 year old CORB escort who received serious back and chest wounds. She was the youngest escort on the Batory and had evidently stolen a few hearts during the journey to Australia. But she was totally committed to her job, saying "Love me, love my evacuees." Seriously injured, she had been taken to the Orion and underwent intensive care but died on the following day. Another CORB escort, Sister Rosalie Golding was asked by the Germans to lay out Elinor's body ready. While Elinor's friends and colleagues were distraught, they were amazed when they found that there was to be a formal burial at sea. Just as daylight was fading and Captain Weyher thought it safe to stop, the survivors were led onto the deck to find a parade of about 150 of the Orion's crew, all smartly presented in their white uniforms, their black cap bands fluttering in the evening breeze. In front of them were the officers, immaculate in dress uniform and gloves. 

The female prisoners were offered chairs while the men stood to the side. Rosalie Golding recorded later that they resolutely refused to sit: she wrote "We women felt we were British and we would stand." Looking up, the prisoners contemplated an anachronism: the German swastika flying at half-mast. Resting on the side rail was Elinor's bier, lying on a Union Jack and draped with a Red Ensign. The poignancy of the occasion was clearly not lost on anybody. Captain Weyher approached the funeral party, saluted the prisoners and presented a long and passionate oration in German, obviously for the benefit of his own crew. One observer associated his style of presentation to that of Hitler. It had evidently been a very carefully prepared speech because an English translation was later circulated to the prisoners. It said:

In sharp contrast, there followed a quiet committal service from the Rev. Father Ball: he had to write out the service from memory and to submit it to Captain Weyher for approval. Captain Weyher then said "We shall now place the deceased in the hands of our element, the eternal sea, on which we shall continue to sail freely; that same sea has now become the fate of this woman." Elinor's body was then piped over the side, committed to the deep. The ship's loudspeaker broadcast a traditional German march "Ich hatt einen Kameraden" (I had a comrade.) The ship's company was dismissed with a 'Heil Hitler' salute from Captain Weyher.

The fact that Weyher had held a funeral ceremony is typical of the overall attitude of the Germans towards their prisoners. With only one dissention, the general opinion was that the captors showed as much respect and courtesy as was possible under the circumstances of war. The Rangitane officers reported that the German crew would always salute and remove their cap when they entered the prisoners' rooms and the women captives said that their captors would always remove their caps and bow respectfully. There were many reports of good humour and banter and many instances of personal good deeds carried out by crewmen. Overall, the Germans treated the survivors as unwanted guests and not as prisoners. There was only one report of ill-treatment which was roundly rejected by the official inquiry into the sinking of the Rangitane held in 1941: Mr Stuart, the first class passenger who did little to endear himself to either the Germans or his fellow prisoners, alleged that they were treated shockingly unless they made concessions to their captors. In a surprisingly blunt dismissal, particularly in view of Mr Stuarts position as a Judge, the inquiry concluded "... the account generally given of Mr Stuart by his fellow-captives conveys an unfavourable impression as to his accuracy and reliability." Many people who came into contact with the Stuarts did not hide their dislike for the way in which they demanded unconditional deference from the Germans and their own side. Margaret Osborne, one of the CORB escorts wrote in a letter:

Personal hygiene was clearly a major problem on the raiders and the majority made some attempt at maintaining some degree of dignity. Betsy Sandbach and Geraldine Edge, both CORB escorts described how, at a Sunday morning service conducted by a still clean-shaven Father Kelly, Mr Stuart laid throughout the service under a table, unshaven and clad only in dirty pyjamas while his wife, wearing only a night-shirt which did little to protect her modesty, kicked her husband at intervals to wake him up.

Margaret Osborne continued in her letter:

"These damned Stuarts for instance have caused enough trouble to fill a book. It is a bit thick when the German officer in charge of the prisoners has to order him to get his clothes washed (he was allowed to sleep in the cabin with his wife and not be taken below with the men) and to tell him that his wife was improperly dressed. She came off our ship fully dressed and she went around in a state which I should not like to have been seen in an entirely female community, and most certainly not in front of men and children. Disgusting beast."

One might have concluded that, without the servants normally at their command, the Stuarts were unable to maintain an acceptable level of decorum. But Osborne's comment about filling a book was most prophetic. Nearly 60 years later, the Stuarts' behaviour during their time in Tonga filled up a whole chapter in a book about the Queen Salote of Tonga by Elizabeth Wood-Ellem. She describes how, as Chief Justice, Chief Magistrate, Judge of Land Court, Privy Councillor and member of the Government in Parliament, he not only had no regard for others but  ".... failed to uphold the dignity of office, attending Supreme Court in dirty shorts and even dirtier shoes." After two years of a three year contract, the Stuarts had caused serious divisions at the highest levels in the Tonga government, legislature, culture and society. The reason that the Stuarts were on the Rangitane was because the Colonial Office had finally acceded to Queen Salote's continuing demands that Stuart be removed from office. Quite simply he had been sacked. Unfortunately, the Colonial Office closed ranks and cloaked his removal to such an extent that Stuart truly believed that his transfer to become Second Puisne Judge in British Guiana was a reward for his good work in Tonga.

With so much time on their hands, the prisoners entertained themselves as best they could. Some played cards - particularly cribbage, using cards and cribbage board that one popular crew member had the foresight to pack before evacuating the Rangitane. Others recounted stories or described the first meal they would order in a restaurant on their release. Somebody had rescued his accordian which was a mixed blessing because he only knew, and repeated many times, the same few tunes. Margaret Osborne penned a poem as a tribute to those who died during the attack:

Through the grey quiet of a November dawn

The Rangitane sails upon her homeward way,

When, suddenly, a shadow deep appears

And takes its shape in the uprising day.

Through the grey quiet of a November dawn

The Rangitane sails upon her homeward way,

When, suddenly, a shadow deep appears

And takes its shape in the uprising day.

A foreign ship! The bridge springs to life.

The Captain wakens from his well earned sleep.

A second ship has now appeared in view

Is it an enemy upon the ocean deep?

As soon as born, our fears turn certainties,

The wireless message which we try to send

Wakens the guns upon the savage foe

And with shrill cries, the call of wild voices blend.

The cruel shells piercing the ship's stout frame

Have daunted not one man's determined mind

To send that message - though it should cost their life

To save all men and ships who sail behind.

The ship manoeuvres to protect her guns,

Relentlessly the shells still pierce her side.

Below the passengers with quiet calm

In darkness, amidst roaring tumult glide.

At last, from fire, blast of flood and smoke

Respite is gained. There falls a sudden hush

The guns are silent. Strangest sounds are heard

Men's voices calling: waters suddenly rush.

The gurgling breathing of a dying girl

The joke upon the lips of one who is

Grievously wounded, even unto death,

And yet has light and laughter in her eyes.

At last the order "Take to the boats" rings out

Obediently with perfect calm, each one

Goes to his place: the boats swing out and down,

The ship now floats, afire, her duty done.

In her, our friends and loved ones find a grave

For England's love and England's life they died.

We left them there and prayed the mighty sea

Would welcome them - their earthly bodies hide.

We love them still - but cannot hold regret,

They would have chosen to make that sacrifice.

If they had known that their death could save

Others, freely would they have given their life.

For some it was death, others were prisoners taken,

Each, in his way, has survived his country's ends.

Again will do so as long as England needs

Ships and the sea. On these her life depends.

 Margaret Osborne was quite pleased with what she had written and asked Captain Upton whether he would be proud if she managed to get it published as a tribute to those who died. Captain Upton replied "Miss Osborne, I am very proud of it already. How much more proud I will be if you get it printed."

Back home in England, the New Zealand Shipping Company had received confirmation of Rangitane's loss:

All of the crew's families received received telegrams from the company confirming the sinking,  leaving relatively little hope of their survival. Frank Ellison's mother refused to accept that Frank was dead; she kept saying "We will hear from our Frank soon" - and she eventually did when a photograph of Frank in POW camp was organised and sent by the Red Cross in 1941. Johnny Thompson's grandmother remembered waking from a nightmare about Johnny in his pyjamas on a sinister black ship: this was before she had been told of the sinking and of Orion's nick-name of 'The Black Raider.' Johnny's family also received a photograph organised by the Red Cross.

The journey to Nauru

It became evident to the raider commanders that the prisoners were to be a problem. Not only had they picked up over 330 survivors in the last few days, there was the question of accommodating men and women separately. In the early afternoon of 29th November, in sight of the island of Raoul in the Kermadac islands, the three ships closed up and the captains went aboard the Kulmerland for a conference. It was decided that the prisoners had to be released as soon as possible on an island with food and water and sufficiently far away to delay their repatriation. It is evident that there was disagreement between Eyssen and Weyher about who should be released: Eyssen wanted to land everybody but Weyher only wanted to release non-Europeans and to transport the remainder back to POW camp in Germany. Weyher believed that the professional seamen knew too much about the raiders and, if released, would be able to give valuable information to the British authorities and could join the fight against Germany. It seems surprising that the famous German efficiency did not have formal policy on how to deal with such a situation! However, it was agreed that the raiders should head for the island of Nauru which was a major supplier of phosphates to Britain, attack any ships there and to release the prisoners. The plan was for Sparrow, Komet's plane to reconnoitre Nauru to find out which ships were there and to find a safe landing place for the prisoners.

The captains' choice of Nauru is interesting: although it was a major supplier of phosphates, there was also an old score to settle. Nauru had been invaded by the Germans in 1888 and incorporated into the German Marshall Islands. It was not until 1899 that the full impact of the phosphate reserves was assessed by a British prospecting company and full scale mining and export started soon after. Within a few months of the outbreak of World War I in 1914, Australia's first action was to re-take Nauru from the Germans which they did without a shot being fired in anger. While the three raiders would not be able to recapture the island for the Fatherland, at least they could leave it with a bloody nose as a token reprisal. Eyssen recorded his delight at having captured a 1932 version of the 'Pacific Islands Pilot' and a 1938 navigation chart on the Rangitane which would help him get to Nauru. Their plan was to reach Nauru by dawn on the 8th December.

Before setting off for Nauru it was decided to redistribute some of the prisoners between the three ships. As well as making it easier to accommodate all the women on one ship, it was considered more appropriate to put the women and children on the unarmed Kulmerland. Captain Eyssen was clearly uneasy about having women and children on his warship. Shortly after, motor launches transferred all but one of the women and children together with husbands and fathers to the Kulmerland and some of the Kulmerland men to the Komet. The engineering officers imprisoned on the Kulmerland were reunited with Captain Upton and his officers on the Komet. However, one woman had to remain on the Komet: Florence Mundie had been seriously injured in the face and needed the better medical attention available on the Komet. Eyssen said that the women and children were unhappy at moving to another ship, but the children particularly were persuaded with the help of a bar of chocolate each. The German captains also traded equipment.  Kulmerland received 35 bunks to accommodate the women and children in greater comfort while brand new plates, mugs and cutlery were shared between the other ships. Eyssen noted in his diary that he would need to tighten security to avoid rebellion now that he had a large number of young "fighting men" on his ship. The three raiders finally set off at 6pm on Friday 29th November, steering a course of 305º for Naurau.

During the journey to Nauru, Eyssen was able to evaluate properly the documents seized from the Holmwood and Rangitane. His diary records his delight at having found a copy of all admiralty instructions to merchant shipping between 27 August and the end of November 1939. "SKL" (German naval command) "will be pleased!" was recorded in his diary.

After the traumatic events of the previous few days life suddenly became quiet and repetitive for a week. The women on the Kulmerland, many of whom had been evacuated in their nightwear, kept themselves busy making new clothes. The crew on the Orion were busy changing the ship's disguise again: Orion's success in the previous months meant that too many survivors knew what she looked like. Earlier attempts at disguise had involved removing her forward masts so these were replaced with replicas made of matchboard and canvas. When Weyher decided on the Japanese Maebasi Maru disguise, nobody on Orion knew how to paint the name in Japanese characters. In desperation they even considered copying some script from a Kodak advert in a Japanese magazine, but wondering whether their ship would then be called "super-sensitive" or "exposure"! On Komet, Eyssen pondered a number of issues. He carried out a detailed analysis of the benefit of disrupting the Nauru phosphate trade, arguing that it would seriously affect agricultural production for the allies. He also lost Sparrow, his Arado plane, which sank. He did not appear too worried about it because it was only capable of being used for four days out of the previous eight weeks. Roy Poole, Rangitane's third officer, recalled in 1980 that the prisoners on Komet were woken at about 6am to martial music and entertained most evenings by records and Germany radio programmes broadcast over the ship's tannoy. While Lord Haw Haw's propaganda programmes were a source of wry amusement, the prisoners collapsed in hilarity when the Komet crew played records captured from the Rangitane - particularly when recordings of "Adolf - you have bitten off more than you can chew" and "Run rabbit" were played inadvertently. The Komet also published a typewritten news sheet called 'Wireless news for passengers' which gave the latest German version of the progress of the war.

On Thursday 5th December the three ships again stopped in the twilight and the captains met to review their strategy and arrangements for attacking Nauru and landing the prisoners. They had received intelligence reports that a British cruiser had left the Japan area on 28th November and was heading for Australia, probably in response to the loss of the Rangitane. Eyssen said that there was a small chance that it may travel via Nauru and cause them a problem, but it was not sufficiently dangerous to abandon their plans. The captains made a social occasion of their meeting, particularly exchanging mementos of their adventures. Eyssen gave Weyher a framed picture found on the Rangitane of the SS Turakina which had been sunk by the Orion earlier in the year. Pschunder gave Eyssen an oil painting of the Rangitane. it is known that Eyssen sent a picture of Rangitane to Captain Upton after the war and it would be interesting to speculate whether this was the same picture. Just before midnight the three ships set off on the final leg of their journey to Nauru.

It is clear that Captain Upton had gained the confidence of the German commanders, particularly Komet's Captain Eyssen. Within a few days of being captured, Upton had been invited to Eyssen's cabin and had shared a few glasses of whiskey and proper cigarettes. There is no doubt that their relationship developed from professional respect to friendship which was to become a valuable asset in the following weeks. Captain  Eyssen explained to Upton the difficulty of having so many prisoners to feed and stated his intention of releasing everybody on a suitable island as soon as possible. This information was disseminated to all prisoners and morale was raised significantly. Unfortunately, every sight of land was greeted with excitement that release was imminent, followed by disappointment when the land disappeared over the horizon.

An old adversary

Just after 9 am on the Friday 6th December a loud radio message was heard. Komet and Kulmerland were despatched to investigate the identity of the ship which turned out to be the American freighter Clevedon. Being a neutral ship, the Kulmerland and Komet returned to their original course for Nauru. At about the same time Orion saw heavy smoke about 20 miles away on the port quarter. Some time later, Weyher became concerned that the ship may also be travelling to Nauru, would see the three raiders and warn the authorities at Nauru. He turned Orion hard to port towards the unknown ship and gradually built up to full-speed. He informed Komet and Kulmerland of the quarry's speed and direction and arranged for them to move to an attacking position.

Little did Weyher know that he was to meet up again with an old foe. Back in August the Orion had been hunting the Pacific trade routes with little success. On 10th August Weyher saw the Triona, a phosphate ship off Brisbane. When the Triona realised that she was in danger of being attacked she turned and sailed back from where she came at full speed. Orion could have given chase but it was late afternoon and the chances of catching up within attacking distance before dark were slim. What was amazing was that the Triona had not broadcast a raider warning message. Weyher decided not to push his luck but he was irritated that the Triona had slipped through his fingers. Now, in December, Lieutenant Bürbheim on the Orion told his captain that the unknown ship was the Triona again. Weyher was delighted but knew that he would have to exercise caution, knowing that the Triona's captain was not stupid. The Triona was clearly on its way to Nauru and had to be stopped before it raised the alarm at Nauru.

At 10 miles distance and heading straight for the Triona, the Orion presented only her bow view and could not readily be identified. There was a lot of intermittent low cloud and rain around and the Komet and Kulmerland had disappeared from view. The Orion, mainly hidden in rain, was now to the south of the Triona which was travelling north. The Komet and Kulmerland were still hidden somewhere in the low cloud to the north of Triona.  But Weyher couldn't take action until he knew exactly where Komet was. Finally, the cloud lifted for a short time and Komet was directly in front of Triona and Orion was behind. Weyher's old foe was trapped. At 5.20pm Komet fired a warning shot and signalled the Triona to stop and not to use her radio. The Triona immediately tried to transmit a QQQQ raider warning and her position. The signal was immediately drowned by the Orion's radio operator who transmitted a strong false Japanese signal on the same frequency. The attack then started in earnest - the Triona, which by this time had started zigzagging in and out of low cloud, had to be stopped at all costs. Both Komet and Orion opened fire with their 6" guns and soon found their range. After over nine hours, the Triona finally surrendered and and lowered its boats. Three Philippino and Chinese had been killed, many more were injured. The survivors of the 64 crew and seven passengers  made their way to the raiders. By nightfall the prize crews had completed their search and had restocked the raiders' depleted larders, particularly fruit, vegetables, drink and tobacco. Pineapples, oranges, tomatoes and salad were obviously a special treat to the Komet crew, but particular delight was expressed at having obtained cucumbers. Eyssen also recorded that they had found a lot of women's clothes which would be useful if they came across another passenger ship which needed to be evacuated quickly by women still in their nightclothes! He dryly commented that the women of Nauru would have to dress modestly for the time being without their new clothes. Eyssen also regretted that he did not have more time to explore the Triona which he described as being a clean and tidy vessel.

Triona was a nine year old, 4,413 ton freighter belonging to the British Phosphate Commissioners and was transporting 1,112 tons of food and materials from Newcastle in New South Wales to Nauru. She was sunk by a single torpedo at 10.54pm at 5º 12' S, 165º 39' E.

The raiders headed north at top speed. They were now quite close to Nauru and tension had been heightened by their encounter with Triona. It took some time to analyse various papers found on the Triona, including 'the whole post office' being delivered to Nauru. This included many personal letters which Eyssen said would still be delivered to their recipients: "it's the least I can do" he wrote in his diary. Little new intelligence was gained from the Triona crew; the only item recorded in Weyher's diary was that new Admiralty orders required all ships to maintain lookouts in the crow's nest. The crew said that they thought the Orion was a ship they had expected to see from Nauru and couldn't understand why she was on a strange course. Among the survivors were five women, one being a mother from Nauru with her 18 year old daughter. They were returning from a Christmas shopping trip in Melbourne: they had lost all of their festive provisions and presents. Weyher recorded that the women were initially fearsome of the reputation of the German raiders but that they soon found that they were treated with real consideration. He said that they were particularly interested in the German women's fashion magazines which just happened to be lying around on the Orion. One cannot resist concluding that such comments were more to do with propaganda value! Evidence presented to the 1941 official inquiry said that the Schedule for Shipping for December was in the post captured on Triona. Eyssen would have known about the number and type of ships to be expected at Nauru.

Preparing for the release of prisoners

The logistics of off-loading so many captives onto a small Pacific island were daunting. It was known that Nauru had no natural harbour or jetty suitable for mooring. It was clear that every prisoner would have to be taken by motor launch to the shore, together with sufficient provisions to last several days before help could arrive. But there had also been a major disagreement between Captains Eyssen and Weyher over who should be released and who should be retained in captivity. Eyssen wanted to release everybody. He argued that the drain on the raiders' limited resources would be unacceptable and would hamper their mission. Weyher was adamant that only women, children and 'non-whites' should be released. He could not accept that anybody in the armed forces should be released to fight another day or that merchant seamen would be released to help re-supply a beleaguered Britain. How exactly the two captains finally settled on the solution is not clear and neither captain makes any more than a passing comment to the issue in their war diaries. It is clear however that Captain Upton's tact and diplomacy was used in a lot of horse-trading to try to get as many prisoners released as possible. Whose idea it was, is not known, but it was agreed that, apart from the RNZAF men on Komet who were to be transferred to Orion, and three injured prisoners who would be transferred from Orion, everybody from Komet and Kulmerland was to be released on Nauru and all non-Europeans on Orion were to be released. This would leave 84 prisoners from Rangitane on Orion together with nearly 70 from other ships. But there was a condition: all male Europeans to be released from Komet were required to sign a declaration saying:

What is amazing is that all but two of the Fleet Air Arm recruits escaped internment: it is probable that most of them were with the prisoners on Komet whom Eyssen wanted to get rid of while Jack Dark and Mac Dowding were on Orion under Weyher's stricter regime. Captain Eyssen got his way in that he would dispose of all of his prisoners. Captain Weyher partly got his way in that 150 potential combatants were to be retained on Orion for forward transit to POW camp in Germany, 84 of them from Rangitane. With typical German efficiency, prisoners had to sign five copies of their agreement not to bear arms. One signed copy is still in the possession of descendants of Lionel Upton.

It is probable that this disagreement over the release of prisoners was a final straw for Eyssen: he records being tired of his squadron, particularly Orion's continuing mechanical problems hindering progress. He decided that, after discharging all of his prisoners, he would operate independently, leaving Weyher to live with his problem of how to deal with his prisoners. There is also evidence that SKL, German naval command, became involved with the dispute, apparently agreeing with Weyher that potential combatants should be interned. SKL followed this up by issuing an instruction to all raiders, clearly aimed at Eyssen, about the future handling of prisoners. Eyssen was not very pleased and it did not help relations with Weyher.

All of the Orion prisoners were quite understandably unhappy that they were not to be released. For many it had been their misfortune to be captive on Orion and subject to the harsher Weyher regime. Had they been imprisoned on Komet or Kulmerland, they would be preparing for their release. In particular, the RNZAF men were unhappy at being detained and implored Captains Upton and Miller to lobby the Germans on their behalf:

The request was refused and the RNZAF men sat out the war their time in a number of POW camps in Germany. Jack Almond, Third Electrical Officer told the story that one unnamed Komet prisoner was selected for detention. He was actually a Rangitane passenger but was suspected by the Germans to be a soldier. In desperation he pointed to his obvious glass eye and said that it proved his civilian status. The gravity of the situation was lightened when a German jokingly asked if anybody had ever heard of Nelson! It worked: the person involved (thought possibly to have been Mr A Hayer) was to be released.

Almond also reported that one key person was in danger of not being released - Captain Upton. As well as being in the Royal Naval Reserve, he was also an ADC to King George VI. Almond reported that it was only at the last moment that the Germans recanted and allowed Upton to be released with the majority of his crew.

Other preparations were made for the landing. Eyssen had promised a boat, kerosene and food. Dr. Crawford, the Rangitane's surgeon was given the medical histories of all those who had received treatment on the raiders so that they could be passed on and Sculleryman Richard Thorpe had to make 300 wooded spoons for use ashore: the raiders wanted to keep as much hardware as possible for future prisoners. In his efficient way, Captain Upton made all the preparations for landing at Nauru. But he also displayed his gentlemanly nature: he and Captain Miller wrote a letter as follows:

All of these preparations were to be in vain. With Nauru less than a day away and with everybody's spirits lifting, the weather started to deteriorate and the raiders' plans were to be temporarily suspended because of a feast of allied shipping just waiting to be destroyed.

The Nauru adventure begins

On the afternoon of the next day, Saturday 7th December, Komet was within sight of Nauru and the prisoners again became excited at the thought of imminent release. There was a fresh wind up to five knots, a deep swell, heavy cloud and gusts of rain. Komet approached from the south and saw a ship to the southeast and another to the northwest of the island, obviously anchored waiting to load phosphates. On getting close, Weyher was surprised to see how modern and large the phosphate handling facilities were. Although Nauru was one of the world's richest phosphate reserves, there was no natural port or harbour: all ships had to moor on huge pontoons offshore and were loaded from long conveyor gantries. It was clear to Eyssen that Nauru was a much bigger operation than previously believed with modern administration buildings and nice houses. Eyssen decided that it needed to be seriously disrupted, started moving closer and then saw another ship about five miles away to the northeast and decided to investigate: he reasoned that he knew that he could return for the other two ships at anchor off Nauru but that this third ship was under steam and needed to be investigated immediately.

That ship was the Norwegian motor vessel Vinni, on charter to the British Phosphate Commissioners, which had left Dunedin on 21st November bound for Nauru. She had arrived on 30th November and for a week had been drifting 20 miles off Nauru waiting for an opportunity to load. She had sailed back to within five miles of the shore and had stopped engines for the night before loading the following morning. Vinni's Captain Helmer Henriksen reported seeing an unknown ship travelling towards his position but, being bow-on, he couldn't see its markings or flag. He was somewhat surprised when eventually he saw Komet's Japanese markings. He expressed his concerns to his first officer, Aslak Jensen, but was not particularly worried because he had not received any warning signal either from the strange ship or from the Nauru wireless office which controlled the movements of all shipping around the island. His complacency was soon shattered: when less than two miles away, the ship signalled by Aldis lamp for the Vinni to stop and not to use the radio. Henriksen immediately ordered the engines to be re-started and started moving painfully slowly westwards around the north side of the island. It was clear that Vinni could not escape and Henriksen ordered his vessel to be stopped and to allow Komet's prize crew to come aboard.

As with the Holmwood, Vinni was taken without any QQQQ warning being broadcast. The three other ships known to be off Nauru had no idea that there were surface raiders only a few miles away. Eyssen's prize crew quickly searched the Vinni, transferred 32 new prisoners to the Komet, set explosive charges and abandoned the ship to her fate at 0º 28' South, 166º 55' East. Eyssen recorded that in the late evening Vinni exploded with a brilliant flash and sank only about five miles off Nauru, yet even the the explosion was not seen ashore. Vinni's Captain Henriksen and his crew could not believe their luck when they learnt that they would all to be released on Nauru the following day. There was evidently a degree of humour between vanquished and victor:  Henriksen asked Eyssen for a signed receipt to prove to his employers that Vinni was captured and sunk. Eyssen obliged and the receipt is preserved for posterity at the Norwegian Maritime Museum in Oslo.

That night all three German ships sailed 20 miles west of Nauru and the captains met just after midnight for another conference and to give the landing parties their instructions on releasing the prisoners. Vinni's captain had told Eyssen that landing at Nauru was impossible with the prevailing wind which was causing a deep swell and breaking waves. Eyssen and Weyher decided to delay a decision until they could assess the weather condition the following day. They then agreed a plan to attack the other phosphate ships in the morning half-light: Komet was to round Emirau to the north and Orion and Kulmerland to the south and the attack was to start at 6.30am. Weyher's diary records that he had to insist that only one raider's boarding party was to go on each captured ship; he said that after Komet had taken Triona on the previous day, Orion also wanted to put a prize crew on board which was not acceptable. Eyssen and Weyher were clearly not the best of friends and it was probably becoming progressively more difficult for the two commanders to work together.

At 2.00am, Sunday 8th December, the raiders parted and steamed eastwards to their rendezvous at first light. At 3.30am Orion's Captain Weyher first saw a brightly lit ship to the east of Nauru and then another to the north-east. He started closing on the first ship and, when just over a mile away, signalled asking for the ship's identity. There was no reply - the watch were oblivious of the presence of the raider, so a warning shot was fired across the ship's bows. This had an immediate effect - the lights were extinguished and the ship increased speed away from Orion.  The other ship to the north-east also turned off its lights. Orion's searchlights illuminated the first ship and Weyher could clearly see a stern gun, proving that it was not an independent country's trader. It took just four shells from Orion to stop the ship which turned out to be the 6,378 ton SS Triadic owned by the British Phosphate Commissioners. Captain Callender of the Triadic told the official inquiry that the second and third shots destroyed the wireless cabin and that the wireless officer was off duty. This suggests that no raider warning signal was transmitted.  By the time the lifeboats were lowered, Triadic was ablaze and it was obviously only a matter of time before she would sink. Weyher signalled to Kulmerland to stop and pick up survivors while Orion set off to chase the other ship she had seen.

Meanwhile, Captain Eyssen on Komet had already seen the second ship's running lights but realised that he could not start an attack before the pre-arranged time. He stopped his engines intending to to wait until dawn, but the ship suddenly switched its lights off and started steaming eastwards. Eyssen was in a dilemma: if he gave chase he would be be travelling straight into Orion who was circumnavigating the island in the opposite direction and it did not need the two of them to capture the fleeing ship. Eyssen decided to turn around and sail eastwards again to take a closer look at the landing facilities on the West side of Nauru. This was a strange decision: Weyher knew that there were three ships waiting off the eastern side of Nauru, yet he preferred to go and survey landing places. Whatever the reason, he concluded that a landing was still not possible and continued around the south of the island to survey the south and east coasts more carefully. When he arrived on the east side Komet stopped and picked up a lifeboat from the Triadic. Its occupants were furious, wanting to know why they had been attacked without warning, especially with ordinary passengers on board. Since Eyssen had not been involved in the attack and did not know what warning, if any, Weyher had given, asked why the Triadic was carrying passengers if it was armed with a stern gun.

At 9.45am, just as everybody was back on board Komet, another ship was spotted by Eyssen's crew to the south-east. It was the 4,165 ton SS Komata  owned by the Union Steam Ship Company of New Zealand. She had sailed from Auckland to Suva and then on to Nauru. She had been lying overnight 25 miles off Nauru and was on her approach in extremely limited visibility when Captain Fish, Komata's captain, saw two ships on his starboard bow. He told the 1941 inquiry that he had reason to be suspicious of the ships following a report from the Nauru radio operator that there might have been a distress call earlier that morning and that the radio operator had broadcast a request for some Japanese ships lying off Nauru to identify themselves. When Fish saw that one of the ships in front of him had Japanese markings, he immediately ordered the Komata to port and asked for full speed. Komet, the closer of the two suspicious ships, immediately started to close in and gave the signal by flag to stop and not to use the radio. Fish did not bother trying to decode the flag signal but ordered his radio officer to send the standard raider warning message. The signal was immediately jammed by Komet's powerful radio, so Fish ordered a distress message to be sent. This was met with a barrage of shellfire: at three-quarters of a mile range, the Komata was immediately hit the port wing of the bridge which destroyed its radio and antennae and killed the Chief Officer and seriously injured the second officer who later died. Captain Fish stopped his ship and ordered his crew to abandon as quickly as possible. He packed all confidential material on the bridge in a weighted bag and threw it overboard. It is unfortunate that, immediately before being killed, the Chief Officer had been given the keys to dispose of all the papers in the safe in the captain's quarters. The keys, the only set available, were lost and the safe was found in tact by Komet's prize crew and yielded its secrets later that day. The Komata crew were given plenty of time to collect their personal possessions and by 2pm were all meeting their fellow prisoners in the Komet's holds.

The Orion meanwhile had been in pursuit of her other quarry. Despite her troublesome boilers, Orion made twelve knots and gradually reduced the distance, using 'artificial fog' to shroud her progress, much to the discomfort of the her deck crew and gunners. Orion opened fire at a range of four miles with four shells which straddled the evading ship. This was obviously enough: the ship stopped and her lifeboats were lowered. She was SS Triaster, another British Phosphate Commissioners ship, whose 64 crew including Captain A. Rhoades were quickly imprisoned on Orion. There is no record of a raider warning having been transmitted. The Triaster was to be scuttled by explosives placed in her holds. Weyher records with wry amusement that some of his prize crew were still on the Triaster when the first detonation in the forward hold occurred: the ship rocked and tilted to starboard, unfooting the crew who all rushed to the stern where their motorboat was attached. One of the crew misjudged the gap between the Triaster and the motorboat and ended up in the water. Another huge explosion shook the atmosphere and the Triaster sank gracefully, bows first. Weyher recorded that just as the bridge reached the water, the compressed air siren let out a final grim lament.

Orion then returned to the still blazing Triadic which resolutely refused to sink. Despite the poor visibility, Weyher was worried that the smoke would be seen from Nauru. He was also aware that the Nauru radio operator was getting suspicious about lack of contact with the various ships waiting to load. He decided not to waste time and used one of Orion's precious torpedoes to sink Triadic. Even a gaping hole did not sink the ship and Weyher had to send a demolition party to attach an explosive charge to the outside of the hull. Finally, Triadic gave up and sank.

In less than 24 hours, four phosphate ships had been sunk and hundreds more prisoners had been stowed on the raiders. It was a very depressing day for the existing prisoners: the Rangitane prisoners had been expecting their imminent release on Nauru, their spirits had been high and there had been excitement in the air. In reality they had to listen to the straining engines, the deafening roar of the guns and the footsteps of yet more prisoners. Everybody knew from their own recent experience what the crew and passengers on the attacked ships were going through. The final straw was when everybody was told that the weather conditions were too bad to allow them to land at Nauru for several days.

The 1941 official inquiry was amazed that the authorities on Nauru were completely oblivious to the presence of the raiders despite the fact that they had been within only a few miles of the shore for most of the previous afternoon and evening and had attacked and sunk three ships the following day. The Nauru radio operator had been heard by the raiders asking its neighbour, Ocean Island, whether they had heard a distress signal and later, asking the Japanese ships to identify themselves. This implies that they had actually seen the raiders with the Japanese insignia.  As noted by Eyssen, Nauru was illuminated as if electricity were free and the Triadic and Triaster had been observed with full running lights. It is known that Komata made a distress signal which had first been jammed by Komet and later had been overlaid by a false commercial message from Komet. The Ocean Island radio operator had clearly been uneasy at the confused jammed message yet the Nauru operator appears to have been appeased by the false Komet messages. Nauru tried several times to raise the Triona, Triadic and Triaster but, according to Weyher, the Komet operators managed to maintain a credible charade. 

Bearing in mind that it was a New Zealand government inquiry passing comment on an Australian mandated territory, the comment "the behaviour of Nauru Island is inexplicable..." was a very damning indictment on the failure of the Nauru authorities to be diligent.

What were not publicized at the time, but have been recently seen at the Australian Archives, are allegations that there were enemy spies operating on Nauru while working for the phosphate company. Two men and a woman were reported by fellow islanders to the police for subversive activities and the intelligence service carried out an investigation, finally concluding that there was no substance to the allegations.

The weather conditions at Nauru did not improve and it was clear to Eyssen that he would have to abandon temporarily his plans to land the prisoners. Another problem had been preying on his mind for some time: Komet was running low on supplies, particularly fuel and food and it was now an opportune time to replenish from Kulmerland. But the weather conditions would not allow so Komet and Kulmerland to raft together to transfer the supplies safely. It was agreed that Komet and Kulmerland would sail 510 miles to Ailinglaplap atoll in the Marshall Islands while Orion was to patrol Ponape. The German captains planned to meet up again on Friday 13^th November just north of Nauru to attempt another landing to release the prisoners.

Ailinglaplap is a group of 52 islets surrounding a lagoon of about 300 square miles. As part of the Marshall Islands, it was annexed by Germany in 1885 but was taken over by Japan in 1914. Ailinglaplap had previously been used by Orion to refuel from the suplly ship Regensburg. The prisoners on Komet and Kulmerland were not very happy with their change of circumstances. Having been told of their imminent release, they now knew that they were steaming north towards less friendly territories. On Wednesday 11^th December the routine on Komet was broken by a loud crash: while coming alongside Kulmerland, the deep swell had caused the gunwalls and guard rails to clash, causing some damage. When the prisoners were eventually allowed on deck they found that they were in an atoll which, had it not been for their circumstances, would have been idyllic.

Re-provisioning took a lot longer than expected. Komet and Kulmerland were to have met up with Orion on the 13^th but on that day they were still at Ailinglaplap.  During this time Orion had been bobbing around in the continuing atrocious weather around Nauru. Force 11 gales were still blowing but Captain Weyher had learnt from some of the prisoners on their way home to Nauru that there was a sheltered bay on the north of Nauru which was usually approachable, even in bad weather. The bay was the location of a leper colony and, a few hundred yards away, there was a settlement of native fishermen who would usually transfer passengers from ship to shore. The bay was located on the charts but no action could be taken until Orion met up again with the other ships from Ailinglaplap. The three ships eventually came together on Monday 16^th December just north of Nauru to review the situation.  Orion was still being plagued by engine problems and it was finally decided to abandon the Nauru landing completely.

 It is not clear from either Eyssen's or Weyher's diaries why they chose to head for the tiny unknown island of Emirau in the Bismarck Archipelago, over 1000 miles away. It is questionable whether they in fact intended Emirau when they left Nauru because their course initially took them west-north-westwards for over 500 miles - certainly not a direct route to Emirau. Geoffrey Barley, one of the Rangitane prisoners, claimed that Captain Eyssen had told him that he had been to Emirau (or Storm Island as it had previously been known) when it was under German control before the First World War. Eyssen recorded how magnanimous he had felt in planning to release the prisoners on an island under British control and with sufficient supplies to ensure no deprivation until they could be rescued. It seems inevitable that Captain Upton must have been instrumental in some of these arrangements.

Morale amongst the prisoners improved once again but there was much cynicism: previous plans for release had been thwarted too many times. By Sunday 20^th December, anticipation was running high; they had been sailing south west for two days and in the early evening Emirau was at last within sight. But most important of all, the weather was perfect for landing and detailed arrangements were being made for disembarkation. Geoffrey Barley could not believe it when he saw Emirau. "There it was - leaning palm trees with a base of thick vivid tropical greenery, and in the foreground a deep blue calm lagoon."

Supplies of food, water and kerosene were assembled, working parties were formed and Captain Eyssen enjoyed his moment of magnanimity, walking among his captives and declaring his delight at their imminent release. "Tomorrow you will be drinking whiskey and soda there" he would jovially say, pointing towards a small white bungalow partly hidden in the vegetation on Emirau. Barley also recorded that Eyssen said in a serious tone that he wished that he was also going with them. It is evident that there must have been a genuine respect, if not friendship, between the German and British senior officers. In 1948 one of the German Officers, Werner Schulz-Heik sent Upton a picture of the Virgin Mary, on the back of which was written:

"To Captain Upton

In memory of the days, when with mutual understanding we solved many little problems and made life much happier for all of us, and let us hope, dear friend, that either of us may never again be witnesses of the tragedy of seeing a ship going to its death on the seven seas.

With best heartfelt wishes from one sailor to another."

But not everybody was pleased: it was again confirmed that the prisoners on Orion and some New Zealand airmen on Komet and Kulmerland were not to be released. Their future was very uncertain. Captains Eyssen and Weyher had re-opened the debate about who should be released and Weyher was adamant that he would not release potential combatants.

On Monday morning the three ships finally dropped anchor on the south-east of Emirau. For the majority of the prisoners who had signed the pledge two weeks previously, their day of freedom had finally arrived.

Still to come….

Saying goodbye to friends transported back to German POW camp

Letter of thanks from Upton to Eyssen

Marooned on Emirau island

Rescue of survivors on Emirau by Australian authorities

Journey to Australia on SS Nellore

Reception in Townsville Australia

Journey to Sydney

The Rangitane fundraising Ball

Censorship, press reports and propaganda

Repatriation of Polish crew

Fate of POWs in Milag Nord POW camp

The Official Inquiry in 1941

What became of the Komet, Orion, Kulmerland, Nellore, Batory, Ermland, Nauru, Emirau, Captains Upton, Eyssen and Weyher, Judge Stuart, the CORB escorts. 

Sources:

 Under ten flags (originally German Raider Atlantis) by Wolfgang Frank and Bernhard Rogge

The Secret Raiders by David Woodward (2 copies)

Prison Life on a Pacific Raider by Betsy Sandbach and Geraldine Edge

German Raiders of World War II by August Karl Muggenthaler

Salute the Red Duster by A. B. Campbell

German Raiders in the Pacific by S. D. Waters

Caught by a Nazi Raider by Geoffrey Barley

Ordeal by Sea by S. D. Waters

Hilskreuzer Komet  Kaperfahrt auf allen Meeren by Robert Eyssen

The Black Raider by Kurt Weyher and Hans Jurgen Ehrlich

The Absurd and the Brave by Michael Fethney

The Singing Ship by Meta Maclean

The Children's War by Ruth Inglis

Queen Salote of Tonga  by Elizabeth Wood-Ellem

Children of the Benares by Ralph Barker

Passage to Destiny by Brian James Crabb

Margaret Osborne - unpublished personal account

Florence Mundie - unpublished personal account

Cecille Edgeley - unpublished personal account

Frank Ellison - unpublished personal account

Fr Ernest Ball - unpublished personal account

Capt Lionel Upton - unpublished personal account

Captain Helmer Henriksen - unpublished personal account

Ella Clothier - unpublished personal account

Geoffrey Sommerville - unpublished personal account

Billy Harden - unpublished personal account

Report of Commission of Inquiry on the Loss of Certain Vessels by Enemy Action and

Alleged Leakage of Information

National Maritime Museum archives

National Archives of Australia

Many dozens of New Zealand, Australian and British press cuttings