Robert S Wilkins (HMS Ark Royal, Nelson) passing

Robert S. Wilkins, who served in the Royal Navy from 1928 - 1950s - and
served with distinction in WW2, passed away today in hospital (Melbourne
Australia) in his sleep on 21st January 2007. His wife passed away over ten
years ago and they had no children.

This is his story (which I recorded during my interviews with him when he
was 89 years old.

I was a Quartermaster on the Ark Royal, which meant I steered the ship,
along with 4 others on a capital ship like a battleship or aircraft carrier.

I joined the Navy in 1928, I didn't do it out of patriotism, I wanted to see
the world. I spent 12 months as a boy seaman on board the training
battleship, the last coal burner, Emperor of India. At 18 I went to the R
class battleship, Royal Sovereign and then joined the Revenge with the 1st
Battle Squadron in the Mediterranean. (served on 6 battleships in all, the
other were Barham, Nelson and Vanguard)

I joined Ark Royal on 28 Dec 1938. The old carriers were allotted : Glorious
to Home Fleet, Courageous in the Med Fleet, Hermes on the China Station etc
etc. Prior to going on the Ark I was on the Courageous and I didn't even
know what the Ark Royal was when I got my posting to her. I served on eight
capital ships in my twenty six years of service, but I loved the Ark best of
all. She was a good ship. She took care of us.

I told my wife, whom I had just recently married, not to worry; I would only
be gone for three months. She was a little bit angry and said - "What's
that? A weekend?" Its not a nice way to start a marriage. But the war clouds
were looming. And for that reason, I didn't want Elsie to get pregnant.

We went to the Med for the Summer weather, with 60 aircraft embarked for
training and went back to Scapa Flow in July 39. When we got there we knew
war was coming.

We went to Norway and it was dreadful. We had Stuka dive bombers coming at
us. There's this photo with five bomb hits all around the Ark. We had tons
of av gas inside our ship, one hit and we would have been blown to kingdom
come. But we made it through, thank God. But I thought I wouldn't survive
the war after that.

I saw the Bismarck sink. The Germans claim they scuttled her. What rubbish.
She was burning end to end. Her bow went up and then she sank. I admired the
German sailors - they were better fighters than we were. The only person I
hated was Hitler- it was all his bloody fault.

I was on the Nelson when I saw the Eagle go down. We were escorting a convoy
to (Malta?). The Eagle took four "fish" and tilted heavily to one side. I
saw sailors jumping off the decks and trying to swim away before it went
under (and sucked anything around it). In a few minutes, she completely
disappeared. The people under decks - in the engine room - not a chance.
Poor blighters. When I saw that, I said "Blimey where is my safety vest?" I
ran down to my cabin to get it quick smart. "Who knows? It might be our turn
next."

I took part in Operational Pedestal in August 1942. It was a horror. We lost
eight ships out of 14 that took part. The Junker 87 divebombers used to
attack us as at dusk. I saw the funnels of stricken merchant ships shooting
out flames like bunsen burners after they had been hit. Then in a few
seconds they rolled over and sank - no survivors.

One of the most callous things I seen done was the order for "Deep six". I
was on the flight deck, one of our planes landed ok but the observer and the
gunner were killed. They reported that the pilot was also in a bad way. Out
came the order from the air commander - "Deep Six". They threw the entire
plane- including its crew still inside - overboard. But the pilot was still
alive! They did this because they had to allow the other planes to land and
the plane was blocking the way. I reckon the pilot deserved a VC for landing
the plane safely on board - but all he got was a wet and cold death.

When war was declared we were doing North Sea patrols, and very soon after
war broke out Sub Lt Gardner shot down the first German aircraft of the war.

We were sent to look for the Graf Spee, we never got to it. But we were
using our aircraft to fly reconnaissance searches 150 miles ahead of the
ship.

The following year we went to Norway and operated 200 miles north of the
Arctic Circle. The air attack on the Scharnhorst was the first time we had
suffered such heavy losses.

We took at least ten convoys through the Med. On the last trip to Malta, on
which we were sunk, we had flown 48 aircraft off to Malta. We were not
bombed on that last trip and it was daylight and a calm sea when we were
torpedoed, flat like a pancake. I was in the Petty Officer's mess at the
time. I was due to go on watch 4 - 6 pm (first dog watch), my cup of tea
went straight up in the air and landed on the saucer breaking it.

We reported to the Navigation Officer, Hector Maclean (a very strict, but
fair man). The Chief Quartermaster took the wheel, we were sent to the
flight deck. There were worries over with the aviation fuel lines and we
were sent to help, but nothing happened.

A lot of young people jumped over the side, I don't know why, there was no
need to. HMS Legion came along side and evacuated us. We stayed in the area
for a while, dropping depth charges every few minutes to ward off
submarines. We then sailed for Gibraltar and got in at about 2 am.

Able Seaman E. Mitchell (Mitch) was the only one who bought it. He was a
World War One veteran, a Petty Officer. He saw some action and once had to
use an axe to fight off a hostile German boarding party. He left the service
and then rejoined for WW2, coming back as an Able Seaman. He liked his booze
too much, he liked his tot of rum, but he was great, a really nice natured
fellow. The day of the sinking I had been on the morning watch with him, and
he'd said that he was going to go down to the Lower Steering position (there
were 4 in all) and get his head down. I warned him that the Captain had told
us to watch out for submarines, but he said the Germans would never get the
Ark. He was in the Lower Steering position, next to the telephone exchange,
when we were hit. Never had a chance.

Mitchell was my helmsman for a long time, he had this book called 'No
Orchids For Miss Blandish'. It seemed risqué but it wasn't. He used to lend
it out to unsuspecting new seamen in return for their tot of rum. You could
remove the cover, and fit in the cover for 'How To Be A Good Seaman in a
Dozen Lessons'. They'd go off for a quiet read, looking like they were
mugging up on seamanship.

Tot - Pussers Rum - was magic on a ship. You could get anything done for it.
If you wanted someone to take your watch - a tot would get it done. I kept a
flask filled with Rum. The higher ratings like Petty Officers were allowed
to have their rum neat - undiluted by water. That meant that I could store
the rum without it turning off.
One of the young Petty Officers didn't like Tot - I could see him making a
sour face each time he drank it. I told him if he didn't want it he could
get a reimbursement from the navy - Threepence a day or seven shillings a
month. I offered him one pound for it - three times what the navy offered.
He gladly accepted.

The Ark was a real lady - she took good care of us during those horrible
months of the war. Of all the ships I served on - Emperor of India, Royal
Sovereign, Duncan, Vampire, Revenge March 1934 - March 1935 (good ships
company), Barham, Courageous, Nelson, Maenad, Vanguard, Sydney, I loved the
Ark the best.

And when it was her turn to go, she waited until we all got off before she
went under. What a lady she was. I didn't even get my feet wet. I
telegraphed my wife that message when I got back on shore. "Safe. Feet not
wet."

.

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