Remembrance Day – Remembering S.S. Beaverford’s Sacrifice
The epic story of the good ship Beaverford should be known to every Canadian. Instead—typically—she has been all but forgotten.
By the same stroke of irony, the British armed merchantman S.S. Jervis Bay, which fought and died with her in the same action, became, at least for a time, one of the most famous ships of the Second World War.
Convoy HX-84 cleared Halifax late Oct. 28, 1940: 38 ships with only two destroyers, which would turn back shortly, and the armed merchant cruiser Jervis Bay for protection—steamed at an agonizingly slow eight knots for faraway Liverpool.
Commanding the 10,052-ton Beaverford was a short, stocky Scotsman, Capt. Hugh Pettigrew.
According to the official record of Canadian Pacific Steamships, the ship’s owners, the veteran master felt something would happen this voyage. It had been his custom to invite “one or two less senior members of the shore staff…to luncheon aboard his well-found 15-knot freighter.
“This time, instead of playing host aboard his ship, he entertained two friends at an uptown restaurant. When asked why the change in procedure, Capt Pettigrew said, “I have a feeling this will be our last lunch together, so I thought a change would be good.”
Lieut./Cdr. Morrison, RNR, of HMS Jervis Bay, had the same uneasy feeling. Neither officer could have realized the faint voice from the ‘twilight zone’ of his subconscious was whispering of what was to come. Neither officer could have known that, within eight days, they and their ships, “with flags flying and guns barking defiance,” would go to the bottom of the Atlantic.
The convoy commodore, Rear Admiral H.B. Maltby, was aboard a third ship, the Cornish City.
Commanding HMS Jervis Bay was 49 year-old Irishman, Capt. Edward Fegen.
The navy had been a natural choice for him: his grandfather, father and two brothers had served. A veteran of the First World War, he’d commanded destroyers and cruisers during his career. Now he paced the bridge of the 14,164-ton Jervis Bay.
Excepting four neutral Swedish freighters, all ships were listed as being “defensively equipped”. In harsh reality, this meant each probably had two ancient Lewis machine guns—useless against the deadly U-boats which would stalk them for the entire voyage.
Beaverford boasted of a four-inch low-angle gun aft of her wheelhouse and a three-inch high-angle gun forward of her docking bridge. Situated as they were, neither weapon could fire at any target forward of the beam, amidship. Concrete gun pits containing two Lewis machine guns on her bridge completed her “armament.”
Manning these antiques, which dated from the First World War, were members of Beaverford’s regular crew, instructed and led by a handful of DEMS (Defensively Armed Merchant Ships).
Beaverford‘s position in the convoy which was carrying 200,000 tons of vital cargo, was middle ship of the seventh column. This was near the southern flank of the miles-wide convoy.
The second S.S. Beaverford. (Courtesy of Canadian Pacific)
Days passed uneventfully and it seemed this voyage would be a ‘milk run.’
Not even a false submarine alert distrubed the peace. But these days weren’t wasted. Ships learned the routine of convoy duty, seamen learned their emergency stations and duties; sharp watches were maintained.
Now that the convoy was well on its way, the Canadian destroyers signalled farewell and put about. They were desperately needed elsewhere. Convoy HX-84 was on its own.
More days passed with the zig-zagging flotilla slowly advancing toward the western approaches to the British Isles where other destroyers would escort them the last lap. A week had elapsed since the merchantmen left Halifax. To date, nothing untoward had occurred.
It was too good to last, of course; this was wartime, after all, and Nov. 5, 1940 brought death and destruction.
Aboard each freighter, each tanker, lookouts scanned the grey horizon for any sign of the enemy. It was sunny, that November 5th, with a rising swell. But nothing was sighted in any direction, not even saw the small German reconnaissance plane lurking in the clouds and circling them like a hawk.
When its pilot had seen enough, he hastened to report. Rather than break radio silence which would have warned the silvering streaks below, at 12:40 p.m., he reported directly to Capt. Theodor Krancke—skipper of the pocket battleship Admiral Scheer.
This floating steel arsenal, “unobserved, unreported and—worse—unsuspected,” had slipped into the North Atlantic. Now she altered course at full speed for the approaching convoy, three hours away.
All that stood between her 11-inch guns and 36 defenceless merchantment were HMS Jervis Bay and S.S. Beaverford.
It wasn’t by chance that Capt. Krancke had located the convoy. Through German intelligence, he’d known the exact minute of its departure from Halifax.
Now he knew its exact position.
Satan must have been laughing that day. For November 5th, when the Admiral Scheer closed to attack, was Guy Fawkes Day. For many British seamen, the ensuing ‘fireworks’ would be their last.
At 2:30 p.m., the Scheer came across the British steamer Mopan, steaming alone. Within minutes, Capt. Krancke had sunk her, picked up her survivors, and proceeded to his rendezvous with naval history.
But sinking the Mopan had cost him time; the fast approaching darkness would aid the convoy.
At 3:15 lookouts aboard the merchantmen observed smoke to the northeast. But the convoy advanced, sure this stranger was friendly. After all, only U-boats stalked the high seas, the German surface fleet was safely locked up in various ports, and they were approaching British territorial waers.
Seventy-five minutes later, when the distance between the converging ships had irretrievably vanished, the alarm flashed through the convoy: “A German raider!”
Too late.
As Com. Maltby ordered a 40-degree turn to starboard, a salvo landed in the centre of the ships but caused no damage as the unarmoured Jervis Bay steamed to meet the enemy, dropping smoke floats overside to hide her scattering flock.
One of her 65 survivors later reported: “We realized we had no chance. But our captain had promised that, if we ever ran across an enemy, we would get as close as we could. So we tried to close in…”
As ordered, Beaverford wheeled to flee at full speed, dropping her smoke canisters as her small guns barked at the rapidly advancing battleship.
Jervis Bay “sailed straight into the maw of the German’s guns”..
With her “white ensign aflutter, guns belching their impotent fire,” it was, as later reported, the old tradition of “British tars meeting the old challenge.”
Photo of crewmen of HMS Jervis Bay
It was “as hopeless a fight as ever the British bulldog entered against an overwhelmingly superior foe”. But Capt. Fegan didn’t hesitate and his gallant crew did their best.
His only chance was to close range as much as possible so that his eight-inch guns could reach the raider. But Capt. Krancke took no chances of having his ship damaged and remained outside the merchant cruiser’s range while dropping salvo after salvo onto the unarmoured ship.
The skilled German gunners found their target with the third round, smashing Jervis Bay‘s forward gun then her control room. Canadian seaman George S. Squires “looked around at a fellow who had been standing beside me a second before and he was dead. There were flying shells and flames all over the place.”
On her shattered bridge, a badly wounded Capt. Fegen continued the one-sided action.
In 15 deadly minutes his ship had become a deadly inferno. Now her steering gear was wrecked. Still she “continued to “fight every available gun and to maneouvre as best she could with crippled steering facilities, until there was nothing left but to abandon ship.”
Able Seaman Henry Lane, a London cab driver in peacetime, was passing ammunition when “my gun was hit directly about a half-hour after the first salvo. There was a terrible sound, and the gun and and its whole crew were blown off the ship.”
Within an hour it was over. Capt. Fegen was dead at his post, Jervis Bay was sinking. For five hours its heroic crew huddled in the one remaining, holed lifeboat and three frail rafts. The Scheer having charged on in pursuit of fresh victims, they were alone in mid-Atlantic. All would have perished but for a courageous Swedish skipper, Svend Olander. Instead of fleeing in his rusty tramp he crept back through the darkness, still broken by gun flashes and star shell, to pick them up.
He modestly explained: “They did so well for us that I didn’t want to leave [them].
“It was glorious! Never will I forget the gallantry of that British captain sailing forward to meet the enemy.”
Capt. Olander returned to Halifax with the survivors. Two men died while awaiting rescue, a third aboard the Swede. All were wounded. 190 men, including 13 Canadians, went down with the Jervis Bay.
And the Beaverford?
Capt. Pettigrew had watched Jervis Bay’s suicidal attack. When she sank an hour later, many of the convoy’s slower vessels still hadn’t escaped. Now the Admiral Scheer could give her full attention to them—unless, again, a ship sacrificed herself to buy them some time.
“Without gunnery control apparatus, armed with only one four-inch and one three-inch gun and firing at extreme range, the best Capt. Pettigrew could hope for was to pin the raider to his immediate area and to allow more time for other, slower ships to get away with their valuable cargoes.”
Pettigrew gave the order and 13-year-old Beaverford steered at 15 knots for the raider. Within range, she turned her slender stern to the enemy to reduce her own target area and brought her tiny guns to bear.
As with Jervis Bay there could be but one ending to such an unequal battle.
But Capt. Pettigrew knew his stuff. As his guns belched fire he jerked his ship about, keeping her as difficult a target as possible. Again and again the battleship’s enormous guns thundered and her smaller armament crackled without pause.
As if she pitied the freighter, Time lifted her skirts and seemed to sprint around the clock. Those aboard Beaverford undoubtedly thought she was sleeping but the precious minutes were passing. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. An hour.
But now the German guns were finding their elusive mark. Three rounds from her heavy weapons ripped the the little ship apart. Then the lighter armament began to score.
Already, Beaverford was beyond saving.
Her lifesaving boats and rafts were smashed and burning, flames engulfed her bridge. Everywhere, men were dead and dying.
Still Capt. Pettigrew threw his ship about in a frenzy of baffling contortions, his unknown DEMS gunners shoving round after round into the smoking breeeches.
Two hours! Three hours! Four hours!
Now, however, Beaverford‘s guns were falling silent as German rounds ripped through her thin sides, blasting machinery and men.
“Taking advantage of the respite, the convoy steamed on into the night. Said one skipper who sweated his nine-knot ship safely to port—at 12 1/2 knots—“I never saw coal shovelled so fast in my life!”
Finally—five full hours later—Beaverford‘s guns fell silent.
No longer did Capt. Pettigrew command her gutted bridge, barking orders to the helmsman and engineers below in her ravaged belly. Flames were sweeping her 503-foot length, the seas pouring through her gaping wounds.
Closing for the kill, the Admiral Scheer honoured her with the only torpedo of the entire engagement. In an awesome blast of flame and exploding ammunition and fuel, Beaverford vanished from the face of the sea, the waves quickly reforming amidst a cloud of steam.
Only fragments marked her passing. Not one of her courageous men survived.
Beaverford‘s sacrifice didn’t go unrewarded. The Scheer had used so much ammunition in destroying her, Capt. Krancke had to abandon his intention to seek out the rest of the convoy. While withdrawing, he encountered the freighter Fresno City and sank her. Then he ran for home.
Of 38 ships in the convoy, he’d managed to sink two freighters and the valiant Beaverford and Jervis Bay. 34 vitally laden freighters and tankers made it safely to port.
Newspapers and radio flashed the news of Jervis Bay’s epic battle throughout the free world. Capt. Edward Stephen Fogarty Fegen justly received the Victoria Cross, the Commonwealth’s highest award for gallantry.
As for the valiant Beaverford, it was three years before a Glasgow newspaper carried a brief article which gave her story for the first time.
Said a Victoria newspaper editorial of Jervis Bay: “To the illustrious company who have upheld the honour of Britain and saved her…from her enemies at sea there will be added new names. Drake and Grenville, Blake and Frobisher and Calder, Howe, Hood and Nelson, Jellico, and Harwood and McCarthy. These names have been perpetuated, or will be perpetuated, in the annals of the sea. Vessels of the Royal Navy years hence will be called after Harwood and McCarthy, of Ajax and Exeter [which had driven the German pocket battleship Graf Spee to its destruction during the first months of the war].
“Now there is a new hero, whose personal gallantry has seldom been matched: Capt. Fogarty Fegen of the Jervis Bay. His name, too, will live forever.”
Let’s also remember Capt. Hugh Pettigrew and his gallant men of the heroic S.S.Beaverford whose own heroism and sacrifice have gone all but unrecognized these past 78 years.
That TW is one hell of a story. Based on what I read here their should have been two VC’s handed out that day. Not to down play the gallantry of the Jervis Bay and her crew, but the crew of the S.S. Beaverford looked to have saved the day for the rest of the convoy. As is usual of our country of Canada, we sweep these actions under the rug as if we are ashamed of what we achieve.
You hit the nail on the head, Brian!
This is why I’ve been telling the story of the gallant S.S. Beaverford for more than 30 years. The sad fact is, that for every VC awarded, probably 100 worthy acts of heroism went unacknowledged, for a multitude of reasons.
That said, they didn’t award VCs to all the non-officers above and below decks who manned a ship to the bitter end.
All we can do is to remember them. As the first of three generations of my family who didn’t have to go to war, I am forever grateful of the sacrifices of my family members who did serve. So I try to remember them, and every other Canadian man and woman who served in uniform or have contributed in other ways to Canada’s war efforts and peacekeeping missions.
Thank you for speaking up for the good men of the good ship S.S. Beaverford.
I suppose a Victoria Cross ca not be awarded to every individual serviceman so perhaps that is why unit commendations are awarded when the whole unit goes above and beyond the call of duty.
The sad fact is, Brian, that with the exception of single acts of bravery, the highest honours were restricted to the officer in command. Even though he couldn’t have done it on his own. –TW
Comment *but it is only a story, invented a few years later. None of it is true. The heroic self-sacrifice of the Jervis Bay really happened.
My Grandads brother was killed at 17 onboard the S.S. Beaverford. Still have his very last letter home.Iv grown up hearing about this ship and only hope one day all these brave men get honoured and recognised.
RIP brave Crew.
Perhaps you are aware, Scott, that a second armed merchant ship, HMS Jervis Bay, did earn for its captain a Victoria Cross in this same convoy action? I guess the Admiralty or whoever thought one VC was sufficient? I’ve chosen to acknowledge the heroism of the Beaverford precisely because, to my knowledge, her captain and crew have been all but overlooked by most historians. So goes history… TW
Hi, I am doing a project on the S.S. Beaverford for school and I need a primary source from this event. If it’s ok with you could you send a picture of this letter to qobra355@gmail.com because this sounds like an amazing primary source.
Thanks
Hi, Scott; Canadian Pacific was the primary source as noted in the story. –TWP
There is also a book
The Battleship Scheer by
H.J. Krancke, Admiral Theodor, & Brennecke
It is Admiral Kranke’s autobiography (with some ghost writing)
There is no ISBN but on Amazon it is/was
ASIN : B0007JCEH6
The English language Publisher is William Kimber; First Edition (1 Jan. 1956) Hardcover : 200 pages
There was at least on later edition/reprint in 1958 and it is a translation of the original in German(my own copy is out on loan so I cant get you details of that)
Alan
Thanks, Alan. I have a pretty large library on Canada’s roles in both world wars but not these books. –TW
Comment *I have a copy of this under the title, “Pocket Battleship”.
Krancke’s account is (as I have explained elsewhere in this thread) totally contrary to the mythical one given here.
In your article you say “As for the valiant Beaverford, it was three years before a Glasgow newspaper carried a brief article which gave her story for the first time.”
Can you give me some more details? I have a transcript from the Toronto Star and I have seen (in Coventry Museum) part of an article about the Beaverford as some of the crew were local but I’ve not come across a Glasgow article and Glasgow was where Captain Hugh Pettigrew was living – in the same house I was brought up in!
Hi, Alan. The bulk of my article is based upon a history of S.S. Beaverford in the Canadian Pacific files which was provided to me at the time (1960s). It didn’t identify the Glasgow newspaper article further, I’m afraid.
May the heroic men of S.S. Beaverford never be forgotten! –TWP
PS:
What a small world–that you were raised in the same house where Capt. Pettigrew lived. Have you tried googling him or Glasgow newspapers? –TW
Hi TWP,
Thanks for the update.
Capt. Hugh Pettigrew was my Grandfather and my mother (Hughina) and father and family moved back to Mosspark in the 50’s to look after my Grandmother.
I have Googled him extensively and not found much – not even his will! Though we (mainly an Aussie cousin) have now got a fairly complete list of the boats he served on and copies of his Mates and Masters certificates.
As far as contemporaneous records go there are transcripts of the radio messages from HX84 in the National Archives at Kew which I have seen and were used in a couple of books.
The attack on HX84 was around the time of the Coventry Blitz. In Coventry Museum they have a montage of the newspaper reports of the Coventry Blitz. One part of the montage has reports from the local paper and at the edge was part of a report of the sinking of Jervis bay and Beaverford as some of the are were from the area though most seem to have come from Caithness & Sutherland. The Midland Evening News was on microfilm but not online when I spotted this and there were a couple of excited archivists (a rare sight!) when I explained why I wanted access.
Thank you, Alan. I’m going to pull my Beaverford file and see if contains any more sources which I’ll pass on to you. By all means, continue to do whatever you can to learn more about your grandfather and his final voyage. The captain of the Jervis Bay was awarded the Victoria Cross as I recall.
Remembrance Day, to me, is year-round, not just November 11th. I take every opportunity to honour the men and women of our armed forces, past and present. –TW
I’ve just been researching the ‘old boys’ from my school who are listed on the Skinners’ School War Memorial – and found one of them to be the radio officer Richard Frank Woolley. I’ll soon be sharing this story with everyone connected with the school so thank you for keeping it alive.
And thank you, too, Richard, for remembering radio officer Richard Woolley. Keeping history alive, as you put it, isn’t just a passion of mine but a crusade. Cheers, TW
PS: My father was career RCN and served in the North Atlantic. He told me that he always thought the real heroes were the merchant mariners because they couldn’t shoot back; couldn’t do anything to help themselves, really, but to rely on their naval escorts.
Apologies. When I first loaded this page my comment was gone, and not visible anywhere. As soon as I posted my acerbic follow up, it Suddenly appeared.
Awkward.
Sorry, I can’t find your comment.
The legend of the SS Beaverford and her supposedly ‘heroic defence’ of Convoy HX84 first appeared in a Scottish newspaper in 1944 and was elaborated on in a book by Bernard Edwards, “The Convoy will Scatter” , currently published by Pen and Sword Maritime. It is reproduced on several websites, including this one, and is passed off as fact. But I prefer to call it a legend, or a myth.
As the story goes, once HMS Jervis Bay had been sunk, valiantly defending the convoy, the Beaverford, armed with just two tiny guns, took over and fought the Admiral Scheer for some hours (five hours according to some sources) in a game of cat and mouse, thus enabling most of the convoy to escape.
I first came across this story a few years ago, and thought at once that it seemed absurdly far fetched. Moreover, It is impossible to find a reliable or original source for it. for one thing, there were no survivors From the Beaverford to tell the story, so where is it from? Not from the Admiral Scheer. The Scheer’s captain, Theodor Krancke, told the story of the Scheer’s first war cruise in a book published post-war (the English title was ‘Pocket Battleship’ but it also appeared under the title ‘Battleship Scheer’). Krancke pays tribute to the brave fight of Jervis Bay and recounts the story of how a pugnacious lone merchant ship intercepted a few days later fought back with its puny gun (this was the SS Tribesman) but as for the supposedly desperate fight with the Beaverford – nothing. He notes only that when caught late that evening fleeing at speed to the south, the Beaverford was quickly hit hard, but was slow to sink because of a deck cargo of timber keeping her afloat. To save time and ammunition a torpedo was fired to finish her. Krancke noted that the Beaverford had previously sent out ‘raider warning’ reports on her wireless and that her last signal, intercepted as the Scheer caught up with her, was “it is our turn now, goodbye”.
The timings of the various sinkings also contradicts the usual accounts. The Beaverford was the last but one ship to be caught. The Kenbane Head was sunk less than an hour before (and according to Krancke, did put up a brief fight, even when burning fiercely) and the Fresno City was shelled and left ablaze just over an hour later. There is no room in those timings for any five hour (or even 30 minute) fight with the Beaverford. The Fresno City’s captain’s log recorded that they saw the Beaverford attacked and set on fire, bearing X degrees SSE, 10 miles distant, but again there is no mention of any fight back.
So,
– the one first hand account we have, from the only captain who could have witnessed the entire action that evening, namely Krancke of the Admiral Scheer, utterly contradicts the Beaverford legend.
– There is some corroboration of his account in the log of the Fresno City.
– There is no surviving account from anyone on the Beaverford, because she was lost with all hands. And yet some accounts pretend to be privy to Captain Pettigrew’s thought and tactics. How so?
– Other Merchant ships were scattering in various directions, into the darkness. Nobody on any of those ships could possibly have seen more than a small fraction of what Krancke saw.
I mean no disrespect to the men who died aboard the Beaverford. They were no doubt brave men who did their duty to the end, but after the captain and crew of the Jervis Bay, the real hero of the night was surely the captain of the Swedish freighter Stureholm, who with the agreement of his entire crew disobeyed standing orders and went back to rescue the Jervis Bay survivors.
I have to conclude, on the available evidence, that the story of the Beaverford is nothing more than a wartime myth.
The story of S.S. Beaverford was provided to me by the historical department of the CPR in the 1960s. They obviously accepted it at face value as did I, its coming from such a credible source (the CPR).
Your comment is now posted for my readers to judge accordingly. I try to be accurate, objective and respectful at all times, particularly when my stories have anything to do with Canada’s wartime record and the men and women who served. –TWP
I am drawn to this discussion because Hugh Pettigrew was my Grandfather too. My admiration for his exploits is perhaps coloured by the family ties. I became interested in Hugh Pettigrew’s World War 1 voyages after I found, in my mother’s papers, a letter to him which had contained a cheque for £25 for sighting a German submarine in the Irish Sea in 1918. The writer demanded Hugh thank the London shipping gentleman who had arranged the cheque! (I laughed) – With this letter was a “matter of fact” typed account of the torpedoing of the SS Medora. The German U boat took the First officer and Radio operator as prisoners leaving the rest of the crew including Hugh to sail to Ireland in the open lifeboats.
Last time my Scots cousin Alan Crombie visited me in Australia he had discovered that Pa Pettigrew was at Gallipoli. An Australian retired researcher, I was curious and I uncovered his WW1 voyages, thanks to the Nova Scotian Maritime museum. You will be surprised to read that only a small sample of documents, like the ones I used for this research, exist. The UK folk decided they had too many in their archives and destroyed a great many old shipping records. Fortunately the Canadians rescued some and they are still available to folk as far away Australia . Crew Lists show that Hugh Pettigrew sailed from Montreal in the SS Scotian in September 1914 with the Canadian Expeditionary forces in the Canadian Armada. This was a dangerous exercise with U-boats in the Atlantic and around the English coast.
The SS Scotian became a prison ship for German internees for a period after this voyage.
In April 1915,Hugh signed again on the SS Scotian and sailed between the UK, Alexandria, Malta &Mudros. His agreement was marked in hand writing “To be employed on Govt Service whenever and wherever required by the master for any period not exceeding 24 months” First the ship carried men and supplies to the Gallipoli peninsula (The first mention of the SS Scotian at the Dardanelles was in a UK soldier’s letter home in May 1915.) The wounded were taken to Alexandria and often home to the UK aboard the SS Scotian. It was no simple sailing exercise -An Australian troop ship, the Southland, in a convoy with the Scotian was torpedoed and sank with the loss of 9 lives on their way to Mudros (September 1915). I have no doubt there were other close encounters. As the war progressed the Scotian had a few changes of captain but Hugh Pettigrew remained on board signing off September 1916. By then the boat was sailing between the UK, Alexandria and Marseilles. My story can be corroborated with archived material from Canada, the UK and Australia. A number of Australian, South African soldiers and New Zealand nursing staff travelled in the Mediterranean in 1915-16 and left letters and photographs from their time on the SS Scotian in various archives.
There is very little historical documentation of the merchant seamen and their heroism during both world wars. Looking at Pa Pettigrew’s long voyage of 1915-1916 and finding soldiers’ accounts of the war in the Mediterranean gives me some confidence that the Beaverford story would describe the actions of a brave sailor who was rarely at home in Glasgow for 40 of his 60 years. He sailed Canadian Pacific ships for at least 30 years. Even during the depression 1929-32, when cruise ships were mothballed he remained on board at anchorage in Loch Long. My grandmother visiting weekly from Glasgow with food for the crew.
There is a a sea faring, third Pettigrew cousin, who has compiled his version of the Beaverford story He has incorporated the Admiralty bearings and time line of the battle of November 1940 and these fit with the timing and position of the Beaverford’s demise.
Using the premise that there were no survivors to tell the story can be placed in another context: “neither Professor Hirst nor the 3 living Pettigrews were at the battle.” why comment? I consider that the bones of the “embroidered” story are not a myth . Many sailors of the Merchant Navy were heroes – family ties or none.
Thank you, Deirdre!!!
My father was career RCN who served in the North Atlantic. He told me he thought that the Merchant Mariners were the bravest of all those who served in convoy duty because they sailed, mostly, in unarmed ships, relying upon their naval escort for protection. Those who sailed on tankers faced the additional threat of being burned alive if torpedoed.
Yet it took the Canadian government 40 years to acknowledge their vital contribution to the war effort. Without convoys, Britain could not have survived.
It was men like Capt.Hugh Pettigrew and his crew who kept the supply lifeline open. God bless him and everyone like him who risked their lives for King and Country.
Finally, on a personal note: I’m the first of three generations of my family who didn’t have to go to war. Both my grandfathers were disabled, a great uncle killed. My father and uncles served, and survived, the Second World War. Because my uncle had moved his family to Seattle to work in a shipyard, when my cousin Denny came of age, he was sent to Vietnam. But I got to stay home, sound and safe in Canada.
This is why, to me, Remembrance Day is the most important day of the year and why I write, with respect bordering on reverence, of those who have served Canada in both world wars, Korea and in peacekeeping missions. Men (and women) like Capt. Hugh Pettigrew.
And I shall continue to do so as long as I’m able. Best wishes, TW
Comment *there were no survivors from the Beaverford, but many witnessed her sinking on the Admiral Scheer, and the sinking was also witnessed from the Fresno City, 10 miles away. The captain of the Scheer wrote an account of it in his postwar book, Pocket Battleship. It is clear from that account that the Beaverford didn’t fight the Scheer at all.
Bruce Allen Watson in his book “Atlantic Convoys and Nazi Raiders” uses the same material as Mr Hirst- Kranke’s memoirs written by H J Brennecke,(a war correspondent for the German Navy).
He reaches a different conclusion on the Beaverford:
“…… their actions kept the Scheer focused on them, allowing others in the convoy to put distance between their ships and the raider”
He describes Krancke’s memoir as “somewhat sanitised by the absence of any explanation for “continued firing” on disabled ships (described as “target practice” by a survivor from the Jervis Bay) and considers that
“in a perfect world” Krancke “should have answered for what he ordered”
I am sorry to have to keep banging on about this, but to what actions of the Beaverford does this refer? Krancke’s account says there was no resistance from that ship. In order to cast doubt on his first-hand account, one would need a credible First hand source that provides a different account. Had Capt Pettigrew or one of his officers or men survived, they might perhaps have provided one, but none did survive. Any yet the detailed story that we see reproduced on these pages could only – if true – have come from someone on the Beaverford. Which is of course impossible.
As an addendum:
Bruce Allen Watson also comments on the Swedish Stureholm’s heroic rescue of 68 Jervis Bay survivors. When they reached Halifax the ship was reassigned to another convoy. Captain Olander and a numberof his Swedish crew refused to sail her again. Some of the survivors from the Jervis Bay and the San Demetrio took their places. The Stureholm was torpedoed by a U-boat and sank 11 December 1940.
I’ve given–and shall continue to give–full viewpoint to my readers, bearing in mind that the real purpose of this website is to remember and honour our heroes. –TW
Comment * I have been researching my dad’s side of the family and believe my grandad s nephew Frank Brian Symonds died on SS Beaverford. He was 16 years of age. Does anyone have a photo of the memorial in London? Sadly I was in London in September 2022 and didn’t know about it. Also would there be any photos of Cadets a d crew ?
Regards
Julie
This item from Wikipedia should be of interest to you, Julie:
Memorials
Tower Hill Memorial, the UK Merchant Navy monument in London, records the names of all 77 members of Beaverford’s crew who were killed when she was sunk. The names of the three Canadians in her crew, Clifford Carter, Laughlin Elwood Stewart, William Lane Thibideau, are inscribed on the Sailors’ Memorial at Point Pleasant Park in Halifax, Nova Scotia which overlooks the harbour mouth whence Beaverford made her final departure in 1940.[5]
In a special service on 20 May 1944 a painting and memorial plaque were installed at Downhills Central School, which had adopted Beaverford.[5] The plaque read “SS Beaverford, our ship, lost with all hands in action 5th November 1940”. The school was closed in 1964 as part of school amalgamations and both the painting and the memorial plaque disappeared. The plaque later turned up in a junk shop.[13]
Captain Pettigrew’s widow, HG Pettigrew, was welcomed in Halifax when she immigrated in 1948 and her late husband was lauded as the man “who took over the task of covering the convoy against the German pocket battleship… and gained five hours for the convoy before Beaverford was sank with all hands.”[14]
In 1946 Canadian Pacific perpetuated Beaverford’s name in the postwar restoration of its fleet when it acquired a replacement ship, Empire Kitchener, which it renamed Beaverford. Under that name she sailed until CP sold her in 1962.[15]
Comment *I have been hunting unsuccessfully for a photo of the memorial picture which I’m sure I have in the family files. (I will keep looking.) There was an article in the London Evening Standard 20 May 1944. about the Painting-My Grandmother unveiled the picture. iT “depicts a fine Atlantic freighter coming round the Nore into the Thames estuary at the end of another fast run home” painted by Mr S Stott. The Downshill headmaster Mr M.S Mercer told the newspaper “We adopted the Beaverford before the war and there were strong ties.”During the war the Downshill students were evacuated to Cambridge and sent parcels to her sailors. After the news of the sinking they raised 150 pounds of which 125pounds was sent to the Seaman’s hospital at Greewich. The article continues with ” on one of our visits we lost a boy- after a long search we found him absorbed in the explanations of “Sparks” in the wireless cabin- Last week that boy came to see me. He is now a wireless operator in the Merchant Navy”