Campaign Chronicle

Day 1: Monday, 20 December 1943

Seconds before 17:00 hours, Rear Admiral Maitland Boucher gave the order. A signal gun fired, its smoke whipped away by the strong southeasterly wind, and the flag signal for 'Convoy shall proceed' was hoisted above the Fort Kullyspell, which served as the admiral's flag-ship. The large, ponderous screws of nineteen merchant ships began to turn, and Convoy JW 55B got under way. Named after a Canadian trading post, the Fort Kullyspell was typical of the ships that made up the rest of the convoy. She was a brand new merchantman – a 'Victory Ship' – built at the West Coast Shipbuilders' Yard at Vancouver, and handed over to her new owners just four months earlier. Technically, the Canadian-built merchantman was owned by the Hall Brothers Shipping Company of Newcastle, Canada, but 'for the duration' she was operated on behalf of the Ministry of War Transport. Like other 'Victory Ships' of the 'Fort' class she was 441 feet in length and distinguished by having a single funnel, acentral island super-structure, and hatch spaces with cranes (derricks) fore and aft. On paper she displaced some 7,192 tons, although that morning, with her holds filled with crated aircraft and stores, she rode considerably lower in the water than usual.

Convoy JW 55B had gathered at the head of Loch Ewe, a deep water inlet some 10 miles long and 4 miles wide at its broadest point, just south of the Isle of Ewe. It was a remote spot, fringed with little hamlets, the largest of which was Poolewe. It was a beautiful, tranquil spot – if you liked that sort of thing. For the sailors on board the merchantmen and escort vessels it was idyllic, compared with where they were going. It took the best part of an hour for the gaggle of ships to pass the headland of Rubha na Sasan and enter the open Atlantic waters of The Minches. Nowadays, a solitary monument stands on that lonely, chilly headland, but in December 1943 it was garrisoned, and the convoy was watched by the bored, benumbed, men of the Artillery Regiment. Their job was to guard the entrance to the great sea loch. Gun emplacements, boom nets and anti-aircraft positions all played their part in turning this part of the West Coast of Scotland into one of the most important anchorages in Europe.

Once out in The Minches the ships turned to starboard and headed north-northeast, with the mainland of Scotland on their starboard side and the Isle of Lewis somewhere through the wintry darkness to port. By midnight the convoy was passing the shelter of the Butt of Lewis, the northern tip of the island, while Cape Wrath – the north-western tip of the Scottish mainland – lay 10 miles to starboard. The merchantmen and their escorts now began to feel the full force of the Atlantic swell as the ships steamed on through the darkness. The night of 21/22 December would prove uneventful – just the first leg of a long, cold, dangerous voyage.

Some 300 miles to the north, another group of ships was making preparations to put to sea. The Fighting Destroyer Escort, made up of ships from the 17th Destroyer Flotilla lying in the Skaalefjord (Skálafjordur) off Tórshavn, the capital of the Faeroe Islands, where their crews were taking on stores. Captain 'Bes' McCoy's flotilla was Convoy JW 55B's covering force, and its departure was scheduled to coincide with the arrival of the convoy at a rendezvous 64 degrees north – due north of the Faeroes and east of Iceland. The sailing of JW 55B had already been delayed twenty-four hours due to bad weather, so McCoy's men had a day's respite. If all went according to plan the destroyers would sail late the following evening.

Approximately 700 miles to the north-north-west Admiral Fraser's Force 2 was heading back to Akureyri on the Eyjafjördur, its bleak anchorage on Iceland's northern coast, having just escorted the pre-vious Convoy JW 55A all the way to the Kola Inlet. The flagship Duke of York was expected to arrive at Akureyri late the following evening. The force would then take on fuel and stores and return to sea fortyeight hours later, where it would provide long-range cover for Convoy JW 55B.

The final two elements in this giant operation were approximately 1,500 miles away from the Fort Kullyspell, lying in the desolate Soviet anchorage of the Kola Inlet. The nineteen merchantmen of Convoy JW 55A had reached the anchorage the evening before – late on 19 December, escorted by a force of Royal Navy cruisers. Kola Inlet was home to the Soviet Northern Fleet, and led to the port of Murmansk, where a railway ran south into the heart of Russia. Rear Admiral Burnett's Force 1 had reached its designated anchorage at Vaenga Bay just after midnight that morning – 20 December. The British warship anchorage was close but separate from the main Soviet naval base at Polyarni Inlet, which lay on the opposite side of the great waterway. 20 December was spent refuelling, as Force 1 prepared to put to sea again.

That afternoon a Convoy Conference was held on board the light cruiser Belfast, which served as Burnett's flagship. It was attended by the admiral, the convoy commodore, their respective staffs, and by the captains and masters of all the warships and merchantmen who were destined to take part in the forthcoming operation. Outgoing Convoy JW 55A had reached port safely but, given the limited cargo handling facilities available, it would take up to four weeks to unload all its stores. Therefore, the homeward bound convoy – designated RA 55A – consisted of merchant ships that had already spent some time in the inlet, anchored at Rosta, halfway between Vaenga Bay and Murmansk, on the exposed eastern side of the waterway. Seven lucky ships had arrived as part of JW 54B, and therefore had spent just seventeen days at Kola. The rest had arrived there almost four weeks before, as part of Convoy JW 54A. The captains involved must have been delighted to know they were finally heading home. The aim of the conference was to sort out any problems, talk strategy and tactics, and make sure everyone knew what to do. As Convoy JW 55B was steaming out of Loch Ewe, the Convoy Conference on board Belfast broke up and Burnett and his officers prepared for their evening's entertainment – a concert by the Soviet Red Banner Fleet Choir.

These five elements – the two convoys, the two covering forces, and the destroyer escort – were all vital parts in a colossal naval operation. When Rear Admiral Boucher ordered Convoy JW 55B to put to sea he started this operation in train, and like a well-oiled machine every constituent part – every warship and merchantman – had a particular role to play. Each ship was assigned a station and given orders to follow. Each naval force had particular roles within the overall task of screening the two convoys. Given the limitations and vagaries of naval communications, every group of ships was operating to a timetable, its scheduled day and time of sailing designed to tie in with the movements of all the other groups. In fact, the whole operation was choreographed like an intricate dance, and if all went well the performance would end in success. However, much could go wrong: the weather was deteriorating and meteorological reports predicted that by Christmas Day the operational area off the northern coast of Norway would be battered by a gale that could reach Storm Force 11. Given the number of ships involved the chances of mechanical failure were high, while senior naval commanders knew frombitter experience just how difficult it could be to control a multi-national convoy, whose merchant ships were commanded by independent-minded masters.

Then there were the Germans. Of all the variables that could influence the outcome of the operation, the enemy was the most unpredictable. The Germans maintained a screen of U-boats across the path of the Arctic convoys, patrolling between the southern limit of the Arctic ice pack and the Norwegian coast near North Cape. German reconnaissance aircraft covered much of the Norwegian Sea and Barents Sea, making it likely that Allied naval movements would be spotted and reported to the German Naval High Command.

Finally there was the Scharnhorst, lurking in the Altenfjord, and waiting to pounce. Together with her escort of modern destroyers, she represented a powerful fighting force – more than a match for the cruisers of Force 1, and fast enough to outpace the battleship that formed the backbone of Force 2. Given the deteriorating weather – and a dose of luck – the Germans could pounce on Convoy JW 55B or even RA 55A before the covering forces could react.

Orchestrating this great naval operation was Admiral Bruce Fraser, who flew his flag in the battleship Duke of York. The battleship constituted his floating headquarters, where intelligence was gathered, positions plotted and orders issued. While he remained in control of the operation, the real masterminds were entombed in an underground concrete bunker beneath the Admiralty Building in London's Whitehall. They gathered every scrap of information, including reports from all the warships involved, British submarines on patrol off the Altenfjord, Norwegian resistance agents, and the aircraft of Coastal Command, the Fleet Air Arm and the Royal Air Force. Above all, they gathered German radio intercepts, much of which could be decoded thanks to a major British intelligence breakthrough.

German naval signals were broadcast after being passed through an Enigma machine, a mechanical computer that turned the signal into a code the Germans considered unbreakable. In May 1941 the British captured an Enigma machine for themselves and managed to keep their acquisition a secret from the Germans. By late 1943 the majority of German naval signals were being intercepted and decoded by British Naval Intelligence, and consequently the Admiralty had information of German naval movements almost as quickly as their counterparts in the German Naval High Command. Codenamed 'Ultra', this intelligence source gave the Allies a significant edge over the Germans. When the Admiralty deemed it important, then details of these 'Ultra' signal intercepts were passed to Admiral Fraser and his staff. These would allow him to know when the Scharnhorst put to sea, and therefore would give him a better chance of placing his warships between the Germans and the convoys.

That evening, as the Duke of York passed Jan Mayen Island heading towards Iceland, 650 miles to the west another admiral was holding a meeting with his staff on board his flagship. They discussed the latest batch of signals from patrolling U-boats, and the implications of a dramatic statement made by the head of the German Navy earlier that day. Konter-Admiral Erich Bey was a destroyer commander at heart, but less than six weeks before, on 9 November, he had assumed command of the Kriegsmarine's Battlegroup stationed in the Altenfjord. In effect, this meant he commanded the battlecruiser Scharnhorst and her escort group of five destroyers, although his flagship remained the disabled Tirpitz, anchored in the Kåfjord, the southern arm of the Altenfjord. A week after assuming command his Staff Office on the Tirpitz received a report that an enemy convoy was passing Bear Island, and he put the Scharnhorst on three hours' notice for sailing.

The only German forces at sea at the time were the U-boats of Gruppe Eisenbart, commanded by Kapitän-zur-See Rudolf Peters from his shore base in Narvik. Somehow this convoy – JW 54A – had managed to evade all German U-boats, reaching the Kola Inlet without incident (the bulk of these merchant ships would later form the core of Convoy RA 55A). However, Peters had a bunch of good excuses: he only had four operational submarines at his disposal, the seas were rough, and during the short hours of daylight visibility was extremely limited. His screen was little more than a token, and it would only be with great luck that his U-boats would be able to detect, let alone attack, an enemy convoy. As Peters put it in his diary on 7 December: 'I have to acknowledge that surveillance of the Bear Island Gap is not practicable with the means at my disposal.' However, the failure to attack the convoy rankled with Kapitän-zur-See Rolf Johannesson, commanding the five operational destroyers of the 4th Destroyer Flotilla. He wrote: 'The 17th of November 1943 is a day that deserves to be remembered. That was the day we relinquished all initiative in the war, and went on to the defensive as far as surface vessels are concerned.' He was wrong: a month later Johannesson and his destroyers would be committed to the attack.

Although the sortie against JW 54A never happened, the fuel tanks of the German battle cruiser had been topped up and her commander, Kapitän-zur-See Fritz Hintze, felt it was a pity to waste the opportunity this presented. Therefore, on 25 November he took the Scharnhorst out to sea to test her engines. The tests proved highly successful and the Scharnhorst returned to her usual lair in the Langefjord, a western arm of the Altenfjord. He repeated the sortie on 14 December, taking the Scharnhorst round to the Burfjord just outside the mouth of the Altenfjord. Early on 19 December, as the Scharnhorst returned to her old mooring in the Langefjord, Peters in Narvik sent the admiral news of a fresh convoy sighting. The day before, U-636 sent a confusing report suggesting that an enemy ship had been spotted in the Barents Sea. That night the commander of U-354 reported seeing star shells on the horizon. It was becoming clear that another convoy had slipped past the Germans and reached the safety of the Kola Inlet.

Having missed Convoy JW 55A, Bey must have felt the pressure mounting. After all, the reason his Battlegroup remained at readiness was to launch an attack against an enemy convoy. He had known since 18 November that the Allies had resumed their Arctic convoys, and he knew that it was inevitable that he would be ordered to attack the next one, regardless of the odds against him. On 19 December the head of the Kriegsmarine, Grossadmiral Karl Dönitz, flew to the 'Wolfsschanze' ('Wolf's Lair'), Hitler's operational headquarters at Rastenberg in East Prussia. He was there to take part in a two-day Führer Conference, where Hitler and his senior commanders discussed strategy. Fearing his political position would be undermined, Dönitz reported that the Arctic convoys had resumed, and that the Scharnhorst and her escorts would attack the next outward-bound convoy if a favourable opportunity presented itself. As he spoke, Convoy JW 55B was preparing to sail from Loch Ewe – the fourth such convoy in five weeks. This time there would be no hesitation: the honour of the German surface fleet would be redeemed by a daring strike, and the Scharnhorst would finally sortie in earnest.

Day 2: Tuesday, 21 December 1943

Dawn found Convoy JW 55B to the west of Orkney, still heading north-north-east in a lumpy swell. The ships were scattered over several miles, as the station-keeping abilities of several of the merchant captains was less than naval in its precision. At 08:00 hours Rear Admiral Boucher gave the order to adopt the approved convoy formation, and while the admiral's yeomen bombarded their charges with radio messages and flag signals, the escorts began the tiresome business of shepherding wayward charges into their assigned position.

The convoy was arranged in six columns, each a nautical mile apart, with between two and four ships in each column. In theory the merchantmen in each of these columns kept half a nautical mile apart. The Fort Kullyspell was the lead ship of Column 3, in the centre of the convoy, while the Deputy Convoy Commander in the Fort Nakasley took station at the head of Column 1. The Assistant Convoy Commander and his small staff were on board the Ocean Pride, the middle ship in Column 5. Probably the most vulnerable ship in the convoy was the Norlys, a 9,900-ton tanker, built in Hamburg, but which now flew a Panamanian flag. Boucher tucked her in the centre of the convoy, behind his own flagship. This meant that Convoy JW 55B was spread over some 5 miles of ocean, stretching for a mile and a half astern of the flagship. Speed was increased to 91/2 knots – virtually top speed for what was rated a 'Fast Convoy' – defined as a force capable of making 10 knots.