Here we see the massive six-engine (four pulling, two pushing) French Latécoère 521 flying boat, Lieutenant de Vaisseau Paris, at anchor while visiting Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Florida, 14 January 1936. The aircraft, the only one of her type built, was at Pensacola during her travels to celebrate 300 years of the French in the Americas in 1935 and was damaged during a hurricane at the station, later repaired.
NARA 80-CF-4935-1
French Lieutenant de Vaisseau Paris being fueled on the beach while visiting Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Florida, 14 January 1936. 80-CF-4935-3a
In its civilian service configuration, the FLVP was designed to transport up to 72 passengers in luxurious conditions, while simultaneously being the largest aircraft built in France and one of the first large passenger aircraft capable of flying trans-Atlantic routes. Powered by a half-dozen Hispano-Suiza 860hp V-12s, she was 103 feet long with a 161-foot wingspan.
Used by Air France on several record-setting proving runs in the late 1930s, when WWII came, FLVP was acquired by the French Navy’s air arm (Aviation Navale) and used for maritime patrol alongside her three upgraded Latécoère 523 sisters (l’Algol, l’Aldébaran, and l’Altair). As part of Flotilla E.6, based in Port-Lyautey, Morocco, they conducted patrols over the Atlantic.
After the fall of France, FLVP was flown to Berre, near Marseille, and remained there for safekeeping by the Vichy government until November 1942, and then by the Germans, who captured her intact after the Torch landings. Following the launch of Operation Dragoon by the Allies in August 1944 to liberate southern France, the aircraft was deliberately destroyed by the retreating German occupying forces.
Recently up at auction with Morphys, a very rare and desirable Japanese Type 5 Garand semi-automatic rifle, one of approximately 125 of its type assembled in early 1944.
This outstanding experimental example in standard Japanese 7.7mm chambering, numbered ‘13’ on the underside of the barrel. Action nearly identical to that of a standard American Garand, although the 8-round en bloc clip was replaced with a fixed internal 10-round magazine that extended past the wood line.
Accompanied by an original March 14, 1946-dated capture certificate listing “ONE JAPANESE RIFLE” as the property of Colonel Walter D. Buie, a 1920 West Point graduate who earned two Legions of Merit, first on the staff of the XXIII Corps stateside in 1943-44 and then as commander of the 272d Infantry Regiment, 69th Infantry Division in NW Europe in 1944-45. Post VE-Day, Buie left his post with the 272 and joined the 25th Division as Chief of Staff in the Pacific. Also included was a period shipping crate addressed to Major Walter Buie at Fort Leavenworth and also his wife in N.C.
Someone got a deal, as it sold for $48,000 against an estimated range of $60,000-$75,000.
It belongs in a museum.
Below, a Type 5 (SN 53) compared to a production M-1 Garand in November 1945 at Springfield Armory:
The crew of a twin-engine RAF Armstrong Whitworth (AW.38) Whitley Mk III medium bomber, likely of No. 4 Group, enjoy an YMCA tea car in attendance, 10 January 1941. This variant of the bomber used a four-man crew: First Pilot, 2nd Pilot/Navigator, Bomb Aimer/forward gunner, and Rear Gunner. Only 80 Mark IIIs, with their powered Nash & Thompson nose turret and powered retractable twin ventral “dustbin” turret, were made.
IWM (HU 104642)
The Whitley is all but forgotten as a WWII bomber, even though 1,814 were made across seven variants, with the stretched fuselage/Rolls-Royce Merlin-powered Mk VII being the most common with 1,465 constructed.
Originally built to the design of a transport, the Whitley had a 177-mile cruising speed and a 1,315-mile range in its Mark III variant, powered by twin 795 hp Armstrong Siddeley Tiger Mk IX engines.
These low-powered engines, coupled with the bomber’s rear stabilizer, earned it the name the “flying barn door” but allowed it to land at speeds of just 60mph, and would serve it well in night bombing.
When WWII began in 1939, the RAF had seven operational Whitley squadrons, six of those (Nos. 10, 51, 58, 77, 78, and 102) in No. 4 Group, the only standing night bomber force in the world at the time. Of those six squadrons, three flew Mark IIIs.
The group’s first operation was on the night of 3 September 1939, just 11 hours after Britain declared war on Germany, when 10 Whitley Mk.IIIs of Nos. 51 and 58 Squadrons took off on a leaflet-dropping (“Nickelling”) sortie in the Ruhr and over Hamburg and Bremen.
This leaflet was Britain’s first propaganda effort of World War II. It is printed on both sides by “His Majesty’s Stationery Office” and was dropped by aircraft on September 3-4, 1939. In part, it warns German citizens that the German government has forced a war on Britain, which promises to involve mankind in a greater calamity than World War I. The Führer’s assertions of peaceful intentions have proven as worthless as his claims that: “We have no more territorial claims to make in Europe.” “British Propaganda Leaflet Dropped on Germans” (1939). Bulmash Family Holocaust Collection. 2019.2.149. https://digital.kenyon.edu/bulmash/1513
By the end of September, the RAF had dropped around 18 million leaflets over Germany. So much toilet paper.
Operating forward from Villeneuve airfield in France in January 1940, Whitleys of 4Gp’s 77 Squadron dropped leaflets over Prague and Vienna, penetrating deep into the Reich.
Switching from paper to iron, 4Gp’s Whitleys rained bombs on the Kriegsmarine seaplane base at Hornum on 20 March 1940, on Operation Haddock– the first RAF bombing raid on Italy– in June, and then, during the Battle of Britain in August/September 1940, took part in eight raids over Germany stretching as far as Berlin.
Whitley Bombers Over Berlin by Margaret Nash IWM ART LD 827
After April 1941, 4Gp began transitioning from Whitleys to more advanced Vickers Wellington medium and Handley Page Halifax heavy bombers, with the shift done by May 1942. The last raid by Whitleys was done by 58 Squadron on the night of 29/30 April against occupied Ostend in Belgium.
In all, Whitleys flew 8,996 sorties with Bomber Command 1939-42, dropped 9,845 tons of bombs, millions of psyops leaflets, and suffered 269 aircraft lost in action.
Coastal Command Mk VII variants, with longer legs, remained in front-line service until early 1943.
The type finished the war in more secondary line and auxiliary support roles (training, freighter, glider tugs, SOE support drops, etc.), then unceremoniously discarded afterward.
Over the past several years, she was “carefully restored by the museum team with the paint removed layer by layer and analyzed, enabling the original camouflage to be identified and repainted to its very original pattern.”
The aircraft had been overpainted several times between 1940 and 1964 for various reasons, and all references to the very unusual original color scheme had seemingly been lost.
Only a few color images of these aircraft exist from the 1940’s, and due to color variations in image processing, have led to many debates about exactly what colors these aircraft were painted.
The wings, tail plane, rudder, and a few small panels still retained their original Grumman factory finish beneath the later over-painted layers, and after 6 years of skilled detail conservation work, the team has revealed and preserved these original and unique painted areas.
Sadly, the fuselage section had been stripped to bare metal before 1964, and so the team has recreated this missing portion with a newly painted finish.
Originally ordered by the French Navy, 81 of these aircraft were diverted to Britain with the fall of France in May 1940. By the end of the war, only a few of the French batch remained; by 1946, AL246 was the only known survivor.
AL246 spent most of her service life in Scotland at Donibristle and Machrihanish. From 1944, she was used as an instructional airframe at Loughborough Aeronautical College and transferred to Yeovilton in the late 1950s. In 1964, she was presented to the Fleet Air Arm Museum and has been on permanent display ever since.
Initially named the Martlet by the Royal Navy, they were re-named Wildcats in 1944 to align with combined U.S. and British operations.
A staggering 1,123 Fleet Air Arm Martlets operated in all theatres of war, including Norway, the Mediterranean, North Africa, and the Far East, making the stubby little Grumman catfighter one of the most numerous of British WWII RN aircraft.
Martlet fighters aboard HMS Formidable in the Mediterranean Sea, 1942
Martlet MkII British Fleet Air Arm F4F Wildcat No. 888 Squadron, parked at La Senia air base, Oran, Algeria, 14 December 1942, USN photo
Sub-Lieutenant Eric M.Brown, R.N.V.R., Fleet Air Arm, with a Grumman Martlet Mk. I, circa 1941.
Cold War, Soviet Ships. Mediterranean Sea. January 1976.
A Fighter Squadron 32 (VF 32), F-14A Tomcat fighter aircraft seen in full color livery while in flight near a Soviet “Kresta II” class guided missile cruiser underway below. The Tomcat was assigned on board the aircraft carrierUSS John F. Kennedy (CV 67).
Note that the Cat is “dressed for work,” carrying a mixture of Phoenix, Sparrow, and Sidewinder missiles.
Photograph received January 1976. U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 428-GX-K-112540
The squadron has a lot of “firsts” on its sheet.
VF-32, the “Fighting Swordsmen” or “Gypsies” depending on which year you are talking about, originated on 1 February 1945, as Bombing Fighting (VBF) 3, after the old “Felix the Cat” Fighter Squadron (VF) 3 was split into two squadrons. VBF-3 joined Carrier Air Group 3 aboard USS Yorktown (CV 10) operating in the Pacific theater. Flying F6F-5 Hellcats, VBF-3 pilots became the first Navy carrier-based pilots to attack the homeland of the Japanese Empire. During heavy action, the squadron shot down 24 Japanese aircraft for which the Swordsmen received the Presidential Unit Citation.
By 1948, they had been redesignated VF-32 and were flying Corsairs, aircraft they would use to good effect in Korea from the deck of USS Leyte (CV 32). The squadron had Jesse Brown and Thomas Hudner for that cruise.
Ensign Jesse L. Brown, USN. In the cockpit of an F4U-4 Corsair fighter, circa 1950. He was the first African-American to be trained by the Navy as a Naval Aviator, and as such, he became the first African-American Naval Aviator to see combat. Brown flew with Fighter Squadron 32 (VF-32) from USS Leyte (CV-32). Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. USN 1146845.
Finishing out that war, they were the first squadron to field the F9F-6 Cougar and later the Navy’s first supersonic squadron when they switched to a different Corsair, the F-8, which they flew during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
By 1966, in early F-4B Phantoms, they logged 940 sorties over Vietnam from USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA 42).
Then they entered their Tomcat period in 1974– an aircraft they used to good effect, often from JKF, over Lebanon, Grenada, against Libya, Bosnia, the Gulf War, and OIF, also grabbing the Admiral Clifton Award numerous times.
They hugged the “Bombcat” a tearful goodbye in 2005, capping a 31-year run with the F-14 platform, and shifted to Rhinos, flying F-18F Super Hornets since then as the NAS Oceana-based VFA-32.
In addition to multiple GWOT deployments, on 14 July 2024, an unidentified female pilot in VFA-32 became the first American female pilot to engage and kill an air-to-air contact as part of 1,500 combat missions in support of Operations Inherent Resolve and Prosperity Guardian.
If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”
Warship Wednesday 7 January 2026: Wilbur’s Beachcombing
Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-432570
Above we see the modified Flower (Honesty) class frigate Prasae of the Royal Thai Navy aground behind enemy lines on the Korean east coast, some 75 years ago this week, in January 1951. Several U.N. personnel are standing on the beach near a boat, surveying the near-hopeless situation. An LCVP is also stranded just inshore of the frigate. Note ice on the shore and on the seaward side of the ship.
The hard-luck frigate may have been a loss, but all 111 of her survivors were all successfully plucked off the snow-covered beach by one intrepid “silver eagle” aviator and his primitive eggbeater.
Albeit slowly.
Amid a blizzard.
And under near constant enemy fire.
Meet Betony & Sind
Our subject started life as the Royal Navy’s Flower-class corvetteHMS Betony (K274), ordered 8 December 1941– the day of the first Japanese attacks on British Hong Kong and other possessions in the Pacific, kicking off a whole new war.
Laid down 26 September 1942 at Alexander Hall and Sons in Aberdeen as Yard No. 687, the future Betony launched on 22 April 1943 and commissioned on 31 August 1943.
Her inaugural commander was the long-serving Lt. Nicholas Bryan John Stapleton, RD, RNR– who formerly was skipper of the Flower-class sister HMS Amaranthus (K 17), and before that the ASW whaler HMT Southern Pride (K 249).
HMS Betony (K274) underway, likely in British Home waters, circa 1943. IWM FL 2011
WWII Service
Our vessel suffered her first loss, with Act/Petty Officer Hubert M. Jones, P/SSX 20752, of her company listed as “died of wounds” on 28 November 1943 without further elaboration.
She was soon on convoy runs, tagging along with OS.59/ KMS.33 out of Liverpool for two weeks before 1943 was out.
After further workups in Scotland and a deployment to the Eastern Fleet at Trincomalee in early 1944, Stapleton handed command of the new Betony over to T/Lt. Percy Ellis Croisdale Pickles, RNVR, on 20 October 1944. While in the Indian Ocean, she performed escort duties for a dozen slow convoys on the CJ (Calcutta to Colombo) and BM/MB (Bombay to Colombo) runs between February and October 1944.
HMS Betony (K274) broadside view
She was loaned to the Royal Indian Navy in January 1945 and assigned to the hardscrabble Burma Coast Escort Force, operating alongside sistership corvettes HMIS Assam, HMS Meadowsweet, and HMS Tulip; the River-class frigates HMS Taff, Shiel, Lossie, Deveron, Test, and Nadder; and the old Town-class destroyers HMS Sennent (ex-USCGC Champlain) and Lulworth (ex-USCGC Chelan) out of Colombo.
When the war was all but over, Betony was officially commissioned on 24 August 1945 into the RIN as HMIS Sind, keeping her same pennant number (K274). Her only “Indian” skipper was T/A/Lt.Cdr. Leonard George Prowse, RINVR, formerly commander of the armed yacht HMS Rion (FY 024), who assumed command in March 1945.
With the corvette suffering from engine troubles, she was nominated for disposal and paid off on 17 May 1946
Bangkok Bound
Thailand had a winding path during WWII. Having fought in 1940-41 with the Vichy French over Cambodia (some things never change!), the country claimed neutrality until a near-bloodless “invasion” by Japan in December 1941, after which it entered into an outright military alliance that only ended post-VJ Day. Ceding territories its troops had seized in Burma and Malaya back to Britain and in Cambodia back to France under an American-brokered agreement in 1946, the country became the 55th nation to join the UN in December 1946 and swung more or less to the West.
This opened the country to military aid, which included receiving two surplus former RIN corvettes from Britain– ex-HMS Burnet/HMIS Gondwana (K 348) and our ex-HMS Betony/HMIS Sind on 15 May 1947. They were given a short refit and recommissioned into the Thai fleet as the frigates HTMS Bangpakong and HTMS Prasae, respectively.
HMTS Prasae
The British also transferred the humble 1,000-ton Algerine-class minesweeper HMS Minstrel (J 445), which became HTMS Phosamton (MSC-451).
The turnover ceremony was held in the naval dockyard of Singapore.
Although third-hand, the two surplus corvettes/frigates and the minesweeper were much appreciated and joined a Thai fleet that included the quaint but decrepit Thonburi-class coastal defense ship HTMS Sri Ayudhya (2,350-tons, 253 ft oal, 15 knots, 4×8″/50s, 4×3″/50s) whose sister had been sunk by the French in 1940, the 1,400-ton Japanese-built sloop HTMS Maeklong (which doubled as the royal yacht and naval cadet training ship), seven remaining pre-war Italian-built 300-ton Trad-class torpedo boats, the two old Armstrong-built Rattanakosindra-class gunboats (800 tons, 174 feet, 2×6″, 12 knots), four long-laid-up Japanese-built Matchanu-class costal submarines, and a handful of old coasters, dispatch, and survey vessels.
Later in 1947, the U.S. transferred three surplus PC-461-class 173-foot subchasers: HTMS Sarasin (ex USS PC-495), HTMS Thayanchon (ex USS PC-575), and HTMS Khamronsin (USS PC-609); and two LSM-1 class landing craft (ex USS LSM-333 and 338), further modernizing the Thai fleet, which by 1950 numbered 1,100 officers and 10,000 ratings.
Things were looking up.
Korea
In the wake of the Korean War in June 1950, Thailand was the first Asian nation (besides the exiled KMT on Taiwan, which is a whole ‘nother story) to offer ground troops to the UN Force. Before the end of the war, the anti-Chinese Prime Minister (former Field Marshal) Plaek Pibulsonggram wholeheartedly contributed over 11,700 ground troops (soon reequipped with U.S. uniforms and small arms), 40,000 tons of rice, and both of the country’s new frigates to the effort.
A newly formed unit of picked men, the 21st Infantry Regiment, Queen’s Guard (Thahan Suea Rachini), was drawn from across the Army.
Thai troops of the 21st Regiment embarking for Korea, October 1950. Note their French-style helmets, U.S.-marked haversacks, and Japanese-made Showa-period Mausers. Ultimately, more than 10,000 Thai troops would serve in the Korean War alongside U.S. forces, fighting notably at the Battle of Pork Chop Hill. (Photo: UN News Archives)
The two frigates, each with a picked crew of 110 officers and men, were made ready by early October 1950, and they would escort the first battalion of the Thai Army to Korea, with the latter carried on the old Japanese-built transport coaster HTMS Sichang, and the chartered merchant ship Hertamersk.
Prasae’s skipper was Prince (CDR) Uthaichalermlab Wutthichai, 35, who had learned his trade in England and had pinned on his lieutenant bars in 1938 before serving in WWII, and earning the Tritaphon Mongkut Thai among other decorations. Prince Wutthichai, the senior officer afloat, became the commodore of the little Thai squadron headed to Korea.
Some 307 Thai Navy personnel and ~1,200 troops left Thailand’s Khlong Toei port aboard the four ships on 22 October 1950, headed north. They arrived in Pusan on 7 November.
The U.S.-reequipped 21st Infantry, which soon earned the nickname the “Little Tigers,” served alongside the U.S. 1st Cavalry Division and would see hard combat in the Third Battle for Seoul and at Pork Chop Hill.
Once attached to the UN Forces on 10 November, the two Thai frigates were given a short overhaul in Japan, which included updated sonar and radar suites, then tasked for a month under CTF-95 as guard ships for the entrance to the naval roads at Sasebo, Japan, with Prasae on the morning shift and Bangpakong overnight.
Then came a more kinetic assignment.
In early January 1951, Prasae and Bangpakong were under Task Force 77 orders on the gun line off the east coast of Korea near the 38th parallel, providing fire support missions to troops ashore with their single 4-inch BL Mk.IXs, steaming with a destroyer force including USS Wallace L. Lind (DD-703) as part of the East Coast Blockading and Patrol Task Group (TG 95.2).
The first shelling operation on North Korea’s east coast by the Thai Navy began on 3 January, firing along the coast between latitudes 38 and 39 degrees North, between the cities of Changjon and Yangyang. On 5-6 January, shelling of railway stations, transportation routes, and military structures in the Chodo area was carried out.
Then came a blizzard that was so severe that it grounded carrier and most fixed wing sorties between 6 and 11 January and filled central Korea with snow showers, haze, smoke, low clouds, 30 knot winds, and fog, dropping visibility to zero and bottoming out thermometers, Prasae drifted into the shallows on the cape of Kisamun-dan in Hyeonbuk-myeon, Yangyang, Gangwon, North Korea. She was hard aground, at a 60-degree angle to the shoreline, just 200 yards offshore.
She was also in enemy held-territory some 16 klicks north of the 38th Parallel.
Stranded Thai frigate Prasae, January 1951 80-G-432568
The Lewis S. Parks Papers in the Harry S. Truman Library contain dozens of Navy images of the rescue operation, digitized (low rez) in the National Archives. They were taken in most cases by U.S. Navy LT William DuCoing, presumably of the USS Manchester, who “witnessed several enemy soldiers killed while on this beach.”
During a blizzard night, the Thailand Corvette Prasae grounded on North Korea’s eastern coast in enemy territory about 200 yards offshore, NARA 350892732
A group of unidentified Thai sailors makes a close inspection of the ship HMTS Prasae after it grounded on the Korean coast during a United Nations operation. NARA 350898508
During a blizzard night, the Thailand Corvette Prasae grounded on North Korea’s eastern coast in enemy territory about 200 yards offshore. The sailor in the foreground is unidentified. Jan. 6, 1951. NARA 350892736
A view of the coast of Korea, where the Thailand ship HMTS Prasae was grounded during a blizzard. NARA 350898520
Snow covers a beach in Korea during the evacuation of Thai troops from the grounded HMTS Prasae in enemy territory. NARA 350892752
The alert went out, and Task Force 77 sprang into action to save the stranded Thai warship and her crew.
The salvage operation included the old Gleaves-class destroyer/minesweeper USS Endicott (DMS-35), which tried to send in LCVPs to recover marooned Thai sailors, joined by Prasae’s sister Bangpakong, whose small boats attempted to approach the beach without success due to fierce surf and rollers.
Endicott’s sisters USS Thompson (DMS-38), Carmick (DMS-33), and Doyle (DMS-34) moved in to assist and clear lanes for mines. De-beaching lines were attempted by Comstock (LSD-19) and Bolster (ARS-38), which also proved unsuccessful.
A U.S. Navy salvage crew aboard the Thailand Corvette HMTS Prasae, which ran aground in enemy territory on the coast of Korea. Left to right, HMC E.P. Wacham, USN; Lieutenant Junior Grade M.D. Taylor, USN; and RM2 C.K. Hayard, USN. Note, only three names were listed. 80-G-426187
Endicott rescued three Thai sailors after they were washed overboard from one of the pulling boats, but unfortunately, a fourth one drowned. Endicott’s doctor and chief corpsman also went ashore to care for casualties until they could be evacuated.
With carrier aircraft grounded due to the poor flying conditions, fire support to keep interloping Chicom and Nork troops at bay was provided by the Cleveland-class light cruiser USS Manchester (CL-83) and her companion destroyers USS English (DD-696), Borie (DD-704), Hank (DD-702), and Forrest Royal (DD-872).
Truman got a White House briefing on Prasaeat least ten times during this period as part of his daily situation reports on the war.
The USS Manchester guards the grounded HMTS Prasae with destroyers and other ships while rescue efforts take place in enemy territory on shore. NARA 350892746
Two unidentified U.S. sailors unwrap blankets brought to stranded sailors from Thailand. In the background, their ship, the HMTS Prasae, can be seen where she grounded on the Korean coast during a blizzard. The Prasae was part of a United Nations operation when she ran aground. Gunfire from the USS Manchester protected the stranded sailors and rescuers from enemy troops. NARA 350898492
Early attempts at using helicopters in the rescue proved fatal.
On 8 January, a Sikorsky H03S1 of Helicopter Utility Squadron TWO (HU-2) embarked on the carrier USS Valley Forge, maneuvered near Prasae when a rogue wave caused the ship to roll. The helicopter’s rotors hit the mast, causing the mast to collapse and the helicopter to crash in flames, which then ignited 20mm shells, causing more damage to the ship. The crew put the fire out in under 30 minutes. Somewhat miraculously, the helicopter pilot, Lieutenant (junior grade) John W. Thornton, his aircrewman, and a salvage officer all survived the crash, but another Thai sailor drowned.
Manchester was lucky enough to have a replacement Sikorsky HO3S-1 (H-5/S-51) helicopter (“UP27” BuNo 122715) detached from Helicopter Utility Squadron 1 (HU-1) aboard USS Philippine Sea.
Nicknamed Clementine, she was piloted by the one and only Chief Aviation Structural Mechanic, ADC (Aviation Pilot), Duane Wilbur Thorin (NSN: 3165995). An enlisted pilot who joined the Navy in 1939 at age 19 and earned his silver NAP wings after finishing flight training in 1943. The blonde-haired Thorin– eighth son of Swedish emigrants to Nebraska– moved into rotary-wing billets after the war. He had already earned something of a swashbuckling reputation, shuttling out on one-man missions to rescue downed fliers in his contraption, typically while clad in his trademark non-regulation green headgear.
Clementine wasn’t much, with her 450hp R-985 Wasp Junior only enabling her to lift about 900 pounds of useful cargo (pilot included) off the ground on a full tank of gas in good weather, but she was on hand and had enough range to shuttle back and forth from Prasae to Manchester.
A Sikorsky HO3S-1 (H-5) helicopter lands on the deck of the USS Manchester, with the cruiser’s 6- and 5-inch guns bristling in an undated photograph in good weather. The helicopter is BuNo 124345 (MSN 51204), which survived the war. NARA 350898476
USS Manchester (CL-83) Sikorski HO3S helicopter, UP20 of squadron HU-1, lands on the cruiser’s after deck after a gunfire spotting mission off the Korean coast, March 1953. Note: Manchester’s wooden decking with aircraft tie-down strips and hangar cover tracks; 6″/47 triple gun turrets; 5″/38 and 3″/50 twin gun mounts. NH 92578
With the likelihood that the grounded ship could be pulled off while under fire dropping to zero, and hypothermia setting in with the survivors who were running out of supplies and battling below-zero temperatures overnight, the order went to Clementine to pull them off, typically just two or three men at a time.
On inbound flights to Prasae, Thorin and Clementine dropped off a small medical team under Doc Myers, and a security team under LT Taylor to help guard and mark the LZ for future flights. At one point, they exchanged long-distance shots with a four-man enemy patrol just over the dunes.
They also brought blankets and some hot chow.
An aerial view of the frigate from Thailand, the HMTS Prasae, that ran aground off the western coast of North Korea during a snowstorm. The image was taken from the rescue helicopter sent from the USS Manchester. Original caption: HMTS Prasae as seen from Manchester copter. UN ships are firing air bursts. NARA 350898532
A crewman from the grounded Thailand ship HMTS Prasae stands guard as the helicopter from the USS Manchester shuttles the stranded sailors to safety. NARA 350898468
A helicopter from the USS Philippine Sea, piloted by Chief Aviation Pilot D. W. Thorin, lands on the snowy beach to effect the rescue of the crew of the Thailand ship HMTS Prasae. The Prasae, which was part of a United Nations operation, grounded during a snowstorm. The rescue team was surrounded by enemy troops during the operation, but was protected by gunfire from the USS Manchester. Jan.6, 1951. NARA 350898472
Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the USS Manchester use their ship’s helicopter to rescue crew from the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground off the coast of Korea during a blizzard. Lieutenant Taylor is in the foreground, guarding the helicopter with a (likely borrowed) M50 Madsen SMG. 350892804
Dr. Meyers of the USS Manchester attends to the wounded on the shore after the Thailand Corvette HMTS Prasae ran aground off the North Korean coast during a blizzard. All others are unidentified. NARA 350892744
Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892780
Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892784
Under enemy fire, troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892762
APC (NAP) Thorin prepares to take off in his helicopter with another load of survivors from the Thailand corvette, the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground during a blinding snowstorm off the coast of Korea. Other members of the helicopter stand guard as the rescue was conducted behind enemy lines. Men guarding the rescue operation are armed with M-3 submachine guns. NH 97164
During personnel evacuations on a beach in Korea, two enemy shell bursts are visible. The USS Manchester aided in the evacuation of stranded Thai sailors from the HMTS Prasae that ran aground during a blizzard. NARA 350892750
The USS Manchester’s helicopter, nicknamed the Clementine, lands on the snow-covered beach at Kisamun Dan, Korea. A rescue mission was launched after the HMTS Prasae, a Thai Corvette, ran aground on Korea’s Eastern Coast during a blizzard. The HMTS Prasae is in the foreground. NARA 350892788
Thai sailors are stranded on the western coast of Korea after their ship, the HMTS Prasae, ran aground during a snowstorm. At a snow-covered beach, the United States Navy helicopter UP 27 arrives to rescue the sailors. NARA 350898526
An unidentified Thai sailor from the HMTS Prasae boards the rescue helicopter. The helicopter, which had been borrowed from the USS Philippine Sea after the USS Manchester’s helicopter crashed, was piloted by Chief (Aviation Pilot) D. W. Thorin, who can be seen inside the helicopter facing the camera. NARA 350898512
Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the USS Manchester use their ship’s helicopter to rescue crew from the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground off the coast of Korea during a blizzard. NARA 350892798
Meanwhile, CDR Wutthichai, the stricken ship’s skipper, directed his navigators and gunners to destroy anything that could be useful to the enemy, doused the ship with oil and placed gunpowder in various locations, and then left the ship last.
Wutthichai was likewise the final man that Clementine pulled from the beach.
The USS Manchester’s helicopter, nicknamed the Clementine, lands on the snow-covered beach at Kisamun Dan, Korea. A rescue mission was launched after the HTMS Prasae, a Thai Corvette, ran aground on Korea’s Eastern Coast during a blizzard. Original caption: With the temperature at 12 degrees below zero, the last of Commander Wutthichai’s crew are evacuated. NARA 350892786
Over the three days between 11 and 13 January, Chief Thorin and Clementine pulled 126 men from Prasae in 40 sorties, 111 Thai and 15 USN, bringing them all safely to Manchester’s little wooden helo deck.
Seventeen of the 111 evacuees from the Thailand corvette, HMTS Prasae, wear U.S. Navy-issued dungarees while aboard the USS Manchester. NARA 350892830
Of Prasae’s crew, two were killed in the grounding and drawn-out rescue under fire: Petty Officer 2nd Class Chan Muang-am and Petty Officer 2nd Class Phuan Phonsayam, both later posthumously promoted to CPO. Twenty-seven of her crew were injured, with a mixture of frostbite and shrapnel as the cause of wounds.
The unmanned and wrecked hulk of Prasae was destroyed by naval gunfire from USS English on 13 January, via 50 rounds of 5-inch common.
Those not hospitalized in Japan were soon shipped aboard Bangpakong.
Survivors of the stricken Thailand corvette HTMS Prasae board the Thailand corvette HMTS Bang Pakong, off the coast of Korea. Photograph released January 17, 1951. 80-G-426769
As for her sister Bangpakong (ex-Burnet, ex-Gondwana), she remained in Korean service until February 1952 and in Thai service until stricken in 1984.
Epilogue
With the Thai government still eager to contribute to the effort in Korea, the U.S. Navy quickly sold them two laid-up Tacoma-class patrol frigates, late of the Soviet Red Banner Pacific Fleet via Lend-Lease, the USS Glendale (PF-36) and USS Gallup (PF-47), for the princely sum of $861,940.
Transferred in October 1951 at Yokosuka, Glendale became the Thai Navy ship Tachin. Gallup became the Thai Navy ship Prasae. Along with them came five more PC-461s, two LCIs, and three surplus SC-1627-class 119-foot subchasers, these smaller vessels slated for immediate service in Thai coastal waters while the frigates remained deployed.
USS Glendale (PF-36) and USS Gallup (PF-47) fly the flags of Thailand during transfer ceremonies at Yokosuka Naval Base, Japan, 29 October 1951. Both ships are still wearing their U.S. Navy numbers. NH 97102
Following a workup in Japanese waters, the new Prasae and Tachin departed Sasebo on 12 January 1952 in company with sistership USS Bisbee (PF 46) on their first escort mission since their purchase by and addition to the Thailand Navy.
The new pair of frigates served for the duration of the Korean War and well into the tense shift into peace, rotating crews with fresh ones shipped in from Thailand at least twice. Both departed South Korea for their first trip home on 22 January 1956, nearly three years after the shooting had stopped! Some 2,485 Thai naval personnel served in Korean waters, with 1,679 of them receiving UN service medals. Two Thai naval personnel were also awarded U.S. Bronze stars.
In the course of Thailand’s involvement in the Korean War, the country suffered 1,273 casualties, comprising 129 killed in action (including two Navy), 1,139 wounded, and 5 missing. The country maintained a company-sized infantry force in the ROK to watch the DMZ until July 1972. They continue to contribute two officers and 13 enlisted to the more or less permanent UNC Military Armistice Commission-Secretariat (UNCMAC-S) in South Korea today.
Speaking of South Korea today, with the border shifting slightly to the line of contact in place when the armistice was signed, the cape that Praese was grounded on has been part of the ROK since 1953, and these days is often referred to as “38th Parallel Beach,” a popular surfing spot (in the summer).
Prince Wutthichai, Praese’s final skipper, returned home with his crew in March 1951, married Princess Vimolchat, and had two children. Decorated with the Order of the White Elephant in 1953, he passed just five years later, aged 43. There seems to be a story there.
Chief Thorin fully earned a Distinguished Flying Cross for his rescue efforts on the grounded Prasae, then added a Gold Star to his DFC in November 1951 while flying from the cramped deck of the cruiser USS Toledo (CA-133) to successfully pluck a downed pilot trapped some 60 miles behind the enemy’s lines. He added a second Gold Star to his DFC in January 1952 while operating from USS Rochester (CV-124) for picking up two downed pilots just offshore of Hungnam– while under small arms fire from the edge of the beach– in two separate trips.
Just six months after the rescue of Prasae’s crew, Clementine, the helicopter used so successfully, UP 27 (BuNo. 122715), went missing on a rescue mission near Kosong, Korea, with her pilot killed and crewman taken prisoner. Luckily, Chief Thorin was not at the controls that day.
Thorin’s luck ran out in February 1952 when flying a whirlybird from Rochester on a mission to rescue an injured and critically ill Skyraider pilot off Valley Forge— LT(j.g) Harry Ettenger of VC-35– who was down behind enemy lines and being harbored by anti-Communist North Korean partisans. The mission, over known enemy anti-aircraft positions near Kojo, Korea, was almost successful, but at the last minute, Thorin’s helicopter crashed due to mechanical problems. Taken prisoner along with Ettenger, he was a resident of POW Camp 2 until his release during Operation Big Switch on 2 September 1953. He earned a Silver Star for the mission (recommended for the Navy Cross), adding to his three DFCs.
Thorin made over 130 rescues in hostile territory during the Korean War, not counting those from Prasae.
Thorin retired from the Navy in 1959 as a lieutenant and passed “feet dry” in 2002, aged 82. He is buried at Chambers Cemetery, Holt County, Nebraska, Block 1, Lot 35.
Thorin was used as the basis for CPO (NAP) Mike Forney, the enlisted CSAR pilot in The Bridges at Toko-Ri by Pulitzer Prize winner James Michener. Icon Mickey Rooney portrayed him in the movie adaptation, which was filmed in Technicolor in 1954 aboard the USS Oriskany (CV-34). Real UP-coded H-5s were used, and Rooney portrayed his based-on-a-real-story character well, albeit with a green tophat and scarf rather than Thorin’s more understated green ballcap.
That’s Hollywood for you.
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
***
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Driving the first rivet, during keel laying ceremonies of the future Iowa-class battleship USS Missouri (BB-63) at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, 6 January 1941.
The soon-to-be-retired Atlanta-born RADM Clark Howell “Woody” Woodward (Annapolis 1899), then-Commandant of the Navy Yard (second from right), did the honors on this occasion. That fits as he was a salty battleship officer with a Navy Cross and DSM behind him, earned across two declared and several undeclared wars.
He was 63, but not quite done, retirement be damned.
U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. NH 96796
Future VADM Woody Woodward, while still a mid at Annapolis, saw active combat along with several of his classmates during the War with Spain in 1898 on the armored cruiser USS Brooklyn in the Battle of Santiago. He then went on fto ight against Philippine insurrectionists and Chinese Boxers while on Asiatic station, before, rifle in hand, commanded landing forces in Nicaragua in 1912 (and 1932), Mexico in 1914, and Haiti in 1915.
While XO of the battlewagon USS New York during the Great War and present for the internment of the Kaiser’s High Seas Fleet at Scapa Flow, he earned a Navy Cross and, called back to the colors in 1942, would add a Legion of Merit and his second Distinguished Service Medal to his salad bar during WWII as the Chief of the Industrial Incentive Service and a trouble shooter for the CNO and SECNAV.
A nephew of Clark Howell, the famed editor of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Woody cut his teeth in the newsroom there as a lad in 1895 before shipping off for Annapolis and, after he retired the first time from the Navy in 1941, penned numerous articles on naval matters for the International News Service wire, something he returned to once he finally took his stars off.
Retiring a second time in 1948 after a solid 50 years in uniform, Woodward came back to work for the Navy on retired status during the Korean War.
He passed in 1967, aged 90, and is buried at Arlington, leaving a daughter, two grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren to mourn him. His papers are maintained in the NHHC collection.
As for Missouri, she is probably his greatest and most appropriate legacy, with the “Mighty Mo” having the DNA of Santago and Scapa Flow in her family tree due to him.
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Warship Wednesday 31 December 2025: What a bit of Whale Oil Taxes Gets You
(Photographer: James Edward Farrington, radio operator; British Antarctic Survey Archives ref: AD6/19/1A/201/3)
Above we see the unique British polar research ship-turned minesweeper HMS William Scoresby (J 122) approaching Deception Island, in the South Shetland Islands, circa 1944, during Operation Tabarin, the little-known WWII Royal Navy expedition to Antarctica.
A humble 370-tonner that ran 134 feet from bow to stern, Scoresby launched 31 December 1925, a century ago today, and became an icy legend.
Meet Scoresby
Our subject was named for William Scoresby, Jr, a whaling captain and almost accidental Arctic scientist and later ordained Church of England clergyman, who was born in Cropton, near Pickering, Yorkshire, on 5 October 1789.
A veteran of numerous whaling voyages to far off, oft-frozen waters (his first at age 10 with his sea captain father, a man later credited with inventing the crows nest), he penned his An Account of the Arctic Regions in 1820, one of the first clear-eyed examinations of such areas, followed up by Journal of a Voyage to the Northern Whale Fishery three years later. These volumes have been called “the beginning of the scientific study of the polar regions.”
Besides his work as a whaler and explorer, Scoresby was also the first chaplain of the Mariners’ Floating Church and passed away in 1857.
In practical terms, the good Rev. Scoresby charted 400 miles of East Greenland’s coast– with most of his place names still in use– and his meticulous ship logs, including weather and current data, provide valuable information for climatologists even today.
Ordered as one of His Majesty’s Royal Research Ships– in the same vein as the legendary RRS Discovery, Scott’s old ship– for the Government of the Falkland Islands from Hull-based trawler maker Cook, Welton & Gemmell in East Riding of Yorkshire (Yard No. 477), the future RRS William Scoresby was launched on New Years Eve 1925, christened by the Lady Harmer.
Built on spec for a thrifty £34,303 to the modified plans of a whale catcher, her intended primary service was to study and mark whales and to conduct research trawls for the South Atlantic fisheries. At the time, it was seen that data on the biological and physical conditions affecting the distribution of the whale stock were of preeminent importance.
Ice-strengthened, she was 134 feet in length, 26 in beam, and could make 12 knots. Her triple-expansion steam engines were built by Amos and Smith of Hull. She had a powerful commercial winch and port side gallows, which would allow her to tow a full-sized otter trawl.
Scoresby AWM P08145001
Her only armament at the time were a couple of revolvers for problems that needed revolvers and a few 12-bore (12 gauge) single-shot marker guns, developed by Holland & Holland to fire special 10-inch marker darts on an Eley-Kynoch charge that could be recovered during the harvest and returned (for a £1 reward), allowing the data of the whale’s travel from when and where it was darted to when and where it was harvested to be cataloged.
The darts were engraved with “Reward for return to the Colonial Office, London” and later “Return to Discovery British Museum [Nat History] London.
Between 1934 and 1938, 5,219 whales of six species were marked in the Southern Hemisphere using such guns from Scoresby and Discovery II, yielding significant data on migration patterns for species such as Blue, Fin, and Humpback whales.
Scoresby also possessed a sampling and sounding winch for oceanographic surveys, along with a small onboard laboratory for conducting scientific work on plankton and hydrology. While deployed, in addition to whales and their krill, the humble vessel’s embarked scientific detachment also branched out to study seals, bird life, lichens, mosses, and algae.
The same fund that paid for Scoresby, raised from taxes levied on whaling exports from the Falkland Island Dependencies and on the whaling companies, in the same year established a new £10,000 marine station at the whaling station at Grytviken on South Georgia Island, later of Falklands 1982 fame.
Once launched and floated down the River Hull for fitting out in Hull’s Queen’s Dock, the RRS William Scoresby was completed on 14 June 1926.
Her first Master was George M Mercer (Lieutenant Commander, RNR), and she arrived at Cape Town two months later to join RRS Discovery. Over the next 13 years, her skippers were all officers either on the Royal Navy’s retired or reserve list.
Scoresby completed seven voyages to Antarctic waters between 1926 and 1937, operating initially with the old RRS Discovery and after 1929 the new RRS Discovery II, based mainly out of Port Stanley in the Falklands and Grytviken on South Georgia– in the very shadow of Shackleton’s grave.
The William Scoresby moored at a snow-covered wharf, believed to be at South Georgia Island, circa 1930. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/73]
A ship just visible behind a large iceberg, identified as ‘William Scoresby sheltering beneath iceberg’. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/15B]
Coupled with the 13 “Discovery Investigation” voyages made by Discovery I and II in roughly the same period, these missions advanced the understanding of everything in the Antarctic along biological and oceanographic lines.
The 172-foot three-masted barque RRS Discovery I. Scott’s ship, she was taken into service by the British government in 1923 for £5000, becoming the first Royal Research Ship after a controversial £114,000 refit. Replaced in 1929 by a purpose-built steamer with the same name, she later served as the base for the British, Australian, and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition (BANZARE) under Douglas Mawson.
The 1081-GRT, 272-foot steel-hulled RRS Discovery II during one of her scientific voyages in Antarctica between 1929 and 1951.
Between voyages, which were usually six-seven months long, Scoresby typically retired to Portsmouth Dockyard for repairs to damages incurred while among the ice floes and bergs. Dredged seabed rocks and preserved biological specimens were brought back for further study.
If too banged up for the 8,000nm return trip to England, she would call at Montevideo– the closest friendly port to the Falklands, some 1,200 miles west– in a pinch, or at the Royal Dockyard at Simonstown, South Africa (2,000 miles East) instead.
The ‘William Scoresby nearing Simonstown, South Africa, for dry dock and repair’, with dark smoke issuing from the funnel. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/15F]
William Scoresby in dry dock for repairs, likely Simonstown, circa 1930. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/12C]
During this period, her crew tagged and tracked something on the order of 3,000 whales alone and “undertook studies on plankton, fish, and hydrological surveys.” These results were published from Cambridge in the Discovery Reports.
The exception to the rule and the longest of these pre-war voyages was the two and a half year 1928-1930 Second Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition, so called as it was led by Australian explorer (and soon to be knighted) Hubert Wilkins, MC and Bar, and funded by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Among the cargo and specialized gear crammed aboard Scoresby was a Baby Austin car equipped with snow chains.
This voyage included loading up one of the expedition’s two Lockheed Vega floatplanes on her stern via the ship’s jib crane boom at Deception Island and heading South, aiming for the first trans-Antarctic flight.
Loading a Lockheed Vega floatplane to ship. Aeroplane is marked “Wilkins Hearst”. The ship is the “William Scoresby”. Probably taken by the attached biologist George Rayner. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393662 Accessed 30 December 2025
Ploughing through breaking ice. The Research Ship William Scoresby of Sir Hubert Wilkins’ Expedition photographed from the air off the byplane [sic] which she carried on board, together with a tractor, and three life boats.’ State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/72]
Royal Research Ship (RRS) William Scoresby in pack ice, Beascochea Bay, Argentine Islands, off the West coast of Graham Land, Antarctica. The photograph appears to have been taken during the Second Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition of 1929-1930, when an attempt was made to fly over the South Pole by plane. The Lockheed seaplane used by H. Wilkins can be seen secured on the afterdeck of the ship. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393816 Accessed 30 December 2025
Scoresby sailed just below the 67th parallel in an attempt to find somewhere suitable to take off for an attempted flight across Antarctica, but in the end was unable to find a suitable place on the ice to take off with sufficient fuel to complete such a long flight.
Nonetheless, the floatplane did make several shorter flights completed over a period of weeks, in December 1929 and January 1930.
Scoresby moored close to a deep snow-covered shoreline with a steep rocky mountain ridge partially visible in the background to the right. On the afterdeck of the ship is a light aeroplane slung from a jib crane boom attached to the aft-mast. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393656 Accessed 30 December 2025
The Lockheed Vega fitted with pontoons due to ice-free conditions and moored alongside the William Scoresby. State Library South Australia PRG 675/1/2A
Lockheed Vega on water alongside the William Scoresby. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/16D]
Lockheed Vega taking off along William Scoresby. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/3A]
RRS Discovery II continued such work with floatplanes in the Antarctic, supporting the Ellsworth “Polar Star” which was a specially modified Northrop Gamma 2B monoplane, and embarking two RAAF Gipsy Moths and seven air/ground crew for her 1935-36 expedition.
At least 41 members of Scoresby’s circa 1926-39 crews were authorized bronze or silver Polar Medals “for good services” in 1941, a rare award that to this day has only been handed out less than 1,000 times, as it requires at least 12 months of arduous service in such a region to qualify to receive. By comparison, the U.S. Antarctica Service Medal, the primary medal for American Antarctic service, can be earned these days with just 10 days spent on orders south of 60°S latitude.
War!
When the war kicked off, RRS Discovery II was turned over to the Admiralty and served with the Royal Fleet Auxiliary, mainly in the North Atlantic as a buoy tender and rescue ship out of Scotland, before resuming her Antarctic survey work only after the war ended.
Meanwhile, our subject, at the time laid up at St Katherine’s Dock, London, was taken over by the Admiralty in October 1939 and by January 1940 became HM Minesweeping Trawler Scoresby (J122) armed with a single “rather antique looking” manually trained 12 pounder (3-inch) gun on her bow (likely one of the 3,494 Mk I and II guns 12cwt QF 3″/40s on hand in RN stocks hand left over from the Great War) and some basic mechanical sweep gear (paravanes, etc.). This was augmented by a Lewis gun and a few small arms.
Her first wartime skipper was CDR (Retired) Harry Petit-Dann, RD, RNR, originally minted a lieutenant in 1924 and moved to the retired list in 1926.
On 1 May 1940, Scoresby sailed as an escort for ships in Convoy OG.28F, which was formed at sea and arrived at Gibraltar a week later. It had to be hairy as the convoy had 44 merchant ships and just three escorts, our little research vessel, the old destroyer HMS Versatile (D32), and the sloop HMS Folkestone (L22).
From Gibraltar, Scoresby continued alone down the West African coast on patrol.
By mid-May, she was part of the 93rd Minesweeper Group at Freetown, Sierra Leone, joining five other minesweeping trawlers there briefly before shifting across the South Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro in June.
Finally, on 23 January 1941, Scoresby pulled into her old haunt at Port Stanley in the Falklands, assuming station at the local shore establishment “stone frigate” there dubbed HMS Pursuivant. The only other armed floating military assets in the Falklands at the time were the minesweeping whaler HMT Roydur and the minesweeping drifter HMT Afterglow.
There, Scoresby remained on quiet duty, patrolling from Port Stanley in West Falkland to old Port Louis, East Falklands, part of the local effort to defend against passing German raiders and U-boats, as well as interloping Argentine naval ships who were planting flags around the British Antarctic Territories. This duty grew more tense after December 1941, when Churchill feared a move by the Japanese to seize the Falklands.
While the cruisers HMS Ajax, Achilles, Exeter, and Cumberland had sheltered at various times in the Falklands during their Graf Spee chase in late 1939, later joined by HMS Dorsetshire and Shropshire the islands were left fairly on their own after even the old heavy cruiser HMS Hawkins was shifted from the South Atlantic to the Indian Ocean in late 1940 as the traffic in German commerce raiders and blockade runners had thinned– or at least they thought.
A red alert went through the Falklands after the German Hilfskreuzer Pinguin (HSK 5) raided into Antarctic waters in January 1941, where it captured the whole of the Norwegian whaling fleet: three factory ships and 11 chasers, capturing a whopping 20,000 tons of precious whale oil in the process. The Admiralty dispatched the armed merchant cruiser HMS Queen of Bermuda to patrol the waters for a few months in response, but even she resumed her regular duties.
A 1,700-man reinforced battalion (11th West Yorks) arrived in the Falklands in 1942 and would remain ashore into early 1944 when they were replaced by a smaller force of Royal Scots. Other than Scoresby and her two fellow armed trawlers, that was it for local defense in the islands, barring passing Allied warships taking the “long way around” Cape Horn.
A small force of several RN armed merchant cruisers protected Simonstown to Freetown convoys up the Southwest coast of Africa, but they generally came nowhere near the Falklands except for a short patrol by HMS Carnarvon Castle in January 1943 to respond to Argentine flag-raising antics on far-away Deception Island.
Meanwhile, CDR Petit-Dann was relieved as Scoresby’s skipper in mid-1942 by one T./Lt Thomas Gentle, RNR– who soon left to command the new Algerine-class minesweeper HMS Welcome (J 386)— and T./Lt. Harold Olaf Olsen, RNR, a Norwegian-born officer who by early 1944 left to command the ASW whaler HMS Thirlmere (FY 206)/ex-Kos XXVI.
This left Scoresby in early 1944 in command of Lt Victor Aloysius John Baptist Marchesi, RN, recently arrived in the islands from England with the mysterious 14 members of Naval Parties 475 and 476, aboard the troop ship HMT Highland Monarch, hitching a ride with the Royal Scots coming to relieve the miserable 11th West Yorks.
The London-born Marchesi was only 30 at the time but was more than qualified, having served some months as an RNR officer in the battlecruiser HMS Hood before joining the Brocklebank Line before the war. As fourth officer in the RRS Discovery II in January 1936, he helped rescue the American airman Lincoln Ellsworth and his Canadian co-pilot, Herbert Hollick-Kenyon, from the Ross ice shelf.
Transferring to the Royal Navy at the outbreak of the war, in addition to commanding Scoresby, Marchesi was also the 2IC of NP 475/476, which had been handpicked by T/LCDR. James William Slessor Marr, RNVR, a 42-year-old Scottish marine biologist and polar explorer who had sailed with Shackleton on the Quest as a lad, took part in the BANZARE expedition, and been a member of both Discovery II and Scoresby’s pre-war crews at one time or another. At the time, Marr already had a mountain named after him in Antarctica, as well as a bay named in his honor in the South Orkney Islands, and had earned both a Polar Medal (with clasp) and a W. S. Bruce Medal.
There was reason Scoresby had such a man in charge.
Tabarin
The expedition was named Operation Tabarin after Bal Tabarin, a famed and chaotic Paris cabaret and nightclub second only to the Moulin Rouge, as a sort of tongue-in-cheek stab at the chaotic nature of the endeavor. Ironically, at the time, the real Bal Tabarin on Rue Victor-Massé just off the Seine was favored by both the German officer corps in Paris and the movers and shakers of the Resistance.
Their mission: establish year-round British bases in the far south, at Deception Island at a minimum, to deny its use in sheltering German, Japanese, or Argentine vessels and strengthen Britannia’s assertions of sovereignty over its claimed Falkland Islands Dependencies
Scoresby took the place of NP 475/476s former mothership, the condemned Norwegian sealing vessel Veslekari. Taken up in Iceland in 1943 and renamed HMS Bransfield, the old sealer proved unsuited for the task and was abandoned, the party left to ship to the Falklands via HMT Highland Monarch while their equipment was transshipped as cargo to Montevideo on other vessels.
Scoresby was assigned as escort to the slightly larger but very familiar coaster Fitzroy (ex-Lafonia), a 165-foot/853-ton steamer which had built by Henry Robb in 1931 for the Falkland Islands Company to serve as the inter-islands mail ship. The islands’ only dedicated lifeline to the world, the needs of the Crown took priority, and she was used first to retrieve the expedition’s equipment from Montevideo before the two vessels set out, bound for Deception Island.
Fitzroy
On 29 January 1944, they left Port Stanley, headed south.
The first installation, established on 3 February 1944, was Base B, at Whaler’s Bay, on Deception Island, where Carnarvon Castlehad called the year prior. Importantly, they had a radio to report any enemy vessels or interactions and were in regular communication with Port Stanley.
Marchesi later said in a postwar interview that, until inside the harbor, he could not see whether it was occupied by an Argentine warship or a German U-boat. “Just as well,” he said, “because my one handgun and William Scoresby’s puny bow-mounted gun would hardly have put the fear of death into anyone.”
The second, larger, post would be Base A, at Port Lockroy, on nearby Goudier Island in the Gerlache Strait, established on 11 February. The base was to have been at Hope Bay on the Antarctic mainland, but Fitzroy was not ice-strengthened and could not risk the sea ice in the bay.
It was sparse to say the least.
As described by the British Antarctic Survey:
The base at Port Lockroy was built on Goudier Island in February 1944. It housed a nine-man wintering team. The hut was erected from prefabricated sections, and some timber used in the construction was salvaged from an abandoned whaling station on Deception Island. The building contained a mess room where the men ate, relaxed, and slept, a work room, a kitchen, a store room, and a generator room. There was even a bathroom. However, because water was rationed, only the person whose turn it was to gather and melt the ice or snow was allowed to bathe. This meant up to nine days between baths!
Unloading cargo for the construction of Base A on Goudier Island, Antarctic Peninsula (1944) British Antarctic Survey Archives.
The secrecy bubble popped, and in April 1944, the existence of both bases was shared globally via a BBC announcement, news that reached the polar outposts– men alone on a continent of some 5 million square miles– and left them amused.
All 14 members of the expedition wintered over the 1944 season, and a third base was set up on the mainland at Hope Bay (Base D) on 13 February 1945, where the Union Jack was unfurled on a 20-foot pole that had been found near the remains of the hut from Otto Nordenskjold’s circa 1901 Swedish Antarctic Expedition.
Dog teams were brought in by Tabarin in 1945 to increase surveying capabilities at Hope Bay, Trinity Peninsula.
On the way back to Port Stanley in 1945, Scoresby stopped at Scotia Bay on Laurie Island to “show the flag” to a group of frostbitten Argentinean meteorologists who had been stuck at their Orcadas Station for 14 months. A little tit-for-tat in the ice.
Scoresby, Fitzroy, and two chartered vessels, SS Eagle and MV Trepassey, would return to the region from the Falklands in early 1946 to resupply the posts and swap out personnel.
Tabarin was extensively documented, with some 1,800 images preserved from the operation today.
HMS Scoresby (J122) saw her military service under the Admiralty cease in September 1946.
Landing her gun, she was sent for a major £11,900 refit and, in November 1949, was released to the Admiralty outright to continue her service under the RFA. She spent the first 10 months of 1950 conducting research into whales off the west coast of Australia– sailing to Fremantle and back to England via the South Atlantic.
On 26 February 1951, the Admiralty transferred Scoresby to the newly formed National Institute of Oceanography, and she would continue serving with that organization in the Southern Ocean for the next two years.
Paid off, ex-Scoresby was on the January 1953 Disposal List, offered for sale for £2,500. She lingered on the list for 17 months until a bid of £1,900 from BISCO (British Iron and Steel Corporation) for demolition was accepted, with her salvaged radio equipment fetching a further £600.
And that was that.
Epilogue
Human habitation of Antarctica has been continuous since the establishment of the first two Tabarin bases by Scoresby and Fitzroy in February 1944.
The scientific observations and surveys initiated during Tabarin continued after the War, and the work was put on a long-term footing under the Colonial Office as the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS). FIDS was re-named the British Antarctic Survey in 1962 and continues today.
Port Lockroy was occupied until 1962, Hope Bay until 1964, and Deception Island until 1967, replaced by newer, less militaristic installations inside the British Antarctic Territory, which formed in 1962 after the Antarctic Treaty came into force. They have been replaced by the year-round Rothera Research Station on Adelaide Island and four smaller stations (Signy, Fossil Bluff, Sky Blu, and Halley VI) that don’t overwinter.
The BAS’s current dedicated research and logistic support ship these days is the hulking 15,000-ton RRS Sir David Attenborough (aka “Boaty McBoatface”), which entered service in 2021, backed up by the armed RN icebreaker HMS Protector.
The archives of the Discovery Investigations are held by the National Oceanographic Library.
The British Antarctic Oral History Project includes interviews with members of the ship’s company, which provides insight into the daily life onboard ship.
A bay on the coast of Antarctica’s Kemp Land, discovered by Scoresby’s crew in 1936, was named after her.
As for Scoresby’s former pals, Fitzroy continued to sail between the Falklands to Montevideo, South Georgia, and Graham Land (Antarctica) until 1957, when she was scrapped. RRS Discovery II’s final Antarctic voyage wrapped in 1951, but she continued to work as an oceanographic ship in the North Atlantic until she was scrapped in 1962. She was replaced by a third RRS Discovery in 1962, which, at 4,378 DWT, was the largest general-purpose oceanographic research vessel in use by the Brits until 2006. The current fourth RRS Discovery joined the fleet in 2013.
When it comes to Scoresby’s Operation Tabarin skipper, LT Marchesi remained in the Royal Navy post-war, served two years aboard the carrier HMS Unicorn during Korea, lectured at public schools about naval careers, and was the senior RNR officer in Northern Ireland. In retirement, he worked for Bass, was a port relief officer for Cunard, and land-locked captain of the famed clipper Cutty Sark at Greenwich.
In 2005, Marchesi recounted the story of Operation Tabarin for the BBC, and his exploits were commemorated in a series of stamps issued by the Falkland Islands in the same year (and reissued for the 80th anniversary recently).
Victor Marchesi, captain of the expedition support ship, HMS William Scoresby, and 2nd-in-command of Operation Tabarin, Jan 1946. (Photographer: M. Sadler. Archives ref: AD6/19/2/E402/43a)
He passed in December 2006, aged a ripe 92.
His obituary notes:
At sea, Marchesi recalled keeping watch for hours on the exposed bridge of Scoresby during icy gales and, when off watch, feeling pain in his hands and feet as his circulation returned. In the winter months, Marchesi serviced the remote islands of the Falklands and, for three months each year, refitted his ship in the bright lights of unrationed Montevideo. There he met a talented, multi-lingual secretary in the embassy who contrived a passage to Port Stanley; she was waiting for him when he returned from his third southern voyage, and they were married within the hour.
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
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Post-war view of Yokosuka, while anchored in Tokyo Bay.
The surrendered 33,000-ton 16-inch gunned Japanese super-dreadnought Nagatocan be seen in the right background in this image, 30 December 1945, with the more advanced Iowa-class fast battleship USS New Jersey (BB-62) in the foreground, which carried an extra 16-inch gun when compared to Nagato and hit the scales at a massive 57,540 tons at the time due to her immense AAA battery and huge crew.
USN photograph courtesy of David Buell, via Navsource.
New Jersey, launched 7 December 1942 by the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, was commissioned 23 May 1943, making her just over two years in the fleet at the time, and had earned nine battle stars for her World War II service in the Pacific. She would go on to serve in Korea (four more battle stars plus a Presidential Unit Citation), Vietnam (three more plus a Navy Unit Commendation), Lebanon, and the Persian Gulf and would only decommission for her final time on 8 February 1991.
She, of course, is a museum ship with at least another 20 years of service ahead of her following her latest dry docking.
Nagato, commissioned on 25 November 1920, had served just over 25 years with the Imperial Fleet but spent the majority of the war in home waters, one of the primary reasons she was still afloat in 1945, albeit a little battered. That would soon change, as she was sunk just seven months after this image was taken, sent to the bottom as a target in the Atomic tests at Bikini Atoll, Operation Crossroads, 29/30 July 1946.
Her decaying wreck will continue to rest on the ocean floor in Bikini Lagoon, some 170 feet down, for decades to come.
Some 85 years ago today. 6th Australian Division, Cyrenaica, Libya. 29 December 1940. Official wartime caption: “Near Bardia, one of the BREN gun posts is placed to protect the artillery batteries from dive bombers. Left to Right: Gunners N.H. McLeod and Whalen, Bombardier Greenwood.” Note the Boys .55 caliber anti-tank/anti-material gun and its distinctive “donut” style muzzle break.
Negative by James Francis (Frank) Hurley, Australian War Memorial No. 004944
Formed in September 1939 from the 16th (New South Wales), 17th (Victoria), and 18th Australian Infantry Brigades, the 6th Australian Infantry Division Brigade sailed for the I Australian Corps in the Middle East via brigade-sized lifts between 20 January and 8 May 1940 with the last (the 18th Bde) diverted to England at the time of Dunkirk. The carved-out brigade was replaced by the newly formed 19th Bde, raised in Palestine from the 2/4th, 2/8th, and 2/11th Battalions, in November 1940. (The 18th, having spent six months on defensive duties in England, finally reached North Africa in January 1941, where it was attached to the Australian 7th Division).
The 6th Australian Division entered combat at Fort Maddalena and Garn el Grein on 11 and 12 December 1940 and would see lots of action during Operation Compass in and around Tobruk, where the division lost 214 men killed, 790 injured and 21 captured– traded for a part in capturing 65,000 Italians by 5 February 1941.
Members of C Company (mostly from 14 Platoon), Australian 2/11th Infantry Battalion, part of the 6th Division’s 19th Bde, having penetrated the outer defenses of Tobruk, assemble again on the escarpment on the south side of the harbor after attacking anti-aircraft gun positions, on 22 January 1941. San Giorgio is one of the plumes in the background. Burning fuel oil tanks at the port are the second. AWM
Rushed to Greece in March 1941, the 6th Division suffered more than 2,800 casualties– most of those taken prisoner– in the withdrawal from Greece. Used to capture Syria from the Vichy French, post-Pearl Harbor/Darwin, the 6th was pulled from Syrian garrison duty and rushed home where they soon were allowed to bask in the “joy” of the Kokoda trail and the New Guinea campaign.
Disbanded in early 1946, during its six-year war, over 40,000 Australians served in the division’s ranks, fighting across three continents from Libya to Greece to Syria and New Guinea. Of these, 1,763 were killed in action or died, a further 3,978 were wounded and a total of 5,153 men became prisoners of war.
