On this day in 1918, Leading Stoker Albert Colwill was lost at sea

Albert Colwill was born on 15th June 1889, the second son of William and Thurza Colwill. At the time of his birth, his father was a farm labourer and the family was living at Higher Wooladon Farm, which is between Lifton and Launceston. A couple of years later, in the 1891 census (5th April 1891), his father is listed as an agricultural labourer and the family was living in one of the Albert Cottages at Bradstone, which housed workers on the Duke of Bedfords’s estate. By the time Albert was 11, the family was living at Tencreek Cottages, just outside of Menheniot. His father is a general agricultural and it is probable that Albert helped out on the farm. By the 1911 census (2nd April 1911) Albert was living and working at Batten’s Farm, North Hill, as a servant and waggoner. His parents lived nearby in Batten’s Cottage: his father was a general labourer. By the time of his death in 1918, William and Thurza had moved yet again, this time to Higher Downgate in Stoke Climsland.

Albert enlisted into the Navy at Devonport for a 12 year term on 7th April 1913. His given date of birth, and one that appears on all subsequent records, is 15th June 1893 so, for some reason, he must have given a wrong age. At the time of his enlistment his occupation is given as farm servant. He is 5’ 5 ½”, with an expanded chest measurement of 35”. His eyes are brown, his complexion dark and his hair dark brown.

After a period of training as a Stoker 2nd Class attached to Vivid II (Vivid II was an ‘Accounting Base’ at Devonport) he was assigned to the destroyer HMS Ajax on 16th October 1913 where he remained until 31st January 1917. Over that period he progressed through the Stoker ranks, from Stoker 2nd Class to Stoker 1st Class, to Acting Leading Stoker and then to Leading Stoker. HMS Ajax was a new ship when Albert joined and it saw action at the Battle of Jutland on 31st May 1916. Upon leaving HMS Ajax, and after several months attached to Vivid II, Albert joined the mine-sweeper/Q ship HMS Anchusa on 30th May 1917. A Q-ship was essentially designed as a decoy vessel to deceive and lure submarines. Unfortunately it was torpedoed by the German submarine U-54 (54 (Hellmuth von Ruckteschell) off the north coast of Ireland on 16th July, 1918 the majority of the eighty officers, men and boys were killed. Albert’s body was not recovered for burial. The official report of the incident reads "Having sailed from Lough Swiley on 14 July, she screened a homeward-bound convoy off the Northern Ireland coast the following morning and was then ordered to return to Lough Swilly. On the way she was diverted to assist with a search or a submarine reported in the area, but without success, after which she resumed her passage to Lough Swilly. At 2:07am she was hit on the starboard side by two torpedoes fired from a submerged U 54 (von Ruckteschell). She broke up and sank rapidly, going under in just two minutes, the boilers exploding as she sank. Twelve survivors were picked up the following morning in position 55.37N, -7.35.W".

Albert is remembered on the Royal Naval Memorial in Plymouth (Panel 28) as well as those in Stoke Climsland and North Hill Parish. He is also included on the Roll of Honour in St Tourney's church in North Hill, which is just a few yards from where he was living in Batten's Farm.

The Roll of Honour at St Tourney's Church. Sadly, as it is a stitched work, it is suffering from the ingress of damp and will need some remedial attention if it is to survive.

Albert Colwill's citation from the above.

The sinking of the Anchusa was reported by Georg Haidt, the wireless operator of the U54. This gives a unique insight into the incident by the 'enemy'. A translation follows the German text.

Am 13. ging es mit großer Fahrt über Wasser nach Westen. Viele Tümmler spielten um uns herum. Das war für uns ein Zeichen eines bevorstehenden Witterungsumschlages. Gegen Abend überzog sich der Himmel, und der Seegang wurde stärker. War das Wetter schuld, daß sich in der weiten Runde kein Gegner blicken ließ? Erst am 15. mittags, nachdem wir vorher den defekten Kreiselkompaß umgebaut hatten, kamen die ersten feindlichen Bewacher in Sicht, die bis gegen Abend vergeblich hinter uns herjagten.

Nachts zwei Uhr dreißig näherte sich uns ein 13 000-Tonnen-Dampfer. Sofort wurde zum Angriff übergegangen. Das Schiff, es mag wohl wertvolle Ladung an Bord gehabt haben, lief mit solch hoher Fahrt, daß wir fast nicht Schritt zu halten vermochten.

Zwei Uhr fünfundfünfzig kam das Kommando: „Rohr eins und zwei los!“

Ein Doppelschuß auf 1000 Meter Entfernung!

Zwei mächtige Detonationen und – der Dampfer sinkt. Noch trotzt er, bäumt sich auf und ragt mit dem Bug senkrecht aus dem Wasser. Eigentümlich schwelende Flammen zucken aus dem Schiff.

Wir entfernen uns mit „äußerster Kraft“. Plötzlich speit dort mitten im Meer ein Vulkan. Unter unerhörtem Krachen fliegt der ganze Dampfer, in Atome zerrissen, in die Luft. Ein weißglühender Fleck, sonst nichts! Auf uns hagelt es ununterbrochen herunter. Eisenstücke in allen Größen schlagen rings um uns ein. Eine riesige Sprengwelle läuft auf und begräbt uns bis über den Kopf im Wasser. Wie aus Stein gemeißelt stehen wir da und starren das gewaltige, Verderben bringende Schauspiel an.

 

On the 13th travelled at high speed westward on the surface. Lots of porpoises were playing around us. For us, that was the sign of an approaching weather change. Towards evening the sky became overcast and the seaway became stronger. Was it because of the weather that we could see no opponents in the distance around us? Not until midday on the 15th, after we had rebuilt a defective gyrocompass, did the first enemy escort ships come in sight, which had been fruitlessly chasing after us till towards evening.

At 2.30 at night a 13000 ton (sic) steamer approached. Attack was started immediately. The ship must have had a valuable cargo on board – it was running at such high speed we could hardly keep pace with it.

At 2.55 came the command: “Tubes one and two fire!” A double shot at 1000 metres range! Two powerful explosions and – the steamer sinks. Nevertheless it rears up and pushes its bow vertically out of the water. Curious smouldering flames flicker from the ship.

We make away at “Utmost power”. Suddenly a volcano spews from the middle of the sea. Amid unheard-of noise the entire steamer, torn to atoms, flies into the air. A white-hot glowing spot, then nothing! It hails uninterruptedly down on us. Bits of iron of all sizes strike all around us. A huge shockwave runs up and buries us over our heads in water. We stand as if carved in stone and stare at the tremendous, destroying drama.