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CHAPTER 5

THE LATONA TAKES TO THE WATER AND SAILS AROUND THE CAPE, 1941

THE second ship of the class to complete, the Latona, had the shortest career of all the fast minelayers, but it was in no way an unexciting one. She was built by Thornycroft & Co. Ltd. at Southampton and was the largest ship ever built by that firm.¹ She was laid down on 4 April 1939, was launched on 20 August 1940 and was completed on 4 May 1941.²

The Latona was manned out of Portsmouth,³ and was assigned the pennant number M 76. Her motto was Vestigia Nostra Cavete, which translates as ‘Beware our tracks’.⁴ She seems to have had two crests, an official one with a gold sun eclipsed by a white crescent moon and another – which adorned the Captain’s stationery – featuring a bird on an island.

When new, the Latona was painted up in a layer-cake camouflage scheme of three tones, with the darkest one lowest and the lightest one highest in the ship. She was the fourth Royal Navy warship to bear this name, the Latin version of the Greek ‘Leto’, the mother of the god Apollo and the goddess Artemis. The Latona was also named after the small, old protected cruiser that was converted to a minelayer in 1908 and served in the First World War,⁵ during which she supposedly laid the mines that sank the German light cruiser Breslau and badly damaged the battlecruiser Goeben off Imbros in the Aegean Sea on 18 January 1918.⁶

The launch of the Latona on 20 August 1940. (National Maritime Museum N 14035)

The Latona’s first and only commandeering officer was Captain Stuart Latham Bateson, who took command on 15 January 1941, when she was still fitting out. Wanting to know more about this Latona woman, he wrote to his sixteen-year-old son Alec, who was then pursuing a classical education at Rugby School. Alec told him that Latona ‘was a Roman mythological figure derived from a Greek one called Leto, one of the Titans, who had been punished for – or had escaped from – an “affair” with Zeus (Jupiter) the King of the Gods and helped by Poseidon (Neptune) the God of the Sea, against the angry vengeance of Hera (Juno) the Queen of the Gods, into becoming a quail, alighting as a fugitive on an island (Ortygia/Delos) floating in the sea, which was then anchored for her comfort and where in due course she became the mother of Apollo and Artemis (Diana) the twin deities of sun and moon’. The Latona would also have an exciting life, but not quite as colourful as that of her namesake.

Captain Bateson and his twin brother were born in 1898, their father being a High Court judge. He attended Rugby School and the Royal Naval College Keyham and then entered the Royal Navy as a special entry cadet in 1916. In 1923, he qualified as a ‘Torpedo Officer’, when the Torpedo Branch was responsible for maintaining ships’ electrical equipment. Also in 1923, he married Marie Elphinstone Fleming Cullen and they had two children, Alec and Isobel. Stuart Bateson was promoted to Captain in 1939.⁷

After Admiral Bateson’s death in 1980, Marie Bateson received a letter from the Latona’s Cook-Baker, a Charles Simmons, who offered a glowing tribute to her husband, a ‘Real Gentleman’ whom he greatly respected. He reported that the ‘bond of friendship we had aboard HMS Latona was created by our Wonderful Skipper who always had time to listen to what one said to him’. After his signature, he added, ‘The Baker who used to make the cakes your husband did so enjoy’.

As the Latona completed in Southampton, the rest of her crew joined her. One was a Telegraphist Sidney Albert Banner, who was born in the Aston district of Birmingham. Once the war began, he tired of life in the barracks and volunteered to go to sea and was informed he was on draft to a ship called the Latona. No one seemed to have heard of her, though some, confusing her with Laconia, thought she was a liner converted to an armed merchant cruiser. Telegraphist Banner recalled later that ‘it was something of a shock to us when, having been trucked to the appropriate dock, we were confronted by a sleek, three-funnelled warship like a small cruiser in appearance’.⁸ Once again, an Abdiel had fooled someone.

Captain Stuart Latham Bateson. (NPG × 163947, portrait of 25 January 1949 by Walter Stoneman, © National Portrait Gallery, London)

On completion, the Latona, as Job No. 1198, ran a four-hour full-power trial. Maddeningly, Thornycroft’s one-page record of the trial did not record the speed attained, but did record the shaft horsepower (72,860, higher on the starboard shaft than the port one), fuel consumption (24.5 tons per hour), steam pressures, draught and other information. A few slight defects were found, but a handwritten note at the bottom of the record declared, ‘A very fine performance + shows care in design + construction’.⁹

The Latona was allowed no time to dawdle about. She was sent straight to Milford Haven to have her minelaying equipment checked, which was done by dropping dummy mines out the mine doors and onto a lighter.¹⁰ She then proceeded to the King George V Dock at Glasgow to load cargo and personnel. On her way, she performed a speed trial and is unofficially said to have achieved 40.3 knots in an unladen condition.

The Latona fitting out in Southampton. (National Maritime Museum N 499983)

On 15 May, the Latona loaded a number of 2pdr anti-tank guns, ammunition and stores needed for the army in North Africa, as well as 20mm Oerlikon cannon for the Mediterranean Fleet at Alexandria. As the cargo was loaded, the temperature on the mining deck was said to be 100° F. The Latona also took on a number of Royal Air Force and Royal Navy passengers, one of whom was a Signalman named Harold Osborne, who was surprised to find himself on the Latona instead of a troopship and kept a journal during the upcoming voyage. There was not enough space for every passenger to sling a hammock and some had to sleep – rather uncomfortably – on the mess tables. During the long voyage ahead the men in the Latona began to form opinions of the other men aboard, not always favourable ones, such as the Regular Service ratings’ opinions of the Hostilities Only men and vice versa.

As the Latona completed loading, Acting Sub-Lieutenant William Barrett, RNR, noticed that the ship’s masts were sloping toward opposite sides of the ship, which indicated that the ship was twisting. He reported his observation to the First Lieutenant and the Captain ordered the cargo discharged and reloaded so it would be properly balanced.¹¹

Sub-Lieutenant Barrett was Horace William Augustin (‘Bill’) Barrett, who was born in 1920 in Wellington, New Zealand, to British parents. His family returned to Britain when he was five or six years old and he attended St Joseph’s College in Beulah Hill in London. Barrett then entered the Merchant Navy before transferring to the Royal Naval Reserve.

Barrett shared a cabin in the Latona with Acting Sub-Lieutenant Paddy Donovan from Weymouth, Dorset. Both were a bit wet behind the ears and when the ship’s First Lieutenant wanted both of them he bellowed, ‘Stupids!’ When he wanted Dovovan, he bellowed ‘Stupid Mk I’ and when he wanted Barrett he bellowed ‘Stupid Mk II’, names the two men used to address each other for years afterwards.

On Friday 16 May, the Latona cast off from the King George V Dock and set sail for Greenock. She was quickly recalled to load more cargo and then sailed for Greenock for good. As she sailed down the Clyde, Signalman Osborne opined that:

the sight of the shipbuilding yards at full blast was an amazing sight; ships nearly completed, half built, keels newly laid, all shapes and sizes, it was marvellous. We saw the sister-ship of the Latona nearly finished and named Manxman and also the new battleship Duke of York, sister-ship to K.G.5 [King George V] practically ready for sea.¹²

The Latona reached Greenock at 20.00 and dropped anchor to refuel from an oiler. At 23.00 she weighed anchor and proceeded down the Clyde to the open sea. It was a sad goodbye. Signalman Osborne wrote:

All of us passengers and crew were on the upper deck, as the nights were short and we could see the riversides until about 11.30 p.m., mainly, though, we were all taking the last glimpse of our homeland and wondering when we should be able to return to the pleasant shores once again; these thoughts animated all of us and there were certainly some very sad faces there. I wouldn’t like to picture mine; I’m sure it was terrible. There we all stood until the grey mist changed to black of night and enveloped our dear land and the only thing left was our thoughts and dreams of those we left behind.

As the Latona headed out to sea, many of the men who had never been to sea before discovered seasickness, sometimes alleviated by being up on deck in the open air.

The day the Latona left, Captain Bateson addressed the crew, saying that, while many of the crew had never been at sea before, they would pull together as a team.¹³ The next day, Captain Bateson went on the loudspeaker and informed the crew and passengers they were bound for Gibraltar. The Latona ploughed steadily along at 22 knots and was soon well out into the Atlantic. That day she spotted a convoy heading for home.

On the third day out there were new wonders to behold, flying fish that spread their wings and skimmed over the water as the Latona’s bow-wave disturbed them and then porpoises appeared jumping and diving and playing about the ship.

On the voyage there was often not a lot for many of the crew and passengers to do, but there were exercises to be carried out and there was usually something to be painted, such as the flag deck (several times on the voyage). There were usually plenty of signals for the signalmen to decode and distribute and the Latona had begun receiving signals warning her of the presence of U-boats in her path. Each time she skirted the dangerous areas and avoided them.

The Latona as completed. (National Maritime Museum N 49991)

There was still plenty of boredom, leading to thoughts of home and random thoughts such as wondering ‘why with all this water one nation would want to rule it’. In addition to the boredom there was also sometimes ‘chokker’, the feeling of being fed up with life, with fellow sailors, with the Navy or with a long voyage.

On 20 May, land was sighted as the coasts of Spain and Portugal came into view, including miles of sandy Spanish beaches. Seagulls began following the ship as she neared the Straits of Gibraltar and sighted Africa on the starboard side. Then the Rock of Gibraltar itself was sighted, described by travel guide Osborne as ‘a stupendous sight – I can see why it’s never been taken off us’. The Latona docked in the harbour that afternoon, but there would be no run ashore for the passengers and crew; instead the ship refuelled and loaded stores and provisions, more Oerlikons and mail for the Middle East. That morning, the German airborne invasion of Crete began.

The next day the Latona sailed from Gibraltar at 06.00, but not for the Malta and the eastern Mediterranean, as some aboard assumed. Instead she sailed back through the Straits and into the Atlantic, bound for Freetown. As she headed south, the heat became terrific. She passed the Azores, zig-zagging all the while to avoid German raiders or U-boats.

On 24 May – the day the Bismarck sank the Hood far to the north – the Latona was passing the French port of Dakar in Senegal when ‘the Skipper seemed to think something was up’, sounded Action Stations and increased speed to a reported 39 knots. At least the passengers were duly impressed; Signalman Osborne wrote, ‘Oh! Boy did we go, like an express train as though a million devils were after us’. The British and Free French had made an unsuccessful attack on Dakar the previous September, but the French let the Latona pass without retribution.

On Sunday the 25th, the men of the Latona could see the greenery of the land getting closer and closer and at midday the ship anchored at Freetown, only to see many ships already there, including the battleship Nelson and the aircraft carrier Eagle. The ship tied up alongside the giant Nelson, whose bulk deprived the Latona of any breeze there might have been and worsened the already hot climate. Apart from inspecting the Nelson, the men spent time trading clothes for souvenirs with the locals in their boats. The locals were well used to carrying on this business and were even ready with old English variety songs to entertain their prospective customers. The stay was not a long one and at 19.00 the Latona weighed anchor and set sail for the island of St Helena, Napoleon’s final home.

On 27 May – the day the Bismarck was sunk off France – the Latona was within eighteen hours of St Helena when she was given orders to return to Freetown. Apparently she had missed an Admiralty signal she should have received at Gibraltar and had to turn back. On the return voyage, she was very short on fuel and had to reduce speed to a crawl. The buzz aboard was that they would refuel at Freetown and would continue to Gibraltar and through the Mediterranean. An albatross began to follow her on the way to Freetown.

On 29 May, on her way back to Freetown, the Latona held her first ‘crossing the line’ ceremony, complete with a bath of seawater, King Neptune and his queen, the police and a dunking chair. Captain Bateson welcomed Neptune as he ‘appeared’ on the foc’sle, having come up the hawse pipe. The novices were thoroughly soaped by Neptune’s barber before being chucked into a canvas tank manned by ‘Bears’. This exercise took an entire afternoon and no one was spared, least of all the ship’s First Lieutenant.¹⁴

The next day the Latona arrived back in Freetown, only to be sent back in the direction of St Helena and the Cape the same day. A prospective voyage through the Mediterranean was supposedly not in the offing due to the battle then raging in Crete.

On 2 June, the Latona arrived at St Helena, anchoring at 08.00. This green island reminded Signalman Osborne of an English village with its English-style homes, English-speaking inhabitants and modern motorcars. Their stay there was a brief one, however, and the Latona sailed at 14.00 for Simonstown in South Africa.

During the next few days of the voyage, news arrived of the fall of Crete and of the severe losses and damage suffered by the ships of the Mediterranean Fleet in the battle. Some on board the Latona were glad to have missed sailing through the Mediterranean.

As the ship sailed farther south, Telegraphist Banner enjoyed some ‘magical nights under the huge stars of the Southern Hemisphere’, as the ship ‘drove along in velvety darkness with a phosphorescent wake streaming out astern’. The heat was such that it was much more comfortable for men to sleep on deck, as long as the men were up before morning cleaning stations. Looking up from the deck, one could see ‘the masts and funnels outlined against an amazing backdrop of stars, swaying gently to and fro’.¹⁵

The Latona passed Capetown during the night and arrived at Simonstown at 08.00 on 6 June. On arrival leave was piped and some made up for bypassing Capetown by taking a train there. After a trip along a beautiful sea front and by lovely villages and towns, they arrived at Capetown, with Table Mountain in the background. ‘Jack’ was welcome everywhere; he rode everywhere free, had free drinks, enjoyed large meals for very little cash and generally received royal treatment.

Signalman Osborne wanted to live there, which may have been the point of the royal treatment and wrote that he could understand why eighty men from the battleship Nelson had deserted there. As Osborne concluded, ‘All good things end’, and the men returned to Simonstown and the Latona. Or most of them did, anyway; a Leading Telegraphist did not return and was rumoured to have been picked up later in Johannesburg.¹⁶ His absence would increase the workload of the remainder of the W/T staff, which sometimes had to double up to cover an inexperienced ‘Hostilities Only’ rating, Barham.

On 8 June the Latona sailed at high speed from Simonstown for Durban, but was battered on the way by heavy seas. Durban was reputed to idolise ‘Jack’, but the Latona only stayed long enough to refuel and her men were largely denied the hospitality of Durban. On Friday the 13th the Latona arrived at Mombasa in Kenya in time for the rainy season and on cue rain came down in buckets the whole time she was there. In the harbour, the battleship Barham was repairing damage suffered during the battle for Crete. The Latona left early the next day for Aden. On Thursday, 17 June, the Latona arrived at Aden, dubbed by some on board as ‘the hottest place on Earth’. She departed that day and sailed into the Red Sea, with Arabia on one side and Africa on the other and reached Port Tewfik on the southern edge of the Suez Canal on 19 June. Her voyage was finally nearing its end.

A Latona ‘Crossing the Line’ certificate. (Author’s collection)

At dawn on the 20th, the Latona started a slow passage through the Suez Canal, passing wrecks, fortifications and airfields along the way. She passed through the canal and arrived at Port Said the same day and unloaded her cargo, after a journey of thirty-six days.¹⁷ During the voyage, according to Captain Bateson, ‘We arrived before we were expected everywhere we called’.

A cartoon of the Manxman by Lt J C Cherry in 1942, evidencing his pride in her being able to take on any job, in common with her sister

At Port Said, the passengers and crew were allowed a swim and ice cream could be purchased from an Egyptian boat. That night the Latona sailed into the Mediterranean, bound for Alexandria. She was supposed to arrive at dawn, but because of an air raid that night the approaches had to be swept for mines first. The Latona finally arrived at Alexandria at midday on 21 June.

At Alexandria, she joined the Mediterranean Fleet and almost immediately came a signal from Admiral Cunningham’s flagship to paint ship, supposedly in ‘Mediterranean gray’ with only her funnels a ‘duck-egg green’. The Latona’s slightly older sister, the Abdiel, was already a veteran member of the fleet and soon they were carrying out exercises together. The Latona carried out a minelay with dummy mines to try her hand at the art she was designed for. During nightly air raids on Alexandria, the Latona lent her 4in guns and sometimes her pom-pom to the cacophony.¹⁸ The Abdiel had shown the way at Crete, but the Abdiel and Latona were about to demonstrate the fast minelayers’ versatility and usefulness in an even bigger way, paving the way for further demonstrations by their sisters.