Posted on 10/28/2005 5:14:15 PM PDT by pau1f0rd
At the height of the war in the Atlantic, Lt-Cdr Keith Morrison wrote a last letter to his wife and went to face a heroic death. Sixty-five years later, the newly discovered document sheds fresh light on a remarkable man caught up in extraordinary circumstances. Nigel Blundell pieces his story together, while we reprint the long-lost letter
The 37 freighters and tankers of Convoy HX84 were seven days out of Halifax, Nova Scotia - halfway home but still in mid-Atlantic - when the pocket battleship Admiral Scheer was sighted on the horizon. The convoy's sole escort, an ancient converted cargo ship armed with obsolete guns, turned to meet her.
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What followed was one of the most heroic actions of the Second World War, as the crew of HMS Jervis Bay prepared for a battle that could have only one outcome. Outgunned, and with no hope of survival, they sailed head-on for the German ship, feebly returning the broadsides of her 11-inch guns.
Crippled and sinking, the Jervis Bay held the Admiral Scheer at bay, allowing the convoy to disperse into a winter storm. All but nine ships escaped. More than 190 of the 256 Jervis Bay crew died.
A footnote to the story has since come to light, during the writing of a book about the battle, that tells a little more about the sort of men who gave their lives in that cold, cruel, unequal struggle.
It is a letter written by the officer who commanded the Jervis Bay in her dying moments. Lieutenant- Commander Keith Morrison wrote it on September 20, 1940, and marked it: "To be placed with my will and in the event of my death to be given to my wife."
Cdr Morrison was last seen, wounded but standing perfectly straight, on the foredeck of his ship as, having launched her last lifeboat, the Jervis Bay sank into the icy Atlantic on the evening of November 5, 1940. And, from the letter he left, we know of whom he was thinking during the final moments of his life... "It will be very hard if I have to die without holding you in my arms again and telling you of that great love I have for you."
Keith Morrison and Margaret Chisholm had married in Sydney in 1935, he a 32-year-old merchant navy First Officer with the Orient Line and she a 24-year-old Australian from a New South Wales farming family. They settled in Dorking and had two sons. Michael, born in 1937, has only a brief memory of being held aloft by his father on one of his shore leaves. Tony, born in July 1940, never saw his father. After the war, Margaret took the children to back Australia. She died in 1957.
"It was only after her death that we saw all her letters," says her son, Mike, now 68, a retired lieutenant-colonel with the Australian Army. "It was humbling to realise how enormously devoted they were to each other and to us boys."
One of the letters, written by Margaret to her family in New South Wales on November 19, reads: "I just can't believe that I will never see Keith again, but I have nothing but happiness and his two lovely children to remember him by, and no two people ever had a greater love and understanding between them as he and I did.
"I know too how much he longed for action and that he had his dearest wish fulfilled by taking part in such a glorious battle. Nothing has been more gallant in the history of the Navy and his two sons have a wonderful example to follow and I pray they may always be worthy of it."
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Margaret learnt from survivors of the Jervis Bay that her husband had taken over command of the ship after the captain (Captain Fogarty Fegen, awarded a posthumous VC) and two other senior officers had been killed. Despite being twice wounded, Cdr Morrison organised the defence of his ship as, ablaze from bow to stern, she was raked with gunfire from the Admiral Scheer. Finally, with all but one of her lifeboats burnt, he ordered "abandon ship".
Margaret later wrote: "They say he was as cheerful as a cricket and cheering them all up. There was only one boat left, and there wasn't room for everyone; and it was his duty to see it safely away, so he stayed behind.
"He was standing on the foredeck still perfectly erect with the surgeon and another officer when she went down. The surgeon was badly wounded, but he could stand up and was Keith's greatest friend on board. And so, if it had to be, it's rather wonderful knowing he went like that, in command of his gallant ship and with his greatest friend."
After receiving the letter that her husband had left with his will, Margaret again wrote to her family in Australia: "Keith was so gallant - as indeed were all those men - and his last thoughts, I know, would have been for me, Michael and Anthony and for his mother." Margaret's sons read all of her letters - and the final letter from Keith - only after her death.
Her son Michael says: "She handled my father's death with great resolve, courage and love. Perhaps hers was a loyalty bordering on obsession; but for sure it was love in the extreme. It must have been a sublime relationship and, for my mother, one that never did - nor did she ever want it to - come again."
His brother Tony, 65, who farms near Goulburn, New South Wales, has never taken Australian citizenship.
"That's out of a respect for my father," he says. "I have always been enormously proud that my Dad died for his country, and, although I grew up a real Aussie kid, I have always been patriotically English. I keep my British passport because that part of me is precious, sacred almost. It's how I can keep part of my father. I have always loved him, though I never saw him. But his letter to my mother tells me everything I would wish to know about him. He is an unsung hero."
BTTT!
Have a scanner....Just hope they scan. They numbered them because of the inconsistancy of the mail.....
They also had a code....Think most couples did.
Dad said that his aunt had given them a subscription to National Geographic....He noticed an article on the area he was stationed and was able to tell mom. "check out Aunt Ruth's Christmas present you might see friends of mine in the 20s!"
She got the message and knew exactly where he was.
He took a slow boat back to the states. A local girls (who worked at the movie theatre) brother was in charge of communication on the boat....Let his sister know when they would be arriving. She told mom...So mom was up, the phone only rang once, she answered it at 3:12 AM.....
BTW I was born nine months after my mother met dad at the door......a very wanted child.
Where do they find such men ?
The secret is not to be overly organized and a perfectionist who wants a memorabilia/photo collection to be a work of art that will last for two hundred years.
Have FUN with this daunting project and end up with a relaxed, always available organizational system that is forever low-maintenance.
I found some small, fun, jelly-looking pastel-colored file cabinets (for 8 1/2 x 11 file folders) in a specialty catalogue. Lightweight, inexpensive and attractive. Will last forever. Easy to carry by the handle to Aunt Mamie's house for perusal of contents. Easy to store on a shelf. Easy to grab out and go through at the next Thanksgiving get-together.
Label the outside of the file with an attractive or elegant larger sticker. Label the file inserts themselves by year, by event, by family, or whatever.
Then just drop photos in the proper slot helter-skelter. Who cares? They don't have to be in Dewey Decimal System order when you go through these oldies.
Once in a while, I cull what I don't want anymore. Hard to do, but I do get rid of some once in a while, or I give them away to other family members. I'm not the saver I used to be except for the really historic or sentimental goodies. How many pictures of the Smokies or Disneyland do I need, for heaven's sake.
I date all photos on the back in ball-point pen.
For letters, newspaper clippings and other paper memories, I use 8 1/2 x 11 (along with smaller) white manilla envelopes. They can hold one or more pieces of whatever you are saving. These manillas obviate mildew. Fun patriotic stickers, or pretty Victorian or floral ones, or whatever, can decorate these white envelopes.
Have relatives autograph the manillas with name, date or maybe a sentiment when you're all together looking at pics.
Serving tea is mandatory at this time.
Air the file(s) out once in a while.
Start a file with a few photos in the folders, stick a bow on it and give it as a gift to get the recipient (maybe a teen-ager?) started.
In your case, you could mix the love letters and some vintage WWII photos in one pastel file box.
No more "albums" for me, ever. Grabbing one of my file boxes and getting to what I want to get to immediately is for me.
And I don't want to fire up the DVD or VCR to show a couple of photos in the middle of a tape or disc only to see my company putting on their coats already.
Hope this helps. Works great for me. Have a ball!
Leni
I am struck by this man's bravery, even as I'm disgusted at the cowardice evident in the political landscape before us today... Where indeed do they get such men?
Oh how incredibly sad. And she died so young too. *sigh*
If he didn't, it's a shame. But I'll bet he did.
Leni
What a great letter!
That generation truly was exceptional; they say duty as something one did, not something to be avoided if it caused discomfort.
Quite a father to be proud of, for Michael and Tony.
Thank you.
There ought to be a book on these "codes" - some were pretty ingenious. I read of one guy who was a Jap prisoner and got this past their censors. "I am OK and now weigh as much as Michael."
Michael was a younger brother who weighed 85 pounds.
Thank you US Army EOD, what a moving letter! This is indeed worthy of the 'rarely used outside the Foxhole' ping list. I'm sure the gang will appreciate it.
P.S. Thanks for no boogey men. ;-)
…when the pocket battleship Admiral Scheer was sighted on the horizon. The convoy's sole escort, an ancient converted cargo ship armed with obsolete guns, turned to meet her.
Crippled and sinking, the Jervis Bay held the Admiral Scheer at bay, allowing the convoy to disperse into a winter storm.
Make sure that whatever storage materials you use for your photos and papers that it is ACID-FREE material. A huge problem for museum conservators of old photos and papers is how deteriorated the items are because of the leaching of caustic fumes from otherwise "harmless" storage materials. I say this as someone who has worked in museums before and know that it is a fine point that makes a difference.
Thanks for the ping.
Thanks.
They are all about. God has many faithful servants.
One sign that we are not abandoned by our Good Lord is that we find real men and real women amongst us. Such people are God's blessing.
But the main thing to consider is that the crew knew they were going to loose and be sunk. They also knew the temperature of the water they knew they would soon be swimming in. This is where the true bravery comes in.
So very true. Bravery is not doing something dangerous, it is doing something for the Greater Good that scares the daylights out of you.
There is no greater Love than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends. (John 15: 13)
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