From the Forum – Paymaster Lieutenant Geoffrey Stanning DSO RN

From the Forum – Paymaster Lieutenant Geoffrey Stanning DSO RN

24 Jul 24
Message from the Editor

In the words of Admiral Lord Nelson

“No captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of the enemy.”

Even if the Officer of the Watch has become the Logistics Officer! This account does not mention how seriously wounded Stanning was when the Bridge took the direct hit. The sangfroid of both Churchill and Geoffery Stanning belongs to a different age. With grateful thanks to members of the Naval Review Forum, and the RNZN oral history project. And, of course, Sir Winston Churchill, Admiral Geoffery Stanning and George Heppell. “The price of freedom is not free!”

Under the Strategic Defence Review thread, a rabbit hole but nonetheless fascinating! An absolute gem from the Forum

I can’t think of any collision or grounding that has taken place with a Pusser as OOW! Ah, just one: Paymaster Lieutenant Geoffrey Stanning who, finding himself the only survivor on the bridge of HMS Hardy at Narvik, attempted to ram a German destroyer but then ran his ship aground when she lost steam. He got a DSO not a Court Martial!

The context courtesy of Sir Winston Churchill, from The Gathering Storm Page 597…

On the morning of the ninth, the situation at Narvik was obscure. Hoping to forestall a German seizure of the port, the Commander-in-Chief directed Captain Warburton-Lee, commanding our destroyers, to enter the fjord and prevent any landing. Meanwhile, the Admiralty transmitted a press report to him indicating that one ship had already entered the port and landed a small force. The message went on:

Proceed to Narvik and sink or capture enemy ship. It is at your discretion to land forces, if you think you can recapture Narvik from number of enemy present.

Accordingly, Captain Warburton-Lee, with the five destroyers of his own flotilla, Hardy, Hunter, Havock, Hostspur and Hostile, entered West Fjord. He was told by Norwegian pilots at Tranoy that six ships larger than his own and a U-boat had passed in and that the entrance to the harbour was mined. He signalled this information and added: “Intend attacking at dawn.” Admiral Whitworth, who received the signals, considered whether he might stiffen the attacking forces from his own now augmented squadron, but the time seemed too short and he felt that intervention by him at this stage might cause delay. In fact, we, in the Admiralty, were not prepared to risk the Renown – one of our only two battlecruisers – in such an enterprise. The last Admiralty message passed to Captain Warburton-Lee was as follows:

Norwegian coast defence ships may be in German hands: you alone can judge whether in these circumstances attack should be made. Shall support whatever decision you take.

His reply was:

Going into action.

In the mist and snowstorms of April 10, the five British destroyers steamed up the fjord, and at dawn stood off Narvik. Inside the harbour were five enemy destroyers. In the first attack the Hardy torpedoed the ship bearing the pennant of the German Commodore, who was killed; another destroyer was sunk by two torpedoes, and the remaining three were so smothered by gun-fire that they could offer no effective resistance. There were also in the harbour 23 merchant ships of various nations, including five British: six German were destroyed. Only three of our five destroyers had hitherto attacked. The Hotspur and Hostile had been left in reserve to guard against any shore batteries or against fresh German ships approaching. They now joined the second attack, and the Hotspur sank two more merchantmen with torpedoes. Captain Warburton-Lee’s ships were unscathed, the enemy’s fire was apparently silenced, and after an hour’s fighting no ship had come out from any of the inlets against him.

But now fortune turned. As he was coming back from a third attack, Captain Warburton-Lee sighted three fresh ships approaching from Herjangs Fjord. They showed no signs of wishing to close the range, and action began at 7,000 yards. Suddenly out of the mist ahead appeared two more warships. They were not, as was at first hoped, British reinforcements, but German destroyers which had been anchored in Ballangen Fjord. Soon the heavier guns of the German ships began to tell; the bridge of the Hardy was shattered, Warburton-Lee mortally stricken, and all his officers and companions killed or wounded except Lieutenant Stanning, his secretary, who took the wheel. A shell then explored in the engine-room, and under heavy fire the destroyer was beached. The last signal from the Hardy’s captain to his flotilla was:

Continue to engage the enemy.

Meanwhile Hunter had been sunk. And the Hotspur and the Hostile, which were both damaged, with the Havock made for the open sea. They enemy, who had barred their passage, was by now in no condition to stop them, Half an hour later, they encountered a large ship coming in from the sea, which proved to be the Rauenfels carrying the German reserve ammunition. She was fired upon by the Havock, and soon blew up. The survivors of the Hardy struggled ashore with the body of their Commander, who was awarded posthumously the Victoria Cross. He and they had left their mark on the enemy and in our naval records.

Geoffrey Stanning came to NZ to be be Third Naval Member of the New Zealand Navy Board in 1955. The RNZN has run an Oral History Project and he was interviewed about his time in NZ in 1991. Here is the section when he was asked about the sinking of HMS Hardy and his making the decision to ground her.

There is one thing that you didn’t mention: it’s unusual for a Supply Officer to have a Distinguished Service Order. How did you earn that decoration ?

In a not very distinguished way. We were in harbour at Narvik and had done quite a lot of damage to the contents of the harbour. That was half the Second Destroyer Flotilla. Then we found ourselves between two half Flotillas of large German destroyers. A salvo had hit our bridge and took away the whole contents of the compass platform, except me. That, I discovered, was because a shell had burst in the wheelhouse below and blown me into the air and I happened to be in the air when the next salvo arrived. When I came to, I realized that we were doing 30 knots in the direction of some nasty looking rocks. I found part of the wheel down below, which I got down to, though one of my feet wasn’t working. Having cleared the wheel of the remains of the coxswain I managed to turn starboard. An able seaman whom I knew called Snail arrived from nowhere, and I said “you go on the wheel, and I will go up top again,” because we couldn’t see out. I went up top and then another salvo arrived and we seemed to be in half, with clouds of steam and no apparent ship. Do you mind all this?

Not at all, I asked the question.

You did. The engines had stopped, and I thought that the best thing to do was to save as many chaps as I could. I turned the ship towards the beach, and just at that moment the Flotilla Torpedo Officer arrived and said “what the hell goes on ?” I said “well thats the bit of beach we are going to ground on.” He said “we can’t do that.” I said “well yes we can,” and explained the situation, and so we decided to go aground. I ended up in hospital, George Heppell the torpedo officer ended up in a copper mine with the remains of the ships company, quite a lot of people. Thats really what had happened.

And were you in hospital as a Prisoner of War?

No, I was in hospital for four or five days, a very charming hospital, where there were fairly constant air raids with the nurses calling out “under ze bed, German fly.” A destroyer called Ivanhoe arrived, and the captain came in to see us, and he said “well I had better take you home for you will be needed for the court martial.” He was an old friend and that was alright, and that was the end of that.

You were evacuated?

Yes

Well

A slightly sad ending, of course George Heppell and I were firm friends, he died last year, or the year before, he lived in Cornwall.

Right, well thank you very much, because it is unusual for a supply officer…

I would add that Winston Churchill needed a rather stirring account to preserve himself, and he had to dish out a lot of gongs.

I think you are being very modest, sir?

No I am not.