RANCA NSW
HMAS HORSHAM J235
Namesake: City of Horsham, Vic
Builder: HMA Naval Dockyard
Laid down: 26 June 1941
Launched: 16 May 1942
Commissioned: 18 November 1942
Decommissioned: 17 December 1945
Fate:
Sold for scrap in 1956
Displacement: 650 tons (standard)
1,025 tons (full war load)
Length: 186 ft (57 m)
Beam: 31 ft (9.4 m)
Draught: 8.5 ft (2.6 m)
Propulsion: triple expansion
engine, 2 shafts,
2,000 hp
Speed: 15.5 knots (28.7 km/h;
17.8 mph)
Complement: 85
Armament: 1 × 4-inch gun
1 × 12-pounder gun
1 × 2-pounder gun
1 twin 0.5-inch gun
Extract from Corvette magazine
NOT ONE OF GREAT DRAMA
THE STORY OF A SMALL SHIP - J 235 HMAS HORSHAM
18 November, 1942 – 17 December, 1945
The title above comes from the book edited and published in 1990 by H.D. Chris Andrews. The Editors have taken the liberty of quoting two of the stories from the book which we feel will bring back memories to our corvette members.
A Milky Macaroon - By C.A. Archie Barratt
“In my mind’s eye I can still see him clearly over the hills and dales of time. Cap flat a-back with the tally just tinged with a salty green and the bow nicely starched with sugar and water mix, hard up against the ‘HMAS’. Tiddley collar hand sewn and bleached by “water of the ‘Med’ – only a few left: two for a quid!” and adorned in Robbie’s best, for a fiver. (Make it tight, Robbie, full ‘U’ and 36 inch bottoms. Dickey fronts on special, all bleached and a bargain at five bob a throw!)
LUCKY STRIKE hanging on the bottom lip and blue smoke curling up past squinting eyes as this ‘macca’ strolled along the road to LEEUWIN depot and an appointment as the Jauntie’s Office complete with hammock in pusser style with seven lashings slung over the left shoulder and kit bag stowed under the right armpit.
“Yes, I can still see myself; this wet eared doughy O/ D 2 bare-arsed with no right arm rate, pretending to be a Jack Strop but wondering inwardly just what the hell lies in store as 1943 gets under way and the action hotting up, UP THERE! Will he get the ‘OSSIE’ or one of the ‘N’ Class (Gimme the Boats!) or perhaps a crash draft to the Old Dart to commission the ‘SHROPPY’? Hope I don’t get the “PLATS” in Darwin; couldn’t cop that as THEY SAY IT IS A ‘CHOOK SHIP’ and I’m not a chook; at least, not yet!
Just finished New Entry School at Flinders and a week’s leave during which my squarie dumped me. (Never figured why, but her sister married a yank, so perhaps …….arragh gee!) There I was, ready, willing and able, lined up with other matelots at the R.P.O. Office waiting for my name to be called and a draft.
(“Where to, Chief?”) DUBBO…..WALLAROOO…….HORSHAM….. Cripes, what’s a Corvette? At last my name comes up: “HORSHAM”, you say? “Yes, truck No. 78. Now MOVE IT!” Hullo, who else have we here …….. Introductions all around including a couple of likely lads returning from THE TENT, they said (What’s a TENT? I knew them as pieces of canvas slung over a pole).
Arrive at “H” Shed and stumble on board, thus earning the sobriquet ‘TANGLEFOOT’ later to be changed to ‘HEDLEY’ by one ‘Fong’ Wootton, but I don’t know why. (One would never question ‘Fong’ would one)? My God, what’s this … a seething mass of humanity since we are cleared for sea and all bodies accounted for. Much shouting, ribaldry and banter as Jack Mark I and Jack Mark II arrive back from THE TENT. (That is not their names, but no names … no pack drill, as they say).
My education was about to commence. I had known what a hockey stick was as my sister played hockey, and mum had a brolly at home. Fish hooks and barbed wire were quite common place. I stood open mouthed as I listened to the natter as the Old Salts conducted a most fascinating conversation with timely diatribe on some sheila they seemed to know locally in Fremantle.
Pipes sound for leaving harbour; “Fall in, special sea duty men!” and away we go! I’d never been to sea before and recall looking over the side at the dark green depths. “Clear lower deck – fall in!” and the Buffer details off those with normal perks and allocates me to scrub out the Wardroom Flat.
A nice gentle roll and the ship moves sedately in a gentle sea, and I’m conscientiously on my hands and knees scrubbing away when this odd feeling comes over me. I lean back on my haunches, burp a couple of times then realise I just have to get topside, which I barely make and chunder over the side, much to the amusement of those nearby …. Sea Sickness!!
Well, what do you know?? And that, dear friends, was my introduction to the good ship HORSHAM and those good blokes who sailed in her”
Extract from Corvette magazine
Hold It …….Here’s the News!
By H.D. Chris Andrews
Behind the scenes in war-time there were countless numbers of caring citizens who gave freely of their time, their capabilities and of their money to provide the men of the fighting services with many items of good cheer beyond the realms of official supply.
These were the groups known broadly as the ‘Comforts Funds’. From such a group in our name town of Horsham we received a radio for our mess deck, which we were able to use when patrolling the waters of Gage Roads, off Fremantle, or when the ship was tied up in port.
By this gift we were able to follow the cataclysmic events taking place in the world beyond our own small ship. A ’hush’ would fall on the crew’s quarters as the mid-day news was heralded by the booming strokes of London’s Big Ben and followed by the recital each day of the second verse of Sir Owen Seaman’s sublime poem, ‘THE ODE’.
It would be difficult to remain unmoved by the impelling eloquence of his inspiring message, so memorable in the context of its times. As such a part of our lives as high seas or action stations or huckers or Bob Gurr’s bouncing bread it deserves a place, quoted in its entirety, in our memoirs.
The Ode
You that have faith – look with fearless eyes
Beyond the tragedy of a world at strife,
And trust that out of night and death shall rise
The dawn of ampler life.
Rejoice – whatever anguish rend your heart –
That God has given you, for priceless dower,
To live in these great times and have a part
In Freedom’s Crowning Hour!
That you may tell your sons who see the light
High in the Heaven, their heritage to take:
“I saw the powers of darkness put to flight;
I saw the morning break”
Sir Owen Seaman
Extract from Corvette Magazine November 1989
HMAS HORSHAM - Fremantle station - Winter 1943 - ARCH BARRATT, remembers…………
When salty old sea dogs like Fong Wooton get sea sick, its rough, and that's what it was when we commenced our memorable pleasure cruise to Broome, escorting MV "Koolinda" from the depths of a southern winter to the glorious tropical north of, what is now looked on as West Australia's answer to the Great Barrier Reef.
Horsham was a happy ship crewed by a good number of veterans who had served under "Hard over Hec" (Capt. H.M.L. Waller, the legendary Commander (D)) in the Med and our cruisers including some who survived the "Canny". Liberty Men parade was agleam with gold badges. All top blokes and me a macca OD with my OD mates under the firm hand of our sea daddy, Andy Andrews.
ETD was noon, but our beloved skipper, Wally Newby, suggested to "Koolinda” that it might be better to wait a day or two, only to get a reply that we were chicken. Wally upped pick and off into the worst gale ever to hit Freo and he did a Nelson when they tried to have us abort.
It was before Radar and I'd drawn the short straw to do the afternoon watch in the crow’s nest and spent the entire watch and the first hour of the dogs before I was game enough to get down just on dark. The first four hours were pile driving with the ship going under to the bridge combing and me getting wet as a shag, then we turned north and for the next 24 hours the bell rang as we did 50 degree plus rolls.
The mess deck was awash. Nobby Clark got a bad gash when a locker bottom drawer let go and traversed the width of the mess deck and clobbered him as he crashed on the mess deck bench. I've been in rough seas since, including the typhoon which wrecked half the US Navy, but the memory of being "up there" during a full on West Aussie gale, takes the cake. The gale petered out and we settled down to a real pleasure trip calling into Carnarvon, Exmouth Gulf, Port Hedland and Broome, cruising through some of the most picturesque areas on the entire coast and getting a suntan as well.
A bit of excitement one night in the middle watch with action stations on a sub echo. Years later a golfer friend remarked that he was part of the troop movement on the "Koolinda" and recalled the night they went to panic stations. I became his hero, as being part of the ship that saved his life. (Poor chap dropped dead lifting his golf clubs into the boot of his car at Karalbyn). We tied up at the long jetty at Broome and after scran the sea was 10 miles out and we were sitting on the sand.
Alongside, under the jetty, the tide races had left scooped out holes full of fish . We had a ball and fed the ship’s company. It was quite spectacular watching the tide rise and fall 30 feet.
The Horsham spent most of her time in the safe area of Fremantle engaged in typical corvette work.
Before the "Wallaroo" was sunk by her escort ramming her, it was in port for a week in four watches for leave, a week on escort standby and a week on asdic patrol. A very busy area with troops passing through on the way to the Italian campaign, a US sub base and the Dutch with their smart cruisers Tromp and Heemskerk. Plenty of action ashore in the pubs of Fremantle and Perth, a top city for upcomers only 12 miles by parlour-coach.