Not long after this was taken almost all these men had fallen victim to a U-boat

Most, if not all, of these men posing happily on the foredeck of the destroyer HMS Daring, would soon be dead in one of the saddest Royal Navy tragedies of the first months of World War II.

When the Daring was torpedoed by U-boat ace Otto Kretschmer's vessel U-23 on February 18, 1940, only four¹ of her complement of 169 survived.

The battered picture was presented to the RNA archives by an unnamed relative of one of the men who died. The fact that the sailors are wearing caps with name tallies and white tops tends to indicate that the photograph may have been taken shortly before the war.

The following information was provided by Stroud branch member, Shipmate Owen Simpson, who is also secretary of the HMS Daring 1952-54 Association.

The wartime Daring was one of four destroyers escorting a convoy from Norway. In the early hours of February 18, off Duncansby Head, Scotland, U-23 sighted the convoy, but while still on the surface became trapped between the two port-side escorts. To escape she attacked the stern destroyer, HMS Daring. Apparently Daring's "darken ship" screens were inadequate, which allowed U-23 to easily target her.

Two torpedoes were fired and at least one of them hit Daring and caused a secondary explosion which broke the vessel in half. She sank in two minutes.

Among those who died was an Isle of Wight sailor who had spent just two days with his new bride before having to leave with the Daring.

He was Acting PO Charlie Webster, an only son. His father, Harry, was a member of the Royal Marines Light Infantry, killed in November 1914 when the old battleship HMS Bulwark blew up as she was taking on ammunition at Sheerness.

Note:

1. There appears to be a discrepancy on the number of survivors. In the book "The Admiralty Regrets - British Warship Losses of the 20th Century" the author Paul Kemp states that fifteen of her crew were rescued by HM Submarine Thistle.

The following is taken from the War Diary "The War Illustrated", Volume II, page 192

"Loss of 9 officers and 148 ratings".

The following is taken from "The War Illustrated", Volume II, pages 220/221.

I Was The Youngest Survivor of the Daring

Only five members of the crew of 162 on board the destroyer "Daring", which was torpedoed early on Sunday morning, February 18th, have returned home to tell the tale.

The youngest of these survivors, Able-Seaman Alfred Lionel Willcox, who lives in Plumstead High Street, London, told a representative of The War Illustrated that he would never forget the experience. Called up at the age of 20 in October, he was posted to the "Daring" after two and a half months training.

"I was at one of the gun stations on the middle watch looking forward to the time when very shortly I should be in my hammock, when suddenly there was a terrific explosion. The ship broke in half. I was thrown to the deck and saw the funnel falling towards me. Luckily it hit the gun and bounced over into the water.

"Then I went down with the ship as there was a second explosion. I remember rising to the surface to find the sea covered with oil. An air-lock beneath my oilskins enabled me to keep afloat, and I swam round until I came across two seamen clinging to a Carley float. One of them clambered aboard and pulled me and the other man up.

"It was dark, and we could hear the shouts of other men, but could not see them. The stern of the destroyer had returned to the surface, and I understand that one man clung to the propeller until he was picked up by a destroyer's boat.

"After a time a lieutenant of the 'Daring' swam towards us and calmly asked if he could board us. We pulled him on to the float."

He then described how with a splintered oar and bits of wood they paddled away from the wreck, which disappeared after about half an hour.

"We saw what we took to be a submarine," he went on. "Thinking it was British, we shouted as hard as we could. Then it occurred to us it might be the U-boat that had torpedoed us. We did not want to be picked up by them, so we stopped shouting, and the submarine disappeared."

For hours they paddled about, clinging to the float, so that the heavy swell should not throw them overboard. They sang songs and cheered themselves with the thought that they would be entitled to fourteen days' leave.

When daylight came there was not a sign of the wreck, of other survivors or of any ship that could rescue them. They were bitterly cold, for sleet had fallen during the hours they had been adrift. Eventually a destroyer came into view, and they tried to attract its attention. It stopped about a mile away. Then it began to move away.

"Our hopes dropped," he said. "Then apparently we were sighted and they approached."

He was in an exhausted condition when at length he was taken aboard the destroyer. Two days later he was landed in a Scottish port and received such attention that he concluded that "the Scots are the kindest people on earth."