Texan

 Introduction

Her keel was laid down on July 12th, 1901 on Slipway ‘K’, and she was launched on August 16th, 1902. This means she was lost just shy of her 40th ‘birthday’. William D. Burnham, American-Hawaiian’s frugal first manager, would have been sad for her loss, but proud nonetheless for her remarkably long career. With the exception of Virginian (originally launched in 1903, but not purchased by A-H until 1907), all of Texan’s contemporaries were either sold off and replaced with more modern vessels just prior to and just after World War I, or lost in the war itself.

American-Hawaiian had contracted two other vessels with New York Ship during this same period; Nebraskan and Nevadan.

While the Nebraskan and Nevadan were of a similar design, they were quite a bit smaller than Texan (6,000 vs. 12,000 tons), and so Texan was one-of-a-kind at New York Ship. They were all likely designed by the brilliant marine engineer Valdemar F. Lassoe.

On her maiden voyage in 1902, Texan, under the command of Master George D. Morrison (18xx-1904) made the trip from New York to San Francisco (13,129 miles) in 47 days, 8 Hours, and 52 Minutes, eclipsing American’s run. This record would hold for many years. 

Despite the record setting runs of Texan and the other vessels in the fleet which had customers lining up to use the new fast service, American-Hawaiian was always looking at ways to improve the service and profitability. 

Cochran and Ginger noted; 

“Even more serious was the problem of refueling. The company’s ships coaled at St. Lucia in the British West Indies and at Coronel in Chile. At the later place, especially, the available coal was inferior; it burned too fast and sent dangerous sparks from the funnel. This circumstance emphasized the desirability of converting American-Hawaiian vessels from coal to some other fuel.” 

This was the next major advancement that American-Hawaiian pioneered; most would agree their most important technological innovation. This was again thanks to their engineering consultant Valdemar Frederick Lassoe. The new oil burners had several major advantages: 

• 1. It freed the vessels from having to make coaling stops in Chili and the Caribbean, saving additional time and money.

  2. Oil generated 20% more power per dollar and therefore was more efficient, saving more money.

  3. “The doors of the boiler were not opened throughout the voyage, heat in the boiler remained constant, and the boiler’s longevity and efficiency were both enhanced.”

  4. Nine fewer engineering crew were needed, again saving money.

  5. It was safer, cleaner and freed space on the vessel for more cargo.

So successful was the change, that it caught the attention of the United States Navy, who conducted a number of tests on the Nevadan and Nebraskan, and soon began converting their own vessels to oil.

At the end of 1903, Texan set another world record; 14,086 miles of ‘Continuous Long Distance Steaming’ from Tacoma, WA to Philadelphia, PA.

Around this same time a British aristocrat and businessman named Sir Weetman Pearson (later Lord Cowdray) approached the company with an ultimatum of sorts. Even though work had already begun on the Panama Canal, it would be many more years, more than ten in fact, before it was complete. Pearson had struck a deal with the Mexican government to build a railroad link between their Pacific Coast port of Salina Cruz across the narrow 150 mile wide Tehuantepec Isthmus to their Gulf of Mexico port of Coatzacoalcos (later renamed Puerto Mexico). American-Hawaiian was given first rights if they agreed to abandon their Straits of Magellan route and used the Tehuantepec route exclusively. Pearson would gain the business of the largest intercoastal carrier, helping to make his project financially viable from the start. If American-Hawaiian accepted they had the potential to reduce transit time by another 20 days. If they refused, the well connected, well funded Pearson threatened to form a rival steamship line to compete with them.

It wasn’t an easy call. American-Hawaiian was very successful and the owners were quite content to await the completion of the Panama Canal. For the most part, they were the best game in town. Burnham, especially, was nervous about all the extra handling their freight would have to endure. In the end, owners Dearborn and Lapham knew Pearson had the means to back up his threat and reluctantly agreed after two years of negotiations. They signed the contract with the Tehuantepec National Railway of Mexico on May 9th, 1905.

Texan almost didn’t get the opportunity to use the new route. According to an article in ‘The Brooklyn Daily Eagle’, Friday, February 16, 1906;

“S.S. TEXAN IN TROUBLE.

Loaded at Bush’s Stores and Is Now on Fire in Honolulu

The American-Hawaiian Line’s big steamship Texan is reported as being on fire and in a bad way in Honolulu. She loaded at Bush’s store a couple of months ago for San Diego, San Francisco, Puget Sound and Honolulu, with an immense general cargo. She arrived safely at the latter port on Saturday last. On Sunday morning fire was discovered in the between decks as she was lying at the wharf. Steam was at once pumped into the hold, but without much apparent results. She had on board 1,000 barrels of lime and a lot of shingles, both forming a bad combination.

The latest report received here is that the sides and deck of the ship indicate increased heat, and that the efforts to extinguish the fire have failed so far.”

Despite the melodramatic newspaper article, the Texan would survive to sail again.

Her Captain at the time, William Lyons, was an avid photographer and subscribed to Camera Craft Magazine. While renewing his subscription, he was asked to send in some of his images. As Lyons noted; 

“The letter reached me at Honolulu where my hands were quite full of other matters; fire having broken out on board ship the day after our arrival and it was four days before it could be extinguished, although the vessel was unharmed. Leaving there with over eleven thousand tons of sugar, it was not until we reached Coronel, Chili that a letter could be dispatched.”

Texan continued to set records. According to ‘The Hawaiian Star Newspaper’, Monday, March 18, 1907: 

“Another Record For S.S. Texan Makes it from Seattle in 7 days, 23 Hours – Holds Round the Horn Banners

In seven days and twenty-three hours, record time, the American-Hawaiian S.S. Texan, Captain Lyons, this morning arrived from Seattle, docking at the railway wharf about 9:30 o’clock.

The Texan brings 3,500 tons of general freight for Honolulu and has 1,000 tons for Hilo and Kahului. Her cargo includes 500 tons of New York Freight.

Out of Seattle for a couple of days the large freighter had heavy north-westerly weather and for the last three days of her run she experienced strong northeasterly winds. She came down in splendid time, as noted, averaging 12.7 knots.”

At the end of 1907, Texan started the next phase of her career, as part of American Hawaiian’s Pacific fleet sailing the “Golden Triangle” between Hawaii, West Coast ports and Salina Cruz, Mexico under Master J.B. Hall. Below is a partial list of sailings I found for her during this time:

By December of 1913, Texan was one of twenty-six American-Hawaiian vessels servicing the Pacific Coast and Hawaii according to the following advertisement in the Pacific Marine Review: 

By this time, Texan was under the command of Master L.A. Carlisle, which lasted about two years.

Cochran and Ginger continued; 

“This crisis came on 21 April 1914, when the United States Marines occupied the town of Vera Cruz on instructions from President Wilson. The two countries seemed to be on the brink of war."

"The crisis found six American-Hawaiian freighters berthed at Puerto Mexico and Salina Cruz [unknown if Texan was among them]. For a few days, there was doubt that these vessels could escape undamaged from Mexico; and even after they had succeeded in doing so, American-Hawaiian was still in a desperate situation. Having made its plans on the assumption that the Panama Canal would be open by then, the company now found that the Canal and the Tehuantepec route were both closed to it. Dearborn made his decision swiftly. On 24 April, three days after the occupation of Vera Cruz, American-Hawaiian announced that it was shifting back immediately to the route through the Straits of Magellan, which would take 20 days longer than the Tehuantepec route but which would not require any re-handling of cargo.”

Eventually the Panama Canal did open, although a series of landslides would force American-Hawaiian and Texan to use the Straits of Magellan at least one more time.

After Carlisle, Master G.B. Knight took command of Texan. Below is a list of sailings I found for this period:

The First World War was already raging at this point, and it was only a matter of time before America’s young men and material assets like the Texan would join the fray.

By the time the end of 1915 came and it was time to negotiate the contract with the Sugar Factors, the situation had changed. Cochran and Ginger continued: 

“Even in the Hawaiian sugar traffic, American-Hawaiian was no longer indispensable, due to the growing importance of the sugar refineries in California. Therefore, in January, 1916, Dearborn began negotiations with the Sugar Factors to terminate the existing contract. He proposed that American-Hawaiian should carry sugar from the Islands to San Francisco, where that part of the crop bound for the East Coast could be turned over to the railroads. American-Hawaiian would pay the transcontinental railroad freight charges ($12 per ton) if the Sugar Factors would pay it the regular Magellan rate ($8.75 per ton). Under this arrangement, American-Hawaiian would suffer a direct loss of $3.75 per ton plus its operating expenses, but its vessels would be freed for more lucrative use. The Sugar Factors accepted Dearborn’s plan on 7 February 1916, and it took effect immediately. In 1916 and 1917, the company used two vessels to haul the sugar crop from the Islands to San Francisco. By 1918 it had ceased serving the run that had called it into being and given it a name.”

Far from abruptly abandoning the Hawaiian trade, American-Hawaiian went out of its way to make sure the Sugar Factors had a viable alternative, and set the stage for Matson to take over.

Just before Texan was to be requisitioned by the government, she was chartered to make a trip to France. She almost didn’t survive; according to the Sausalito News, Volume 34, Number 3, 19 January 1918:

“S.S. TEXAN SINKING SENDS “GOOD-BY”

Big Carrier of War Supplies Rammed Amidships "Somewhere in the Atlantic;" Vessels Rush to Aid

An Atlantic Port.—Agents of the American steamship Texan, a vessel of 14,000 tons, Monday received advices from naval authorities that she was sinking at sea. The location of the ship was not given.

The naval authorities did not state the cause of the Texan's distress, but reports reaching shipping circles here from other sources were that the vessel had been rammed amidships in collision with another ship.

It was said a steamer which had picked up the Texan's S.O.S. calls was hurrying to her assistance and that the crew of forty-three had taken to the boats.

The Texan left here recently with a cargo of nitrates bound for a French port, agents of the vessel stated.

Messages reaching here from another port said that a steamer arriving there Monday reported that at 4 a.m. she picked up an S.O.S. from the Texan reporting that she had been struck amidships and was sinking. The last message from the Texan said "good-by—no more."

There were forty-three men aboard. The Texan's wireless operator reported that the starboard boats had been lowered; that the aft boat was lost and that an attempt was being made to lower the forward boat.

Oil from the ship's hold was poured on the starboard side in an effort to make sea conditions better for launching the lifeboats.

Texan Formerly Crack Pacific Carrier

The Texan was one of the largest of the fleet of the American-Hawaiian Steamship Company that was operated before the war between Honolulu and this port and the Atlantic. On her last voyage to this port she brought a cargo of 14,000 tons of sugar from the islands, one of the heaviest cargoes in the history of trade on the Pacific. The big carrier left here last September under command of Captain G. B. Knight of 1304 Park Avenue, Alameda.

The ship holds the world's record for continuous long-distance steaming, 14,086 miles, from Tacoma to Philadelphia.

She went through the Straits of Magellan on the memorable trip, the starboard engine not stopping in all the thousands of miles of steaming, and the port engine only twenty minutes.

The vessel also held the record for the passage from New York to San Francisco, a distance of 13,129 miles, by way of the straits, in forty-seven days, eight hours and fifty-two minutes.

The Texan was built in 1902 and was 8615 tons gross tonnage. She sailed from New York January 5 on her last voyage.

Captain Knight's wife and children learned of the sinking of the vessel through the agents of the American-Hawaiian here.”

The Texan survived, and according to The El Paso Herald, January 18, 1918:

“Texan Rammed, Full of Water, Reaches Port

Comes In With A Gaping Hole Torn By Convoying Warship In Collision

An Atlantic Port, Jan 1918 – The Hawaiian Line steamship Texan, which was in a collision at sea last Monday [January 14th, 1918], arrived here safely today under her own steam. It became known that she was rammed by a convoying warship, which punched a large hole in her port side.

The Texan’s watertight bulkheads saved her from sinking. Several compartments were full of water when the big merchantman steamed slowly into port. As far as could be learned the Texan made her return voyage from the scene of the accident unescorted. It was said that none of the crew was injured.

The vessel was taken in charge by coast guard craft when she entered the harbor. She will be dry docked for repairs.”

Naval History and Heritage Command continued; 

“[Texan] operated bringing troops of the American Expeditionary Force home from France until 7 August 1919 when she was assigned to the 5th Naval District. Texan was decommissioned on 22 August 1919 and returned to the USSB.”

Texan spent several months in dry-dock having all the modifications (i.e.; armament, port holes, deckhouse, evacuation gear) reversed and restored to her pre-war condition.

The Inter-War Period

After the war, despite losing five vessels (Californian I, Columbian I, Kansan I, Missourian I and Montanan I), American-Hawaiian had not only wiped out its short term debt, but was once again in very strong financial shape and looking to expand its intercoastal and transatlantic trade.

From late 1919 to about 1924 Texan was part of the transatlantic trade under the umbrella of United American Lines, as part of American-Hawaiian’s partnership with Hamburg-American Line. Former master William Lyons, who had commanded her early on in her career and now in his 60’s was back at the helm. 

Despite being in service nearly twenty years at this point, Texan was still a valuable asset. According to New York Shipbuilding Corporation – A RECORD OF SHIPS BUILT, published in 1921; 

“Built in 1902, the second ship delivered from this yard, S.S. Texan of the American-Hawaiian Line Fleet, is still quoted as one of the most economically driven ships afloat anywhere.” 

It is interesting to note that Arkansan and her sisters were just being completed at this time. 

Below is a list of sailings I found for Texan during this time:

In 1924, around the time United American Lines started to unravel, Texan returned to the main American-Hawaiian fleet and would quietly spend the next 18 years in the U.S. mainland intercoastal trade. “Quietly” appears to be an understatement. I was able to find very little information on this phase of Texan’s career, especially from the mid-1920’s to the mid-1930’s.

The May 1st 1936 schedule showed Texan sailing from Boston, MA June 17th, Camden, NJ June 19th, Philadelphia, PA June 20th, and New York, NY June 23rd, arriving at Los Angeles, CA July 11th, San Francisco, CA July 13th, Oakland & Alameda, CA July 14th, Seattle, WA July 18th, and Tacoma, WA July 20th.

The merchant mariner files I looked into for this project provided some additional details; 2nd Mate Graham Griffiths was assigned to the Texan first briefly as a Jr. 3rd Mate for 3 months in 1937, then again for a short coastwise voyage in 1939 under Master W.C. Brower, and finally in July of 1940 under Fred C. Gaidsick, until the time of Texan’s loss.

Griffith’s was likely aboard Texan in October of 1939, when Honolulan’s Charles N. Bamforth temporarily relieved the Master (possibly Bower), who was on vacation. Bamforth related a story about Texan’s lifeboats which I include in the ‘Aftermath’ section below.

Robert H. Murphy joined the Texan as Chief Mate in 1940 under Master Robert M. Pierce (who would later survive the American sinking). Murphy also served under Masters Charles T. Gaidsick (Fred’s older brother) and K. Hansen before becoming the Master of Texan himself on April 17th, 1941. Chief Mate Oliver F. Buell had joined the Texan at the same time, initially as 2nd Mate, and his records also show a H. Gries and T.S. McFarland commanded Texan briefly on some coastwise voyages.

 The Attack

The unarmed, unescorted Texan was on her outbound leg from New York City to South America under the command of 39-year-old Master Robert H. Murphy. The Texan was carrying 10,900 tons of general cargo, which contained tin plate, railroad iron, and other “non-buoyant articles”.

Once they approached their operational area they got right to work. On March 5th they sank the New York & Puerto Rican SS Co. steamer Mariana (36 dead, no survivors due to speed of sinking) off The Turks and Caicos Islands.

On March 7th they sank the A.H. Bull & Co. Inc. Steamer Barbara (26 dead, 59 survivors) about nine miles north-northeast of Tortuga Island, Dominican Republic. Just 7 miles away the Lykes Brothers steamer Cardonia (1 dead, 37 survivors) witnessed the attack and Master Gus Darnell did his best to make for shore, but ran out of time. U-126 caught up and sank her with torpedoes and gunfire five miles west-northwest of the St. Nicholas Mole, Haiti.

U-126 entered the Caribbean proper through the Windward Passage. On March 8th the Panamanian Motor Tanker Esso Bolivar (8 dead, 42 survivors), was very fortunate to survive U-126’s gunfire and torpedo 30 miles southeast of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. She was in ballast and not carrying fuel. She eventually returned to service in August.

On March 9th, U-126 provided the following position report: 

“U 126 in Windward Passage - heavy traffic. Traffic proceeding via junctions Cape Maisí and Cape Dumelo close inshore on zigzag course at high speed. Only small escort, no air. Traffic ascertained in DN 50 and 60. Steamers steering course 3100. Boat continuing to operate in DN 70. 1 plus 4 torpedoes, 125 cbm. [33,021.51 gallons of fuel remaining]”

Rather than continuing deeper into the Caribbean, they essentially made a u-turn and worked their way up the western side on the Windward Passage, sinking the Panamanian Motor Tanker Hanseat (0 dead, 39 survivors) 10 miles north-northeast of Cape Maisí, Cuba on March 9th.

They had fired 13 torpedoes at this stage and needed to re-load from their upper deck storage containers which required some time surfaced. They had also been experiencing problems with their port diesel which required repairs. The evening of March 10th they withdrew slightly to the north to re-load the torpedoes, restock the topside ready lockers for the 105mm gun and affect repairs.

At 6:05pm local time on March 11th U-126’s lookouts spotted smoke from Texan’s funnel, position 50°. They estimated her course at 110° and speed at 12 knots. It would be dark soon (sunset began at 6:14pm) and Bauer had his well trained crew prepare for a night surface attack.

Texan was proceeding southeast (Course: 106-109° True) through the Old Bahama Channel on a non-evasive course at 11.8 knots. She was blacked out, observing radio silence, and had two lookouts posted; one on the forecastle head, and one on the bridge.

It was cloudy (8/10’s according to the German’s), and the moon was a 30% waning crescent. The wind and seas were mild, visibility fair.

Bauer had looped around the stern and passed Texan to the north using his superior surface speed. Once sufficiently ahead, U-126 sat motionless, stern to, on Texan’s port beam awaiting her approach. IIWO Möller waited patiently on the open bridge, peering through the UZO (Überwasser Ziel Optik) surface targeting binoculars, quietly calling out speed, distance and angle of attack.

At 8:34pm on March 11th, 1942 at a distance of 500 meters (about 547 yards) Möller gave the command to fire a single G7a torpedo from tube 5 (stern). The variable speed was set to 40 knots, and depth to 3 meters (10 feet, note: 3m was noted in the KTB but 2m was noted on the torpedo report). Neither of Texan’s lookouts spotted the surfaced U-boat or the foamy wake of the air powered torpedo rapidly approaching them. 

According to one account, Murphy was unable to contact the engine room and the wheel was abandoned. According to Chief Mate Buell’s account the engines were stopped by the Chief Engineer, 56-year-old Paul W. Boehncke, about four minutes after getting hit.

Unfortunately, the German’s perceived the maneuvering and radio transmissions as resistance and came about to bring their forward main 105mm canon to bear. When the German’s opened up with their artillery it was really the first indication of where the U-126 was. This was likely the reason the survivors thought it was a submerged attack and that the U-boat surfaced afterwards. This assumption was later stated as fact by Arthur Moore in his book ‘A careless word…A NEEDLESS SINKING’ and subsequently copied by others.

Several of the crew reported seeing light and gun flashes off the starboard bow at about ¾ miles distance about five to eight minutes after getting torpedoed. Four shells were fired within about six minutes.

One shell took the top off the radio shack, ending Oliver’s transmission (he survived), and the other struck the wheelhouse, throwing the captain from the bridge into the water. Here too was much confusion;

According to survivor statements provided to The Evening Independent newspaper, St. Petersburg, FL, Friday, March 29th, 1942: 

“The freighter’s captain, R.H. Murphy of Barnstable, Mass., was knocked overboard by a timber set flying by an exploding shell, and Second Mate Graham Griffiths, Clifton Heights, PA., leaped behind him and supported the skipper all night long with one arm while he clung to a piece of wreckage with the other.”

According to Murphy’s recollection of the events provided to the Seattle Times Newspaper, October 28th, 1945: 

“The German submarine that sank the Texan, after torpedoing our ship, came to the surface and shelled us. One shell struck the bridge, blowing it overboard. I went into the sea with the wreckage. Knocked unconscious by the blast, I remember coming to underwater. I am a powerful swimmer, and soon was on the surface looking for something to cling to until help arrived.”

The other two rounds reportedly passed close but harmlessly by the freighter’s upper works. Deck Engineer, 27-year-old Frank Costello, recalled that the round that struck the wheelhouse caused the steam whistle to sound a blast. He assumed the shell must have hit the whistle cord.

The abandon ship did not go well at all. There was so much confusion, likely due to the stress of the situation and the darkness, and there were many contradictory statements;

Captain Murphy:

“Number 3 boat swung broadside partly because ship still had some way on her.” [would indicate abandon ship was called within 5 minutes or so of torpedoing].

“When the vessel was settling so fast the suction held the boat [Reference to No. 2 boat] into the ship, and the davits that were sticking out from the gunwales flipped the boat over."

April 8th, 1942 - U.S. Navy Memorandum for file, Summary of statements by survivors:

“Two life boats launched but unable to get away, capsized.”

“Boats were lowered away and three became waterborne but were unable to get away from the side of the ship due to the suction of the rapid sinking of the vessel. Two lifeboats were capsized by being caught under the davits.”

“The vessel was fitted with the old fashioned davits that are slacked down on the relieving tackle. Namely the Mallory type. The No. 2 boat, after it became waterborne, was hooked by the davits and capsized. In so far as No. 3 boat is concerned the forward fall was let go and she swung around broadside and capsized.”

Chief Mate Oliver F. Buell’s statement in Miami, FL March 18th, 1942:

“When he saw that the stern was settling, the Captain gave the order to abandon ship.”

Second Assistant Engineer Julian F. Vinson’s statement to The Evening Independent, St. Petersburg, FL, Friday, March 29th, 1942:

“There was no time to put lifeboats over the side.”

Fireman Louis Lincoln’s statement to The Miami Daily News - March 20, 1942:

“Despite lifeboat equipment being faulty, boats could have been gotten away from the ship had the crew gotten orders to lower them. We went to our stations and got the boats ready for lowering and someone called to the bridge for further orders. We were told to stand by and no orders ever came to lower the boats. We didn’t get any of them launched.”

Water Tender Charles Lindner statement to The Miami Daily News - March 20, 1942:

“We stood by awaiting orders but we couldn’t get any boats over. I jumped when we saw she was rolling over beneath us and hung on to a hatch cover.”

Deck Engineer Frank Costello statement to The Miami Daily News - March 20, 1942:

“She was going down a foot a minute. We tried to get one boat launched but we couldn’t swing her in the davits when the ship began listing heavily and I was dragged under with the lifeboat. I figured St. Peter was identifying me, and then I came up and the freighter’s smokestack was directly over me, coming down as the ship rolled on her side. I tried to get away but the suction carried me under again. Then I figured St. Peter was inviting me through the pearly gates, but I came up the second time. The sea was full of oil and I got a few scratches. I finally bumped into a hatch cover and four of us hung on to it.”

Whatever occurred, it’s clear that none of the four lifeboats got clear of the Texan with survivors before she went down. All the men that survived ended up in the water and spent the night clinging to rafts, hatch covers, capsized lifeboats and debris.

Ironically, Möller incorrectly notes Texan’s cargo as “Zucker” or sugar. Perhaps he was aware of her history. They noted her time of sinking as 2:50am Central European Time March 12th which translated to 8:50pm local time March 11th. This matches most of the survivor’s accounts of Texan taking about 16 minutes to sink. 

The U-126 was last seen by the survivors at about 9:30pm local, course unknown. U-126 actually headed in the direction of Nuevitas, Cuba where around midnight they spotted and sank the small American collier Olga (1 dead, 32 survivors).

On March 13th Commander Bauer radioed their position and success report to headquarters:

“Total sinkings - 9 ships, together 52,312 BRT in following positions:

1. Sunk

3/2 Quadrant    DO 12 Norwegian ‟Gunny” [2,362 BRT]

3/5                     DN 56 ‟Marianna” [3,110 BRT]

3/7                     DN 84 Freighter 5,500 BRT [Barbara, 4,637 BRT actual]

3/7                     DN 84 Freighter with Cruiser stern 8,000 [Cardonia, 5,104 BRT actual]

3/8                     DN 79 Esso Bolivar, Tanker [10,389 BRT, damaged]

3/9                     DN 73 Hanseat Tanker [7,932 BRT, 8,241 BRT actual]

3/11                   DN 47 Texan [7,005 BRT]

3/12                   DN 69 ‟Olga” U.S.A. [2,496 BRT]

Later Bauer added “USA "Colabee" 5,518 BRT [damaged].” 

“Sinking of 3 of the ships not observed, but total loss very probable. Calm weather on the whole, medium visibility. Transmitting and receiving conditions very bad inshore. All torpedoes fired, 115 cbm [30,379.79 gallons of fuel remaining]. Homeward bound.”

Adjusting for estimated versus actual tonnage resulted in a total of 48,862 BRT comprised of 7 ships sunk (32,955 tons) and 2 ships damaged (15,907 tons).

Karl Doenitz replied with his congratulations. A few days later on March 16th, 1942 Bauer was awarded his Knights Cross for sinking or damaging over 80,000 tons of allied shipping to date.

U-126 returned to their base in Lorient without incident on March 29th, 1942.

You can zoom in an explore the locations and positions mentioned above in the interactive map below:

 Aftermath

As mentioned previously, the survivors spent the rest of the night clinging to wreckage.

At day break on Thursday, March 12th, lifeboat No. 3 was righted by ten men using the grab rails. They bailed it out and proceeded to row around, picking the remaining survivors out of the water and off a life raft. One of these was Chief Mate Buell, who floated on boards and wreckage till day, then swam for the life raft.

Captain Murphy noted that although the: 

“lifeboat was capsized all night long, when it was righted all equipment was in place with exception of sail. Rations, food and water were sweet and in perfect condition. All equipment in first class shape.”

Later, according to The Miami Daily News - March 20, 1942, when asked if they saw any sharks, Deck Engineer Frank Costello said solemnly: 

“Thousands of ‘em after it got daylight.” 

He thought the oil on the water kept the sharks from attacking them while they were floating around in their life jackets and on the wreckage.

By about noon all the men that could be seen were aboard the lifeboat and they started out for the Cuban coast. Around this same time they sighted two planes both at high altitude and a great distance away.

Late that afternoon, between 4:00 and 6:30 depending on which account you accept, the men became excited when they sighted a US Navy plane (possibly a PBY Catalina) which flew to within 100 feet of the lifeboat several times. The fact that the plane did not land or make any effort to determine whether any crew members were injured and in need of medical attention angered them, and they made sure that went in the final report.

They also expressed dismay that it took so long for the Navy to find them. They felt because of the SOS that was sent and acknowledged, the position of the sinking was generally known.

The most likely reason for this was that the position sent in the SOS was inaccurate. The Coast Guard noted the 

“position as given by Chief Officer was at variance with that of Master and previous radio report. See summary report for compromise position.”

Position received by listening stations: 12 March – Reported torpedoed 21-32N 76-25W 0040Z/12. No further details.

Chief Mate O.F. Buell gave a statement in Miami, FL March 18th, 1942:

Position: 60 miles NE Nuevitas, Cuba 21-43N, 76-21W

Compromise position:

36 miles northeast of Nuevitas Light.

21-34N, 76-28W

Distance from land: 20 miles

Area: 54C

The Navy was actually looking for the men, and the Catalina had directed a US destroyer in the region to pick them up. 

Two brand new Gleaves-class Destroyers, USS Emmons (DD-457) and USS Hambleton (DD-455), were returning from their shakedown cruise which was combined with a good will tour of South American ports.

According to ‘United States Destroyer Operations in World War Two’ by Theodore Roscoe, Naval Institute Press (1953, ISBN-10: 0870217267); 

“While enroute from Cartagena[Columbia] to New York on 10 March, HAMBLETON (Commander F. Close) and EMMONS were diverted to assist in an anti-submarine hunt in the Windward Passage. The only evidence of the submarine was considerable wreckage and several life rafts sighted south of Cape Mousi [sic], Cuba. The ships refueled at Guantanamo, Cuba before continuing on to New York. However, another submarine report sent the destroyer around to the North of Cuba to hunt the submarine and assist the SS TEXAN, which had sent out a distress call. The search planes directed HAMBLETON to a point 15 miles west of the TEXAN's reported position, where 27 survivors were rescued from the SS OLGA.”

“The OLGA had been torpedoed at 0300 that morning, but since her radio was destroyed, had not been able to call for assistance. Further search for the TEXAN was fruitless and HAMBLETON proceeded at high speed for Guantanamo to land survivors.”

In an interesting twist, USS Hambleton and U-126’s IWO Hans-Adolf Schweichel would cross paths one more time, with Hambleton the worse for it. On November 11th, 1942 while lying at anchor off Fedala, Morocco, Hambleton was struck by one torpedo by U-173, then commanded by Schweichel. Hambleton had just supported the Allied landings on North Africa called Operation Torch. Hambleton survived and was towed to shore where a 40 foot section was removed from the center and the vessel spliced back together. She survived the war and received seven battle stars for her service. Schweichel and U-173 were lost with all hands during a series of depth charge attacks by US Destroyers on November 16th off Casablanca.

The survivors spent the rest of the day and that evening bobbing along keeping an eye out for aircraft and vessels. With no sail and that many men crowding the single lifeboat it would have been difficult to row with any efficiency.

As it became dark they periodically fired off a flare. Finally, sometime between 11:00pm and midnight the flares caught the attention of the Cuban fishing boat Yo Yo. By this time they had reportedly drifted about 15 miles WSW from the position of the sinking.

Accounts vary as to whether they were taken aboard the Yo Yo or towed. With that many men it was likely a combination of the two. They arrived in Nuevitas, Cuba about 10:30am Friday, March 13th, 1942. 

The son of Radio Operator Stanley Oliver provided me a copy of an extraordinary newspaper account showing many images of the survivors being received by the Cubans in Nuevitas. These were from the 'Diario de la Marina, la Habana, Martes, 17 de Marzo de 1942, Suplemento Diario en Rotograbado, Actualidad Nacional e Internacional' (Marine Diary, Havana, Tuesday, March 17, 1942, Daily Rotogravure Supplement,  National and International Activities). I've blown up the images and included both the original captions in Spanish as well as my attempts at the English translations:

Casualties included:

1. Boehncke, Paul William, 56, Chief Engineer from Oakland, CA

2. Curiel, Johannes Jozef, 47, Messman from Brooklyn, NY (Curacao Originally)

3. Johnson, Raymond Ethelbert, 51, Oiler from Gloucester, MA

4. Loit, Charles Raymond Jr., 48, 3rd Asst. Engineer from Escondido, CA

5. Maissonett, John Casanova, 36, Messman from San Juan, PR

6. Marland, William, 35, Bosun from Brooklyn, NY

7. McManus, Hugh Francis, 33, Wiper from New York, NY

8. Ryan, Steven John, 41, Steward from New Orleans, LA

9. Wakefield, Homer Clark, 42, Wiper from San Jose, IL

10. Wood, Francis Dudley, 25, 3rd Mate from San Leandro, CA (See profile below)

Boehncke was a German-American who immigrated to the U.S. with his family in 1888 when he was 3. His wife Vida had just passed away the previous October.

Several sources state there were 9 casualties, but I believe this came from the preliminary after action report which stated 9 missing, presumed drowned. This number was carried over in the ‘Merchant Seamen Lost by Vessel’ section of Captain Arthur R. Moore’s "A careless word...A NEEDLESS SINKING", although the correct ten men above were listed. Other sources have repeated this same error of noting 9 but listing 10. Some just note 9 lost.

The total number of crew seems odd to me as well. The Coast Guard Reports state that Texan was carrying a crew of 47, including the Master at the time of her loss. This seems a little high to me. Typically these older, unarmed ships had a little less than 40 men. I have her crew list from the previous intercoastal voyage and they did list 44 men, including the Master.

The list seemed pretty comprehensive:

Master

4 Mates

1 Radioman

6 A.B.

3 O.S.

4 Engineers

6 Oilers

3 Firemen

3 Water Tenders

2 Wipers

7 Service Staff

1 Carpenter

1 Bosun

1 Deck Engineer

1 Maintenance Man

They did not list a purser, and the wipers seem light, so perhaps they did add a few extra men for this foreign voyage. Texan did have the added complexity of two power plants and twin screws.

Originally I was only been able to identify 14 of the Texan's survivors, but in the years since I originally published, I have found 5 more, bringing the total to date to 19:

1. Buell, Oliver F., 49, Chief Mate

2. Christie, Roy S., 25, A.B.

3. Cole, David D., 24, Oiler

4. Costello, Frank, 27, Deck Engineer

5. Elfridge, first name unknown, age unknown, 2nd Cook

6. Griffiths, Graham, 25, 2nd Mate

7. Kahookele, John C., 20, O.S.

8. Kay, John R., age unknown, 1st Asst. Engineer

9. Lincoln, Louis, 28, Fireman

10. Lindholm, Theodore, 31, A.B.

11. Lindner, Charles, 52, Water Tender

12. McKeown, Francis X., 24, Purser

13. Murphy, Robert H., 39, Master

14. Nied, Frederick, age unknown, 4th Mate

15. Oliver, Stanley, 34, Radioman

16. Romero, Axsencio M., 38, Chief Cook

17. Vinson, Julian F., 44, 2nd Asst. Engineer

18. Wallenhaupt, August, 25, Water Tender (assumption)

19. Wychel, Jacob, age unknown, A.B.

Here again, because of the original error on the casualties, the number of survivors is off as well. Some sources state there were 38 survivors. But it is not clear if that was the actual number, or simply from subtracting the incorrect 9 casualties from the total of 47. Or, that there were truly 38 survivors, and with the ten casualties, that would put Texan’s complement at 48.

Unfortunately, the crew list I found from the previous voyage is just that; the two pages that list the 44 crew. The pages that are sometimes included that show which men were discharged and which men sign on at the end of that trip are missing.

From Nuevitas the survivors were later taken to Havana on or about the 15th of March. 

Radioman Stanley Oliver's son Stan also provided two other amazing photographs of the survivors in Havana:

According to The Miami Daily News - March 20, 1942; 52-year-old Water Tender Charles 

“Lindner, as well as the other survivors, said the Cubans treated them royally.

‘Everyone wanted to do something for us,’ he reported. ‘Even the shoe shine boys tried to buy us a beer.’” 

Of the four additional crewmembers, I've been able to find some information on a couple:

Oiler David Douglas Cole was born in Baltimore on October 19th, 1917. His daughter, Alison MacLeod, found the site while searching for some of her Father's shipmates, "Ollie" Buell and "Gray" Griffiths, and was able to provide info on both. Alison recounted: 

"I didn't recall the name of the ship, but what is interesting is that my father and Oliver Buell hung on to the same piece of debris -- keeping each other awake for fear of being left alone during the night -- and survived together.  Later on (and I don't know which ship Mr. Buell was on), my father was serving on another ship and a message came down that another vessel was sending a launch to pick him up!  Having no idea what was going on, imagine my dad's surprise to find that it was Ollie Buell sending for him!  They, of course, spent the evening regaling each other with sea stories.". 

I attempted to help get her father's Merchant Mariner records, but unfortunately these did not yield very much useful information. Alison believed her father was involved in another sinking, but to date neither of us have been able to identify the name of the other ship. Dave Cole had a long career in the Merchant Marine and passed away in Seattle on June 13th, 2005. Dave is included in the two group photos above.

Purser Francis Xavier McKeown was born in Philadelphia on April 8th, 1917, the son of Irish immigrants Patrick McKeown (1878 - unknown) and Mary A. Quigly (1880 - unknown). He was the youngest of six children, his siblings being: Joseph A. (1900-1964), Bernard  (1907-1929), Margaret (1908-unknown), Wallace (1910-unknown) and Clair (1915-unknown). Francis was married to Santa Maria Lopresti (1921-2003) and had at least one child, son Patrick J. (1947-2001). McKeown's time in the Merchant marine was brief and it is possible this was his first and last voyage. He joined the Army on June 23rd, 1942 three month's after the Texan's loss and appears to have served through the remainder of the war. He passed away on February 3rd, 1991. I believe I may have found some family on Ancestry.com and have made some inquiries, but to date have not received a response. Francis is included in the two group photos above.

I could not find much on 1st Assistant Engineer John R. Kay or 4th Mate Frederick Nied other than John was from Oakland and Fred was from San Diego. Both men were referenced in newspaper articles. Kay is included in the two group photos above.

From Havana they were flown to Miami, FL in small groups via Pan American Airways.

I've found that 14 of the survivors were flown to Miami on Pan American DC-3A's'

March 17th, 1942 11:00am flight from Havana, Cuba to Miami. FL, Aircraft NC-33609 (DC-3A), Commander Lothar Boeck included Buell, Costello, Kahookle, Lincoln, Lindholm and Lindner.

March 18th, 1942 10:00am flight from Havana, Cuba to Miami. FL, Aircraft NC-28302 (DC-3A), Commander Wesley Gray included Kay and Vinson.

March 18th, 1942 4:00pm flight from Havana, Cuba to Miami. FL, Aircraft NC-33609 (DC-3A), Commander James B. Magenis included McKeown and Oliver.

March 21st, 1942 11:00am flight from Havana, Cuba to Miami. FL, Aircraft NC-33609 (DC-3A), Commander Lothar Boeck included Griffiths, Murphy, Romero and Wychel.

I was hoping to find the others, or even expand the list of known survivors, but none of the men were singled out as survivors on the passenger lists and Pan Am was flying roughly 200 people a day between Havana and Miami on 4 to 5 flights.

Pan American Airways operated two facilities in Miami during this period; seaplanes flew into the Dinner Key facility, so it's possible some were transported that way, and land based aircraft flew into the 36th Street Terminal at Pan American Field (the 14 noted above). The terminal at the Dinner Key facility is now the Miami City Hall. Pan American Field later became Miami International Airport.

The press was there to greet the survivors, including The Miami Daily News. Chief Mate Buell refused to make a statement.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the newspaper also focused on some criticism the crew expressed about the officers, and in particular Master Murphy. The most vocal and critical of these men was 28-year-old Fireman, Louis Lincoln from Brooklyn, NY. 

Lincoln was one of the men that claimed that the order to abandon ship was never given, which was disputed. He also charged that the blackout was violated 

“by lights shining from open doors of the captain’s quarters and by certain officers smoking on deck.” 

According to the navy report: 

“The Captain and Chief Mate assert strongly that the ship was completely blacked out, but several members of the crew stated that lights were burning in the captain’s cabin.”

We know from Murphy’s family that he did smoke cigarettes, so it is feasible, however the point is moot since the German’s own documentation show that they first sighted the Texan from smoke on the horizon while it was still daylight. Ironically, this was one of the responsibilities of the Firemen to prevent.

Lincoln was also the only survivor that stated “the torpedo struck the freighter slightly aft of amidships and that the craft went down in 12 minutes”, which was much further forward and 4 minutes quicker than all the other accounts.

When Chief Mate Buell was question by the Navy about the crew he stated: 

“Mainly excellent. ‘Best crew in American Merchant Marine; certainly proud of the men.’ 2 or 3 exceptions acted up at consulate, but nothing to cause panic. Lincoln acted up re: food in lifeboat.”

August Wallenhaupt would later gain fame as the sole survivor from another American-Hawaiian loss; the SS Puerto Rican lost a year later on March 9th, 1943. I hope to detail the Puerto Rican’s story at a later date.

According to an article in the July 1944 edition of Reader's Digest titled ‘August Wallenhaupt Captain Of His Fate’ by Carl B. Wall; 

“When August Wallenhaupt awoke he knew what to do, for he had been torpedoed before.” 

I believe the torpedoing Wallenhaupt previously survived was that of the SS Texan. Although no other known sources link Wallenhaupt to the Texan, several do reference a previous sinking. Admittingly, none of the documentation or articles on the Texan’s loss refers to Wallenhaupt either.

Wallenhaupt’s Merchant Mariner career was very brief and there are not a lot of other options. According to the 1940 census, done in his area on April 11th, he was living with his parents in New York and working as a counterman at a restaurant. The crew list I found of Texan’s previous voyage shows that Wallenhaupt signed on as a Wiper on December 24th, 1941 in San Francisco. His length of service to that point was noted as one year. This voyage arrived back in New York on January 31st, 1942. Texan departed on her last voyage March 8th. It is an assumption on my part that Wallenhaupt stayed on with the Texan.

He would have arrived back in the US at the end of March with the others. He is shown signing on to Puerto Rican between her arrival in New York at the end of June and her departure in August. He was not part of Puerto Rican’s crew prior to June when Texan was lost.

In March of 2024 Roy S. Christie's son Brian identified him in the hotel lobby image. Brian noted: "After the sinking, couple of months later, he enlisted in the Army with General Patton's army as a coxswain for the new landing crafts for Patton's assault of Italy.  After that was completed they assigned him to the Pacific theater for the war with Japan [where he earned a Bronze Star].

After the war ended he returned to Boston, Mass. and married and I was born.  My parents settled down in Washington state and my dad retired after 35 years from the Boeing Aircraft Co. as the crew chief of their fire department.  He passed away in 1983."

There was a plan to add Texan's replacement to the fleet after the war in the late 40’s/early 50’s, as a Type C4 class ship. The C4’s were the largest cargo ships built by the U.S. Maritime Commission during World War II. Ironically, the design was originally developed for American-Hawaiian in 1941. They appear to have run out of time, and as the company’s fortunes declined in the mid-50’s, the C4-S-A4 Texan was converted into a tanker and went into service with Oil Transport, Inc. in 1954.

 Robert H. Murphy

A few notable events from his time at the school were: 

Summer Cruise 1923

Ports of call in order: Marblehead, MA; Boston, MA; Horta, Fayal, Azores; Ponta Delgada, Azores; Gibraltar; Syracuse, Sicily; Athens, Greece; Candia, Crete; Alexandria, Egypt; Malta; Gibraltar; Funchal, Madeira; Hampton Roads, VA; Washington, D.C.; Norfolk, VA; Nantucket, MA; Boston, MA.

Unfortunately, there was not a detailed report on the 1923 Summer Cruise, only a summary listing the ports of call above. 

Summer Cruise 1924

Ports of call in order: Washington, D.C.; Norfolk, VA; Ponta Delgada, Azores; Queenstown, Ireland; Falmouth, England; Rouen, France; London, England; Hull, England; Gibraltar; Funchal, Madiera; St. George’s, Bermuda; Provincetown, MA; Boston, MA.

June 2nd to June 5th, 1924 – a series of heavy gales encountered on their eastward voyage across the Atlantic resulted in the jib boom being carried away due to the bow plunging into the sea and two old sails being damaged beyond repair.

June 27th, 1924 – while docked in Falmouth, England the crew saw several old vessels that took part in the Battle of Trafalgar, and the famous “tea clipper” Cutty Sark.

July 30th, 1924 – While docked in Hull, England, the US destroyer USS Dale, Commander W.F. Halsey docked beside them. The commanding officer would become the legendary Admiral William “Bull” Halsey, commander of the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise in the early days of WWII, and who would become instrumental in our destruction of the Japanese naval forces in the Pacific. Nantucket transported a party from the Dale down river to Immigration Creek, to commemorate the time and place the Pilgrim Fathers departed Hull for Holland in 1609.

August 8th, 1924 – Forced to anchor at “Jeramia’s Anchorage” in the lee of Cape Spartel, Morocco for the evening to await a favorable change in the weather.

August 9th, 1924 – A planned stop in Tangier, Morocco, less than ten miles away, was cancelled due to severe weather.

Robert was recruited upon graduation by American-Hawaiian, and first served as a Quartermaster on Missourian under Master C.E. Anderson. It was noted at graduation that positions were filled with American-Hawaiian on Floridian, Pennsylvanian, Kentuckian and Missourian.

During the 1930 Census of Merchant Seamen he was in port in the Bronx, New York serving aboard the recently acquired Williams Steamship Co. vessel Willzipo as Chief Mate before she was renamed Washingtonian.

Later that year he joined American-Hawaiian subsidiary Oceanic and Oriental Navigation Co’s. Golden Hind, which would become the Honolulan. This would be his first foreign cruise since graduating MNS, and his first time to the Orient.

He served on a number of A-H vessels in intercoastal service as 2nd or Chief Mate up to April of 1937 when he became Master of Hawaiian at the age of 35. He likely would have served with our Bernard, who was also on Hawaiian during this same period. There is a gap in his records from then until September of 1940 when he joined Texan as Chief Mate under Master Robert M. Pierce who would later survive the American sinking. He also served under Charles Gaidsick and K. Hansen before becoming Master of the Texan in April of 1941.

The year between then and Texan’s loss were all intercoastal and coastwise voyages. The voyage they were sunk on was to be his first foreign trip since the Golden Hind in 1930-31, and his first voyage to South America. From Robert’s roughly 18 years of intercoastal service he would have been very familiar with the waters around Cuba.

After the Texan’s loss, Murphy soon went right back to sea, this time commanding Coloradan, which as you may know from this website, did not end very well either, being sunk off Cape Town, South Africa on October 9th, 1942. His Third Mate on the Coloradan, James McCollom was pretty impressed with Murphy. In his view Murphy was a very capable Captain, tough as nails, and not afraid to discipline any unruly crewmembers even with his fists if he had to. He didn’t make it back to Boston until January 2nd, 1943, which was aboard the British Union-Castle liner Capetown Castle, which had made a previous stop in Halifax, NS on December 31st, 1942.

A few months after Coloradan, Murphy was back at it again, this time as Master of the new Liberty Ship John Steele from the middle of 1943 into 1945, mainly transporting supplies between New York and the Mediterranean. During this time he commanded the John Steele during the Normandy invasion in June of 1944, being part of the lead convoy and making several trips between Normandy and England to ferry men and materials as the battle progressed. In an interesting coincidence, “John Steele” was also the name of the 82nd Airborne Division paratrooper that was caught on the church steeple when the unit dropped on the French village of Ste-Mère-Église during the invasion, an event made famous by actor Red Buttons in the epic movie “The Longest Day’. The vessel was obviously named after another “John Steele”, though it is not clear which one. There were a number of prominent politicians and businessmen by that name.

Below is a list of voyages that I was able to locate:

Soon after the war, on October 28th, 1945, Murphy was interviewed by the Seattle Times Newspaper while taking on cargo; 

“Capt. R.H. (Lucky) Murphy, veteran American-Hawaiian Line skipper, yesterday was back in intercoastal trade as master of the freighter Baylor Victory, after experiences in the war that were stranger than fiction. The Baylor Victory is the first intercoastal ship to sail from Seattle since Pearl Harbor. The vessel is operated by the War Shipping Administration with the American-Hawaiian Company as general agent.”

“Captain Murphy was master of two American-Hawaiian ships when they were sunk during the war – the Texan in the Caribbean and the Coloradan 600 miles from Cape Town, South Africa.’

“I guess they call me ‘Lucky’ because of my experience during the sinking of the Texan on March 15 [sic], 1942.” Said Captain Murphy in his cabin aboard the Baylor Victory, which was loading flour, canned salmon and other freight for New York, Philadelphia and Boston at the Ames Terminal.”

The article ends with; 

“We’ll not have to worry about submarines this trip,” said Captain Murphy as he prepared to sail from Seattle for Portland, San Francisco and Los Angeles to complete his Pacific Coast cargo for North Atlantic ports.”

As noted he also served on the Liberty Ship replacements for the Arkansan and American in the early 1950’s.

While searching for info on Colman Raphael (Washingtonian), I stumbled upon some documentation stating Murphy became Captain of the American in May of 1952, and left in December 1952 due to illness. There was some legal investigation that took place in 1956 to determine whether the vessel itself may have been the cause of his illness.

At first, I suspected some connection to mesothelioma, since the horrible legacy of asbestos exposure started in World War II when that substance was first used as an insulating material on the newly built Liberty, Victory and C-Type’s.

His family was able to confirm that Robert did have some serious health issues, though these were probably related to his heavy smoking, three to five packs a day, which he had to give up in the 1950’s when he contracted tuberculosis (TB). This was most likely the reason for the above mentioned investigation.

Peter stated:

“[Robert and his brother Richard] were both quite congenial people, though Robert definitely held strong positions on many issues and sometimes spoke to them with force and conviction in casual conversation. I can easily believe that in his prime he would have had a very imposing personality.” 

“I remember that Robert drove a big, sea green, Lincoln Continental [in the late 60’s]. Peggy was glad of that as his abilities on the road declined with his health, reasoning that he would thereby likely not be badly hurt if he had an accident. (Never mind the damage that that massive car would do to whatever it hit.) She knew that he was not going to be persuaded [easily] to give up driving, nor living in his own house.”

“His house itself [still standing], befitted a sea captain. It is quite old; built in 1642, it’s the 5th oldest house in Barnstable. It was moved 1/2 mile from its original site where it was part of the Bacon Farm. It is in an historic district that has been home to many sea captains for centuries. I've always said that walking across the floor in his house was like walking across the ocean because it was so undulating--inches of height difference in just a couple of feet in some places.”

 Stanley H. Oliver

Stanley’s first interest was in radios, and according to his son he built crystal radios as a kid. It is believed that this lead to a job aboard ships sailing the nearby Great Lakes (less than five miles from home), which in turn led to Ocean-going vessels.

Not much is known about his early career. The first crew list I could find him on was the Buckeye Steamship Company’s A.D. MacBeth in 1929 when he was 22 years old. The MacBeth was an old Laker, launched as Polynesia in 1897 by Globe Iron Works in Cleveland, OH. She was a classic Laker design with her high bridge at the bow, engine room/stack aft, and cargo amidships. She was registered as 3640 gross tons. In 1923 she was renamed A.D MacBeth and was eventually scrapped in Hamilton, Ontario in 1941, her steel likely going towards the war effort.

Stanley served briefly on the Socony Vacuum Oil Co. tanker Ario in 1936. The Ario would later be sunk by U-158 (Rostin) off Cape Lookout, North Carolina on March 15th, 1942, coincidentally three days after the Texan’s loss. See here for more information.

Starting in 1937 he served as Radio Operator on the New York & Cuba Mail Steam Ship Co. passenger liner Orizaba. He spent at least two years with the line and so had plenty of experience in Caribbean and especially Cuban waters. It is unclear how long Stanley stayed on the Orizaba. Crew lists on Ancestry.com indicate he served at least through June of 1939.

The Orizaba had a long and interesting story. See here for more information. According to Wikipedia 

“In mid-1939, Orizaba was chartered to United States Lines as one of five ships added to increase what was perceived as a slow rate of return of US citizens fleeing war-torn Europe. In September, the ship was diverted to Galway to pick up American survivors of SS Athenia, torpedoed by U-30 on 3 September; Orizaba returned with 240 of the survivors later that month. After completing evacuation service, the ship was laid up in New York in the summer of 1940, and subsequently purchased by the Maritime Commission on behalf of the Army on 27 February 1941.”

Stanley joined American-Hawaiian on the Texan on Christmas Eve, 1941 in San Francisco. The old freighter was quite a departure from the ships he had recently sailed on.

 Oliver F. Buell

Oliver Francis Buell passed away in Cotter, AR on June 28th, 1967 at the age of 75. His wife Hilda preceded him in January of 1965. I could find no information on whether they had any children. His brother John had six sons and two daughters and his brother George had two sons. All of that generation has since passed as well, but perhaps one of their descendants will find the site one day and be able to shed a little more light on Buell’s life and career.

 Graham Griffiths

See new and expanded biography on Graham Griffiths on William L. Marcy Page.

 Francis D. Wood

Their next voyage left sometime after November 8th, 1934 and lasted until February 28th, 1935. Earl Manning (of the Alaskan and Cape San Juan) served as Third Officer on this voyage. Francis signed on again in July and is shown arriving in Honolulu on November 3rd, 1935 (also with Manning).

According to newspaper accounts, this places him on the Golden Mountain during a diplomatic incident that occurred on August 22nd, 1935. The vessel was in Japanese waters and had strayed into the Bungo Strait between the islands of Kyushu and Shikoku in what was described as a “forbidden fortified zone”. The Japanese sent a military launch to see if they were in distress and observed two crew taking pictures of the shore, identified as “Phillip Maas and William Felix”. When the launch returned to shore for further instructions, the Golden Mountain sailed away, despite being told to stay put. This resulted in a full-blown alert by the Japanese military and a search by their navy and aircraft. The ship was quickly detained and the crew questioned. I was able to locate the crew list for this voyage, but oddly neither Maas’ or Felix’s name were included.

The Golden Mountain was originally launched as Bearport in 1920 by G.M. Standifer Construction Company, Vancouver, WA. She was one of the popular EFC 1015 designs, one of 84 built in total, and one of 15 at this particular yard. She was built right next to Pawlet, which eventually became the Ohioan. Oceanic & Oriental bought her in 1927 and re-named her Golden Mountain. After the joint venture ended in 1938, Matson took her over and re-named her Olopana. Olopana was sunk by U-255 (Reche) on July 8th, 1942 after dispersing from the infamous convoy PQ-17.

On April 1st, 1937, Francis signed on to the Oceanic & Oriental Navigation Company’s Golden Dragon in San Francisco under Master Christian H. Bruun as a Cadet. They returned to San Francisco from the Orient on July 10th, 1937.

The Golden Dragon was originally launched as West Chopaka in 1921 by Los Angeles Shipbuilding Company. She was one of the unique EFC 1133 designs, one of only 5 built in total, and the sister of the Honolulan. Oceanic & Oriental bought her in 1927 and re-named her Golden Dragon. After the joint venture ended in 1938, Matson took her over and re-named her Mahimahi. She actually survived the war and in 1948 was renamed Mongibello by Italian firm Unione, then in 1949 renamed Polifemo by the same owner. She was eventually broken-up in Osaka, Japan in 1959, the last of her type.

As a notification about his death mentions he was a graduate of the California Maritime Academy, and there were no sailings listed for the next three years, I believe the gap between arriving back to California on the Golden Dragon in the summer of 1937 and joining the Honolulan as a junior officer in 1940 (see below) is when he attended the school.

Francis joined American-Hawaiian’s Honolulan as a 4th Mate on March 8th, 1940 in San Francisco under Master Murvin E. Shigley. Edwin E. Greenlaw (later of the Alaskan) was Chief Mate and Larz D. Neilson (later of the Coloradan) was Second Mate.

This was a very interesting voyage to the Persian Gulf that I describe on the Honolulan page during which they delivered a special passenger named Ali to southern Iraq.

When I saw that he sailed with Larz, I checked with his son, Larz F. Neilson, and he was kind enough to search through his father’s large collection of photographs and found the following three images which appear to have been taken on their stop in Hawaii in June of 1940:

He signed on with the Honolulan again on August 18th, 1940 in New York, with the same officers. That voyage made stops in the Philippines, Singapore and Rangoon, Burma before returning to Honolulu Hawaii on December 19th, 1940. They were expecting to sail to Boston next.

They arrived in New York, Pier 29, Brooklyn from Boston on January 22nd, 1941 and were expected to sail to Bombay, India on February 21st. At this point Master Shigley was replaced by Edgar “Red” Sutton, Chief Mate Greenlaw was replaced by Gardner Coas and Harold Johnson replaced Larz Neilson as Second Mate. Greenlaw had left to become Master of the Arizonan.

Francis signed on for this next voyage on February 17th, 1941. After arriving in Bombay in April, they stopped at Surabaya, Java before returning to Hawaii in June of 1941.He likely made one more voyage to the Far East the latter half of 1941.

On Christmas Eve, 1941, just weeks after the attack on Pearl Harbor, he signed on again, this time with the Texan in San Francisco. They passed through the Panama Canal on January 22nd and arrived in New York on January 31st, 1942.

As noted elsewhere in this story, Texan departed New York on March 8th, and was sunk on the 11th. There are no specifics concerning Francis’ loss and it is assumed he drowned during or soon after the Texan was abandoned the evening of March 11th/12th.

Hopefully one day his family will find the website and tell us more about him.

 U-126 and Ernst Bauer

I have already released what I could about U-126 and Ernst Bauer per my informal agreement with Ken Dunn. This information can be found throughout ‘The Attack’ and 'U-126' pages of the main SS Arkansan website, the latter added in 2023.

 Günther Möller

When I decided to create this page on the Texan I thought I would give it another shot. In the intervening years the ubootwaffe.net site went away, but much of the crew list information on that site had come from a gentleman named Hubertus Weggelaar who had moved his database to the new Historisches MarineArchiv website. The uboat.net site was still going strong as well and getting better and better every year.

As I revisited my old list of eight candidates, one name kept coming to the top; Günther Möller. Everything just lined up. I knew the Möller I had been searching for was the rank of Leutnant zur See when he was IIWO (Second Watch Officer) on U-126’s third war patrol based on the torpedo reports. U-126 had returned from that patrol on March 29th, 1942 and Möller did not appear to be on the fourth patrol. Usually when a young watch officer left a crew it meant a promotion and moving on to commander training. It just so happened that Günther Möller, although not listed as ever serving on U-126, was promoted to Oberleutnant zur See on April 1st, 1942 and began his commander training soon thereafter. None of the other Möller’s matched this timing.

I thought I had it. Then my hopes were dashed when I searched the current databases and found that Günther Möller was listed as serving as a Watch Officer on the U-989 during the approximate period he should have been on the U-126, February 1941 to May 1942. Damn, back to the drawing board.

I let that settle in for a few days, but it just didn’t smell right. Then it occurred to me that 989 was an awfully high number in the series for that early in the war. Sure enough, U-989 wasn’t even laid down until October of 1942 and commissioned until July of 1943. I reached out to a few contacts to see if I could verify the Möller/U-989 connection, to no avail.

I finally resorted to trying my luck on the MarineArchiv user forum. Thankfully, Dr. Axel Niestlé, a renowned expert on U-boat warfare, saw the post and was able to solve the mystery. As he stated; 

“this problem can be solved in a very simple way. Möller was allocated to U 126 even before commissioning. At that time his new command was designated by the building number at the yard (W 989 [Werk 989]), which was also recorded in his personal record. Sometime later the hand-written phrase therein was mistaken as "U 989".” At last, I finally had something concrete to link Günther Möller with the U-126. All this time it had been a simple transposition of a “U” for a “W”.

Next, Fernando Almeida, a specialist in U-Boat personnel records, was able to piece together a more complete picture of Günther Möller’s military career;

Günther Möller joined the German Navy on October 9th, 1937 at the age of 19. This was the second entry of cadets for 1937, and was known as Crew 37b. Of the 436 cadets that made up Crew 37b, 109 would go on to command a U-Boat, and of those, 51 would not survive the war.

Soon after graduating from the Naval Academy, he volunteered and was accepted into the Ubootwaffe and began the usual process of specialized training to become a U-Boat officer;

April 29th, 1940 to June 2nd, 1940 - attended the Torpedo Training Course at the Torpedo School (U.T.O-Lehrgang Torpedoschule) in Flensburg-Mürwik, northern Germany.

June 3rd, 1940 to June 30th, 1940 - attended the Communications Training Course in Naval Signals School (U.W.O-Lehrgang Marinenachrichtenschule), also in Flensburg-Mürwik.

July 1st, 1940 to July 28th, 1940 - attended Artillery Training at Naval Artillery School (U.W.O-Artillerielehrgang Schiffsartillerieschule) in Kiel-Wik, Germany.

July 29th, 1940 to November 6th, 1940 – attended U-Boat Training Course in 1st U-boat Training Division (U.W.O-Lehrgang 1. U.L.D.) in Pillau (formerly part of East Prussia, Germany, now known as Baltiysk in the Russian area known as the Kaliningrad Oblast).

November 7th, 1940 to December 1940 - was attached to the 24th U-Boat Flotilla (Training) in Memel (formerly part of East Prussia, Germany, now known as Klaipėda, Lithuania).

From December 1940 to February 1941 he was attached to the Headquarters Commander of the U-Boats (B.d.U. - Karl Doenitz’s staff) in Kerneval-Lorient, occupied France.

Finally, in February 1941 Möller was transferred to the A.G. Weser shipyard in Bremen, Germany to take part in what the Germans called “Baubelehrung” or U-boat familiarization for the final stage of construction in the shipyard for U-126. The large Type IXC U-126 had been launched on December 31st, 1940, and the familiarization ran until the U-126 was formally commissioned under the command of Ernst Bauer on March 22nd, 1941.

Bauer, with his IWO, Kurt Neubert and IIWO Möller were first assigned to the 2nd U-Boat Flotilla (2. U-Flottille) in Wilhelmshaven, Germany for their final phase of training before heading to the front, which took a little over three months.

U-126 departed Kiel, Germany on July 5th, 1941 for their first war patrol and to join the Flotilla which was being moved to Lorient, occupied France. It was a successful patrol and U-126 sank four vessels for 5,400 tons and damaged a fifth (8,293tons). A portent of things to come. Most of the attacks were surfaced torpedo attacks where Neubert acted as Torpedo Officer (T.O.), but Möller, as IIWO was likely the gunnery officer on the artillery attack on the small British fishing schooner Robert Max on August 8th, 1941.

For their second war patrol Möller and U-126 departed Lorient on September 24th, 1941 to operate off the west coast of Africa. It is most likely that when they were on this patrol the photos on uboat.net of their crossing the line ceremony were taken. Möller is probably in some of those photos, though it is difficult to tell with the costumes.

They sank five vessels totaling 24,316 tons, with IIWO Möller as T.O. on the surface attack on the British motor merchant Peru on November 13th, 1941.

Despite this success, the major event of this patrol was the sinking of the very successful German Armed Merchant Cruiser Atlantis. The resulting rescue operation became one of the most remarkable of the war, with U-126 taking on board 107 survivors and towing another 200 in lifeboats for two days until additional help could arrive.

U-126 finally arrived back in Lorient from their second patrol on December 13th, 1941 after eighty-one days at sea, and now officially at war with America.

Upon their return, Kurt Neubert was transferred off the U-126, and rather than moving IIWO Möller up to the IWO position, Hans-Adolf Schweichel, who would later be the T.O. during the Arkansan attack on patrol four, joined as IWO.

On October 13th U-Boat Command became aware of a large convoy, which they designated Convoy No. 45. B.d.U. noted in his KTB; 

“It is intended to intercept Convoy No. 45, which, according to Radio Intelligence (X) is to be in AM 5166 at 1300/11/10[55°57'00"N, 010°05'00"W at 1:00pm CET on October 11th] and in AM 1949 at 1300/12/10 [56°45'00"N, 015°12'00"W at 1:00pm CET on October 12th], with the following disposition: 2 more boats, coming from home ports, which made their passage reports last night, have joined the 12 already available. Order: U 844 - 964 - 470 - 631 - 437 - 309 - 762 - 231 - 91 - 488 - 455 - 267 - 413 - 608 will form Group "Schlieffen" and be in patrol line from AK 2877 to AK 6754 at 0000/16/10 [57°21'00"N, 031°48'00"W to 54°09'00"N, 030°25'00"W at Midnight on October 16th]. Boats are to approach their positions in the line unnoticed, i.e. submerged by day and at high cruising speed by night. A loss of speed of 2.5 knots is probable owing to the bad weather conditions, which are likely to be S.W. 6 - 8 during the period 11 - 14.10 [October 11th to the 14th] according to various reports. The convoy may therefore be expected to reach the patrol line after AM 16.10 [morning October 16th].

The line is so disposed that the stragglers' rendezvous in AK 6516 is covered 60 miles to the south.

The 2 boats fitted with intermediate wave D/F gear [Direction Finding gear], U 621 and 413, are stationed in the northern and southern sector of the line so that any evasion of the line will be recognized in time.”

On October 15th, U-844 made contact with the convoy’s escort screen, which B.d.U. reported as follows: 

“Convoy No. 45: U 844 sighted a destroyer at 2117 in AL 1689. At 2147 this boat reported a W-bound convoy, speed up to 8 knots, in AL 1822. U 844 was ordered to do her utmost to shadow. Boats in the vicinity, U 841, 281, 426, 842, 540, 964 were to operate against the convoy. Group "Schlieffen" was not yet ordered to take action as it seemed very unlikely that U 844 could shadow as long as that. The patrol line was ordered to be in position from AK 2477 to AK 6117 by 2200/16/10. Towards 2400 U 844 was forced to dive by escort vessels and was hunted with depth charges for 3 hours. After surfacing again, she reported the convoy's last position as AL 8141, course 270. The convoy was not sighted again by morning. U 841 had reported that she was operating against it.

Weather conditions improved considerably during the last 24 hours and can be regarded as favorable - SW 4 and moderate visibility.

It is not possible to say yet whether this is the expected ONS 20 or ON 220. As the westerly gale of the last few days must have delayed both convoys and the speed reported is still below 8 knots, it should be ONS 20. Also, the last position reported by U 844 is only 25 miles north of the route given in the Radio Intelligence (X) report (convoy was to steer 290 from the rendezvous in AL 2955). U 844 has been ordered to report the exact time of the last position and the reliability of her own fix.

Group "Schlieffen" was ordered at 1126 to be in patrol line from AK 2897 to AK 6817 at 0000/17/10 in the new order: U 844 - 964 - 631 - 470 - 437 - 309 - 762 - 231 - 91 - 448 - 267 - 413 - 608.”

The following day, October 16th, 1943 B.d.U. reported: 

"Convoy No. 45.: After moderate Westerly weather conditions on 16.10. during the night of the 17.10. it was reported temporarily WNW 1. On the morning of the 17.10. a boat reported NW 5 again, visibility 3 nm.

U 426 sighted the convoy in the evening at 2005. Boat reported contact continuously until 2248 from AK 3739. It torpedoed a 6,000 GRT ship in this position only to be forced off by destroyers afterwards. The next contact keeping report by U 309 did not come until morning (0545) from AK 3558. This position lies far to the northwest but seems to be correct from cross-fixing. At 0836 a destroyer was reported by U 437 from AK 3551. No further reports about the convoy were received.

By cross-fixing no clear speed or course of enemy can be determined apparently due to big differences in boat's positions. For example, both U 631 and U 540 reported star shells although the boats were 145 nm apart when the reports came in.

Afternoon on 16.10. strong air patrol was beginning to take place around the convoy. 4 boats reported being attacked by airplanes, U 964 reported being attacked for the first time by airplane at 1739. At 1958 the same the boat reported war emergency: Attacked by bombs, boat seriously damaged, sinking, can remain afloat for short time only. Boats were ordered, if not further away than 60 nm, to operate on U 964. At 2335 U 232 reported it had taken on board four survivors of U 964, further search inconclusive.

Group “Schliefen” was ordered to take position ahead of the convoy from U 426's report received at 2000. This patrol line was relocated northward after confirming the shift to the northwest by 11 boats from AK 3519 to AK 3779. After the convoy-report came in at 0600 in the morning the entire group was ordered on the convoy.

After U 964 sank and U 631 was probably returning to port after operating on the convoy, a total of 16 boats are now operating on the convoy. These are U 844 - 470 - 437 - 308 - 762 - 231 - 91 - 448 - 267 - 413 - 603 - 841 - 426 - 540 - 271 and 842.

According to a Radio Intelligence (X) report at 1225 on 16.10. stragglers of ONS 20, located east of 30° west, were ordered to head for Reykjavik. In addition a corrected route for stragglers was now given to go from AK 3177 to AK 1131. The shift towards north west corresponds with the general course of convoy.

The operation on ONS 20 is to be continued.”

B.d.U.’s report for October 17th was not quite as optimistic: 

“Convoy No. 45.: On the morning of 17.10. typical westerly weather conditions, freshening towards evening NW 6, sea state 5, varying visibility.

Received no proper contact keeper reports on the convoy. Destroyer reported in AK 3551 by U 437 at 0536 on 17.10. U 91 reports at 1000 from AK 2664 broad sound bearings from 170 – 250°. U 413, having radio direction finding equipment on board, reports three bearings during the day indicating convoy is heading on a more northwesterly course, but these bearings might also refer to search groups that were detached.

Numerous reports about air attacks were received on 17.10 . Altogether 9 boats reported 14 air attacks. U 448 had to move off for repairs, because the boat was attacked heavily twice, one dead two seriously injured. U 281 also reports two men slightly injured.

The many reports about air attacks in the area of AK 2480 and 2490 during the day on 17.10. indicate the northwesterly course of convoy. Three bearings on convoy radio traffic also point to the northwest.

On the other hand, sound bearings reported by U 91 indicate the convoy is changing of course. Additionally, a Radio Intelligence (X) report on the morning of 17.10. at 1104 indicates the stragglers route of the convoy was changed presumably towards the south west. Sadly theses reports were not received until the morning of 18.10. at 0900. Accordingly it seems to confirm that the convoy has drifted towards southwest in approximately in AK 2660. Retroactively it must be assumed convoy took an evasive route towards the west-southwest after the boats were located by air close to the northwest course of enemy.

Because it was still unclear in which direction the convoy would go in the night of 18.10. after the boats had operated before on northwest opponent's courses, the order given to continue searching in both directions, to the northwest as well as to the west and southwest.

U 309 reports having fired a salvo of four. Two detonations reported after 13 minutes. Headquarters reckons one ship being torpedoed.

At night the positions of all boats was requested. It cannot be established up to now, how many boats are missing. See also KTB for 18.10.”

Finally, on October 18th B.d.U conceded defeat: 

“Convoy No. 45.: No further messages are received concerning the convoy. Therefore, there is little prospect that the convoy will be detected again. Furthermore, the boats are widely dispersed after the search, and are positioned so unfavorably that on detection an operation would no longer have been possible. Therefore, at noon on 18.10. boats are ordered to cease operations.

Only in the evening at 1800 a report by U 309 is received, that the boat has been passed over by several ships in the morning of 18.10. from 0300 till 0400. After plotting these ships might have belonged to said convoy. Also     U 608 reports at night, at 2000 location of the convoy in AK 0115. It reports strong night air coverage, being forced under water for three consecutive hours.

Ship torpedoed by U 426 on 16.10. has sunk according to a report from U 842 after having sighted her lifeboats.”

B.d.U. realized relatively quickly that U-844 has been lost with several other boats. On October 19th he issued the following report: 

“Final observations on Convoy No. 45: The operation on the convoy from 16. - 18.10. was carried out by 17 boats, resulted in the sinking of one and the torpedoing of two other ships, 6 boats were lost in the operation: (U 964 - 540 - 841 - 470 - 631 - 844).

The convoy was reported for the last time on 17.10. in the morning and a patrol line was then established, which did not succeed in regaining contact. It was determined later that during 17.10. the convoy had made a strong evasive movement to the southwest under the cover of strong air escort (altogether 16 air attacks were reported during the day on 17.10. all on a continuation of the previous convoy course). The boats were prevented from searching by the continuous presence of aircraft, while the convoy made off to the southwest.

Only a single destroyer sighting during the whole operation, only 4 depth charge attacks 3 of which were conducted by escort vessels at the convoy prove that the remote escort of this convoy was hardly skirted. The particularly numerous aircraft had taken over the task of the remote escort.

Because no remote escort vessels were actually reported, it must be accepted that the majority of boats were lost to aircraft. Whether the boats were bombed on the surface or when diving, cannot be determined, because the order was not given to remain on the surface for anti-aircraft defense.

Anyway, the issue of strengthening firepower becomes even more urgent and is the primary requirement for the convoy battles of the future.

In contrast to the success of the "Leuthen" convoy, this operation was a failure with the unacceptable loss of 6 boats. In the next convoy operation we will attempt a tighter deployment by quicker arrival of the boats thereby splitting the defense.

At the appearance too stronger enemy aircraft we will attempt to avoid too high losses by timely cessation of operations, until the boats are capable of resisting enemy aircraft better by reinforced anti-aircraft armament (3.7 cm).”

For the six U-Boats they lost;

1. U-470 (VIIC, 1st patrol - 46 dead, 2 survivors),

2. U-540 (IXC/40, 1st patrol – 55 dead, all hands lost),

3. U-631 (VIIC, 3rd patrol - 54 dead, all hands lost),

4. U-841 (IXC/40, 1st patrol – 27 dead, 27 survivors),

5. U-844 (IXC/40, 1st patrol – 53 dead, all hands lost),

6. U-964 (VIIC, 1st patrol – 47 dead, 3 survivors),

The Germans could only count the British merchant Essex Lance (all 52 crew survived), a straggler from ONS 20 sunk by U-426 as a success.

While B.d.U. could only assume Möller and his crew’s fate aboard the U-844, the British Coastal Command Bomber crews responsible for their demise documented it in graphic detail. This account shows that to the best of their ability, Möller and his crew went down swinging. In an extract from ‘Autumn of the U-Boats’ by Geoffrey Patrick Jones (1984, William Kimber, Limited, Publisher, ISBN 0718305345, 9780718305345) it states:

“As air escort Flt/Lt. E. Bland was flying Liberator ‘L’ of 86 squadron [Consolidated B-24 Liberator FL952 flown by Flight Lieutenant E. Bland of RAF Coastal Command No. 86 Squadron], he sighted a Type IXC U-boat when flying at 2500ft. This was U-844, a new boat under the command of Oberleutnant G. Möller. The U-boat was on the surface eight miles away making a speed of 8 knots, fifteen miles south of the convoy.

The aircraft made straight for the U-boat which opened fire at some 2000 yards range. The Liberator took switch back action, but at 100 yards range, the two port engines were hit. During the next few seconds there were repeated hits on the port side of the fuselage, & the flak was intense & accurate. The aircraft continued its run, attacking from the starboard beam, & attempted to release four depth charges from 50 ft. The U-boat was still on the surface, but the depth charges failed to release. The Liberator turned to port & circled the U-boat at 1500 yards range while the crew assessed the damage. The port inner engine was feathered & the port outer had been badly hit though it still ran at half power. The Senior Naval Officer was informed & began homing HMS Duncan (destroyer) to the vicinity of U-844. After ten minutes of homing, another Liberator was seen. This was ‘S’ of 59 Squadron flown by P/O W.J. Thomas [aircraft FL984, a Mk. V, flown by Pilot Officer W.J. Thomas]. The crew had sighted the surfaced U-boat when 10 miles away. The other Liberator (‘L’) was then seen circling the U-boat. Flying at 4000 ft, “S” turned towards the U-boat & when he was 2 miles away, P/O Thomas decided to attack at once as the enemy gunners seemed to be concentrating on the other aircraft. He put the aircraft into a steep dive but realized he could not possibly get down in time. Steep turns, first to starboard & then to port put him in an attacking position & he ran in from the enemy’s port quarter. Using the low level bomb sight, four depth charges spaced at 45ft. were dropped at 70 feet. During the approach the U-boat put up intense flak & hit the aircraft’s starboard inner engine when it was still 300 yards away. Two depth charges exploded on each side of the U-boat forward of the conning tower & the vessel was completely hidden in spray.

"The Liberator turned steeply to starboard to get into position for another attack, when the pilot was told that the engine was on fire. Meanwhile the U-boat began to submerge & only the conning tower & stern could be seen. Continuing his turn, the pilot saw a deep red flame shooting out of the conning tower. He went in again & dropped four more depth charges 300 yards ahead of the swirl, half a minute after the U-boat had disappeared. It was seen that the swirl was brownish in colour [which would seem to indicate a rupture of U-844 fuel tanks]. The Liberator then climbed away & the damaged engine was feathered. While trying to assess the damage to his aircraft, the pilot received a radio message asking him to circle the position. Deciding his aircraft was in no immediate danger he remained on the scene until the destroyer arrived. HMS Duncan arrived & dropped a pattern of depth charges on the estimated diving position as it was not then known that the U-boat had been sunk.

“L” of 86 Squadron [first Liberator] ditched near the convoy & were picked up by HMS Pink (Corvette). 2 did not survive.”

Möller and most of his crew were likely all killed instantly when the U-844 exploded and sank in the North Atlantic, South-West of Iceland, in position 58°30´ N x 27°16´ W.