9 August 2012
70th Anniversary of the loss of HMAS Canberra
70 years ago today, at about 1.43 in the morning, 20 year old Seaman Henry Hall was at his station in the collector, an observation post midway up HMAS CANBERRA’s mast.
The Royal Australian Navy's heavy cruiser CANBERRA along with AUSTRALIA and HOBART, were part of the screening force covering the American landing on Guadalcanal that had begun two days earlier.
As Commander Turner has mentioned, in terms of grand strategy, the objective of Operation Watchtower was to capture a Japanese airfield being built on Guadalcanal to ensure the vital USA-Australia supply lines would remain open. The Japanese had assembled a striking force at Rabaul and sailed towards Guadalcanal with the intention of causing maximum disruption and damage to the allied landings.
But for the young sailors and officers at their stations that night, there was little thought of grand strategy. Most were exhausted, having been on constant alert for the previous two days and nights, and subjected to frequent aerial bombardment.
Savo Island was cloaked in rain, mist hung in the air. It was a moonless night and visibility was alternating between 10 miles and 100 yards.
Unbeknown to 891 crew of CANBERRA, the Japanese strike force had slipped around the southern side of Savo Island in a single column, four and a half miles long, moving at a speed of 24 knots.
Henry described what happened next as “hell on earth…The first thing I knew was that we got lit up (by flares)…The bloke standing next to me dropped; a piece of shrapnel through his head…there were fires all over the place; the four-inch deck gun crew just disappeared (from the explosions) and there was thunder and lightning.”
A Japanese float plane had dropped a parachute flare, silhouetting the CANBERRA and USS CHICAGO. The Japanese flagship launched torpedoes and three cruisers opened fire on the CANBERRA at close range. Within moments she had been struck by at least 24 shells, her engines knocked out, all power lost and communications disabled.
The pride of the Australian squadron - and at various times our flagship - was dead in the water, on fire amidships and listing heavily.
In the sickbay, CANBERRA’s Commander Surgeon, Charles Downward described the situation:
“All parties had been constantly closed up at their stations for three days. Within five minutes of the alarm sounding, there was a loud explosion in the sick bay flat, followed by screams of the wounded. Almost immediately, the first casualty appeared with his left arm shot away…when the lights failed and all waters supplies were cut off…Very quickly the ship listed to starboard, and the sickbay became untenable owing to heat from fires. From then on it became necessary for first aid parties to work at their own initiative, and work as independent units…The wounded were moved to the forecastle where they lay for about three hours in the pouring rain. Coats and blankets were procured to cover them as well as was possible. At the end of that time, the USS PATTERSON came alongside, and many of the wounded were transferred to her.”
The CANBERRA’s Captain, Frank Getting, lay mortally wounded and 74 of the 819 had been killed.
Among them was Petty Officer Stoker Redmond Boyle, husband of Eileen, whose sons, Edward and Peter, are with us today. Also killed was Petty Officer Stoker Alfred James Connors (husband of Eve and father of Beverley and Maree). PO Connors was the reigning Navy boxing champion, and his niece, Julie Webb is also with us today.
A further 10 would later die of their wounds.
In the space of barely 40 minutes, the Japanese had crippled and put out of action four allied capital ships, killing and wounding over a thousand personnel in them.
As the battle ended, USS Quincy was on the point of sinking, followed by Vincennes which finally capsized at 2.50. CANBERRA had been left a burning, drifting and listing hulk. The CANBERRA could not be saved, and she was abandoned and sunk at 8 a.m. by allied vessels before they withdrew from the area. Astoria was - like CANBERRA - stopped and on fire, and, despite hopes that she could be salvaged, she went down at midday on 9 August.
Today we pause to contemplate this loss.
As Historian Geoffrey Blainey said, “How can you measure the real cost to Australia of all those talented people who would have become Prime Ministers and premiers, clergy men, engineers, teachers, doctors, poets, inventors and farmers, the mayors of towns and the leaders of trade unions and the fathers of another generation of Australians”
What could Redmond Boyle, Alfred Connors and Frank Getting have made of a full life? Or the 939 Americans? How many Congressmen, Secretaries of State, captains of industry, or Olympians were lost to future generations?
Today we recall the events of seventy years ago, when Australia – with our American allies – were confronted with the stern test of meeting a skilful, determined and brave adversary. We recall too, that we were joined in this campaign by our brothers from each of New Zealand’s services, and that they too paid a heavy price, but also won an enviable reputation that has survived to this day.
70 years on, we take heart that CANBERRA’s loss was not in vain. There were lessons learned about the importance of in-theatre acclimatisation, interoperability, battle damage control – lessons applied today by our respective navies, and by these very ships that have carried us out and over CANBERRA’s final resting place.
On 12 August 1942, CANBERRA’s Executive Officer wrote his preliminary report to the Rear Admiral Commanding Task Force 44. He concluded ‘the behaviour of the Ship’s company was exemplary, and one could not help feeling proud to belong to such a group of men.’
We come here today to rededicate ourselves to that which is good; to that which is decent. To the memories of Redmond and Alfred, and to the 84 crew members of HMAS CANBERRA who gave us this day and, in the doing, who have set for us the highest of standards, to which we should all aspire.
LEST WE FORGET