Date of Arrival

Place

Date of Departure

Orders, Remarks etc

14.1.42

Scapa

17.1.42

18.1.42

Rosyth

?

19.1.42

Port Edgar

17.4.42

9/2 From A S Rosyth: LEDA taken in hand for refit and fitting out for cold climates. Provisional completion date end of March 1942

6/4 From D of D: LEDA completes 13/4 ex trials

18.4.42

Scapa

23.4.42

25.4.42

Iceland

26.4.42

26.4.42

PQ15 sailed from Reykjavik on 26/4 with Bramble, LEDA and Seagull as part escort.

2.5.42

Heavy escort left the convoy and Capt J Crombie of HMS Bramble became senior officer of the escort.
CLICK HERE for Bramble's Report on Convoy PQ15

At 2009 Seagull (Lt Commander Pollock) with the destroyer St Albans attacked and brought to the surface a submarine later identified as the out of position Polish submarine Jastrzab. She was sunk by gunfire.

3.5.42

At 0127 convoy PQ15 was attacked by six He111’s at low level, sinking 3 merchant ships with their torpedoes. Three aircraft were shot down. 137 survivors were picked up.

At 0142 LEDA carried out an attack on a submarine (Click here for Report)

At 2230 the convoy was bombed by Ju88’s scoring one near miss for the loss of one aircraft.

4.5.42

In the evening a south-easterly gale blew up off the Russian mainland, filling the air with snow clouds and concealing the convoy.

5.5.42

The convoy arrived Kola Inlet at 2100.

MESSAGE 2300/B  5th May 1942 From SO 1st M S Flotilla

PQ15 arrived Murmansk. Regret to report loss of Botavon, Jutland, Cape Corso as a result of attack by six torpedo aircraft at 2327 May 2nd in position 73N, 19.40E. Attack carried out in good conditions and aircraft appeared to be led in well by leader who may not have carried torpedo. Indications that shadowing submarine may have surfaced and fired torpedoes at same time. One aircraft destroyed and possibly one other. 136 survivors including Commodore. Convoy bombed at 2230 May 3rd in position 73N, 31.51E. Minor damage from near miss to Cape Palliser only. One Junkers 88 shot down. Attack badly carried out and hampered by low cloud. Convoy continuously shadowed by one or more aircraft and or one or more submarines to 36E. Submarines driven off successfully by screening force forcing them to dive and firing depth charges in vicinity. 

21.5.42

At sea

23.5.42

Eastern Local Escort for QP12 (17 ships) comprised Bramble, Gossamer, LEDA, Seagull and two Russian Destroyers. Harrier was part of the ocean escort arriving Reykjavik 29/5 without incident.

29.5.42

On the evening of the 29^th, 140 miles NE of the Kola Inlet,  Captain Crombie commanding the 1^st MSF based at Kola joined PQ16 in HMS Bramble, together with LEDA, Seagull, Niger, Hussar and Gossamer. The convoy divided and at 2330 Crombie’s section, escorting six of the merchant ships to Archangel, was attacked by 15 Ju88’s while 18 attacked the Murmansk-bound ships.

30.5.42

Crombie’s division, proceeding in line ahead and led by the Empire Elgar, arrived at the estuary of the Dvina on 30/5 where it met the ice breaker Stalin. They began a passage through the ice lasting 40 hours. Confined to the narrow lead cut by the Stalin, they were attacked by Ju87 Stukas in a noisy but useless attack.  This section of PQ16 passed Archangel and secured alongside at Bakarista, a new wharf two miles upstream.

Commander Onslow, Senior Officer close escort reported that four fifths of the convoy had got through....  ‘due to the gallantry, efficiency and tireless zeal of the officers and men of the escorts and to the remarkable courage and determination of those of the merchant vessels. No praise can be too high for either’.

31.5.42

Kola Inlet

?

14.6.42

Attacked by six JU87's off Mishkov Point; five near misses caused some minor damage

The soviet icebreakers Krassin and Montcalm were escorted to Archangel by HMS Bramble, LEDA, Hazard and Seagull. HMS Intrepid and Garland were sailed later to act as cover against possible surface attack. The whole force arrived at Archangel on 21st June.

21.6.42

Archangel

?

26.6.42

At sea

Bramble, Hazard, LEDA and Seagull formed part of the local escort for QP13 (36 ships) from 26/6 to 28/6. Ocean escort included Niger (to 5/7 when she sank) and Hussar (to 7/7). Thick weather meant the convoy was not attacked.

29.6.42

Hazard and LEDA escort the tanker Hopemount from Murmansk to Archangel.

1.7.42

Archangel

?

11.7.42

Hazard and LEDA met Britomart, Halcyon, Samuel Chase, Ocean Freedom, Lotus, Lord Middleton and Northern Gem and took the weary survivors of PQ17 in to Archangel.

22.7.42

Bramble, Hazard, LEDA and four other ships met some more of the surviving ships from PQ17 and escorted them into Archangel, arriving on the evening of 24/7.

….including the other guests seated round the table, especially the commanders of such of the First and Sixth Flotillas of fleet minesweepers which happened to be alongside at that moment. All those who found themselves chance neighbours so far from home had come in a body to pay their respects and sign their names in the visitors' book of the Pozarica's Captain, and I was looking through the book the other day to make sure who had been there that evening ‑ Lt. H. J. Hall, Lotus ... Lt. Boyd,Poppy . . . Lt. Rankin, Dianella . . . Lt. Bidwell, La... Lt. Wathen, Lord Austin ... Banning, Rathlin, Master and one of them had added “PQ17, Novaya Zemlya, and Ekonomia, and quite enough!" ‑ but, in the end, after much reminiscent search, I could only be certain that the three signatures which came to mean most to me personally during our incarceration in North Russia were those of the commanders of the LEDA, Halcyon, and Hazard.

 

Three very different types of men: Seymour of Hazard, who had just been awarded his brass hat, possessing an aquiline profile and a passion for the R.N. that made his ship a model of efficiency and his manner at first slightly intimidating till one came to appreciate that if you are compelled by Service obligations to spend years of your life, first in China, then in North Russia, it is as well to adopt a creed of self‑sufficiency: Wynne‑Edwards, ruddy cheeked, hospitable, warm‑hearted, whose ship, LEDA, became such a second home to me out there that I cannot even now think of her and her crew without my heart contracting: and finally Corbett‑Singleton of Halcyon, like a huge sheep‑dog with a shy, sleepy manner, that did not prevent him from winning a double D.S.C. in the course of the war, or from sending ‑ a lightning flash of relieving humour - my favourite signal of the whole voyage. Just as the news had been passed from ship to ship that our convoy had to scatter, he hoisted, "Now I know what the Itie fleet feel like!"

 

Now I know myself, because I have made it my concern to sort it all out, something of the exploits of these two flotillas that first became discs on the operational maps when they commenced their shuttle service, accompanying the second convoy to make the trip through the Barents Sea. That was in October, 1941, the flotilla leader, Bramble, was there, and from that time on no convoy made the journey either way without at least two or three of this small group as part of their escort the whole voyage. I, think it was only when I found myself, later, a member of the crew of the Cumberland serving in those same waters, in winter, that I became in the least degree cognizant of what it must have been like for ships, by comparison so tiny, facing exactly the same hazards, with an inevitably minute proportion of the same resources to combat not only the ravages of the weather but all the other dangers that surrounded them.

Source: Extracts from ‘PQ17’ by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica 

The next morning there were two Positive results from that news from home which had succeeded in penetrating the fog of our isolation. I was invited to a party to be held two nights later on board Commander Wynne-Edwards’ ship, the LEDA, and we also received a consignment of green cabbage from the Russian authorities. We did not connect this most welcome gift with the rumour that the second Front had really started up because, after all, the Captain had been pressing for fresh vegetables of any kind, day after day, for a month now. But, of course in our present mood and circumstances there could be no other reason for giving a party, and it turned out to be a most excellent party, too though rather different from my last experience in the ward‑room of the Fury at Seidisfjord Then gin had flowed like the waters of the Dvina River: now they had scraped together sufficient dregs to concoct a LEDA Special ‑ subtitle: Ekonomia's secret weapon ‑ but after the first half‑hour it was the high spirits of the company alone, produced from some store hidden beneath hatches, in that miraculous way that countrymen in exile do succeed in whipping up a supply of good will towards each other, which made it, everyone agreed, the most successful of all the periodical gatherings of "Ye Sockites".

 

It certainly seemed a memorable evening to me, and the magic started the moment I came over the side and I was me by the Master of Ceremonies, with a completely serious face and a very old sock, attached to his best uniform by a safety pin. On other occasions, he was Lt. Pengelly, LEDA's Gunnery Officer, who used to take me sailing in the dog‑watches and talk to me about his native Cornwall, and especially Looe, with its absurd little toy pier shaped like a banjo, and the brown sails of the fishing boats softly coming home to sleep on summer's evening. Pen possessed the easy, friendly charm of the officer who has once been a matlow himself, and won promotion from the lower deck the hard way, and knows all the answers, like the Heavenly Twins, in our ship, did. But had no answer when in the course of the evening I was presented with a sheet of paper which read!

Honours and Awards.

H.M.S. LEDA Gazette. Ward‑room Officers of HMS LEDA have been graciously Pleased to approve the following appointment. To be an additional Member of the Most Excellent Order of the "Old Sock:"

             Mr. Godfrey Winn.

Signed by Order of the "Old Sockites."
 

And then Pen's signature in ink as the "commodore" and a very grand seal attached. The seal of His Majesty's ships. Another silly little joke? Oh, yes, I know. But somehow it didn't seem like that, especially as the hours passed, and I came to have about six of the oldest navy‑blue socks in the world attached to my person. I can remember so well at one moment finding myself in a corner talking to the Doc, who looked after the crews of the whole flotilla of minesweepers. He was drinking what he always called the "Doc's Special", ship's lime juice, and I1 was grateful to share his glass after the parching heat of the rugger scrums in which I kept finding myself, conscious that it was only a question of time before I was debagged too. As for the LEDA's Special, that had long since given out though it did not worry the Doc since he never drank anything stronger than his own Special, however much was ragged for being a Pussyfoot. Not that he was much ragged because there was no more popular member of the ward‑room He was ever on his quiet way, listening to confi­dences, giving advice on many subjects but indirectly connected with medicine, talking in his slow, deliberate Scots voice so that, little by little, you came to listen to him, even above the hubbub of a party.

 

The pilot of the LEDA made plenty of noise that night, but he drank nothing stronger than lime juice, either. It was something to do with a vow, in his case. A vow never to drink even a glass of beer in harbour until he was reunited with his        wife in their own country, then overrun by the Nazis. For Lt Aarl came from Oslo, and his wife had won a national competition as "Miss Norway" for her beauty before he carried her off to be his bride. He himself was fair and good looking in the way that film stars so seldom are in the flesh, and he carried himself with great dignity and with very real respect for the uniform that he wore, and he never went ashore, they told me, even to visit the Welcome Inn. Whenever I, in my turn, visited the ship, he always seemed to be there on the quarter‑deck, pacing up and down, up and down, as though the ship itself was his sheet‑anchor, a substitute love for the wife whose cardboard picture, looking a little like Garbo, he took me below that night to see in his cabin.

 

I was very touched by his confidence, for he had a reputation for reticence and I wished that there was something that I could do to ease the burden of which he could only haltingly speak. I have a feeling now that our friendship blossomed in that short time, when I crossed the edge of his orbit, because he recognized in me a special kind of exile, too, though it may well have been simply that he could not bare his heart to those with whom he came in daily and continuous contact.

 

I said: "Pilot, when you get back to England next time, you will promise to come and see me, won't you? And stay as long as you like.”

Source: Extracts from ‘PQ17’ by Godfrey Winn who travelled to North Russia aboard HMS Pozarica 

28.7.42

Dvina

9.8.42

Escorting Winston Salem

2.8.42

A great morale booster for us while we lay alongside, came after a get-together of the officers from the fleet sweepers, and the three trawlers to help to try and get rid of the boredom that was creeping gradually over us all, both officers and men alike. They came up with the idea of holding inter-ship sports of various kinds; in some of the sports the trawlers were classed as one ship, the men from all three who wished to take part putting their names down for any type of sport which took their fancy, and were then chosen for a team to represent us all. This made for great rivalry, and despite the weather, we enjoyed some good sport and fun, either by taking part, or by just watching and cheering the teams on to do their best aided by some ribald comments.

The Northern Gem's own newspaper, the Sunday Buzz, Vol 1. No 1, for Sunday 2nd August 1942, gives this story and the following list of results:-

Sports. . . Despite inclement weather, we have enjoyed some good sport during the past week, in which the trawlers have by no means disgraced themselves. For the benefit of future historians the results are summarised below. We hope that these events are only the forerunners of a series of contests, thoughtfully provided to relieve the monotony of our sojourn.

Tug of War At the time of going to press this event had not been held.

Source: http://www.naval-history.net/WW2Memoir-RussianConvoyCoxswain06.htm
COXSWAIN IN THE NORTHERN CONVOYS - S.A. Kerslake published by William Kimber, 1984 

14.8.42

Archangel

20.8.42

?

Archangel

31.8.42

13.9.42

Britomart, Halcyon, Hazard and Salamander joined QP14 from Archangel as local eastern escort. The ocean escort included Bramble, Seagull (until 26/9) and LEDA (sunk on 20/9).

Report of Commanding Officer HMS Bramble Senior Officer of the Close Escort (extracts)

The wind moderated in the afternoon and with the assistance of Russian tugs the convoy assembled successfully and weighed and proceeded at 1600 on 13th September. Passage through the White Sea was without incident and in fine weather. 

15.9.42

The first incident of note was at 0730 on 15th September when a Ju 88 commenced shadowing the convoy. The convoy at this time was being escorted by two Russian fighters and it was hoped that they would shoot down, or any way drive off this shadower. They appeared, however, not to see her, in spite of crossing and re-crossing at what looked like very close range to each other. Every endeavour was made to call the attention of these fighters to this shadower by V/S but without effect; eventually the British Naval Liaison Officer in the Russian destroyer Uritsi reported that they were unable to communicate with their fighters. HMS Middleton then fired one round in the direction of the shadower. This, as I feared, had exactly the opposite effect to that intended, and the Russian fighters disappeared home, probably complaining that they had been fired at.

Source: Report of CO HMS Bramble

Russian passenger gave birth to daughter during air alarm!

Report of Commodore J C K Dowling on Ocean Voice

16.9.42

During the following day the convoy was constantly shadowed in daylight hours. The convoy made good speed and with the prevailing current I realised that we were ahead of the estimated position signalled by the SBNO, North Russia. On the other hand we were not ahead of schedule based on the C in C Home Fleet's message of 12th September.

During the afternoon of the 16th September the weather started to deteriorate and the visibility to decrease and I realised that these factors combined with the errors in position would make contact difficult unless I reported the position of QP14. Not wishing to break wireless silence I delayed making my signal by R/T until I felt certain that the two forces were close enough for reception to be certain. The signal reporting my position and speed was made at 1515 on the 16th September. The weather continued to deteriorate during the night and the convoy got a little scattered. I ordered HMS Seagull to return along the track of the convoy and round up SS Winston Salem and Silver Sword. SS Troubadour had been a very early straggler and the Commodore had decided not to wait for her.

Source: Report of CO HMS Bramble

It is snowing hard this morning. We have been spotted by a Dornier and unless the weather favours us, I guess we will all be standing by.

Source: Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine

17.9.42

The Rear Admiral (D) Home Fleet was sighted at 0517 17th September and after the other destroyers had joined an A/S screen was formed in which HMS Bramble took one of the positions on the port bow of the convoy. 

Source: Report of CO HMS Bramble

18.9.42

The decks are covered with ice and snow, and it is blowing a gale. We took on oil from one of the tankers, this was done while under way. Some of the seamen were brought in with their jaws frozen up. It is icy-cold in the engine room. I have been so long without a good meal I don't think I shall be able to eat one now. We passed the island of Good Hope tonight. 

Source: Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine

19.9.42

We are running alongside Spitzbergen today. It is all covered in snow and ice. I am glad that I live in the U.K. We are being shadowed by German aircraft all the time.

Source: Diary of Jack Bowman who served on La Malouine

“In September the PQ18 arrived, losing 14 ships out of 40. A number of days elapsed, and then the return journey got under way, and the La Malouine was stationed on the port quarter of the now-called convoy QP14.

“About two days later one of the old PQ18 escorts, HMS LEDA, on the starboard bow of QP14, reported that her sonar had broken down.

“The Senior Officer ordered her to swap her station on the starboard bow with the La Malouine stationed on the convoy’s port quarter. During the night the LEDA was torpedoed and, regrettably, no ship was sent to assist her.

“Over the years I often thought of that unfortunate crew, and how lucky the La Malouine crew was that the Senior Officer had made Northern Gem swap her dome and transducer with us.

“Finally, more than 50 years later, looking up information about the convoy on the Internet, I was amazed to see a photo of the LEDA, prior to or after her being torpedoed. The U-boat also picked up some crew member survivors – thank goodness.”

Source: http://www.navynews.co.uk/articles/2002/0208/1002080201.asp 

20.9.42

The weather during the passage of the convoy was poor. At 0530 on the morning of the 20^th, two torpedoes from U435 (Strelow) hit LEDA, which was at the rear of the convoy. The tough little warship took an hour and a half to sink in 76º31'N, 05º32'E. Commander Wynne-Edwards, 86 of his crew and two merchant navy officers were picked up and accommodated aboard Seagull, Rathlin and Zamalek. Six later died of wounds or hypothermia. Later that day another escort (Somali) and a merchantman were torpedoed.

 Source: http://www.naval-history.net/WW2Memoir-RussianConvoyCoxswain06.htm
COXSWAIN IN THE NORTHERN CONVOYS - S.A. Kerslake published by William Kimber, 1984 

On fairly calm seas, but passing through the banks of fog, and squalls of snow, we progressed onwards with no scares, and on 18th September when we had passed somewhere in the region of the southern tip of Spitzbergen, we were pleased to have join us some aircraft from the escort carrier Avenger, which at the time was with the other convoy outward-bound for Russia. It was on this day that one of our officers, Skipper Tommy Buchan, was confined to his bunk with a very severe bout of influenza, and the CO Skipper Lt Mullender showed his trust in me by asking me if I would take over his watch. I said yes and felt mighty proud and confident in doing this; it would give me more experience of watch-keeping on my own, though I had naturally to keep in touch with the CO by means of the voice pipe from the bridge to his quarters, in the case of there being an emergency. And so it was that I came to be on the top bridge in charge of the watch from four a. m. until eight a. m. on the morning of 20th September.

It was a fine morning, an early morning breeze ruffling the surface of the sea, but there was hardly any swell. Visibility was very good, but there was an overcast sky which threatened more snow. The ship was on station astern of the starboard column of merchant vessels at a distance from them of about two-thirds of a mile. On our starboard bow was the Fleet sweeper HMS LEDA, I had to keep my station on her at forty-five degrees on my bow and astern of the starboard column. Several times since I had come on to the bridge to take over from the previous watchkeeping officer, I had checked on our position. I did not want to be caught off station should the Skipper put his head out of his cabin, and it was getting on for half past five that morning when I lined up the LEDA to take a bearing on her on the bridge compass. As I was going through the drill I noticed a huge cloud of smoke come out of her funnel, and the thought that she had just flashed up a boiler had hardly got into my head when I saw a column of flame shoot upwards and at the same time heard and felt the crump of an explosion. Sticking to my orders from the CO, I shouted down for full ahead and a course to take us towards the LEDA, at the same time pressing the alarm on the bridge to sound general alert and shouting down to the CO what had happened. But he was by that time on his way up the bridge ladder, took over from me, and I made my way to the steering bridge.

Taking over the helm I kept on for the LEDA, and as we got closer the CO shouted down that he was going right alongside her as she lay stopped in the quiet water, so that the crew could step on board without getting their feet wet. It would save the need for putting a boat over the side. When we reached within a hundred and fifty feet of her, and starting to ease round to go alongside, the crew started to abandon ship by jumping over into the sea on her port side, and we had to go full astern to stop, making certain that we did not run some of the faster swimmers under; one of the first to be picked up was a lieutenant, and he was followed by eighty or more of the crew. Fortunately they were not in the water very much more than two or three minutes before we got them onboard, so they were able to help themselves to a certain extent. Our CO told me later that one of the other ships came up in between the LEDA and us, running down an officer and some ratings on a raft. As I did not see this happen I cannot say whether or not it was correct, but I know that we did not pick them all up, including her CO; I don't know yet what happened to him.

We had the rescue nets over the side for them to climb up as quickly as was possible, and as they did so a destroyer came up our starboard side and shouted through her loud hailer for our skipper to get back to the convoy, for we were not supposed to stop to pick up survivors on the run back. Our skipper told him to f . . k off, whereupon the destroyer's CO said he would report him when we arrived in port, though as far as I know nothing came of it. It was all go, just backing and filling with the engines on slow to save men who were in danger of drifting past ahead or astern of the Northern Gem. Having picked them all out of the water, we came hard to starboard and made our way back to our station, and astern the LEDA turned on to her starboard side and slid under the cold waters of the Arctic ocean. I did not see her go for I was relieved at the helm by Tim Coleman, so that I could go down below and dish a tot out to all onboard. By the time I got down I found that we had three dead onboard, an SPO, a PO and an ordinary seaman, all having been injured in the torpedo explosion which I think hit her in the forward boiler room.

We had a total of eighty-one survivors onboard, including nine of the men getting a lift home on the LEDA from the SS Navarino, and the SS River Afton, both sunk on the way out with PQ17, thus getting their second ducking in the water. We sorted them out and took their names down, and gave them bunks to sleep in. They all had to share with our lads, and I had three or four chiefs and petty officers sharing my cabin in the after quarters. They were great lads and appreciated the situation and what we did for them. One of them sharing my cabin, Basil Potts, an ERA, later sent me a leather-backed Bible, along with a letter asking me to thank the whole of the Gem's crew, for all the help we had given to them, I have kept and treasured them to this very day. They had all been sad to see their old ship slip beneath the waves into the depths of the sea, taking with her those who had been killed or trapped when the torpedo hit her. There was nothing anyone could do to save those who were trapped as she was going too quickly, and all who could had to save themselves.

Almost twelve hours later, when we had just about caught up with the convoy, though it took some doing when they had got so far ahead during our rescue work, as we had only a knot or so to spare. we were coming up astern of the Silver Sword when we noticed first of all two great columns of water shoot up from her starboard side, and we immediately thought that a high level bombing attack was in progress. Then there was a third splash of water this time on her port side, I remember. Then we knew that it was a U-boat attack, and that the Silver Sword was doomed with three hits on her, and quite suddenly she started to sink. By the time we arrived on the spot all of her crew had been picked up, and there were just swirls on the surface of the water. Then a second or two later large sacking covered bales from her holds shot out of the water and into the air, before settling back to float quietly and serenely to some other destination than where it was originally bound. What was in them was anyone's guess, some suggested silver fox furs, and one or two of the crew tried unsuccessfully to snare one with a grapnel on a heaving line, and it's probably as well they didn't because we were doing somewhere in the region of eleven knots, and they would have been dragged over the side.

Source: http://www.naval-history.net/WW2Memoir-RussianConvoyCoxswain06.htm
COXSWAIN IN THE NORTHERN CONVOYS - S.A. Kerslake published by William Kimber, 1984  

Next day, September 20, was Sunday again - and another Black Sunday it turned out to be. Just before 5.30 a.m. watchers on Ayrshire saw what seemed to be waves breaking on an oddly disturbed sea. They were puzzling over the curious looking waves when a series of explosions rocked the minesweeper LEDA, steaming astern of the convoy. She had been torpedoed and was very quickly in serious trouble. 

Northern Gem steaming two miles astern of the convoy was stationed about one and a half miles on LEDA's port beam. When a muffled explosion was heard and flames were seen belching from LEDA's funnel Skipper-Lieutenant Mullender immediately rang full ahead... 'I brought Gem hard-a-starboard, intending to put her alongside LEDA's starboard, weather side. When we got within 250 yards of the sweeper I could see many of her company scrambling to the forecastle head - she was well afire amidships and threatened to break in two. I ordered my crew to get our port boat inboard so that we didn't smash it as we went alongside - I thought we might well be in need of it before we got home. Then, on looking back at LEDA I saw an officer dive overboard to swim to us. By hell, he was getting along! But it was the worst thing he could have done, as suddenly other men started jumping and sliding into the sea off her foredeck and leaping through the torpedo hole in her side. I had to stop Gem 50 yards off the sweeper's bow or we would have drowned them between the two ships. I ordered our boat lowered to pick the men up out of the water, but it was a hell of a job to hold them as by this time they were covered with oil which had poured from the torpedoed ship. Other survivors were all around on rafts and clinging to our side nets.' 

'A trawler which steamed down between us and LEDA ran over six men on a raft, one of them I think being LEDA's doctor. I saw all six men go under the trawlers bottom. LEDA turned turtle and the last I saw of her captain he was sitting on the ship's bottom, or what was left of it. I think he was saved.'

'A destroyer steamed over and ordered me to leave the men in the water and get back to the convoy. I told her to go to hell. Her captain was right in one respect, because if we too had been torpedoed while we lay there many more men would have died, but in the circumstances such a chance had to be taken. If only LEDA's company had waited until we had got alongside no doubt we could have saved more...' As it was, Gem pulled seventy men from the sea but others were doomed. 

Aboard Ayrshire, which had no scramble nets or rope ladders, Sub-Lieutenant John Aylard and others hung over the ship's side with someone holding their feet, grabbing the hands of men in the sea and trying to pull them aboard, but in many cases owing to the oil everywhere the hands of the struggling men slipped from their grasp and the men were swept away and drowned. Cruelly among them were six survivors of the River Afton which LEDA had been bringing home. Others saved from the sea died shortly after rescue. It was a savage blow.   

Source: PQ17 Convoy to Hell - Paul Lund & Harry Ludlam 

22.9.42

Survivors from HMS Leda (Source: PQ17 - Godfrey Winn)

When we had left the White Sea, it was touch and go as to whether we had enough food to see us through, water too was going to be a problem. We had picked up the men from the LEDA, and they had now been biting into our rations for over two days. With over two hundred souls onboard things were getting a bit chaotic, and with all these extra mouths to feed, I had estimated that we should be lucky if we lasted two more days with the food we had, though the water situation was not too bad as yet.

Conditions in both the seamen's mess and the petty officers' mess were terrible, with all the bunks full and men either standing or lying on the decks, taking up every available bit of space. Moreover there were many of the merchant seamen who would not go down below, and just roamed about the upper deck, blocking the entrances to the various companionways, which would have obstructed our crew getting to their action stations if the need had arisen again, but fortunately it did not. While we were steaming, the dead American fireman who had been brought onboard from the SS Bellingham had, because of the situation we were in, been buried while the Gem was forging ahead, a thing we had not liked to do, but had to.

Now I was called to take the helm it seemed as though the answers to the signals had come through, for I was told that we were to go alongside one of the destroyers to pick up some food. Which one I don't remember; it could even have been the Somali. It probably was for she had to be lightened and many things were ditched over her side. However it was always a ticklish piece of work going alongside another vessel, as one had to keep an eye open for anything to happen. This time we went close enough for them almost to pass the cases of tinned stuff over, with the use of a heaving line. Soon that job was done, and it was time for us to close on the Seagull, onto which ship we transferred two naval officer survivors from the LEDA, and thirty-one naval ratings along with three merchant navy seamen who were transferred to the SS Rathlin. So this made things a bit easier on the Gem. At first it seemed to us that most of the merchant seamen wanted to go, as they had not been too pleased about being picked up by a small trawler, but when they were given the chance to go, only three went, the remainder saying that they stood a better chance of getting home on a small ship. In the words of one man when asked if he wanted a transfer to the Rathlin, 'The chances of my being tin-fished on this "Coggy-boat" are far less than on one of yon big uns.'

Source: http://www.naval-history.net/WW2Memoir-RussianConvoyCoxswain06.htm
COXSWAIN IN THE NORTHERN CONVOYS - S.A. Kerslake published by William Kimber, 1984   

It was seven o'clock in the morning, and the telephone beside my bed was ringing and a woman's voice I did not recognize was asking to speak to me.

"They gave out over the wireless last night that the LEDA had been sunk. But they made no announcement about casualties. Could you possibly find out if my husband is all right?"

I marvelled at her composure, but then that was the way my own Captain's wife would have behaved, too. "The one good thing I ever did was to marry the right girl." On my return I had written and told her that and many other things beside and now I saw her husband's ruddy, open face, saying goodbye to me on the quayside. I certainly had not recognised death in his eyes that day. Was I still drugged and dreaming this conversation? With an effort I pushed the bedclothes back off my chest, as though with the same gesture to free my mind. From a long way off, at the other end of a tunnel I heard myself answer. "I'll ring up the Admiralty at once, Mrs Wynne‑Edwards.

This was something I could do legitimately without feeling I was being a confounded nuisance. And the news they we able to give me, in due course, checking the names, sent me rushing to dial "Telegrams". For the LEDA's Captain was among the rescued. He was safe, on land. One vigil at least through   the long night was at an end.

Later that day, a telegram arrived for me at the flat. I am looking at it now, and it still states the same simple fact.

“THE SWIM WAS RATHER COLD BUT I MADE IT.

I WILL GIVE YOU A RING. PILOT. LEDA.”

That evening for the first time I had no inclination to walk aimlessly about the streets, or take refuge among the mirrored reflections in the Regent Palace. I was no longer afraid of my own company, alone in the flat, as I waited again for the telephone to ring. However, in the end it was not till three days later that he came, and I remember how he was dressed in a borrowed Civvy suit, and started to apologize for that, as soon as he was inside the door.

"But my new uniform will be ready on Saturday," he went on, quickly. "I have already been to the Admiralty to ask when I can have another ship, but they say I've got to wait a fortnight at least …” I started to get Aarl a drink, until I remembered that was no ‑use. "Nice place you've got here.” I don't think I made any reply, standing, there by the fireplace, awkwardly waiting. There was a pause. We both knew what in the other's mind. The Roll Call. "We lost the Doc.," Pilot said, at last.

As he spoke, he was holding his two hands very tightly clasped together against his knees. I've seen other men make the same movement when they are talking of the same thing.

"They got us in the dawn. You know how it is yourself, those hours at sea the dusk and the dawn. I was asleep in my cabin and the next thing I remember was being on the quarterdeck and the ship split in half. Yes, right in half. Afterwards they said it was a tremendous explosion, but the funny thing is I can't remember any noise at all, I only remember the oil everywhere and a kind of numbness, as though I was still asleep ... we tried to launch a whaler ... the one you went sailing in sometimes, in the dog‑watches ... but it was too badly damaged by the explosion ... so in the end I shouted out to Pen, who was on a Carley float, 'Any