SS Mendi

Andrew Turner Excerpts

Tuesday 21st February 2017 Commons Chamber

[Dr Andrew Murrison (South West Wiltshire) (Con)]

A hundred years ago today, just before 5 o’clock in the morning, the troop ship Mendi—on its way from Plymouth to Le Havre, in the company of HMS Brisk—was rammed by the freighter SS Darro in thick fog off the Isle of Wight and sank within just a very few minutes. More than 600 mainly black South African Native Labour Corps volunteers were killed in what remains one of the biggest maritime disasters in our waters in our history. On average, about 6,000 men were killed each day throughout the great war, which might explain why the death of 600 men in one incident, dreadful though that is, went unremarked in the House at the time. A search of Hansard will find no contemporaneous reference to it. I am very pleased to be able to rectify that this evening.

It is said that, as the Mendi slipped below the waves, the 65-year-old Reverend Isaac Dyobha steadied the men with these words as they conducted the death dance on the sloping deck:

“Be quiet and calm, my countrymen, for what is taking place is exactly what you came to do. You are going to die, but that is what you came to do. Brothers, we are drilling the death drill. I, a Xhosa, say you are my brothers. Zulus, Swazis, Pondos, Basutos and all others, let us die like warriors. We are the sons of Africa. Raise your war cries, my brothers, for though they made us leave our assegais back in the kraals, our voices are left with our bodies.”

Now, that is probably apocryphal, but the event became an iconic moment in South Africa—a rallying point for black consciousness in the years that followed. Post-apartheid, the Mendi has become a staple in the South African national story: monumentalised, used to name warships, and used to name this day—South Africa’s armed forces day. It is the inspiration for South Africa’s principal civil award for courage, the Order of Mendi. Still deeply and uncomfortably controversial in South Africa, we will probably never know the full details of what exactly happened on that cold foggy night, but the fortitude and dignity of the labour corps volunteers is beyond doubt. War is never glorious, but those who serve in it often are, as this episode so clearly demonstrates.

John Gribble and Graham Scott, in their excellent account of the sinking published this month by Historic England, describe what happened after the collision. There was, of course, a Board of Trade inquiry, conducted over five days in London. The penalty handed down to the Darro’s master seems unduly lenient, given that he was going much too fast in thick fog and failed to observe the rules for the prevention of collision at sea. Worse still, he stood off as men drowned, giving rise to a much circulated story that he was disinterested in rescuing men of colour. It has to be said that that allegation is unsubstantiated. The wreck was rediscovered in 1945 by a Navy hydrographer, and was explored by the Isle of Wight diver, Martin Woodward, in 1968.

[Mr Andrew Turner (Isle of Wight) (Con)]

I am grateful to my hon. Friend for commemorating the centenary of the sinking of SS Mendi. He will be aware that the SS Mendi was positively identified by one of my constituents, Mr Martin Woodward. Mr Woodward has a museum in Arreton, where the bridge telegraph from SS Mendi is exhibited—it is a very great memorial.

[Dr Murrison]

Indeed. We have to be very grateful to Mr Woodward. He was, I believe, a self-taught diver who dived in an old hard hat rig. In those days—the 1960s—diving off the Isle of Wight was quite something. It would have been difficult work. I am yet to visit his museum in Arreton, but I will certainly make it my business to do so when I am next on the island.

In 2009, the Mendi was designated as a war grave by the Ministry of Defence. In 2012, English Heritage commissioned the excellent Wessex Archaeology, which is based near my constituency, to research the wreck and produce a report.