A fine Second World War submariner’s D.S.M. group of five awarded to Leading Telegraphist H. S. “Bob” Roberts, Royal Navy, who witnessed much action in the Tuna in the period 1941-43, including the above described ‘sub.-on.sub.’ encounter with the U-644 in the Arctic in April 1943: it was for his fine work on this occasion - seated with his headphones on two cushions atop a depth charge in the control room - that he was decorated

Regular war patrols aside, Tuna carried out her fair share of special operations, most notably in December 1942, when she embarked and delivered the “Cockleshell Heroes” to the Gironde Estuary: Roberts later recalled how he shook hands with each of them and gave them his tot of rum before they departed in their canoes

Distinguished Service Medal, G.VI.R. (JX. 133529 H. S. Roberts, Tel.), in its case of issue; 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star, clasp, France and Germany; Africa Star; War Medal 1939-45, in their original addressed card forwarding box, extremely fine (5) £1800-2200

D.S.M. London Gazette 15 June 1943. The original recommendation states:

‘For coolness and efficiency during a successful attack on a German U-Boat on 7 April 1943, when doing duties as H.T.D., giving the Commanding Officer much useful information which contributed in a large measure to the success of the attack.’

Herbert Stanley Roberts, who was born in Grantham, entered the Royal Navy as a boy rating, aged 15 years, in 1929. Having then attended a signals course, he joined H.M.S. Repulse, followed by further seagoing service in the Enterprise and the patrol craft PC. 74.

In the mid-1930s, however, he volunteered for the Submarine Branch and, by the outbreak of hostilities in September 1939, was serving as a Higher Telegraphist Detector in the Otis in the Far East: ‘The heat inside the boat was terrific and all we wore was a native sarong and clip clop sandal; as fast as you had a cup of tea, you lost it all in sweat.’ It was in just such conditions that Roberts carried out his first war patrols, up until Otis’s transfer to Malta. He was subsequently deployed in operations off North Africa and in the Adriatic, prior to Otis being ordered home at the end of 1940.

In early 1941, Roberts joined the Tuna at Holy Loch, Scotland, the commencement of a protracted period of war patrols, the earliest of them off Norway.

In late November 1942, however, Tuna was charged with a very different type of patrol, namely the embarkation and delivery of the famous “Cockleshell Heroes” to the Gironde estuary. Roberts takes up the story:

‘Whilst on passage the Commandos carried on preparing for their venture, at instructions during the day whilst we were submerged, memorising their escape routes in France. They didn’t seem to take very kindly to submarine life and we saw very little of them, especially at night when we had our meals whilst running on the surface. They didn’t want any and were mostly flat out sea sick. The evening of the operation dawned, we had been stooging around all day, getting reliable fixings off the points of land.

The Commandos were all for’ard waiting to disembark. Before I closed up at my diving station (action station), I nipped for’ard and shook hands with all the Commandos and gave them my tot of rum to put in their bottle. As I shook hands with one of them - he had had enough of submarine life - he said he wouldn’t have our life for all the money in the world. To think that he had to row for four days up a river in enemy territory, hiding by day, I think was a very brave thing to say.

The run in was successful. We dropped four of our canoes safely, but a huge wave slammed the fifth canoe up against our side and knocked a hole in it. As it was full of explosives we had to scuttle it and the two Commandos came back inboard where we tried to console them because they weren’t able to go with their mates, but to no avail. We dropped them both off at Falmouth on the south coast on the way back.

Since the war ended we have learned that we lost some of them the same night we dropped them; only two, Major Haslar and Marine Sparks, managed to get back. I am still in touch with Marine Sparks who got a D.S.M. for his exploits. Some of the Commandos were captured and executed by firing squad.’

As cited above, further adventures awaited Tuna in the Arctic, where in contrast to the attire he wore in the Far East, Roberts ‘wore so many clothes that it was difficult to bend my arm when I was having a cup of tea.’ Whether Roberts was still aboard Tuna at the time of her highly successful patrols at the end of 1943 - she destroyed three more U-boats - remains unknown but it is worth noting for the record that his skipper, Lieutenant D. S. R. Martin, R.N., was awarded the D.S.O, with two Bars.

To conclude, Roberts’s words: ‘We were young, full of spirit and resigned to what the future might hold. It is only now, in the evening of our lives, that we think more than ever of those shipmates and boats whose only epitaph in the daily press of those war years was simply these three words - ‘Overdue, presumed lost’. They hide so much anguish, so much heartbreak and many a tear, but that was our lot.’

Roberts received his D.S.M. at a Buckingham Palace investiture held on 20 November 1945; sold with original Admiralty letter of notification for the award of his D.S.M., together with copied typescript of his autobiography, 25pp., and related newspaper feature, ‘Atlantic winter in a steel coffin’.