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3 September, 2026

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Commemorating Merchant Navy Day

Merchant Navy Day falls on September 3 each year, marking the anniversary of the torpedoing and sinking of the British passenger SS Athenia by a German submarine in 1939, just hours after the declaration of World War II.

By Madeleine Funcke

(Left) the tugboat James Wallace docked in Sydney on January 30, 1943. Captain D.W. (Bill) Ripley, representing the US Small Ships section. Some of the crew of James Wallace around a machine gun in April 1943. (Order unknown) Horace Hannell, Jack 'Tinga' Smith, A. Collins, 'Snowy' Fitzgerald, Norm Colless, Les Briggs.
(Left) the tugboat James Wallace docked in Sydney on January 30, 1943. Captain D.W. (Bill) Ripley, representing the US Small Ships section. Some of the crew of James Wallace around a machine gun in April 1943. (Order unknown) Horace Hannell, Jack 'Tinga' Smith, A. Collins, 'Snowy' Fitzgerald, Norm Colless, Les Briggs.

Merchant Navy Day falls on September 3 each year, marking the anniversary of the torpedoing and sinking of the British passenger SS Athenia by a German submarine in 1939, just hours after the declaration of World War II.

The milestone date commemorates the civilian seafarers who played a vital role during the war, while vulnerable to the same disease, climate, and exposure to enemy attack as those in a formal military branch.

The exact number of Australian merchant seamen who died serving the Allied cause in WWII is unknown.

However, around 1000 are known to have been killed, and more than 40 Allied merchant ships were sunk by enemy action in Australian waters.

The main fighting force of Australia’s Army was fighting the Axis powers thousands of miles away in Europe when the Japanese Imperial Army invaded New Guinea in January 1942, threatening an invasion of Australia.

Allied forces were scrambling to repel the Japanese advance in New Guinea.

US General Douglas MacArthur, the Commander of Allied Forces in the South-West Pacific Area, turned to an Australian fleet of fishing trawlers, paddle steamers, tugs, schooners, ferryboats, barges, sailing boats and pleasure craft to deliver essential supplies to forces in the south-west Pacific, such as weapons and ammunition, medical supplies, and food.

This ‘Rag Tag Fleet’ of merchant seamen consisted of Australians who were too old, too young, or medically unfit to serve in the Navy, Army or Air Force.

On March 19, 1943, the tugboat James Wallace, under the command of Captain Bill Ripley, was ordered to tow 12 barges laden with supplies to Milne Bay/Papua New Guinea, via Townsville and Cairns.

Daniel William (Bill) Ripley was born on the rooftop of a house on Hexham Island during the March floods in Maitland, New South Wales, in 1893.

During WWI, he volunteered for the Australian Light Horse in November 1914, but was rejected on medical grounds.

Ripley was born into a family of professional scullers and was one of the world’s best, retiring from the sport for a quiet family life as the first man to hold both New South Wales outrigger and heavy-boat championships.

He married Mabel Engel on March 18, 1919, and together had four children.

Ripley was 49 years old, had been married for 24 years, and was a father and a grandfather when he signed with the US Navy’s Small Ships in October 1942, captaining the tugboat James Wallace.

On April 14, 1943, a force of roughly 188 Japanese aircraft raided the Allied base at Milne Bay, strafing and bombing vessels in the process.

The following details of an attack on the James Wallace at Milne Bay have been compiled with information from Bill Ripley’s diary in ‘Believe it or not: The Bill Ripley Story Vol. II.’

April 14, 1943, 1225hrs

Seven to eight miles from the “Yank Depot” (Gili Gili) when a Japanese air raid started at the head of the bay.

A few minutes after discovery, planes were flying low over the water, coming straight down the bay for them.

Ripley gave a warning blast to alert the manning of the main guns.

They came close and, not knowing the planes, did not fire until the planes opened fire on them.

Three fighter planes, flying real close to one another, raked them with fire.

The tug returned fire and cut the barges loose.

Other planes were on them, and they returned their fire and also dodged bombs.

The gunners got the fourth plane that came over, falling into the bay two miles astern on the starboard quarter.

(The First Mate) Horace Hannel was in the fight of his life, a bullet glancing off his tin hat, another grazed his hair just above the ear, firing like fury at any plane he could get in his sights, then dodging behind the funnel or a thick coil of rope whenever the fire was too hot.

As the planes came in, Ripley would wait until they levelled out over the water and then head straight for the tug.

Judging the moment to be right, he would put the wheel hard over, wait till she began to swing, and then jump down to the main deck to get some protection from the wheelhouse.

On one occasion during these, Fireman Les Briggs was carrying ammunition along the gunwale to resupply the forward gun when Bill swung the wheel over.

Les and the ammunition were thrown through an open doorway as a fighter plane strafed the gunwale where he had been standing.

The James Wallace had been attacked by four dive bombers and six Zero fighters; the bridge had been shot to pieces by machine gun and cannon fire.

Ripley later discovered a bullet hole right through the back of his shirt, made by a machine gun bullet.

Three of his crew were wounded, two of them seriously.

Frede Oulund sustained severe wounds to his chest and right knee from a bomb fragment, severe lacerations to his right buttock due to a machine-gun bullet, and an abrasion to his small toe due to a bomb fragment.

In their baptism of fire, James Wallace and her crew had, like many of the Small Ships and fighter pilots on that day, performed heroically.

Having just experienced Milne Bay’s heaviest raid, Ripley immediately proceeded to the depot and delivered two of his men to hospital, then returned and picked up the barges delivering them at 2000hrs, and anchored off for the night.

When the war was over, and they returned home, the Australian and US governments refused to recognise the service of the Australians in the US Navy’s Small Ships.

They were denied medallic recognition, the right to march in Anzac parades, entry into any RSL, their DVA benefits and widows' pensions.

Many years after the war, two of these sailors would often get together for a drink and reminisce.

Merchant seaman Frank Finch and TAFE Teacher Bill Lunney were encouraged by Bill's wife, Ruth, to write a book about their service.

They collected stories from across Australia and overseas, resulting in a comprehensive account of Australians who served in the United States Army Transportation Corps.

The book, ‘Forgotten Fleet Vol. I’ attracted a letter from Margaret Oulund, wife of the aforementioned able seaman, Frede Oulund, who wrote:

‘When Japanese planes strafed the tug James Wallace in Milne Bay on April 14th 1943, my husband Frede Oulund received several wounds.

One of these was a hit in the buttock by a machine gun bullet.

Doctors at the American Base Hospital told Frede that he was very lucky to have had a tin of tobacco in his hip pocket.

Though the bullet penetrated, the tobacco absorbed much of the impact, and his wound was much less serious because of this.

Frede used to tell everyone it was not surprising —for the brand of tobacco was "LUCKY STRIKE."

In the attack on the James Wallace, a bullet had passed through Frede's knee.

The American Army Hospital in Milne Bay patched him up, but when he was released, he discovered that his knee was twisted at a strange angle and he walked with a limp.

The doctors told him there was nothing more they could do for him, that he would just have to get used to it.

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Soon after he received this advice, the Japanese Air Force paid Milne Bay another visit.

Frede jumped into a foxhole as the bombs started to fall.

When the all-clear sounded, he scrambled out of the trench and began to walk away.

He couldn't believe it when he realised that his knee had straightened and he was walking without a limp.’

Not until 65 years after the war, and after several tribunals, were the Australians of the US Small Ships granted their overdue DVA entitlements and Merchant Navy Imperial medals. However, most had passed away by this time.

The United States Army Transportation Corps, after investigating their contribution to the success of the New Guinea and Southwest Pacific Campaign, inducted them into the Corps Hall of Fame and granted them entitlement to US Campaign Medals.

In 2023, they were awarded the United States Gold Medal for Merchant Mariners of WWII.

Some members have also been awarded the Netherlands War Cross, Philippines Defence Medal, and Philippines Liberation Medal.

Many were recommended for bravery awards, but few actually received them.

Dave Lloyd, a former Merchant Navy Officer and vice president of the US Army Small Ships Association from 2015 until this year, discussed the significance of Australians in the US Small Ships section.

“In the Second World War, no one questions how the ammunition, the medical supplies, the infrastructure, or all the logistics got into New Guinea.

“(The Merchant Navy’s) war didn’t finish in 1945 like everyone else's; they went on to 1947, because they were still repatriating combatants back to their home.

“They were doing humanitarian work in places like China and in the Philippines.

“When they got back in 1947, no one wanted to know them; yet during the war in the Pacific, from early 1943 onwards, you couldn’t open a newspaper without hearing a story about them.

“Little tugboats, whaling boats, and little fishing boats…were coming up against the Japanese fleet and the Japanese Army, which was an army that had been fighting since 1931.”

The James Wallace was transferred to the Royal Australian Navy in 1945 and was scuttled (deliberately sunk) in January 1971, a year after Bill Ripley’s death in May 1970.

Today, the James Wallace is a dive wreck off Low Head, Tasmania.

The Low Head Maritime Museum displays the ship's wheel and main mast, where Japanese bullet holes are still visible from the air raid on Milne Bay on April 14, 1943.

Heroes 

Don't speak to me of heroes until you've heard the tale

Of all those merchant seamen who sailed through storm and gale

To keep the lifelines open in freedom's hour of need

When a tyrant cast a shadow over every nation's creed.

Captains, greasers, cabin boys, mates and engineers

Heard the call to duty and cast aside their fears.

They stoked those hungry boilers and stood behind the wheel

Whilst cooks and stewards manned the guns on coffins made of steel.

They moved in icy convoys from Scapa to Murmansk

And crossed the western ocean, never seeking thanks.

They sailed the South Atlantic where raiders lay in wait

And kept the food lines open to Malta and the Cape.

Tracked by silent U-boats which hunted from below,

Shelled by mighty cannons and fighters flying low,

They clung to burning lifeboats where the sea had turned to flame

And watched their shipmates disappear to everlasting fame.

I speak not of a handful but thirty thousand plus,

Some whose names we'll never know in whom we placed our trust.

They never knew the honour of medals on their chests

Or marching bands and victory and glory and the rest.

The ocean is their resting place, their tombstone is the wind,

The seabirds' cry their last goodbye to family and friend.

Freighters, troopships, liners, and tankers by the score,

Fishing boats and coasters, two thousand ships and more

Flew their country's ensign as they sank beneath the waves

And took those countless heroes to lonely ocean graves.

Their legacy is freedom to those who hold it dear,

To walk with clear horizons and never hide in fear.

So when you speak of heroes, remember those at sea,

Defiant merchant seamen who died to keep us free.

David Partridge, October 2002.

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