On 21 October 1943, the British Army urgently requested entertainment for troops in Sicily and Italy, whilst similar calls were heard from India and the Middle East. Basil Dean, Director of E.N.S.A., was one step ahead and had already planned to send the largest contingent of entertainers the organisation had sent overseas so far. They would be leaving on a troopship from Liverpool, destined for Palermo later that month. Some of the concert parties were earmarked for the Far East, others for East Africa, while the rest would perform in Italy and Cairo.[1] Despite the shortage of performers in Britain, Dean was confident that the demand for troop entertainment overseas would be satisfied in time for Christmas.
Professional entertainers who performed for the troops on behalf of E.N.S.A. faced many hardships while working for long periods abroad during the war. They were expected to make do with rudimentary conditions in bombed-out towns, with little comfort, often operating close to the frontline. Added to this, many suffered sickness through exhaustion, the local food, or common ailments like malaria. Sadly, one E.N.S.A. performer was killed as a direct result of enemy action whilst on tour (see my article on Vivien Hole). Thankfully, this was an exception, but it’s a miracle more did not fall victim. Perhaps E.N.S.A.'s closest shave of the entire war involved those on board the troopship, the S.S. Marnix van Sint Aldegonde, on 6 November 1943.
From accordion players to magicians, 123 performers—young women and men over 40 years of age (who had so far escaped conscription)—waited with their luggage to board the S.S. Marnix at the dock in Liverpool. All had volunteered to go overseas for periods ranging from 6 to 18 months, but they had no idea about their destination, as wartime security protocols prevented them from knowing. Wherever they were going, they guessed it would be hot based on the provisions they had been instructed to purchase by Drury Lane (sunglasses, water bottles, mosquito nets, etc). Along with their personal kit, they brought everything needed to support their acts, including costumes, musical instruments, ballet shoes, props, a birdcage, and an assortment of musical scores. The roll call included Doreen Thompson, from Cockermouth (with Let's Have a Party), Catherine Lovett, pianist and singer (with Taffy's Twelve), the ballet dancer Catharine Wells (nee Marks) and a young Diana Dors. Many told their own incredible stories about the trip and their time in ENSA, and I encourage you to read further.[2] In all, there were 11 full concert parties (a mixture of variety, straight players, and comedy) and 20 performers who would be part of an entertainment pool when they got to their destination.
Already on board the former Dutch luxury liner were 2,900 soldiers and sailors, along with a group of nurses, WAAFs, ATS, and Wrens. E.N.S.A. was the lowest priority group (‘Z’) to board, and each time a woman walked up the gangplank carrying their suitcase marked with a big red ‘X’, the men cheered. For Catharine Marks, the ship's size gave her an added sense of security:
Everyone was excited to see the ship. It seemed simply enormous, with its bows literally swarming with soldiers and sailors crowding against the rails of every deck. It’s vastness imparted a strong sense of security - such a monster as that could not possibly sink.[3]
Life onboard the troopship was unlike anything the performers had experienced since the war began. The cabin space was cramped, with four people sharing a room, but they were allowed to dine and relax in the lounge with the officers. Javanese waiters served food that would have been unavailable to most people in ration-book Britain. There was a grand piano in the lounge, and Catherine Lovatt writes, "I was introduced to the joys of bingo and bridge, and most evenings we saw one of the shows."[4] But it was not all fun and games; there were daily lifeboat drills everyone had to observe on board the ship. The converted liner was also armed, so there was little doubt of the dangers that they might encounter. The boat left Liverpool on 26 October and steamed to Glasgow to join the rest of the convoy.
The S.S. Marnix van Sint Aldegonde was one of 23 ships in convoy KMF-25A carrying critical supplies for the Italian Campaign. Under the command of a British commodore, the convoy comprised transport ships protected by U.S., British, and Greek destroyers and destroyer escorts, including the anti-aircraft cruiser HMS Columbo. The Dutch liner had taken part in the invasion of North Africa (Operation Torch), Sicily (Operation Husky), and the landing at Salerno (Operation Avalanche) in the past 12 months, so this trip would have been routine by comparison. As the convoy sailed past Gibraltar in November and the weather improved, the E.N.S.A. girls sunbathed on the deck, much to the annoyance of the nurses and A.T.S. who were not allowed to remove their uniforms. The convoy was making for the Tunisian War Channel, a 200-mile-long, 2-mile-wide mine-free path from Galita Island near Bizerta to Tripoli.[5] According to the U.S. Navy Combat Narratives, this strip of water saved 45 days each way on travel between the U.K. and the Middle East. It was also a pinch point that the Luftwaffe exploited.
At 1630 on 6 November, convoy KMF-25A organised its transport ships into three lines with the escort ships in front and on either side of the columns. This was standard procedure when entering the Tunisian War Channel. The S.S. Marnix was the ninth (last) ship in the third column. On board, the E.N.S.A. girls had been enjoying watching the sunset behind the Atlas Mountains. Most of the performers had returned to their cabins to get ready for dinner, which was served at 1800. At four minutes past six, the convoy was attacked on the port side by nine German bombers and 16 torpedo planes. These Junkers Ju-88s, Dornier Do-217s and Heinkel He-111 planes belonged to Kampfgeschwader 26. The destroyer, U.S.S. Tillman picked up the approaching planes on its radar and signalled the alert to the rest of the convoy. It became clear that the lead plane, a Dornier 217 was towing a glider bomb - a guided, rocket-powered weapon. The U.S. Navy's description provides a description of what happened when the glider was released by the tow plane:
The glider crept forward until under the nose of the plane, then turned sharply and headed straight for the Tillman in a shallow glide of great speed, 400 mph according to some observers. As the glider straightened out, the parent plane turned away and disappeared. Fire on the glider was maintained at ranges of 1,000 yards diminishing to about 600 yards, at which range it went into a steeper dive, crashed out of control and exploded about 150 to 200 yards on the destroyer’s port bow.[6]
This was the first time this devastating weapon had been used on an Allied convoy, and before the U.S. introduced radio jamming measures for this kind of attack.
At about the same time as the Tillman was being attacked, aerial torpedoes hit the S.S. Santa Elena and the destroyer U.S.S. Beatty. On board the Marnix, Catharine Lovatt writes,
There was an almightily bang and the ship keeled right over, all the lights went out, and luckily for all of us the ship righted itself.[7]
A torpedo dropped by a Heinkel had hit the ship's engine room. Daily lifeboat drills on their voyage from Liverpool ensured that everyone knew exactly where to go and had their Mae West lifebelts close at hand. Thankfully, there were few casualties and all 123 E.N.S.A. performers managed to leave the Marnix onboard lifeboats safely and were rescued by an American destroyer. The ship later sank close to Cap Bougaroun, just north-west of Philippeville (modern day Skikda), Algeria (37°13'00.0"N 6°12'00.0"E). If you want to spend a couple of hours exploring interactive maps, I recommend the excellent website Resurfacing The Past. The image below marks the location where the S.S. Marnix Van Sint Aldegonde sank in the Mediterranean. The website also plots the points of many of the other ships that were sunk during the Second World War. As you can see from the cluster of dots, she was just one of many vessels that met an unfortunate end in the western Mediterranean.
The entertainers were taken to Philippeville in Algiers, and that's where the adventures really began for many of them! Sadly, the accordions, birdcage, and other miscellaneous theatrical ephemera went down with the Marnix and were lost forever. Disappointed troops waiting for shows in Cairo, Naples, and Mumbai would need to wait for a while longer for these performers. Nevertheless, the show would go on.
[1] ‘T 161/1126 Treasury: Supply Department Registered Files (S Series)’, TNA [The National Archives], n.d., fol. 11, T 161/1126.
[2] Catharine Wells, East with ENSA: Entertaining the Troops in the Second World War (Radcliffe Press, 2001); Catherine Lovatt, Torpedoed While Travelling with Ensa, WW2 People’s War (2005), BBC <https://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/00/a6984200.shtml> [accessed 18 April 2024].
[3] Wells, East with ENSA, p. 10.
[4] Lovatt, Torpedoed While Travelling with Ensa.
[5] Naval History and Heritage Command, U.S. Navy, The Mediterranean Convoys 1943–44, Combat Narratives (Office of Naval Intelligence, U.S. Navy, 2020).
[6] Naval History and Heritage Command, U.S. Navy, The Mediterranean Convoys 1943–44.
[7] Lovatt, Torpedoed While Travelling with Ensa.