Hi Seagull,

When a ship sends out a distress signal it normally includes the ship’s identity and its location. During wartime the identity is a call sign assigned to the ship so the ship’s name won’t have to be divulged to the enemy.

Additionally, during the war there were different kinds of distress signals. For a ship sinking (SOS) or (SSS, AAA, or RRR – later in the war, SSSS, AAAA, or RRRR) meaning enemy submarine, aircraft or surface raider at my location etc. and, if time permitted, it would be followed by “Chased” or “Attacked” etc., and the position in latitude and longitude. Latitude was always sent first followed by longitude to prevent confusing the two.

However, things don’t always go as planned during an attack. Here is the actual procedure used by the radio operator in SS HANSEAT March 9, 1942 to send a distress signal. It was still early in the war for the U.S. and SS HANSEAT was registered in Panama so they may not have known of the alternate forms of SOS.

Also note that most merchant ships only had one radio operator and he could not be expected to be in the radio shack every second of the day. Additionally, all messages were sent in Morse Code on the international distress frequency (monitored by U-boat command and any attacking U-boat) so not just anyone could send the distress signal.

“Immediately after the attack I reported on the bridge to Captain Brandt, who ordered me to send a distress call and gave me the position of the ship. I then proceeded to the radio room and switched on the emergency light, disconnected the auto alarm, and shifted the main antenna from auto alarm reception to transmission and from intermediate frequency main transmitter to the emergency transmitter. After checking to see that all was ready, I sent the following message:

SOS SOS SOS DE (from) HPFK HPFK HPFK (call sign of the HANSEAT) HANSEAT TORPEDOED TEN MILES NORTH OF CAPE MAISÍ. PLEASE HELP.

Each word was sent twice with a transmission speed of approximately 12 words per minute, every letter clear and distinct.

I then shifted to reception. As my message was not acknowledged, I pressed the key down and checked the antenna current. The meter showed a little over 1.5 amperes. The note was as fine as it could be from any spark transmitter using two spark gaps.

I again transmitted the message, sending each word twice, at a speed of 15 words per minute. Still no answer. I sent the message three more times, each word twice. During the last repetition I was ordered to my lifeboat station by Captain Brandt, so I finished the message with the following:

ARE NOW GOING INTO THE LIFEBOATS.”

“SSS” should have been sent instead of “SOS” but he included “torpedoed” which implied a submarine attack however U-boats were not the only vessels that carried torpedoes and some aircraft also carried them. Additionally, he described his location as 10 miles north of Cape Maisí instead of giving his latitude and longitude. Lastly, he included the name of the ship in the transmission.

So, in the heat of the moment, he made a few mistakes as was completely normal when your ship is on fire and sinking with you in it. Still, he got the necessary information off. However, many times the radio operator included the name of his ship spelled out just as in this case.

The ship’s call sign “HPFK” was secret but many times these secrets were compromised during the war and Germany had the list and spelling out the name was insurance against the message being garbled.

At any rate, once the name of the ship was known, it could be looked up in Lloyds Register of Ships or Groner to determine the Gross Register Tonnage etc.

Additionally, U-boat command knew where its U-boats were operating and where minefields had been laid so the location given would let them know what probably sank the ship. Also note that the ship frequently didn’t know if it was a mine or torpedo that hit them unless they saw the U-boat or the torpedo coming at them and sometimes reported a mine when it was actually a torpedo or a torpedo when it was actually a mine.

Later, the name of the ship might be gleaned from intercepted enemy radio transmissions and early in the war, the name of the ship might even be printed in the newspaper, if not in the country the ship was sailing for, in another country. Also, if it was a torpedo from a U-boat, the U-boat may have questioned the men in a lifeboat or in the water and they may have given up the name of their ship, its origin, and its destination, and perhaps even its cargo (these were standard questions asked by every U-boat). In any case the U-boat would have reported sinking a ship and the location of the attack and logged it in its KTB and other paperwork.

It was pretty rare that a distress signal was not sent. It didn’t take long and was vital to the men abandoning ship. However, sometimes the radio operator was killed or his transmitter destroyed in the attack and sometimes the ship just blew up.

Even if a distress signal was sent it might not have been picked up by anyone. In that case, the fact that the ship was sunk might not be detected until the ship was overdue at its destination. When it was found that the ship was overdue, the ship’s name would be known and probably reported by someone giving both sides the opportunity to identify the ship even though it was long after the ship was sunk. Of course, any survivors would report the name of their ship as would any witness to the attack including seeing floating mines in the area. While the ship’s name was painted out during the war, it wasn’t always painted out on its lifeboats or its life rings and they may have been found floating after the sinking.

The fog of war strikes again.

Regards,

Ken Dunn