The Sinking of the Rewa

Last year I resolved to share the story of the sinking of the hospital ship, Rewa. I decided to do this on the anniversary of the event in 2026. The trouble was, I failed to check the date and, convinced that it was in February, by the time I looked up the details I realised I had missed it – 4 January! I could have left it until 2027 but, instead, decided to post the story today, Fred Braysher’s birthday, as it was Fred (my grandfather) who told me the story 44 years ago.

In 1982, whilst back in the UK from working abroad, I spent a morning with my 92 year old grandfather, Fred Braysher. Although I had grown up listening to tales of his early life in the army, this was the first time I had heard the full story and, fortunately, I took notes. He died four months later so these valuable notes formed the starting point of decades of research. One particularly dramatic story was this – as written in my notes:

Fred had another lucky escape. A ship he was to have been evacuated on was torpedoed and sunk. His place was taken by a more serious case.

Fred had caught malaria and dysentery in the latter part of 1917 in the Struma valley, whilst serving with 16 Corps Cyclist Battalion. He was evacuated to hospital on Malta, a place he new well and liked, having served there as a young soldier from 1907 to 1911. I still have a collection of hand-coloured post cards he bought during one of his stays on the island.

By the end of 1917 he was clearly much recovered – he was even able to go to the opera in Valletta – and was ready to return home. As his story says, and I didn’t think to probe further (but I suspect my grandmother was getting anxious about the dinner), Fred had given up his place on the ship to a more serious medical case. In my mind, this twist of fate prevented the extinction of the Braysher line!

Fred in his ‘hospital blues’, either in Malta or convalescing at a Norwich hospital.

Very many years later this story came back to me and I decided to investigate further, which was remarkably easy with the internet (a search will find many other articles), and I discovered the story of HMHS Rewa. A clearly identifiable hospital ship, she was torpedoed in the Bristol Channel on 4 January 1918 and sank in a couple of hours. What could have been a terrible tragedy was not, as of the 566 sick and wounded, medical staff and crew on board, all but four men in the engine room took to the lifeboats and were rescued.

Whilst browsing through The Mosquito I came across a short piece from December 1943 regarding an appeal from Mr Ernest Jones, seeking contact with other survivors of the Rewa, as he was interested to know their thoughts on the incident. Mr Jones was one of fifty sick and wounded soldiers who boarded the ship when she called at Malta and recounted:

I remember that we were told on Christmas morning, 1917, that we were for hospital ship next day and what a Christmas present! But the one thing that I shall never forget was the discipline of those sick and wounded sailors who made up the rest of the load, on the night of the torpedoing. They just stood in small groups laughing and talking, waiting for the next order, and all the time the ship was slowly sinking. When I got on deck, I expected to see men jumping overboard or a panic, but the scene was such that I asked if it was only an alarm. The reply was ‘No, my son, we’ve got it this time,’ still I couldn’t believe it until the order was given to lower the boats.

As for Fred, whatever the outcome, I’m sure he was delighted not to have taken the ship on a winter sailing to the UK as he was prone to seasickness but, as a former member of the Suffolk Regiment, he would have been well versed in the ‘Birkenhead drill‘. The one piece of regimental history that he was especially proud of was that a draft from the old 12th Foot had stood quietly on deck as the troopship Birkenhead had slipped beneath the waves in 1852, allowing ‘Women and children first!’ Fortunately Fred’s final journey home required a much shorter time at sea, sailing to Taranto and then across Italy and France by train – far from marauding U-boats!

So the sinking of the Rewa was not the disaster I had imagined, but four members of the crew – from the Indian Merchant Marine – did lose their lives and are remembered on a memorial in Mumbai. They are:

• Sultan Shah Azad, Paniwallah
• Usman Ghulam Qadir, Trimmer
• Ali Ahmad Umar, Fireman
• Said Ahmad Umar, Fireman

A reminder of the global reach of the Great War.

We will remember them all.