by Lilian Kwiatkowski
Australia December 1916
On the other side of the world, another name was added to the list of lost Australian sons who would not be coming home. Rozell Newton Stevens was one of those boys.
Christmas lunch at 119 Melbourne Road, Williamstown was a sad affair. Around the table, someone was missing. This caused a sombre mood. Rozell had been away for some time and in Senior Constable Stevens’ household, they all knew he would never return. The little ones could not contain their excitement about the gifts and toys they had received from Santa, becoming boisterous and whispering to each other.
“Hush childers”, commanded their mother. Her German accent seemed to be more pronounced as she became emotionally charged. “Girls!” she continued as she deftly placed the food on the table. Eight year old Olive Jean the youngest of the seven surviving children looked to her father and cowered under his dark glare. No, there was nothing to celebrate.
Earlier in the morning when they had attended the morning service, the community approached them, expressing their sentiments for the loss of their son and brother. Many of whom had read about the tragedy in the ‘Williamstown Advertiser’.
“Rozell was a first-class mechanic”, were the sentiments. “It was a pleasure to have known him. We’re all very proud of him. You have our deepest sympathy.”
Isaac Stevens was no stranger to grief. There, on the goldfields in Bendigo, he dealt with every aspect of human misery; there were times when he had seen families grieve for their loved ones when people were shot, killed; murdered and even suicided. He had seen death in all its forms, but now to feel the intense emotion of loss for a loved one was exhausting. He understood the consequences of man’s action where greed and other human failings were concerned and didn’t want his children to suffer.
He wanted to remember fondly, of the times when he was stationed at Eltham. He requested his promotion from Footscray in 1904 where his new responsibilities were to take over the Police Station. Rozell was twelve when the family moved from Footscray to Eltham, a chip off the old block, some people would say; a boy who was interested in how everything works. These were the happiest times in Kangaroo Ground/Eltham; the wide open space, undulating fields where the children could run wild.
In 1907, Isaac, then known as ‘Ike, convened a meeting with the idea of providing entertainment for the youth and an outlet for their surplus energy to form a football team. He gained background knowledge of the game while he was stationed for fourteen years in Footscray. They were second on the ladder in the Victorian Football Association of the Australian Rules competition. The three boys, Rozell, Frederick and James played in the local football and cricket teams, but Rozell would always find an excuse and take off on his bicycle to help a farmer fix his farming equipment or help a friend. He was good with his hands. The future could not come quick enough for him, always on the go; on the lookout for something new and exciting to do.
Eltham was a dry, rugged and a challenging part of Victoria, compared to the rural seascape community in Wallace, Nova Scotia, Canada where Isaac grew up.
He was content with life and was always guaranteed a roof over his head with a wife and seven surviving children who all made a contribution to the running of the household. Eva Karoline was always by her mother’s side attending to their household duties, learning everything she could, and looking after Dorothea who was not of school age yet, while he worked long hours. In the meantime, Ida Emma was a bit of a rebel wanting to do her own thing and he had to rein her in many a time, especially after school. She loved and looked after the horses and tended to the chickens and geese. The children had their own individuality and James enjoyed tending to the vegetable garden. His mother would sell the eggs and occasional chickens at the market and he would spend the money on the seeds. He was fascinated by the different varieties of vegetables he could find.
In 1908, his last child Olive Jean was born and soon afterwards the family moved to Williamstown.
Ever since hearing her son was lost at sea, sadness was Karolina’s constant companion and grief was a familiar guest when she woke in the morning; they stayed with her all day as she did her chores. The sadness sometimes followed her into her dreams, she woke with tears on her face, and she now knew the guest would never leave her. Karolina now half expected him to come rushing through the door all excited and remorseful that he was late as he often had at meal times. She saw him, head bent full of concentration over his homework; licking his lead pencil when he drew the neat lines for his drawings and graphs, so that they would run smooth over the paper. No one was allowed to disturb him then.
There were some fun times as she remembered so vividly now; standing to attention, the broom handle under his shirt, in order to keep his back straight and then said;
“Chin up, chest out, shoulders back, stomach in”, collapses on the floor with a burst of laughter, after trying to be so serious. He’d then clamber up, broom handle still intact with arms fixed at the side, and again he’s say, becoming more serious.
“Now, eyes front, Private Stevens, head and eyes lock.” He continued as he mimicked his superior officer giving the orders, “Keep your heels together, and toes apart. No talking. Is that understood?”
Then Rozell would salute. Karolina would be smiling and feeling very proud her son. These were her precious memories.
At the turn of the century, there were many choices for where a boy with mechanical interest could go. When he finished his chores, he would wander down to the docks where the big ships were being built or to the new railway workshops where they assembled engines and carriages that were imported from England for the first government owned railways in the state. Other buildings were soon added, with seven more locomotives built there, and scattered around locally, were clusters of individual workshops that were in operation, and it was here that Rozell trained as a fitter. During his school holidays, he would stay down at the docks from morning ‘till night and soon made friends with the people in the community. They would also look out for him.
During his spare time, he would meet up with his friends, play around the docks, watching cargo being unloaded, and from afar see the sparks flying high from the welders’ corner. With his friends, they would also sit at the wharves’ edge with legs dangling down into the water to cool off on those hot summer evenings.
“I’ll be out there, one day” mused Rozell. “Out there, to see the world.”
His parents were not surprised when they were told that he had decided to join the navy and become a marine engineer.
Rozell was eager to go out to sea and the soundings of war in Europe made a great opportunity for him to gain sea-faring experience for his certificate. Initially, he applied to the First Expeditionary Forces, but was turned down through the malformation of a toe. Failure was not in his vocabulary and settled to do his utmost. The best way to get his certificate as an engineer was to go to London and in the meantime to attend the Melbourne Technical College which only recently developed courses especially for the working class in engineering and other trade practices.
It was hard on the young boy as he had to travel into Melbourne every day, but this was made easier by train; now that the Williamstown Pier railway station was opened. The station existed primarily to serve the Williamstown docks precinct and was the terminus forthe Williamstown line.
He soon found himself on SS.‘Cyrena’ a cargo ship owned by the British Imperial Oil Company’s as a 4th engineer and took upon
his duties with enthusiasm. Each time he joined a vessel, he would have to report his presence on board to the Chief Engineer. He would then take a thorough round of the engine department with the signing off engineer. The duties and responsibilities were complicated and continually checking and cross referencing many items; such as making an assay of the inventory and location of all purifiers and compressor spare; pump spares and tools; ascertain running hours and maintenance schedule of designated machinery and their condition. He spent approximately eighteen months on the vessel and was grateful for the experience, but then he wanted to get to London as soon as possible to present himself for his exams.
Around the Bay of Bengal and dotted along the Andaman coast, coal bunkers were being filled up as the coal ships would dump their supply. From there, the cargo ships and tankers would fill up in order to continue on their journey. Early in 1916, while Rozell was enjoying a welcome shore leave in Singapore he received orders for transfer onto another vessel. There were many ships coming and going and many nationalities.
On 13 May 1915, the Australian Prime Minister’s Department requested that the British Admiralty offer to take on a cruiser as a loan to the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) as a training vessel in order to take a more active role in the war in Asia to form part of a security patrol. Germany had been actively inciting tension in India and Burma as early as 1911, controlled primarily through the German embassy in Washington, even planning to smuggle arms and propaganda in support of a general uprising.[1]
The assigned vessel was SS. Conch which was built by Swan Hunter at Wallsend in 1909 as a bulk tanker for the Anglo Saxon Petroleum Co Ltd, (Shell). The bridge and officer accommodation was amidships with the engine room and crew quarters at the stern. She weighed 5,620 tons gross.
The vessel left Tilbury dock on 28th October1915 for the Far East where they coasted for several months calling at Singapore and Calcutta among other ports. The shipment of liquid benzine for the voyage home was loaded at Rangoon. They left on 27th October 1916 bound for Thameshaven, to the oil refinery.
As she was a bigger ship, Rozell had more personnel to deal with. Coming aboard with him were crew of different nationalities and most of them were Chinamen. They were the chief boiler stokers. The Conch called at Gibraltar on 29th November 1916 to receive route instructions for the passage to London. Warnings of submarine activity in the English Channel had been picked up by wireless on 6th December. They were on the alert for enemy submarines waiting around looking for targets.
‘All went well with the ship proceeding at 10 knots until somewhere off Portland Bill at about 10.30 pm on 7th December when a sudden explosion shook the ship, which listed to port and then righted itself. The Chief Engineer, Mr. H. L. Raffray immediately went to the engine room and found everything in order with the 4th Engineer, Rozell Stevens was on watch. He called the other two engineers who reported that the ship was ablaze. The explosion must have ruptured the tank tops and sent a column of burning oil over the bridge. Telegraph contact with the bridge was tried but no reply was forthcoming. Mr. Raffray believed that all on the bridge would have been killed instantly. The engineers kept the ship going to prevent burning oil collecting round the ship. Four Chinese crew members also took shelter in the engine room. They remained below until about 12.30 am when the 2nd engineer, Lothian Clark, managed to get out through the stokehold and everyone else followed. The bridge was totally burned out and the forward tanks were still ablaze. All the lifeboats had been swung out earlier as a precaution, but all of them were gone. The Chief Engineer was not sure if men had escaped in them or they had been burned.
A small boat was found in the well deck and they got it into the water. Mr. Raffray and the Chinese got in but Rozell Stevens drowned in the attempt as his hands were so badly burned that he could not hold the rope. The rope then broke and the boat drifted astern of the ship which was still proceeding up Channel with the other two engineers aboard; they made a raft for themselves, jumped overboard, and were picked up later at about 4 am.
The Chief Engineer, Mr. Raffray and his Chinese companions were picked up at about 2.am by SS Rattray Head, which also rescued a further five Chinese crew. When last seen by the Chief Engineer the Conch was well down at the bow and gradually sinking’.
Statements taken from Chief Engineer Lothian Clark of the SS Conch
German documents claim that the Conch was torpedoed by submarine UB 23. Although she was hit off Portland Bill, she travelled a further 20 miles to 12 miles off St Albans Head, near Swanage before sinking. A total of 28 lives were lost.
The wreck lies on its port side almost upside down. The stern is intact but has collapsed. The propeller is in place but the rudder has fallen off. There is snagged trawl net in this area. Moving forward a large break in the hull can be seen. This is the engine room area as a boiler can be seen inside. The next 50m of upturned hull is fairly featureless apart from the odd small hole. The forward part of the wreck has collapsed further and a large shingle bank has built up over it. Beyond the shingle bank are the bows. The depth of the seabed is 65m.
(Ancestry.com.au – author Chipchase Nick28/07/2009)
‘The chief engineer of the Conch tells how the explosion of the torpedo flung an enormous stream of burning benzine from end to end of the ship, drenching the bridge with flaming spirit. The engineers kept the engines running in the hope of escaping the burning oil on the surface of the sea. It took three hours before the engineers were able to reach the, deck. Meanwhile the engines, which were oil-fed by an automatic process, kept going, and the ship moved on like a mass of raging flame, leaving a trail of oil behind.’
(Excerpt from ‘The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. Tuesday 26th December 1916)
With the close of 1916, the Germans, rendered desperate by the failure of their methods of terror by land and by sea, were preparing to throw off the pretence that the submarine campaign was being conducted in accordance with the rules governing cruiser warfare. They realised that British merchant seamen were still fighting against heavy odds owing to the inadequacy of the armament which the authorities could spare for their defence, and urged on the German Government that a swift blow should be struck.
Unfortunately, Rozell Newton Stevens was lost in the inky waters of the English Channel along with the expectations and ambitions of a young man. He had joined the Australian Navy initially but was now working on the British ships; he was classified as a merchant navy man.
There is conflicting information about Rozell’s status but I am sure Rozell would still call Australia home.
‘If only he could turn back the tide of time’, was the thought that kept running through Isaac’s head. After the shock, this incident caused him, to make up his mind to leave the Police Force and try a life on the land.
There are plaques commemorating Rozell Stevens’ passing at Tower Hill Memorial in London and Eltham War Memorial, Melbourne, Victoria.
We salute you Rozell Newton Stevens.
‘Lest we forget’
Rozell was born in Hotham West in 1892.
