Abstract
R. O. Neish aims to shed light on the invaluable work of the Bustler-class rescue tug during the Second World War and beyond. Having worked in Leith's shipyards, about which the author has also recently written a new volume, Neish is evidently abundantly passionate and knowledgeable about the subject. 1 It is rightly asserted that the ‘small’ vessels are often overlooked in favour of their larger counterparts, and that much more focus should be given to the vessels that perform essential tasks – the rescue tug being a prime example. The fact that the Royal and merchant navies could not have functioned adequately without the assistance of tugs and other auxiliary vessels cannot be overstated. Indeed, there has been comparatively little published on the work of rescue tugs in the Second World War apart from Ian Dear's The Tattie Lads and perhaps a few autobiographies. 2
Neish highlights the dangers and discomforts that the men aboard perpetually faced during the Second World War with the many challenges that came from enemy attack, snapped tow lines and bad weather. It reinforces that, although not at the forefront of the battle, in many ways the tugs were just as afflicted by conflict and the conditions. Little scholarly attention has been paid to the tugs that laboured to bring damaged and partly sunken ships back to port, so Neish has addressed this omission. It is especially fascinating to learn more about the role of tugs in Operation Pluto – the laying of the undersea fuel pipeline to support the Allied invasion of Europe. This was a role that tugs were uniquely suited for, and therefore an example of their specialized construction and vital importance. The contrast of their peacetime roles highlights that the nature of their work remained crucial to the movement of merchant shipping and even in rescuing downed aircrafts. To this end, it might have been effective for the author to emphasize the importance of the tug and to state it plainly in a concluding chapter.
In the opening three chapters, Neish offers context to the shipbuilding process, Battle of the Atlantic and attacks on convoys, which necessitated tugs to go out and rescue the stricken ships and their crews. This initial explanation of the plight of convoys and the role of tugs in the development of Operation Pluto is essential for underpinning the purpose of the book and, to some extent, these chapters are the most fascinating in charting the story of the Bustler class’s development. What follows is an examination of each of the tugs in turn, describing the construction, service history and recollections of seamen aboard each vessel. This is accompanied by ample photographs and illustrations throughout, which support the explanations. This is concluded with a summary of the technical specifications of each tug, facilitating a comparison of the length of their service and armament, although as they were built to a specification, most other technical details are the same. Many of the tugs were sold overseas and had an unceremonious end, but their general longevity is emphasized, with a narrative timeline from inception to scrapping.
However, there are several shortcomings with the book, which means that it falls short of expectations. There are unfortunately a few spelling errors and missing or repeated words throughout: a misused ‘of’ (46), the wrong spelling of ‘sail’ (2), and the repetition of a whole paragraph, which interrupts the flow of the text (72). There is also some repetition within the text, such as the explanation of Operation Pluto (55), which has already been satisfactorily dealt with in the earlier context chapter (17). Figures 14 and 22 are repetitions of the same image from the Imperial War Museum but sourced from Wikipedia and thus of low quality (20, 31). These are issues that could have been rectified during the editing process, and it is not clear why this would have been overlooked. The chronology and ideas jump about at times, which is amplified by the short paragraphs, such as the initial introduction to HMRT Hesperia, which feels especially staccato (71). There is a limited bibliography, and much material is drawn from websites, including Wikipedia. Indeed, much is taken from Neish's own website and blog. While this is no reflection on the author's personal depth of knowledge, which is no doubt extensive, it limits the scope for further scholarly reading and in-depth analysis. It is for this reason that this book would be most appropriate for those with a general interest in Bustler-class tugs who wish to gain an overview of their service, rather than for scholars wishing to gain an in-depth understanding of the role of tugs within wider naval policy or experiences of naval service, for example. The inclusion of quotations throughout and at the end of each chapter is a welcome addition, as first-hand accounts generally create a rounded view of the life of each ship. However, in many instances, the quotes chosen do not add greatly to the story, such as that from Ray Gill – ‘I sailed on the Bustler in 1967’ (36) – or James Sandison – ‘My father James Andrew Sandison … served on the Growler for most of the war’ (70). They are largely just tagged on, and it may have been more valuable if they could have been woven into the story of the ship or chosen to substantiate the conditions aboard ship to a greater extent. The longer accounts extracted from diaries that are included offer a welcome first-hand insight and occupy much of the latter chapters.
In summary, this is an accessible glimpse into the life and work of these undoubtedly important vessels. It highlights the role of the Bustler-class tug and the crews who saved many lives and perpetually lived to fight another day themselves. Despite the highlighted issues, it begins to address a gap in the existing literature regarding the importance of rescue tugs, and will hopefully prompt further investigation into tugs across a broader chronology and with greater context.