Orders, Decorations and Medals

An exceptional Second World War D.S.C. group for the fall of Singapore awarded to Commander I.D.S. Forbes, H.M.S. Grasshopper, Royal Navy

DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS, G.VI.R., officially dated '1946'; 1939-45 STAR; ATLANTIC STAR; AFRICA STAR; PACIFIC STAR, clasp, Burma; WAR MEDAL; NAVAL GENERAL SERVICE 1915-62, 2 clasps, S.E. Asia 1945-46, Palestine 1945-48 (Lieut., R.N.); CORONATION 1953, together with a companion group of miniature dress medals, very fine (16)

D.S.C., London Gazette, 29 January 1946: 'For great courage whilst serving in H.M. Ships Grasshopper and Stronghold in the face of a superior Japanese force off Sinkep Island in February 1942.'

Commander Ian Dudley Stewart Forbes, D.S.C., entered the Royal Navy as a Cadet in January 1937, receiving promotion to Sub. Lieutenant in May 1939 and Lieutenant in October 1940. Shortly afterwards he joined H.M.S. Prince of Wales, which battleship he was aboard when she was lost to Japanese aircraft on 10 December 1941. In his excellent account of this famous incident, ‘Battleship’ (pub. Allen Lane, Penguin Books, 1977), Martin Middlebrook ascertained from Forbes confirmation of the unfortunate stoppages which inhibited the proper use of the pom-pom guns (aka. 'Chicago pianos') aboard the Prince of Wales. Forbes, who commanded the pom-pom atop B Turret, later recalled how it jammed just as a low-flying Japanese aircraft passed by. He reckoned it could have been shot down with ease. But such tribulations aside, little could have saved the Prince of Wales or Repulse. The failure to immediately signal for air support had sealed their fate. As the mighty battleship commenced her final plunge to the seabed, Forbes was lucky to reach the water and climb onto a Carley float. He was joined by Lieutenant-Commander Colin McMullen. Middlebrook records Forbes' modest account of awaiting rescue: 'We had an agreeable time there for, perhaps, two hours as rescue operations were conducted by the escorting destroyers. We were fully aware that the Japanese planes would not return (Why should they?) and so there was an air of pleasurable release, sitting in a warm and sunlit sea. A British aircraft flew over from time to time, which was greeted with waving and ribald remarks. This, I believe, was reported as being a sign of wonderful morale. I don't suppose our morale was any different from the rest of the Fleet but, when released from such an event, no one solemnly considers, at that moment, the vast historic implications, such as the fall of Singapore, the total ending of all Colonial possessions, etc. All hands are happy to be alive and to wave and cheer accordingly.'

At length, Forbes was picked up and taken back to Singapore. But the unpredictable nature of this theatre of war would soon pitch him back into the water on at least two more occasions. That in itself was nothing unusual for Naval officers of the 1941-42 vintage, or certainly not those who found themselves out in the Far East: on one occasion, when Roosevelt had met Churchill on board the Prince of Wales, Forbes struck up a few notes on his bagpipes to entertain other American guests who were being subjected to a riotous party in the Wardroom. One of the visitors commented to an officer, amid the noise and games, 'I guess you boys take this war very lightly.' Little could he have known the same officer had already been sunk three times, or indeed that he would be sunk three more times before the year was out. Initially, however, rather like the Royal Marines rescued from Prince of Wales and Repulse, Forbes would appear to have been enlisted for shore duties in defence of Singapore. Among other tasks, he was designated a beachmaster for the eastern side of the causeway which joined Singapore island to the mainland. Sadly a record of his subsequent services during the final days of British occupation are unknown. However, on the 14 February 1942, during the final moments of the naval evacuation, he was seconded for duty aboard H.M.S. Grasshopper.

On that date she departed the doomed island with a crew of seventy-four, in addition to nine Japanese P.O.W's, some Royal Marines and civilians, including two Dutch women in the final stages of pregnancy and another who was blind. Her departure had been a telling ordeal, under heavy attack in the burning docks, and her diverse human cargo was liberally sprinkled with wounded. Originally built for the Yangtze Flotilla in 1939, the Grasshopper was a 585 ton, flat-bottomed paddleboat. In company with her sister ship Dragonfly, she had the added responsibility of escorting two other paddleboats and a tug, also laden with civilians and a motley mixture of servicemen. As the little convoy edged its way towards the Berhala Straits, and the first rays of daybreak emerged from a seemingly empty sky, Commander Hoffman, the convoy C.O., altered course for the cover of some islands. He only dared sail under cover of darkness. But as this precautionary manoeuvre was in the making, out of the sky came a solitary Japanese bomber. Grasshopper’s brace of three-pounders swung into action, accompanied by an assortment of rifle and bren-gun fire, but sadly all in vain three bombs found their mark, crashing through the decks before exploding. The scene below was indescribable. Then around midday, as the crippled Grasshopper was but a few hundred yards off an island, nearly thirty Japanese aircraft returned to deliver the coup de grace. Ironically she was to be the last of the convoy to sink. In the first few moments of the action, the tug disappeared in a large cloud after a direct hit. Meanwhile the paddleboats and H.M.S. Dragonfly were seen to capsize in rapid succession, the latter in just three minutes, with appalling loss of life. Shaking under a series of near misses, the Grasshopper's rivets popped. Then she was punished by eleven hits, just 300 yards ftom a beach. The ensuing scramble for survival, amid scenes of suffering which defy description, was met by Japanese strafing. Many died in the water, others were cut down on the beach. By the time the enemy aircraft had completed their murderous activities, a mere two dozen survivors had made it to the cover of the jungle.

Lieutenant Forbes was among them. So too Commander Hoffman, badly wounded, and, incredibly, the two pregnant Dutch women and their blind compatriot. An immediate search of the island revealed no sign of other life but soon afterwards a lifeboat came into view. It contained another twenty survivors, all ftom the Dragonfly, who had landed at another island. At this stage, Forbes and two others swam to the neighbouring island, where a Malay fisherman was persuaded to take them all to Sinkep. From here, in a number of local boats, they made for Pedang, and, after further adventures, some of them got clean away ftom the encircling Japanese. Once again Forbes was among the survivors. But his luck was running out. Just two weeks after departing Singapore, he found himself aboard H.M.S. Stronghold, a destroyer of Great War vintage. On 28 February 1942 she became embroiled in the disastrous battle of Java Sea, a costly and protracted action which went on until the first day of March. At first it seemed she had escaped and a course was set for Australia. Then on 2 March, in a situation all too familiar to Forbes, she was met, and engaged by a far superior Japanese force. Once more the gallant Lieutenant was compelled to take to the water, being picked up, with a handful of ratings. As a P.O.W. of the Japanese for the next three years, he would witness the death of another five of Stronghold's ratings. In a post-war career which extended another twenty years, Forbes was promoted to Lieutenant-Commander in 1948 and Commander in 1954. He enjoyed several sea-going appointments somewhat drier than his wartime ones and was several times employed by the Naval Intelligence Department. His final posting was to N.A.T.O. in 1964, soon after which he received a richly deserved pension.