Submarines in the shadows: The last voyage of the Ballarat

HMAT Ballarat departed Melbourne for England on 19 February 1917, its fourth voyage from Australia since being requisitioned as a troopship.

Ballarat carried an estimated 1,740 troops, including Corporal James Kenneth Donald of the 2nd Section, Australian Railway Troops. Corporal Donald kept a personal diary during the voyage that is now held with the Official Historian Arthur W. Jose’s papers in the Research Centre’s Official Records collection.

Recalling the vessel’s departure, Donald wrote, “A good many of those on board had to brush away a tear or two as the time for parting drew near.” Ballarat lingered only briefly, as soldiers and families came to terms with the painful reality that they might never be reunited.

Ballarat entered Fremantle at 5.15 pm on 24 February. The troops, granted leave, received a warm reception from the people of Perth. Donald noted, “the same sort of hospitality is very little seen in Victoria.”

Ballarat slipped away in the early hours of 1 March and began the long voyage towards its next destination, South Africa. Though the days were filled with new and varied experiences, many of those on Ballarat felt a deep sense of isolation.

At times, the ship’s distance from land meant that news of the war was unavailable for several days. To distract themselves, soldiers took part in or watched sporting competitions.

Other activities, such as lectures on the progress of the war and weekly church services, provided diversion and preparation for the challenges of combat. Many of the men were disappointed to learn that they would not be making port in Durban, stopping only in Cape Town.

Their disappointment faded at daybreak, when the distant peak of Table Mountain — Cape Town’s most famous landmark — emerged from the mist. Donald captured the moment vividly, “The sun rise in the mist was really fine and we saw the Mountain at its best with the clouds hanging low just on the top forming the famous ‘Table Cloth’.”

On 10 April, Ballarat departed Cape Town, joining a convoy for the final leg of the voyage. The threat of submarines loomed during the passage to England and orders were issued instructing all men on board to wear or at least carry their lifebelts. Submarine observation crews, consisting of senior non-commissioned officers, were appointed to keep watch for enemy submarines between sunrise and sunset.

The day of 25 April 1917 began like many others on Ballarat. Despite the increased danger, the soldiers were in good spirits because their destination, Devonport, was only 24 hours away. They were looking forward to being ashore after a two-month voyage from Australia.

Even the sighting of a submarine at 9 am could not dampen the mood, as the convoy’s destroyer escort reinforced the perception that Ballarat was safe.

The calm was shattered just after 2 pm when the alarm sounded. A torpedo had been sighted racing toward the vessel from around 500 yards away. Moments later, “a dull thud was heard,” and, Donald recorded, “the torpedo struck us about 12 yards from the stern”.

Ballarat was limping, about 90 miles away from Devonport. Being struck by the torpedo caused panic and excitement, but the troops ensured a speedy evacuation by assembling at their designated lifeboat positions, leaving behind their personal possessions. Most were eventually rescued by British destroyers HMS Hardy and HMS Phoenix.

A small minesweeper picked up the remaining crew from boats that had drifted away. The following day the crew was informed that Ballarat had gone down, dashing any hopes that their belongings might be saved.

That not a single life was lost in the sinking of the Ballarat stands as a lasting testament to the extraordinary courage of the ship’s crew and the troops on board.

Concluding his diary, James Kenneth Donald wrote, “In looking back, one cannot help but feel proud of his gallant comrades of that eventful trip and to know that one and all in some manner, did his bit.”