There is one function that cats have fulfilled since time immemorial, though, and that is as ship's cats, where they kept the vessel's stores free from rodents and also acted as mascots and companions to the crew. They were especially important in wartime, when supplies could be short, and men were far from home for extended periods and welcomed feline companionship. Sadly, since 1975 the British Royal Navy has banned cats, and indeed all animals, from its ships.
Many of these wartime tales are short and without photos, as they date from decades ago now; information is sparse and snippets have been gleaned from many sources.
From the many stories involving cats at sea during wartime, here are some we have come across. They are largely from Britain and World War 2, and are in alphabetical order of the ships; however, British Admiralty documents from World War 1 show significant sums paid out during that conflict, too, for the annual maintenance of cats to keep down rats on board ship.
HMS Anson. The claim to fame of Annie, wardroom cat of this battleship, was the number of kittens she produced during an especially long voyage. Presumably there was at least one tomcat aboard too — but when the vessel finally returned to port there were found to be more than 50 kittens, mostly looking remarkably like Annie!
HMS Argonaut. Ship's cat Minnie from this cruiser was one of the most travelled of naval cats. She joined the crew early in 1944 from Tyneside, in north-east England, and among many other pets that came and went she stood out and became indisputably 'the ship's cat'. A bit of a loner, she took no special friends and seemed to regard the whole ship as her domain; she'd sleep on the mess-decks just as happily as in the captain's cabin. Minnie was a tabby, with immaculate white paws and breast. Her first action was at the D-Day invasion of the Normandy beaches, where none of the pandemonium appeared to affect her routine of sleeping, eating and doing her rounds. Subsequently she sailed with Argonaut to the French Riviera; to Palermo, in Sicily; Colombo and Trincomalee in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka); the Dutch East Indies; Sydney and Fremantle in Australia; several of the larger Pacific island groups; and when news of the Japanese surrender was received in 1945, her ship was off Tokyo.
Lengthy peacetime voyages then followed; but after 2½ years 'before the mast' Minnie disappeared while the ship was in Singapore. She had previously gone missing in Hong Kong, where she was eventually found aboard another warship in the harbour — so it is thought she may have become fed up with Argonaut's long and monotonous voyages and sought adventure elsewhere. The ship waited until the last minute before having to sail without her, and she was sorely missed. A signal was sent to the Commander of the naval base to request her return to the UK if found — but she never was.
HMS Aurora carried among her armaments four of the 4-inch quickfire guns shown in the photo, which dates from September 1914. The kitten, name unknown, is sitting on the gun's shell tray (right).
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the National Maritime Museum, London.
HMS Barham. Like many warships, this 'Dreadnought' battleship boasted both a ship's dog and a ship's cat (left), who were apparently friendly enough to have their photo taken together in about 1916.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the National Maritime Museum, London.
HMS Belfast had a kitten on board at one stage (outer right), and in 1942/3 a cat called Frankenstein. The second photo shows sailors of Belfast with a young cat (inner right), which may be Frankenstein, on the starboard side of 'A' turret in about 1942.
Inner right image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
Bismarck, the German battleship, was sunk on 27 May 1941. Of more than 2200 men on board, only 116 survived — together with Oscar, the ship's cat (left). He was picked up by the British destroyer HMS Cossack, but that too was torpedoed a few months later, on 24 October, with the loss of 159 lives. Attempts to rescue the ship failed, and it was abandoned and sank two days later. Oscar survived again, was taken to Gibraltar, and then was taken on by HMS Ark Royal. His stay there was even shorter, as the aircraft carrier was torpedoed by U-81 on 13 November, eventually capsizing and sinking only 30 miles (50 km) from Gibraltar. Yet again Oscar was lucky — but there were no more ships for him, as it was decided that his presence was certainly not lucky! By now known as Unsinkable Sam, this great survivor among cats stayed as mouse-catcher in the Governor General of Gibraltar's office buildings until he was taken by a brave ship to Belfast, in Northern Ireland (although some reports say Plymouth). There he lived until his death in 1955, at the 'Home for Sailors'. A portrait of him has a place of honour in the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, on the River Thames near London.
Some serious researchers of the matter believe that the tale of Oscar as given above, while it makes a marvellous story, is what would probably today be called an 'urban myth', and is highly unlikely to have happened in that way, or even at all. The reasons are several:
1. None of the survivors from Bismarck remembers there being such a cat on the ship — not even the Baron, who would have been in its likely home of the wardroom.
2. There is no photographic or documentary evidence of a cat on board (and there are plenty of surviving photos of and from Bismarck).
3. A small animal like a cat in the sea could not have reached a rescue ship. Both of the rescue ships present (neither of which was the Cossack, incidentally) were high-sided vessels, and Bismarck's survivors, covered in oil, had to climb ropes in heavy seas to reach safety — so how could an extremely wet cat have got on board? A sailor would not have been able to reach down and pick it up, either. And no cat could have survived for long, drenched through and very cold, to be picked up later.
4. Human survival instincts make it extremely unlikely that any sailor, German or British, as much as they liked their mascots, would have rescued an animal under the very poor conditions at the time, when all efforts were being concentrated on saving human lives.
5. The Ark Royal part of the tale sounds similarly unlikely. On that occasion the ship sank very slowly; there was time to evacuate all survivors in an orderly way, and no one had to be rescued from wreckage. If there had been a cat alive, unless it hid itself very well, it would not have had to be in the water at all.
6. Lastly, there seem to be two different versions of Oscar! Our photo above, although copied a number of times, definitely shows a striped tabby. However, there is a painting in the British National Maritime Museum, supposedly of Oscar, that shows a 'tuxedo' (black-and-white) cat. They cannot both be correct — but is either of them? Did Oscar ever exist, or was he the figment of someone's fertile imagination?
(Many thanks to Frank Allen of the HMS Hood Association for supplying the information above.)
HMS Black Prince. Her ship's cat, named Beauty, was another feline present at the D-Day landings. While the ship's guns were busy bombarding the Normandy coast, Beauty chose to give birth to three healthy kittens. The captain, impressed, said that she 'carried on with magnificent indifference to her surroundings'.
HMS Bulldog. Smokey was ship's mascot here, and had her moment of fame when the battleship, one of two — the other was HMS Beagle — sailed to the Channel Islands in 1945 to accept the surrender of the German occupation forces there. As the ship approached the waterfront, which was lined by wildly cheering islanders, Smokey was sitting at one of her vantage points watching the scene with interest. A BBC radio commentator, reporting the event to the world, noticed her and referred to her presence as 'a symbol of the importance servicemen and -women attached to their animal friends'. Subsequently thousands of eager listeners wrote in to enquire about her!
HMS Chester took part in the Battle of Jutland in May 1916; on board were the ship's cat Hoskyn and the captain's sheepdog, the latter being wounded during the action. After the battle Surgeon Lieutenant Brownfield of the ship's medical staff was presented with this cushion cover picturing Hoskyn, embroidered by one of the crew.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the National Maritime Museum, London.
Demosthenes: this was a WW1 troopship, perhaps formerly the White Star liner of that name. The photograph (outer left) shows members of the Australian Army 15th Battalion leaving Australia for England on the ship on 20 December 1916. The third soldier from the left at the front is holding a cat (enlargement, inner left).
HMS Duke of York. The German battle cruiser Scharnhorst was sunk on Boxing Day 1943 by Duke of York and other Royal Navy ships; out of the German crew of almost 2000 there were but 36 survivors. Whisky, the tabby mascot of Duke of York, slept through the whole of the action; after all, it was time for her afternoon nap, so that's what she did! She had a reputation as a formidable ratcatcher when she was awake.
HMS Eagle had this kitten (left) who, like a number of ship's cats, relaxed in his own hammock, made by the vessel's sail-maker. The photo dates from 1945.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
Empire Winnie was a steam rescue tug with two mascots: tomcat Tommy and black female Lucky. They had no problems with being at sea, and made numerous trips between Normandy and the Channel ports on D-Day and afterwards. By Christmas of 1944, though, the ship was due for a refit and the crew for some shore leave; she returned to her base on Tyneside, and a watchman from ashore was engaged to 'keep an eye' and look after the cats. But Lucky seemed to miss her crewmates, and not long before they were due to return, she abandoned ship and disappeared; extensive searches of the dockyard area failed to find her. The men were very upset, as she had been very popular as well as being an excellent ratcatcher. Tom was also highly thought of, but unfortunately they lost him too, as he was not aboard when the tug was called out suddenly on an urgent mission. Later it was discovered that he had joined another tug — or possibly had been 'coaxed' aboard — and he was thought to have continued going to sea.
HMAS Encounter was a cruiser built in Britain early in the twentieth century and transferred into the Australian Navy in 1912. She took part in WW1, which she survived. Her ship's cat, name unknown (right), is seen here sitting in the muzzle of one of the ship's 6-inch guns.
HMS Exeter's cat was Scouse, a handsome white with tabby blotches; there is a fine painting of him in the National Maritime Museum, but we are unable to reproduce it here owing to copyright difficulties. Exeter took part in the action that resulted in the scuttling of the German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee off South America, in December 1939; suffering extensive damage and heavy casualties, she was nevertheless able to return to Plymouth by February 1940 — and Scouse was first down the gangplank!
HMS Hawkins. We'll squeeze in this delightful pair, possibly siblings, who were ship's cats on board the light cruiser, although actually the ship was built in 1917 and did not see service in WW1. She served on the China Station in 1919-20 as the flagship of the Commander-in-Chief. From a verse in the ship's magazine of the time, one of the cats was called Tibby, but we don't know which one or the name of the other.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the National Maritime Museum, London.
HMS Hermione. This anti-aircraft cruiser was launched in 1939, and went into service a few months later with ship's cat Convoy, seen here in his hammock during November 1941 while the ship was docked in Gibraltar. 'Convoy' had full kit and was listed in the ship's book; he was so called because of the number of times he had accompanied the ship on convoy patrol. Unfortunately Hermione was sunk by U-205 in the eastern Mediterranean in June 1944 and presumably the cat perished.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
HMS Hood. When commissioned in 1920 the battleship Hood was the largest warship afloat. Over the years she had a number of mascots of varying species, including a wallaby, a macaw — and these two fine felines, known as Ginger and Fishcakes (left). Ginger was a large, ginger-and-white male and Fishcakes a smaller 'tuxedo' cat. Although they were known to have been aboard throughout the 1930s, not much else is known about them. It is also not known for sure whether they were still aboard the ship at the time of its loss in 1941. The latest known photo of either cat was of Fishcakes aboard the ship in late 1940, so it is quite likely that they both perished with the ship, the sinking of which was accompanied by huge loss of human life.
Photos reproduced with the kind permission of HMS Hood Association.
HMS Irresistible. This is Togo of the battleship Irresistible, posing in the muzzle of a 12-inch gun in 1905 (left). The photo and accompanying details were kindly sent to us by Robert W. Green. Mr Green's grandfather, William Thomas Clegg, AB, served on the Irresistible between July 1905 and the end of 1906, and apart from his assigned duties as a gun layer it was his responsibility to look after the ship's mascot, 'Ordinary Sea Cat Togo' (a title written by AB Clegg on the back of the photo). Togo certainly qualifies as a wartime cat, because he remained with the ship until she was sunk by a mine off the Turkish coast during the Dardanelles engagement in 1915. Leading Stoker William Burrows made a heroic attempt to save the cat, but sadly both he and Togo drowned. The second photo (right), also from Mr Green, shows Togo to better effect, and he was clearly a very handsome cat.
SS Julia was one of only two Belgian merchant ships to take part in the 1944 D-Day landings of WW2, when she carried munitions, explosives and a New York infantry division for Omaha beach. Ship's cat Peggy was black and white, and had a canine pal in the captain's dog, Mireau. Very shy at first, Peggy felt at home with the crew before long, but her best friend was Mireau. (The dog later went missing when the Julia berthed in England, but was found in Portsmouth.) Both animals were terrified by all the noise and hid during the invasion. Our photo shows Peggy in the arms of Robert van Damme, Julia's first officer, before D-Day; we are indebted to his daughter Jeanine Hardcastle, of Brussels, for passing it on together with information about the ship.
HMAS Kanimbla was a WW2 landing craft. The cat's name is not recorded, but as with many naval felines a dedicated hammock went with the job, and the occupant certainly looks relaxed! (left)
HMS King George V was the battleship that sailed at the head of Britain's 'Grand Fleet' to the Battle of Jutland in May 1916. On board was ship's cat Jimmy, a large, long-haired, tortoiseshell type who had been adopted by one of the ship's cooks when his former owner, an Australian soldier, had been wounded and was no longer able to look after him. Jimmy suffered severe damage to his left ear when a shell exploded near him on deck and he was hit by a piece of shrapnel. Later he was transferred to HMS Renown (see below).
HMS Ladybird was a river gunboat launched in 1916, but was pressed into service in WW2 in the Mediterranean. Her ship's cat was Cinders, who probably perished when the ship was sunk off Libya in May 1941.
HM Landing Craft T166. The unlikely mascot of this vessel was Susan, a black-and-white cat; in fact, there were two mascots, as there was also Bosun, a boisterous mongrel dog. Susan was given to a lieutenant on the craft shortly before sailing one day and, being a former street cat, was found to have fleas. Not wishing to transfer these unwelcome guests to the wardroom, and having no flea powder, the officer bathed Susan in warm disinfectant! She appeared to be none the worse and soon settled down to become a favourite of the crew along with Bosun, with whom she became friends. The animals saw several engagements in the English Channel and were in on the action on D-Day.
Susan became such a dyed-in-the-wool sea cat that when the war ended and she was taken ashore, she didn't like dry land at all; grass, in particular, terrified her! Eventually, though, she did settle down to being a 'landlubber' at her home in Ireland, where she loved playing in the garden with her companions of a Yorkshire terrier, two Siamese cats and her own son — named Bosun, after her friend who had died just before war ended.
LSTs (Landing Ships, Tank): Camouflage, pictured here on 30 March 1945, was the mascot of a US Coastguard LST operating in the Pacific. His shipmates swore that when the craft was being strafed by Japanese planes with tracer bullets, Camouflage's idea of fun was to chase the bullets from one ship's rail to the other as they pinged across the deck. He never caught one, which is probably just as well as it sounds a highly risky occupation; but his antics kept the crew amused and helped to relieve their tension in difficult times. He is pictured (left) with Coast Guardsman Henry Richmond Jr.
On another LST, Tarawa was named after the atoll in the central Pacific Ocean, previously part of the former British colony of the Gilbert and Ellice Islands, where she was rescued as a frightened and half-starved kitten from a smashed pillbox during the WW2 battle there. She was taken aboard and installed in the officers' quarters, where she looks fairly relaxed about the whole thing (inner right)! Kodiak, the ship's canine mascot, however, didn't think much of this intruder in his domain, and the two didn't get along (outer right), so he stuck with the enlisted men and Tarawa decided she preferred her privileges with the officers! When the vessel returned home for a spell she jumped ship — so Kodiak had his 'empire' to himself again.
HMS Manxman was a WW2 minesweeper, reported once to be the Royal Navy's fastest vessel. Naturally the ship had a Manx cat as mascot, but the holders of the post don't seem to have been very lucky. The first, taken on when the ship was commissioned, was lost at sea during the war. A replacement was taken on when the ship visited the Isle of Man on an official visit, but it too was lost at sea. Further peacetime mascots seem to have fared little better, and the next two did not live out their natural lifespan either.
Merrimack, the third ship to bear the name, was a fleet oiler acquired by the United States Navy in 1941; commissioned in 1942, she served in both the Atlantic and Pacific during World War II and gained eight battle stars. She had two ship's cats (left), appropriately named Mary and Mack.
HMS Neptune. A World War 1 battleship of 20,000 tons, Neptune had a handsome black mascot called Side Boy (right). He featured on one of the 'lucky black cat' postcards, popular at the time, which crew members could send home to their loved ones. Perhaps he did bring luck, as the ship survived the war.
HMAS Nizam had two cats in June 1941, when the photo was taken (left). The ship was owned by Britain but sailed under the Australian flag during WW2. She was named after the Nizam of Hyderabad, who helped to pay for her.
HMS Orion. On board here was intrepid ship's cat Nigger, who insisted on staying on the bridge to keep an eye on things while the ship was involved in the shelling of Salerno, in Italy, in September 1943. But the following month, a letter written by Orion's commander said, 'Unfortunately Nigger is not with us at present. He wished to remain on active service in the Mediterranean, so he was temporarily allowed to transfer to one of His Majesty's battleships in the sphere of operations. We hope, however, to have him back before long.' But the cat did not return, or appear on any other of HM's ships — so maybe he just preferred a Mediterranean lifestyle on land!
HMAS Perth served in the Mediterranean during the early years of WW2 and then returned to Australia. Before long she was needed in the Pacific to help combat the Japanese advance across south-east Asia. She left Sydney in January 1942, stopping en route at Fremantle in Western Australia. It seems likely that is where a small black kitten joined the crew as mascot and was named, for some reason, Red Lead.
He quickly became a favourite and, as cats do, found the most comfortable spot to sleep — in Captain Waller's cabin. At the end of February battle was joined with a Japanese convoy attempting to make a landing on the island of Java; Allied ships were badly outnumbered and in the fierce fighting that followed many were badly damaged, and some were sunk. The noise and chaos of battle, which included aircraft flying close overhead, frightened Red Lead and he spent the entire time in 'his' cabin, until Perth finally withdrew and returned to harbour.
At that point the kitten seems to have decided that he'd had enough of battle and that it would be prudent to seek a quieter and safer home. He crept quietly down the gangplank, but unfortunately for him a sailor saw him and brought him back on deck, ignoring his loud protests. He tried again, and again — three times he tried unsuccessfully to leave. It was a bad omen, and the sailors knew it.
Perth sailed into battle again the following day and met a large fleet of Japanese warships. This time she was not so lucky; she was sunk, with the loss of Captain Waller and 350 other crewmen — and a small black kitten called Red Lead.
HMS Poppy was a 'Flower' class corvette on Atlantic convoy duties, and her ship's cat was Monty. He is shown here in 1944 (right) when the ship was in the Hebrides, in Scotland, with a large fish that had been killed by a depth charge.
HMS Prince of Wales. In August of 1941 Winston Churchill, Britain's wartime prime minister, was meeting President Roosevelt of the USA on board this battleship while it was positioned off the coast of Newfoundland; they were discussing the Atlantic Charter. Churchill noticed the ship's large, black cat Blackie apparently about to desert in favour of the American ship Augusta, moored alongside, whereupon he immediately bent down to stroke the cat (left) and stopped him from leaving. Churchill was very fond of cats and at the time had his own 'Nelson' at home.
Blackie was, of course, straight away renamed Churchill and was a much loved mascot. When the ship was sunk later that year off Malaya by the Japanese, with great loss of life, Churchill the cat managed to make it ashore with some of the crew to Sime Road Royal Air Force Station in Singapore. He settled in with them, shared their rations and moved camp with them. But in February 1942 orders came to evacuate Singapore within hours and Churchill, off on one of his hunting trips, could not be found in time. Despite extensive searches, he finally had to be left to his fate.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
ORP Pioron was a Polish WW2 destroyer. Ship's cats Zaba ('Frog') and Tygrya ('Tiger') are being encouraged to make friends with a stowaway thought to have escaped from an oiler. Polish sailors make a big fuss of their pets, as it is considered an ill omen if cats voluntarily leave a ship before it sails.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
HMS Renown. Formerly ship's cat of HMS King George V (see above), Jimmy was transferred in September 1916 to this battle cruiser, where he became ship's mascot and was reportedly usually to be found in the galley (well, he had been a cook's cat!). He was later 'decommissioned', and he died in 1924 in a Chelsea cats' home in London.
HMS Scorpion. The tomcat mascot of one of the messes on Scorpion was called Thomas Oscar and was spoiled rotten! As with many ship's cats, he had his own hammock complete with mattress, blanket and pillow — but he also had a kitbag, an 'HMS' cap ribbon that he wore round his neck on Sundays, and a rabbit-tail toy that he loved to play with. In October 1944 the crew of No. 3 Mess applied for Thomas Oscar to be enrolled in the Allied Forces Mascot Club, with his own pawmark at the foot of the application. This Able-Bodied Cat participated in several Russian convoys, a raid in Norway, and he was at a beachhead offensive on D-Day. He was never seasick, always cheerful and a great companion and source of comfort to the men.
HM SGB-7. This was a steam gunboat, launched on the river Clyde in Scotland in 1941. One winter's night, when it was snowing and bitterly cold, crew members were unloading boxes of ammunition from railway wagons and carrying them to the boat. Someone heard a strange noise, and called on his mates to stop cursing and grumbling for a moment; there was a faint mewing, and by using a torch the men located a small, cold and pathetic kitten hiding under one of the wagons. 'Poor little b------!' someone said, picking it up and putting it under his jersey.
Back on board on the mess-deck, the freezing cat was gently warmed up by putting it in one of the galley's warm ovens with the door open, and then on top of a bulkhead heater. A bowl of evaporated milk with a dash of rum in it was quickly lapped up — and the little soul became a mess-deck resident and a crew member, although he never had a proper name other than That Bloody Cat. In his own way he showed quite warlike behaviour: whenever the Action Stations alarm sounded, he would rush towards the bridge, spitting and snarling all the way! And he would always be around when the time came for the rum ration to be issued.
TBC liked to be 'first ashore and last aboard' in port, and used the forward torpedo tubes as his launch pad for disembarking and returning; he would often come flying down the jetty at the last minute, to leap aboard as the vessel started to move off. Unfortunately, after some months on board, he misjudged his departure one day when coming into port, slipped on the rounded surface of the torpedo tube and fell into the sea. Despite prompt action by a sailor (who had been described as 'the worst, dyed-in-the-wool villain') who immediately jumped in after him, TBC could not be found and must have drowned.
HMS Shark. This undated picture (right) shows Lyddite, the feline mascot of HMS Shark. We presume it refers to the World War I destroyer of that name, which was torpedoed and lost at the battle of Jutland on 31 May 1916. If so, Lyddite probably perished along with most of the ship's crew.
HMAS Sleuth (formerly Vigilant) was an Australian WW2 patrol boat; she had a black ship's cat called Minnie.
HMS Shropshire was a 'London' class cruiser launched in Britain in 1928. She gained a number of battle honours in WW2, later being involved in prisoner-of-war repatriation. Her cat Sarah (left)was another feline with her own hammock, including her personal mattress, blanket and pillow. She is said to have been 'spoiled rotten' by the crew!
HMS Snowflake was a 'Flower' class corvette on Atlantic convoy duties, and one of the crew later recalled some memories of ship's cat U-Boat. He didn't know how the cat came on board, but said he was an 'incredible little animal' who taught himself things. Like many other Royal Navy cats, U-Boat had his own little hammock and lifejacket, and he was listed on the ship's complement. When 'action stations' was called, the cat would make a beeline for the flour bin in the galley and would stay up on top of it until the action was over.
At the end of a voyage, U-Boat went ashore as soon as the ship had tied up in harbour — but somehow he knew when it was due to sail again and reappeared shortly beforehand. On one memorable occasion he hadn't returned by sailing time, and half the crew were talking of jumping ship, as it was considered extremely unlucky to sail without the mascot; but then, just as Snowflake was casting off, a little grey shape came hurtling down the jetty, made a flying leap across the widening gap of several feet between ship and shore, just made it onto the deck and then calmly sat down to wash himself.
On another occasion, after U-Boat had been on board about a year, someone decided he should have a birthday, and on such an occasion it was customary to provide some rum. The cat was given some, mixed with evaporated milk, in a saucer and lapped it all up. It made him quite drunk, and he ended up with a terrible hangover! He eventually slept it off, and would never touch rum again.
U-Boat left the ship in rather strange circumstances. Normally a very clean cat, he always 'did his business' on the upper deck, where it would be cleaned up by the crew, but one day, for some unknown reason, he made a mess on the captain's wardroom chair. The captain put him on report and, to cut the tale short, the upshot was that the captain decided U-Boat was to be put ashore when the ship reached Newfoundland and was not to be allowed back on board.
The crew felt this judgement was 'over the top' and were not at all happy about it. But the extraordinary thing was that the cat seemed to make his own decision. When Snowflake tied up at St John's he went ashore, as was his custom — and didn't return. The crew never saw him again.
HMAS Sydney: AB J.T. Walker of the Royal Australian Navy is pictured (left) with his puppy 'Shrapnel' in July 1940, while AB Gamble holds his kitten Salvo (interesting choice of names! — Ed.)
HM Tank Landing Craft No. 5 was involved in the abortive British raid on Dieppe, France, in 1942. Sooty RN, Ship's Cat First Class (right), was a small black-and-white female attached as mascot to the vessel and was just ten weeks old at the time. The craft was hit by enemy fire while retreating, caught fire and was sinking when Sooty managed to swim clear. She clung on to a surviving crewman's steel helmet until both were rescued by a flakship. She was the only animal to accompany the force involved in that ill-fated operation, and was said to have behaved throughout in a seacat-like manner, taking little notice of all the noise and confusion. Our photo was contributed by Mrs Jeanine Hardcastle, to whom thanks; the quality is poor as it is from an old newspaper cutting, but it shows Sooty wearing a 'miniature VC' fashioned for her by her shipmates.
HMS Vernon and cats' collars. Ship's cats were actively encouraged during WW2 by the Royal Navy, although never officially listed as part of the crew. However, cats being cats, of course they tended to change ships quite often, so to try to bring some order into the chaos it was decreed by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty that 'all cats in naval establishments must wear collars at all times'. The collars were to have the ship's name embroidered on them, so it would be known where a cat belonged. Ominously, it was also stated that cats wearing no collar were to be 'summarily dealt with'. HMS Vernon's cat was duly supplied with his smart collar (left). However, no one seems to have considered who was going to pay for the thousands of collars that would be needed! As neither the Treasury nor the Admiralty was willing to find the funds, the order was quietly forgotten.
HMS Victorious, WW2 aircraft carrier, had a cat named Tiddles who spent his whole life on aircraft carriers, having been born at sea on another one, HMS Argus. Tiddles is seen in July 1942 at his favourite station on the aft capstan, where he enjoyed playing with the bell rope!
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
HMS Warspite. Around 1939, Stripey, tabby and white, was actually born on board the battleship, which had already seen service in World War 1. Stripey remained with the ship until it was due to be broken up in 1947, but for the last year or so she was alone on board with George Watson, the watchman. They became very attached to each other, and George was determined that the cat would not be abandoned. On Warspite's demise he was transferred to HMS Malaya, and the pair continued to sail together.
HMS Western Isles was an old Scottish inter-island ship that was based at Tobermory on the island of Mull. During WW2 Vice-Admiral Sir Gilbert Stephenson, KBE, CB, CMG (known as 'the Terror of Tobermory' because of his ruthless efficiency) used it as his headquarters when he was running a Royal Navy battle school for U-boat hunters. Ship's cat Peebles was said to be very clever, and would 'shake hands' with strangers when they entered the wardroom. Here he is 'jumping through the hoop' formed by the arms of Lt Cdr R.B. Palmer, OBE, in 1944.
Image © and reproduced by kind permission of the Imperial War Museum, London: see notice above.
Unknown ships
Pooli (left) served as a youngster aboard a United States attack transport during the latter part of World War II. This picture was taken on Independence Day in 1959, her fifteenth birthday, when Pooli, a veteran who rated three service ribbons and four battle stars, showed she could still get into her old uniform.
Toughy, Huffy and Snuffy (right) were mascots on board a British tanker vessel, and this delightful photo was taken when it was berthed at a shipyard in Brooklyn, New York, in 1944. They are investigating an old-fashioned diver's helmet.
Cats do not have a natural or important place in mankind's wars in the same way as dogs, horses and some other animals do, since (as cat owners will know!) it is very difficult to get a cat to do what you want. There were stories that the Americans tried to use cats during the Vietnam war, but they were too easily distracted and either started playing or disappeared into the jungle! However, these tales are apocryphal. During the nineteenth century it is said that the Belgians tried using cats to deliver letters — but with a marked lack of success.
Cats, being attached to a territory as much as to people, are better mascots for a ship's company — or perhaps for an air-force base — than they are for an army regiment that is likely to be on the move for much of the time during war. The story of Simon of HMS Amethyst is well known and it seems likely that one reason he did not survive in quarantine was simply that he pined so much for his ship and his friends on board. Some ships had more than one cat (and many kittens were born at sea); and ship's cats were able to, as it were, 'rise through the ranks' to become the mascot of a particular part of a ship, such as the engine room or one of the mess-decks, before going on to maybe ultimately become the 'official' mascot of the whole vessel.
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