Close to Shore, Miles from Safe: The Truxtun & Pollux Disaster

USS Truxtun, public domain.

On February 18, 1942 the world was at war. Under the cover of darkness and in radio-silence the US Navy destroyer Truxtun and supply ship Pollux were off the south coast of Newfoundland. They were due at the Argentia US Naval Base on Newfoundland’s Avalon Peninsula.

It was the middle of the night, a fierce storm was raging and there had been a mistake — the navigator made a slight miscalculation of their position. Together, the storm, the position error and radio-silence led to tragedy. Just before 4:30am, near the Burin Peninsula towns of St. Lawrence and Lawn, the ships ran aground.

The Shipwrecks

It wasn’t until the sun rose that the crews could assess their situation.

Both the Truxtun and Pollux were seriously damaged and bleeding thick, oily fuel into the water. The men realized, between the wild surf and the jagged rocks it wouldn’t be long before the ships were torn to pieces. They had to do something.

The Pollux was stranded close to Lawn Head, at the base of a steep cliff. The crew, knowing they couldn’t stay on the damaged vessel, was attempting to get to shore. The pounding surf and towering cliffs made it almost impossible — the ocean slammed their wooden lifeboats, breaking them to pieces. As the men fell into the water they were covered with the ship’s leaking oil.

The Truxton was some distance away at Chamber Cove but in a similar situation.

Chamber Cove was ringed with cliffs at least 300ft high. Nearby, there was a small, rocky beach. The crew knew making it to the beach was their best chance. Some tried to swim— they were no match for the cold waves. Finally, in a small raft, they got a rope to shore. The crew began to evacuate. As they fought against the elements they became soaked in the thick tar-like oil leaking from the ship.

To their horror, the men on shore realized that, while they escaped the wreck, they were far from rescued. The beach they found was in the middle of nowhere.

They were wet, cold and lost in a snowstorm.

Rescuing the Truxtun

USS Truxtun

USS Truxtun, public domain

Realizing their options were few, a crewman scaled the cliff and began a search for help. With no idea of where he was going, he travelled through the sleet and snow until he happend across the Iron Springs Mine — about three miles from Chambers Cove.

The miners took him in, heard his story and put a rescue plan into action. They closed the mine, gathered supplies and headed out.

Truxton rescue.

Rescuing survivors after the S.S. "Pollux" and S.S. "Truxtun" disaster near St. Lawrence, Newfoundland. Maritime History Archive, Copyright expired.

When they arrived in Chamber Cove what they saw horrified them. The remaining crew on of the Truxton were clinging to the wreck, fighting to stay alive. The ship was breaking apart. The men were falling, lost to the pounding surf.

Even some of those who made it to shore were succumbing to hypothermia. The rescue party set up ropes and began to lift the survivors from the beach. Others took to the water, forming a human chain to pull swimmers to shore.

Once on land the sailors still had to contend with cliff. The crew was in no shape to climb. The Newfoundlanders tried using ropes to pull them men up, but the sailors were too weak to push themselves away from the rock face. Pulling them up the cliffs in that condition would cause too many injuries — they would have to be carried.

One by one, the rescue party tied the injured men to their backs and scaled the cliff. It was slow, difficult work.

When they got to the top of the cliff it was another 30-minute trek, through the snow, back to the mine, where another contingent of people from St. Lawrence were waiting. They set about cleaning the oil from their bodies, feeding them and giving them fresh, dry clothes they’d brought from their own families.

  • Born in Georgia in 1923, Lanier Phillips, an African American, grew up surrounded by racism. In his late teens he decided to join the US Navy, thinking that might be a way out of the discrimination he faced at home. It didn’t turn out that way. Racial segregation kept shipmates apart and limited the roles African-Americans could play in the navy.

    Phillips was assigned to the USS Truxtun and was aboard the night it grounded off Newfoundland’s Burin Peninsula. He endured the harrowing ordeal — he was plunged in the icy water, covered in thick oil from the ship and hoisted up a sheer cliff face.

    He made it to St. Lawrence where the women of the town were working furiously to warm and clean the oil off the injured sailors.

    The white woman working on Phillips remarked that she couldn’t get the oil off him. With a great deal of fear about the community’s response Phillips told her, ‘It’s the colour of my skin.’

    Phillips’ history taught him that white people would not treat him well, so he was prepared for things to take a turn. To his surprise, on this night, it seemed to make no difference. The woman tending him continued about her work.

    The people of the community cared for him, fed him, found him a bed and treated him as any other member of the rescued crew. Phillips was not used to that kind of treatment from white people.

    When the time came to leave St. Lawrence, Phillips remained with the Navy where he continued to face the same discrimination he had prior to the wreck. He wanted to grow his career and, after much perseverance he was permitted to enroll in the Navy’s Sonar School.

    In the 1950s Phillips met Martin Luther King. He went on to become an active participant in the American civil rights movement.

    He did it, in part, because he knew life could be different. He saw the difference in the midst of a tragedy and rescue on Newfoundland’s coast.

    "Today, I have no hatred in my heart,” said Phillips, “I hate no one. And I give the credit to the people of St. Lawrence, what they taught me."

    Phillips was awarded an honorary Degree from Memorial University for his efforts to end discrimination and 10 years ago, on the 70th anniversary of the disaster, he was presented with an Honorary Order of Newfoundland and Labrador for his work in civil rights.

    Phillips died on March 11, 2012, just before his 89th birthday.

Rescuing The Pollux

USS Pollux

USS Pollux, public domain.

The crew of the Pollux was facing a similar struggle and, for a long time, largely on their own. Word of the Truxtun had made it to the Newfoundlanders but they knew nothing about a second ship stranded at Lawn Point.

Like the Truxtun, the Pollux had come to rest in an area surrounded by steep cliffs.

Fighting against the sea, three crew members had managed to get a line to shore but just as they were beginning to figure out how to make good use of it disaster struck again - a wave smashed against the vessel causing the front of the ship to break away. Water rushed in. There was nothing to do but abandon ship.

It was chaos. Crew members plunged into the ocean, many dying within minutes. The few who made it to shore were paralyzed with cold.

In the community of Lawn, some 10 miles from the wreck, they had heard about the Truxtun. A local, who had been trekking in the area, saw the Pollux. He spread the word through town. People were reluctant to believe him:

He must have been confused! How could two warships wreck at the same time?

As unlikely as it seemed, they were not willing to take the risk, a small rescue party set out.

Over 100 survivors from the Pollux had made it to shore. They were huddled on a ledge, at the base of an immense cliff.
For most, there was no hope of climbing. They were too injured, exhausted and cold. A small group made it to the top and headed for help. Fortunately, they chose to go in the direction of Iron Springs Mine.

The remaining men could do nothing but wait and hope someone would find them.

And someone did — the rescue party from Lawn. Shortly thereafter they were joined by reinforcements from St. Lawrence. The contingent from the Pollux had been successful, they made it to Iron Spring Mine.

They rescuers dropped ropes over the cliff and lifted the men to safety, such as it was. Even off the ledge they were still at the mercy of a cold Newfoundland night.

The rescue party lit fires and made a makeshift camp — still sailors succumbed to the elements.

The next morning, February 19th, the crew of the Pollux began the trek, through the snow to Iron Springs Mine where they received the same food and care the crew of the Truxtun had.

The Aftermath

After their initial care at Iron Spring Mine, the crew were taken to St. Lawrence where they were given beds in the homes of the community. The people worked hard to help the men survive their extreme physical ordeal — the were hypothermic, injured and exhausted.

Eventually the survivors were taken to the Argentia Naval Base. Of the nearly 400 crew members, 186 survived — largely because of the heroic help given by two small towns.

Almost 140 bodies were recovered in the coming weeks. They were buried in Argentia and St. Lawrence before being exhumed and moved back to the United States.

Telling the Story

The story of the Truxtun and Pollux is gripping. The ordeal of the wrecks and the heroism of saving the crew has inspired many to tell and re-tell the story. To learn more, explore the following:

The Maritime History Archive website’s Dead Reckoning: The Pollux-Truxtun Disaster tells the story over 10 short chapters. It’s a great way to get all of the details of the story.

Author Cassie Brown’s recounts the tale in her book Standing into Danger.

Robert Chafe’s play Oil and Water recounts the story of Lanier Phillips, survivor of the USS Truxtun wreck, and how it changed his life.

The film As if They Were Angels recounts the wrecks and the rescue efforts. The documentary is airing on Friday, February 18th, 2022 — the 80th anniversary of the wrecks— on the CBC documentary channel at 10:30pm NST.

Simani recorded a song recounting the tragedy called Loss of the Truxtun and Pollux. It appeared on their 198x release Outport and Sea.

Despite having happened 80 years ago, the event is well-remembered in Newfoundland today. It’s a harrowing tale that reminds just how difficult and dangerous life on the sea is, and the tremendous force for good people can be when they are able to help a stranger in need.

Robert Hiscock

Robert grew up in a tiny Newfoundland community called Happy Adventure. These days he lives in Gander, NL and his happiest adventures are spent with his two Labrador retrievers exploring the island while listening to a soundtrack of local music.

When the dogs are napping Robert takes pictures, writes about Newfoundland, makes a podcast and shares NL trivia.

https://productofnewfoundland.ca
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