Tom St. Amand and Tom Slater, special to The Sarnia Journal
Winston Churchill once confessed: “The only thing that ever really frightened me during the war was the U-boat peril.”
His fears were not unfounded. Overall, German submarines sank over 2,500 merchant ships and 175 navy vessels in the Second World War.
One of those vessels was the destroyer HMCS St. Croix, sunk by U-305 in September of 1943. On board the St. Croix were two crewmen from Sarnia, Joseph Bell and Robert Rigby, who both perished in the attack.
In all, 147 men died, making it the heaviest single loss incurred by the Royal Canadian Navy.
Joseph Bell was a SCITS grad, a member of Central United Church, and an outstanding athlete. After high school, he became a banker but received a leave of absence from his employer to enlist at the age of 20. In April of 1943, he was posted to the St. Croix with a rank of Coder.
Also on board was Robert Rigby, a telegraphist, whom Joe Bell probably knew as both were in communications. Originally from New Brunswick, Rigby moved to Ontario when he was 12 and spent time in Sarnia where his father was employed. Before he reported to the St. Croix, Robert was on leave in Sarnia, visiting his father and his friends.
In September of 1943, the St. Croix was part of a group deployed south of Iceland to reinforce ships guarding a westbound convoy of 63 merchant vessels. The Admiralty was expecting problems, for escort ships had been detecting signals from U-boats in the area. Large numbers of U-boats, a wolf pack, were undoubtedly positioning themselves for a night attack.
The St. Croix had been a workhorse and performed admirably in the early days of the Battle of the Atlantic. Manned by an all-Canadian crew, she had distinguished herself with two U-boat kills. 
These submarines, though, were loaded with their newest “secret weapon”, the Gnat acoustic torpedo. Fired in the direction of the intended victim, the Gnat was designed to circle until it picked up propeller noise and then honed in on it.
On the evening of September 20, an orbiting aircraft reported a U-boat sighting and the St. Croix was ordered to investigate. The weather was deteriorating as the St. Croix turned eastward along the convoy track, zigzagging at 24 knots in the fog and rain. Everyone was on high alert. The ship was equipped with submarine sonar and the captain ordered a sweep of the area.
It was 9:51 pm.
They hadn’t completed the sweep when the first torpedo struck.
No one thought of abandoning ship until the second torpedo knifed into the mess deck and water started pouring in. The St. Croix glided to a stop and listed uncontrollably.
The order was given to abandon ship and the last communication—it may have been sent by Robert Rigby—was “Am leaving the office.” Seconds later, a third torpedo found its mark and a fiery explosion ripped through the St. Croix.
Three minutes later it was gone.
Amazingly, 81 men survived over 13 hours in the frigid Atlantic until being rescued by the HMS Itchen. In a cruel and ironic twist, the Itchen was torpedoed two days later and only three men survived.
Joseph Bell and Robert Rigby have no known grave. Their names are inscribed on the Halifax Memorial.