ALL   THE

Skipper Spall stood on his upper bridge one blustery morning in February, 1941, conning His Majesty's Trawler Stella Rigel into the War Channel, that buoyed and narrow seaway which encircles the British coast.

The hood of his sand-coloured duffle-coat was pulled over his naval cap, for he had no protection from the sting of the wind or the lash of the spray which was driving over the trawler's bows. He was a Grimsby man, not more than twenty-eight, but in peace-time he had commanded his own ship in the fishing grounds of the North Sea. The experience he had gained was serving him well in his daily search for German mines, and he was proud to wear the King's uniform.

The Stella Rigel was a fishing trawler which, like her captain, had entered the Royal Naval Patrol Service in the early days of the war. Officially she was classed as a " minor war-vessel," but she put to sea with all the valour of a battle-cruiser. For many months she had been sweeping her allotted area, a single unit in that great, tireless fleet of minesweepers which clears the sea-lanes for the convoys to pass in safety, that Britain may have food for her people, and fuel and munitions of war for her fighting forces. Systematically she had plodded to and fro a few miles off the Essex coast, her small company alert for a lurking mine and prepared for attack by aircraft, submarine or E-boat.

A few of the ratings, like their skipper, were fishermen by trade, but most of them had been landsmen until the outbreak of war. They had learnt to defend themselves as part of the day's work and the night's danger, and they worked as a team, happy in the friendliness of a little ship. Skipper Spall had confidence in them; they in turn looked to the bridge with

equal confidence as they waited for his order that February morning. Once the trawler had reached her position in the War Channel it was not long in coming.

" Hands to sweeping stations ! " There was a scurry on deck as the hands turned to, each man at his place. Everyone in the ship, except the stokers on watch below, prepared to lend a hand. All had their lifebelts on, blown up and ready : in a minesweeper things happen too quickly to take precautions afterwards.  They wore blue jer-