Vice Admiral Sir Henry Burrell, KBE, CB
Vice Admiral Burrell shares with Vice Admiral Creswell a sense of strategic vision for Australia and its Navy. Although he commanded two successive destroyers in WWII, it was perhaps his first major shore appointment in America that sparked his breadth of understanding and vision for the role and future of the Royal Australian Navy. He understood more than most, acknowledging it often, the debt the RAN owes to its Royal Navy heritage. Yet when it was necessary he steered the acquisition of new ships to American models, with consequent benefits for his country. Resolute in fighting for what he perceived as right, he fought hard – and succeeded – in getting a 1959 decision to disband the Fleet Air Arm reversed. He has been described as one of the first ‘dinkum Aussie’ admirals, and remains one of the most influential flag officers in the RAN’s history.
Henry Mackay Burrell had plenty of military family tradition to live up to when he decided on a career in the Royal Australian Navy. His father, Thomas Burrell, who his son later described as a ‘frustrated sailor’, was in the Army Reserves, and his grandfather and great-grandfather both had careers in the RN. His grandfather, also Thomas Burrell, served over 30 years as a ‘Chief Boatman’ in the Service. Burrell’s father and his uncle both emigrated to Australia in the late 19th century; and his father settled in the Parramatta region west of Sydney, working as a schoolteacher. There he met and married his wife Heather Mackay. They raised five children, with Henry being the third, born on 13 August 1904.
Burrell’s father seems to have been a strong influence on his children. He was interested in almost everything, from shooting to the Arts. He was a strong patriot and supporter of the Church, where he was an organist, warden and reader. When war broke out in 1914, despite being 55 years of age, he presented himself for service. He was accepted, and served in Egypt. In 1917, with his father away, Burrell became interested in the Navy, somewhat to his mother’s chagrin. Nevertheless, he applied, and was duly given a cadetship.
Naval training for this new officer cadet began in 1918 at the RAN College in Jervis Bay, established there since 1915 after its initial beginnings in 1913 at Osborne House in Geelong, Victoria. In those days the training classes were divided into four year groups, so Burrell was in the most junior class. He thought some of the training was too practical – he learnt to use a lathe – and disliked the lack of literature, and the emphasis on manners. In fact his opinion later was that the College’s product would be ‘an illiterate engineer who could enjoy to the full sailing and stargazing during weekends in a French condominium’. However, on the whole he found his four years interesting and enjoyable. He liked sports, but did not excel at them while at the College, and he disliked sailing in the College yacht Franklin. In 1921 he was given a Second class pass and graduated 10th in his class, and this enabled him to escape the forced reduction in officer numbers which were being brought about by the Washington Treaty. Only 14 out of the original intake of 36 were retained in the Navy after graduation.
Once out of the College, the young midshipmen’s training continued for two and a half years, during which time they were given appointments to ships of the RAN and the RN. Burrell was posted to HMAS Sydney – the winner of the Navy’s first sea-action of WWI, against Emden. During his time with the ship Burrell decided to specialise in navigation, supposedly, according to his somewhat modest autobiography, because this would allow him to avoid the unpleasant and arduous task of ‘coaling ship’, an all-hands activity from which only telegraphists and navigators were exempt.
Early voyages in the cruiser saw the ship visit Tasmania, and then Noumea, where some members of the ship’s company including Burrell climbed the slopes of an active volcano. He served for a month on board the destroyer HMAS Stalwart, and ‘thoroughly relished’ his first time in a ‘small ship’.
In April 1923 Burrell travelled to Britain to gain experience with the RN; the voyage being made on the liner Orient. The three RAN travelling midshipmen enjoyed the sports on board, but their low pay level precluded them from joining in any social activities. On arrival in Britain the midshipmen joined the cruiser HMS Caledon somewhat late, as Burrell recalls, principally because they had taken some time to consume a hearty lunch. The ship’s captain, Sir Dudley North, gave them all extra duties for the first three weeks as a sign of his displeasure.
Burrell soon noticed substantial differences between the standard of RN midshipmen and the RAN counterparts: the Australians were well behind, principally in dress and journals, in which many facets of training were recorded. Burrell soon set to work to re-do his journal.
HMS Caledon
In June 1923 Caledon journeyed to the Baltic, with ports such as Riga, Stockholm and Copenhagen visited: in this last Burrell managed to leave behind two dozen of his stiff white collars. Over the next year and a half the ship also travelled to Scotland’s waters and participated in a Fleet Review, before the Australian midshipmen were posted off to HMS Malaya, a battleship with eight 15’ guns. Time in the Mediterranean followed, and in August 1924 they sat the midshipman’s seamanship exam, which Burrell passed with flying colours. This was followed by promotion on 15 September 1924 to acting Sub-Lieutenant, with confirmation in rank in April of the following year. More courses ashore followed: at Greenwich Naval College; for gunnery at Whale Island and for navigation at HMS Dryad, and to learn about mines and torpedoes at HMS Vernon. This last course was difficult for Burrell, and he emerged at the end with a second-class pass to offset the four first-class versions he had already acquired. For leisure he played some ‘rugger’ and cricket.
The next hurdle on the road to lieutenant involved gaining a bridge watchkeeping certificate, and so time on board another battleship, HMS Valiant, followed. From there Burrell transferred to the cruiser HMAS Melbourne, and returned to Australia. He duly acquired promotion to lieutenant on 15 July 1926. He was then appointed to the destroyer HMAS Tasmania under (Acting) Lieutenant Commander Harry Howden, who he found most unusual and somewhat eccentric. Burrell’s duties included being correspondence officer and having charge of the ship’s confidential books. The ship’s duties took her to Tasmania, and later to act as part of the escort for HMS Renown, which was carrying a Vice-Regal party to open the new Parliament House in Canberra. Burrell also took part in these ceremonials as part of a naval guard.
Lieutenant Burrell
He returned once more to the veteran Sydney, where one of his reports commented ‘In every way the right type’. From there in 1928 he went to the newly-built cruiser Canberra, commissioning in Britain. Around this time Burrell made the decision to spend as much time as possible at sea in order to gain experience in personnel management. This meant delaying making a choice of sub-specialisation in addition to his chosen field of navigation.
After trials and work-ups, Canberra sailed for Australia. Port visits to show off the new ship to Australians ensued, and on 16 February 1929 the ship arrived in Sydney. A circumnavigation of Australia followed. In January 1930 Burrell left the ship to do his navigation course in Britain, concluding that he had indeed learnt a lot about handling men in his time on board. His reports rated him as ‘Above Average’. This was fortunate, for unbeknownst to Burrell further reductions in the number of officers necessary to the Navy were being considered as a result of the Depression. Officers were being rated into three categories, one of which would see those so sorted asked to leave the Service. Burrell was rated in the category of being definitely to be retained to the Navy’s advantage.
Upon completion of his course Burrell was given the task of navigating a brand new ship – the Indian Navy’s Hindustan – just out of the maker’s British yard, all the way to Bombay. A successful voyage ensued; and a return to Britain on a troopship, and then an appointment to a minesweeper: HMS Pangbourne. Burrell rightly recognised this as a backwater, but he was determined to succeed. He perceived that the growing competence of the RAN – which was being tutored and ‘grown’ from 1911 – was somewhat resented by some RN officers. His approach in his own words ‘was to ‘hide his light under a bushel’ – keep literally quiet and be rather backward in coming forward. In this way the new officer was accepted. In his time with the minesweeping squadron he was able to take part in the re-development of night-sweeping; navigated around most of Europe, and helped search for the submarine M2, tragically lost when her seaplane hangar flooded. His reports while posted to Pangbourne were impressive: his first saw two ‘nines’ – unusual in any officer’s report but doubly unusual to gain two of this rating. Before posting off on 16 October 1931 Burrell also completed a meteorological course.
On 5 December 1932 Burrell arrived back in Australia to join HMAS Tattoo as First Lieutenant. He did well there but his reports show no great marks of distinction. The Great Depression had reduced the size of the fleet. However, it soon began to expand again with the acquisition of the five veteran destroyers, eventually to achieve fame as the ‘Scrap Iron Flotilla’. Burrell was appointed to the largest of these – Stuart – as navigator, and was promoted to Lieutenant Commander in July 1934. He did very well in his Captain’s opinion: his reports were a mixture of ‘sevens’ and ‘eights’. He was married in the Christmas leave period to Margaret Mackay. Perhaps in celebration, he later noted that he took up alcohol consumption at this age of 30, having previously been a teetotaller.
In 1935 Burrell joined the old coal burner HMAS Brisbane to navigate her to Britain, where she was to be sold for scrap, with the ship’s company commissioning the new Sydney. Burrell however, was not amongst them, as he had a new navigation course to undertake at HMS Dryad. Upon completion of this he was ‘loaned’ to HMS Coventry, which was in the process of being converted at Chatham dockyard to an anti-air cruiser. Refitting finished, the ship sailed for Alexandria in the Mediterranean, with the ominous loom of war on the horizon as Germany and Italy thought of expansion. The ship was busy perfecting her new armament, and there was little time for leisure. Burrell recorded he spent a little time ashore playing tennis, but the night life was ‘sordid’ and he avoided the local food because of the ‘discomfort’ that seemed to follow it. His reports were most positive, with four ‘eights’ being recorded on one of them
In 1937 Coventry returned to the United Kingdom, and Burrell was given a new appointment, to HMS Devonshire, a 10,000 ton cruiser, and sister ship to the Australian Canberra. The ship was deployed to the Mediterranean, with the Spanish civil war breaking out, and the cruiser tasked with attempting to prevent the shipment of war materials, but without any real legal backing. It was a frustrating time for many, and fortunately Burrell was soon posted in January 1938 to Greenwich for the Staff Course. He was perhaps a little put out by his final reports, for they had been variable: although they contained much in the way of positive comment he had been criticised for not having yet developed his powers of command, and of being ‘far too kindhearted’ and “too familiar with the sailors”. He later commented that: ‘In my view, the ship would have been more efficient if officers and ratings had been in closer touch’.
In later years an RAN officer of flag rank commented on Burrell and that criticism: “That comment says a lot for Sir Henry Burrell’s style. He was very good at communicating with his fellow human beings and bridging, for example, the generation gap between himself and someone years younger. This quality lasted him throughout his life.”
His time at the Staff College was perhaps not very pleasant for Burrell: his three reports he received there were the lowest of his career in their numerical scores, with ‘four’ appearing on all three reports. The comments were overall reasonably neutral, but contained biting judgements on his ‘personality’ or rather, a lack of it. ‘Has a very poor delivery’, commented one, presumably referring to his speaking manner. ‘He has a nervous manner which affects his power of verbal expression’, confirmed another, and furthermore suggested he ‘lacked personality’. It is unclear what this implied: were all Staff Course officers given similarly hard treatment to make them try harder to fit the preferred model, or perhaps did Burrell’s ‘lack of personality’ mean that he did not have the desired manners and characteristics?
September saw the breaking of the Munich Agreement, and the appeasement of Hitler by Chamberlain and his proclamation of ‘Peace in our time’. In Burrell’s opinion, the British Prime Minister was ‘naïve’, and he recalled the exhortations of Churchill in the past imploring his country to ‘wake up’. Burrell’s opinion of Winston was ‘His rhetoric may have been exaggerated, but there was no doubting his sincerity’. All of the staff officers on the course were receiving sea-going appointments, with naval mobilisation ordered. Burrell’s was to HMS Emerald, another cruiser, but this was then changed with the lessening of the crisis, and he was posted to Melbourne’s Naval Headquarters, to be a staff officer – Director of Operations and Plans – on the Naval Board. War still seemed imminent, and there was much work bringing plans up to date. Burrell found a distinct lack of accurate information in the preparations for war, and recalled later that seldom had he worked harder than during his first four months in the job.
In June 1939 the Reserves were called up and advanced leave given to regular forces. Retired naval officers were called back to the Colours, ship preparation increased, and the planning for the first few days of conflict intensified. Late at night on 3 September Captain John Collins, Burrell’s superior, gave the order to notify all of the RAN’s ships and establishments that the country was at war.
For the next few months, Burrell and the staff were frantically busy, organising anti-submarine patrols; the movement of Australia’s warships, and the use of troopships and shipping taken up from trade. Burrell’s expertise in navigation and in minesweeping was of considerable use. Around the world the conflict was increasing in strength, but was still largely confined to Europe. However, isolated incidents with raiders in the Indian Ocean and the Pacific were of concern. Burrell received his promotion to Commander in June 1940. It is impossible to know how he felt upon this distinction: the jump to ‘brass hat’ and the equivalent of Lieutenant Colonel: most officers do not receive the distinction, with the triangular formation of the corps meaning there is less chance of promotion the higher one ascends. If dining formally on a Thursday night Navy officers of the RN and the RAN still drink to ‘A bloody war and a sickly season’ meaning that in wartime the chances of promotion are higher, with the ‘sickly season’ suggesting more officers will be incapacitated and thus promotion chances are higher.
Burrell was posted to Washington DC at the end of 1940 to act as a liaison officer. The sensitivities of some of the USA’s people to going to war had to be considered, and Burrell would need to use all of his powers of diplomacy. The appointment of a foreign naval officer to the American capital was so delicate that Burrell was provided with a false passport and travelled in civilian clothes. In Washington he was installed at an Australian diplomatic worker’s house, so as not to attract attention.
Burrell consulted with many different American departments and authorities, and in this way opened up many doors that in the forthcoming conflict against Japan would prove highly useful. He also suggested a permanent naval attache be stationed in Washington, and after the production of a paper detailing his proposal, this was accepted. In fact, Burrell’s first command – HMAS Norman – which was being built in Britain, had her launch date delayed by an air raid, and Burrell was placed in the position he had just suggested. As perhaps a measure of his early achievements, a seven-ship USN flotilla soon visited ports in the Pacific and Australia. He was attached to the staff of the ‘Australian Minister in Washington’, RG Casey, and participated in the diplomatic circle of official receptions. However, in the background was much inter-naval diplomacy, and strategic suggestion: one of Burrell’s reports highlights, for example, a proposal the Americans should bolster the defence of Singapore in the event of war with Japan. However, a subsequent report had to admit that the Americans had not been drawn into such support. But much preparation was made behind the scenes in the event the Americans were brought into a war against Japan, and subsequently Germany and Italy.
That such work was able to be done before conflict broke out impacted directly on the duration of the Pacific War, and thus Burrell and those he worked with – both American and Australian – deserve much credit for their unseen work. It is a tribute too, to Burrell’s negotiating skills and considerable powers of personality, that a commander could deal with flag rank officers to such an extent. At the end of his Washington time the Naval Office of New Zealand commented to the Secretary of the RAN that Burrell’s reports were of the ‘utmost value’ and ‘…so complete and clear that they have been specially commented upon by the New Zealand War Cabinet’.
At the end of this appointment Burrell’s reports were most positive: one was all ‘eights’ with a sole ‘seven’. Previous reports had been just as good or better: on his 11 June 1940 version he was rated with two ‘nines’ and three ‘eights’. He received a letter of appreciation for his efforts from the Government of New Zealand. Unfortunately, while his professional life was going well, on a personal note, Burrell’s first marriage – in his words – ‘…which had failed, had been terminated’.
After three years ashore Burrell proceeded to Halifax and then Britain to take over his new command. Norman was still building, and so the new captain stood by his ship and both endured the attentions of the Luftwaffe night after night. The destroyer was the latest in technology: capable of 35 knots; armed with six 4.7’ guns; ten 21’ torpedo tubes and 45 depth charges. She boasted the latest fit of radar, asdic and communications. The ship was commissioned on 15 September 1941 and quickly proceeded to sea trials. Everything went well, and two weeks later Burrell was able to sign a rather crumpled piece of paper one of the Thornycroft representatives produced from his pocket: ‘Received Warship No. 235’.
HMAS Norman
The ship’s first mission was to escort the cruiser Kent to Scapa Flow. On the way Burrell found that despite his watchkeeping officers holding certificates of competency, most were very inexperienced. The next months were a combination of bringing the 226 men of the ship’s company to their full fighting efficiency, and coping with various assignments. One of these included the carriage of a VIP ‘political’ group to Russia, with various patrolling while awaiting their return. Burrell and the ship’s company ventured ashore in Archangel but found it a thoroughly depressing experience, with roads made of wood; most of the population absent, and the local vodka something to be treated with caution. Ken McRorie, who served with Burrell in Norman, recalls that when the time came to leave Archangel, the ship was frozen to the wharf, which presented a new challenge for a while. It was doubtless to the united relief of the ship’s company that Norman returned to Britain upon re-embarking the VIPs.
On either the voyage there or during the return the ship shot down a German bomber. According to a rather melodramatic clipping in a Burrell family scrapbook, the grandly-titled ‘Able-bodied Seaman Fred Miles’ reported that ‘The Hun did not attempt to bomb, but circled our ship three times. We got him silhouetted against the moon and fired all guns. The Hun exploded. It was a lovely sight’.
After more fleet manoeuvres, the ship returned to Southampton to have faults in her boilers repaired at the manufacturer’s expense. Leave was given to all. More armament was added to the ship, and soon she was back in the water and escort work commenced. The threat of U-boat attack on the convoys was constantly present, and to add to the sense of foreboding there was the increasingly gloomy news of Japanese successes after Pearl Harbor: the loss of Singapore; Prince of Wales and Repulse, amongst other reverses.
A convoy to Freetown was next, and Burrell noted in pessimistic terms how he knew that any ship torpedoed would have to be abandoned – conventional practice with the experience in the past showing that stopping almost always led to further submarine attack and even further losses. Norman was deployed with the Seventh Destroyer Flotilla to serve in the Indian Ocean. She joined a large but not terribly modern force of British and Australian ships which included three aircraft carriers – Indomitable and Formidable together with the smaller Hermes – the battleships Warspite, Resolution, Ramillies, Royal Sovereign and Revenge, and five cruisers, 16 destroyers (including Norman) and five submarines. Burrell commented that although this seemed a formidable force, many of the ships were old, and it was underpowered with aircraft. Burrell also caught up with a colleague from before the war, Harry Howden, now in command of the cruiser Hobart, and noted that Howden and officers looked somewhat strained. Burrell did not know of the tremendous enemy assaults the cruiser had gone through; the loss of Perth under Hec Waller, and the battering the RN and RAN units had taken as they beat a fighting retreat south.
The strategic aim was to defend Ceylon, and careful manoeuvring by the fleet began. Battle was joined on 5 April 1942 with a Japanese air assault on Colombo. The Allied fleet was split into two flotillas, with two cruisers detached. This pair – Dorsetshire and Cornwall – were attacked and quickly overwhelmed. In the subsequent hours, the Allied fleet came perilously close to Admiral Nagumo’s First Carrier Striking Force. These were the veteran ships and men who had overwhelmed Pearl Harbor and Darwin, and they strongly outnumbered the Allied ships: the numbers of aircraft (105 fighters and 123 bombers) being merely one measure of their strength.
In the next few days another Japanese force under Vice Admiral Kurita raided commerce and sank 20 ships without opposition. On 9 April Nagumo’s force attacked Trincomalee naval base on Ceylon’s north-eastern coast. The RN carrier Hermes and the RAN destroyer Vampire were both caught and sunk.
The surviving ships were split into two forces, and Burrell’s group was detached to Bombay. There were Allied fears that the Japanese would seek to further dominate the Indian Ocean, and so the strategically placed island of Madagascar was to be attacked and taken. The operation was a success, and the next operation for many of the ships in the force was to raise the siege of Malta. The ships proceeded through the Suez Canal and joined other Australian and British ships in the Mediterranean. Burrell rightly describes the project as ‘ambitious’: the expedition was without aircraft carriers or battleships and were dependent on shore-based aircraft for support. The resultant operation showed some signs of success, particularly when the heavy Italian warships expected from Taranto were kept at bay by aircraft, but in the end determined air attacks turned the Allied ships back to Alexandria. A depressing finale was a successful submarine assault on the cruiser Hermione. The Australian destroyer Nestor was also sunk by a direct bomb hit while close to Norman. In hindsight Burrell concluded that the operation should have pressed on, but he conceded that its prospects were gloomy as it was down to one-third of its ammunition supply, primarily because of its Admiral’s decision to lay a heavy barrage over the fleet when attacked from the air.
August 1942 saw Norman deployed as part of a force to complete the full occupation of Madagascar. She led a line of Allied ships into Tamitave harbour, and the Vichy forces there were called upon to surrender. Instead they shot at one of the small boats which had been sent into shore, and so the ships returned fire. One minute later a white flag signalled surrender. Burrell was later awarded a Mention in Despatches for this action.
This operation successfully completed, Burrell and his command were ordered to South Africa to deploy against a force of German U-boats operating in the area. The advantage lay with the submarines, which were almost impossible to spot by night and difficult to find in the day. This was a situation that was being overcome in the north Atlantic by the use of land-based aircraft and carrier escorts, but it was impossible to duplicate with the small group of warships of which Norman was a part. Instead Burrell and his command hunted down spurious echoes and rescued three groups of survivors from the 20 merchant ships that were sunk in those three months.
March 1943 saw Norman in for a quick refit, and Burrell in hospital recuperating from a case of boils. Earlier he had noted the ship’s company members were falling victim to poor diet, heat and arduous conditions: even a simple injury like a gashed ankle took two months to heal. Back at sea a man was lost overboard, and later, another man killed when the ship was in dry dock temporarily at Cape Town. Burrell received the ‘displeasure of My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty’ for not having enclosed the ship before pumping of the dock commenced, although he later noted that such a procedure had not been used in that dock for some years. At the end of the year he was posted back to Australia and arrived at Geraldton. In Norman he had steamed 124, 000 miles.
Back in Australia Burrell spent some time in hospital, both in WA and in Sydney, recovering from what he later described as a combination of stress, bad diet and exhaustion. His next appointment was as Director of Plans in Melbourne. Some aspects of the new job entailed catching up with war operations that – for reasons of security – he had not known about in more than sketchy detail: the sinking of Perth, for example, and the campaign by Japanese submarines off the east Australian coast. On the 21st of April, 1944, Burrell’s personal life took a turn for the better: he married Ada Theresa Weller after a three-week courtship. His new wife was a woman of resource. At the age of 15 she had run away from home, and some years later had ended up working on the mica fields of WA and the NT. This was to prove a lifelong connection.
The new job, although onerous, did not last long. Burrell’s reports noted that he was ‘A most zealous, able and painstaking officer’ but given his experience, he was needed at sea. After some months of planning naval aspects of the war against Japan, Burrell learnt that he had been appointed to command another destroyer, the new Bataan, then finalising construction at Cockatoo Island in Sydney. In February 1945 his first daughter, Fayne, was launched upon the world, and four months later the destroyer was commissioned.
HMAS Bataan
The deployment of the new ship to the Pacific War meant the ship’s company would be working closely with the Americans. New signals and procedures had to be learnt in a hurry. Revised techniques in damage control also had to be acquired, with the decision made that every man on board would be skilled in this vital defence measure. The ship carried 260 men, and boasted the latest technology: improved radar; proximity shells for anti-aircraft defence, and six 4.7’’guns; depth-charge throwers; torpedoes and a 36-knot turn of speed.
Tests and trials completed, the new ship deployed with Commodore Collins aboard, who had been recovering from the wounds brought about by an attack some months earlier on HMAS Australia. Work began with the American fleet rehearsing a massive amphibious assault. This was perhaps for the final massive attack on Japan, but the atomic bombs precluded the necessity, and on 15 August peace was declared. Burrell later recorded that he thought the atomic bombs completely justified in stopping the German and Japanese attempt at world domination: “…we were entitled, if not bound, to thwart such aims…In the short term, at the cost of many Japanese lives, it stopped the war and saved millions of lives on both sides, probably including my own.”
Bataan took part in surrender ceremonies held in Tokyo Bay, although Burrell thought that the legitimacy of the ship’s presence there was somewhat doubtful given her inexperience. Following the ceremonies there was much to be done with prisoner repatriation and Bataan embarked hundreds of them from various areas, transporting the POWs to ships returning home. Many of the prisoners were in very poor physical condition, as were Japanese people Burrell saw on his trips ashore. One of the shore excursions included a run up Tokyo River, with the sailors embarking on a frenzy of bartering – mainly with cigarettes – with the locals ashore. The remaining cigarettes in the ship’s store were soon stolen. Burrell announced that replacement stocks would not be made, but if the cigarettes were returned, the theft would not be investigated further. The missing items were soon returned.
Burrell was commended for his work by Admiral Halsey of the Third American fleet. The famous Admiral commented: “He skilfully and diligently executed the various duties assigned him. His initiative and devotion to duty assisted materially in the prompt liberation and in many cases the saving of lives of Allied Prisoners of War and was in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.”
On 18 November 1945 Bataan sailed for home. Upon arrival in Melbourne the ship’s company took leave, and then the ship was sent on a somewhat different mission. The federal government at the time was seeking to raise public money, and as an incentive, offered some hours at sea on a warship to any members of the public contributing within a set period. Consequently Bataan sailed from Brisbane, Sydney, Newcastle and Brisbane, embarking 3, 298 passengers on these ‘joy rides’ out to sea and back again. Burrell’s final report as a Commander commented in most positive terms on his efforts in the ship: “An officer of outstanding all round ability who has proved his worth as a Commanding Officer…an excellent staff brain, quick and sound powers of appreciation and a strong personality…he is fitted in every way for higher rank and is strongly recommended for immediate promotion.”
Burrell was promoted to Acting Captain on 8 April 1946, with the rank confirmed on 30 June. On 2 April 1946 he had been placed in charge of the 10th Destroyer Flotilla. Return to Japan as part of the Occupation Force ensued. His vessels were busy intercepting smuggling vessels, with the attendant risk of imported health problems. His reports were excellent: the second last giving an unusual unbroken string of eights. So although busy carrying out operations, perhaps Burrell should not have been surprised to receive a signal advising of his relief, and – for reasons unspecified – return to Melbourne. Upon his arrival after a long journey by DC-3 aircraft he was informed of his new position: Deputy Chief of Naval Staff, based in Melbourne.
The beginning and composition of the new Fleet Air Arm was of immediate concern, and Burrell, although describing himself at first as an ‘interested spectator’ was soon in the thick of it as a member of the Joint Planning Committee. Other matters concerned the formation of an electrical branch; the construction of two new large destroyers, Tobruk and Anzac; the re-commissioning of Australia, and the decision by the Australian Government to appoint an RAN officer – John Collins – to be Chief of the Naval Staff. Meanwhile, back in Australia, a son, Stuart, was born on 21 March 1947.
On 3 October 1948 Burrell took command of Australia, the flagship of the Fleet. The vessel’s main role however, was to act as a training ship, and in this role she made many short voyages around Australian ports. His final report noted: ‘An outstanding officer of high moral courage’. The Imperial Defence College Staff Course followed in 1950, with the Burrell family, complete with housekeeper ‘Bridie’ and husband, took up residence in Sloane Square in London. However, Burrell’s wife saw a possible commercial possibility for her small company’s products and when she found a factory space some 20 miles out of London the family moved to a ‘stately home’ at Gerrards Cross, mid-way between the factory and the Defence College. In 1948 the family saw the arrival of a daughter – Lynne.
Burrell found the Staff Course invaluable, with lecturers including Prime Ministers, experienced warriors of flag rank, a host of highly qualified academics and what today would be called ‘subject-matter experts’ of all varieties. It included a lengthy tour of war-ravaged Europe, a depressing but useful experience.
When the course was completed Burrell was appointed Assistant Defence Representative on the staff of the Australian High Commission. His main task was to interpret defence matters for Australian audiences. It was a liaison task of two years which Burrell later said he found ‘not very satisfying’, but it was important work in a time of re-organisation of the RAN’s fleet. In the meantime, the Burrell children had gone to school, and his wife had turned her small business into a larger and more profitable enterprise.
A surprise appointment at sea followed, with Burrell commanding the aircraft carrier HMAS Vengeance, which was to be sailed for Australian waters and used to maintain the two-carrier fleet concept while HMAS Melbourne was being readied with a modernisation program. The Burrell family returned to Australia by ocean liner, the mica factory being now able to run without Mrs Burrell’s management. The carrier was readied for sea; the ship’s company trialing many concepts new to a Navy that had not operated carriers before. Burrell noted that new ideas were quickly absorbed – one surprising aspect of a big ship being the embarkation of some of the motor cars of the ship’s company. She embarked in early 1953, on a voyage which was largely uneventful, except for a freighter coming somewhat too close for comfort in the Mediterranean. The carrier’s first Australian port was Melbourne, where Burrell and his family also planned to take up residence.
Burrell on flight deck with Sycamore helicopter and crew
The embarkation of the carrier’s air group soon followed, with the Sea Furies and Fireflies landing on from Jervis Bay. Practice for the pilots in landings and takeoffs followed as the carrier and escorts moved north to Queensland waters. Soon the group had worked up to attacking sea and land targets. To the ship’s company’s surprise, the ship was not then sent to the conflict taking place in Korea, but her three squadrons were disembarked and transferred to the other RAN carrier, HMAS Sydney, along with 200 officers and sailors. Vengeance took on three new squadrons, and began working them up instead. Ironically Sydney’s aircraft attacked their old ship a little later in an exercise as she proceeded north to the war.
Burrell enjoyed his time on the carrier, and made a determined effort to know the large number of people on board. He encouraged fishing expeditions and competitions and organised through his wife prizes of beer tankards for the winners. His reports were excellent, and the final one saw an unusual unbroken string of eights. However, throughout his account of this command runs a thread of frustration, for this time of Australia’s Navy operating two effective aircraft carriers was to be short-lived. In Burrell’s mind there is only one reason for the erosion of this force: politicians who could not, or would not, understand the need for this force structure.
Before this axe fell, the Royal Visit to Australia in 1954 occurred, with Burrell and Vengeance heavily involved. However, this happy event was then followed by an announcement from the Minister for Defence in April that protection for ships at sea within the range of land-based aircraft was to be assigned to the RAAF. The effective outcome meant that in the political view, fewer aircraft at sea were needed, and therefore the requirement for two carriers was to be halved.
As Burrell points out in his autobiography, this was a strange and illogical move. In a threat situation, aircraft were needed permanently over the top of a group of ships (a concept known as a Combat Air Patrol) and this was not possible with shore-based aircraft which would be ‘called up’ as necessary. RAAF fighters would not have the time, nor necessarily be within range to cater for this need. The decision also meant that the fitting of an angled flightdeck to Sydney would now not proceed.
Burrell posted ashore following this momentous announcement, into a temporary position as Deputy Chief of the Naval Staff. His final report was effusive: ‘Undoubtedly one of the finest officers in the RAN’, with a ‘nine’ for Professional Ability. Another appointment quickly followed, as Flag Officer Commanding HMA Fleet. On 23 February 1955 Burrell hoisted his flag in HMAS Lonsdale, a shore establishment in Melbourne. Protocol calls followed: to the Governor General, then Field Marshall Sir William Slim, where Burrell was invested with the CBE ‘for thirty-seven years of undiscovered crime’, as he put it; then the Governors of various capital cities, along with the chief identities of the local communities.
Although Burrell had now reached a mighty peak in any naval officer’s career, he recorded later that he found his position somewhat dull, as he was removed to a point far from direct command of a ship or people. To make matters somewhat worse, Vengeance was returned to the RN, thus bringing home the fact that Sydney, with her straight flight deck, was to become a liability of a sort.
Burrell’s new job was one of managing policy, interspersed with formalities such as a fleet visit to New Zealand, where his arrival at functions in a helicopter was a major talking point. He worked hard in the role until mid-1956, being confirmed in rank as a Rear Admiral along the way, and then posted into a position in Navy Office where he was to review the structure of the officer corps.
Burrell’s subsequent research and consequent decisions were to be felt throughout the entire Navy. In brief, he divided officers into ‘Wet’ and ‘Dry’ Lists; streamlined and broadened the organisation of the officer branches, and made a host of smaller changes, including creating a new special duties list of officers promoted from the lower deck. At the same time he had to incorporate – although he disliked the concept himself – changes in officers’ executive status. It was widened, causing Burrell to comment that one day ‘…the captain of a ship will be a non-executive officer with a staff of technical advisers to counsel him on how best to command and fight his ship!’
The changes were not all successful. The two Officer Lists were unpopular with some: Commander Dacre Smyth, RAN, found himself on the ‘Dry’ List, ‘…which meant that I was destined for ever after to be limited to shore-jobs. Years later the Naval Board fortunately rescinded the evil scheme (initated by Admiral Henry Burrell, curse him) and I was eventually able to get back to sea…’
Although the appointment was controversial and involved hard work, it did have the advantage of being based in Melbourne, which meant some enjoyment of family life. The appointment was extended in January 1957, with Burrell being made Second Naval Member with the task of establishing the new officer structure. This was also a time of change in the Navy’s geographical placement: the move to Canberra was begun and implemented slowly over a number of years. Amongst other responsibilities Burrell also oversaw the reintroduction of the RAN Nursing Service; the overhaul of the officers promotion scheme, and in general had oversight of punishments such as courts-martial, and the personnel situation as a whole.
On 7 January 1958 Burrell took command of the Fleet. This meant moving on board Melbourne, and also a marked advancement in carrier operations in Burrell’s experience. An angled flight deck, a new generation of aircraft, and for the first time an RAN officer, Commodore George Oldham, as Fourth Naval Member – the Member for Air. Burrell noted that it meant the RAN was growing up, by shedding some of its RN members necessarily dictated from the first days of the RAN. The carrier and her escorts proceeded to Hobart, Fremantle and Singapore on exercises and visits, culminating in South East Asian Treaty Organisation (SEATO) evolutions with the navies of five countries taking part. Visits to the Philippines, Japan and Hawaii followed, and at Pearl Harbor during exercises Burrell was given operational command of both USN and RAN ships: proof that, as with Collins and Farncomb, an Australian admiral was judged to be as competent as the admirals of larger nations and navies. However, Burrell noted that the social calls he was obliged to pay took up the majority of the time, with his report on such functions taking up eight pages. He was able to find the time however, to make a visit to the world’s first nuclear submarine, the USS Nautilus.
En route to Suva with the RAN fleet Burrell received a signal informing him that he was to be the next Chief of the Naval Staff. He recorded later that he was stunned by this advice: feeling at 54 years of age he was too young, and moreover that he lacked administrative experience ashore. Nevertheless, it would mean more time for his family, and for his wife, who had opened a new factory for her mica enterprise in Melbourne, it would mean she could stay in contact with the business. Towed ashore on a jeep at the end of the command, Burrell nevertheless was in for a surprise.
The dithering over government departments’ move to Canberra was finally being resolved. Burrell soon learnt to his dismay that he would be moving there too, and for further upset the family would be accommodated in a small brick veneer cottage. The new house was far too small. Vice Admiral Sir Roy Dowling, who had preceded Burrell as Chief of the Naval Staff, and was now Chairman of the Chief of Staff Committee, had also been moved into an identical house. He walked out of his in disgust for private accommodation ‘ashore’. The Burrell family took his house instead, for at least it had an acre of land surrounding it. A Member of Parliament, Senator Kendall, later commented upon the matter in Parliament, describing the house as ‘a fibro house of about ten squares’ in a ‘sea of mud’. A response from the an appropriate Government member blamed the allocation of the accommodation to the Department of Defence and the amount of rent Burrell’s predecessors were prepared to pay. Burrell and family soon moved out into a purchased residence, but of course the house was not an official Admiralty House, and so, as Burrell noted: ‘…the visible signs of an admiral in Canberra disappeared’.
However, Burrell had heavier matters on his mind. His working time was constrained with many meetings, unexpected briefings; a Minister who kept at first in too close contact, and a fleet that was small; ageing rapidly and not strategically useful. For example, it had no mine warfare capacity, three RN submarines which were mainly used to exercise against in anti-submarine warfare, and a Fleet Air Arm which was approaching obsolescence.
Burrell was equal to the task. He ordered a strategic review both anticipating the needs of the next three years and also the next 20. An enlargement of the scientific studies area was made leading to the development of the Ikara anti-submarine weapon. This technology was significant for pushing Australia into the group of navies that were embracing a technological future. However, this success was countered by a Cabinet decision in late 1959 that the Fleet Air Arm was to be abolished. Burrell, waiting outside the Cabinet office, in case his advice was needed on a short-term futures paper for the Navy, was told the decision by his Minister in so many words.
This was a serious blow, to say the least. Burrell considered resignation in protest, but then dismissed the idea as being a ‘twenty-four-hour wonder’ which would not achieve much. He did not concede overall defeat, but nevertheless the forthcoming implementation in 1963 hung over the Navy like the sword of Damocles. Burrell moved into countering the possibility in a positive way. He pointed out that dismissal of the Fleet Air Arm would mean that the Navy would have to embrace Surface to Air Missiles as a means of defence when out of range of the supposed RAAF air support. At the same time he worked hard to build support for the realisation that airpower at sea was now a necessity. This was very much the lesson of the loss of Prince of Wales and Repulse in WWII.
At the same time other challenges had to be met. Anti-submarine helicopters were offering potential for anti-submarine warfare, and much thought and research was needed into this acquisition. Mine warfare vessels had to be investigated. A dedicated hydrographic purpose-built ship was very much a Burrell proposal. And a choice of submarines was pending too, and so Burrell travelled to Britain and was instrumental in the decision to acquire the Oberon class, a very quiet, efficient hunter-killer submarine of diesel-electric propulsion. Built in Britain, the RAN eventually acquired six, and they served the Navy very well for over 30 years before their replacement by the equally efficient Collins class. Incidentally, before travelling overseas Burrell had been instructed by his political masters not to raise the subject of a replacement aircraft carrier in any way, and so when in America he was slightly embarrassed by an offer from Admiral Arleigh Burke of an Essex class carrier for the RAN.
Vice Admiral Burrell (right) is greeted by Admiral Arleigh Burke, Chief of Naval Operations.
Also present (from left) are Rear Admiral Gatacre, Head of the Australian Mission to Washington DC; Mr Loveday, Counselor to the Australian Embassy; Rear Admiral Mendenhall, Commandant, Potomac River Naval Command.
The American visit was an opportunity to inspect a warship type that could carry Surface-to-Air-Missile systems. This was the Charles F. Adams destroyer, and Burrell was impressed by both the platform and the Tartar missile it carried, with a performance twice that of the British alternative of Sea Slug coupled with the County class.
Back in Australia Burrell was formerly knighted on 8 August 1960, having been awarded the distinction in the New Year’s Honours List. An alternative to the disbanding of the Fleet Air Arm suggested itself, and so a proposal to keep Melbourne as a dedicated ASW/Commando-style carrier was developed. At the same time six Ton class mine warfare vessels were proposed, the fleet tanker Supply was to be commissioned, and the Charles F. Adams class acquisition was put forward. Burrell anticipated the attendant difficulties: terminology differences; a range of new systems, and even different threads on metal screws would have to be dealt with. At the November 1960 meeting of Cabinet all of the proposals were accepted, albeit with Air Force resistance. Burrell’s elation at this success was topped off for the year by his address to the Passing Out Parade of the RAN College, now re-located back in Jervis Bay after 27 years at HMAS Cerberus.
The vexed question of the nature of the Fleet Air Arm hung in the balance. Would fixed-wing aviation continue; and if it did, would a different carrier be necessary to cope with changes in aircraft? Although, as he outlines in his autobiography, Burrell continued to press for the retention of the concept as originally devised, there was much bitter political infighting as the debate continued. Some of Burrell’s detractors thought he did not do enough. For example, ‘According to one of his staff officers, during the latter part of his time as CNS, Burrell had refused to look at any staff paper that recommended the retention of any fixed-wing capability for the RAN’. However, this does not sit well with his vehement support for the entire concept of naval aviation that he himself professes.
Burrell’s third year as CNS brought no lessening of the pace. New ships were launched and commissioned – one by Burrell’s wife – and the RAN celebrated its 50th anniversary. Helicopters arrived, and work began on the first two of the new destroyers in America, and on the first two submarines in Britain. Building also began on the new Defence building complex at Russell in Canberra, and Navy Office was formally transferred there from Melbourne.
Burrell’s strategic vision was taking shape. It is a testimony to his long-term thinking that Australia’s naval defence of the decades to come were able to be formed on the solid rock that he envisaged. He was tireless in pushing the cause. At a Country Women’s Association annual conference in that year he even expounded to this audience the need for Australia to have a strong Navy: ‘…we will need a Navy as long as Australia remains an island – and the best place to fight, if unhappily that should be required, is as far from Australia as possible’. This sentiment was still being reflected even forty years later in the Defence White Paper of 2001.
Amidst all of these changes, Burrell’s retirement loomed at the beginning of 1962. After a final round of visits, his 44 years in the Navy had come to an end. The newspaper reports of this event paid tribute to his insight at the helm. The choice of words such as ‘architect’ and ‘foundations’ are significant: ‘Missile Age ‘Navy architect’ retires’, was one headline, going on to note that ‘The man who laid the foundations of Australia’s ‘missile age’ Navy…will retire this week. The Defence Minister, Athol Townley, noted Burrell’s ‘…important and far-reaching decisions…and outstanding service.’ USN Admiral Arleigh Burke wrote privately to him, and noted: “In your case, particularly, you should have no qualms as to the tremendous and far-reaching improvements you have made to the Royal Australian Navy. It should give you a sense of great achievement as you watch the increasing importance in which the Navy is held in your country.”
His civilian workers in the Navy noted: ‘We congratulate you on the great progress that has been made during your term in office…we thank you for your generous attitude to all. This has always made it easy for us to work with you and your officers as a team.’
From a distance, Burrell was able to watch with satisfaction his projects come to fruition and other people’s disastrous proposals run satisfactorily onto metaphorical rocks. The Charles F. Adams class became three ships instead of two; helicopters arrived in force, and the submarine arm of the Navy began its life – for the fourth time. Melbourne survived as a fixed wing carrier, for Douglas Skyhawks and Grumman Trackers eventually replaced her ageing aircraft and the proposed helicopter carrier did not eventuate. The mine warfare fleet arrived to provide its vital protection against this potent weapon that could paralyze Australia’s harbours in wartime. Nevertheless, Burrell continued to advocate for his vision of a second attack carrier – a dream that many strategists agreed with.
Burrell turned much of his attention to his ‘family ship’ as he put it, and to his farm outside Canberra. The mica factories in Melbourne and Britain were running smoothly, and travel was necessary to both of them occasionally. A racehorse syndicate was joined, and it even paid its own way. For 13 years life for the Burrells went well, but in the late 1970s Burrell’s wife was diagnosed with cancer. This was treated for some years and held at bay, but finally claimed her in 1981. A further tragedy saw an accident claim the life of daughter Fayne’s husband, Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Mench, RAR.
Burrell himself had suffered heart attacks in 1978-79. At one stage he was given a year to live, and his wife was told of this. The couple had a concrete ramp installed to their back door to avoid steps and consequent angina attacks. For the rest of his days Burrell lived with tablets to cope with this new situation. Other people were largely unaware of this condition. For example, a country walk with visitors would involve frequent stops engineered by Burrell supposedly to talk and take in the view, thus disguising the need for frequent rest.
Burrell watched with interest the end of naval fixed-wing aviation in the RAN with eventual disposal of Melbourne. Despite his own submission to the relevant committee at the time, and the problem being often revisited, this type of aircraft carrier has not re-appeared in the Navy. Although modern helicopters can carry out an enormous variety of tasks – including anti-ship attack – which were not envisaged when they were introduced, they cannot provide a CAP over ships. Burrell is perhaps lucky not to have been present when the last of the three DDGs were paid off, thus removing even more protection from enemy air assets. He died on 15 February 1988, aged 85. His obituary, written by Commodore Sam Bateman, RAN, emphasised Burrell’s many achievements in the strategic field, but also noted that he was ‘renowned for his common touch and his interest in the well-being of his men’.
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In rating Burrell as an outstanding RAN leader, what did others think of his abilities in the areas under discussion?
Burrell must be rated as one of the RAN’s foremost achievers, chiefly for his strategic vision and determination to carry out his aims. In short, Burrell brought the Australian Navy into the capable and competent ships of the Charles F. Adams class of destroyers, initiated the Oberon class submarines, which served Australia so well for so long, introduced helicopters into the force, and saved Melbourne and fixed-wing aviation within the Navy. He commanded his ships in WWII with tactical excellence. However, perhaps the field in which he showed the most expertise was strategic vision, not only as outlined above, but also in his WWII role of American-Australian liaison.
Burrell, like Creswell, can be held up to be a role model to inspire others to take a long-term view when making plans for defence forces. Both were an inspirational model to others involved in the ‘big-picture’ issues of envisaging where a Navy should be in decades to come.
Burrell brought an empathetic quality to the fore in his American liaison work, where he was able to tread a cautious line in the important negotiations between the huge armed forces the USA was building up, and the small, but strategically important continent of Australia, from where MacArthur would launch his fight back against the Japanese. It is a measure of Burrell’s ability to communicate that his vision of the Royal Australian Navy’s future was understood and implemented by those who followed him in his strategic decisions as outlined above. Always looking and acting the part of a leader, Burrell is perhaps second only to Creswell in terms of his effect on the Navy. In summary, almost an unassuming leader, but one who saw a vision, and had the perseverance and determination to carry it forward and through to success.
The writer: Dr Tom Lewis OAM is a military historian and the author of 16 books. He served in the RAN for nearly 20 years, including service in Baghdad, commanding an American unit, and in East Timor. His latest works are Teddy Sheean VC, a reissue of his earlier work Honour Denied, and Eagles over Darwin, how the USAAF provided the sole aerial defence of northern Australia for half of 1942. He has also diversified into Medieval Military Combat, a study of battlefield techniques in the Wars of the Roses.