He adopted a mood of passivity, which helped him save valuable energy and he had a dogged determination to survive

Largie Castle, A Rifled Nest Day 103

One of the high points on the lifeboat was a cloud-burst which lasted for three or four minutes. As the rain fell into the boat the survivors knelt down and lapped it up, filling their bottles with water. On another day when a dozen gulls landed on their bows the people pounced and caught seven after which they tore them to pieces and devoured the raw flesh.

But the most horrendous occurrence happened on their penultimate day at sea when the four crew members (all Javanese) with a rowlock struck repeatedly the head of a gunner, weakened with thirst and starvation. Using a tin as a blade they slashed his body, dug their hands into the wound, and extracted chunks of his flesh, which they devoured.

The following morning the survivors saw land. It was Sipora, part of the Mentawis, a chain of islands running north to south 60 miles off the west coast of Sumatra. The living numbered five: Gibson, Doris Lim and three members of the crew although one drowned in the surf trying to reach the shore.

Blessing in disguise

As soon as they were on dry land, the non-Europeans quickly disappeared. In 26 days they had drifted 1,000 miles across the Indian ocean and fetched up 100 miles from the port at Padang.

After receiving food and water from the islanders and resting for six weeks, Gibson and Doris Lim were handed over to the Japanese who sent them to a prisoner-of-war camp at Padang. They arrived on May 18, 79 days after they had set off on board the Rooseboom.

This is Gibson’s story, as we have it. In his book he explains why he was the only white man to survive. Having been a regular soldier in foreign service for 13 years, he was thoroughly acclimatised to the east, having served in hot places like India and Malaya.

When the torpedo struck and Gibson suffered from a broken collarbone, he realised it was a blessing in disguise, because senior officers ordered him not to go into the water but remain in the boat. He adopted a mood of passivity, which helped him save valuable energy and he had a dogged determination to survive.

Also, he insisted, his daily ritual of gargling and cleaning his teeth with seawater had helped to raise his morale.

Tucked behind St Giles’ Cathedral off the Royal Mile in the old part of Edinburgh is the Court of Session which deals with civil matters. The building is often referred to as Parliament House because, before the Act of Union (1707), it was the seat of the Scottish Parliament.

It was to this address that Simon on June 11 1949 presented a petition to determine the death of his older brother. Although he was certain that Angus had lost his life after the Rooseboom sank, he had to wait until 1949 before he could obtain legal confirmation of that fact.

Under an Act of Parliament, a person may be presumed dead if he or she has not been heard of for seven years and since Angus disappeared in 1942, this was the opportune moment for Simon to present his petition. In order to inherit the Lockhart property of Lee and Carnwath, left in trust to Angus by Sir Simon Lockhart in 1919, Simon was obliged to go through this legal process.

Disrepair

Sir Simon’s widow, Hilda Maud (née Moreton) was a first cousin of John, my grandfather, and for 25 years after her husband’s death she received a life rent from the Lockhart estate. In 1919 John became a trustee but after his death two years later, nobody else was found to represent the interests of Angus, the Macdonald heir, and the estate fell into disrepair.

When Hilda Moreton died on April 25 1944, the trust lapsed and because of Angus’s disappearance, Jock stood in as factor for the estate.

On that morning the court procedure promised to be simple. After a war it was not unusual for relatives of a serviceman killed in action to bring a petition such as this to the courts. But Simon’s plea involved an old Scottish family with a large fortune.

Angus’s inheritance was £200,000 which in today’s currency amounts to several million pounds (when in late 2015 Angus Macdonald Lockhart, Simon’s eldest son who inherited the Lockhart estate, died, he left £18,000,000 in his will). The public benches were filled with journalists, notably a reporter from The Scotsman and Macdonald Daly, a popular Scottish writer and radio broadcaster.

Undeniably, the family fortune drew the hacks who, that day, must have believed that all their Christmases had come together, especially when they suspected a harrowing, but colourful story would be told.

Crucial to the hearing was a 35-year-old Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders corporal from Paisley: Walter Gardiner Gibson. Ever since January 1946 when the War Office in London sent his statement to the Casualties Department of the Colonial Office, Gibson was known to be the Rooseboom’s sole European survivor.

Before the judge, Lord Sorn, Gibson stated that he had served with Angus for a number of years in the east. He explained that on February 26 1942 Angus embarked at Padang on the SS Rooseboom with British officers, other ranks and some civilians, all of whom were being evacuated to Colombo in Ceylon.

Escape

On March 1, a Japanese submarine torpedoed the ship and almost two thirds of the crew and passengers went down with her. In spite of receiving a wound in the head and shoulder Gibson managed to escape from the ship. Only one lifeboat was successfully launched but at least 135 passengers and crew attempted to cram themselves into it.

One of these individuals was Walter Gibson himself. Those who failed crowded around it, clinging in the water to its sides. At about midday on March 2 1942 a raft with four people on board drifted close to the lifeboat.

Lieutenant-Colonel Douglas from the Indian Army Ordnance Corps swam from it to the boat and climbed on board. He stated that the other occupants of the raft were Major Angus Macdonald, another British officer, and a woman. He told them that Angus, “as a result of the heat, thirst and exposure was not in his proper senses”.

Lieutenant-Colonel Douglas died about 24 hours later and on the morning of the 3rd, the lifeboat occupants saw that the raft, which had remained close to them, was now empty.

More tomorrow

By Mary Gladstone