When the surviving vessels of Operation Pedestal made it into the Grand Harbour exactly 80 years ago, just before Malta’s planned surrender, another operation involving 3,000 army personnel kicked off to unload the supplies.

But the situation was so desperate in Malta, that the convoy supplies were continuously looted by Maltese civilians, police officers and British soldiers.

While Operation Ceres went on day and night, the Commissioner of Police submitted daily reports about pilfering to the Lieutenant Governor’s office.

These documents are now preserved at the National Archives of Malta. The first report is dated August 15, 1942, and the last one nearly a year later - July 12, 1943.

Pilferage started from aboard the ships, all the way to the guarded storerooms on land.

Barely an hour after the SS Ohio entered port to the relief of the islanders, an Anthony Mifsud of Qormi allegedly stole a tin of preserved peaches from aboard a lighter. Soon after, an Alfred Ellul stole two bottles of beer from the MV Brisbane Star, which had entered port the day before.

Following a few more entries, it is noted that while on patrol at 7.30pm, Inspector Tonna found among others, two tins of cigarette tobacco, one tin of paint, two pairs of stockings, one sailor’s jumper, one pair of top boots, a boiler suit and an oil skin in a cave at Senglea Point. 

And much later at night, PC 103 Busuttil caught two soldiers lifting items off three civilians.

One man was even caught siphoning fuel, but claimed he thought it was water, while another one was prosecuted for being in possession of a handful of flour in a handkerchief.

Ten days after the arrival of what remained of the convoy, the problem of looting was even raised at the Council of Government by Henry Sacco, who claimed that “policemen, soldiers and even watchmen entrusted with the guarding of the merchandise” were involved. He recommended an inquiry and warned against an “eyewash” investigation.

Surrender of a starved island planned for first week of September

“By August of 1942 we were literally at our wits end: people were hungry and desperate,” World War II researcher Simon Cusens told Times of Malta.

Water mains had been closed off and the flushing of toilets in public buildings - except for once at the end of the day – had been made illegal.

People lived in caves, pregnant women gave birth at home, bandages were reused until they fell apart and some married women resorted to prostitution to feed their children. People queued in Valletta for gash (leftovers from ships' kitchens and dishes) dumped in a rubbish tip which cost one penny a mugful.

The Council of Government was discussing timeframes for the slaughter of goats and horses for consumption.

“There was no limit to what people were prepared to do to survive,” Cusens said.

“Many historians say the actual surrender of Malta was already doing the rounds in top secret communication: the target date for surrender was planned for around the first week of September. A garrison of 30,000 men and the entire island was going to surrender simply because life could no longer be sustained.

“The remains of the Operation Pedestal convoy arrived just in time and changed everything not just for Malta but also for the invasion of Sicily – known as Operation Husky – and therefore the acceleration of the ending of World War Two.”

Operation Pedestal, Cusens recounts, followed two relatively disastrous convoys in June – Operation Harpoon and Operation Vigorous. All 11 supply ships that formed part of the latter, which left from Alexandria, Egypt, failed to make it to Malta. Just before it, Operation Harpoon managed to deliver only two out of six supply ships: a miserable 15,000 tonnes for a country already enduring near starvation conditions.

Four operations, one mission: get supplies to Malta

“To call Operation Pedestal a convoy is an understatement. It was a Mediterranean strategic military mission involving four operations stretching from the Atlantic to the port of Alexandria in Egypt:

“One in the Atlantic served as a trial, while a separate operation at Gibraltar involving the aircraft carrier HMS Furious flew 38 spitfires off to Malta, of which 37 arrived here. There was also a decoy operation that left from Alexandria just to trick the enemy to look eastwards.”

What arrived here were the remnants of Operation Pedestal which itself involved 78 ships, including three aircraft carriers, two battle ships, seven cruisers, 34 destroyers, submarines, aircraft and some 23,000 hands.

Only five of the 14 freighters made it to Malta: three of which arrived on August 13, one entered harbour on August 14, and the Ohio tanker that arrived on the feast of Santa Marija.

“The losses were phenomenal: among others an aircraft carrier and 160 hands were lost in just six minutes.

“The escort force for the supplies remains unprecedented – there were more ships used in Operation Pedestal than the Royal Navy actually has afloat today.”

Survives Operation Pedestal but makes it to Malta 60 years later

“Throughout my life, I’ve had two encounters with the Germans, and I must congratulate them for being successful on both occasions,” the late Ray Morton told former Operation Pedestal mates at a reunion organised by Simon Cusens in 2002.

“The first time they were successful in preventing me from reaching Malta, and the second time for bringing me to Malta safely 60 years later,” added the Australian man, flown here from Frankfurt aboard a Lufthansa plane.

Morton is among the SS Ohio survivors who never made it to Malta in 1942 as he was blown overboard when the tanker was hit by a torpedo.

Presumed dead and lost at sea, his mates wrote a letter breaking the news to his parents, which they sent off together with his bible that he had kept in his locker aboard the vessel.

Three weeks later his parents received another letter saying he was alive and well but that they must make no attempt to contact him.

It later transpired that once overboard, he survived further German aircraft firing, was fished out by a destroyer and taken to Gibraltar to recover.

Fellow mate Alan Shaw was a bit more fortunate.

The British man made it all the way from the UK to Malta aboard the Ohio.

He recalled, in several interviews since then, that as soon as he saw the bastions dotted with people “like a swarm of ants”, he knew this was a life-changing moment for them.

Some of the ashes of Shaw, who died in 2015 aged 91, have been scattered in the Grand Harbour, where, on August 15 of 1942, he was given a welcome so “incredible”, that it marked him for the rest of his life.

This article is being published as part of a series called Malta’s hidden treasures, a collaboration between the National Archives of Malta and Times of Malta. The project, forming part forms part of the European Digital Treasures co-funded by the European Union through the Creative Europe programme, allows readers to gain an insight into Maltese history, society through our archives.

You can discover more at the National Archives of Malta headquartered at the historical building of Santo Spirito in Rabat and other archives. If you are unable to visit the archives in person, you can access an online oral and visual archive on www.memorja.com

The website is the main repository of recent Maltese national and public memory and hosts hundreds of recollections dating back to the 1920s.

More information about the national archives on 2145 9863 or customercare.archives@gov.mt