War Diary and War Standing Orders of Commander in Chief, Submarines:

Sunk on August 4, 1943 by a Canadian Sunderland aircraft (RCAF Sqdn. 423) south-east of Iceland at 61.11N, 14.38W. 1 dead and 53 survivors.

4 Aug 1943:

A Sunderland of No 423 Squadron RCAF, piloted by AA Bishop, attacked the U-boat through a flak barrage which set the aircraft on fire.  Six shallow-setting depth charges were dropped accurately before the Sunderland crash-landed into the sea.  Six of the eleven-man crew, including Bishop, survived.  When surface forces arrived on the scene, the U-boat scuttled and all survivors were rescued.  Bishop was subsequently credited with the kill and awarded a DFC.

U.489, a brand new 1600-ton supply U-boat under command of Oberleutnant zur See der Reserve Adalbert SCHMANDT, was sunk on 4th August, 1943 by Hudson J of 269 Squadron and Sunderland G of 423 Squadron, in position 61⁰ 18'N, 014⁰ 36'W.  She was caught on the surface after a prolonged enforced period under water and was not in condition to dive again, as her batteries were completely exhausted.  She was on her first patrol, only fourteen days out from Kiel.  Several prisoners stated that her original destination was Japan.

The entire ship's company escaped from the U-boat with their personal gear in rubber dinghies and were picked up by H.M.S. ORWELL and H.M.S. CASTLETON, who arrived on the scene within a half hour of the sinking.  The Engineer Officer, Oberleutnant (Ing.) MOLE died soon after his rescue as a result of injuries sustained in a violent explosion just as he was leaving the U-boat.  Survivors included three members of the German Air Force who had been rescued by U.489 some days previously when their Blom and Voss aircraft was shot down by a Beaufighter off Aalesund, Norway

U.489 carried a complement of fifty-four officers and men, including two engineer officers and a Surgeon-Lieutenant.  They were one of the poorest U-boat crews yet encountered.  All the officers except one were lower deck promotions ("Volksoffizier") for some of whom other officer prisoners felt constrained to apologize, and the average of experience and intelligence among the men was appallingly low.  No less than nineteen of the forty other ratings had had no naval experience whatever; six more, including the two leading hands, had served only in shore establishments, four others had sea-going experience, but had never served in U-boats before.  One Chief Petty Officer and one Petty Officer had been drafted from shore establishments, and a third Petty Officer had never served in U-boats, although he did have experience in surface vessels

The captain was Oberleutnant zur See der Reserve Adalbert SCHMANDT, aged thirty-three.  He was a man of little education, and had served in the German Merchant Navy for ten years before the war.  He was a long standing member of the Nazi party, having joined during a three year period of unemployment before Hitler's rise to power, and was full of gratitude for what the party had done for him.  He had set and lofty ideas on the duties of an officer and managed to inoculate a high degree of security consciousness in his crew.  U.489 was said to be his first command, but he had served in U-boats for some time, having done a period as Officer of the Watch in U.D.5. and in H.M.S. SEAL

A full account of this report can be had here ,
U-boat Archive - U-489 - Interrogation Report

An attack by a 269 aircraft had damaged a hatch seal and U-489 could not dive without taking water, when Al Bishop caught her she was on the surface her batteries exhausted.

Bishop's approaches were met with heavy accurate flak , when he did make his run in, his aircraft was shot to pieces but he delivered an accurate telling attack on her.

Below the 269 attack as per the units ORB ( Summary of events page).

Origin Notes and History

Adopted 29 April 1965 on 82L/NE.
Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

Named to remember RCAF Warrent Officer 1st Class John Stanley Kelly, R87870, from Revelstoke; serving with 423 Squadron when he was killed in action 4 August 1943, age 27. With no known grave, his name is inscribed on the Runnymede Memorial, Surrey, UK, panel 179.
Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

"John Kelly was born and raised at Revelstoke; parents Allan V. and Marjorie E. Kelly. Warrant Officer Kelly was with the Sunderland Crew escorting a convey in the North Atlantic when a German U Boat was sighted. The sub was sunk but their aircraft was brought down; only 6 of the 11 crewmen survived." (September 1992 advice from siblings Joan Cook and Douglas Kelly)
Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

Type - XIV

Ordered: 17 Jul, 1941

Laid down: 28 Jan, 1942  F. Krupp Germaniawerft AG, Kiel (werk 558)

Launched:  24 Dec, 1942

Commissioned: 8 Mar, 1943 Ltnt. Adalbert Schmandt

Commanders: 8 Mar, 1943- 4 Aug 1943  Oblt. Adalbert Schmandt

Career: 1 patrol 8 Mar, 1943 - 31 Jul, 1943  4. Flottille (training) 1 Aug, 1943 - 4 Aug, 1943  12. Flottille (front boat)

Successes: No ships sunk or damaged

Fate: Sunk on August 4, 1943 by a Canadian Sunderland aircraft (RCAF Sqdn. 423) south-east of Iceland at 61.11N, 14.38W. 1 dead and 53 survivors.

Click here for a copy of U-489 Interrogation Report
 

A little before nine my place as co-pilot was taken by Romeo Freer and I went down to the ward room which was empty of other crew members. My hand never reached the chocolate for at that instant I heard the sound of an engine backfire.

My head whipped around towards the right from where the noise had come from and I saw, with a terrible numb sensation, that the starboard outer engine had a white hot fire burning in the air intake below the engine.

Acrid fumes came through the wing root and something told me not to panic and that our Engineer, Ken Middleton, would soon have the fire extinguished, and we would be able to return to base on the remaining three engines. He was looking at me and, seemed about to say something, when a tremendous explosion rocked the aircraft. I was knocked backwards.

The starboard engine was hanging down from the wing root and was covered in oily smoke and flame. As I watched in some awe the engine broke loose from its mountings and fell towards the sea, taking the float and a good bit of the wing with it.

With my shoulder braced against the wardroom door frame I felt the crash and almost immediate deceleration from 100 miles per hour to a stop. A great wall of water came crashing through and our Sunderland came to a stop and started to settle by the nose. We were 200 miles West of Cape Finisterre in the Bay of Biscay. It seemed sure we would not stay afloat long.

Time seems to pass very quickly when one is trying to get out of a sinking aircraft Heading for the back door seemed like a long journey; the walkway was steep and slippery. Holroyd and Joyce had opened the door and had untied the dinghy from its storage space near the rear turret. With Mae West tied I jumped, hit the water feet first and came up spluttering. The dinghy was near by and I clung to it while I caught my breath.

Our first Navigator, Albert Bolton, provided data (position report) while the Skipper was bandaging his head. Albert had received a rather severe cut during the crash and had lost quite a lot of blood. Our first aid kit provided the bandages and the Skipper soon had him looking, from the nose up, like an Egyptian mummy.

Earl Hiscox, our radioman reported that an S.O.S. had been transmitted, but he had not had time to receive an acknowledgement, and no map position had been sent for lack of time.

There was no talk of food because no one was hungry, and we spent the rest of the day trying to dry our clothes and making preparations for the night. We worked hard during the afternoon trying to get the two rafts tied together and putting out some drogues, which would keep us lined up with the waves and prevent wave-top tipping. We also released the baffles which were fitted below each dinghy and which were intended to prevent the violent swinging to which these rafts were prone.

When dusk came we broke out the spray sheets and in preparation for the night put them over our heads. The wind came up after dark and it began to rain. On top of that the waves began to break over the sides of the dinghies, soaking every one to the skin. Quite a few curses were heard during the lulls in the storm.

Everyone recovered their spirits when the sun came up. The Skipper supervised the first issue of rations. About six that evening, September 5, the wind came up again and we took turns holding the connecting lines between the two dinghies so as to prevent the  rubber tabs on the sides from tearing off.

Someone thought they could hear engines and Ralph Ruskin shouted, “There it is.” Someone ripped the igniting tab from a flare and a red star shot up. The aircraft did not alter course. Suddenly the Skipper shouted, “Douse that second flare; it has six engines.” The only a/c that fitted the description was a Blohm & Voss BV222, called The Viking, a German troop transport. What it was doing in the Bay of Biscay we could not imagine.

The next day, September 6, 1943, our fourth day away from based, was uneventful until about four in the afternoon, when, purely by accident an American Liberator came and by and flew right over our heads at low altitude. We were delighted to see the Liberator drop a parachute bag….a dozen oranges and three packs of cigarettes, and a scrawled note that read; ‘DON’T GO AWAY, HELP IS COMING’.

An hour went by until a Squadron 228 Sunderland flying boat (F/L Armstrong) appeared. The wind had increased and we could see that the landing with swells would be both difficult and dangerous, however they made a fine landing. We were plucked from the sea and the take-off was an experience which no one would want to go through twice.