Physical Address
Pearly Beach
Western Cape
7220
How TS Birkenhead honours the fallen — and shapes Hawston’s future
On a clear February Saturday morning at the Hermanus Cenotaph, white gloves straighten caps and polished shoes fall into line. Veterans stand alongside teenagers. Families gather quietly. The sea, just beyond the rocks, moves with the same rhythm it has kept for generations.
They are here to remember two ships.
On 21 February 1917, the troopship SS Mendi sank in the English Channel near the Isle of Wight after being rammed by the SS Darro in thick fog. More than 600 people died — primarily Black South African troops of the Native Labour Corps travelling to serve in the First World War. Their loss is honoured each year on 21 February, Armed Forces Day in South Africa.
On 18 February 1982, the South African Navy frigate SAS President Kruger collided with the replenishment vessel SAS Tafelberg during a night anti-submarine exercise about 78 nautical miles southwest of Cape Point. Sixteen crew members lost their lives.
For the Hawston Sea Cadets of Training Ship (TS) Birkenhead, these are not distant stories.
“We gather here today…”
Officer Commanding Lieutenant (SCC) Noel M. Dreyer steps forward.
“Sea cadets, veterans, family and friends. We gather here today at the Hermanus Cenotaph to commemorate the 44th anniversary of the naval ship of SAS President Kruger, affectionately known to us all as the PK.”
His voice carries across the square.
“In the morning of the 18th February 1982, 10 past 4, during a naval exercise off the coast of the South African coast, tragedy strikes. In condition of darkness and limited visibility, The President Kruger collided with a replenishment ship SAS Tafelberg. What began as a routine naval operation quickly turned into a fight for survival… Within minutes … 26 minutes to 5am. The order was given to abandon ship.”
He pauses.
“President Kruger sank at 29 minutes past 5… 16 sailors lost their lives in the service of their country. They were sons, brothers, husbands and friends.”
And then the moment deepens.
“I stand before you today not only as the officer commanding of TS Birkenhead but also as one of the fortunate survivors of that morning.”
A survivor’s memory
Later, reflecting on that dawn in 1982, Dreyer speaks quietly.
“As I said, it was very frightening — it was fear itself. You train normally, and suddenly a tragic attack happens… it was early morning, around four or five o’clock, and some of us were asleep. Suddenly everything had to stop.”
“The weather was bad — very bad… You must remember, you are only 21 or 22 years old, and then you go through something like that.”
“We were in the water for three hours, in a life raft, and yes, it was freezing. But thankfully, by God’s grace, we were rescued. Today I can stand here as a fortunate survivor.”
These are the memories the cadets inherit.
“Their story is now part of our history”
At the ceremony, Seaman Noah Arendse, one of the cadets, steps forward.
“Today, we stand here because their story is now part of our history and our responsibility. The 16 sailors who lost their lives that morning were serving their country with pride, they were trained, disciplined and committed. Values that we, as cadets, are taught to live by every day.”
“By remembering what happened on this morning, 18 February 1982, we learned that service is not only about uniforms and equipment, but about sacrifice, teamwork and loyalty.”
“We remember the fallen, not just to look back, but to guide us forward to become better cadets, better leaders, and better citizens.”
As Padre Craig Hounsom offers prayers for both the SS Mendi and the SAS President Kruger, the national anthem rises across the square. The Last Post sounds. A young cadet plays, steady and sure.
Among those watching is 67-year-old grandmother Loretta Veldsman.
“He has changed a lot”
“I am Loretta Veldsman. I am the grandmother of one of the cadets, Able Seaman Alveno Veldsman,” she says.
“It is a privilege to see how far he has come. He has changed a lot. There are many things I have seen that show what it has meant to him — with my support,” she says.
“For me it is a privilege, and discipline is the order of the day. And respect — he has respect not only for himself; he first respects himself, then he respects his elders, Mr Dreyer, and then he respects his community.”
She smiles when she speaks of the bugle.
“What is so special to me — something I always admire when he does it — is when he plays the Last Post.”
She is grateful to Lt Dreyer who returned to Hawston after serving in the navy.
“He keeps 36 to 40 children off the streets who are busy as sea cadets from Monday to Saturday. These children make sacrifices — every Saturday, when other children are in the streets, they are busy,” she adds.
“I take my hat off to Mr Dreyer and his wife, because she cares just as much.”
A young unit with big ambitions
Despite its impact, this is still a young organisation
“TS Birkenhead actually began in 2019. We are in fact the third youngest unit of the Sea Cadets,” says Dreyer.
The Sea Cadets are a national and international youth organisation, with about 14 units in South Africa alone.
“Our normal training takes place on Saturdays… We have different discipline activities… starting with parade, where discipline begins, and with the uniform. The uniform is very important because it teaches them how to take care of it. As you can see, the brass must shine, the shoes must be polished, and they must take responsibility. Our main goal is honour and skill.”
Cadets aged 12 to 16 attend school during the week and spend Saturdays training.
“You must make it enjoyable for children, but we call it ‘serious fun.’ It must be fun, otherwise you lose them.”
They learn seamanship, maritime skills and life skills. They take courses to build their CVs. Some go on to explore opportunities in the navy or maritime fields.
But much of their work happens quietly at home.
“We pick up litter, we paint institutions such as creches and memorial sites, we help people on Saturdays, we keep them busy, we clean streams and public spaces. That is the kind of work we do with them.”
The need for a home
Like many community organisations, TS Birkenhead operates without a permanent base.
“We are still trying to get the municipality to give us a place of our own — somewhere we can call home… I believe that if we had our own space, we would be able to take in more cadets.”
“We could accommodate many more… Right now we have to work in spaces that are not really ours, and that is a real challenge for us.”
For Hawston, the impact is visible. Fewer idle afternoons. More purpose. More pride.
Loretta Veldmans recalls the Hawston’s top matric student last year was a former Sea Cadet.
Carrying memory forward
Back at the cenotaph, wreaths are laid. Cadet Instructor Sheldean Wilkinson calls up dignitaries. Veterans salute. Families bow their heads.
The sea behind them is constant.
For Dreyer, remembrance is both personal and forward-looking.
“I am grateful to God that I was still alive that morning of 18 February 1982… I thank God for life and that I can teach these young cadets today — even though they were not born then — so that they can remember what happened in our history, for our people and our country.”
“We must honour things like that so that we can grow and succeed, and so that they remember what happened.”
In Hawston, remembrance is not abstract. It is taught in how a cap is worn. In how brass is polished. In how a cadet helps another across a dark stretch of water.
The SS Mendi. The SAS President Kruger.
Two tragedies separated by decades. One lesson carried forward by young people who were not yet born. At the Hermanus Cenotaph, history does not feel distant. It stands in formation — younger, steadier, and ready.
