HMS Ambrose - Dundee's Submarine Base

Welcome back to the History Nook.

Today, we’re exploring HMS Ambrose—and with it, a chapter of Dundee’s past that deserves to be remembered: its forgotten WWII submarine base.

So grab your favourite mug, find a soft space to curl up, and let's wander a little deeper into the past.

It was a warm June evening, and I was on a mission—to find something that linked Dundee, military history, and transport. That’s when I found her: HMS Ambrose. I’m not a local, so perhaps I can be forgiven for not knowing about her earlier… but every Dundee native I’ve spoken to since has said the same thing.

They didn’t know either.

Information was scarce, scattered across old reports and fading mentions. But the deeper I looked, the more I realised how much had been forgotten—and how much was worth remembering.

As the storm clouds of World War Two gathered, Britain’s 2nd Submarine Flotilla arrived in Dundee. Soon after, the city became home to the 9th Submarine Flotilla—an international group of vessels and crews from Poland, the Netherlands, France, Norway, and eventually Russia. These submarines patrolled enemy-held coastlines, intercepted supply routes, and launched attacks against German naval forces.

It’s difficult to imagine the tension of that time—the silent departures, the uncertain returns. Submarine warfare was perilous and deeply secretive.

Two British submarines based here—HMS Satyr and HMS Venture—had notable success. HMS Venture, in fact, holds a unique place in naval history: she remains the only vessel to have ever destroyed another submarine while both were submerged. It’s astonishing to think what else may lie in dusty folders, stories that haven’t yet surfaced.

Dundee is now home to the International Submarine Memorial, which honours the 296 sailors who lost their lives aboard six submarines that never returned. These were: HMS Oxley, HMS Thames, HNLMS O 13, HNLMS O 22, HNoMS Uredd, and V-1. Their names are carved into black granite, each one a story stilled beneath the waves.

Let’s talk for a moment about the base itself.

HMS Ambrose wasn’t a ship—it was a shore establishment. A collection of requisitioned buildings adapted for war work, scattered near the docks and pressed into quiet service. There was no great hall, no towering structure. It was functional, tucked into the city’s fabric. Today, little remains.

The memorial now stands close to where some of those wartime buildings once stood. If you find yourself near East Dock Street, I gently encourage you to take a small detour. It doesn’t demand grandeur—it simply asks to be seen.

I haven’t yet visited the memorial myself, though I plan to soon.

There’s something uniquely heavy about a story barely told. About a chapter of history that lives in shadows—passed by, built over, or simply... left behind. It makes me wonder how many other stories have faded like that. Stories of people who gave everything so that I could be here today, writing this post in peace.

This post is my promise: to remember.

To honour the names carved in stone, and the ones that never made it to granite at all.

And to keep sharing stories like these—so the silence doesn’t win. I have provided sources below for those of you who wish to do some deeper research.

Sources: https://www.leisureandculturedundee.com/rubis/ambrose.htm

http://www.fdca.org.uk/Dundee_Submarines_HMS_Ambrose.html

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed your time in The History Nook today.

Until next time, stay curious, and keep warm.

🐾 A Footnote from Index: 🐾

I would like to report that submarines are very sneaky. No paws on deck, no fish for the crew, and absolutely nowhere comfy to nap. Still… I think it’s nice that their names are carved in stone. I would like my name carved in stone too. Perhaps on a bench. In the sun. Near the sea.