TAKING moving pictures while exploding shells from pursuing warships
and torpedo-boats are sending up geysers that splash your fleeing
launch and stall the motor is a little out of the run of even an
American war correspondent’s daily stunt. Capt. F. E. Kleinschmidt,
who has been billeted with the Austrian marine forces at Trieste, has
recently had such an experience while accompanying an expedition to the
Italian coast to remove a field of mines, an occupation quite dangerous
enough without the shell-fire. He tells this story in the St. Louis
_Post-Dispatch_:
Captain M——, commander of the marine forces of Trieste, had told me
I should hold myself ready at a moment’s notice for an interesting
adventure. Presuming it would be another airplane flight over the
enemy’s territory, I kept my servants and chauffeur up late, and then
finally lay down, fully dressed, with cameras and instruments carefully
overhauled and packed. At seven o’clock next morning the boatswain of
the launch _Lena_ called at the hotel and told me to follow him. “The
captain,” he said, “could not accompany me.” But he had instructions
to take me out to sea and then obey my orders. An auto took us to
the pier, where a fast little launch was ready. This time she had a
machine gun, with ready belt attached, mounted in her stern, and flew
the Austrian man-of-war flag. Not until we were well out to sea did
the boatswain tell me we were to sneak over to the Italian shore and
demolish a hostile mine field. The prevailing fog and exceptionally
calm weather made it an ideal day to accomplish our purpose. The
fog prevented the Italians from seeing us, and the calm sea made it
possible to lift and handle the mines with a minimum of danger to
ourselves. Two tugboats and a barge had already preceded us early in
the morning. After an hour’s run the three vessels suddenly appeared
before us, and we drew alongside the tugboat No. 10, already busy
hoisting a mine. I jumped aboard and reported to Captain K——, in charge
of the expedition.
To my chagrin he refused to let me stay. The first reason was, it was
too dangerous work, and he would not take the responsibility of my
being blown up; and, secondly, we might be surprized by the Italians
at any moment and be sent to the bottom of the sea. All my arguing and
insisting upon the orders from his superior proved useless. He insisted
upon my return or written orders clearing him of all responsibility.
So I had to go back in the launch to Trieste and report to Captain M——
about the scruples of the commander of the mine expedition. I also
offered to leave my servants (two Austrian soldiers) ashore and sign a
written waiver of all responsibility should anything happen to me.
The ever-generous and obliging Captain M—— said he would accompany
me himself, so out we raced for the second time, and I had the
satisfaction to stay and photograph. The most dangerous work, namely,
the lifting of the first mine, had been accomplished during my
return to Trieste. The nature of the beast had been ascertained. The
construction was a new one, of the defensive type. With good care and
a smooth sea, the mines could be hoisted, made harmless and be saved.
There would be, he hoped, no explosions, and, working quietly, we would
not draw an Italian fleet down upon us.
There are mines of offensive and defensive purposes—such as you lay
in front of your own harbors to protect you, and such as you lay in
front of the doors of your enemy. The first ones you might want to move
again; therefore, they are so constructed that you can handle them
again, provided you know the secret of construction. The other kind you
don’t expect to touch again, and they are, therefore, so constructed
that anyone who tampers with them will blow himself up. Secondly,
should the Italians surprize us, there would be little chance for us to
escape. We could steam only about ten knots an hour, while any cruiser
or torpedo could steam over twenty. The only armament we had was one
75-millimeter Hotchkiss gun in the bow. There would be no surrender,
either. He would blow the barge and his own steamer up first.
“Here,” he said, pointing to a tin can the size of a tomato can, with
ready short fuse attached, “is the bomb to be thrown in the barge, and
here,” looking down into the forward hold, “is the other one, ready to
blow us into eternity. Now, if you want to stay, you’re welcome; if
not, take the launch back to Trieste.”
Capt. M——, after a brief inspection, went back with the launch to
Trieste, while I stayed and photographed with the moving picture camera.
There is a long international law governing the laying and exploding of
mines, and there has been considerable controversy about the unlawful
laying of anchored and drifting mines. There are land-, river-,
and sea-mines. Mines laid for the protection of harbors are usually
exploded by electric batteries from an observing officer on shore.
Others are exploded by contact. The mechanical devices to accomplish
this are manifold. The policy adhered to is usually to construct a mine
so as to incur the least danger, when handling them, to yourself, and
with the opposite results to your enemy. This holds true as long as
the secret of construction can be kept from the enemy. The Italians on
a night invasion had dropped mines on the Austrian coast that would
explode when tilted only at an angle of twenty-five degrees. A little
vial of acid would spill over and explode the charge. One day, when
a heavy sea was running, some of the mines exploded, betraying the
location of the mine field, and the Austrians “killed” the rest of them
with minesweepers.
Mine fields are discovered by shallow-draft steamers looking for them
in clear water or dragging for them. The aeroplane is also an excellent
scout. From a height of 1,000 feet he can look a good depth into the
sea and see a mine or submarine. On my flight over Grado, on the
Italian coast, I could see a mine field and all shallows of a channel
wonderfully well from a height of 6,000 feet. When the hydroplane sees
a mine an automatic float is dropped that marks the locality, and the
mines boat comes along and either lifts it or blows it up.
Here these Italian mines were of a late and very expensive
construction. They consisted of three parts—the mine, the anchor, and
a 100-pound weight; all three connected with a wire cable. The weight
is an ordinary oval lump of iron, attached by a cable to the anchor.
The anchor is a steel cylinder; the upper part is perforated; the lower
half is a tank with a hole in the bottom and sides to allow the water
to enter and sink it. The mine is a globe two and one-half feet in
diameter, which fits into the barrel-like anchor up to its equator.
The weight, cable, and anchor holding the mine are rolled from the
mine-laying ship, overboard. The weight sinks to the bottom, holding
the mine in the spot. Next, the water entering the tank slowly fills
it, and it sinks at the designated place. The mine, being buoyant,
has detached itself from the sinking anchor and is pulled down with
the anchor and floats now at a depth of eight to twelve feet from the
surface. The water now dissolves a peculiar kind of cement that has
held a number of pistons. The pistons, being released, spring out and
snap in place all around the equator of the mine. Comes a vessel in
contact with the mine, these protruding points, made of brittle metal,
break off and a spring releases a cartridge with explosive. This
cartridge, with a detonating cap on the bottom, drops upon a point and
explodes the initial charge, which again explodes the charge in the
mine.
In lifting the mine a rowboat with three men rows up over the mine,
and by means of a tube shutting off the refraction of the light rays
a person can look into the water. With a boat-hook and attached rope,
a shackle on the top of the mine is caught, the pole unscrewed, the
rope is taken into a winch aboard the steamer or barge, and the mine
is then carefully hoisted. When the mine comes to the surface the mine
engineer rows up, presses down a lever, and secures it with a steel
pin. This performance locks the spring and prevents the cartridge from
dropping on the piston. Next, the mine is hoisted on the barge, the top
is unscrewed, and the cartridge holding the initial explosive charge
is taken out, rendering the mine harmless with ordinary handling. The
cylinder-like anchor is then hoisted by the attached cable, and last
the weight is brought up.
We were busy hoisting and searching for mines till 3 p. m. Another
tugboat, the _San Marco_, was also steaming around in our vicinity,
keeping a sharp lookout for hostile men-of-war, and also, when seeing
a mine, dropping a float. The fog had lifted a little, and once in a
while we could see the outlines of houses on the shore. We had six
mines on the barge and three on our steamer, when the launch which had
taken me out hove in sight to take me back for dinner. Captain K——
said: “Well, we have been lucky so far; we have only one more mine to
take up, and I had a good mind to blow it up and hike for home.”
“Good,” I said, “then I’ll unpack my cameras again and take a picture
of the explosion.” At this moment the _San Marco_ gave a signal of
three short blasts. I looked toward the Italian coast and saw two
men-of-war loom up in the fog; then two more. Two had four funnels each
and were cruisers; the other two were torpedo-boat destroyers.
“Enemy in sight.” “Clear the ship.” “Jump aboard.” “Cut the barge
adrift,” came in sharp commands from Captain K——.
Six men at the windlass were lowering a mine carefully onto the deck of
the barge. They let it drop so suddenly that the men guiding it jumped
aside in terror. All hands jumped from the barge aboard our steamer.
The ropes holding the barge alongside were cut, the bells clanged in
the engine-room, and we shot ahead. Fog had momentarily blotted the
vessels out again and gave a false sense of security. “Make the towing
hawser fast; we’ll tow her,” shouted K——. Three men tried to belay
the hawser, but we had too much headway on already, and the rope tore
through their fingers.
“Throw the bomb into her.”
The bomb flew across, but fell short; then I saw a flash of lightning
in the fog, and the next moment a huge fountain of water rose on our
starboard side, and the shell flew screaming past us. Boom! boom!
boom! Now all four ships gave us their broadsides and the stricken sea
spouted geysers all around us and the _San Marco_. Screaming shells and
roaring guns filled the fog.
“Twelve hundred meters,” quoth K——. “They should soon get the range.”
I looked at our little Hotchkiss on the fore deck—there was no use
to reply even. The _San Marco_ had described a half-circle and came
running up astern of us as if, like a good comrade, she was going to
share our fate with us. As she came abreast of our Barge K—— shouted,
“Drop a bomb into her.”
“I have only one ready for my own ship,” the captain yelled back.
“They will get our whole day’s work,” growled K——.
“Hurray!” we all shouted the next minute, as a shell struck the barge
full center, exploding the six mines and shattering it in bits,
enveloping all in a dense cloud of black smoke.
At this moment the other launch came alongside and raced along with
us. I threw my cameras into it, and jumped aboard; then we sheared off
again, so as not to give the enemy too big a target.
Next minute three shells shrieked so close to our ears that we threw
ourselves flat in the bottom of the launch and one shaved the deck of
No. 10. There seemed to be no escape. The Italians cut us off from
Trieste, and we headed for Miramar. They did not come nearer; but the
Lord knows they were near enough, and by rights they should have sent
us to the bottom the first three shots. Even had they steamed directly
up to us, they could have got us by the scruff of the neck in five
minutes, for we could make only ten knots to their twenty-five.
One fast torpedo-boat, risking what was a few hours ago their own mine
field, and, of course, knowing nothing to the contrary, got the No. 10
and our launch in line and gave us all attention in the manner of a
pot-hunter trying to rake us. I had just taken my moving picture camera
out of its case and set it on the tripod when a shell struck three feet
from the launch, raising a big geyser. The column of water descending
douched us and stopped our motor. I had to dry off the spark plugs
while the engineer got busy cranking.
Happily, the motor sprang right on again, and I got back to the camera
and commenced cranking. I tried to keep the No. 10 and the _San Marco_
in the view-finder in case they should get hit, and endeavored to get
the spouting of the shells. I got about one hundred feet of it, but it
is a tame illustration of all the excitement of a race between life
and death. The Italians with their speed, having passed us, now swung
around again and edged us off from Miramar, so we held to the west of
it for our shore batteries.
All this time we kept wondering why the next shell didn’t strike one
of us. Then we saw one of our submarines just diving to the periscope.
By this time we came nearly within range of our shore batteries, and
one of them began to bark at the Italians, but at such range and in the
fog they must have just tried to scare them, for we couldn’t even see
the shells hitting the water. However, we escaped “by the skin of our
teeth.”
As the fog had lifted a little around noon, and we could see the
houses on shore, evidently the lookouts had reported our presence and
the Italians had left Grado to tackle us. The obscurity of the fog,
the strange-looking barge, the _San Marco_, the proximity of the mine
fields, all this had rendered the Italians so cautious that they were
satisfied to run parallel with us and give us their broadside. The last
we saw of them was when they swung more and more around toward their
own coast and were again enveloped in the fog. They were the same four
vessels that had bombarded us the day before, when I flew with Lieut.
D—— in a hydroplane over Grado.