THE DESTROYERS
The war record of our destroyers is unsurpassed. We know that to the
Grand Fleet we owe, as to a vast and solid foundation, the unshaken
fabric of our sea power, and that in the day of battle it has always
proved itself incomparable. But we hardly, perhaps, realised that in
our destroyer force we have a second Grand Fleet, equal to the other
in spirit and seamanship, greater in numbers, and counting its days
of battle not by twos or by twenties, but by the thousand. The work
of the destroyers has been unceasing. Setting apart such service as
their whirlwind attacks at Jutland, they have done perhaps nine-tenths
of the hard work of the War, cruising and reconnoitring, convoying or
rescuing our ships, and hunting the pirate submarine. The strain has
been great, for they have been called upon incessantly to do the work
of twice their number; they have answered the call, not with a dogged
or defensive courage, but with unfailing readiness and dash. They have
shown themselves the true successors of the frigates and ships that
were the pride of our proudest days in the old time; their commanders
are the right heirs of the Brookes and Blackwoods, Parkers and Pellews.
In considering the Anti-Submarine work of the destroyers, it must be
remembered that hunting is not, generally speaking, their first object.
They are out, not for sport, but for ‘business as usual.’ They have a
large number of U-boats to their credit, but in most of these cases
the kill was incidental; it resulted from the perfection of skill and
smartness with which some professional duty was being performed, at the
moment when the opportunity occurred. A few typical examples will make
this clear.
In August 1917, an upward sweep of the Norwegian coast was being
carried out by a light squadron, consisting of three cruisers and six
destroyers, the whole under the orders of H.M.S. _Yarmouth_, Captain
Thomas D. Pratt, R.N., with Commander Geoffrey Corbett, R.N., as
Senior Officer of Destroyers. The light cruisers were in line abreast,
visibility distance apart--anything from five to ten miles--and each
was screened by two destroyers. The cruiser on the port wing was
_Birkenhead_, and the destroyer on her port bow was the _Oracle_, which
was therefore outside ship of the whole squadron.
Just before dark, Lieutenant-Commander A. Grendon Tippet, R.N.,
commanding _Oracle_, was informed that very strong German wireless from
two different sources was being intercepted; and as one of the sources
was evidently near by, he decided to keep all hands closed up to their
quarters throughout the night. Nothing, however, happened until broad
daylight, when, at about 6 A.M., Lieutenant Claude Butlin, officer of
the watch, sighted a vessel on the horizon. No one else on the bridge
could see it, but Mr. Butlin reported it, and his captain, who knew his
exceptional alertness and powers of vision, ordered him to continue the
look-out and report again. Shortly afterwards the vessel was sighted
by the midshipman and the signalman of the watch, and was pronounced to
be a trawler.
But a few minutes after this Mr. Butlin saw a bow and stern lift out
of the water, well to left and right of the vessel’s sail, and decided
that she was a submarine. He at once informed his commander, who
ordered full speed, course to be altered, and the proper signals to
be made. The sail then disappeared, and the submarine’s conning-tower
became clearly visible, at a distance of something under seven miles.
At 6.7 the U-boat dived. The alarm had evidently been given, and it
was not likely that she would be seen again on the surface; so at 6.10
Lieutenant-Commander Tippet slowed down. But at 6.13 the submarine
unexpectedly broke surface less than three miles away on the port bow;
her conning-tower, or part of it, could be seen moving fast through
the water in a cloud of spray. She submerged again in 10 seconds, and
_Oracle’s_ course was at once altered to cut her off. At 6.15 the
enemy reappeared once more. Her bows shot up out of the water at a
steep angle, about half a mile ahead. _Oracle’s_ course was instantly
altered one point to port, telegraphs were put to full speed, and the
forecastle gun was ordered to fire common shell at the conning-tower,
which was then the only object visible. The U-boat just then lifted her
stern out of water, showing a large vertical rudder on top of it, and
the gunner’s point of aim was shifted accordingly. Four rounds were
fired, but the target was a very difficult one and was not hit.
At 6.15 events happened and orders were given in very rapid succession.
The U-boat was apparently not inclined to dive and risk paravanes
or depth-charges. Lieutenant-Commander Tippet no sooner grasped this
than he changed his tactics, and determined to ram. It was, of course,
desirable to strike the enemy at right angles, and he endeavoured to
con his ship so as to secure this position. He gave the orders ‘Prepare
to ram’ and ‘Secure the depth-charge,’ and steadied the ship on a point
midway between the submarine’s conning-tower (the top of which was just
showing) and the stern, which was about four feet out of water. Then,
at 27 knots, he drove _Oracle_ straight at her.
The crash came with lightning speed. At 6.17 _Oracle_ cut into
the submarine’s back, exactly in the desired spot. It was, at the
moment, inclined downwards at an angle of 15°, with the top of the
conning-tower showing on the port side of the destroyer, and on the
starboard side about three feet of the freeboard at the stern. The
impact was heavy, and two officers on _Oracle’s_ deck, who had not
‘prepared to ram’ by taking a completely prone position, were flung
forward several feet. At the same moment an explosion was heard
astern. It leaped into the Commander’s mind that this was either a
paravane detonating, or his own depth-charge, which he had ordered to
be secured, with the object of avoiding any chance of a disaster from
the shock. It was, in fact, the depth-charge that exploded; but in the
right way, and not by shock. The order had been misreported to the
sub-lieutenant in charge of the after-quarters--as it reached him, it
was ‘Let go the depth-charge.’ This he did personally and with great
accuracy, a few seconds before ramming, so that when the explosion
came, _Oracle’s_ stern was well clear and no one was injured, except
possibly the enemy.
_Oracle_, having cut through the U-boat, drifted on for about 150
yards. The bows of the dying submarine appeared momentarily above
water, projecting some 3 feet at an angle of 45°. Then she sank,
stern first, in 137 fathoms. For half a minute the surface showed
a big bubbling brown disturbance, and in the oil patch appeared a
quantity of debris, mainly large pieces of unpainted cork, whose curved
shape suggested that they formed part of the lining of the hull.
_Oracle_ herself was not undamaged, as may be imagined; her bows were
smashed from the water-line downwards, and a considerable quantity
of naval stores were floating around her. She reported accordingly
by searchlight to the _Birkenhead_, who could just be discerned at a
distance of ten miles, and then returned to her base to refit.
For this fine piece of work Lieutenant-Commander Tippet received the
D.S.O., and Acting-Lieutenant Butlin the D.S.C. Nine of the crew were
also decorated or mentioned.
Here the destroyers were screening a line of war-ships, who formed in
themselves a fast and powerful force. The convoying of slow and unarmed
or lightly armed ships is a very different business, but it is done
every day by our destroyers with amazing efficiency and success. A good
example is the case of the _Racoon_, who destroyed an enemy submarine
in the Mediterranean while on escort duty.
In March 1917, the ss. _Osmanieh_, 4,440 tons gross, owned by the
Khedivial Mail Company, but chartered by the Admiralty, was on passage
from Malta to Madras when, at about 5.40 P.M., a hostile submarine
was sighted. The ship was commanded by Lieutenant Mason, R.N.R., and
was flying the White Ensign; she was zigzagging, and was escorted
by a single destroyer, the _Racoon_, Lieutenant-Commander Kenneth
F. Sworder, R.N. The weather was fine, the sea calm, and visibility
good--about eight or nine miles.
The submarine when sighted was about 1,500 yards distant, and two or
three points on the _Osmanieh’s_ starboard bow. Only six feet of her
length was visible, and she appeared to be drifting; puffs of blue-grey
vapour were coming from her, which seemed to hang in the air and float
away without disappearing. When nearer--at 800 to 1,000 yards--she was
seen to be moving, for a ‘feather’ was visible as well as the vapour.
The _Osmanieh’s_ head was put two points to starboard to steer for
the submarine; but as it changed position rapidly, helm was put hard
a-port, the whistle was blown to draw the escort’s attention, and the
alarm gong was sounded. The ship then opened fire with her two guns.
The second round from the after gun appeared to score a hit; but the
U-boat was at that time almost astern and shining brightly in the sun,
so that it was not possible to observe with certainty. _Racoon_, when
_Osmanieh_ opened fire, was ahead of her, on the port bow and going
16½ knots; but the moment the guns were heard, Lieutenant-Commander
Sworder increased speed to 23 knots, put his helm hard a-port, and
sighted the U-boat. It had at first ‘the appearance of a calcium light
giving off intermittent puffs of smoke’; but when the ship’s head was
turned towards it, a periscope and distinct feather were seen, as the
submarine came out of the trough of the swell.
The manœuvre which followed was a very skilful and effective one.
_Racoon_ came to meet _Osmanieh_, who had now turned sixteen points to
starboard and was on the other side of the submarine and overhauling
her. _Osmanieh_ continued firing till she saw her escort only 400 yards
from the target. She had intended to try a depth-charge herself, and
as soon as she passed the U-boat she had stopped her port propeller
for this purpose, hoping to get the ship’s stern back into or near
the enemy’s course; but she now gave this up and turned sharply away
to port. As she did so, _Racoon_ crossed her stern at full speed, and
immediately saw the submarine on her own starboard side, the periscope
just showing about five yards off and moving almost directly to meet
her. Those on the destroyer’s deck had a glimpse of about ten feet of a
grey hull with green and rust-coloured marks showing; then, as the ship
passed over this, she dropped her starboard depth-charge, set to eighty
feet, turned swiftly to port and dropped her port depth-charge, four
seconds after the first.
Eight or nine seconds passed while _Racoon_ swung round on her circle;
then came the two explosions in quick succession, throwing up columns
of water with bits of black debris in them. The ship continued to turn
to port, and completed nearly two circles round the spot, ready to
attack again. But nothing more was needed, and she may even be said to
have witnessed the dying breath of her enemy. Some twenty or thirty
seconds after the explosions, the men stationed in the after part of
the destroyer, looking over the stern, saw a fresh upheaval twenty-five
yards or more to the right of where the first columns of water had
risen. This ‘seemed to come from below as if being pumped up,’ and
it rose to about a foot above the level of the water, making a ripple
where the surface had been very calm. On examination, it proved to be
a fountain of dark and very thick brown oil. _Racoon_ and _Osmanieh_
proceeded accordingly, leaving that dark and evil-smelling blot of oil
upon the bright sea to give the ‘all clear’ to every passing ship.
Lieutenant-Commander Sworder received the D.S.O. on this occasion,
Lieutenant Berthon the D.S.C., and three men the D.S.M.
It may be noted that in neither of these two cases did the submarine
attempt to escape by submerging entirely. We can only guess at the
reasons. Possibly the U-boat which attacked _Osmanieh_ thought she
could win in a single fight against a lightly armed ship, and was too
much preoccupied to see _Racoon’s_ deadly onset until it was too late
to avoid it. But _Oracle’s_ enemy had certainty sufficient time to make
her choice between the ram and the depth-charge; and the fact that she
decided to keep near the surface is very suggestive. The combination
of the hydrophone and the depth-charge is a terrible one to contend
against. The submarine which dives is under the double disability
of being both blind and audible. The depths of the sea are no safe
hiding-place for the assassin flying from justice; given a sufficient
patrol, his undersea refuge is gone.
On the other hand, the surface is hardly better, when it is covered
by an adequate number of destroyers, manned by British seamen.
The vigilance and decision with which they mark and seize their
opportunities are well shown in the following case of the destruction
of a submarine in the dead of night.
Early in May 1917, three destroyers--_Miranda_, _Lance_ and
_Milne_--were patrolling a well-known area, where the enemy has once or
twice attempted runaway raids under cover of night. This was a likely
enough evening for him; for there was a moon only two days past the
full, and from time to time a drift of rainy cloud across it. To-night,
however, it was not with a flurry of destroyers that he came, but with
a creep of mine-layers--U.C.-boats stealing in across the black and
silver water to lay their deadly eggs close to our barrage.
[Illustration: ‘U.C.-boats stealing in across the black and silver
water.’]
One of these was sighted by _Lance_, and killed by her, in the belief
of the look-out who were watching from _Miranda_; but with that one we
have nothing to do. Another, U.C. 26, is our concern, and about her
we know all that there is to know. She was travelling on the surface
about an hour after midnight--she had finished laying her mines, and
was heading about east--when she suddenly sighted the dark form of an
English destroyer within a dangerously short distance of her. At the
same moment _Milne_--or rather the perfectly trained team of men who
were the eyes, the brain and the heart of her--sighted their enemy.
Lieutenant Leonard Pearson and leading signalman William Smith were
the first, and their Commanding Officer, Commander V. L. A. Campbell,
reports that it was only by reason of their exceptional vigilance that
the attack could be so timed as to achieve success. The submarine,
without losing a moment, dived--or rather attempted to dive. But
Commander Campbell was as quick as his look-out, and his helmsman
and engine-room watch were as quick as their Commander. A trace of
hesitation--an order not caught, or misheard, or obeyed with less than
absolute precision--and U.C. 26 would have been in hiding. But she was
hardly sighted and reported before the fatal orders were sharply and
clearly given. Commander Campbell’s voice had hardly reached his chief
petty officer, Frederick Robinson, before the helm had brought the ship
upon her altered course; and even as she turned Ernest Pike and John
Reason down below were repeating the call for full speed to the chief
engineer.
No greater tension can be imagined than that on board the two boats
during the few interminable seconds of the onset. This submarine, at
any rate, was not unconscious of her danger. She was wide awake, with
a possible margin of one second between safety and destruction. Her
deck was already awash; only her conning-tower was still clear above
the surface when the destroyer struck her just before it, and cut
clean through her hull. She took in water in an overwhelming rush,
and went straight to the bottom. Scarcely had she reached it when the
pressure of air, increasing as the water rose inside her, seemed to
give her unhappy crew a last forlorn chance of escape. The Captain was
in the engine-room, so that the exit by the conning-tower hatch, which
would have been his prerogative, was left to the second officer, who
succeeded in reaching the surface. Of the remaining 26 members of the
crew, 7 got the engine-room hatch open, and 5 at least escaped by it;
but only one of the whole number was picked up alive. He was a Dane
from Schleswig-Holstein, and had been pressed for submarine service.
For this smart piece of work, in every way characteristic of our
Destroyer Service, Commander V. L. A. Campbell received a bar to his
D.S.O. Lieutenant L. Pearson was awarded the D.S.C., and the other four
men already mentioned received the D.S.M.
The next case is also typical, being a patrol action; but it differs
from the last in that the success was due to combined work by three
destroyers, and not only by a single crew. There are also one or two
exceptional circumstances which distinguish it from other actions
of a similar kind--the presence of the Rear-Admiral commanding the
local force, and the additional evidence which eventually settled the
classification of the result.
It was on the morning of a day in March 1918 that a light-cruiser
squadron was cruising in the North Sea; and at 9.25 A.M. three
destroyers--_Thruster_, Commander A. D. Gibbs; _Retriever_, Commander
E. W. Taylor; and _Sturgeon_, Lieutenant-Commander Henry Coombs--were
ordered to take up a screening position ahead of the force. As they
were in the act of moving to their stations an object was sighted, two
points on _Sturgeon’s_ port bow, and about one mile distant. A moment
afterwards it was recognised as the conning-tower of a submarine.
In order to understand what followed, it is necessary to have the
positions clearly before the mind’s eye. _Thruster_ and _Retriever_
were immediately ahead of the squadron, to starboard and port
respectively, and _Sturgeon_ was ahead of the flotilla, in the act of
crossing from starboard to port. She had just passed _Thruster_ and was
on her port bow, going towards a point ahead of _Retriever_, when she
sighted the submarine on her own port bow and therefore almost enclosed
in the triangle formed by the three destroyers. The U-boat dived
immediately, and _Sturgeon_ fired as she did so, but without effect--a
late shot at a disappearing target. Lieutenant-Commander Coombs at once
increased to full speed, and altered course to pass over the position.
He arrived accurately, and in time to sight the track of the submarine
as she tried to bolt through the only opening left to her, between
her pursuer and the advancing _Retriever_. Her under-water speed was
quite unequal to this effort, and in a moment _Sturgeon_ was passing
along her track and overhauling her. Another moment and the destroyer’s
depth-charges, set to forty feet only, were dropped--one on either side
of the track and a little ahead of it.
_Sturgeon_ put her helm over in the usual way to avoid the explosion
area, but turned again on hearing the detonations and had the
satisfaction of seeing the U-boat shortly afterwards break surface
with her bows up at an ominously high angle. She was by this time near
closing _Retriever_, but Lieutenant-Commander Coombs considered her as
still his hare. He turned again and raced for her like a greyhound.
She tried to submerge, but could not get down quickly enough. Every
one of the three destroyers could have rammed her, for as they came up
to her in succession they could all see some thirty feet of her bows,
with hydrophones and net-cutters, lying almost under them. But there
was no need to take the risks of a concussion--this was a plain case
for more depth-charges. _Sturgeon_, as she passed over a second time,
dropped the remainder of hers. Then came _Retriever_ an instant later,
with two more; and she also dropped a Dan buoy, to mark the exact spot
for _Thruster_, who was coming across from a greater distance. By the
time _Thruster_ arrived, she found the U-boat entirely submerged, but
she methodically added her two depth-charges and both of them exploded
within five yards of _Retriever’s_ buoy, and probably not more from the
submarine, which they followed down to eighty feet.
So far, no one had thought of doubting the success of this very well
executed triple attack; and indeed the evidence was both strong and
plentiful. The U-boat was clearly seen to have been damaged by the
_Sturgeon’s_ first two charges, for she reappeared almost at once
and at an unmistakable angle. The six other charges dropped over her
were none of them blind shots--_Sturgeon_ and _Retriever_ both saw
their target plainly, and _Thruster_ had the Dan buoy to guide her.
The Rear-Admiral, in reporting the case, added that he was himself
a witness of the attack and was of opinion that the submarine was
destroyed. As corroborative evidence, he named the following articles,
which were picked up near the spot: 1 wooden ladder, 1 red _kisbie_
lifebuoy, 1 calcium float, and 1 steel buoy with fractured wire pendant
attached. The lifebuoy and calcium float were not of British make, and
the former was marked with letters and numbers not used in our Service.
Finally, the area round the Dan buoy was thick with oil, which came
gradually up during the two hours succeeding the chase.
Notwithstanding this evidence, and the opinion of so many competent
witnesses, the Admiralty rule held good. There were no survivors or
dead bodies, no debris which might not have come from the submarine’s
deck, no certainty that she could not have righted herself and crawled
home to the repairing yard. The report was marked ‘Probably sunk,’
and a letter of appreciation was directed to be forwarded to each
of the three commanders, with an intimation that if any subsequent
information should be received which would cause any revision of the
classification, the case should be resubmitted. Less than seven weeks
afterwards the ‘subsequent information’ was forthcoming and thereupon
Lieutenant-Commander Coombs was awarded the D.S.O., and ‘Mentions’ were
given to Commanders Taylor and Gibbs, as well as to two ratings from
_Sturgeon_, and one rating each from _Retriever_ and _Thruster_. So
ends the plain story of what is, to the Destroyer Service, a day’s work
in the ordinary routine. But any other Service in the world will tell
you that there is nothing ordinary about it.