ARMOURED TRAINS
"The armourers,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation."
SHAKESPEARE.
Actually the first "job" to be undertaken in Crewe Works, with a view
to winning the war and kicking the Hun away back across the Rhine
whence rudely and ruthlessly he had pushed his unwelcome presence,
was the hurried overhaul of a L. & N.W.R. motor delivery van which,
destined for immediate service overseas and in conjunction with other
and similar vehicles volunteered by such well-known firms as the A. &
N. Stores, Bovril, Ltd., Carter Paterson, Harrod's Stores, Sunlight
Soap, etc., _ad lib._, formed the nondescript nucleus, unique and
picturesque, but none the less invaluable, of the mammoth columns of
W.D. lorries which eventuated in proportion as the Country got into her
stride.
Thereafter the "fun" became fast and furious; orders succeeded one
another in quick succession, and in ever-increasing numbers, with
the result that men who till then had been accustomed to living,
moving, and having their being solely and entirely in an atmosphere
of cylinders, motion rods, valves, and all the like paraphernalia of
locomotive structure, suddenly found themselves "switched over" on to
then unknown quantities, such as axle-trees, futchels, wheel-naves,
stop-plates, elevating arcs, trunnions, and other attributes of "war's
glorious art"; until from bolt shop to wheel shop, fitting and electric
shops to boiler shop, foundries to smithy and forge, one and all became
absorbed in the tremendous issue which threatened the ordered status,
the very vitals, of the civilised communities of the world.
One, if not indeed _the_, centre of wartime activity within the
extensive domain of Crewe Works may be said to have been the mill-shop;
for, although of necessity "fed" in respect to integral parts by
other--and for the time being subsidiary--shops throughout the Works,
it was here that were assembled and completed in readiness for dispatch
to that particular theatre of war for which they were destined numerous
"jobs" of anything but "Lilliputian" dimensions, and evincing
characteristics of exceptional interest and unmistakable merit.
So immersed in munition manufacture did the shop become that,
always--even in the everyday humdrum round of peace-time procedure--a
source of delight and information to the visitor, professional and
amateur alike, entry within its portals perforce assumed the nature of
a privilege which Mr. Cooke, bowing to the dictates of D.O.R.A., but
none the less regretfully, felt constrained to withhold from all save
the few legitimate bearers of either Government or other similar and
indisputably genuine credentials.
Employing none but men possessed of considerable technical knowledge
conjointly with the highest degree of mechanical skill and ability, the
mill shop might, not without reason, be termed a "seat of engineering";
a "siége," that is, not simply productive of new machinery, but
responsible for the repair and maintenance within the Works, as well
as for the repair throughout the Company's entire so-called "outdoor"
system, of a plant of infinite variety, embracing machinery evincing
qualities so diverse as are to be found in air-compressors, gas
engines, hydraulic capstans, lifts, presses, etc.
Fitly enough, however, in spite of these habitually peaceful
proclivities, the soul of the millwright from the very outset of
the war became infused with the spirit of Mars, and pride of place
should perhaps be accorded the two armoured trains which, during the
late autumn and early winter months of 1914-15, claimed the combined
energies and ingenuity of those who were called upon to construct them.
Invasion was a bogey which, rightly or wrongly, undoubtedly throughout
the whole period of the war never failed to exercise the minds, not
only of competent military and naval authorities, but of amateur
and would-be "Napoleon-Nelsons" as well, and right up to the spring
of 1918, when every available ounce of weight was flung across the
Channel to counter what was destined to prove the final and despairing
enemy offensive, large forces had been kept at home, if merely as a
precautionary measure.
True enough, a certain degree of material damage accompanied not
infrequently by a sufficiently heavy toll of human, and usually
civilian, life resulted from perennial air raids, and an occasional
_ballon d'essai_ smacking of "tip and run" on the part of some small
detachment or flying squadron of enemy ships might momentarily upset
the resident equilibrium of one or other of our East-coast seaside
resorts; but nothing approaching the semblance of any actual or serious
attempt at invasion was ever known to occur; in fact, Mr. Lloyd George,
when speaking at Bangor in February, 1915, went so far as to "lodge a
complaint against the British Navy," which, he reminded his hearers,
"does not enable us to realise that Britain is at the present moment
waging the most serious war it has ever been engaged in. We do not
understand it." There was no disputing the fact, those at home never
really understood the war; almost equally self-evident was the truism
that they seldom if ever really appreciated to the full the natural
beauty and charm of their native shores. It needed the grim reality
of the former, and the aching sense of void created by enforced and
prolonged absence from the latter, to bring home the unadulterated
meaning of each in its true perspective, as may be seen from that
poignant little plaint, pencilled from the hell of a front-line
trench:--
"The wind comes off the sea, and oh! the air,
I never knew till now that life in old days was so fair,
But now I know it in this filthy rat-infested ditch,
When every shell must kill or spare, and God alone knows which."
Very similar, too, is the strain reflected by the French "poilu,"
who, drafted out to distant Macedonia, and languishing 'midst the
fever-stricken haunts of the mosquito, plagued everlastingly besides by
sickening swarms of flies, suddenly exclaims,--"Où est notre France?
la chère France, qu'on ne savait pas tant belle et si bonne avant de
l'avoir quittée?" From fighting men at the front and from them alone
could realistic portrayals of pent-up emotions such as these emanate;
they alone were capable of expounding the naked definition of the word
"War;" the people at home "do not understand it."
Whether it was by good luck or by good management that "this sweet land
of liberty" of ours, England, remained unmolested, immune from the
horrors that were being perpetrated just across the narrow dividing
line afforded by the waters, within sound of the guns, within range of
modern projectile, must be left to the realm of conjecture; although
some idea of "the dangers we had to run" may very well be obtained by a
perusal of a few of the several and extremely cogent observations which
no less an authority than Admiral Viscount Jellicoe has to make on the
subject in his notable work "The Grand Fleet, 1914-16."
In comparing the relative strength of Great Britain and Germany he
insists that "the lesson of vital importance to be drawn" is that
"if this country in the future decides to rely for safety against
raids or invasion on the Fleet alone, it is essential that we should
possess a considerably greater margin of superiority over a possible
enemy _in all classes of vessels_ than we did in August, 1914," and
one of the four cardinal points which he cites as being the _raison
d'être_ of the Navy is that of preventing "invasion of this country
and its overseas dominions." Conditions had, moreover, undergone such
a complete change since the Napoleonic era, that whereas one hundred
years ago "stress of bad weather was the only obstacle to closely
watching enemy ports, now the submarine destroyer and the mine render
such dispositions impossible," with the result that "throughout the war
the responsibility of the Fleet for the prevention of raids or invasion
was a factor which had considerable influence on naval strategy." Thus
although, as we learn, certain defined patrol areas in the North Sea
were watched on a regular organised plan by our cruiser squadrons, it
was not a difficult matter for enemy ships to slip through. For "the
North Sea, though small in contrast with the Atlantic, is a big water
area of 120,000 square miles in extent," and whilst the Fleet was
based at Scapa Flow it was not only impossible to intercept ships, but
equally impossible "to ensure that the enemy would be brought to action
after such an operation" as that of a raid.
[Illustration: ARMOURED TRAIN. [_To face p. 45._]
Bearing these considerations in mind, it is not altogether surprising
that the military authorities awoke to the fact that the policy of
having two strings to one's bow is not usually a bad one; and so,
rather than "rely for safety against raids or invasion on the Fleet
alone," they bethought themselves of the secondary line of defence
which would readily be afforded by armoured trains.
Any serious attempt at landing by the enemy was, in Viscount Jellicoe's
opinion, "not very likely in the earliest days of the war, the nights
were comparatively short, and the Expeditionary Force had not left the
country. It was also probable," so he thought, "that the enemy had few
troops to spare for the purpose." But in proportion as "we denuded
the country of men, and the conditions in other respects became more
favourable," so did the anxiety of the home authorities increase,
resulting in an urgent order being received at Crewe in October,
1914, for the first of the armoured trains. Even when so undoubted
an authority as Mr. Lloyd George affirms (cp. the _Times_, July 1st,
1915) that "those who think politicians are moved by sordid pecuniary
considerations know nothing either of politics or politicians," some
people there may be who require a grain of salt wherewith to swallow
so glib a declaration. Statesmen, possibly yes; but politicians--well,
the least said is often the soonest mended. But even our belief in
the sincerity of statesmen is apt to be a little shaken when we find
a former Prime Minister, none other then the revered Mr. Balfour,
devoting himself to the A.B.C. of the Little Navyites and solemnly
declaring in the House of Commons (cp. the _Times_, May 11th, 1905)
that the "serious invasion of these islands is not an eventuality which
we need seriously consider." One has only to contrast this expression
of a complacent and false sense of security with the dogma which
has ever imbued the soul of the insatiable Hun:--"The condition of
peaceableness is strength, and the old saying still holds good that the
weak will be the prey of the strong" (Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg in the
_Reichstag_, March 30th, 1911), and we can never feel too grateful for
the knowledge that in spite of politicians and statesmen, the problem
of home defence was never relegated to the dust-bin by those whose
obvious duty it is to preserve our shores inviolate. As evincing the
serious amount of attention devoted to the subject, a perusal within
the library of the Royal United Service Institution of a paper read
by--then 2nd-Lieutenant, now--Major-General Sir E. P. C. Girouard,
K.C.M.G., R.E., on "The Use of Railways for Coast and Harbour Defence"
as long ago as 1891, and published in the journal of the Institution,
is of exceptional interest, as the following few extracts reproduced
through the courtesy of the Librarian of that Institution tend to show.
Speaking from the point of view of the "gunner-engineer," Sir Percy
Girouard lays particular stress on the primary need for gun power. "Gun
power to ward off the raider from our unprotected towns and ports; gun
power to ward off any attack until the Navy reaches that point, and
gun power to prevent landings upon our shores." Alluding next to the
utter impossibility of extending "fixed fortifications of a modern type
for the defence of every exposed point of our coast" for the obvious
reason that "the cost of such an extension would be enormous," Sir
Percy goes on to draw attention to the systems of railways in Great
Britain and Ireland "which are the admiration of the world." These he
contends "suggest the truest and most economical basis for resistance
to any aggression or insult to our shores," for whereas "ships and
fortifications under modern conditions rapidly become obsolete, our
railways are always kept in excellent working order by the Companies
concerned without any expense to the Government"; in fact "such would
be the elasticity of the system that an enemy would have opposed to
him at any exposed point of the coast the armament of a first-class
fortress."
Obviously a lapse of nearly twenty years cannot fail to witness the
introduction of new methods, novel ideas, and alterations in design,
and, just as the practical experience gained or bought at the expense
of a few weeks of actual warfare went to prove in August, 1914, the
worthlessness of modern forts and fortresses which literally crumbled
and crumpled under the weight of high-angle high explosives and were
quickly superseded by trenches and dug-outs, so, too, it would
appear that the engineer and gunner experts were led to rule out of
court anything of so cumbersome a nature as would be represented by
a "first-class fortress" on wheels, which, too heavy and unwieldy a
mass to travel at anything but a snail's pace, could not but afford a
first-class target to an approaching enemy warship. Armoured trains
were, to some extent, employed during the war in South Africa, chiefly
for purposes of reconnoitring, and it was from photographs of these
trains which they had in their possession that the military authorities
asked Mr. Cooke to evolve a train on similar, though improved, lines; a
train one might say more akin to a mobile "pill-box" than a fortress,
in that bristling with maxims and rifles it could be relied upon to
move at least with the speed of an express goods train, and be capable
of extending a "withering" welcome to any venturesome and aspiring
raiding-parties at whatever point of the coast they might select as
suitable for an attempt at landing.
Drawings were accordingly prepared, providing for a train which should
consist of two gun vehicles, two infantry vans, and a "side-tank"
locomotive; the latter a 0-6-2 type engine, with 18 inches by 26
inches inside cylinders, and 5 feet 8 inches diameter coupled wheels,
supplied by the Great Northern Railway Company, was placed in the
middle of the train. Both gun-vehicles and infantry vans were carried
on ordinary 30-ton wagons with steel underframes and 4-wheel bogies.
On each gun-vehicle at each end of the train was mounted a 12-pounder
quick-firing gun (having an approximate range of 3 miles) which
was fixed midway between the bogie wheels, thus ensuring an equal
distribution of weight on each axle.
Apart from the gun platform, which was protected by 1/2-inch steel
plate (rolled in the mills at Crewe) with loopholes for maxim gun and
rifle fire, the vehicle had two further partitions, one an ammunition
store, the other fitted up as officers' quarters.
The infantry vans were nothing less than luxuriously appointed caravans
on (flanged) wheels, fitted with folding tables, lockers, hammocks,
rifle racks, cooking stove and culinary apparatus complete, equipped
with acetylene lighting and an extensive telephone installation.
Loopholed with sliding doors near the top, these vans were also
protected by 1/2-inch steel plating.
Beneath the frames were four reserve water tanks, each of 200 gallons
capacity, feeding to the engine side-tanks, and in one of the two
infantry vans were two coal bunkers, holding each 1 ton of reserve coal
supply for the engine.
Access from one end of the train to the other was obtained by the
provision of a suitable platform alongside the engine, but protected by
armour plates, and by similarly protected connecting platforms from one
vehicle to another.
Formidable "fellows" as they were, cleverly camouflaged too with
grotesque daubs and streaks of dubiously tinted paint, these armoured
trains, although continually on the _qui vive_ within easy reach of the
East Coast, were fated to be denied all opportunity of showing their
mettle, and of giving the wily Hun "what for," for the very reason that
the Hun was seemingly too wily ever to risk exposing himself to the
sting likely to be forthcoming from such veritable hornets' nests.