THE SPLENDID ‘PENSHURST’
On November 9, 1915, the Admiralty, who had taken up the steamer
_Penshurst_ (1,191 gross tons), commissioned her at Longhope as a
Q-ship, her aliases being Q 7 and _Manford_. This inconspicuous-looking
vessel thus began a life far more adventurous than ever her designers
or builders had contemplated. Indeed, if we were to select the three
Q-ships which had the longest and most exciting career, we should
bracket _Penshurst_ with _Farnborough_ and _Baralong_.
The following incidents illustrate that no particular rule could be
laid down as to when a Q-ship could get in touch with the enemy. We
have seen that _Baralong_ set forth for a particular locality to
look for a definite submarine and found her. Other decoys searched
for submarines but never so much as sighted one; others, again, when
everything seemed quiet, suddenly found themselves torpedoed and
sinking. Others, too, had an engagement to-day, but their next fight
did not come until a year later. The case of _Penshurst_ is interesting
in that on two consecutive days she fought a submarine, but she is
further interesting as having been commanded by an officer who, with
Captain Gordon Campbell, will always remain the greatest of all Q-ship
captains.
[Illustration: FIG. 9.—DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE APPROXIMATE MOVEMENTS OF
‘PENSHURST’ IN HER ENGAGEMENT WITH SUBMARINE ON NOVEMBER 29, 1916.]
Commander F. H. Grenfell, R.N., was a retired officer who, like so many
others, had come back to the service after the outbreak of war. After
serving for a year in the 10th Cruiser Squadron as second-in-command
of _Cedric_, he was appointed to command _Penshurst_, cruised up and
down first off the north of Scotland, then off Ireland, and in the
English Channel for nearly a year without any luck. On November 29,
1916, a year after her advent into this special service, _Penshurst_,
who, with her three masts, low freeboard, and funnel aft, resembled
an oil-tanker, was steaming down the English Channel at 8 knots. The
time was 7.45 a.m., and her course was S. 81 W. (Mag.), her position
at this time being Lat. 49.45 N., Long. 4.40 W. She was definitely on
the look-out for a certain submarine which had been reported at 4.30
the previous afternoon in Lat. 50.03 N., Long. 3.38 W. As _Penshurst_
went jogging along, picture a smooth sea, a light south-west wind,
and the sun just rising. Fine on the port bow 7 miles away was the
British merchant steamer _Wileyside_, armed, as many ships were at this
time, defensively with one gun aft; while hull down on _Penshurst’s_
starboard bow was a sailing ship of sorts. Then, of a sudden, a small
object was sighted on the port beam against the glare of the horizon,
so that it was difficult to make out either its nature or its distance.
However, at 7.52 a.m. this was settled by the object firing a shot and
disclosing herself as a submarine. The shot fell 60 yards short, but a
few minutes later came another which passed over the mainmast without
hitting. The range was about five miles, but owing to the bad light
Captain Grenfell could not see whether the enemy was closing. In order
to induce her so to do, at 8 a.m. he altered course to N. 45 W.
This brought the enemy nearly astern, and at the same time _Penshurst_
slowed down to half speed. By this time the sun was above the horizon,
and the light was worse than before, but the submarine was apparently
altering course to cut off the _Wileyside_, and ignoring _Penshurst_.
Therefore, at 8.6 a.m. the latter altered course so as again to bring
the submarine abeam. This had the desired effect, for at 8.10 a.m.
the submarine fired a third shot, which fell about 200 yards short of
_Penshurst_, and this proved that Q-ship and submarine were closing.
Two minutes later _Penshurst_ stopped her engines and the usual ‘panic’
evolution was carried out, by which time the submarine had closed to
within 3,000 yards, and turned on a course parallel with the Q-ship,
reducing to slow speed and being just abaft the _Penshurst’s_ port beam
and silhouetted against the glare of the sun, three Germans being
seen standing in the conning-tower. In order to spin out the time,
the Q-ship’s boats were being turned out and lowered as clumsily as
possible, and now the U-boat sent along a couple more shots, one of
which fell over and the other short.
Thus far it had been a contest of brain, and Captain Grenfell had
succeeded in making the enemy conform to the British will. At 8.20
a.m., as there seemed no possibility of inducing the submarine to come
any closer, _Penshurst_ opened fire, but there was time to fire only
a couple of rounds from the 12-pounder and 6-pounder and three rounds
from the 3-pounder before the German hurriedly dived, for all three
guns had dropped their shots pretty close to the target. The shooting
had been done under difficult circumstances, for it was at a black spot
against a strong glare. When once the enemy submerged, _Penshurst_ went
full speed to the spot and dropped a depth charge, but the German had
escaped, and she would live to warn her sister submarines about the
Q-ship which had surprised her.
For this U-boat had had a careful look at _Penshurst_, and Captain
Grenfell could hardly hope to surprise the submarine again and bring
her to action, so he altered course to the eastward with the object of
intercepting another U-boat, whose presence had been reported at 11.15
that forenoon 5 miles north of Alderney. Very likely the submarine
with whom he had just been engaged would send out by her _telefunken_
wireless a full description of the Q-ship, so, as she steamed along,
_Penshurst_ now altered her appearance by painting herself a different
colour and by lowering the mizzen-mast during the night. Thus, when the
sun rose on November 30, on what was to be _Penshurst’s_ lucky day, she
seemed to be a totally different ship.
[Illustration: FIG. 10.—DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE APPROXIMATE MOVEMENTS OF
‘PENSHURST’ IN HER ACTION WITH SUBMARINE ON NOVEMBER 30, 1916.]
During the forenoon of November 30 we should have seen this transformed
_Penshurst_ going down Channel again well south of the Dorset chalk
cliffs. At noon she was in the position Lat. 50.11 N., Long. 2.31 W.
(see track chart), steering N. 89 W., when she intercepted a wireless
signal from the Weymouth-Guernsey S.S. _Ibex_ that a submarine had been
seen at 11.44 a.m. 20 miles N.W. of the Casquets; so the Q-ship altered
course towards this position, and at 1.50 p.m. the conning-tower
of a submarine was observed 5 miles to the southward, apparently
chasing a steamer to the westward. A few minutes later the German
turned eastward and then submerged. It was then that _Penshurst_ saw
a seaplane, which had come across the Channel from the Portland base,
fly over the submarine’s position and drop a bomb without effect. This
caused Captain Grenfell to reconstruct his plans, for it was hopeless
now to expect that the submarine would engage on the surface. On the
other hand, the Q-ship with her speed would be superior to this type
of submarine, which, when submerged, could not do better than 6 knots
at her maximum, but would probably be doing less than this. The weapon
should, therefore, be the depth charge, and not the gun. He decided to
co-operate with the seaplane, and ran down towards her.
[Illustration: Q SHIP “PENSHURST”
Showing bridge-screen dropped on port side and bridge gun ready for
action.
To face p. 114]
It was necessary first to get in touch with the airman and explain who
the ship was, so at 2.22 p.m., being now in Lat. 50 N., Long. 2.48
W., Captain Grenfell stopped his engines, and after some attempts at
communication by signal, the seaplane alighted on the water alongside.
Captain Grenfell was thus able to arrange with the pilot to direct
the Q-ship and fire a signal-light when the ship should be over the
submarine; a depth charge could then be let go. But the best-laid
schemes of seamen and airmen sometimes went wrong: for, just after the
seaplane had risen into the air, she crashed on to the water, broke a
wing, knocked off her floats and began to sink. This was annoying at a
time when the Q-ship wanted to be thinking of nothing except the enemy;
but _Penshurst_ lowered her gig and rescued the airmen, then went
alongside the injured seaplane, grappled it, and was preparing to hoist
it on board when at 3.14 p.m. a shell dropped into the sea 200 yards
ahead of the ship. Other shots quickly followed, and then the submarine
was sighted about 6,000 yards on the port quarter. How the enemy must
have laughed as, through his periscope, he saw the aircraft which so
recently had been the aggressor, now a wreck! How certain a victim the
innocent-looking steamer seemed to him!
Captain Grenfell, by change of circumstances, had once more to modify
his plans, stop all salvage work, cast off the seaplane and swing in
his derrick, which was to have hoisted the latter in. The men in the
gig could not be left, and he was faced with two alternatives. Either
he could hoist the gig on the port quarter in full view of the enemy,
or he could tow her alongside to starboard, and risk her being seen. He
chose the latter, and at 3.24 p.m. proceeded on a south-westerly course
at slow speed. The submarine now came up right astern, so course had to
be altered gradually to keep the German on the port quarter and out of
sight of the gig.
Slowly the submarine overhauled the Q-ship, firing at intervals, and
at 4.12 p.m., when she was within 1,000 yards, _Penshurst_ stopped
her engines, the panic party ‘abandoned’ ship, and the two boat-loads
pulled away to starboard. The German now sheered out to port, swept
round on _Penshurst’s_ port beam, and passed close under the stern of
her with the object of securing the ship’s papers from the captain,
whom the enemy supposed to be in the boats. A party of Germans
would then have boarded the ship and sunk her with bombs. But these
intentions were suddenly frustrated at 4.26 p.m., when, the submarine
being on _Penshurst’s_ starboard quarter and all the latter’s guns
bearing, the British ship opened fire at the delightfully convenient
range of only 250 yards. This was the last thing the enemy was
expecting. No one was standing by her 8·8-centimetre gun forward of the
conning-tower, the attention of all the Germans on deck being directed
towards the Q-ship’s boats rowing about. Thus completely and utterly
surprised, the Germans never made any attempt to return the fire. The
second shot, fired from _Penshurst’s_ starboard 3-pounder, penetrated
right through into the engine-room and prevented the submarine from
submerging. At this ridiculous range the British guns were able to be
worked at their maximum rapidity, so that over eighty rounds were fired
and almost every shot took effect. Very soon the submarine’s hull was
fairly riddled with holes, and large parts of the conning-tower and
hull plating were blown away by the shells from the 12-pounder.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “PENSHURST”
This shows a dress rehearsal. The “panic party” are seen rowing away
in one of the ship’s boats, the White Ensign is being hoisted on the
foremast and the guns are about to open fire. In this picture she has
her mizzen mast up.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “PENSHURST” AT SEA
Seen with only two masts, the mizzen having been lowered. The crew’s
washing is displayed as in a tramp steamer. The funnel has been
painted a different colour. But behind the white wind screen on the
lower bridge is a 6-pounder gun—one each side—which can fire from
ahead to astern. Inside the boat on the main hatch just forward of
the funnel is the dummy boat in which a 12-pounder is concealed. Two
3-pounders are in the after deck-house. Depth charges were released
through ports in the counter.
To face p. 116]
After only ten minutes’ engagement the submarine foundered, bows
first, but not before _Penshurst’s_ boats had taken off the survivors
and also those who had leapt into the sea. These survivors included
Ober-Leutnant Erich Noodt, Leutnant Karl Bartel, Ingenieur-Aspirant
Eigler, and thirteen of the crew; but seven had been killed. Thus
perished UB 19, who had left Zeebrugge on November 22, having come via
the Straits of Dover. She was about 118 feet long, painted grey, had
the one gun, two periscopes, and had been built the year previous.
She was of the smaller class of submarines belonging to the Flanders
flotilla which operated for three weeks on end in the waters of the
English Channel, carrying only three torpedoes, one of which had
already been used to sink a Norwegian ship. It was learned from her
crew that her submerged speed was about 4 knots; so Captain Grenfell,
but for the accident to the sea-plane, would have been able to get
right over her and destroy her by depth charge.
Thus, at length, after a year of hard work, disappointment, and all
kinds of weather, Commander Grenfell, by his doggedness and downright
skill, had scored his first success. The King rewarded him with a
D.S.O., another officer received the D.S.C., and one of the crew the
D.S.M. The ship’s complement consisted of Commander Grenfell, three
temporary (acting) R.N.R. lieutenants, and one assistant paymaster,
who was engaged during the action in taking notes. The crew numbered
fifty-six, which included R.N.R. and R.N.V.R. ratings. The sum of
£1,000 was awarded to the ship, and, after the war, Lord Sterndale in
the Prize Court awarded a further sum as prize bounty.
The gallant _Penshurst_ had not long to wait for her next adventure.
December passed, and on January 14, 1917, there was another and newer
UB boat ready for her. It was ten minutes to four in the afternoon,
and the Q-ship was in Lat. 50.9 N., Long. 1.46 W.—that is to say,
between the Isle of Wight and Alderney, when she saw a submarine
heading towards her. Five minutes later, the German, when 3,000 yards
off, fired, but the shot fell short. The Q-ship then stopped her
engines, went to ‘panic’ stations, and sent away her boats with the
‘abandon ship’ party. _Penshurst_ then gradually fell off to port,
and lay with her head about W.N.W., bringing the submarine on the
starboard bow. Closing rapidly on this bearing, the UB boat kept firing
at intervals, and when about 700 yards off turned as though to cross
Captain Grenfell’s bows. The latter withheld his fire, thinking the
enemy was going round to the boats on the port quarter, and he would
be able to get her at close range. But the German stopped in this
position, exposing her broadside, and quickened her rate of fire,
hitting the steamer twice in succession. It was this kind of experience
which always tested the discipline and training of the Q-ship, as a
well-trained boxer can receive punishment without losing his temper,
knowing his chance will come presently.
[Illustration: FIG. 11.—DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE APPROXIMATE MOVEMENTS OF
‘PENSHURST’ IN HER ACTION WITH SUBMARINE ON JANUARY 14, 1917.]
The first hit broke an awning ridge-pole on _Penshurst’s_ bridge,
the second shell struck the angle of the lower bridge, severing
the engine-room telegraph connections and the pipe connecting the
hydraulic release gear, by means of which the depth charge aft could
be let go from the bridge. This shell also killed the gun-layer and
loading-number of the 6-pounder, wounding its breech-worker and the
signalman who was standing by to hoist the White Ensign. So at 4.24
p.m. _Penshurst_ opened fire, her first shot from the 12-pounder
hitting the base of the enemy’s conning-tower and causing a large
explosion, as though the ammunition had been exploded. Large parts of
the conning-tower were seen to be blown away, and a big volume of black
smoke arose. The second British shot from this gun hit the enemy a
little abaft the conning-tower and also visibly damaged the hull. The
starboard 3-pounder hit the lower part of the conning-tower at least
four times, and then the enemy sank by the stern. _Penshurst_ wanted to
make sure, so steamed ahead and dropped depth charges over her, then
picked up her boats and made for Portland, where she arrived at ten
o’clock that evening and sent her wounded to the Naval Hospital. It
had been another excellent day’s work, for UB 37, one of those modern
craft fitted with net-cutters forward for the purpose of cutting a
way through the Dover Straits barrage, had been definitely destroyed
without a single survivor. More rewards followed, and, later on, more
prize bounty.
_Penshurst_ resumed her cruising, and just about a month later she
was in the western approach to the English Channel, the exact date
being February 20, and the position Lat. 49.21 N., Long. 6.16 W. At
12.36 p.m. a German submarine rose to the surface, and a quarter of
an hour later began firing at a range of 3,000 yards. _Penshurst_
then ‘abandoned’ ship, and at 1.4 p.m. opened fire and scored a hit
with her 6-pounder. At 100 yards range the other guns came into
action, and the enemy was hit above the waterline in the centre of the
conning-tower and abaft this superstructure. She then submerged and was
depth-charged; yet this submarine, in spite of all this, was not sunk.
This again illustrated the statement already made that a submarine
could be severely holed and yet be able to get back home. A still more
illuminating example is to be found in the following incident.
Only two days had elapsed and _Penshurst_ was again busily engaged. It
was at 11.34 a.m., February 22, and the ship was off the south coast
of Ireland, the exact position being Lat. 51.56 N., Long. 6.46 W.
_Penshurst_ was steering S. 89 W. when she saw a submarine steering
west. The steam-ship therefore steamed at her utmost speed, but could
not get up to her, for we may as well mention that this was U 84, a
very up-to-date submarine which had a surface speed of 16 knots and
could do her 9 knots submerged for a whole hour. It is not to be
wondered, therefore, that she could run away from this slow steamer and
at 11.55 a.m. disappear. At this time there was in sight 8 miles away
H.M.S. _Alyssum_, one of Admiral Bayly’s sloops based on Queenstown,
who was escorting the large four-masted S.S. _Canadian_. As _Penshurst_
proceeded, she sighted at 12.18 p.m. a boat with men in it, these being
from the torpedoed sailing ship _Invercauld_, which had been sunk 22
miles S.E. of Mine Head, Ireland, that same day. A few minutes later
and _Penshurst_ observed the keel of this ship floating bottom up. At
12.35 the periscopes of U 84 were seen to emerge 400 yards on the port
beam, and the track of a torpedo making straight for the midships of
_Penshurst_. By at once starboarding the helm, disaster was avoided,
but the torpedo passed as close as 15 feet.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “PENSHURST”
In this dummy boat mounted on the main hatch is seen hidden the
12-pounder gun. The sides of the boat were movable. The voice pipe from
the bridge to the two after guns was lashed to the derrick and thus
hidden from the enemy.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “PENSHURST”
This shows how the concealed 12-pounder gun could be brought into
action by removing the boat’s sides. The bow end of the boat has been
moved to the far side of the gun, where Captain Grenfell, attired in
his “mystery” rig of a master mariner, is seen standing. As will be
seen from the other photograph, the sides of the boat when in position
were a perfect fit. The coil of rope was intended to hide the gun’s
pedestal from observation by the enemy.
To face p. 120]
The Q-ship then altered course to E. 1/2 S. as though running away,
and reduced to half speed to allow the enemy to come up. Boats were
turned out, the panic party stood by with lifebelts on, and just after
one o’clock, at 3,500 yards range, the U-boat opened fire, whereupon
the Q-ship ‘abandoned’ ship. Then the enemy closed to 1,500 yards on
the starboard bow, but cautiously submerged, and then, closely and
leisurely, inspected the ship from the periscope. Having done that,
and apparently been quite satisfied that this was no trap-ship, the
submarine emerged on the port quarter, 600 yards away and broadside on.
One German officer then came out of the conning-tower and two other
men looked out of the hatch. The first then shouted for the captain to
come alongside with the ship’s papers, but the British petty officer in
charge of the boat party, in order to gain valuable time, ingeniously
pretended not to understand. The German then repeated his order, so
the petty officer replied he would bring the boat round by the stern,
the intention, of course, secretly being for the purpose of affording
_Penshurst_ a clear range.
The petty officer’s crew had not rowed more than three strokes when
bang went _Penshurst’s_ guns, at which the German officer leapt through
the hatch of his conning-tower, a shot hitting the after part of
this superstructure just as the officer disappeared. Two more shells
got home in the centre, another hit the hull abaft the conning-tower
and burst, one holing the hull below the conning-tower’s base. The
submarine dived, but after a few minutes her bows came up out of the
water at a steep angle. Fire was then reopened at her, and one shot
was seen to go through her side, and then once more she submerged. Two
depth charges were dropped near the spot and exploded, and then again
the bows of the enemy broke surface at a steep angle, but 3,000 yards
to the westward. Next the after deck came to the surface, and all the
crew came out and lined the deck. _Penshurst_ resumed shelling, hit
her again, but U 84 now returned the fire. She was a big submarine,
230 feet long, armed with a 4·1-inch and a 22-pounder, and a dozen
torpedoes which could be fired from six tubes.
But now approached H.M.S. _Alyssum_ from the north and began to shell
the enemy, so that the latter made off to the southward. The speed of
_Penshurst_ was 8 knots—that is to say, about half that of the enemy.
Nor could the sloop overtake the latter, who, after being chased for
three hours, disappeared at 5.12 p.m. These sloops had been built
for mine-sweeping work, and not as anti-submarine ships, and it was
only because of the shortage of destroyers—thanks largely to the
demands in this respect by the Grand Fleet—that these single-screwed,
comparatively slow vessels were engaged on escort and patrol duties.
In this engagement between the Q-ship and submarine everything had
been done that could have been brought about by a most experienced,
skilful, and determined British officer. His guns had kept on hitting,
and yet the enemy had escaped. Fortunately we now know the story
from the enemy’s side, as an account of this incident was published
in the German Press, and bears out all that has been said above. The
German version mentions that U 84 took the British ship for a tank
steamer. This is not in the least surprising, for the _Penshurst_ was
one of those small ships with her engines aft just as you see in an
‘oil-tanker,’ and such a craft was sure enough bait for any submarine.
The Germans say the torpedo was fired at 765 yards range, and missed
because the British ship was going ‘faster than we supposed.’ The
Q-ship’s disguise was perfect, for it was not until she opened
fire that she was suspected of being a ‘trap.’ As to the latter’s
shelling, the German account admits that the superstructure abaft the
conning-tower was at once penetrated, and that hardly had the hatch
been closed than ‘there is a sharp report in the conning-tower, a
yellow flash, and explosive gases fill the air. A shell has penetrated
the side of the conning-tower and exploded inside.’ The result was
that one man was injured. She then dived, and at 65·6 feet they felt
the two depth charges, which made the boat tremble and put out some of
the electric lights. The forward hydroplane jammed, and this was the
reason she came to the surface at such a steep angle. The gyro compass,
the main rudder, the trimming pump, and all the control apparatus also
broke down. But what about the leaks made by the shells? These were
plugged, the tricolour flag of the French sailing ship _Bayonne_, which
they had sunk on February 17 in the English Channel, being also used
for that purpose.
The German account goes on to say this submarine was now compelled to
proceed on the surface and run away, and the numerous men then seen on
her deck were engaged in bringing up ammunition, ‘all the men who are
not occupied below’ being thus employed. The submarine at first took
_Alyssum_ for a destroyer, and certainly bow on she was not unlike
one. It needs little imagination to realize how narrowly the enemy had
escaped, and the moral effect which was made on the German crew. We
know now that a German petty officer was killed and an officer wounded.
It mattered little that the conning-tower was holed, for, as has been
already pointed out, this is not an essential part of the submarine’s
construction. By closing the hatch on deck no water could get down
into the hull from here; and the other holes being also plugged, U 84
could thus get back home by keeping out to sea during daylight hours,
avoiding our patrols, and passing headlands under cover of night.
A month later _Penshurst_ again fought a sharp action under Commander
Grenfell at the eastern end of the English Channel, the position being
in Lat. 50.28 N., Long. 0.12 W. In this engagement she did not sink the
enemy, but was herself badly damaged and so seriously holed that she
had to be towed to Portsmouth the following day. Here she underwent
a long refit, and then went forth to fight again and to fight, as
ever, splendidly. She had a new commanding officer, Lieutenant Cedric
Naylor, R.N.R., who had been second-in-command to Captain Grenfell, now
invalided ashore, and this lieutenant well maintained the traditions
of the Q-service, and added to the distinctions won by this wonderful
ship. Oft in danger, but always emerging from the tightest of corners,
leaving the enemy seriously wounded, the gallant _Penshurst_ carried
on.
[Illustration: THE GALLANT CAPTAIN AND OFFICERS OF Q-SHIP “PENSHURST”
From left to right: Paymaster-Lieut. W. R. Ashton, R.N.R.; Lieut. S. P.
R. White, R.N.R.; Sub-Lieut. J. R. Stenhouse, R.N.R. (in command of the
“Aurora” in Sir E. Shackleton’s Antarctic Expedition, 1914-15); Captain
F. H. Grenfell, R.N.; Lieut. C. Naylor, R.N.R. (First Lieut.); and
Lieut. W. S. Harrison, R.N.R. (Navigating Officer).]
[Illustration: MEN OF THE Q SHIP “PENSHURST”
The ship’s gunlayers and carpenter. The man in the centre wearing
service uniform was the gunlayer of the bridge 6-pounder who was killed
in the action of January 14, 1917. The others are wearing their Q-ship
“rig.”
To face p. 124]
On July 2 she was steaming her 8 knots, as usual, and was in the
western approaches (Lat. 49.10 N., Long. 8.25 W.), when at 1.30 p.m. a
submarine was seen crossing the ship’s bows 6,000 yards away. She dived
and waited for _Penshurst_ to approach in the manner of attack outlined
in a previous chapter as being the tactics of a submarine. Then, after
a while, the periscope was sighted 500 yards away on the port beam, so
_Penshurst_, knowing a torpedo was imminent, waited, and, the torpedo
having been sent, altered course to avoid it, just missing by a matter
of 10 feet. The ship’s company then went to ‘panic’ stations and the
ship was ‘abandoned.’ At 3.35 p.m. the enemy came to the surface
5,000 yards away on the starboard quarter, at 3.39 p.m. opened fire
and continued until 4.13 p.m., when _Penshurst_ herself started firing
at 4,500 yards, succeeding in hitting the enemy sixteen times, and
undoubtedly seriously damaging him. The submarine managed to pass out
of range and was not sunk. Three destroyers now came on the scene and
gave chase, but the German got away. For this engagement Lieutenant
Naylor received the D.S.O.
In accordance with _Penshurst’s_ previous experience, not many weeks
elapsed before she was again in combat. It was the following August 19,
and she was cruising again in the western approaches. That morning a
steamship had sighted a submarine, and _Penshurst_, who was now in Lat.
47.45 N., Long. 8.35 W., was steering S. 50 W., doing 8 knots, when she
saw the enemy 6 miles ahead steering across the bows, evidently making
the ‘approach’ in his tactics. There was little north-west wind, a
moderate westerly swell, and the sky was clear, but there was a strong
glare from the sun. At 5.8 p.m. the enemy dived, and Lieutenant Naylor
estimated that she would probably attack with torpedo about 5.45 p.m.
Exactly at 5.44 a torpedo was observed to break water 1,000 yards from
the ship, 3 points on the starboard bow, just forward of the sun’s
rays. _Penshurst_ put her helm hard aport, and at 5.45 the torpedo
struck her—but fortunately it was only a glancing blow immediately
below the bridge. The smart handling of the ship had thus saved her
from being struck further aft, where the consequences would have been
even more serious. As it was, the explosion caused a high volume of
water to rise in such quantities that upper and lower bridges and after
deck were flooded, overwhelming the gun’s crew concealed there, and
filling the starboard boat hanging in the davits over 70 feet away from
the point of impact. Furthermore, it caused the ship to take a heavy
list to starboard so that the sea poured in over the bulwarks, and she
afterwards rolled to port, the water then pouring in on this side also.
Some of the crew were hurled with force against the ceiling of the
cabins, but perfect discipline still continued, as might well be
expected with such a well-tried crew. She had been torpedoed in No. 2
hold, the starboard side of the lower bridge had been stripped, and
unfortunately the 12-pounder there kept screened was thus exposed.
Unfortunately, too, the sides of the dummy boat amidships, which hid
another 12-pounder, were thrown down by the explosion, thus exposing
this gun, flooding the magazine, putting out of action all controls
from the bridge as well as the ship’s compasses and so on. What was to
be done now? Lieutenant Naylor wisely decided not to ‘abandon’ ship
since the guns had been disclosed; the ship could not be manœuvred so
as to hide this side, and the enemy would probably make another attack.
She was therefore kept under way, the steering gear was connected up
with the main steering engines, the wireless repaired, and at 5.58 a
general signal was sent out to H.M. ships requesting assistance.
[Illustration: FIG. 12.—THE HUMOROUS SIDE OF Q-SHIP WARFARE.
This amusing sketch of _Penshurst_, by one of her officers, shows
her being shelled by a submarine and the panic party in two boats
rowing off. In the bows of each boat one of the crew is semaphoring.
BILL (_in boat No. 1_): ‘’Arry!’ ’ARRY (_in boat No. 2_): ‘What?’
BILL (_anxiously_): ‘Did yer make the tea afore we left ‘er?’ ’ARRY:
‘Nar!’ BILL (_much relieved_): ‘Good!’]
At five minutes past six the submarine showed herself on the port
quarter 6,000 yards away. This made things better, for if the enemy
had not already observed the exposed guns she could still be kept
in ignorance, as the sides of the false boat had in the meantime
been replaced in position. Therefore the 3-pounder on the top of the
gunhouse aft opened fire at 5,000 yards. This was quite a normal
happening, for many a small mercantile steamer was thus armed
defensively. The enemy replied, and at 6.21, as the latter showed no
intention of decreasing the range, _Penshurst_ opened fire with all
guns on the port side, and appeared to hit, so that at 6.24 the enemy
submerged. Meanwhile the _Penshurst_ was not under control and steamed
round in circles, but help was approaching, for at 6.50 p.m. H.M.S.
_Leonidas_ wirelessed saying she would reach _Penshurst_ at 7.30 p.m.
At 7.5 the submarine was 7 miles astern, waiting stationary to see
what would happen, but at 7.26 she dived on observing the approaching
destroyer. Nightfall came, and as the water was still gaining in
the Q-ship, all the men who could be spared were transferred to the
_Leonidas_. _Penshurst_ then shaped a course E.N.E. for Plymouth, and
next day at 1.30 p.m. was taken in tow by a tug which had been sent out
with two armed trawlers from the Scillies Naval Base. Thus, wounded yet
not beaten, she passed through Plymouth Sound, and on August 21 made
fast to a Devonport jetty, happily having suffered no casualties to any
of her personnel. Lieutenant Naylor received a bar to his D.S.O., the
ship had a thorough refit, and in place of a 12-pounder she was now
given a 4-inch gun, which would enable her to fight the 4·1-inch U-boat
gun on more equal terms.
Then, still commanded by Lieutenant Naylor, she went forth again. We
can pass over the intervening weeks and come to Christmas Eve, 1917. At
a time when most non-combatants ashore were about to take part in the
great festival, this most gallant ship, heroine of so many fights, was
in the direst straits. At midday she was approaching the southern end
of the Irish Sea, shaping a course to intercept a submarine operating
off the Smalls, when ten minutes later she sighted a U-boat two points
on the port bow, in Lat. 51.31 N., Long. 5.33 W., about 5 miles ahead,
steering at right angles to _Penshurst_ and beginning the ‘approach’ of
her attacking tactics. _Penshurst_ was making her usual 8 knots, and at
12.12 p.m. the enemy, as was expected, submerged. Although the Q-ship
zigzagged and tried to make the enemy break surface astern and attack
by gunfire, the German was too good at his own job, and at 1.31 p.m.
came the torpedo, fired from 300 yards away, half a point forward of
the port beam. Only the track of the torpedo was seen, the ship’s helm
was put hard aport, but the torpedo could not be avoided and struck the
ship between the boilers and engine-room.
Violent was the explosion, great was the damage, so that the ship
stopped dead and began to settle by the stern. The sides of the dummy
boat amidships had fallen down, thus exposing the midships 4-inch gun,
and the after gunhouse had also collapsed, revealing the guns here
placed, though the 12-pounder guns on the bridge remained intact and
concealed, with the guns’ crews close up and out of sight. The ship was
now ‘abandoned,’ and panic parties were sent away in the one remaining
boat and two rafts. The enemy, still submerged, proceeded to circle the
ship, inspect her closely, approach the boat and rafts, and then at
2.40 p.m. rose to the surface on the port bow 250 yards off and began
shelling _Penshurst_ with her after gun. The Q-ship was about to open
fire, but, owing to having settled down so much by the stern, the gun
there could not be sufficiently depressed to bear. It was only when
the ship rolled or pitched enough that advantage was taken of such
movement and the enemy fired at. Six rounds were fired, the second
hitting the submarine on the starboard side of the deck forward, the
fourth hitting abaft the conning-tower. The enemy dived, and at 3.47
p.m. reappeared on the starboard beam 5 miles away. But now one of H.M.
P-boats, those low-lying, specially constructed anti-submarine craft,
rather like a torpedo-boat, arrived on the scene, so that the submarine
was frightened away and not sighted again on that day, though she was
probably the one sunk by a P-boat on Christmas Day.
As for _Penshurst_, help had come too late. The crew were saved, but
the ship herself sank at 8.5 p.m. on December 24, 1917. Lieutenant
Cedric Naylor, who already possessed the decorations of D.S.O. and bar
and D.S.C., and had for his gallantry been transferred from R.N.R. to
the Royal Navy, now received a second bar to his D.S.O., and Lieutenant
E. Hutchison, R.N.R., received a D.S.O. Thus after two years of the
most strenuous service, full of honours, this _Penshurst_ ended
her glorious life as a man-of-war. Wounded, scar-stained, repaired
and refitted, her gallant crew, so splendidly trained by Captain
Grenfell, had kept taking her to sea along the lanes of enemy activity.
Insignificant to look at, when you passed her on patrol you would
never have guessed the amount of romance and history contained in her
hull. Naval history has no use for hysteria and for the sensational
exaggeration of ‘stunt’ journalism, but it is difficult to write calmly
of the great deeds performed in these most unheroic-looking ships.
To-day some Q-ship officers and men are walking about looking for jobs,
and there are not ships in commission to employ them. But yesterday
they were breaking the spirit of the U-boat personnel, risking their
lives to the uttermost limits in the endeavour to render ineffectual
the submarine blockade and the starvation of the nation.
Bravery such as we have seen in this and other chapters was greater
than even appears: for, having once revealed the identity of your ship
as a man-of-war, the wounded submarine would remember you, however
much you might disguise yourself; and the next time he returned, as
he usually did, to the same station, he would do his best to get you,
even if he spent hours and days over the effort. That officers and men
willingly, eagerly, went to sea in the same Q-ships, time after time,
when they might have obtained, and would certainly have deserved, a
less trying appointment afloat or ashore, is surely a positive proof
that we rightly pride ourselves on our British seamanhood. Through the
centuries we have bred and fostered and even discouraged this spirit.
In half-decked boats, in carracks, galleons, wooden walls, fishing
boats, lifeboats, pleasure craft; in steam, and steel-hulled motor,
cargo ships, in liner and tramp and small coaster, this seamanlike
character has been trained, developed, and kept alive, and now in the
Q-ship service it reaches its apotheosis. For all that is courageous,
enduring, and inspiring among the stories of the sea in any period, can
you beat it? Can you even equal it?