FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS
One of the great lessons of the Great War was the inter-relation of
international politics and warfare. It was an old lesson indeed, but
modern conditions emphasized it once more. We have already seen that
the torpedoing in 1915 of the Atlantic liners _Lusitania_ and _Arabic_
caused pressure to be put on the German Government by the United States
of America. In the spring of 1916 the submarine campaign, for the
Germans, was proceeding very satisfactorily. In February they had sunk
24,059 tons of British merchant shipping, in March they sank 83,492
tons, in April 120,540 tons; but in May this dropped suddenly to 42,165
tons. What was the reason for this sudden fall?
The answer is as follows: On March 24, 1916, the cross-Channel S.S.
_Sussex_ was torpedoed by a German submarine, and it happened that
many citizens of the U.S.A. were on board at the time and several were
killed. This again raised the question of relations between the U.S.A.
and Germany, the _New York World_ going so far as to ask, ‘Whether
anything is to be gained by maintaining any longer the ghastly pretence
of friendly diplomatic correspondence with a Power notoriously lacking
in truth and honour.’ On April 20, therefore, the U.S.A. presented
a very sharp note to the German Government, protesting against the
wrongfulness of the submarine campaign waged versus commerce, and
threatened to break off diplomatic relations. The result of this was
that Germany had to give way, and sent orders to her naval staff to
the effect that submarine warfare henceforth was to be carried on in
accordance with Prize Law: that is to say, the U-boats—so Admiral
Scheer interpreted it—were ‘to rise to the surface and stop ships,
examine papers, and all passengers and crew to leave the ship before
sinking her.’
Now this did not appeal to the German mind at all. ‘As war waged
according to Prize Law by U-boats,’ wrote Admiral Scheer,[3] ‘in the
waters around England could not possibly have any success, but, on the
contrary, must expose the boats to the greatest dangers, I recalled
all the U-boats by wireless, and announced that the U-boat campaign
against British commerce had ceased.’ Thus we find that after April
26 the sinkings of British merchant ships became low until they began
to increase in September, 1916, and then rapidly mounted up until in
April, 1917, they had reached their maximum for the whole war with
516,394 tons. It is to be noted that after May 8, until July 5, 1916,
no sinkings by U-boats occurred in home waters, although the sinkings
went on in the Mediterranean, where risk of collision with American
interests was less likely to occur.
Having regard to the increasing utility and efficiency of the Q-ships,
we can well understand Admiral Scheer’s objection to U-boats rising
to the surface, examining the ship’s papers, and allowing everyone to
leave the ship before sinking her. This was the recognized law, and
entirely within its rights the Q-ship made full use of this until she
hoisted the White Ensign and became suddenly a warship. It shows the
curious mental temper of the German that he would gamble only when he
had the dice loaded in his favour. He had his Q-ships, which, under
other names, endeavoured and indeed were able to pass through our
blockade, and go raiding round the world; but until his submarines
could go at it ruthlessly, he had not the same keenness. It was on
February 1, 1917, that his Unrestricted Submarine Campaign began,
and this was a convenient date, seeing that Germany had by this time
109 submarines. We know these facts beyond dispute, for a year after
the signing of Armistice Germany held a ‘General National Assembly
Committee of Inquiry’ into the war, and long accounts were published
in the Press. One of the most interesting witnesses was Admiral von
Capelle, who, in March, 1916, had succeeded von Tirpitz as Minister
of Marine; and from the former’s lips it was learned that one of the
main reasons why Germany in 1916 built so few submarines was the
Battle of Jutland; for the damage inflicted on the High Sea Fleet
necessitated taking workmen away from submarine construction to do
repairs on the big ships. The number and intensity of the minefields
laid by the British in German waters in that year caused Germany to
build many minesweepers to keep clear the harbour exits. This also,
he says, took men away from submarine building. It needed a couple of
years to build the larger U-boats and a year to build the smaller ones;
and though at the beginning of the Unrestricted Campaign in February,
1917, there were on paper 109 German submarines, and before the end
of the war, in spite of sinkings by Allied forces, the number even
averaged 127, yet there were never more than 76 actually in service
at one time, and frequently the number was half this amount. For the
Germans divided the seas up into so many stations, and for each station
five submarines were required, thus: one actually at work in the area,
one just relieved on her way home for rest and refit, a third on her
way out from refit to relieve number one, while two others were being
overhauled by dockyard hands. Geographically Germany was unfortunately
situated for attacking the shipping reaching the British Isles from the
Atlantic and Bay of Biscay. Before the submarines could get into the
Atlantic they had either to negotiate the Dover Straits or go round the
North of Scotland. The first was risky, especially for the bigger and
more valuable submarines, and during 1918 became even highly dangerous;
but the second, especially during the boisterous winter months, knocked
the submarines about to such an extent that they kept the dockyards
busier than otherwise.
All this variation of U-boat activity reacted on the rise, development,
and wane of the Q-ship. In the early part of 1917, when the submarine
campaign was at its height, the Q-ships were at the top of their
utility. It was no longer any hole-and-corner service, relying on a
few keen, ingenious brains at one or two naval bases, but became a
special department in the Admiralty, who selected the ships, arranged
for the requisite disguises, and chose the personnel. The menace
to the country’s food had by this time become so serious—a matter
of a very few weeks, as we have since learned, separated us from
starvation—that every anti-submarine method had to be carried out
with vigour, and at that time no method promised greater success than
these mystery ships. Altogether about 180 vessels of various sorts
were taken up and commissioned as Q-ships. Apart from the usual tramp
steamers and colliers and disguised trawlers, thirty-four sloops
and sixteen converted P-boats, named now ‘PQ’s,’ were equipped. The
P-boat, as mentioned on a previous page, was a low-lying craft rather
like a torpedo-boat; but her great feature was her underwater design.
She was so handy and had a special forefoot that if once she got near
to a submarine the latter would certainly be rammed; in one case the
P-boat went clean through the submarine’s hull. The next stage, then,
was to build a suitable superstructure on this handy hull, so that the
ship had all the appearance of a small merchant ship. Because of her
shallow, deceptive draught she was not likely to be torpedoed, whereas
her extreme mobility was very valuable.
In every port all over the country numerous passenger and tramp
steamers and sailing ships were inspected and found unsuitable owing
to their peculiar structure or the impossibility of effective disguise
combined with a sufficient bearing of the disguised guns. All this
meant a great deal of thought and inventive genius, the tonnage as
a rule ranging from 200 to 4,000, and the ships being sent to work
from Queenstown, Longhope, Peterhead, Granton, Lowestoft, Portsmouth,
Plymouth, Falmouth, Milford, Malta, and Gibraltar. And when you ask
what was the net result of these Q-ships, the whole answer cannot be
given in mere figures. Generally they greatly assisted the merchantman,
for it made the U-boat captain very cautious, and there are instances
where he desisted from attacking a real merchant ship for the reason
that something about her suggested a Q-ship. In over eighty cases
Q-ships damaged German submarines and thus sent them home licking their
wounds, anxious only to be left alone for a while. This accounts for
some of those instances when a merchant ship, on seeing a submarine
proceeding on the surface, was surprised to find that the German did
not attack. Thus the Q-ship had temporarily put a stop to sinkings by
that submarine. But apart from these indirect, yet no less valuable,
results, no fewer than eleven submarines were directly sent to their
doom of all the 203 German U-craft sunk during the war from various
causes, including mines and accidents.
But as time went on it became inevitable that the more a Q-ship
operated the more likely would she be recognized and the less useful
would be her work. By August, 1917, Q-ships were having a most
difficult time, and during that month alone six Q-ships were lost.
By September their success, broadly speaking, was on the wane. This,
however, does not mean that their service had ceased to be productive
or that they were no longer deemed worth while. On the contrary, as
we shall see presently, they were to perform more wonderful work, and
the number of Q-ships was actually increased, especially in respect
of sailing ships in home waters; but those which happened to make an
unsuccessful attack were at once ordered to return to their base and
alter both rig and disguise. Similarly, in the Mediterranean, where
the submarines were doing us so much harm, the number of Q-ships was
increased, and one was cleverly included in the outward-bound convoys,
to drop astern as soon as in the danger zone, after the manner of many
a lame-duck merchantman whose engines had caused him to straggle. Then
would come the Q-ship’s chance, when she revealed herself as a warship
and fooled the submarine from attacking the convoy, which had just
disappeared over the horizon in safety.
The converted ‘flower’ class sloops, originally built as minesweepers,
but by the able work of the naval dockyard staff now made to resemble
little merchantmen, were having a busy time. _Tulip_ (Q 12), for
instance, which had begun her Q-ship service at the end of August,
1916, was sunk eight months later by a submarine in the Atlantic and
her captain taken prisoner, though eighty survivors were picked up by
the British destroyer _Mary Rose_ and landed in Queenstown.[4] The
sloop _Viola_ began this special work towards the end of September,
1916, and a month later was shelled by a submarine, who suddenly gave
up the attack and made off to the northward, having evidently realized
the sloop’s disguise, which none but an expert seafarer could have
penetrated. Now, in each submarine there was usually carried as warrant
navigating officer a man who had served in German liners and freighters
and would be familiar with the shipping normally to be found in the
area to which each U-boat was assigned. In this particular incident
his practised eye had evidently been struck by the position of the
above-water discharge being vertically under the imitation cargo hatch
and derrick forward of the mainmast. These were important details which
had to be watched if the disguise was to be successful.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “TULIP”
This vessel was originally built as a sloop, but was given a false
stern and generally altered to resemble a merchantman.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “TAMARISK”
Like the “Tulip,” this vessel was originally built as a warship. She
was cleverly altered so that both in hull and upperworks she resembled
a merchant steamer.
To face p. 138]
Another converted sloop was _Tamarisk_, who began that rôle at the end
of July, 1916, and was commanded by Lieutenant John W. Williams, R.N.R.
Towards the end of November she was shelled by a submarine at long
range, so that the Q-ship had to declare herself and reply, whereupon
the enemy beat a retreat and dived. Hitherto the excellent Q-ship
gunnery had depended on the fact that first-class men had been selected
who would be able at short range to score hits with the first or second
rounds. But this incident of the _Tamarisk_, involving at least 6,000
yards range, showed that a small range-finder would be very useful, and
this was accordingly supplied. Other sloops thus converted to resemble
merchantmen were the _Begonia_, _Aubrietia_, _Salvia_, _Heather_, and
so on.
The Q-ships operated not merely in the North Atlantic, English Channel,
North Sea, and Mediterranean, but in such areas as off Lapland and the
other side of the North and South Atlantic. For instance, the S.S.
_Intaba_ (Q 2), under Commander Frank Powell, on December 8, 1916, was
in action with a submarine not far from the Kola Inlet, and had been
sent to these northern latitudes inasmuch as German submarines for
some time had been sinking our merchant ships off that coast. Another
Q-ship operated with a British E-class submarine near Madeira and the
Canaries; and another Q-ship was in the South Atlantic looking for a
German raider, At other times there were the ocean-going submarines
_Deutschland_ and _Bremen_ to be looked out for. There was thus plenty
of work to be carried out by these decoy vessels in almost every sea.
But it was especially those Q-ships based on Queenstown who had to
bear the brunt of the submarine warfare. Strategically, Queenstown
was an outpost of the British Isles, and there was scarcely a day in
the week when one Q-ship was not leaving or entering Queenstown, or in
the Haulbowline Dockyard being got ready for her next ‘hush’ cruise.
Bearing in mind that this base was in a country whose inhabitants
were largely anti-British, that there had been a great rising in
Dublin at Eastertide, 1916, and that the German disguised S.S. _Aud_
had made an ineffectual attempt to land a cargo of arms, and that
Sir Roger Casement had arrived, it may well be realized how great
was the responsible task of enshrouding these decoys in secrecy.
Perhaps for weeks a recently requisitioned ship would be alongside
the dockyard quay having her necessary disguises made, and yet the
enemy knew nothing about it until he found himself surprised, and
forced to keep at long range or hide himself in the depths of the sea.
Sound organization, constant personal attention on the part of the
Commander-in-Chief, and loyal, enthusiastic co-operation on the part
of the officers and men, achieved the successes which came to this
difficult work of Q-ships. It was all such a distinctly novel kind
of sea service, which was of too personal and particular a kind to
allow it to be run by mere routine. During the whole of its history
it was experimental, and each cruise, each engagement, almost each
captain added to the general body of knowledge which was being rapidly
accumulated. It seemed for the professional naval officer as if the
whole of his previous life and training had been capsized. Instead of
his smart, fast twin-screw destroyer, he found himself in command of an
awkward, single-screw, disreputable-looking tramp, too slow almost to
get out of her own way. On the other hand, officers of the Mercantile
Marine, fresh from handling freighters or liners, in whom throughout
all their lives had been instilled the maxim ‘Safety first,’ now found
they had to court risks, look for trouble, and pretend they were not
men-of-war. Q-ship work was, in fact, typical of the great upheaval
which had affected the whole world.
In some cases the transition was gradual. Some officers, having come
from other ships to command sloops, found their aspirations satisfied
not even in these ships, whose work went on unceasingly—escorting all
but the fastest Atlantic liners, patrolling, minesweeping, picking up
survivors or salvaging stricken ships, or whatever duty came along.
Transferring as volunteers from sloops to sloops rebuilt as Q-ships,
they had to forget a great deal and acquire much more. One of such
officers was Lieut.-Commander W. W. Hallwright, R.N., who, after doing
very fine work as captain of one of H.M. sloops based on Queenstown,
took over command of the disguised sloop _Heather_ (Q 16). One April
day in 1917, while cruising in the Atlantic about breakfast time,
_Heather_ was suddenly attacked by a submarine, whose sixth shot killed
this keen officer, a piece of shell passing through his head whilst he
was watching the movements of the German through a peep-hole on the
starboard side of the bridge. Lieutenant W. McLeod, R.N.R., then took
command, opened fire, but the submarine dived and made off as usual.
Other Q-ship captains perished, and that is all we know. On a certain
date the ship left harbour; perhaps a couple of days later she had
reported a certain incident in a certain position. After that, silence!
Neither the ship nor any officers or crew ever returned to port, and
one could but assume that the enemy had sent them to the bottom. In
spite of all this, the number of volunteers exceeded the demand. From
retired admirals downwards they competed with each other to get to sea
in Q-ships. Bored young officers from the Grand Fleet yearning for
something exciting; ex-mercantile officers, yachtsmen, and trawler men,
they used every possible means to become acceptable, and great was
their disappointment if they were not chosen.
[Footnote 3: ‘Germany’s High Sea Fleet in the World War,’ p. 242.]
[Footnote 4: _Tulip_ was sunk by U 62, whose captain reported that she
was a very well-disguised trap, having the appearance of a medium-sized
cargo steamer. Suspicion was aroused by the way the merchant flag was
hoisted, and the fact that she appeared to have no defensive gun.]