THE SUMMIT OF Q-SHIP SERVICE
It was on February 17, 1917, that Commander Gordon Campbell, still
in command of _Farnborough_, now named Q 5, again sank a submarine,
but in circumstances which, hid from publication at the time, sent a
thrill through the British Navy and especially among those who had the
good fortune to be serving in that area. The scene was again off the
south-west Irish coast, and the enemy at the beginning of the month
had commenced the unrestricted warfare portion of their submarine
campaign. The Germans, as we have since learned, possessed at this
date ninety-five submarines in addition to eight in the Baltic and
thirty-one in the Mediterranean. The orders to their submarine captains
were very drastic and left no uncertainty, and one of these commanding
officers informed one of my friends after the war that unless they were
successful in sinking plenty of shipping they soon were removed from
their command.
[Illustration: THE MASTER OF THE COLLIER “FARNBOROUGH”
Commander Gordon Campbell, V.C., D.S.O., R.N., taken on the bridge of
the “Farnborough” (Q-5), disguised as a master mariner.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “FARNBOROUGH”
The above picture shows her just as she appeared when she destroyed the
U-83. The position of the after gun’s crew can just be seen abaft of
where the sea is breaking over the stern.
To face p. 192]
Every Allied merchant ship was to be attacked without delay. ‘This form
of warfare is to force England to make peace and thereby to decide
the whole war. _Energetic_ action is required, but above all rapidity
of action.’ ‘Our object is to cut England off from traffic by sea,
and not to achieve occasional results at far-distant points. As far
as possible, therefore, stations must be taken up near the English
coast, where routes converge and where divergence becomes impossible.’
If ever there was a chance of attacking by night, this was to be done.
When a ship had been abandoned by her crew the submarine was to sink
her by gunfire, and approach the ship from aft. Owing to the activity
of the British Q-ships, every ship, even sailing vessels, should be
suspected, and both captain and engineer of merchant ships were to be
taken prisoners.
Of the above numbers of submarines available this month not less than
twenty-five and not more than forty-four could actually be at work on
any given date, for the reasons given in another chapter. The first
stages of this unrestricted warfare were most marked, for whereas
the number of merchant ships sunk by submarines in all waters during
December and January had been respectively thirty-six and thirty-five,
in February the total suddenly rose to eighty-six—these sinkings
occurring in the western approaches, especially off the south coast
of Ireland. On February 14 the sailing ship _Eudora_ (1,991 tons) had
been sunk 30 miles S.S.W. of the Fastnet, and three days later the
S.S. _Iolo_ 40 miles S. by W. of the Fastnet, so orders from Germany
were being carried out to the letter. The seventeenth of February was
the Saturday before Ash Wednesday, and Captain Campbell had taken
_Farnborough_ into the locality just mentioned, the exact position
being Lat. 51.34 N., Long. 11.23 W. It was a quarter to ten in the
forenoon and the steamer was steering an easterly course at 7 knots,
when a torpedo was seen approaching. And then occurred a supreme
instance of Q-ship bravery. In his Order Book Captain Campbell had laid
it down that ‘Should the Officer of the Watch see a torpedo coming, he
is to increase or decrease speed as necessary to ensure it hitting.’
This order was read and signed by all his officers, so that there could
be no misunderstanding. The intention was deliberate, premeditated
self-immolation for the greater object of fooling the submarine and
then sinking him. The Q-ship’s company had all been warned that the
intention would be thus, and every man was given an opportunity to
leave the ship before sailing. Not one man left. Therefore to-day, when
a long way off the torpedo was seen approaching, it could easily have
been avoided, but instead, the helm was put hard aport only at the last
minute, and only so that it should strike the ship elsewhere than in
the engine-room. On came the steel fish and struck the ship abreast
of No. 3 hold, wounding an Engineer Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.R., causing a
terrific explosion, and making a huge hole in the ship’s side.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “FARNBOROUGH”
With White Ensign still flying, after her arrival at Berehaven in a
sinking condition.
To face p. 194]
In the meantime ‘Action’ had been sounded and all hands went to their
stations, the ship being abandoned by every available man with the
exception of those required on board. Thus two lifeboats and one dinghy
full of men were sent to row about, and the fourth boat was partially
lowered. Captain Campbell was lying concealed at one end of the bridge,
watching and waiting in his great isolation. Up through the voice-pipe
came the chief engineer’s report that the engine-room was filling: back
came the captain’s orders that he was to hang on as long as possible
and then hide. This was done. In the meantime _Farnborough’s_ captain
saw the submarine appear on the starboard quarter a couple of hundred
yards away, submerged, but cautiously making a thorough scrutiny of the
ship through his periscope. Then the German—U 83 was her name—came
past the ship on the starboard side only 13 yards away and about 5
yards from the boats. She was so close, in fact, that Captain Campbell,
looking down, could see the whole shape of the submarine below the
water quite distinctly.
Here was the big crisis. Was this the psychological moment? Was this
the right time to make the final gamble? For Captain Campbell the
temptation to open fire was almost unbearable, yet the opportunity was
not yet: he must wait a little longer and live minutes which were like
days. The submarine passed along, then close round _Farnborough’s_
bows, finally breaking surface about 300 yards on the port bow. It was
now five minutes past ten and U 83 motoring along the surface came
past the port side, continuing the scrutiny with less caution born
of satisfaction. The concealed figure on _Farnborough’s_ bridge was
waiting only until all his guns would bear, and as soon as the enemy
thus bore came the great onslaught. It was point-blank range, and the
6-pounder opened the battle, whose first shot hit the conning-tower and
beheaded the German captain.
[Illustration: FIG. 13.—‘FARNBOROUGH’S’ FAREWELL.
When Q 5 (_Farnborough_) had succeeded in sinking U 83, but was
herself in a sinking condition and apparently doomed, Captain
Campbell despatched the above wireless signal to Vice-Admiral Sir
Lewis Bayly, Commander-in-Chief, Queenstown. It was one of the
most pathetic and dramatic messages which ever flashed out of the
Atlantic, but happily Q 5 was salved.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “FARNBOROUGH”
Brought safely into Berehaven after her famous fight and beached in
Mill Cove, with a heavy list.]
[Illustration: S.S. “LODORER”
Having served magnificently as a warship under the names of
“Farnborough” and Q-5, and having been salved, this ship is here seen
ready to be returned to her owners.
To face p. 196]
The surprise had been instant and effective, for the submarine
never recovered from the shock, but remained on the surface whilst
_Farnborough’s_ guns shattered the hull to pieces, the conning-tower
being continually hit, and some of the shells going clean through.
Over forty rounds had thus been fired, to say nothing of the Maxim
gun. U 83 was beaten, finished, smashed: and she finally sank with her
conning-tower open and her crew pouring out. About eight of her crew
were seen in the water, and one of _Farnborough’s_ lifeboats went to
their assistance and was in time to pick up one officer and one man,
and then rowed back to the ship through sea thick with oil and blood
and bubbles. U 83 was satisfactorily disposed of, but what about the
decoy ship herself? It was now time to inspect her, and she was clearly
in a stricken state. The engine-room and boiler-rooms and both Nos.
3 and 4 after holds were all filling rapidly, and she was sinking by
the stern: the end could not be far away. Captain Campbell therefore
sent a wireless signal for assistance and placed nearly all his hands
in the boats, keeping only a few men on board, and destroying all
confidential books and charts. His signal was picked up, and before
noon a British destroyer arrived, and as by this time _Farnborough_ was
in a critical condition most of the crew were transferred to her.[5]
Presently H.M. sloop _Buttercup_ steamed up, and as there seemed a
chance of saving the ship Captain Campbell with twelve officers and men
then went back on board his ship. She seemed now to have settled to a
definite position, and the water, though rising, was gaining but slowly.
At length _Buttercup_ got her in tow, but there is nothing so hard
to steer as a sinking ship, and the tow parted. At 5 p.m. the sloop
again got her in tow, but it was a disappointing business with the
water steadily gaining below and the Atlantic swell breaking over the
after deck, and thus the ships went on through the night. At 2 a.m. on
the Sunday _Farnborough_ suddenly took an alarming list and the water
gained rapidly, so the crew had to be ordered into the boats once
again. The sloop _Laburnum_, which had also arrived, was ordered to
close her an hour and a half later, but just as Captain Campbell was
walking aft off went one of the depth charges with such an explosion
that _Buttercup_, thinking it was a submarine’s torpedo, slipped her
tow. After remaining aboard _Laburnum_ until daylight, Captain Campbell
went back to his ship, and then _Laburnum_ got her in tow. A course
had been set for Bantry Bay, and as she approached she was an amazing
spectacle, listing over to the extent of twenty degrees and her stern
nearly 8 feet under water. However, the armed trawler _Luneda_ and
the tug _Flying Sportsman_ had been sent out to her, and by their
assistance she was brought up the fjord and beached at Mill Cove,
Berehaven, by half-past nine that Sunday night. Next morning, and for
long after, this very ordinary-looking steamer lay among a number of
other wounded ships, a strange and impressive sight. _Farnborough_ had
fought both submarine and adversity, and had won both times: still, had
it not been for sound seamanship and her holds being packed with timber
she would never have been saved.
There was much work to be done and there were too few salvage experts
and men to cope with the results of the submarines’ attacks: so for
the present _Farnborough_ had to remain idle. Months later she was
repaired temporarily, refloated, taken away from Berehaven and properly
reconditioned, but she had ended her days as a warship. She has now
gone back to the Merchant Service as a cargo carrier, and if you ever
go aboard her you will find a suitable inscription commemorating her
truly wonderful career. As for Commander Campbell, as soon as he
had got his ship safely into Berehaven he was summoned to see his
Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly. After that he was received
by the King, who conferred on him the highest of all awards for heroes.
No details appeared in the Press; only this announcement from the
_London Gazette_:
‘The King has been graciously pleased to approve of the grant of
the Victoria Cross to Commander Gordon Campbell, D.S.O., R.N., in
recognition of his conspicuous gallantry, consummate coolness and skill
in command of one of His Majesty’s ships in action.’
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “PARGUST”
One of Captain Gordon Campbell’s famous commands.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “SARAH JONES”
This craft did not come into the service until about three months
before the end of the war. Her alias was “Margaret Murray.”
To face p. 198]
Press and public were greatly puzzled, but secrecy was at this time
essential. ‘This,’ commented a well-known London daily, ‘is probably
the first time since the institution of the V.C. that the bestowal of
this coveted honour has been announced without details of the deed for
which it was awarded.’ The popular press named him ‘the Mystery V.C.,’
and the usual crop of rumours and fantastic stories went round. And
while these were being told the gallant commander was busy fitting
out another Q-ship in which to go forth and make his greatest of all
achievements.
This ship was the S.S. _Vittoria_, a collier of 2,817 gross tons. She
was selected whilst lying at Cardiff, whence she was sent to Devonport
to be fitted out as a decoy. Commander Campbell superintended her
alteration, and she began her special service on March 28, 1917. She
was armed with one 4-inch, four 12-pounders, two Maxim guns, and a
couple of 14-inch torpedo tubes. She was a slow creature, 7-1/2 knots
being her speed, but she looked the part she was intended to play. When
Commander Campbell took over the command he was accompanied by his
gallant crew from _Farnborough_. She had been fitted with wireless,
and down in her holds the useful timber had been stowed. On leaving
Devonport she changed her name to _Pargust_, but she was variously
known also as the _Snail_, _Friswell_, and _Pangloss_ at later dates.
She again came under the orders of Sir Lewis Bayly at Queenstown, and
then, being in all respects ready to fight another submarine, _Pargust_
went cruising. She had not long to wait, and on June 7 we find her
out in the Atlantic again, not very far from the scene of her last
encounter. The month of April had been a terrible one for British
shipping; no fewer than 155 of our merchant craft had been sunk by
submarines, representing a loss of over half a million of tonnage.
In May these figures had dropped slightly, but in June they were up
again, though in no month of the war did our losses ever reach the
peak of April again. Nor was it only British ships that so suffered,
and I recollect the U.S.S. _Cushing_ two days previously bringing into
Bantry Bay thirteen survivors, including three wounded, from an Italian
barque. At this time, too, the enemy submarines were laying a number of
dangerous minefields off this part of the world, and as one patrolled
along the south-west Irish coast pieces of wreckage, a meat-safe or a
seaman’s chest, would be seen floating from some victimized steamer.
On the morning, then, of the seventh, picture _Pargust_ in Lat. 51.50
N., Long. 11.50 W., jogging along at her slow speed. At that time
there was scarcely a steamer that was not armed with some sort of a
gun; therefore, if a Q-ship did not display one aft, she would have
looked suspicious. _Pargust_ kept up appearances by having a dummy gun
mounted aft with a man in uniform standing by. I well remember that
day. There was a nasty sea running, and the atmosphere varied from the
typical Irish damp mist to heavy rain. At 8 a.m. out of this thickness
_Pargust_ descried a torpedo, apparently fired at close range, racing
towards her starboard beam. When about 100 yards off it jumped out of
the water and struck the engine-room near the waterline, making a large
tear in the ship’s side, filling the boiler-room, engine-room, and No.
5 hold, and blowing the starboard lifeboat into the air.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “DUNRAVEN”
Showing forward well-deck and bridge.
To face p. 200]
[Illustration: FIG. 14.—DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE APPROXIMATE MOVEMENTS OF
‘PARGUST’ AND UC 29 ON JUNE 7, 1917.]
Captain Campbell then gave the order to abandon ship, and the panic
party went away in three boats, and just as the last boat was
pushing off a periscope was sighted 400 yards on the port side forward
of the beam. It then turned and made for the ship, and submerged when
close to the lifeboat’s stern, then came on the starboard quarter,
turned towards the ship and, when 50 yards away, partially broke
surface, heading on a course parallel, but opposite, to that of
_Pargust_, the lifeboat meanwhile pulling away round the steamer’s
stern. The submarine followed, and a man was seen on the conning-tower
shouting directions. The lifeboat then rowed towards the ship, and
this apparently annoyed the Hun, who now began semaphoring the boats;
but at 8.36 a.m. the submarine was only 50 yards off, and was bearing
one point before the beam, so all _Pargust’s_ guns were able to bear
nicely. Fire was therefore opened, the first shot from the 4-inch gun
hitting the base of the conning-tower and removing the two periscopes.
Nearly forty more shells followed, most of them being hits in the
conning-tower, so that the submarine quickly listed to port, and
several men came out of the hatch abaft the conning-tower. She was
already obviously in a bad way, with her heavy list and her stern
almost submerged, and oil squirting from her sides.
The Germans now came on deck, held up their hands, and waved; so
Captain Campbell ordered ‘Cease Fire.’ Then a typically unsportsmanlike
trick was played, for as soon as _Pargust_ stopped firing the enemy
began to make off at a fair speed. So there was nothing for it but to
resume shelling her, and this was kept up until 8.40 a.m., when an
explosion occurred in the forward part of the submarine. She sank for
the last time, falling over on her side, and 3 feet of her sharp bow
end up in the air, 300 yards off, was the last that was ever seen of
her. So perished UC 29, and thus one more submarine was added to the
score of this gallant captain and crew. One officer (a sub-lieutenant
of Reserve) and an engine-room petty officer were picked up. The former
had come on to the submarine’s deck with a couple of men to fire
the 22-pounder, but owing to the heavy sea knocked up by the fresh
southerly wind they had been all washed overboard before reaching the
gun.
[Illustration: BRIDGE OF Q-SHIP “DUNRAVEN”
Captain Gordon Campbell, V.C., D.S.O., R.N., inspecting the damage by
the submarine’s shells to his ship.
To face p. 202]
The captain of UC 29 had been killed by _Pargust’s_ fire. This class
of submarine carried besides her 22-pounder and machine-gun eighteen
mines and three torpedoes. She had left Brunsbüttel on May 25, calling
at Heligoland, and the routine was usually first to lay the mines and
then operate, sinking ships with gun or torpedo. As to her mines, it
is quite possible that she laid the three mines I recollect sinking on
June 12 in the approach to Valentia Harbour, Dingle Bay, and she may
have laid three others off Brow Head, one of which I remember on June
4, for it was customary for these craft to lay their ‘eggs’ in threes.
With regard to her three torpedoes we know that one had penetrated
_Pargust_, another had sunk a sailing ship—probably the Italian barque
already mentioned—and the third had been fired at a destroyer, but
passed underneath.
As to _Pargust_, she fortunately did not sink, thanks to her cargo
of timber. At 12.30 p.m. another of Admiral Bayly’s alert sloops,
who always seemed to be at hand when wanted, arrived. This was
H.M.S. _Crocus_, who took _Pargust_ in tow. The sloop _Zinnia_ and
the United States destroyer _Cushing_ arrived also, and escorted
her to Queenstown, which she reached next afternoon. The prisoners
had been already transferred to _Zinnia_, and in _Pargust_ the only
casualties had been one stoker petty officer killed and the engineer
sub-lieutenant wounded. For _Pargust’s_ splendid victory further
honours were awarded. Captain Campbell, already the possessor of the
V.C. and D.S.O., now received a bar to his D.S.O. To Lieutenant R. N.
Stuart, D.S.O., R.N.R., was given the V.C., and Seaman W. Williams,
R.N.R., also received this highest of all decorations. These two,
one officer and one man, were selected by ballot to receive this
distinction, but every officer and every man had earned it.
Before _Pargust_ could be ready for sea again much would have to be
done to her at Devonport, so Captain Campbell proceeded to look for a
new ship, and this was found in the collier _Dunraven_. She was fitted
out at Devonport under his supervision, just like her predecessor, and
her crew turned over _en bloc_ from _Pargust_. She was commissioned on
July 28, and within a fortnight Captain Campbell, now already promoted
to post-captain at an age which must certainly be a record, was engaged
in the most heroic Q-ship fight of all the long series of duels only a
few days after leaving Devonport.
Just before eleven on the forenoon of August 8 _Dunraven_ was in the
Bay of Biscay, about 130 miles west of Ushant, doing her 8 knots and
disguised as a defensively armed British merchantman, for which reason
she had a small gun aft. In order to conform further with merchant-ship
practice of this time, she was keeping a zigzag course. On the horizon
appeared a submarine, about two points forward of _Dunraven’s_
starboard beam. The German was waiting, you see, in a likely position
for catching homeward-bound steamers making for the western British
ports, and on sighting this ‘tramp’ he must have felt pretty sure she
was bringing home a cargo of commodities useful for winning the war.
Pursuing the more cautious tactics of the time, the enemy, having
apparently ascertained the ‘tramp’s’ speed and mean course, submerged,
but at 11.43 she broke surface 5,000 yards off the starboard quarter
and opened fire. In order to maintain the bluff, Captain Campbell
replied with his defensive gun, made as much smoke as possible, reduced
to 7 knots, and made an occasional zigzag in order to give the enemy
a chance of closing. _Dunraven_ was now steaming head to sea, and the
enemy’s shots were falling over, but after about half an hour of this
the submarine ceased firing, came on at full speed, and a quarter of an
hour later turned broadside on, and reopened fire.
[Illustration: AFTER THE BATTLE
Forebridge of Q-ship “Dunraven” and captain’s cabin as the result of
the submarine’s shells.
To face p. 204]
In the meantime the decoy was intentionally firing short, and sent
wireless signals _en clair_ so that the enemy could still further
be deceived. Such messages as ‘Submarine chasing and shelling me,’
‘Submarine overtaking me, help, come quickly ... am abandoning ship,’
were flashed forth just as were sent almost daily by stricken ships
in those strenuous days. _Dunraven’s_ next bluff was to pretend his
engines had been hit; so Captain Campbell stopped his ship, which now
made a cloud of steam. The next step was to ‘abandon ship,’ and the
‘tramp’ had enough way on to allow of her being turned broadside on
and let the enemy see that the vessel was being abandoned. Then, to
simulate real panic, one of the boats was let go by the foremost fall,
an incident that somehow seems to happen in every disaster to steamers.
Thus, so far, everything had been carried out just as a submarine would
have expected a genuine ‘tramp’ to behave. Not a thing had been omitted
which ought to have been seen by the enemy, who had already closed and
continued his shelling. From now ensued a most trying time. To receive
punishment with serene stoicism, to be hit and not reply, is the
supreme test; but these officers and men were no novices in the Q-ship
art, and none had had greater or more bitter experience. However, not
all the tactics and devices could prevent the enemy’s shells hitting if
the German insisted, and this had to be endured in order that at length
the submarine might be tempted inside the desired range and bearing.
Thus it happened that one shell penetrated _Dunraven’s_ poop, exploding
a depth charge and blowing Lieutenant C. G. Bonner, D.S.C., R.N.R.,
out of his control position. This was rather bad luck, and two more
shells followed, the poop became on fire, dense clouds of black smoke
issued forth, and the situation was perilous; for in the poop were
the magazine and depth charges, and it was obvious that as the fire
increased an explosion of some magnitude must soon occur. But the main
consideration was to sink the submarine, and it mattered little if
the Q-ship were lost; so Captain Campbell decided to wait until the
submarine got in a suitable position. It was exactly two hours to the
minute since the submarine had been first sighted when, just as he was
passing close to _Dunraven’s_ stern, a terrific explosion took place
in the poop, caused probably by a couple of depth charges and some
cordite. The result was that the 4-inch gun and the whole of its crew
were blown up into the air, the gun vaulting the bridge and alighting
on the well deck forward, while the crew came down in various places,
one man falling into the water, and 4-inch projectiles being blown
about the ship in the most unpleasant manner.
[Illustration: “DUNRAVEN” DOOMED
This picture shows the Q-ship in her last hours. She has been through
an historic duel, she has been torpedoed and shelled, her poop has been
blown up, and the Atlantic seas are breaking over her deck.
To face p. 206]
That this explosion should have happened at this moment was a
misfortune of the greatest magnitude, for it spoilt the whole tactics.
Captain Campbell was watching the enemy closely, and the latter was
coming on so nicely that he had only to proceed a little further and
_Dunraven’s_ guns would have been bearing at a range of not more
than 400 yards. As it was, the explosion gave the whole game away,
for firstly it frightened the submarine so that he dived, secondly
it set going the ‘open fire’ buzzers at the guns. Thus the time had
come to attack. The only gun in the ship that would bear was the one
on the after bridge, and this began to bark just as the White Ensign
was hoisted. One shot was thought to have succeeded in hitting the
conning-tower just as the enemy was submerging, but if he was damaged
it was not seriously, and Captain Campbell realized that the next
thing to expect was a torpedo. He therefore ordered the doctor to
remove all the wounded, and hoses were turned on to the poop, which
was now one mass of flames, the deck being red-hot. So gallant had
been this well-disciplined crew that even when it was so hot that they
had to lift the boxes of cordite from off the deck the men still had
remained at their posts.[6]
The position now was this: a ship seriously on fire, the magazine
still intact but likely to explode before long with terrible effects,
a torpedo attack imminent, and the White Ensign showing that this
was a ‘trap-ship’ after all. The submarine would certainly fight
now like the expert duellist, and it would be a fight to the finish,
undoubtedly. Realizing all this, and full well knowing what was
inevitable, Captain Campbell made a decision which could have been made
only by a man of consummate moral courage. To a man-of-war who had
answered his call for assistance when the explosion occurred he now
sent a wireless signal requesting him to keep away, as he was already
preparing for the next phase, still concentrating as he was on sinking
the submarine.[7]
[Illustration: FIG. 15.—THE GREAT DECISION.
Captain Campbell’s famous wireless signal refusing assistance when the
Q-ship _Dunraven_ was already crippled and about to be attacked again.]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “DUNRAVEN”
Her duel with the submarine being ended, the crippled “Dunraven” is
taken in tow by H.M. Destroyer “Christopher,” who is seen endeavouring
to get her into port.
To face p. 208]
It was now twenty minutes since that big explosion, and the expected
torpedo arrived, striking _Dunraven_ abaft the engine-room. The enemy
was aware of two facts: he had seen the first ‘abandon ship’ party
and this he now knew was mere bluff, and that there were others still
remaining on board. In order, therefore, to deceive the German,
Captain Campbell now sent away some more of his crew in boats and a
raft. It would then look as if the last man had left the ship. From
1.40 to 2.30 p.m. followed a period of the utmost suspense, during
which the periscope could be seen circling around scrutinizing the
ship to make _quite_ sure, whilst the fire on the poop was still
burning fiercely, and boxes of cordite and 4-inch shells were going
off every few minutes. To control yourself and your men under these
circumstances and to continue thinking coolly of what the next move
shall be, this, surely, is a very wonderful achievement: more than
this could be asked of no captain.
[Illustration:
22nd August, 1917.
Dear Captain Campbell
It is with very great pleasure that I convey to you, by the
directions of the War Cabinet, an expression of their high
appreciation of the gallantry, skill, and devotion to duty, which
have been displayed through many months of arduous service by
yourself and the officers and men of His Majesty’s ship under your
command.
In conveying to you this message of the War Cabinet, which expresses
the high esteem with which the conduct of your officers and men is
regarded by His Majesty’s Government, I wish to add on behalf of the
Board of Admiralty, that they warmly endorse this commendation.
Will you please convey this message to all ranks and ratings under
your command?
closing and signature [see Transcriber’s Note]
FIG. 16.—LETTER OF APPRECIATION FROM THE FIRST LORD OF THE ADMIRALTY
TO CAPTAIN GORDON CAMPBELL AFTER THE HISTORIC ACTION FOUGHT BY Q-SHIP
‘DUNRAVEN.’]
At half-past two the submarine came to the surface directly astern
(where _Dunraven’s_ guns would not bear) and resumed shelling the
steamer at short range, and used her Maxim gun on the men in the boats.
This went on for twenty minutes, and then she dived once more. Captain
Campbell next decided to use his torpedoes, so five minutes later one
was fired which passed just ahead of the submarine’s periscope as the
enemy was motoring 150 yards off on the port side; and seven minutes
afterwards _Dunraven_ fired a second torpedo which passed just astern
of the periscope. The enemy had failed to see the first torpedo, but
evidently he noticed the second. It was obvious that by now it was
useless to continue the contest any further, for the submarine would
go on torpedoing and shelling _Dunraven_ until she sank: so Captain
Campbell signalled for urgent assistance,[8] and almost immediately
the U.S.S. _Noma_ arrived and fired at a periscope seen a few hundred
yards astern of _Dunraven_. Then came the two British destroyers
_Attack_ and _Christopher_. _Dunraven_ then recalled her boats and
the fire was extinguished, but it was found that the poop had been
completely gutted and that all depth charges and ammunition had been
exploded. From _Noma_ and _Christopher_ doctors came over and assisted
in tending the wounded, a couple of the most dangerously injured being
taken on board _Noma_ to be operated on and then landed at Brest.
At 6.45 p.m. _Christopher_ began towing _Dunraven_, but this was no
easy matter, for there was a nasty sea running, the damaged ship would
not steer; her stern went down, the sea broke over it and worked its
way forward. In this way the night passed, and at 10.15 the next
morning _Christopher_ was able to report that she was now only 60 miles
west of Ushant and bringing _Dunraven_ towards Plymouth at 4 knots.
By six that evening the ship was in so bad a condition that she might
sink any moment, so Captain Campbell transferred sixty of his crew
to the trawler _Foss_. About 9 p.m. two tugs arrived, took over the
towing, and carried on during the night until 1.30 a.m. of August 10.
It was time then for the last handful of men to abandon her in all
true earnestness, so the _Christopher_ came alongside, in spite of the
heavy sea running, and the last man was taken off. It was only just
in time, for almost immediately she capsized, and was finally sunk by
_Christopher_ dropping a depth charge and shelling her as a dangerous
derelict soon after 3 a.m. Thus the life of _Dunraven_ as a man-of-war
had been both brief and distinguished.
As to the officers and men, it is difficult to imagine greater and
more persistent bravery under such adverse circumstances, and the King
made the following awards: Captain Gordon Campbell, V.C., D.S.O.,
received a second bar to his D.S.O.; Lieutenant C. G. Bonner, D.S.C.,
R.N.R., received a V.C., as also did Petty Officer E. Pitcher. To
Assistant-Paymaster R. A. Nunn, D.S.C., R.N.R., was awarded a D.S.O.
Three other officers received a D.S.C., whilst Lieutenant P. R.
Hereford, D.S.O., D.S.C., and two engineer officers, all received a bar
to their D.S.C.
Such is the story of Captain Campbell’s last and greatest Q-ship
fight, for after this he was appointed to command a light cruiser
at Queenstown. In these duels we reach the high-water mark of sea
gallantry, and the incidents themselves are so impressive that no
further words are necessary. Let us leave it at that.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “DUNRAVEN”
This photograph was taken shortly before she finally sank. Already the
stern is awash.
To face p. 212]
[Footnote 5: Twelve officers and men were selected from a host of
volunteers to try and get the ship in tow. These were placed in a
motor-boat, whilst the Captain boarded the escort to arrange for towage
if possible.]
[Footnote 6: Captain Campbell has been good enough to furnish me with
the following details of this heroic episode:
‘Lieutenant Bonner, having been blown out of his control by the first
explosion, crawled into the gun-hatch with the crew. They there
remained at their posts with a fire raging in the poop below and the
deck getting red-hot. One man tore up his shirt to give pieces to
the gun’s crew to stop the fumes getting into their throats, others
lifted the boxes of cordite off the deck to keep it from exploding, and
all the time they knew that they must be blown up, as the secondary
supply and magazine were immediately below. They told me afterwards
that communication with the bridge was cut off, and although they knew
they would be blown up, they also knew they would spoil the show if
they moved, so they remained until actually blown up with their gun.
Then, when as wounded men they were ordered to remain quiet in various
places during the second action, they had to lie there unattended and
bleeding, with explosions continually going on aboard and splinters
from the shell-fire penetrating their quarters. Lieutenant Bonner,
himself wounded, did what he could for two who were with him in the
wardroom. When I visited them after the action, they thought little of
their wounds, but only expressed their disgust that the enemy had not
been sunk. Surely such bravery is hard to equal. The strain for the men
who remained on board after the ship had been torpedoed, poop set on
fire, cordite and shells exploding, and then the enemy shell-fire, can
easily be imagined.’]
[Footnote 7: See illustration above.]
[Footnote 8: In the meantime he arranged for a further ‘abandon ship’
evolution, having only one gun’s crew on board.]