CHAPTER XVI

Q-SHIPS EVERYWHERE

In the spring of 1917 there was a 2,905-ton steamship, called the

_Bracondale_, in the employment of the Admiralty as a collier. It

was decided that she would make a very useful Q-ship, so at the

beginning of April she was thus commissioned and her name changed to

_Chagford_. She was fitted out at Devonport and armed with a 4-inch,

two 12-pounders, and a couple of torpedo tubes, and was ready for sea

at the end of June. Commanded by Lieutenant D. G. Jeffrey, R.N.R., she

proceeded to Falmouth in order to tune everything up, and then was

based on Buncrana, which she left on August 2 for what was to be her

last cruise, and I think that in the following story we have another

instance of heroism and pertinacity of great distinction.

_Chagford’s_ position on August 5 at 4.10 a.m. was roughly 120 miles

north-west of Tory Island, and she was endeavouring to find two enemy

submarines which had been reported on the previous day. At the time

mentioned she was herself torpedoed just below the bridge, and in

this one explosion was caused very great injury: for it disabled

both her torpedo tubes and her 4-inch gun; it shattered the boats on

the starboard side as well as the captain’s cabin and chart room.

In addition, it also wrecked all the voice-pipe connections to the

torpedo tubes and guns, and it flooded the engine-room and put the

engines out of commission, killing one of the crew. Lieutenant Jeffrey

therefore ‘abandoned’ ship, and just as the boats were getting away

two periscopes and a submarine were sighted on the starboard side 800

yards away. As soon as the enemy came to the surface fire was opened

on her by the two 12-pounders and both Lewis and machine-guns, several

direct hits being observed. The submarine then dived, but at 4.40 a.m.

she fired a second torpedo at _Chagford_, which hit the ship abaft the

bridge on the starboard side.

From the time the first torpedo had hit, the enemy realized that

_Chagford_ was a warship, for the 4-inch gun and torpedo tubes had been

made visible, and now that the second explosion had come Lieutenant

Jeffrey decided to recall his boats so that the ship might genuinely

be abandoned. The lifeboat, dinghy, and a barrel raft were accordingly

filled, and about 5.30 a.m. the enemy fired a third torpedo, which

struck also on the starboard side. Having sent away in the boats and

raft everyone with the exception of himself and a lieutenant, R.N.R.,

two sub-lieutenants, R.N.R., also an assistant-paymaster, R.N.R., and

one petty officer, Lieutenant Jeffrey stationed these in hiding under

cover of the fo’c’sle and poop, keeping a smart look-out, however,

through the scuttles.

Here was another doomed ship rolling about in the Atlantic without her

crew, and only a gallant handful of British seamanhood still standing

by with but a shred of hope. To accentuate their suspense periscopes

were several times seen, and from 9 a.m. until 9 p.m. a submarine

frequently appeared on the surface at long range, and almost every

hour a periscope passed round the ship inspecting her cautiously.

During the whole of this time _Chagford_ was settling down gradually

but certainly. At dark Lieutenant Jeffrey, fearing that the enemy

might attempt boarding, placed Lewis and Maxim guns in position and

served out rifles and bayonets to all. Midnight came, and after making

a further examination of the damage, Lieutenant Jeffrey realized that

it was impossible for the _Chagford_ to last much longer, for her main

deck amidships was split from side to side, the bridge deck was badly

buckled, and the whole ship was straining badly. Therefore, just before

half-past midnight, these five abandoned the ship in a small motor-boat

which they had picked up at sea some days previously, but before

quitting _Chagford_ they disabled the guns, all telescopic sights and

strikers being removed.

Having shoved off, they found to their dismay that there were no tanks

in the motor-boat, so she had to be propelled by a couple of oars, and

it will readily be appreciated that this kind of propulsion in the

North Atlantic was not a success. They then thought of going back to

the ship, but before they could do so they were fortunately picked up

at 7.30 a.m. by H.M. trawler _Saxon_, a large submarine having been

seen several times on the horizon between 4 and 7 a.m. The trawler then

proceeded to hunt for the submarine, but, as the latter had now made

off, volunteers were called for and went aboard _Chagford_, so that

by 4 p.m. _Saxon_ had commenced towing her. Bad luck again overcame

their efforts, for wind and sea had been steadily increasing, and of

course there was no steam, so the heavy work of handling cables had all

to be done by hand. Until the evening the ship towed fairly well at 2

knots, but, as she seemed then to be breaking up, the tow-rope had to

be slipped, and just before eight o’clock next morning (August 7) she

took a final plunge and disappeared. The _Saxon_ made for the Scottish

coast and landed the survivors at Oban on the morning of the eighth. In

this encounter, difficult as it was, _Chagford_ had done real service,

for she had damaged the submarine so much that she could not submerge,

and this was probably U 44 which H.M.S. _Oracle_ sighted in the early

hours of August 12 off the north coast of Scotland, evidently bound

to Germany. _Oracle_ chased her; U 44 kept diving and coming to the

surface after a short while. She had disguised herself as a trawler,

and was obviously unable to dive except for short periods. _Oracle_

shelled and then rammed her, so that U 44 was destroyed and _Chagford_

avenged. Nothing more was seen of _Chagford_ except some wreckage found

by a trawler on August 11, who noticed the word _Bracondale_ on the

awnings.

After Lieutenant Jeffrey and crew had returned to their base they

proceeded to fit out the 2,794-ton S.S. _Arvonian_. This was to be a

very powerful Q-ship, for she was armed with three 4-inch guns instead

of one, in addition to three 12-pounders, two Maxim guns, and actually

four 18-inch torpedo tubes. She was, in fact, a light cruiser, except

for speed and appearance, but the _Chagford_ crew were destined to

disappointment, for this is what happened. The reader will recollect

that in her engagement of June 7, 1917, Captain Campbell’s famous ship

_Pargust_ received so much damage that she had to be left in dockyard

hands while he and his crew went to sea in the _Dunraven_. Now, at

the beginning of October Admiral Sims asked the British Admiralty for

a ship to carry out this decoy work, and to be manned by the United

States Navy. The Admiralty therefore selected _Pargust_, and Admiral

Sims then assigned her to the U.S.N. forces based on Queenstown. Her

repairs, however, took rather a longer time than had been hoped; in

fact, she was not finished and commissioned again until the following

May, so it was decided to pay off _Arvonian_ on November 26, 1917,

and she was then recommissioned with a United States crew under

Commander D. C. Hanrahan, U.S.N., and changed her name to _Santee_.

By the time she left Queenstown for her maiden cruise she was a very

wonderful ship. Her 4-inch guns had been disguised by being recessed,

and by such concealments as lifebuoy lockers, hatch covers, and so on.

The 12-pounder gun aft had a tilting mounting, as also had the two

12-pounders forward at the break of the fo’c’sle on either side. Thus

they were concealed, but could be instantly brought into position.

Her four torpedo tubes were arranged so that there was one on each

beam, one to fire right ahead, and one to fire right astern. She also

boasted of a searchlight, a wireless set, and an emergency wireless

apparatus. She had two lifeboats, two skiffs, two Carley floats, and

also a motor-boat. She was thus the last word in Q-ship improvements,

and embodied all the lessons which had been learnt by bitter and tragic

experience. Two days after Christmas, 1917, she left Queenstown at dusk

on her way to Bantry Bay to train her crew, but in less than five hours

she was torpedoed. It was no disgrace, but a sheer bit of hard luck

which might have happened to any other officer, British or American.

Commander Hanrahan was one of the ablest and keenest destroyer captains

of the American Navy, and no one who had ever been aboard his ship

could fail to note his efficiency. He had been one of the early

destroyer arrivals when the United States that summer had begun to send

their destroyer divisions across the Atlantic to Queenstown, and he had

done most excellent work.

But on this night his Q-ship career came to a sudden stop, though not

before everything possible had been done to entrap the enemy. It was

one of those cloudy, moonlight, wintry nights with good visibility.

As might have been expected under such a captain there was a total

absence of confusion; all hands went to their stations, the ‘panic’

party got away in accordance with the best ‘panic’ traditions, while

on board the crews remained at their gun stations for five hours,

hoping and longing for the submarine to show herself. No such good

fortune followed, for the submarine was shy; so just before midnight

Commander Hanrahan sent a wireless message to Admiral Bayly at

Queenstown, and very shortly afterwards the U.S. destroyer _Cummings_

arrived. At 1 a.m. the tug _Paladin_ took _Santee_ in tow, escorted by

four United States destroyers and the two British sloops _Viola_ and

_Bluebell_. _Santee_ got safely into port and was sent to Devonport,

where she was eventually handed back by the U.S.N. to the British

Navy, owing to the time involved in repairs. On June 4, 1918, she

was once more recommissioned in the Royal Navy and took the name of

_Bendish_, the crew having come from the Q-ship _Starmount_. By this

date the conditions of submarine warfare had undergone a modification.

In home waters it was only the quite small Q-ships of the coaster

type, of about 500 tons, which could be expected to have any chance

of successfully engaging a submarine. This class would normally be

expected to be seen within the narrow seas, and the enemy would not

be so shy. But for such vessels as _Bendish_ and _Pargust_ the most

promising sphere was likely to be between Gibraltar and the Azores

and the north-west coast of Africa, where German so-called ‘cruiser’

submarines of the _Deutschland_ type were operating. Therefore a

special force, based on Gibraltar but operating in the Azores area or

wherever submarines were to be expected, was organized, consisting

of four Q-ships. These were the _Bendish_ (late _Santee_), Captain

Campbell’s former ship _Pargust_ but now named the _Pangloss_, the

_Underwing_, and the _Marshfort_, the whole squadron being under

the command of Lieut.-Commander Dane in _Bendish_. After being at

last ready for sea in May, 1918, _Pangloss_, commanded by Lieutenant

Jeffrey, who for his fine work in _Chagford_ had received the D.S.O.,

had then been assigned to serve under the Vice-Admiral Northern Patrols

until she was sent south.

[Illustration: Q-SHIP TRANSFORMATION

Crew painting funnel while at sea (see pp. 220-1).]

[Illustration: Q-SHIP “BARRANCA” AT SEA

The look-out man aft is disguised as one of the Mercantile crew. The

dummy wheel, dummy sky-light, and dummy deck-house are seen. The latter

concealed a 4-inch gun and two 12-pounders.

To face p. 234]

Under the new scheme just mentioned these four Q-ships were so

worked that they always arrived and sailed from Gibraltar as part

of the convoy of merchant ships, from which class they could not be

distinguished. But already long before this date Q-ships had been

employed in such distant waters. For instance, in the middle of

November, 1916, the _Barranca_ (Lieut.-Commander S. C. Douglas, R.N.)

was sent from Queenstown via Devonport, and proceeded to operate in the

neighbourhood of Madeira and the Canaries, based on Gibraltar. This

ship, known officially as Q 3 (alias _Echunga_), had been taken over

from Messrs. Elders and Fyffes, Ltd. Her registered tonnage was 4,115,

and she had a speed of 14 knots, so she was eminently fitted for this

kind of work. She had been employed as a Q-ship since June, 1916, and

was armed with a 4-inch, two 12-pounders, and two 6-pounders, and

terminated her service in the following May. Her captain had been one

of the earliest officers to be employed in decoy work, having been

second in command to Lieut.-Commander Godfrey Herbert when that officer

commanded the _Antwerp_. Soon after this date the Q-ship _Dunclutha_

left for that part of the Atlantic which is between the north-east

coast of South America and north-west coast of Africa. This ship,

together with _Ooma_, both of them being vessels of between 3,000 and

4,000 tons, had commenced their special service at the end of 1916

and been sent to work under the British Commodore off the east coast

of South America in the hope of falling in with one of the German

raiders, such as the _Moewe_. In May, 1918, both these vessels had to

be withdrawn from such service, as the shortage of tonnage had become

acute, and were required to load general cargo in a Brazilian port.

Another of these overseas Q-ships was the _Bombala_ (alias _Willow

Branch_). She was a 3,314-ton steamer and had left Gibraltar on April

18, 1918, for Sierra Leone. A week later, off the West African coast,

she sighted a submarine off the port quarter, and a few minutes later a

second one off the starboard bow. Both submarines opened their attack

with shells, this class of submarine being armed with a couple of

5·9-inch guns. After about thirty rounds the enemy had found the range,

and then began to hit the ship repeatedly, carrying away the wireless

and causing many casualties. _Bombala_ shortened the range so that

she could use her 4-inch and 14-pounder, and the action went on for

two and a half hours. By that time _Bombala_ was done for, and it was

impossible to save the ship; so the crew were ordered into the boats,

and then the ship foundered, bows first. However, the Q-ship had not

sunk without severely damaging the enemy, for when the submarines came

alongside _Bombala’s_ boats it was found that in one of the submarines

there were seven killed and four wounded.

Q-ships were kept pretty busy, too, in the Mediterranean. On March

11, 1917, when _Wonganella_ (Lieut.-Commander B. J. D. Guy, R.N.) was

on her way from Malta to England via Gibraltar, she was shelled by a

submarine, and while the ‘panic’ party were getting out the boats, a

shell wounded the officer and several of the crew in the starboard

lifeboat. Another shell went through the bulwarks of the ship, wounding

some men and bursting the steam-pipe of the winch, thus rendering

unworkable the derrick used for hoisting out the third boat, and the

port lifeboat was also damaged. Shells burst in the well deck and

holed the big boat, so in this case, as all his boats were ‘done in,’

the captain had to give up the idea of ‘abandoning’ ship. There was

nothing for it but to open fire, though it was not easy for orders to

be heard in that indescribable din when shells were bursting, steam

pouring out from the burst winch-pipe, wounded men in great pain, and

_Wonganella’s_ own boiler-steam blowing off with its annoying roar. As

soon as fire was opened, the submarine dived and then fired a torpedo,

which was avoided by _Wonganella_ going astern with her engines, the

torpedo just missing the ship’s fore-foot by 10 feet. No more was seen

of the enemy, and at dusk the armed steam yacht _Iolanda_ was met, from

whom a doctor was obtained, thus saving the lives of several of the

wounded. In this engagement, whilst the White Ensign was being hoisted,

the signal halyards were shot away, so the ensign had to be carried up

the rigging and secured thereto.

_Wonganella_ was holed on the water-line and hit elsewhere, but she

put into Gibraltar on March 13, and on the evening of June 19 of the

same year we find her out in the Atlantic west of the south-west

Irish coast on her way homeward-bound from Halifax. A submarine bore

down on her from the north, and at the long range of 8,000 yards was

soon straddling _Wonganella_. Now the Q-ship happened to have on

board thirty survivors from a steamer recently sunk, so again it was

impossible to attempt the ‘abandon ship’ deception. She therefore

used her smoke-screen—at this time ships were being supplied with

special smoke-making apparatus—and then ran down the wind at varying

speeds and on various courses, with the hope that the enemy would

chase quickly. _Wonganella_ would then turn in the smoke-cloud and

suddenly emerge and close the enemy at a more suitable range. But the

best-laid schemes of Q-ships are subject to the laws of chance, for

now there appeared another merchant ship heading straight towards this

scene, and thus unwittingly frustrated the further development of the

encounter. This ‘merchant ship’ was the Q-ship _Aubrietia_ (Q 13), who

did, in fact, receive a signal from _Wonganella_ that no assistance was

required; but by that time it was too late to withdraw. The submarine,

after shelling _Wonganella_ through the smoke, abandoned the attack and

withdrew without ever scoring a hit.

During all these months the disguised steam trawlers were continuing

their arduous work. On August 20, 1916, the _Gunner_ from Granton

engaged a submarine during the afternoon, but the German subsequently

dived. _Gunner_ then proceeded on a westerly course whilst she altered

her disguise, and then that same evening encountered this submarine

again, shelled her, but once more the enemy broke off the fight.

The disguised Granton trawler _Speedwell_ was also operating in a

manner similar to _Gunner_, and in the following March the trawler

_Commissioner_ began her decoy work. She was a 161-ton ship armed

with a 12-pounder, her method of working being as follows: Lieutenant

F. W. Charles, R.N.R., was in command of the fighting portion of

the crew, but her fishing skipper was otherwise in charge of the

ship. _Commissioner_ proceeded to join the Granton fishing fleet,

looking like any other steam trawler, and then shot her trawl and

carried on like the rest of the fleet. When a submarine should appear

_Commissioner_ would cut away her fishing gear and then attack the

enemy. Such an occasion actually occurred the very day after she first

joined the fishing fleet, but the submarine was not sunk.

A similar decoy was the Granton steam trawler _Rosskeen_, which left

the Firth of Forth to ‘fish’ about 20 miles east of the Longstone.

Three days later she was just about to shoot her trawl when a shot came

whistling over her wheelhouse, and a large submarine was then seen

8,000 yards away. After twenty minutes, during which the enemy’s shells

fell uncomfortably close, _Rosskeen_ cut away her gear and ‘abandoned’

ship. The submarine then obligingly approached on the surface towards

the rowing boat, and when the range was down to 1,200 yards _Rosskeen_,

who was armed with a 12-pounder and 6-pounder, opened fire from the

former and hit the submarine, the conning-tower being very badly

damaged by the third shot. Two more shells got home, and by this time

the enemy had had enough, and dived.

These trawlers were undoubtedly both a valuable protection to the

fishermen (who had been repeatedly attacked by the enemy) and a subtle

trap for some of the less experienced submarine captains. During May

two more trawlers, the _Strathallan_ and _Strathearn_, were similarly

commissioned, and even steam drifters such as the _Fort George_

(armed with one 6-pounder) were employed in this kind of work. On the

thirteenth of June _Strathearn_ was fishing 19 miles east of the Bell

Rock when five shots were fired at her, presumably by a submarine,

though owing to the hazy weather nothing could be seen. The enemy then

evidently sighted a destroyer and disappeared. On the following day

_Fort George_ was fishing about 35 miles east of May Island, when she

was attacked by submarine at 2,000 yards. It was ten o’clock at night,

and the drifter, after the third round, secured her fishing gear and

returned the fire. The enemy was evidently surprised, for after the

drifter had fired three shells the German broke off the engagement

and submerged, but with his fourth and fifth rounds he had hit _Fort

George_, killing two and wounding another couple.

But on the following twenty-eighth of January _Fort George_ was about

14 miles east of May Island, with the decoy trawler _W. S. Bailey_

(Lieutenant C. H. Hudson, D.S.C., R.N.R.). The two ships were listening

on their hydrophones when a submarine was distinctly heard some

distance away, and it was assumed that the enemy was steering for May

Island, so the _W. S. Bailey_ after proceeding for a quarter of an

hour in that direction listened again, and the sounds were heard more

plainly. For an hour and a half the enemy was determinedly hunted,

and just after 9 p.m. the sounds became very distinct, so the trawler

steamed full speed ahead in the submarine’s direction, dropped a depth

charge, listened, and then, as the enemy was still heard on the

hydrophone, a second charge was dropped. The trawler then went full

speed astern to check her way, and just as she was stopping there were

sighted two periscopes not 20 yards away, on the starboard quarter, and

going full speed. The trawler then dropped a third depth charge over

the spot where the periscopes had disappeared, and nothing further was

heard on the hydrophone, but a fourth charge was then let go to make

sure, and the position was buoyed, and the disguised craft remained

in the vicinity until January 30. A few days later the _W. S. Bailey_

swept with her chain-sweep over the position, and on each occasion the

sweep brought up in the place that had been buoyed, and a quantity of

oil was seen. Local fishermen accustomed to working their gear along

this bottom reported that the obstruction was quite new. In short, the

_W. S. Bailey_ had succeeded in destroying UB 63, a submarine about 180

feet long and well armed with a 4·1-inch gun and torpedoes. For this

useful service Lieutenant Hudson received a bar to his D.S.C., while

Skipper J. H. Lawrence, R.N.R., was awarded the D.S.C.

Thus, in all waters and in all manner of ships wearing every kind of

disguise, the shy submarine was being tempted and sought out, though

every month decoy work was becoming more and more difficult: for though

you might fool the whole German submarine service in the early stages

of Q-ships, it was impossible that you could keep on bluffing all of

them every time. The most that could be expected was that as a reward

for your constant vigilance and perfect organization you might one day

catch him off his guard through his foolishness or lack of experience

or incautiousness. But every indecisive action made it worse for the

Q-ships, for that vessel was a mark for future attack and the enemy’s

intelligence department was thereby enriched, and outgoing submarines

could be warned against such a trawler or such a tramp whose guns had a

dead sector on such a bearing. Thus an inefficient Q-ship captain would

be a danger not merely to himself and his men, but to the rest of the

force. Nothing succeeds like success, and there was nothing so useful

as to make a clean job of the submarine-sinking, so that he could never

get back home and tell the news. Surprise, whether in real life or

fiction, is a factor that begins to lose its power in proportion to its

frequency of use. It was so in the Q-ships, and that is why, after a

certain point had been reached, this novel method became so difficult

and so barren in results.

Q-Ships and Their Story · 第 16 / 18 章