THE DESTRUCTION OF “KOENIGSBERG”
The story of the destruction of _Koenigsberg_ by the twin monitors
_Severn_ and _Mersey_ in the Rufigi Delta, has an interest that far
transcends the intrinsic military importance of depriving the enemy of
a cruiser already useless in sea war. For the narrative of events will
bring to our attention at once the extreme complexity and the diversity
of the tasks that the Royal Navy in war is called upon to discharge. It
is worth examining in detail, if only to illustrate the novelty of the
operations which officers, with no such previous experience, may at any
moment be called upon to undertake, and the extraordinary combination
of patience, courage, skill, and energy with which when experience at
last comes, it is turned to immediate profit. The incident possesses,
besides, certain technical aspects of the very highest importance. For
it gives in its simplest form perfect examples of how guns should not
and should be used when engaged in indirect fire, and by affording
this illuminating contrast, is highly suggestive of the progress that
may be made in naval gunnery when scientific method is universally
applied. The incident, then, is worth setting out and examining in some
detail, and there is additional reason for doing this, in that the
accounts that originally appeared were either altogether inaccurate or
so incomplete as to be misleading. First, then, to a narrative of the
event itself.
_Koenigsberg_ was a light unarmoured cruiser of about 3,400 tons
displacement, and was laid down in December 1905. She carried an
armament of ten 4.1-inch guns, and was protected by a 2-inch armoured
deck. The Germans had begun the construction of vessels of this class
about seven years before with _Gazelle_, which was followed in the
next year by _Niobe_ and _Nymphe_, and then by four more--including
_Ariadne_, destroyed by _Lion_ in the affair of the Heligoland
Bight--which were laid down in 1900. Two years later came the three
_Frauenlobs_, and the _Bremen_ class--five in number--succeeded these
in 1903-4. In 1905 followed _Leipzig_, _Danzig_, and finally the ship
that concerns us to-day. All these vessels had the same armament, but
in the six years the displacement had gone up 1,000 tons. The speed
had increased from 21½ knots to about 24, and the nominal radius
of action by about 50 per cent. _Koenigsberg_ was succeeded by the
_Stettins_ in 1906-7, the two _Dresdens_ in 1907-8, the four _Kolbergs_
in 1908-9, and the four _Breslaus_ in 1911. _Karlsruhe_, _Grodenz_,
and _Rostock_ were the only three of the 1912-13 programmes which were
completed when the war began. The process of growth, illustrated in
the advance of _Koenigsberg_ over _Niobe_, was maintained, so that
in the _Karlsruhe_ class in the programme of 1912, while the unit of
armament is preserved, we find that the number of guns had grown from
ten to twelve; the speed had advanced from 23½ to 28 knots, and the
displacement from 3,400 to nearly 5,000 tons. As we know now, in the
Battle of Jutland we destroyed light cruisers of a still later class
in which, in addition to every other form of defence, the armament had
been changed from 4.1-inch to 6.7 guns.
_Koenigsberg_, on the very eve of the outbreak of war, was seen by
three ships of the Cape Squadron off Dar-es-Salaam, the principal
port of German East Africa. She was then travelling due north at top
speed, and was not seen or heard of again until, a week later, she sank
the British steamer _City of Winchester_ near the island of Socotra.
There followed three weeks during which no news of her whereabouts
reached us. At the end of the month it was known that she had returned
south and was in the neighbourhood of Madagascar. At the end of the
third week in September she came upon H.M.S. _Pegasus_ off Zanzibar.
_Pegasus_ was taken completely unawares while she was cleaning furnaces
and boilers and engaged in general repairs. It was not possible then
for her to make any effective reply to _Koenigsberg’s_ sudden assault,
and a few hours after _Koenigsberg_ left she sank. Some time between
the end of September and the end of October, _Koenigsberg_ retreated
up one of the mouths of the Rufigi River, and was discovered near the
entrance on October 31 by H.M.S. _Chatham_. From then onwards, all the
mouths of the river were blockaded and escape became impossible. Her
captain seemingly determined, in these circumstances, to make the ship
absolutely safe. He took advantage of the high water tides, and forced
his vessel some twelve or more miles up the river. Here she was located
by aeroplane at the end of November. Various efforts had been made to
reach her by gunfire. It was asserted at one time that H.M.S. _Goliath_
had indeed destroyed her by indirect bombardment. But there was never
any foundation for supposing the story to be true, and if in the
course of any of these efforts the ship suffered any damage, it became
abundantly clear, when she was finally engaged by the monitors, either
that her armament had never been touched, or that all injuries had been
made good.
The problems which the existence of _Koenigsberg_ propounded were:
first, Was it a matter of very urgent moment to destroy her? Second,
How could her destruction be effected? The importance of destroying her
was great. There was, of course, no fear of her affecting the naval
position seriously if she should be able to escape; but that she could
do some, and possibly great, damage if at large, the depredations
of _Emden_ in the neighbouring Indian Ocean, and of _Karlsruhe_ off
Pernambuco, had proved very amply indeed. If she was not destroyed
then, a close blockade would have to be rigidly maintained, and it was
a question whether the maintenance of the blockade would not involve,
in the end, just as much trouble as her destruction. Then there was a
further point. Sooner or later, the forces of Great Britain and Belgium
would certainly have to undertake the conquest of German East Africa.
While _Koenigsberg_ could not be used as a unit for defence, her crew
and armament might prove valuable assets to the enemy. Finally, there
was a question of prestige. The Germans thought that they had made
their ship safe. If the thing was possible, it was our obvious duty to
prove that their confidence was misplaced.
If the ship was to be destroyed, what was to be the method of her
destruction? She could not be reached by ship’s guns. For no normal
warship of superior power would be of less draught than _Koenigsberg_,
and unless the draught were very materially less, it would be quite
impossible to get within range, except by processes as slow and
laborious as those by which she had attained her anchorage. Was it
worth while attempting a cutting-out expedition? It would not, of
course, be on the lines of the dashing and gallant adventures so
brilliantly drawn for us by Captain Marryat. The boats would proceed
under steam and would not be rowed; they would not sally out to board
the enemy and fight his crew hand to hand, but to get near enough to
start a torpedo at him, discharged from dropping gear in a picket boat.
To have attempted this would have been to face a grave risk, for not
only might the several entrances be mined, but the boats clearly would
have to advance unprotected up a river whose banks were covered with
bush impenetrable to the eye. The enemy, it was known, had not only
considerable military forces in the colony, but those well supplied
with field artillery. And there were on board _Koenigsberg_ not only
the 4.1-inch guns of her main armament, but a considerable battery of
eight or perhaps twelve, 3-inch guns--a weapon amply large enough to
sink a ship’s picket boat, and that with a single shot. An attack by
boats then promised no success at all, for the excellent reason that it
would be the simplest thing on earth for the enemy to defeat it long
before the expedition had reached the point from which it could strike
a blow at its prey.
There was then only one possible solution of the problem. It was to
employ armed vessels of sufficient gun-power to do the work quickly,
and of shallow enough draught to get to a fighting range quickly. If
the thing were not done quickly, an attack from the masked banks might
be fatal. If the guns of such a vessel were corrected by observers
in aeroplanes, they might be enabled to do the trick. Fortunately,
at the very opening of the war, the Admiralty had purchased from the
builders three river monitors, then under construction in England for
the Brazilian Government. They drew but a few feet. Their free board
was low, their centre structure afforded but a small mark; the two
6-inch guns they carried fore and aft were protected by steel shields.
They had been employed with marked success against the Germans in
their first advance to the coast of Belgium. When the enemy, having
established himself in the neighbourhood of Nieuport, had time to bring
up and emplace long-range guns of large calibre, the further employment
of these river monitors on this, their first job, was no longer
possible. For the moment, then, they seemed to be out of work, and
here was an undertaking exactly suited to their capacity. It was not
the sort of undertaking for which they had been designed. But it was
one to which, undoubtedly they could be adapted. Of the three monitors
_Mersey_ and _Severn_ were therefore sent out to Mafia Island, which
lies just off the Rufigi Delta and had been seized by us early in the
proceedings.
The first aeroplanes available proved to be unequal to the task,
because of the inadequacy of their lifting power. The atmosphere in
the tropics is of a totally different buoyancy from that in colder
latitudes, and a machine whose engines enable it to mount quite easily
to a height of 4,000 or 5,000 feet in Northern Europe, cannot, in
Central Africa, rise more than a few hundred feet from the ground.
New types of machines, therefore, had to be sent, and these had to
be tested and got ready for work. For many weeks then, before the
actual attack was undertaken, we must picture to ourselves the Island
of Mafia, hitherto unoccupied and indeed untouched by Europeans, in
the process of conversion into an effective base for some highly
complicated combined operations of aircraft and sea force. The virgin
forest had to be cleared away and the ground levelled for an aerodrome.
The flying men had to study and master machines of a type of which they
had no previous experience. The monitors had to have their guns tested
and their structural arrangement altered and strengthened to fit them
for their new undertaking. And indeed preparing the monitors was a
serious matter. The whole delta of the Rufigi is covered with forest
and thick bush--nowhere are the trees less than sixty feet high, and
in places they rise to nearly three times this height. To engage the
_Koenigsberg_ with any prospect of success, five, six, or seven miles
of one of the river branches would certainly have to be traversed.
There was, it is true, a choice of three mouths by which these vessels
might proceed. But it would be almost certain that the different mouths
would be protected by artillery, machine guns, and rifles, and highly
probable that one or all of them would be mined. The thick bush would
make it impossible for the monitors to engage any hidden opponents with
sufficient success to silence their fire. And obviously any portion of
the bank might conceal, not only field guns and riflemen, but stations
from which torpedoes could be released against them. It was imperative
therefore, to protect the monitors from such gun fire as might be
encountered, and to take every step possible to preserve their buoyancy
if a mine or torpedo was encountered.
The _Trent_ had come out as a mother ship to these two unusual
men-of-war, and from the moment of their arrival, she became an active
arsenal for the further arming and protection of her charges. Many tons
of plating were laid over their vulnerable portions--the steering gear,
magazines, navigating bridges, etc., having to be specially considered.
The gun shields were increased in size, and every precaution taken to
protect the gunners from rifle fire. Where plating could not be added,
sandbags were employed. By these means the danger of the ship being
incapacitated, or the crew being disabled by what the enemy could do
from the bank, was reduced to a minimum. These precautions would not,
of course, have been a complete protection against continuous hitting
by the plunging fire of _Koenigsberg’s_ artillery. The more difficult
job was to protect the ships against mines and torpedoes. Their first
and best protection, of course, was their shallow draught. But it was
not left at that; and most ingenious devices were employed which would
have gone a fair way to keep the ships floating even had an under-water
mine been exploded beneath the bottom. At intervals, between these
spells of dockyard work, the monitors were taken out for practice in
conjunction with the aeroplanes. Mafia Island, which had already served
as a dockyard and aerodrome, was now once more to come in useful as
a screen between the monitors and the target. The various operations
necessary for indirect fire were carefully studied. Gun-layers, of
course, cannot aim at a mark they cannot see. The gun, therefore, has
to be trained and elevated on information exteriorly obtained, and
some object within view--at exactly the same height above the water
as the gun-layer--has to be found on which he is to direct his sight.
The gun is now elevated to the approximate range, a shot is fired and
the direction of the shot and the distance upon the sight are altered
in accordance with the correction. At last a point of aim for the
gun-layer, and a sight elevation and deflection are found, and his duty
then is to fire away, aiming perhaps at a twig or a leaf a few hundred
yards off, while the projectile he discharges falls upon a target four,
five, or even six miles off.
THE FIRST ATTEMPT
At last all was ready for the great attack. The crew had all been put
into khaki, every fitting had been cleared out of the monitors; they
had slipped off in the dark the night before and were anchored when,
at 3:30 in the morning, all was ready. I will now let a participant
continue the story:
“I woke up hearing the chatter of the seedy boys and the voice of the
quartermaster telling someone it was 3:20. I hurried along to my cabin
and was dressed in three minutes; khaki shirt, trousers, shoes, and
socks. A servant brought me a cup of cocoa and some biscuits, and I
then gathered the waterbottle and a haversack of sandwiches, biscuits,
brandy flask, glass phial of morphia, box of matches, cigarettes, and
made my way up to the top.
“It was quite dark in spite of the half moon partly hidden by clouds,
and men wandering about the docks putting the last touches. It was
impossible to recognize any one as all were in khaki and cap and
helmet. By 3:45 all were at general quarters and at ---- we weighed and
proceeded. Both motor-boats were towing, one on either side amidships.
Two whalers anchored off Komo Island, and burning a single light each,
acted as a guide to the mouth. We soon began to see the dim outline of
the shore on the right hand, and ---- declared he could distinguish
the mouth. There were four of us in the top. We arranged ourselves
conveniently, ---- and ---- taking a side each to look out. The Gunnery
Lieutenant took the fore 6-inch and starboard battery. I had the after
6-inch and port battery. I dozed at first for about ten minutes, but
as the island neared woke up completely. We had no idea what sort of
reception we should have, and speculated about it. It was quite cold
looking over the top. The land came nearer and nearer. We were going
slow, sounding all the way. On the starboard side it was quite visible
as the light grew stronger and stronger. Suddenly when we were well
inside the right bank we heard a shot fired on the starboard quarter,
but could not see the flash. Then came another, but only at the third
did we see where it came from. It was a field-gun on the right, but we
had already passed it, and both it and the pom-pom were turned on the
_Mersey_ astern of us.
“At least nothing fell near us. It was still not light enough for us
to judge the range, but as the alarm had been given we opened fire
with the 3-pounders, starboard side, at the fieldgun. As we came up
to the point on the port side I trained all the port battery on the
foremost bearing, and opened fire as soon as the guns would bear. We
were now going pretty well full speed. Some snipers were hidden in the
trees and rushes, and let us have it as we went past. The report of
their rifles sounded quite different from ours, but we were abreast
before they started, and were soon past. It was just getting light. We
were inside the river before the sun rose, and went quite fast up. It
was just about dead low water as we entered, neap tide. The river was
about 700 yards broad. The banks were well defined by the green trees,
mangroves probably, which grew right down to the edges. The land beyond
was quite flat on the left, but about four miles to the right rose to
quite a good height--Pemba Hills. Here and there were native huts well
back from the river; we could see them from the top though they were
invisible from the deck. On either side as we passed up were creeks of
all sorts and sizes at low tides, more of them on the port side than
on the starboard. As we passed, or rather before, we turned the port
or starboard batteries on them and swept either side. The gun-layers
had orders to fire at anything that moved or looked suspicious. We
controlled them more or less, and gave them the bearings of the creeks.
---- was in charge of those on deck, and the crews themselves fired or
ceased fire if they saw anything or had sunk anything. We checked them
from time to time as the next creek opened up. We were looking ahead
most of the time, but I believe (from ----) we sank three dhows and a
boat. Whether they were harmless or not, I don’t know, but it had to
be done as a precaution. We made a fine noise, the sharp report of the
five 3-pounders and one 4.7 and the crackle of the machine guns (four
a side) must have been heard for miles. The _Hyacinth_, the tugs, the
_Trent_, the _Weymouth_, and other odd craft were demonstrating at the
other mouths of the Rufigi, and we could hear the deep boom of their
6-inch now and then. I believe, too, that there was a demonstration by
colliers, etc., off Dar-es-Salaam at the same time.
“I had thought that the entry would be the worst part, but it was not
much. A few bullets got us and marked the plates or went through the
hammocks but no one was hit, and as our noise completely drowned the
report of their rifles I doubt if many knew we were being sniped. The
forecastle hands knew all about it later on. As they hauled in the
anchor or let it go they nipped behind any shelter there was, and could
hear the bullets zip-zip into the sandbags. The _Mersey_ astern was
blazing away into the banks just as we were. There was probably nothing
in most of the creeks--but we did not know it then.
“It was 6:30 o’clock by the time we reached ‘our’ island, where the
river branches into three, at the end of which we were to anchor. We
were steering straight up the middle of the stream, and then swung
slowly round to port, dropped the stern anchor, let out seventy
fathoms of wire, dropped the main anchor, went astern, and then
tightened in both cables, so that we were anchored fast bow and stern.
As soon as we steadied down a bearing was taken on the chart and the
gun laid--about eight minutes’ work. It was then found that, thanks to
the curious run of the current, the fore 6-inch would not bear, and we
had to take up the bow anchor and let it go again to get us squarer
towards the _Koenigsberg_.
“We could see the aeroplane right high up, and received the signal
‘open fire.’ We were not quite ready, however. From the moment when
we turned to port to take up our firing position to the time we
were finally ready and had laid both guns, occupied about twenty
minutes. The _Koenigsberg_ started firing at us five minutes before
we were ready to start. Their first shot (from one gun only) fell on
the island, the next was on the edge of it, and very soon she was
straddling us. Where they were spotting from I don’t know, but they
must have been in a good position, and their spotting was excellent.
They never lost our range. The firing started, and for the next two
hours both sides were hard at it. I don’t believe any ship has been in
a hotter place without being hit. Their shooting was extraordinarily
good. Their salvoes of fire at first dropped 100 short, 50 over, 20 to
the right--then straddled us--then just short--then all round us, and
so on. We might have been hit fifty times--they could not have fired
better; but we were not hit at all, though a piece of shell was picked
up on the forecastle.
“The river was now a curious sight, as dead fish were coming to
the surface everywhere. It was the _Koenigsberg’s_ shells bursting
in the water which did the damage, and there were masses of them
everywhere--mostly small ones.
“We were firing all the time, of course. I attended to the W/T, and
passed the messages to the Gunnery Lieutenant, who made the corrections
and passed them to the guns. ---- watched the aeroplane and the banks
as far as possible. ---- attended to the conning tower voice pipe.
We got H. T. fairly soon, and the _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes were now
only four guns. We heard the boom; then before it had finished came
whizz-z-z-z or plop, plop, plop, plop, as the shells went just short or
over. They were firing much more rapidly than we, and I should think
more accurately, but if I had been in the _Koenigsberg_ I should,
probably, have thought the opposite! All this time the 3-pounders
had occasional outbursts as they saw, or thought they saw, something
moving. Occasionally, too, the smoke and fumes from our funnel drifted
across the top, and it was unpleasant for a minute or two. We could
see now where the _Koenigsberg_ was, and the smoke from her funnels,
or that our shells made. She was firing salvoes of four with great
rapidity and regularity, about three times a minute, and every one of
them close. Some made a splash in the water so near that you could have
reached the place with a boat-hook.
“At 7:40 (so I am told, as, though I tried I lost all count of time) a
shell hit the fore 6-inch of the _Mersey_ and a column of flame shot
up. Four were killed and four wounded. Part of the shield was blown
away. Only one man remained standing, and after swaying about he fell
dead. One had his head completely blown off. Another was lying with his
arm torn out at the shoulder, and his body covered with yellow flames
from a lyddite charge which caught. The R. N. R. Lieutenant in charge
was knocked senseless and covered with blood, but had only a scratch
on the wrist to show for it. The gun-layer had an extraordinary
escape, and only lost three fingers. Two men escaped as they had just
gone forward to weigh the anchor. A burning charge fell into the shell
room below, but was fortunately got out. Another shell burst in the
motor-boat alongside the _Mersey_ and sank it. One burst in the water
about a foot from the side, and we thought she was holed. The _Mersey_
captain then wisely moved and went down river, taking up a position of
1,000 yards down, by the right bank (looking at the _Koenigsberg_).
She started in again with her after gun, the other being disabled. For
an hour and twenty minutes we went on, and the _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes
came steadily and regularly back, as close as ever. It seemed as if it
could not go on much longer. We registered four hits, and the salvoes
were reduced from four to three, and later to two, and then to one gun.
Whether we had reduced them to silence or whether the _Koenigsberg’s_
crew left them and saved ammunition it is impossible to say.
“The aeroplane spotting had been fair, but now someone else started in
and made the signals unintelligible. Then we got spotting corrections
from two sources--both differing widely. Finally, the aeroplane made
“W. O.” (going home). We weighed and took up station again by the
_Mersey_. She moved to get out of our way, and when another aeroplane
came we started it again. The replies from the _Koenigsberg_ were not
so frequent, and nothing like so accurate. It was as if they could not
spot the fall of shot. The aeroplane soon disappeared, and as we could
see the mast of the _Koenigsberg_ (I could only see one personally) and
a column of smoke which varied in thickness from time to time, we tried
to spot for ourselves. It was useless as, though we saw the burst
(or thought we did) in line with the masts, we did not know whether
they were over or short. Finally, we moved up the river nearer, still
keeping on the right side, and set to work again.
“There were two cruisers--_Weymouth_ and _Pyramus_, I think--at the
mouth. The _Weymouth_ did a good deal of firing at Pemba Hill and a
native village close to us, where there might be spotters.
“When we reached W/T corrections now they were of no use. Most were
‘did not observe fall of shot,’ or 600 short. We went up 1,000, but
still received the same signal--whether from the aeroplane or the
_Koenigsberg_, I don’t know. It was most confusing. We crept up the
scale to maximum elevation. Finally, we moved up the river again, but
put our nose on the mud. We were soon off, and moved over to the other
side and continued firing, spotting as well as we could (but getting
nothing definite) till four o’clock, when we packed up and prepared
to come out. We swept the banks again on both sides, but only at the
entrance was there opposition. We made such a noise ourselves that we
drowned the report of any shots fired at us. Two field-guns made good
practice at us from the right bank (looking at the _Koenigsberg_).
One came very close indeed to the top--so much so that we all turned
to look at each other, thinking it must have touched somewhere. One
burst about five yards over us. Another burst fifteen yards from the
_Mersey_, and a second hit her sounding boom. We could see the white
smoke of the discharge and fired lyddite, but the object was invisible.
“It was getting dusk as we got outside at full speed. The secure was
sounded at about 4:45. We had been at general quarters for thirteen
hours, and eleven of them had been under fire. Outside the other ships
were waiting for us near Komo Island, and we went straight alongside
the _Trent_. Each ship cheered us as we passed. The _Mersey_ put her
wounded on the _Trent_, and then pushed off to bury the dead.
“Tuesday, July 6, was the day of the first attempt, and one of the
worst I ever had or am likely to have. We were at our stations from
3:45 A.M. till 4:45 P.M., and eleven hours of that were under fire. The
engine-room people were not relieved the whole time, and they were down
there the whole time in a temperature of 132°-135°! It was hot up in
the top--but child’s play to the engine room.”
SUCCESS
On July 11 the second attack was made, but made in a very different
manner from the first. Once more let us allow the same writer to
complete the story:
“We went to General Quarters at 10:40 A.M. and were inside the entrance
by 11:40. How well we seemed to know the place! I knew exactly where
the beastly field guns at the mouth would open fire and exactly when
they would cease--as we pushed in, and so if their shots went over
us they would land on the opposite bank among their own troops. Very
soon came the soft whistle of the shell, then again and again--but we
were nearing the entrance and they turned on the _Mersey_. They hit
her twice, wounding two men and knocking down the after 6-inch gun
crew--none was hurt, however. I spotted a boat straight ahead making
across the river for dear life--they may only have been natives, but we
fired the 6-inch at them till they leapt ashore and disappeared.
“Up the river we went. I knew each creek, and almost each tree, and as
before we blazed into them just before we passed.
“We left the _Mersey_ at the place where we anchored last time in the
hope that she would draw the _Koenigsberg’s_ fire and leave us a free
hand. The _Koenigsberg_, however, fired one salvo at her and then
for the rest of the day concentrated on us. She was plugging us for
seventeen minutes before we could return her fire. The salvoes of four
were dropping closer than ever if possible and afterwards almost every
man in the ship found a bit of German shell on board as a souvenir.
They were everywhere--in the sandbags, on the decks, round the engine
room--but not a soul was even scratched!
“We went on higher up the river than last time and finally anchored
just at the top of ‘our’ old island. As the after 6-inch gun’s crew
were securing the stern anchor two shells fell, one on either side,
within three feet of the side, and drenched the quarter-deck. It was a
very critical time. If she hit us we were probably finished, and she
came as near as possible without actually touching. I had bet 5_s._
that she would start with salvoes of four guns, and I won my bet. They
did not last long, however, once we opened fire. It was a near thing,
and had to end pretty quickly one way or the other. We had received
orders that she must be destroyed, and the captain, the night before,
had told all hands assembled on the quarter-deck that we had to do it.
We intended to go up nearer and nearer, and if necessary sight her. Of
course we could not have gone through it--but there is no doubt that on
the 11th it was either the monitors or the _Koenigsberg_.
“We had no sooner anchored and laid the guns (the chart proved to be
one mile out in the distance from us to the _Koenigsberg_!) than the
aeroplane signalled she was ready to spot. Our first four salvoes,
at about one minute interval, were all signalled as ‘Did not observe
fall of shot.’ We came down 400, then another 400 and more to the
left. The next was spotted as 200 yards over and about 200 to the
right. The next 150 short and 100 to the left. The necessary orders
were sent to the guns, and at the seventh salvo we hit with one and
were just over with the other. We hit eight times in the next twelve
shots! It was frightfully exciting. The _Koenigsberg_ was now firing
salvoes of three only. The aeroplane signalled all hits were forward,
so we came a little left to get her amidships. The machine suddenly
signalled ‘Am hit: coming down; send a boat.’ And there she was about
half way between us and the _Koenigsberg_ planing down. As they fell
they continued to signal our shots, for we, of course, kept firing.
The aeroplane fell into the water about 150 yards from the _Mersey_
and turned a somersault; one man was thrown clear, but the other had a
struggle to get free. Finally both got away and were swimming for ten
minutes before the _Mersey’s_ motor-boat reached them--beating ours by
a short head. They were uninjured and as merry as crickets!
“We kept on firing steadily the whole time, as we knew we were
hitting--about one salvo a minute. The _Koenigsberg_ was now firing
two guns; it is hard to be certain, as there was much to do and a good
noise going on. Still, within seventeen minutes of our opening fire I
noticed and logged it down that she was firing two. She may have been
reduced to that before, but she never fired more after.
“In a very short time there was a big explosion from the direction
of the _Koenigsberg_, and from then on she was never free from
smoke--sometimes more, sometimes less; at one moment belching out
clouds of black smoke, then yellow, with dull explosions from time
to time. We kept on firing regularly ourselves, one salvo to the
minute--or perhaps two salvoes in three minutes, but the gun-layers
were told to keep cool and make sure of their aim. There was one
enormous explosion which shot up twice as high as the _Koenigsberg’s_
masts, and the resulting smoke was visible from our deck. The men sent
up a huge cheer.
“For some time now we had had no reply from the _Koenigsberg_. At 12:53
I fancy she fired one gun, but I was not certain. She certainly did not
fire afterwards. As our guns were getting hot we increased the range
from 9,550 to 9,575, and later to 9,625--as when hot the shots are apt
to fall short. Fine columns of smoke, black, white, and yellow, and
occasional dull reports rewarded us, but we were making no mistake and
kept at it. The aeroplane was not available, and we had no one to spot
for us, remember; still we could see the _K.’s_ masts from our foretop,
and the smoke, etc., told its own tale.
“Another aeroplane turned up, and we now signalled the _Mersey_ to pass
on up stream and open fire nearer. She gave us a great cheer as she
passed.
“We raised our topmast and had a look at the _Koenigsberg_. She was a
fine sight. One mast was leaning over and the other was broken at the
maintop, and smoke was pouring out of the mast as out of a chimney.
The funnels were gone, and she was a mass of smoke and flame from
end to end. We had done all the firing which had destroyed her. The
_Mersey_ only started afterwards. That was part of the plan. _Only
one ship was to fire at a time, and then there could be no possible
confusion in the spotting corrections_; it was a lesson we learned on
the Tuesday before! We started. The _Mersey_ was then to move up past
her and fire for an hour and so on. Fortunately it was not necessary,
and as it turned out would have been impossible. If we had gone on we
should probably be there now! When the _Mersey_ passed us she struck
a bar about 1,000 yards higher up, and after trying to cross in two
different places 100 yards apart, anchored for firing. There was only
eight feet of water on the bar and the tide was falling. If we had got
up we should probably have had to wait twelve hours for high tide, and
probably the Germans would have annoyed us from the banks!
“The _Mersey_ fired about twenty salvoes and made several hits, and as
the aeroplane had signalled ‘O. K.’ (target destroyed) we prepared to
leave the river. Before we went the Gunnery Lieutenant and myself went
to the top of the mast to get a better view, and I took a photo of the
smoke, resting the camera on the very top of the topmast! The Captain
came up too, and there were the three of us clinging to the lightning
conductor with one arm, glasses in the other, and our feet on the empty
oil drum we had fixed up there as a crow’s-nest.
“Just as we were starting back we saw some telegraph poles crossing
a creek behind us. It was undoubtedly the communication used by the
German spotters. We let fly with everything and smashed them up. A pole
is not an easy thing to hit, and I expect the destruction of those two
cost the Government about £300 in ammunition.
“All the way down we swept the banks and made up our minds to knock out
the field guns at the mouth if we possibly could. We tried our best,
but I don’t think we touched them. They fired on us till we were out of
range. They did not hit--but I saw one fragment about six inches by one
inch picked up on the boat deck.
“Two tugs were waiting over the bar, and after giving us a cheer took
us on tow to help us back to _Trent_. The _Weymouth_, with the Admiral
on board, came round and then passed us at speed; all hands lined the
ship and, led by the small white figure of the Admiral on the bridge,
gave us three splendid cheers. It was one of the finest sights I have
ever seen. We answered back--and what a difference there was to our
cheers of Tuesday last. We made about three times the noise....
“I went to the Captain’s cabin for half an hour to copy out the notes I
had taken. From the very first shot we fired I kept a record of every
shot fired by the 6-inch guns, and all I could see or hear round about,
writing something every minute, i.e. 12:37 2 guns. H.T. J.M. 12:38 2
guns. H.T. 12:38½ (_Koenigsberg_ firing 2). Column of smoke; aeroplane
hit and coming down, etc.
“I ought to explain that ‘J.M.,’ ‘B.F.,’ ‘F.20,’ ‘G.15,’ ‘H.T.,’ and so
on are signals from the aeroplanes. ‘H.T.’ means ‘a hit.’ In order to
make sure of the right letters having passed the man shouts not ‘H.T.’
alone, ‘H. for Harry, T for Tommy,’ and then there can be no confusion.
The man at the voice pipe in the conning tower simply roared out ‘H.
for Harry, T. for Tommy,’ each time it was signalled. Well, when I was
making my copy in his cabin on the way back, the Captain came in for a
moment. He leaned his hand quietly on my shoulder and with a huge sigh
said, ‘If ever I live to have a son, his name shall be Harry Tommy!’ I
firmly believe he meant it too, at the time!”
If the people in _Severn_ and _Mersey_ had had a narrow squeak for it,
not once but a dozen times, from _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes, the spotting
party in the aeroplane must have had just as exciting a time. And, as
we have seen from the foregoing account, with them _Koenigsberg_ was
more fortunate. On July 11th everything was against Lieutenant Cull,
the first pilot to go up, and Flight-Sub-Lieutenant Arnold, who was
acting as observer. To begin with it was a cloudy day, and the machine
had to be kept dangerously low if the observer was to do his work.
The aeroplane got over the target at about 12:20, while _Mersey_ was
firing hard. But this fire of the _Mersey_ had nothing to do with the
organized effort to destroy the enemy. It was merely a blind--an effort
to get the enemy’s observer on land to deflect the fire on that ship on
to _Mersey_, while _Severn_ got ready for the real work. The aeroplane,
therefore, paid no attention to _Mersey’s_ fire and telegraphed no
observations. Ten minutes later _Severn_ opened fire and _Mersey_
ceased. _Mersey’s_ diversion did for a time bring _Koenigsberg’s_ guns
in her direction. But no sooner did _Severn_ open fire than she got
the full benefit of _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes of four, which followed
each other at intervals of about a minute. Five minutes after _Severn_
opened at 12:30, _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes began to straddle her. Nine
minutes after _Severn_ opened fire the aeroplane signalled first hit.
And less than ten minutes after that Lieutenant Arnold telegraphed
‘We are hit; send boat.’ In point of fact, it is probable that the
aeroplane’s engine had been slightly injured earlier. For, dangerously
low as the machine had to fly at the beginning, it was found impossible
to keep even at that height, and as it got lower and slower, it
obviously became an easier mark for the _Koenigsberg’s_ 12-pounders. At
12:46 a terrific bump was felt in the machine, and shortly afterwards
the engine broke up with a rattle and a crash, and there was nothing
for it but to start sliding down. Imagine the situation! The machine,
between 3,000 and 4,000 feet in the air, nearly three miles from the
monitors; the only possible hope of safety to make this long glide and
then to land--if the bull may be permitted--in a narrow strip of river
bordered by impenetrable bush--the bush dotted with lofty trees! If
the machine missed the river and hit the trees, it was certain death
wherever it landed. If it missed the trees and hit the river, there
was palpably no safety unless it was within a very short distance of
the monitors. For nowhere else did the pilot and observer stand the
faintest chance of rescue. A situation more absolutely desperate could
hardly be imagined.
It was certainly not one in which the seemingly doomed occupants could
have been blamed if they had thought of their safety and of nothing
else. But while the pilot was, quite properly, concentrating his
attention on performing as nice a feat in flying as can be imagined,
Flight-Lieutenant Arnold, content to leave this matter in the skilled
hands of his comrade, continued imperturbably to carry on his duties.
_Severn_, having got the range, naturally continued firing.
Flight-Lieutenant Arnold, having been sent up to observe, continued
observing, and each shot that he observed, on what must have seemed his
last glide to certain death, was signalled to the control parties on
board the monitor. The gist of this was that six out of ten shots were
hitting, and apparently were hitting steadily, but all were striking
_Koenigsberg_ in the bows. Arnold’s last achievement as an observer
was to deflect this fire amidships and to the stern. And he had hardly
succeeded before the ‘plane crashed into the water 500 yards from the
_Mersey_. _Mersey_ had her motor-boat ready and it was sent full speed
to the rescue. Arnold had no difficulty in getting himself free, but
Lieutenant Cull was not so fortunate. In the excitement of his task
he had forgotten to loosen the straps that held his belt and feet,
and was fairly under water before he realized his predicament. How he
wrenched himself free of these impediments is somewhat difficult to
understand, and it is not surprising that his apparel suffered somewhat
severely from his efforts. When he came to the surface he found Arnold
scrambling about the wrecked machine in search of him, and both were
got safely into the boat. The machine, smashed and waterlogged in the
river, was of course past saving, and there was nothing for it but to
demolish it. Take it all in all, few prettier pieces of work in the
air--whether we look at the flight craftsmanship of the thing, or the
practical use that the last moments of flight were put to--have yet
been recorded.
A PROBLEM IN CONTROL
There are several features in these operations that are of great
interest. To begin with, the destruction of a ship by the indirect
fire of another ship had not, so far as I know, been systematically
attempted before. There was indeed a story of _Queen Elizabeth_ having
sunk a Turkish transport by a shot fired clean over the Gallipoli
peninsula. In the case of the _Queen Elizabeth’s_ victim the target was
not only incredibly far off but actually under way. But this must be
regarded as amongst the flukes of war, if indeed that may be called a
fluke when the right measure had been taken to ensure success. Still,
it was more probable that the attempt might be made a hundred times
without a hit being made than that the first shot fired should have
landed straight on the target. But here on the Rufigi the monitors had
gone up after making ample preparations and after full practice, to
achieve a particular object. It was to destroy a very small ship at a
range which, for the gun employed, must be considered extraordinarily
great. Ten thousand yards is relatively a longer range for a 6-inch
gun than is, say, 18,000 for a 15-inch. But while in this respect the
task proposed was extraordinarily difficult, there was one element
present that would distinguish it from almost any other known use of
naval guns. In engaging land forts, both on the Belgian coast and off
Gallipoli, there had been ample experience with a stationary target
engaged by a stationary ship. But here the firing ship was not only
stationary in the sense that it was moored, but was practically at rest
in that it was lying in smooth water with no roll or pitch to render
the gun-layers’ aim uncertain. The current did cause a certain veering,
but not a sufficient movement to embarrass laying. But if in this
respect the conditions were easy, they were extraordinarily difficult
in every other. The monitors, for instance, were as much exposed to
_Koenigsberg’s_ fire as was _Koenigsberg_ to that of the monitors,
and whereas _Koenigsberg’s_ guns could be spotted from a position on
shore the monitors’ fire had to be spotted by aeroplane. The whole of
the operations of _Severn_ and _Mersey_ then were not only carried out
under fire, but under an attack that on the second day as well as the
first was extraordinarily persistent and extraordinarily accurate.
That in the course of two days only one of our ships was hit, and that
one only once, must be considered a curiosity, for so good were the
gunnery arrangements of _Koenigsberg_ that each monitor when under fire
was straddled again and again by salvoes, and when not straddled had
the 4.2 shells falling in bunches either just short or just over them.
The explanation of her having failed to get more hits than she did,
while ultimately _Severn’s_ was completely effective, does not lie
in any inferiority of skill, but almost entirely in the fact that the
range, if exceptionally great for a 6-inch gun, was almost fabulous
for a 4.2, and next that _Koenigsberg_ was a much larger target than
either _Severn_ or _Mersey_. _Koenigsberg_ was probably aground, and
therefore showing from three to four feet more of her side than she
would at sea. Monitors are a craft with a very, very low freeboard,
with a comparatively small central house built up amidships. As a
point-blank target _Koenigsberg_ would probably be more than twice the
superficial area that either _Mersey_ or _Severn_ would present. The
contrast between them as virtual targets, that is, the target that
would be presented to the shell as it descended from a height upon the
ship, would not, of course, be so great, because the monitors were each
of them wider than the German cruiser, but even as a virtual target the
_Koenigsberg_ was much more favourable for the British guns.
But the master difficulty of the situation was for the men on the spot,
without previous experience of indirect fire, and unaided apparently by
any advice from headquarters as to the result of service experiments
elsewhere, to extemporize all the processes for finding and keeping the
range of a target invisible from the ship. The two essential elements
in these processes were (1) for the observer in the aeroplane to note
where each shot fell, and (2) to _inform the ship that fired it_
exactly what the position of the impact was, whether to the right or to
the left, over or short, and an approximate measurement in yards of its
distance from the target. No one of those concerned had ever engaged
in any similar operation. The aviators had not only never carried
observers to spot naval gunfire, they had none of them ever even flown
in the tropics, where the conditions of flight differ altogether
from those in more temperate zones. The observers were even more new
to the work than the aviators. Apparently some of them had never been
in flying machines before. They not only had to learn the elements
of spotting, they had to become familiar with the means of sending
communications. There seems at one time to have been considerable doubt
as to the best means to employ for communication. The means would have
to include not only a system of sending messages, whether by wireless,
by lights flashing a Morse code or otherwise, but the production of a
code as well. When these points were settled, the preliminary practices
of Mafia Island gave what appeared to be sufficient experience to show
that right principles were being followed. Only when this practice had
given satisfactory results was the first attempt of July 6th made.
In the course of that day’s firing the observers reported eight
possible hits during the first phase of the firing, and none
afterwards. Once or twice smoke was seen to issue from _Koenigsberg_
and in the course of the day the number of guns in her salvo fell from
five to three, and ultimately she was employing only a single gun.
The monitors had fired approximately 500 rounds to obtain these hits,
and had probably double this number fired at them. Opinions differed
as to the result, but that some thought _Koenigsberg_ had finally
been destroyed is apparent from the character of the Rear-Admiral’s
message to the Admiralty. Reflection, however, appears to have made
it clear that _Koenigsberg_ was very far indeed from being really
out of action, and it became necessary to inquire why there should
have been any uncertainty in the matter. The crux of the position
was this. Fire had opened at seven in the morning and continued till
nearly half-past four in the afternoon. But when the character of the
messages transmitted by the observers came under critical examination,
it seemed almost certain that no hits were made at all after the first
hour. Every kind of explanation for so indecisive and disappointing a
result was examined. It was disappointing because it had been shown
that it was quite practical to make hits, and it seemed as if there
must be something wrong if the hitting could not be continued. Every
possible cause of breakdown was put under examination. Had there been
anything wrong with the wireless transmitters in the aeroplanes? Had
the receiving gear in the monitors broken down? Were the observers
too inexperienced, hasty, or unreliable? Had the guns become worn
or too hot? Were the sights at fault? But when it came to the point
each of these criticisms broke down. There was no reason to distrust
the observers, and as all the ships in the offing had received the
messages, the transmitting gear must have been above suspicion. Then
the monitors’ records tallied with the ships’ records, so that there
was nothing wrong with the receivers. When the observers themselves
were put through their paces, it seemed that over an area of at least
half a mile, say 600 yards short of the target and 200 over, there
was really no possibility of making mistakes about where the shots
fell, for in this area it was all either open water or dry sand. But
outside of this comparatively narrow area there was thick bush, and
to an observer at the height of between 3,000 and 4,000 feet even a
bursting shell falling in a forest whose trees ran from between 70
to 150 feet high, affords a very uncertain mark. And after 8 P.M. it
seemed that only very few shells fell in the belt where their impact
was visible, and that sometimes, for very considerable periods, every
shot seemed to go into the forest. Could the guns have suddenly become
absolutely unreliable? But tests were made, and the guns proved to be
quite as accurate as they were before the firing began, and indeed the
exactitude of the results precluded this form of error from explaining
the failure to complete the business.
At last, when the firing times of the two ships were compared with
the observers’ records of the pitching of the shell, the true
explanation leapt into sight. The whole show had broken down over
the old difficulty of the identification of shots. The people in the
aeroplanes could not tell whether a particular shot had been fired
by _Mersey_ or _Severn_, and as both ships got the message, neither
could tell whose shot had been observed. It followed therefore that
the consequent correction was often put on to the wrong gun. Thus, for
example, suppose _Mersey_ had fired a shot 300 yards over the target
that fell in bush and was invisible to the observers, while _Severn_
had fired one that was 200 yards short and visible. The observers
would wireless 200 short, whereupon the _Mersey_ would think that this
message was intended for her, and raise her sight by this amount.
Her next round, of course, would go still farther into the bush, and
suppose this was visible or partially visible to the observer, who
might perhaps have missed _Severn’s_ next round, he might telegraph
back 500 or 600 over, a correction that _Severn_ might take to herself,
and lose her next shot in the bush short of the target. The men on
the Rufigi in short discovered for themselves, by their experiences
on this first arduous day against the _Koenigsberg_, that the problem
of correcting the fire of two separated batteries by the work of a
single observer is so exceedingly difficult of solution as to make
it hardly worth attempting. The lessons so painfully brought home
were put to immediate and most successful use. It was resolved on the
second attempt that only one monitor should fire at a time. This was
not of course the only experience of value obtained in the first day’s
operation for when all the results were collated and compared, a pretty
exact knowledge of the actual range from the chosen anchorage to the
target was obtained, so that on the second day there were fewer initial
rounds lost before shell began to fall in the immediate surroundings
of the enemy, where the position of each could be verified. When all
ambiguity as to the meaning of corrections was removed, the process of
finding the target and keeping the range became exceedingly simple.
As will be seen from the narrative, the serious work of the second day
began when _Severn_ opened fire about half-past twelve. Nine minutes
later, after quite deliberate fire, she obtained her first hit, and
from then on continued hitting with great regularity. But before she
had been firing ten minutes the spotting aeroplane was disabled and
came down. Though the _Koenigsberg_ herself was invisible, the columns
of lyddite fumes and smoke sent up by the hits could be seen over
the trees, and such columns indicated that hits were being made very
frequently. Within a quarter of an hour of the first hit, _Koenigsberg_
ceased her return fire, and shortly after this a huge volume of smoke
of a totally different colour from that sent up by lyddite indicated
that there had been a great explosion in the ship. When the second
aeroplane came out to resume the work of spotting, _Mersey_ took up
the work of firing in _Severn’s_ place. _Severn_ had ceased fire at
1:35 and _Mersey_ opened at a quarter past two. But it soon became
clear that it was unnecessary for her to proceed with the work, and
that with the explosion at 1:15 the business of the _Koenigsberg_ was
finished.
What two ships firing continuously for eight hours on July 6th had
failed to achieve, a single ship had accomplished in probably fifteen
minutes. It was the most perfect exemplification imaginable of the
difference in results that wrong and right systems of gunnery produce.
The skill shown on the second day was no better than on the first. It
was a change of method that made the difference.
What is of special interest is this. Up to the year 1909 it appeared
quite premature to discuss methods of concentrating the fire of
several ships on a single distant target, until right methods had
been discovered for making sure of hitting it with the guns of a
single ship. But by the winter of 1909 there seemed to be sufficient
experience to show that a complete solution of the simpler problem was
assured, and that the time had come for considering how two or more
ships could combine their armament. The difficulty of the matter was
soon made obvious. While great guns do not all shoot exactly alike, it
is possible to ascertain by experiment the individual differences of
all the guns in a single ship, and to vary the sight scales so that,
at all critical ranges, they should give identical results. But what
can be done for a single battery of eight or ten guns cannot be done by
experiment for two units of such batteries. If then two ships are to
be employed at the same target, it was the very essence of the matter
if two processes were carried on simultaneously to obtain one result,
that each process should be so organized as to run as if the other were
not going at all. Now ships’ guns at sea can be corrected only from
positions high up in the masts. It therefore became clear that if
the firing ship allowed a fixed interval, say three or four seconds,
to elapse after a sister ship had fired, before sending her own salvo
at the enemy, it would be quite easy, by keeping a record of the time
of flight of the projectiles, to pick out her own amongst the salvoes
falling in rapid succession on the target, so that there should be no
possibility of her mixing up her own shells with her neighbours’. It is
now many years since it was suggested that gongs driven by a clockwork
device, which could be set to the time of flight, would simplify this
method of identification. Suppose the time of flight to be twelve
seconds, the gong would be set to this interval and the clockwork
started into motion simultaneously with the firing of the salvo. The
observers watch the target and pay no attention to any shots that fall,
except those whose incidence coincided with the ringing of the gong.
The essence of this system was the ear-marking, so to speak, of each
separate salvo as it went away. But it was manifestly not a principle
on which observers placed at a distance from a ship could work. If they
were to do their work they must employ some totally different means of
identification. Else indirect firing could only be carried on by one
ship at a time.
My correspondence in 1909 and 1910 shows that these principles were
fully grasped by many gunnery officers in the navy in these years.
And I must confess I was extremely astonished when our proceedings at
the Dardanelles in March and February and April showed that there was
no common practice in the matter throughout the navy. At last, in the
month of May 1915, I set out these elementary principia of indirect
firing in _Land and Water_. “The difficulty in correcting the fire
of a multitude of ships is, it may be added, twofold, because each
salvo must be identified as coming from a particular ship, and then
that ship be informed of the correction. There is apparently no escape
from the necessity of having a separate spotter for each ship. If the
spotter is in an independent position, the obstacles in the way of this
double task are considerable. And aeroplanes are not a satisfactory
substitute. _At best an aeroplane can help one ship only._” It will be
observed that in July the officers at the Rufigi had to work them all
out again for themselves!
Nothing could better illustrate the curious individualism which governs
the organization of our sea forces. Each ship, each squadron, each
fleet seems to come to the study of these things as if they were virgin
problems, entirely unaided by advice or information from the central
authorities, so that there is not only no uniformity of practice--in
itself a not unmitigated evil--but what is really serious, a total
absence of uniformity of knowledge. I am the last person in the world
to suggest that all naval affairs should be regulated in every petty
detail from Whitehall. There are quite enough forces at work to repress
freedom of thought or restrict liberty to investigate and experiment
in the fullest possible way. But there is surely the widest possible
difference between a restraining tyranny and an intelligent system of
communicating proved principles and the results of successful practice.