Engine Building Company, Newport News, Va., as freight liners
for the Southern Pacific Steamship Company (Morgan Line).
Length 405 feet, beam 48 feet, draft 20 feet, displacement 7000
tons; single screw, 15 knots; one 5-inch 51-caliber gun aft,
two 3-inch anti-aircraft guns forward; 830 mines normally, 900
maximum, carried on three decks; officers 21, crew 400; total
421.
_Quinnebaug_—Commander D. Pratt Mannix, U.S.N.
Launched October 14, 1898, named _Jefferson_; commissioned
as minelayer March 23, 1918, at Robins’ Dry Dock and Repair
Company, Brooklyn, N.Y.
_Saranac_—Captain Sinclair Gannon, U.S.N.
Launched in 1899, named _Hamilton_; commissioned April 9, 1918,
at James Shewan & Sons, Inc., Brooklyn.
Both were built by John Roach & Sons, Chester, Pa., as
coastwise passenger and freight liners for the Old Dominion
Steamship Company; length 375 feet, beam 42 feet, draft 18½
feet, displacement 5150 tons; single screw, 16 knots; one
5-inch 51-caliber gun aft, two 3-inch anti-aircraft guns
forward; mines 612 normally, 642 maximum, carried on two decks;
officers 18, crew 392; total 410.
_Shawmut_—Captain W. T. Cluverius, U.S.N.
_Aroostook_—Captain J. Harvey Tomb, U.S.N.
Both vessels were launched in 1907 at Cramp’s Shipyard,
Philadelphia, named _Massachusetts_ and _Bunker Hill_
respectively; commissioned as minelayers at Navy Yard, Boston,
Mass., December 7, 1917; length 387 feet, beam 52 feet, draft
17½ feet, displacement 3800 tons; twin screw, oil fuel, 20
knots; one 5-inch 51-caliber and one 3-inch anti-aircraft gun
on the middle line aft, one 3-inch anti-aircraft gun forward;
320 mines normally, 352 maximum, all carried on one deck;
officers 20, crew 346; total 366.
_Totals of Squadron_:
Tonnage, 54,000 tons.
Mines, normal 5530, maximum 5834.
Officers 208, men 3839; total 4047.
In addition, four seagoing tugs belonged to the squadron, as
described in Chapter 22.
CHAPTER NINE
ATHLETICS
A shortage of some mine parts that had encountered difficulty in
manufacture now delayed the preparation for a second excursion, and the
respite came opportunely, for we had been driving hard for some time.
Though the minelayers were comfortable enough to live in when empty, it
was quite different with mines on board. Then only a few of the men could
swing their hammocks, the others having to lie on the decks. Crowding
the mess tables together, horns and sharp corners ever ready to tear the
clothes, mines were constantly at one’s elbow, and everywhere were mine
tracks, half-knee high, or turntables, to trip the unwary or bark his
shin. No smoking was allowed below decks, and the space above decks was
very limited for crews so numerous. The men made no complaint—such men
will not complain of discomfort which seems temporary and unavoidable,
when incident to an undertaking that interests them—but since the
discomfort could not be alleviated but, on the contrary, would increase
with the frequency of excursions and with inclement weather, sufficient
diversion was imperative to maintain the fine, cheerful spirit which had
characterized the work so far.
Let the report on squadron athletics, written at the end of September by
Ensign Walter P. Hanson, U.S.N.R.F., editor of our _Athletic Bulletin_,
tell what was done, in true sporting page style:
The situation was new, practically unparalleled, and called for
immediate action. With the exception of the _San Francisco_ and
_Baltimore_, none of the ships had the traditional atmosphere
of a man-of-war, so essential to the building up of _esprit
de corps_. It was a new squadron, manned largely by new men,
performing a new operation in strange waters. Something was
needed to weld this war-sprouted organization into a solid,
indissoluble unit, to build up ship spirit and a high squadron
spirit, recalling old traditions and laying the foundation for
new ones, to fire the men’s enthusiasm to a pitch that would
insure the success of the gigantic operation in hand and spell
defeat for the German submarine forces.
There were other just as important reasons why an athletic
organization was necessary. Minelaying in contested waters is
not the easiest nor the least dangerous of duties. To eat,
sleep and work in close proximity to tons of the deadliest
explosive known, and then to cruise day and night in submarine
infested waters with this same explosive for cargo—knowing that
one well-aimed torpedo, a well-placed mine, or a few enemy
shells, would wipe out an entire ship’s company, and possibly
the whole squadron—is not exactly the sort of recreation a
worn-out business man would seek as a cure for “nerves.” And
blue-jackets, despite a common fallacy in America, are no more
than human. Numerous mining excursions, with no intervening
periods of recreation, were bound to tell on the men.
Relaxation and amusement they would get in one form or another.
Where were they to turn for it? To the theaters and amusement
centers of two Scotch, war-stricken villages? They were almost
a myth and couldn’t hold a man-sized blue-jacket’s attention
for half an hour a week. What then—the Y.M.C.A.? Yes, to some
extent, but even those faithful workers couldn’t solve the
problem. Active amusement the men wanted, excitement, thrills,
anything to take their minds off their work for a few hours
several times a week when they went ashore.
Obviously there was but one answer to the question and that was
the healthful recreation of organized, competitive athletics.
Athletics of all sorts and forms, teams organized on each
ship, and an officially recognized and governed organization
to direct the activities of the entire squadron. Spirited
competition and clean sportsmanship was to be the keynote of
the movement, with one directing head, under the supervision of
the Squadron Commander.
The official “season” was formally opened on July 4, at both
bases, with eight teams competing. The initial success was most
gratifying. The spirit shown by the townspeople gave the day
all the ear-marks of a regular league opening in the states.
The games were closely contested and the players, cheered on by
the rooting of hundreds of loyal “fans,” displayed an excellent
brand of ball. Business houses had declared a holiday in honor
of our Independence Day and apparently the natives decided to
attend the festivities in a body, for at Inverness more than
three thousand of them were present, eagerly attempting to
learn the intricacies of the game.
From then on, the success of athletics in the squadron was
assured. When the ships were in port and the weather permitted,
not a day passed without one or more games played. Each team
was loyally supported by its own ship’s company, even the
officers forgetting their dignity long enough to root long
and loudly. In these demonstrations the men were moderate,
considerate of the neighbors, realizing that local custom did
not favor such noise, though indulged now with perfect good
humor, since we appeared to need it.
Athletic activities were not confined to baseball. Boat-racing,
track, tug-of-war teams, boxing and wrestling, were all taken
up and encouraged. On July 4, the entire morning was given
over to boat racing. Excellent time was made over the mile
course and good seamanlike qualities were displayed. The
afternoon track events developed into a spirited contest, in
which the marks made would have done justice to any first-class
American university. Again on Labor Day a similar athletic meet
was arranged and once more the same measure of success was
attained, thousands of townspeople in attendance.
Boxing and wrestling were taken up by the individual ships and,
generally speaking, one evening each week was given over to
“happy hours,” for bouts in the ring and on the mat. Ambitious
youngsters would send forth bristling challenges, which were
immediately snapped up by rivals in other ships and the
resulting encounter was the equivalent—seldom bloodless—of a
naval engagement in building up _esprit de corps_.
Excellent golf courses and tennis courts lay convenient to both
bases, and many a day the Squadron Commander returned from the
Nigg links with 18 officers crowding the barge. The squadron
surgeon, Dr. Rhoades, secured many recruits for the ancient and
honorable game, with the result that upward of 50 officers out
of 200 entered the tournament played in September.
From the start the good effect on the men was noticeable. A
consistently winning baseball team made that ship’s company
the envy of all others, and fostered a spirit that could not
confine itself to athletics alone but was injected into drills,
mining excursions and all forms of ship’s work. Indeed, it
would not be overshooting the mark to state that the success of
the operation as a whole was due in large part to the spirit
of enthusiasm aroused among the men by organized competitive
athletics.
The men and officers were benefited from a mental and moral,
as well as physical, standpoint. They had something really
interesting to go to see on shore and to talk about on
returning aboard. Their minds were taken absolutely away from
war while the games were in progress, their nerves relaxed
and the tension removed. Their activities were directed into
healthful channels, whereas, thrown upon their own resources,
they might have sought amusement in some harmful form.
Not only did athletics benefit the men, it also played its part
from an international aspect, especially baseball. Essentially
an American sport, it typifies everything American—rapid
thinking, quickness of action, and purely American
individualism, coupled with the keenest alertness in teamwork.
These traits the British admire in the “Yanks.” At any of
our baseball games, hundreds of British soldiers and sailors
could always be seen, wearing broad grins of appreciation and
admiration of the cleverness of their comrades in arms. So much
were they taken up with the sport that on some British ships
they began to organize baseball teams, with the hope in the
near future to compete with their American cousins. And the
small boys in the towns were quick to take up playing ball with
a stick and an old string ball. All this helped in creating a
spirit of coöperation and good feeling between the British and
the Americans, so important to both present and future common
aims.
[Illustration: ARRANGEMENT OF MINE TRACKS, ELEVATORS, AND TURNTABLES, IN
“ROANOKE” CLASS OF MINELAYERS.]
CHAPTER TEN
THE SQUADRON COMPLETE
After a conference with the commanding officers with the various
incidents of the first excursion fresh in mind, revised instructions
applying equally to every excursion were drawn up, to be supplemented by
the particulars for each successive occasion issued at the appropriate
time. The term excursion met with ready adoption, for its cheerful
suggestion of a return—weary no doubt, but content.
A navigation memorandum of the intended courses, speeds, and principal
incidents, for the information of the escort leader and each ship,
accompanied the excursion order. An excellent understanding, as well as
good feeling, grew up between the squadron and its escort. The escort
commander would often dine on board the _San Francisco_ and discuss the
coming excursion and the two bodies soon came to move as one, changing
course, night or day, or changing formation, frequently with only a
whistle blast—a whole excursion sometimes without any tactical signal at
all between the two bodies, except for some unforeseen change of course
or speed.
Preparations had begun at once for the second excursion to continue the
first minefield, but change had become necessary, and a line across Area
C was ordered—not, however, until _Roanoke_ had been loaded with 830
mines of an adjustment not suited to the changed plan, and these remained
on board 33 days, the crew living around, but keeping up cleanliness
and order the same as usual. So long a period fully loaded had not been
contemplated, but it showed one more thing these vessels could do when
well manned and commanded.
As before, assembly was at night 30 June, and Udsire the point of final
departure. The supporting force was the 6th Battle Squadron of five
American battleships under Rear Admiral Hugh Rodman, U.S.N. Needless to
say, every one came on deck to see our handsome battle squadron, as it
filed out past Pentland Skerries and formed line, disappearing to the
southeastward. Twice during the afternoon submarine periscopes were seen
by the battleships and their destroyer screen, which opened fire and
dropped depth bombs, but without known effect.
Considerable current was found near the Norwegian coast, but visibility
was good until we passed to the northward of Udsire; then it became
increasingly hazy. The run of the flagship, guiding, was accurately
determined notwithstanding, by other marks to the northward before they
too became indistinct. At 4.26 a.m., minelaying began—great care taken
not to lay any mines inside Norwegian waters, yet to begin just outside
them. Despite the unexpected strong current at the critical moment, the
first mines were dropped within 250 yards of the intended spot, just
outside the three-mile limit.
Overcast sky prevented obtaining good observations to check the run
during the minelaying, and as there was no check on latitude and the
current was variable, the course was changed slightly for the last third
of the run, to be sure of clearing our first field, towards which we were
heading. This accounts for the bend in that line on the chart. We were
crossing the 150-fathom deep water which skirts the Norway coast, three
large ships, _Canonicus_, _Canandaigua_, and _Housatonic_, led by _San
Francisco_, laying 2200 mines in two rows on a line 46 miles long. In
spite of repeated breaking of the distance-measuring taut wire, the speed
over ground was estimated closely enough to end the line within one-half
mile of the point intended, which was correct within 1 per cent.
There were again no casualties and all the mines were planted. Two ships
planted 710 each in continuous strings, fully establishing the success of
the mining installations. There was no longer any doubt of the ability of
one of these ships to plant her entire load of 860 mines without break.
All vessels returned to base ready for further duty.
The explosions of defective mines on this excursion amounted to between 4
and 5 per cent, and reports received from British trawlers watching the
first minefield indicated that enough more had gone off in that field
since the first day, to bring the total there up to between 5 and 6 per
cent. Despite all remedy, these explosions increased in number up to
the 5th excursion. Then the cause was found to be due not to unskilful,
negligent, or otherwise faulty procedure in either the ships or the
bases, but to lie partly in supersensitiveness in the mines’ adjustment,
partly in imperfection in manufacture—inevitable in such large numbers
made under prevailing industrial conditions, especially of a new design.
On June 29, just before departure on the second excursion, the minelayers
_Shawmut_, Captain W. T. Cluverius, _Aroostook_, Commander J. H. Tomb,
and _Saranac_, Commander Sinclair Gannon, and the repair ship _Black
Hawk_, Captain R. C. Bulmer, had arrived from the United States.
Uncompleted work had not delayed them like the others, but the trial runs
of the _Shawmut_ and _Aroostook_ showed their fuel consumption to be much
larger than had been estimated—no data having been available when their
conversion was planned—making their fuel capacity insufficient for the
passage over. Indefinite delay, until a tanker could accompany them, was
averted by the captains hunting up enough oil hose to fuel the ships at
sea. Their departure on June 16 took place during the German submarines’
activity on the New England coast—not a favorable condition for ships
just out of a navy yard. Twice during the crossing, the _Black Hawk_
took the _Shawmut_ and _Aroostook_ in tow, to give them fuel oil. Though
a new operation to all hands—likewise new ships, new crews, half a gale
of wind, and oil hose twice as heavy as proper—it was done well, without
mishap, and all four arrived at our bases ready for service.
The third excursion could therefore be made by the full squadron of
ten. It was to continue the first minefield, and as some of our mark
buoys were known to have broken adrift—we had passed two on the second
excursion—the flagship’s navigator, Lieut. Commander Cunningham, was sent
out in the squadron tugs _Patuxent_ and _Patapsco_, to verify what might
remain of the buoyfield. Finding half the buoys in place, he planted
two new ones as a precaution. Then he passed along both our minefields,
listening for further explosions, but heard none. The necessary
improvement in the buoy moorings was now made, so effectively that they
could be counted on thereafter. Each ship carried four buoys on her
quarters, ready to drop on the instant. One stroke of an axe, or pull on
a slip would release a buoy and its 1000-lb. sinker together, the mooring
wire cable being so looped up around the buoy as to pay out clear. Thus
the ship had no need to reduce speed nor any fear of getting her screw
foul of the buoy.
Embarking mines for the third excursion had already begun when a message
came that no mines were to be placed west of zero longitude for the
present, a restriction that shortened the intended line by 30 miles,
quite upsetting the embarking arrangements then in progress.
Meantime, the original plan had, in London, undergone considerable
modification as to the constitution of the barrage. Originally of three
systems, each comprising three lines of mines—upper, middle, and lower
levels—the necessity which had developed for wider spacing between
mines, to avoid structural damage to neighboring mines when one was
detonated—300 feet instead of 150, as originally planned—made it seem
desirable to increase the number of lines of mines, so as to maintain
the same density of the mine barrage as a whole. The revision aimed to
increase the risk to surface passage considerably. No effective patrol
being maintained along the barrage, submarines would naturally prefer the
surface. The revised plan, in brief, made 10 upper level rows instead of
3, and 4 middle and 4 lower level, instead of 3 each, or a total of 18
rows instead of 9.
Rather than shorten our line and again employ only part of the squadron,
the Commander of the Mine Force took up the revised scheme at once,
ordering 5400 mines prepared, for a field of 5 parallel lines 54 miles
long. All 10 ships were loaded nearly to full capacity, _Housatonic_
taking 840 mines. Departure was taken at 2 p.m., Sunday 14 July, hauling
down, as we got underway, the dress bunting which had been hoisted in
honor of the French Bastille Day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TACTICS
Ten ships laden with high explosive, navigating in mine-swept channels,
in submarine thoroughfares, and near minefields beyond sight of fixed
marks—compactness of the minefield demanding that the layers steam as
near together as safe—necessity for keeping together in fog, darkness, or
submarine attack—these were the conditions governing our tactics.
Thus, the mining excursions were not merely arduous in preparation
and execution. Precision and quickness of action while at sea were
imperative, from start to finish. To foster these, a steady tension
was kept up throughout the squadron, a tension which likewise helped
the individual ships to maintain a careful habit among the men,
without making them jumpy or fearful. To sustain attention and prevent
over-confidence growing with familiarity, unremitting pains were
exercised to note and correct any irregularity or apparent slackness—not
to find fault but to keep things taut everywhere. Only in this way could
compliance with all details be insured—so very important in our work.
From assembly at the buoy until the return to it after the excursion,
the _San Francisco_, leading the squadron, would maintain a steady
pace, sometimes increasing to make up for adverse current, but rarely
slackening speed for anything. The squadron’s position was frequently
compared with the time schedule, and no effort was spared to carry
through the excursion with precision. There was time enough, we had speed
enough, but none too much of either, and the whole body felt a constant
urge towards a direct and clean-cut movement out to the field, over it,
and back to the base.
Stretched in two mile-long columns while in mine-searched waters, which
were comparatively narrow, the formation would widen and shorten upon
reaching the 50-fathom line, so as to diminish the depth of the target
offered to a submarine. Approaching the mine start point, the vessels
would take the relative positions which they would occupy when the
mining was begun—not too soon, because such a formation was unwieldy,
and if maneuvering into position involved much turning, the formation
would become disordered. The 10 vessels were of 5 different types, with
different handling qualities and having very small speed reserve with
which to regain lost position. On the other hand, the change had to be
made early enough for all vessels to get settled in station, at standard
speed, before the minelaying began.
As the planting progressed, we had to make use of large, lighted,
navigation buoys, planted in the open sea, obviously for our use.
The British had warned us, from their own experience, of the enemy’s
habit of moving all such buoys whenever seen, or planting mines near
them—sometimes doing both. Working far away from the nearest landmark, we
would pass close to these buoys in order to determine the position of the
mine start point accurately. Against enemy mines which might be around
the buoys, our paravanes were counted upon for protection, but here came
in a complication. While paravanes would protect against ordinary mines,
they actually increased the risk from any of our own mines which they
might touch. To keep the paravanes out until after clearing the buoy,
then take them in before approaching one of our fields, would have been
simple enough, but for the necessity of maintaining steady speed and
course from the buoy to the mining start point, which precluded slowing
down to take the paravanes in. Since the risk could be measured from our
own mines but not from the enemy’s, the paravanes were always kept in use.
Pressure of time and division of the ships between two bases while in
port limited the tactical training of the squadron to what could be done
while crossing the Atlantic and while going to and from the minefields.
The special equipment to facilitate accurate station keeping which is
usually found in men-of-war was lacking in these ex-merchant vessels.
They had comparatively small rudders, and the nice regulation of steam to
the engines, necessary for steady steaming in company, was very difficult
with their deficient means for that purpose. Moreover, on the first
excursion by the complete squadron of 10 vessels, 4 of them took part for
the first time. The excellent performance of the squadron as a whole was
all the more remarkable.
Passing through the mark buoys, which the sloop H.M.S. _Laburnum_ pointed
out, the squadron, formed in three lines abreast, stood on beyond,
to allow distance in which to steady down on the reverse course, then
turned ships 90 degrees right together, by divisions in succession. This
evolution formed the squadron in a single column which steered about
SSW, until within two miles of the previous minefield. Two of the 10
vessels were on the right flank, so that a second, simultaneous turn,
ships right, brought the squadron into the planting formation, consisting
of a line of 8 ships abreast, stretching a mile and three-quarters, the
remaining two in an advance line, 500 yards ahead, with three miles still
to go, allowing 15 minutes time in which to settle down, before the order
to begin planting. The execution of the operation was seamanlike to a
degree, and the alignment, distance keeping, and handling of the vessels,
in approaching and on the planting line, were excellent throughout.
[Illustration: THE SQUADRON IN MINELAYING FORMATION.