It would have widened the field unnecessarily to dispose all 10 ships
abreast. The advanced ships would ease back into the main line as soon
as two of the 8 ships directly astern had finished their minelaying and
speeded ahead, leaving vacancies. Ample time was allowed to do this
slowly, before their time came to plant, so as to avoid the extra demand
on their engines which might be caused by dropping back too fast. The
ships were neither new nor decrepit, but there was no excuse for taking
unnecessary chances of spoiling a good performance by the squadron as a
whole. Steady steaming and steering were important for safety—as well as
for regularity of the mine-spacing. God help a ship whose engine broke
down or rudder jammed during the minelaying! With a strong head wind, she
would drift into the minefield, before even a destroyer could tow her
clear. It was partly for such an emergency that the sweepers originally
included with our force were wanted—powerful, handy, seagoing tugs, able
to assist in any circumstances. The tugs that we had were not fast enough
to keep up with the squadron. Fortunately, engine or steering disablement
never occurred during planting, but two did occur just afterward, and
once, in Fair Island Channel, on the way to plant, a ship had to stop for
a disabled feed pump. It was 11 o’clock at night, pitch dark, with the
tide turning strong towards the 9th minefield, and in the submarines’
thoroughfare. As I slowed the squadron and waited for report of the
probable length of delay, I felt what a reliance a good tender would have
been!
The support force on the third excursion, the 4th Battle Squadron, came
close enough to observe the minelaying, steaming along parallel, four
miles distant, for an hour. Its commander, in H.M.S. _Hercules_, was
Vice Admiral Sir Montague E. Browning, who, with the French Rear Admiral
Grasset, had come from Bermuda in the earliest days of our entering the
war, to attend the first conference on our naval participation, and as
their flagships, H.M.S. _Leviathan_ and the _Jeanne d’Arc_, stood in to
Hampton Roads, the _San Francisco_ had been the vessel to salute their
flags. Now, in the same ship, it was a pleasure to lead a large, new mine
squadron, performing so creditably before such an observer, the more
so as Admiral Browning had sent a special message of welcome upon our
arrival from America.
After this excursion was over and all the reports were in from the
several ships, showing that all mines had been planted, with no mishaps
of any kind, and that the vessels were ready to undertake another
excursion, the following signal was sent:
The squadron commander extends sincere congratulations upon the
completion of to-day’s mining operation by the whole squadron.
It was a handsome performance that would have done credit to
a squadron of long experience. The squadron commander, the
captains, the officers, and every man may rightly feel deep
pride in having earned a success worthy of our navy’s best
traditions. 7.45 p.m., 15 July, 1918.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SOME INCIDENTS
By consensus of opinion, the limit of safe approach to a minefield in
the open sea was five miles. Where appreciable current exists, a heavy
sea may cause mines to step along, or “migrate”—there is no telling
how far—and the danger from mines adrift is naturally greater near a
minefield than elsewhere. Mines are designed to become safe on breaking
adrift and many of them are, but far from all. Submergence in salt water
may derange the mechanism for that safety purpose. There was very little
current across Area A, however, and the fine tactical qualities shown
by the squadron lent confidence that it could be safely conducted much
nearer to our minefields than five miles. Since the barrage plan had been
revised, this closer approach had become necessary, if we were to get
the whole barrage in between the southernmost line, already laid, and
the northern limit, which had been publicly proclaimed. There was some
aversion to proclaiming a new limit and we had no mind to say it was
necessary. So, instead of lapping the ends of adjacent minefields, the
practice was adopted of “butting” the new field close to the end of its
neighbor, thus continuing the same line with only a small gap between
adjacent ends.
Our first news of damage inflicted on the enemy came in mid-July, soon
after the second excursion, though the barrier was then hardly more than
begun. The information was authentic but not very circumstantial—the
standing policy was against that. Four submarines were mentioned. One of
them lost nearly all her fuel and called by wireless for help, so loudly
that it was overheard and a British force was sent out to capture or
destroy her—but too late. Another German submarine had come to her aid,
and the two got safely back. Further details are lacking.
The third excursion, together with the British minefields in Area C,
completed the equivalent of one system, extending from the Norway coast
as far west as 0 degrees longitude. The prohibition against laying any
mines farther westward than that was still in force—although the enemy
submarines had changed their route so as to pass clear to the westward
of the partial barrier. So our fourth excursion began a second “system,”
parallel to and five miles distant from the first.
Leaving the bases during the night of 28 July, and taking final departure
from Buoy No. 2, which marked the north end of the division between
Areas A and C, we ran south, clearing the ends of three British deep
minefields by three miles—quite safe to do if they were all in their
intended places. Then, by an “isodromic” maneuver—not easy and little
favored, on account of the precision that is requisite, but necessary on
this occasion—our three columns, with _San Francisco_ making a fourth on
the left, formed a single line to the right, of eight ships, with two
more in an advanced line, all steering about WSW. Being on the outside
of the turn, the old _San Francisco_ had to spring from 12 to 16½ knots
within a few minutes, to gain her station on the southern flank in time,
but no parade ground evolution could have been done more smoothly, and
the quickness with which all ships steadied into accurate distance and
bearing showed that, in future, the steadying interval could be safely
reduced. Originally a half hour, it was cut down to 75 seconds.
Commander Moir, a new escort leader, in H.M.S. _Valhalla_, smiled
slightly as he read over the mining order for the first time and I asked
whether it were about this isodromic movement. He replied, No; he was
wondering how they could execute one of the intermediate changes which
the order prescribed to be made en route, to sort the ships out from the
assembling order to the arrangement which they would be in preparatory to
swinging into minelaying formation. It did look mixed at first glance,
there was no denying, but I said, “Watch them do it, the Rules of the
Road will govern”—and when the time came, I felt quite willing for any
one to be a witness.
[Illustration: APPROACHING AND LAYING THE FOURTH MINE FIELD.
Excursion 4: Formations Before, During, and After Planting.]
At the end of a minefield, the wing and the center ships simultaneously
would drop mark buoys, 250 yards from the last mines, and again one mile
farther on, making in all six buoys in two lines. When we came back after
10 days or so, to continue that field, a destroyer would go well ahead,
to sight and stand by the outermost buoy, and the flagship would lead for
it, but not steer towards the minefield side of it until the inner line
of buoys had been sighted—those which were only 250 yards from the mines.
The outer buoys were regarded with suspicion until some of the inner ones
were seen to be in place. It was then deemed safe to lead between the two
lines of buoys, for as long as there were any between the ships and the
minefield, ships would be at least 250 yards clear. Passing in column
midway between the lines of buoys to make the start, and allowing for the
simultaneous turn into line abreast, the squadron could begin mining by
the time the outer buoys were passed, thus leaving a gap of but little
more than a mile between the mines in the old field and those in its
continuation.
An early care while fitting out had been to organize and train a good
lookout service. This duty is a severe tax on the men, and when, time
after time, they see nothing suspicious, they tend to relax. Fearing
this, as we had yet seen no submarines, barring an alarm on the first
excursion, a special warning to lookouts was issued, which, fortunately
was well supported on our next trip. A beautiful, peaceful evening off
the Orkneys was rudely interrupted by messages from three different
sources within the space of a minute, reporting a submarine estimated to
be a half-hour ahead of us, outbound, making for Fair Island Channel.
Taking no chances on its having innocent intentions towards us, Captain
Godfrey turned his flank destroyers outward and bang! bang! went four
depth charges, and four more on the other side—just to let the sub know
he might except a hearty reception. The _Aroostook’s_ siren then shrieked
for “torpedo to starboard!” the ship charging ahead across another’s
bows, and the _Housatonic’s_ steering chain took that occasion to break.
Serenity was gone, for a time at least, but being in a swept channel,
there was small choice for maneuvering. All we could do was to shorten
up our formation before dark shut in and trust to our escort and a good
lookout.
In the event of a submarine appearing, our rôle was to make off, leaving
the attack to the destroyers and being careful not to harm them by
our own fire. The escort was prepared to engage its own kind, as well
as submarines, and even to make a sacrifice attack on light cruisers,
to assist our escape under cover of a smoke screen, but our moderate
speed—15 knots at best when keeping together—and the small number and
caliber of our guns, made us rather helpless against an enemy cruiser’s
long-range, 6-inch gunfire and high speed.
Upon returning from an Allied conference in Malta on mining the
Mediterranean, Rear Admiral Strauss came out with the squadron, on the
seventh excursion, 26 August, hoisting his flag in the _San Francisco_.
This was the first time our program was interfered with by fog, which
shut in thick soon after assembly. Incidentally, our tug _Patuxent_,
going out ahead with her sister _Patapsco_ to observe, found herself in
the midst of a large convoy from Norway that night and had a collision,
which fortunately was not serious to either vessel.
After four hours’ delay by fog, we made our departure buoy and steered
for the end of the 5th minefield, 13 miles distant. Fog shut in again
when we were half way, but fortunately lifted just before we should have
had to turn back, and minelaying began, although the weather was still
far from settled. Twice during the schedule, dense fog enveloped us, but
the planting went on without interruption. It was rather ghostly to hear
and feel the explosions of the defective mines, yet see nothing—not even
the neighboring ship. Several times Admiral Strauss expressed admiration
for the steady alignment of the formation, and upon leaving the _San
Francisco_ when we had returned to port, he signalled, “The Commander
Mine Force congratulates Mine Squadron One on the seamanlike manner in
which the seventh excursion was accomplished by all ships.”
On this occasion, for the first and only time, one ship had to drop out
from an excursion, the _Saranac_ having a smash inside the cylinder of
her main circulating pump shortly after the squadron had assembled.
Temporary repairs being impossible soon enough, she returned to base.
The absence of her 580 mines left the 7th minefield incomplete, and to
make good the defect a special excursion was ordered for the _Shawmut_,
Captain Cluverius, and _Aroostook_, Captain Tomb, the two fast minelayers.
Met off Cromarty buoy at 6 a.m., 31 August, by Commander Lowry in H.M.S.
_Wrestler_, with three other destroyers, the detachment proceeded,
first at 15 then at 17 knots, by the usual route to the end buoys of
the seventh field, then close along the northern side of the field. The
_Baltimore_ had been on that flank, and after planting all her mines had
dropped a buoy and again, at about 9-mile intervals, two other buoys,
while steaming 500 yards abeam of the nearest planting vessel. A fresh
breeze was now blowing, making the buoys none too easy to pick up. Fog
had prevailed while the _Baltimore_ was dropping the buoys, making
uncertainty as to their position and also as to whether they were there
at all. Accordingly, the detachment first ran parallel to the minefield,
from 1000 to 2000 yards outside the line of buoys, so as to sight them
all; then it turned back and began planting, _Shawmut_ first. The mines
were laid in one line averaging 600 yards outside the line of buoys, or
about 1100 yards from the nearest line of mines, thus completing the
original field neatly without wasting space. The mining installations
of these fast ships worked as well at 17 knots as they had at 12, and
altogether the excursion gave the two a good try out. They were back
in their berths 26 hours after leaving them, in ample time to embark
their mines for the squadron’s next excursion, and with a record to
their credit for laying 580 mines on the closest parallel to a deep-sea
minefield that had ever been run.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SIGNALS
Signals had come well to the front in the course of the first excursions,
not only for tactics but also for assembling data quickly, so that a
fairly comprehensive report of the excursion might go to headquarters by
the first boat to shore after arrival. Spelling out messages by Morse or
semaphore proved too slow and inaccurate for reports from nine ships in
one afternoon, often in hazy weather, so a collection of phrases, and
questions to be answered by reference number, was established, to be
signaled by hoists of flags.
As we had expected to use the British signal system, a special training
class was formed at Newport in January, while the minelayers were fitting
out. In consequence, from first falling in with British destroyers, the
_San Francisco_ communicated easily, and British flags could be used on
the first excursion. But neither the British system nor our own was found
to suit our needs, and to combine British flags with American meanings
made a risk of misinterpretation at a critical time. So the American
flags were restored to use and the British ones discontinued, except
a few retained by each ship for calls and other routine uses, while
the flagship kept a full set, for communicating with the escort by the
British code. A new system, embodying several of the British features,
was devised, mainly by Lieut. Commander E. S. R. Brandt, then flag
lieutenant, and was put into effect on the second excursion. The main
feature was that the meaning of tactical signals—those which required
immediate action, affecting the ships’ movements—was self-evident to
anyone who knew the names of the flags.
Flags and associations already familiar having been utilized, the
signalmen quickly learned. Separation among three anchorages prevented
signal practice by the squadron as a whole in port, but drills several
times daily at each anchorage and on the way out to the mining ground
enabled the new code to be used on the full squadron’s first trip. Great
interest was evident among the signal forces of all ships. Signals were
habitually hoisted only just long enough, as determined by experience,
for the average vessel to repeat the hoist. Competition became keen
not to be the cause of delay, and very soon the signaling attained
an accuracy, rapidity, and style comparing favorably with the best
performance of any type of vessel. Once or twice the _Quinnebaug_—whose
mast was not high—beat the flagship in getting her own signal up to the
yardarm. Less than a minute by day, and often only 30 seconds, would
suffice between giving an order for a tactical signal and beginning its
execution by the squadron—without a glance at a key book or card at
either end. Most efficient telephone service would hardly equal that.
The _Vampire_ soon picked up our new system, so that signals to her
could frequently be dispensed with. Upon one of ours going up, the
corresponding British signal on _Vampire_ would be seen in a few moments.
Accuracy of transmission and of record being very important where so
much was done by signal, these were stimulated by daily comparison of
the signal records of all ships. A “discrepancy” sheet was compiled, to
show the errors and omissions of each ship for the previous day, and
directly after each excursion, the signal officers would meet, to compare
the signal records of the trip. A further check was kept by a staff
officer being constantly on watch on board the _San Francisco_ when at
sea, taking notes upon incidents and errors in signals, station-keeping,
and the behavior of ships. The Recording Angel could not have been
more observant. I would edit the rough record at the end of a watch,
references to the pertinent instructions were entered, and a smooth
“Discrepancy Report” was sent to all ships at the end of the excursion,
as a reminder of their sins.
Had the signal officers been regulars and but one system of signals
been in use from the beginning, the high standard maintained would have
been commendable. The attainment of such a standard by inexperienced
personnel, adopting a new system on very short notice, was highly
creditable to all concerned. Especially should there be mention of Chief
Quartermaster William H. Kerins, of the _San Francisco_, and the other
chiefs, whose training and management of their signalmen and whose own
skill and fidelity made our quick and accurate communication possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE BARRIER ACROSS
The barrage began to show results early in July, after our second
excursion, although not yet half across. The enemy submarines changed
their route then, so as to go through Fair Island Channel, south instead
of north of the Shetlands. Thus they would pass west of the partial
barrage, through the 60-mile wide passage still open. The fact of Area A
having been proclaimed gave ample warning, and even the enemy could not
complain of being ambushed, if he sustained damage there. Advertising a
minefield two months in advance was certainly fair play. But now came the
mining of Area B, which would carry the barrier clear across the last
45 miles of the 230-mile stretch. This was not published, but the enemy
might have assumed that it would be done sooner or later.
A joint excursion by the two squadrons was arranged, Rear Admiral Strauss
commanding the whole, flying his flag on board _San Francisco_ again. The
squadrons joined off the middle Orkneys the morning of 7 September, and
began the minelaying a few miles to the northward, starting from a buoy
placed by H.M.S. _Laburnum_ and removed by her after we had passed. As
we were directly in the submarines’ thoroughfare, special patrols were
provided, surface and air, in Fair Island Channel and also well to the
southward of us. The American squadron planted six upper level lines, the
British squadron planted one similar line, after the completion of which
it separated to the southward, returning to its base at Grangemouth,
Firth of Forth. On the way, one of them had a collision in the fog with a
destroyer of its escort, which later sank in consequence.
Our squadron turned north at the end of our minefield, ran taut wire to
Buoy No. 5, thence paralleled the minefield at five miles distance for
observation of defective mine explosions, steering west to the Orkneys
and returning to the base on the reverse of the outbound courses. Fog
came on soon after mining was finished, continuing intermittently until
we made port. For this reason, _San Francisco_ did not cut her taut wire
at Buoy 5 but kept it running until the squadron slowed to take in
paravanes, near Cromarty—122 miles of wire run out, without a break.
The succeeding excursion was similar, with Rear Admiral L. Clinton-Baker,
R.N., in H.M.S. _Princess Margaret_, in command of the whole force, Rear
Admiral Strauss again on board _San Francisco_. On the way out, it was
not permitted to pass between the Orkneys and the western end of the
minefield planted just previously, but instead, the squadrons were routed
NW’ly, through Stronsay and Westray Firths, in the Orkneys, thence E’ly
through Fair Island Channel, and down to within five miles north of the
other minefield.
While standing through Stronsay Firth in a long, single column, the
British squadron, which was in the lead, opened fire on its starboard
quarter, its escorting destroyers gathering to drop bombs about a certain
spot. Upon signal from the _Princess Margaret_, the starboard wing
destroyers of our escort speeded ahead to join the attack, but the port
wing destroyers remained on station, although the leading squadron’s
destroyers had left theirs. In a few moments, a submarine broached about
1500 yards, two points on _San Francisco’s_ starboard bow, heading
across to port, through the column, between the two squadrons. Some
destroyers followed and continued bombing. Smoke screens were laid by
our escort (_Vampire_, Captain Godfrey, and 11 others of 14th Flotilla)
and by our own ships, which thus had a good test for their smoke
outfits. _Roanoke_ chanced to have a steering engine disablement just at
this moment, causing her to sheer out and shift to hand gear, and the
_Housatonic_ also had some steering trouble, but there was no mishap,
and the submarine also for the time escaped. By good luck, an official
photographer happened to be on board _San Francisco_, and he got some
pictures of genuine activity.
A delay at the morning rendezvous, the long distance round about, and
adverse current combined to make a late mining start. While the mining
was in progress, the bodies of two German sailors were passed, and a
heavy explosion was observed in the eighth minefield, five miles distant,
in a position that plotted in the same place a submarine would be which
had been reported shortly before.
Darkness shut in about an hour before planting was completed but it
caused no suspension nor interference. At the end of the field, buoys
were dropped as usual, and all ships together turned left, without
signal but on orders given before dark, to the course north, then formed
in two columns for the run home. The British and American squadrons had
now separated and they passed back through Westray Firth in succession
after daylight next morning. Off Pentland Skerries a suspicious craft
ahead caused another submarine alarm, and the escort again enveloped the
squadron in a smoke screen, but the alarm proved false.
This time, the 10 American vessels had planted six lines, two at each of
the usual levels, 46 miles long, 5520 mines in all, the maximum of any
excursion; the 4 British vessels planted one line at deep level, 1300
mines, 32 miles long, making altogether 6820 mines on the excursion, the
largest single minefield ever planted—done in 3 hours and 50 minutes.
Upon returning to the bases, Admiral Strauss signaled “The Commander Mine
Force congratulates the squadron on this biggest and most successful
excursion.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FINISHING THE BARRIER