The Naval Review

THE
N AVA L
REVIEW
cc
Think wisely. Plan boldly. Act swiftly."
THE OBJECT
THB NAVAL RBVIBW, by providing a vehicle
for the expression of personal opinions on
matters of naval interest, aims to stimulate
thought and discussion on such matters
among naval officers and others connected
with the Navies of the Commonwealth.
The views of junior officers are especially
welcome. Technical details, such as are
more appropriate to text books, should be
omitted from contributions.
Founded in I 9 I 2
ISSUED QUARTERLY FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
For the Regulations of THE NAVAL REWEW see overleaf.
It is important that they be carefully studied.
CopVrigted under Act of 1911
V O ~XLVIII
.
NO. 3
July, 1960
H.M.S. DEFENDER
Editor's Notes
OVENANTS signed at the date of going to press total 150, or 74% of our
membership; thus the response to the editorial appeal in the Aprii edition has
been marked but hardly spectacular. It is of course realised that a number of
members may have perfectly sound reasons for not wishing to covenant for seven
years, among these may be a disinclination to commit themselves to future expenditure even of such a trifling sum as half-a-crown a month, which is what the present
subscription amounts to. Some older members may fear that they commit their
estates, should they die within the period of the covenant, to the payment of the
subscription until it expires; this of course is not so. It is worth remembering that
by signing a covenant now a member insures himself against any increase in subscription for at least seven years. Despite the welcome pause over the last two years
in the 'inflationary spiral' it would be a bold man who would prophecy that the
annual subscription will still be thirty shillings in 1967. The cause of the meagre
response so far cannot be the extra expense because there is none and indeed, over
the next seven years, covenanting may well show a saving. One suspects that the
major cause may be quite simple and uncomplicated inertia and members whom this
cap may fit are cordially invited to take action without further delay!
The correspondence section of this edition reflects the very great interest which
the recent series of articles on the Battle of Jutland has aroused. 'Debunking' heroes
of the past is an unprofitable and rather squalid pastime which the Editor has no
wish or intention to sanction, but trying to draw lessons from history, and especially
comparatively modern history, he regards as one of the main intentions of the 'founding
fathers' of this journal, which should be forwarded and encouraged by every means.
The Editor seriously believes that some of the Navy's failures and misfortunes in
Hitler's War could have been avoided had the lessons of the Kaiser's War been
properly analysed and presented to his own generation of naval officers between the
wars. In saying this he seeks no alibi for his own generation, which probably displayed
as much lack of foresight and 'hindsight' as any other generation. But had the
histories of the Kaiser's War been less heavily censored and quicker to emerge (one
of the most important from a naval point of view, describing the effect of air operations on the defence of trade, was, if memory serves, never written); if the Editor and
his contemporaries had been just a bit more inquiring and sceptical, just a bit less
inclined to accept the comforting official view, who knows what disasters might have
been avoided ?
This edition contains a further contribution to the discussion of 'The Problem of
Leavebreaking', which seems to be a very worthwhile subject for discussion and
also an article, 'Embarras de Richesse', which may contain the germ of an idea which,
if expanded, could help to lessen the effect of too much affluence on the punishment
returns. It is hoped that no one, reading the title of the article 'What is wrong with
the Dockyards' will scent criticism and turn in disgust from what is a genuine attempt
to understand and explain the Dockyards' problems.
Serious professional articles seem, at present, to be in rather short supply. In such
circumstances the Editor can, of course, include more of the 'reminiscence' type of
article which he is always happy to receive but which can never be a substitute for
C
266
NOTICES
the serious discussion which the journal exists to promote. Matter for the October
edition should be sent in by mid-August if possible.
Note: Since this was written our printers have informed the Editor that unavoidable
delays have occurred in the production of this edition.
Notices
1960 Prize Article Competition
THENAVALREVIEWoffers a prize of twenty pounds for the best article written by
a member aged thirty years or under, and sent in between the 1st January and the
31st December, 1960. Competitors may submit more than one article and,$when
doing so, should state their date of birth. The prize may be divided at the Editor's
discretion.
THESecretary occasionally receives offers from members of back numbers of THE
he also keeps a limited stock for casual supply to applicants. Members
wishing to obtain or dispose of copies should apply to him.
NAVAL REVIEW;
Embarras de Richesse
'You can send a boy to college, but you cannot make him think.'
DUCATION is a complicated subject. There are so many facets of the
educated adult which educationists can attempt to cultivate or to destroy, so
many professions, each one of which requires a different educational approach,
and so many individual personalities among both teachers and taught, that unqualified conclusions in the field of education are practically unobtainable. Not
only that, they are undesirable, for regimentation of education entails an attempt
to ignore all those very real differences. It is also an attempt to ignore progress.
The problems of overcoming these obstacles to education, together with amending
teaching systems to suit the needs of the age, belong to the educationists. This
author does not claim to be one, nor is the following treatment of an educational
subject intended as a criticism of existing methods of education.
It is, however, intended as a criticism of the way our junior officers are prepared
for their education. In the same way as a school-teacher will rightly send home a
child who appears at school unkempt and dirty, this article is intended to point
out that our Officers Under Instruction are not reaching their classrooms in a fit state
to benefit from the education available to them. In the same way as the university
student must expect to fail his examination if he does not concentrate on his studies
without. as well as within. the classroom. this article is intended to underline the
fact that our 0.U.I.s are not sufficiently encouraged to study on their own, so that
even their classroom teaching loses much of its value.
The remedies for those shortcomings lie outside the bounds of the educationists.
They are the responsibility of the parents, so far as the schoolboy is concerned, of
the university so far as its own students are concerned, and of the Navy so far
as the O.U.I. is concerned. Now good parents base their treatment of the schoolchild on their own experience, on their knowledge of the demands made on the
child inside school, and on their desire to improve the child's character and career
prospects. And although the child is not, at the time, qualified to judge the type
of treatment which is best for him, in later life he is very often clearly conscious
of its good and bad points. Similarly, the Navy, if it wants to achieve the best out
of its trainees, must rely on experience, on correctly interpreting the changing excurricular pressures on the trainee's curricular progress, and, in relating, and
changing as necessary, systems and syllabi, to accord with the career they intend
for the trainee. Like the child in later life, this author feels, in retrospect, qualified
to hold definite opinions on the shortcomings of one training establishment's excurricular organisation, based on his own experience. He takes into consideration
the various social pressures to which he was subjected, and which will bear on any
O.U.I. today, regardless of the exact course he is on, or of the teaching methods
employed.
The suggestions which he puts forward are aimed at producing better officers.
They would improve professional standards, as well as giving a lot more time to
character development which in many differing forms, amounts to pure Officer
Training.
E
268
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
The establishment on which the author bases his opinions is a wonderful training
ground, elaborately equipped with a unique collection of training aids, well staffed
by a highly qualified team of civilian and Service instructors who are abreast of the
latest developments, and who spare no effort to keep techniques andsyllabi up to date.
I n these respects, as in many others, it is similar to other modern Service Training
Establishments. It may be that the standards achieved there at present are considered adequate. Be that as it may, this writer is convinced that they are well below
the standard which could be achieved if more attention was given to a more positive
policy of encouraging study and character training in lieu of various ex-curricular
forms of filling in time and spending money.
A good pupil needs a lot besides his brain to succeed. First, and all-important, he
must find the will to use his brain; secondly, and almost as important, he needs
the time to use it. Given these two things, the other necessities will follow; without
those two things, no pupil can become a good pupil. Considering first the will
to use the brain, it is vital that the pupil be given some reason to exert himself.
Some will do so because they are born seekers after knowledge. Some will never
do so unless pursued by the threat of punishment. Between those two extremes
is the normal pupil who reacts best to a reward of some sort. Some lucky ones can
see far enough ahead to the reward they will achieve in later life. Most require a
shorter term incentive; a prize, or the pride of being 'top of the class', or often a
direct financial reward.
For the young naval officer, the incentives are insufficient. One year's seniority
is the most that a brilliant student can gain over his dull neighbour. No one can
really blame the bright boys if they, understanding this, decide that,while they
will make sure of gaining that year, they have no intention of carrying their studies
to a pitch well in advance of that required, and yet still within their powers. At
the other end of the scale, the machinery required to remove an O.U.I. from the
Service in the event of his scholastic failure is cumbersome, and is not invoked
unless the case is exceptional; the pass rate is out of all proportion to the pass rate
at any university. Thus the individual has the knowledge that to scrape through
his course means only one year's seniority lost, the which he may easily regain in
ten years' time. The average young officer can hardly be blamed if he adopts the
attitude that much can happen in ten years, and meantime he likes to enjoy himself.
There is, in fact, neither an adequate 'carrot', nor an adequate 'whip'. Now there
should be no need for a 'whip' at all; and every measure designed to increase the
'carrot' at the same time diminishes the need for a 'whip'. The career 'carrot' is
beyond the scope of this article; but a new short-term incentive will be suggested.
For the present, it will be sufficient to establish that in the absence of an adequate
incentive, there arises something of a vacuum among the student's interests in life.
Naturally, that vacuum is filled with other interests, born out of other incentives,
which may have little or no relation to the improvement of his professional capacity
or of his character.
Considering now the question of the student's need for the time in which to use
his brain, it must be stated that most individuals have a definite maximum limit to
the time they can spend in study without becoming nervous wrecks. It must be
even more emphatically stated that the average student does not so much as approach
this limit during periods of training when examinations are not imminent, and
'cramming' thus unnecessary. This is plain fact, and it is not intended to suggest
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
269
that any one establishment is much better or worse in this respect than any other
comparable establishment. Most students are given to enjoying life out of the classroom. That is natural, and acceptable so long as the staff are able to fight their side
of the battle to gain at least a required basic minimum of the student's attention,
with little enough regard to the maximum 'saturation point'. The staff of an Officers'
Training Establishment must also exercise some control over the student's excurricular activities. This is so not only because these activities can be effective
officer training, but also because they can positively refresh the student and increase
his capacity for study: Mens sana, in corpore sano.
At least one of the weapons which has, until recently, always been on the side
of the staff has been money; or, to be more accurate, the student's lack of money.
This meant that a vast selection of expensive activities were not available to the
student, which now are. Few of those activities further the professional or character
training of the student, and most of them actively encroach on the benefit of this
training. The Welfare State has seen to it that the basic wage of the young General
List O.U.I. is now far beyond any of his reasonable needs. The pay is at its present
level for several reasons, the primary one being that it is related to industrial wages,
and to the wages paid to officers of the same rank who have come up from the Lower
Deck. Pay has td be high, for recruiting purposes as much as anything, and no one
has yet tried to differentiate between the wages paid to 'working' officers, as opposed
to those under training. Thus the competitive wages paid, and very necessarily paid,
to the sea-going 'working' officer, continue to be paid to the trainee, who squanders
most of his cash on a variety of pleasures most of which contribute to lower the
standards of his education. Significantly, there is no comparison to this anomaly
in industry. A man is paid according to his productivity, and a full-time trainee
can, at best, win bursaries to further his continuing education.
The Navy has been known to legislate against her trainees' attention being diverted
from their training by excessive spending power. At R.N.C. Dartmouth, as late as
1949, the thirteen to seventeen year old cadets were allowed one shilling a week
spending money, and parents were requested not to make any regular increase in
this sum. Elsewhere the trend towards giving the student greater spending power
continues, and the problem is appreciated without being faced up to and solved.
In 'Time' magazine dated February 23rd, 1959, appears the following:'After a lot of parents complained because their children were getting
failing marks, Principal Edwin Anderson of the Prosser, Wash., High School
made a survey, ventured an answer: an educational mixture too rich in
gasoline. His figures : of seniors with A or B grades, only 11 per cent own cars
or have the use of them regularly. Among C-grade seniors, 33 per cent have
cars, and 62 per cent of the C-minus-to-failing members are motorised. Cars
owned by juniors with A or B grades, none; with C grades, 31 per cent; and
with C-minus-to-failing marks, 39 per cent'.
Someone, sometime, in the Welfare State will have to face up to this problem.
For the logical conclusion of events is that professional education will produce a
bunch of charming amateurs. Right now, the problem is ours; for the Navy is
among the first professions whichcannot afford t o be staffed by amateurs. She is
also among the first professions which, for largely political reasons, pays trainees
a salary far beyond their immediate needs. She should therefore be in the forefront
of these professions which must amend their systems of training to accommodate
270
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
new conditions. At the same time she must not forget that, despite the increasing
technical education an officer requires, 'boffins' do not make good officers; any
improvement of the professional qualities of an officer at the expense of his personal
qualities would be a retrograde step. What is needed is an improvement in the
officer's positive qualities, at the expense of his negative ones.
The problem, in a nutshell, is to attract the 0.U.1.'~ time and attention away
from motor cars, away from alcohol, and away from women, back to less expensive
but more rewarding pursuits; back to study, back to sport, back to fresh air activities,
back to hobbies and group pursuits, back to becoming a good officer. In attempting
to do this, it would be worse than useless to ban motor cars, women, or alcohol,
from the student's life. For some, they are a necessary outlet towards normal
mental and physical growth; in moderation, they are a necessity to everyone. What
is required is a real effort to wean the scholar who is led into owning a car simply
to 'keep up with Jones', into realising that the Service has more to offer than Jones;
another effort to show the scholar who invariably maintains a girl-friend because
sex is the twentieth century symbol of everything from detergent soaps to successful
careers, that there are other joys and rewards in life besides sensuous ones; and
another effort to put the lasting ill-effects of addiction to alcohol in correct perspective
with the temporary relaxation to be gained from it.
At this stage, it will be convenient to leave the theme of the article temporarily,
and concentrate for a little on the drinking habits of 0.U.I.s. For they merit some
uninhibited publicity, and are the biggest single factor which tend to reduce the
value of training. It is over two centuries since Admiral Vernon wrote:'Whereas the swinish vice of drunkenness is but too visibly increasing in
our mariners in His Majesty's Service, attending the most fatal effects both
to their morals and their health, . . . it is of the utmost consequence both
for His Majesty's Service and the preservation of their morals and lives that
some remedy should be provided against so growing an evil . . .'
Vernon was right in his condemnation of the Navy's current drinking habits, and
the Navy owes him a debt for his forthright and unpopular treatment of the subject.
It is perhaps time someone 'did a Vernon' at our Training Establishments.
It is true that there is a poor case for absolute teetotalism among naval officers;
and even if there was a good one, it would be unrewarding to preach it. There is,
however, universal agreement that the drunken automobile driver is one of
civilisation's worst type of killer. There is absolute unanimity in naval circles that
a man unable to do a watch through the effects or after-effects of alcohol is a menace
to his ship, and a nuisance to his shipmates.
And yet, at some training establishments, there is an amused tolerance of an
O.U.I. who appears in class bleary-eyed and sleepless, quite unable to use his brain
to do more than try to stay awake; Mess dinners are actively encouraged, and 0.U.I.s
who avoid them are frowned upon; bars are open at lunchtime for students' use,
with a subsequent increase in sleepiness during afternoon study. Is not a student
drugged by the effects of alcohol a poor student? Of course he is. He is just as
poor a student as a drunkard is a poor driver or watchkeeper. In fact he is incapable
of performing his duty, which is to concentrate on his studies. Legally he might
therefore be accused of transgressing the Naval Discipline Act. Why, then, this
amused tolerance ?
It is perhaps because of a confusion in the minds' of some staff officers who think
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
.
27I
that, to be a good fighting Service, we must also be a hard-drinking Service. T o a
certain extent this was true of Drake's Navy and Nelson's Navy, and in modern
warfare too, when cold steel is resorted to, drink does dull a man's wits and make
him more of a savage. This is hardly the sort of war which naval officers of the
future are likely to fight. Professional excellence and quick-witted logical thinking,
combined with physical and mental endurance, are the weapons which we must
rely on to serve the country best. I t is not a bit of good trying to sharpen those
weapons by dulling our judgments with alcohol. I t is high time the staff of our
Training Establishments made clear that while social drinking is a necessary part
of the average naval officer's qualifications, excessive or habitual drinking is never
excusable. If this entails active discouragement of the consumption of alcohol,
then that must be done; for a beginning, it would be enough to ensure that all the
present positive encouragements to drinking be removed.
Returning now to the main thesis, some of the redirection of 0.U.1.'~enthusiasm
away from time-wasting pursuits can be achieved by example and by leadership;
but the greatest single factor which would operate in favour of training would be a
curtailment of the spending power of the student. At Dartmouth, this was achieved
by near compulsion, which might not be acceptable to older students, who must
be credited with more responsibility than the teenage Dart. Why then, for a beginning, could we not allow the student to exercise his responsibility towards himself by
asking himvoluntarilyto cut down his spending power during the period of his training ?
If the case was properly put to trainees, there can be no doubt that many would
agree, at the outset of their training, that the principle of curtailing their own
spending power is good. If the facilities were then immediately available, and
properly publicised, for them to contribute regularly part of their wages to a savings
fund, without any great thought or worry on their part, and with the assurance
that all the sum saved, plus interest, would be available to them on completion of
their training, there can be no doubt that some of them would use these facilities.
Others, of course, would not; but the results achieved by those who volunteered
to save, would speak more eloquently to future generations of trainees and their
parents than any written argument such as this; (vide the 'Time' paragraph quoted
above). It is quite possible that opinion, backed by naval discipline and increasing
rates of pay, would allow savings schemes to become a compulsory part of the 0.U.1.'~
life. Meantime, we ought to aim at collecting volunteers for definite schemes, and
produce some definite results.
The exact nature of any savings scheme for a Service Training Establishment
would depend on various factors; the number of trainees, their average age, their
average salary, and a lot of other variables. For the present it will be interesting to
oversimplify the difficulties, and imagine a Pilot Scheme, run on a voluntary basis,
that would approximate to the three-year course at present done by Engineer
officers. The plan of such a scheme is laid out at the conclusion of this article. There
is little likelihood that any actual scheme would bear more than a resemblance to the
layout shown, which is designed only as a very brief, over-simplified, framework. The
main advantages and disadvantages of such a scheme may be re-stated briefly, thus :-
ADVANTAGES
1. During training, 0.U.I.s who elect to use the scheme would have less ready
cash, and less temptation to waste their time on expensive and unrewarding pursuits.
272
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
2. The time saved by those 0.U.I.s could be put to good use for individual
study, and for group activities, hobbies, etc. A greater degree of concentration on
both work and play would be assured.
3. Savings accrued would be a real asset to the trained officer in later life. He
would also realise the oft-repeated and seldom-heeded virtues of thrift. Interest
accrued would enhance the value of capital.
4. If such a scheme should ever reach official approval and become obligatory
for some O.U.I.s, there are clear, short-term, financial incentives, available to the
student who applies himself, by way of increasing his measure of control of his
earned income.
5. If a scheme on the lines of that suggested was a success, it could prove to be
the prototype of other more ambitious and possibly more valuable morale-building
schemes, all based on officially-sponsored savings. For the effect of excessive spending
power is equally noticeable in the increase of leavebreaking, drunkenness and other
petty offences by young ratings, many of them under training at sea or on shore.
It is unnecessary to labour the point that if we could train these ratings into a habit
of saving, they and the Service would benefit.
DISADVANTAGES
1. There would be a narrowing in the 0.U.1.'~breadth of largely useless, but
tempting, experience.
2. There would exist a requirement for staff to run the scheme. This might
best be done by a Banking firm, in return for normal bank charges.
3. Should the scheme become obligatory, further controversial disadvantages
crop up. For the present, whilst the aim is to start a voluntary scheme, these can
legitimately be omitted.
This article has not been written as a popular pot-boiler. The points it makes
may well be unpalatable to older officers as well as young ones. However, neither
popularity nor bad habit are logical criterions on which to base an argument. It
is to be hoped that such truth as is contained in the article will be acted upon, and
not shelved in favour of more complicated, but less effective changes such as have
recently been made in Officers' Training Schemes. For although those changes
which have occurred may have been inevitable, and major improvements in themselves on the purely educational side of the 0.U.1.'~ training, they take no account
of the supremely important background to his training.
PILOT VOLUNTARY SAVINGS SCHEME
Assume:
1. That the course is a three-year one, each year being split into the normal
three terms.
2. That the total number of trainees is 270, i.e. 30 to a term.
3. That each year consists of 250 days' training and 115 days' leave.
4. That each trainee joins as an Acting Sub-Lieutenant; that he is promoted
to Sub-Lieutenant at the beginning of his second year, and to Lieutenant at the
beginning of his third year.
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSE
273-
5. That being given an option to join the scheme or leave it at the beginning
of each year of training:At the start of their first year ... 75 per cent join
At the start of their second year.. . 50 per cent rejoin, 25 per cent leave
At the start of their third year ... 25 per cent rejoin, 25 per cent leave
(These figures are intended to accept, but not condone, the increase in a student's
expenses as he grows older and more attracted to the expensive pleasures of the
twentieth century.)
Basic Regulations
1. Each individual to be given the option of joining the scheme, or leaving it,
or rejoining it, at annual intervals. The decision, once made, to be irrevocable for
the coming year, unless exceptional cases of hardship or financial embarrassment
occur.
2. The first E50 of each individual's savings to be put into a 'Cash Fund'. This
sum always to be available in cash to the individual, at the discretion of his Divisional
Officer.
3. This Cash Fund to be invested by the authorities and the interest accruing
to be credited to individual accounts.
4. All savings in excess of E50 to be invested as individuals require, with the
limitations :(a) Once his decision is reached, all savings must be so dealt with for one
year.
(b) Only a few alternative investments to be available, and none of them
speculative, i.e. Premium Bonds, Defence Bonds, National Savings,
Building Societies, Unit Trusts.
5. The cash organisation of the scheme to be in the hands of non-Service
personnel.
6. The total sum saved, plus all interest accruing, to be available to the individual
when he leaves the scheme. Alternative arrangements to be made whereby the
investments can remain untouched and the vouchers handed over to the individual
or his representatives.
7. Individuals to be paid at f d rates when on leave, if they so desire. During
training, an Acting Sub-Lieutenant (basic pay, 28s. per diem) to be actually paid
at a rate of 14s. per diem minus tax, and to save at a rate of 14s. per diem. A SubLieutenant (basic pay, 32s. per diem) to be actually paid 16s. per diem minus tax,
and to save at a rate of 16s. per diem. A Lieutenant (basic pay, 38s. per diem) to
be actually paid 18s. per diem minus tax, and to save at a rate of 20s. per diem.
Financial Results to be expected
(i) From the student's point of view.
First year-250 days at 14s.
...
El75
Second year-250 days at 16s. . ..
... L200
Third year-250 days at 20s. ...
... E250
Total Savings (neglecting interest)
... E625
(ii) From the Banker's point of view.
At the end of one year a student who joins the scheme will have saved El75
At the end of two years a student who rejoins the scheme will have saved L375
At the end of three years a student who again rejoins the scheme will have
saved ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... A625
Therefore at the end of any one year (after the scheme has been running for
three years) :75 per cent of 90 First Year Students will have saved a total of
E(0.75-90-175)
... ... ... ... ... ... ... E11,800
50 per cent of 90 Second Year Students will have saved a total of
... ... ...
...
...
... ... L16,900
L(O.50-90-375)
25 per cent of 90 Third Year Students will have saved a total of
E(0.25-90625)
...
... ... ... ... ... ... L14,100
Thus, the total Capital available to the Banker at the end of any one year would
be &42,800.
JOHN F. ALLAN
What's Wrong with the Dockyards ?
S
OME years ago a series of articles appeared in a popular newspaper entitled
'What's Wrong with the Navy?' Many naval officers resented these articles
which were, as is usual in the popular press, inaccurate and full of half-truths
which were built up into exaggerated complaints of gross inefficiency, absurd
conservatism and stupid Blimpism. Nevertheless we all recognised that there was
something wrong and the articles highlighted some of the Navy's failings.
As long as I can remember, naval officers have asked 'What's wrong with the
Dockyards?' and in answering their own question have made statements as inaccurate as those published in the press about the Navy. Naturally these statements
have been resented by the dockyards and this resentment has been justified since
the naval officers' criticisms are based on scant knowledge of the subject. This
article is intended to illuminate some of the problems of the dockyards and explain
the reasons for some of their failings.
No one, not even the most dyed-in-the-wool dockyard civil servant will claim
that the dockyards are above criticism. Indeed everyone recognises that there is
room for eno;mous improvements. How is it then that improvements come about
so slowly ?
Some of the most usual criticisms of the dockyards are these:(a) High Cost. It is claimed that dockyard costs are well above those of private
yards and this is often blamed on an antique accounting system.
(b) Lack of Planning. It is claimed that no orderly method of working has been
evolved and confusion results.
(c) Idling. The dockyard workman is said to be an idle fellow who wastes away
his time whenever opportunity exists.
(d) Outdated Equipment is said to be employed and little attempt made to
replace it.
(el Outdated Methods are employed.
(f) Workmanship has deteriorated.
(g) Ships are never completed on time or at the estimated cost.
Before these criticisms can be answered a basic knowledge of the Navy Votes
system is necessary.
The money voted by Parliament to the Navy each year is divided into a number
of 'Votes', each one of which is voted upon separately by Parliament. The Admiralty
is not authorised to exceed the expenditure voted under one heading even though
another may be under-expended, no money may be transferred between votes, nor
carried forward to a future year nor used for any purpose other than that for which
it is voted. The Secretary of the Admiralty is responsible to Parliament (not to the
Board) that these rules are complied with. Consequently further rules have to be
laid down by the Board to control expenditure.
The votes of greatest interest to the dockyards are Vote 8 (Shipbuilding and
Repairs) and Vote 10 (Works). These are sub-divided into sections and sub-sections
each of which has to be kept separately.
Thus the dockyards are allocated a sum that may be expended on labour. A
further and strictly limited sum is allocated for overtime and another for payment
by results. None of these may be exceeded. Moreover, any large sum to be expended
on a particular item (e.g. a modernisation) has to be approved individually by the
Ministry of Defence and by the Treasury.
Besides all this, and not directly related to it, is a 'ceiling' to the numbers of 'nonindustrials' allowed to the Admiralty as a whole. This includes inspectors, foremen
and above, clerks, draughtsmen and all other salaried employees of the Admiralty.
This again is broken down into maxima for each dockyard, Admiralty department
and civil establishment. Thus, if an extra foreman is required in a dockyard a civil
post must be reduced in the same yard. Sometimes exchanges between establishments are possible, but not often. Against this background it is possible to attempt
to answer some of the criticisms.
High Cost. Costs are high, yes. But it is a matter of simple fact that they are
lower than in private yards. Direct comparisons are not often feasible because
refits and repairs are seldom identical. The best comparison of recent years has
been the conversion of Type 15 Frigates, of which there was a sufficient number
to give a not unreasonable comparison. The average cost of the conversions was
significantly lower in the Royal Yards than in private yards. And so it should be,
since the difference represents the shareholders' interest.
Lack of Planning. Tremendous efforts have been made in recent years to introduce
full-scale pre-planning into the dockyards. But several factors must be remembered.
Ship repair work is 'jobbing' work; it is 'one off' (or at most, a few 'off') and not
in any way similar to mass production or even batch production which can be planned
in detail. In industry there is a common (almost universal) view that jobbing work
cannot be planned satisfactorily if at all. The dockyards have not accepted this
and are trying out various methods of planning. But experience is necessary and
many methods have already been tried and thrown away as impracticable. Many
more will be thrown away before satisfactory results will be shown. But planning
requires people to plan (and in large numbers) and the ceiling of non-industrials
limits the numbers available, and reduces those available for direct supervision.
Moreover, planning is only possible with known factors. Unknowns cannot be
catered for in any plan, and the unknowns presented to a dockyard are many. Will
276
WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE DOCKYARDS ?
a modernisation be approved? When will equipment be delivered and will the
promised date be kept ? Will a new weapon be fitted ? Will it be available when
approval to fit it is received ? Will it be superseded by a new weapon when the work
is half done ?
The method of design employed in the Admiralty and the dockyards is somewhat
as follows :(a) A new piece of equipment is to be fitted in a certain compartment.
(b) An outline drawing of the compartment is made and forwarded to Admiralty.
(c) Admiralty prepares a guidance drawing of the way the equipment is to be
fitted and sends it to the yard.
(d) The yard makes a detailed drawing and submits it to Admiralty for approval.
(e) If approved it is returned to the yard.
(f) Work may now start.
The whole process takes time, and many Admiralty departments may have to be
consulted at each stage. Hundreds of drawings may be necessary for one refit and
only a limited number of draughtsmen is available both in the yards and at headquarters to work on them. Thus long delays are inevitable and as long as six months
may pass before a drawing is approved after being submitted by the yard.
Orders for machinery and equipment cannot be placed until approval has been
received to fit it. Delivery time varies but may be as long as two or three years,
and often when the date comes round and enquiries are made of the manufacturer
he blandly informs Admiralty that the promised date will not be met. There is
nothing the Admiralty can do about this because default clauses in Admiralty
contracts are not permitted by law, though private firms take care to insert one
in every contract they place. A default clause consists of a clause in which the
manufacturer declares that he will deliver on a specific date, in default of which he
loses a specified sum for every day he is late. The result is, of course, that if a manufacturer has work in hand for the Admiralty and a private firm simultaneously, he
will make quite sure there is no delay to the private work and the Admiralty contract
will go by the board.
The Admiralty Overseer system does help to anticipate these delays but it can
do nothing to stop them and they remain largely unpredictable. Delays in the supply
of information from Admiralty are the cause of much high blood pressure in the
dockyards. Often such delays are unavoidable but one is not easily convinced that
this is always true. An example (one of thousands) is an Admiralty letter received
in a dockyard in April one Lear concerning the installation of certain electrical
equipment in a ship that had been in hand for six months. The letter stated that
the design would not be finalised until January the following year and it was therefore unlikely that firm main run (my italics) information would be available until
the succeeding April or May or position wiring diagrams until the middle of the
following year. However, some information on the cable runs between the various
positions in the ship was given and blood pressure began to subside, only to rise
again on reading the final paragraph which stated that changes might be necessary
as a result of trials 'now being conducted' in another ship. These are some of the
factors that militate against planning. There are others and some are the fault of
the 'customer'.
Every dockyard officer groans when the Christmas, Easter and Summer leave
periods approach, especially the latter, for he knows that as the Fleet approaches
its home ports to give leave hundreds of officers will be scratching their heads to
find jobs that can be put in to the dockyard during the leave period, a period when
many workmen themselves are taking leave. They will all, of course, be described
as 'beyond the capacity of ship's staff', though no one has yet found a satisfactory
measure of ship's staff capacity.
These extra (and, according to the letter of the law, unauthorised) defects cannot
be pre-planned, for no matter how long he gazes in his crystal ball the dockyard
officer cannot predict how many or what sort of items will be submitted. Any wise
dockyard officer tries to keep some spare capacity for these items. Almost invariably
however he finds his spare capacity has been absorbed by 'emergency repairs' or
'urgent defects'. He tries to turn down those items he considers unnecessary or
within the capacity of ship's staff, who immediately appeal to their administrative
authority and always get support. So the dockyard officer is forced in the end to
undertake the item. This can only be done at the expense of a ship officially in hand
and has a consequent effect upon completion dates.
Demarcation problems and unbalance of labour have serious effects upon planning
and explain much of the idling so often commented upon by ships' officers. Trade
demarcations have evolved over the years in a sprawling, gangling, unregulated and
largely fortuitous manner. Today they make no sense, but it is understandable that
the Trade Unions guard jealously their right to do certain work. This dates from
the days when unemployment caused genuinely terrible hardships among workmen.
Many a home was sold up and many a man took to 'the road' with or without his
wife and family, to find work. Naturally the various trades tried to establish
monopolies on specific types of work, to protect themselves. The days of unemployment are not forgotten by the work people even if they are too young to have lived
through them and bitter memories give them a grim determination to retain work
for themselves in good times and bad.
Partly the result of trade demarcation, but also of varying skills and genuine
specialisation, labbur unbalance causes some apparent idling. A yard may have a
temporary surplus of shipwrights and a shortage of electrical fitters. A ship wants
a refit and there is plenty of work in her for shipwrights. But there is also a lot of
electrical work. There is no good sending her to this yard since however well the
shipwright work will be done, no electrical work can be undertaken, and ships'
officers will hardly be satisfied with this state of affairs. Ship's defect lists are not
tailor-made to suit the dockyards. The result is that our shipwrights remain with
little to do, they cannot be employed on electrical work and they are seen to be
idling.
Idling can sometimes be intentional, however, and calculated. The system on
which dockyard workmen are paid is usually (though by no means always) a system
of 'Payment by Results'. One such system is known as the Job Contract System.
The number of hours needed to complete a task by a group or an individual is
estimated. Under the system a man working with 'average diligence and skill' is
expected to make a profit of 45 per cent over 'day rates', so the time required is
multiplied by 1.45. I t is then multiplied by the average hourly rate for the group
and the sum arrived at is paid to the men on a pro rata share basis irrespective of
the time taken.
But this scheme was invented in 1913 when men earned only E3 9s. per week.
Since then wages have been increased greatly. But the increases have taken the
form of additions to the basic rate, which remains the same. An average man's
wages now consist of the following parts:...
69s. Od.
Basic rate
'War bonus'
... ... 103s. 8d.
Merit pay
...
...
22s. 6d.
Repair allowance
...
1s. 6d.
...
196s.8d.
Total
...
The above figures apply to engine fitters. All trades are similar. The price in a
Job Price Contract is determined in relation only to the basic rate. Thus, if he makes
45 per cent a man receives only an extra 33s. 9d.
But if he works overtime he receives one and a half times his 'consolidated rate'
(i.e. 196s. 8d.) and twice on Sundays, so that for one hour's overtime he receives
about 6s. 8d.; therefore only a few hours' overtime can exceed his payments on
J.P.C., which in any case are paid in addition to his overtime pay. The more skilled
a workman is the better his merit pay and consequently the better his overtime'pay,
but not his profit on J.P.C. Clearly it pays a workman to regulate his speed of
working so as to reap the maximum benefit from overtime and J.P.C., and idling
on occasions may actually pay.
Now before we condemn the man for this attitude, let us remember that he is
not a naval rating. He is a civilian, with rights, privileges and outlook that are very
diilerent from those of a naval rating. T o him his employment is a business proposition and if he can make it pay better, more luck to him. An antiquated system?
Certainly. But it is not in the control of dockyard officers.
If a satisfactory scheme could be drawn up, not only Labour branch but the
Treasury and the Unions would have to agree to it. The Treasury deals with pounds,
shillings and pence. I t is no good telling them that it would pay the Admiralty to
pay the men more in their J.P.C. earnings. You must prove it.. Can you?
One of the Unions' main preoccupations is to ensure full employment to their
members. You may say that there is plenty of work to do and no danger of an
improved method creating a shortage of work. But is this true? If a long refit
were completed in, say, half the anticipated time, would more work immediately
be available? Or would there be an embarrassing lull in which the men would
have little to do. And would you then start agitating for discharges of work people
to reduce this waste ? What, then, when the work did come along ? The men you
sacked would have other jobs. Even if you don't agree with this reasoning, the
Unions do, and are reluctant to accept new methods without positive assurance
that redundancy will not result.
Every year dockyard officers spend a good deal of their time arguing about equipment and buildings. This is because the relevant sub-sections of the appropriate
votes are always too small to provide anything approaching the total of new equipment required. It is the old story of getting a quart (or rather a gallon) out of a
half-pint pot. It can't be done. There is half a pint to go round and this has to be
distributed in spoonfuls and when it is all gone the unlucky ones go without for
another year.
Workmanship has deteriorated. Of course it has. It has done so all over the
country and will continue to do so as long as rising costs continue. But in my opinion,
and I write with great deliberation, the standards of the dockyard matey have not
deteriorated as fast as those of the naval rating. Two wrongs don't make a right I
know, but remember what people in glasshouses should refrain from doing.
Sometimes ships are completed on time and within the original estimates. In
fact usually they are. And it may be regarded as a highly creditable performance
by the dockyards that in all the circumstances this is so.
This is not the whole picture. It is only a sketch of one-tenth of rhe picture. I
could fill several issues of THE NAVAL REVIEW with more details of the whole sad
story. But perhaps it is enough to make us pause before we criticise with an insufficient knowledge. The dockyards are inefficient; but they are very efficient
indeed when compared with many private yards, who would never dream of
accepting either the limitations imposed upon the Royal Yards or the tasks that
are presented to them. It is all a matter of degree. How do you measure efficiency ?
Is there anything that naval officers can do to help ? Yes, there are several things.
The first is stop criticising. The second is remember you are dealing with civilians
and don't dictate. Don't thump the table and say 'I intend to sail at 0800 on Monday
and the job has got to be completed by then, Mr. Constructor'. He is the doctor.
Ask him if the patient will be fit. He will use all the medicine in his bag if necessary.
Don't press for essential items that are not essential. Got a dictionary? Look
the word up.
Do what you can with ship's staff-the most you possibly can, not just what
you can do in the time you can spare from inter-part soccer.
Don't put up Alterations and Additions unless they really fall within the
dictionary definition of 'essential'.
When you're serving at the Admiralty don't lobby through Alterations and
Additions against all technical advice. You have little idea of the cost in time,
money and space.
Don't call for constant changes throughout the refit or you'll never complete.
Give the dockyards all the help and co-operation you possibly can. Boy! they need it.
Is there anything the Admiralty can do? Certainly, and much is being done,
though not all those in a position to judge agree with it.
First need is a proper incentive scheme to replace the antiquated Payment by
Results System, a scheme that will pay the men so well that they can achieve really
high take-home wage packets without straining themselves by overwork or overtime but by really getting on with the job.
Many of the demarcation problems would disappear under such a scheme. So
would many other difficulties melt away, for when a man's pay is at stake he will
soon find ways round difficulties or create hell until ways are found for him. Hard
work must be made to pay.
But there are many men who cannot be included in existing incentive schemes
by reason of their occupation, even though this may have important effects upon
production, for example, crane drivers, Lister truck drivers, labourers employed on
general tasks and, above all, chargemen. A good workman on the higher rates of
merit pay doing well on his Job Price Contracts may do a lot better than a chargeman who cannot participate in them. Consequently many of the best men refuse
to become chargemen, and those who do are often discouraged and disgruntled.
They have great responsibility and a lot of brain-teasing administrative work thrown
upon them, are badgered by their superiors and by ships' officers and reap no
adequate reward.
An 'average bonus' system where such men are paid the average extra pay earned
by all the men in the group with whom they work would go far to encourage these
'outsiders' and increase production.
Trade demarcations have their counterpart in departmental demarcations and the
latter do not necessarilv coincide with the former.
Ventilation trunking inside machinery spaces is dealt with by Manager,
Engineering Department, those outside by Manager, Constructive Department:
the first by boilermakers, the last by shipwrights. This is an example of a departmental demarcation which is also a trade demarcation. But the vast field of purely
mechanical work performed by M.C.D.'s shipfitters is not. Like the engine fitters
of M.E.D., most of these men are members of the A.E.U. and, as far as the Union
is concerned, are fitters, just as are the engine fitters. Both do a similar apprenticeship and many engine fitters are employed every day of the working week on work
identical to that carried out by shipfitters. The segregation of the two leads to
wasteful employment and loss of production. But their separation has nothing to
do with the Union or the men. I t is an internal matter which could be put right
by a more dictatorial attitude on the part of the Admiralty.
The separation of departments has other even more serious objections. In each
yard, for instance, there are three separate drawing offices-M.C.D., M.E.D. and
E.E.M.-in some yards separated literally by miles. The result is that if each
drawing office is working on equipment to be fitted in a single compartment, a
constant exchange of details has to go on. Ideas are put on paper and passed to
the other departments to be vetted and agreed to. More often than not agreement
is only reached when sketches have passed two or three times round departments.
How much more sensible to rename the existing drawing offices 'Big Ships', 'Small
Ships' and 'Submarines' or some similar label and get all the draughtsmen together.
The necessity for the Admiralty's financial stranglehold on the dockyards is
difficult to understand. I t is argued that control of expenditure is necessary in
order to prevent abuse. The Admiral Superintendent is a man of vast experience,
immense responsibility and has under his charge an industrial undertaking comparing
with the biggest in the country. If the Chairman of the Board of Directors of a firm
of comparable size were subjected to the niggling detailed control that is imposed
upon the Admiral Superintendent he would resign on the spot and would have a
lot to say about the impossibility of running a successful business on such lines.
The Admiral Superintendent should, as far as is possible under the Parliamentary
estimate system, be given lump sums to run the yard as he thinks fit and should be
made answerable that the best use is made of the money. This could hardly affect
control of the estimates since the sum allocated to the yard would be known at the
beginning of the financial year and an Admiral Superintendent would be bound to
keep within it. He should be obliged to draw up an annual balance sheet and
financial report.
The Admiralty should press for more flexibility between votes and through the
years. Even if they were only allowed to transfer 1 per cent between votes and
carry 1 per cent forward from one year to the next a tremendous increase in flexibility
would result, with immense consequent economies. At present small economies
in one vote frequently result in large expenses on other votes. For example,
insufficient funds may be available in Vote 10 to provide proper accommodation
for expensive electrical equipment which may have to be 'housed' in the open or
in damp conditions, The equipment then deteriorates and expensive refitting has
to be carried out as a heavy charge to Vote 8. Nobody will spare Vote 10 money
but nobody minds spending Vote 8.
Many of the delays in providing information to the yards are due to the present
'circulating' system of dealing with Admiralty papers. A letter from sea is docketed
and then passed round departments in turn, each remarking on the aspects of the
paper concerning him. Many months may pass before the paper has been through
all departments and an answer can be given (even if departments agree, which they
seldom do!).
Papers should be copied in a central copying room and each department concerned should receive a copy at the same time. Remarks could then converge upon
the department responsible for co-ordinating the reply, each department sending
copies of its remarks to departments concerned with the same aspects of the paper.
Argument can go on on the telephone (it already does) and, if necessary, the coordinating department can call for further remarks from specific departments.
There is, of course, an objection to this system-more typists would be needed and
more paper would be used. But typists and paper are cheap compared with warships !
The Admiralty has much in common with the United Nations Security Council.
Each department has the power of veto but none the power of decision. Each can
say a particular idea is 'unacceptable' and this more or less puts the kybosh on it.
But a proposal made by one department cannot be given the force of law without
the concurrence of a great many others. This is management by consent-about
the slowest, most argumentative and inefficient method of management.
The Navy is a despotic Service; what the Admiral says goes. But the Admiralty
is painfully democratic. Nobody says what goes. The members of the Board are
supposed to arbitrate in differences of opinion. But in practice few cases are ever
put up to them for decision until the details have been ironed out at lower levels
and a plain answer 'yes' or 'no' is needed. This is, of course, perfectly proper, for
the members of the Board simply have not time (there are only twenty-four hours
in each day) to arbitrate in every dispute. But it may be months before differences
can be resolved; often the solution is a compromise unsatisfactory to all parties
and often the matter is never resolved but just dropped to avoid going to the Board
over what may appear a small matter at such a level.
Nihillism has attempted to provide a 'boss' for each group, each Director General
being responsible for making the decisions between divisions in his department.
But the old tradition dies hard and as yet no one, not even a Director General, will
argue with autonomous departments. In any case, the evil remains, for Directors
General are so busy they cannot be pestered with detail until it has been ironed out
at lower levels and a plain answer 'yes' or 'no' is required.
More dictatorship in the Admiralty, less argument and discussion, quicker
decisions, even if some of them are wrong ones-these are needed; fewer grandiose
proposals from sea, a tighter rein on Alterations and Additions and the compulsion
to justify such proposals as are put forward; a more up-to-date system of incentive
payments, less rigid demarcation both of trades and departments; much, much more
authority delegated to the Admiral Superintendent, all these are needed-sadly needed.
Given these, we might see a change in the Royal Dockyards; then the real
reorganisation could begin!
'MATEY'
The Scuttling of the Interned German
Fleet at Scapa Flow: 21st June, 1919.
T
HE scuttling of the ships of the German High Seas Fleet that had been interned
at Scapa Flow following the signing of the Armistice in November, 1918, was
an event that gave rise to much speculation and argument both at the time and
since; and the end probably is not yet.
At the time of the occurrence the guard at Scapa Flow was being provided by
the First Battle Squadron of the Atlantic Fleet, which comprised the five ships
of the Royal Sovereign class under the command of Vice-Admiral Sir Sydney
Fremantle with his flag in the Revenge. With them was a number of destroyers,
together with subsidiary craft such as trawlers. The account that follows was written
immediately after the occurrence by an officer %whowas at the time a watchkeeping
Lieutenant in the Ramillies.
SCAPAFLOW:SATURDAY,
2 1 JUNE,
~ ~1919
This day the prestige of the British Navy suffered a blow from which it will take
many years to recover.
At 0940 we weighed and proceeded out of harbour to carry out a long range
torpedo exercise which we had been endeavouring to carry out for the last three
days but had been prevented by the unsuitability of the weather. The whole Battle
Squadron went, and all the destroyers except the WaZpole who, with the attached
trawlers and drifters, formed the sole guard over the Germans.
We had just finished the first run, an attack by the destroyers, and had sent the
hands to dinner when, at 1235, the signal came through 'Negative Exercise'. Shortly
afterwards speed was increased to 17 knots and the destroyers were ordered to return
to harbour immediately.
At 1305 the Admiral made the following signal:'Germans are reported to be hoisting their colours and sinking their ships.
On arrival Marine detachment is to be ready to land. All steamboats and
cutters ready for service, and one 6-inch gun each side to be ready for service.
All Germans to be taken to nearest battleship as prisoners of war'.
This was followed at 1330 by:'Revenge, Ramillies and Royal Oak land detachment at Lyness, Long Hope
and Houton respectively, immediately on arrival. Patrol coasts for Germans
and reassure local population'.
And at 1400:'If signal NB is made on arrival, the following action is to be taken. All
steamboats and cutters are to be sent away to hunt German boats and secure
prisoners; armed guard in trawlers to any German ships still afloat and
endeavour to keep them afloat, using every possible means. Revenge takes
SW end of lines of German ships, Ramillies centre and Royal Sovereign NNE
end. Marine detachments to land in any case as already ordered and without
further signal'.
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW,
1919
283
We passed through Hoxa Sound at 1415 and at 1455 anchored in 'G' line; Revenge,
G.2; Ramillies, G.3; and Royal Sovereign, G.4. By this time only six ships were
left afloat. Of these the Baden seemed to be all right, but was too far off to allow of
accurate judgment; the Markgraf, though on an even keel, was settling by the stern,
her lower deck cabin scuttles being awash; the Emden seemed at her normal draught;
the Frankfurt was settling on an even keel, and the Bremse was well down by the
stern. The sixth ship, the Niirnberg, was hidden by the island of Cava. Just as we
let go our anchor a small tug, the Samphire Butts, got hold of the Bremse and towed
her over to Toy Ness, where she succeeded in beaching her. Unfortunately the
Bremse was already in such a bad way that she rolled over on her starboard side so
that only her stem and a few feet of her forecastle remained above water. Over
towards Risa we could just make out the hull of one of the battle-cruisers lying over
on her side. The only traces of the other ships were little clusters of wreckage
over the places where they sank, which were occasionally scattered by the upward
rush of bubbles of air which had managed to escape from odd corners where it had
been trapped.
The whole Flow was covered with tugs, trawlers and miscellaneous small craft
which had been sent to pick up survivors, with here and there a cluster of German
boats, all flying dingy white flags. The moment we arrived we were surrounded
by them.
At 1445 signal NB was hoisted. The moment the anchor was down two armed
guards under the Commander (G) and the First-Lieutenant went away to the
Baden and Markgraf. We did not hear anything of the former for some hours; but
the latter was seen to board the Markgraf, which seemed to be in much the same
state as when we first arrived. A few minutes later a 'V'class destroyer went alongside her, evidently with the intention of taking her in tow and beaching her.
However, she had hardly got way upon her before it was observed that she had
begun to settle rapidly, at the same time taking up a list to port. She settled down
until the guns in her port battery were awash, then rolled over on her port side
until her funnels were parallel with the water and her deck vertical, in which
position she remained long enough for the details of her upper deck to be clearly
observed, then quite quickly disappeared.
Here I interrupt my own narrative to set down the story of what occurred while
we were out at sea, as related to me by one of our Midshipmen in H.M. Trawler
Cudwosin, commanded by one of our Sub-Lieutenants, which was one of the guard
trawlers at the time.
They took over their section (No. 11) at 0900 and found all correct. They therefore continued to steam round their section, each circuit taking about an hour. At
1145 they noticed that the German Admiral had hoisted the signal T S (TS in our
code: I do not know the German equivalent) which in the German code signifies
'Special attention is to be paid to the Admiral's next signal'. As he was permitted
to make signals to his ships this naturally excited no comment. At 1157, just as
they were crossing the bows of the Koenig Albert, they observed that she was lowering
her starboard boats and that their crews, with lifebelts on, were jumping into them.
They turned to go alongside her and noticed that the Friederich der Grosse had
taken a heavy list to starboard. At 1200 all capital ships and light cruisers hoisted
the German naval ensign, the destroyers the red flag.
284
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW, I91 9
They immediately passed a signal through a 'puffery* to the guard destroyer that
the Germans were sinking their ships, and went alongside the Konig Albert, which
by that time had been abandoned by all but her Captain. They had served out
and loaded their small arms in case of trouble, so our Sub-Lieutenant hailed the
Captain in his own language and told him that if they did not return onboard
immediately he would open fire. On hearing that they promptly hoisted the white
flag, while the Captain shouted 'Nein! Nein! We all sink in two minutes!'
That being the case, the best course appeared to be to take the boats in tow.
They therefore took two of the Koenig Albert's boats and then went and collected
some others that were scattered around them. The Captain of the Koenig Albert
and three seamen started off on their own in a skiff but were soon captured by a
tug.
Most of the German boats were pulling towards the shore so they then steamed
in towards Cava to head some of them off. On the beach they saw two men, farmers
by appearance, a soldier in khaki and a boy, with guns in their hands, lined up
with the evident intention of keeping the Germans off. They hailed them and
told them to do their best to prevent the Germans from landing. They then saw
them fire a few shots, which had the desired effect. Some of these boats they took
in tow, bringing their total up to thirteen, some of which they turned over to a
large tug.
By this time the first of the destroyers had got in. Many of the German ships
had disappeared; most of the others were in a very bad way. These destroyers and
some tugs therefore set to and, by dint of strenuous exertions, managed to beach
eighteen of the German torpedo-boats.
On arrival of the First Division they towed their prisoners to them and eventually
brought them alongside.
The first of these boats to come to us belonged to the Prinzregent Luitpold and
contained her Captain, Kapitanleutnant von Reiche, a Leutnant and several ratings.
The Kapitanleutnant could speak excellent English and was therefore made interpreter. The men all came up the side smoking cigarettes, so the Gunnery Officer
stationed himself in the gangway and compelled them to throw them away before
they came inboard.
Boats now began to arrive in any order, some under their own power, some in
tow. Besides their human freight, the pulling boats were loaded down with baggage
and quantities of unpleasant meat and bread, quite the most repulsive foodstuffs
I have ever seen. There was also a fair quantity of liquor in evidence and several
men were engaged in disposing of it by the simple method of knocking off the necks
of the bottles and drinking the contents. In the cabin of the Seydlitz's motor picket
boat were the dead bodies of Korvettenkapitan Schumann, of the Markgraf, and
a seaman of the same ship, both of whom had been shot at point blank range by the
Lieutenant in command of one of the guard trawlers, as they gave trouble when he
boarded the Markgraf and ordered her ship's company to come out of their boats.
The Surgeon Commander went down into the boat and examined the bodies for
any sign of life, but found that both had been shot through the head and had died
instantly.
-
* A type of small cargo vessel with steam machinery aft, and a single hold, in those days plying
in numbers round the Scottish coasts,
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW, I 9 I 9
285
The Germans all came onboard with a very truculent air, particularly the officers,
who had their hands in their pockets and slouched along in a most insolent manner.
This could not be allowed, so Lieutenant-Commander (T) and I stationed ourselves
in a suitable position and corrected their lack of manners before allowing them to
proceed further. They were then sent aft to their enclosures. These enclosures
were formed by two lines of seamen armed with rifles, one being drawn up athwartships just abaft the muzzles of 'Y' turret, the other at right angles to it and extending
as far aft as the stern post. The starboard side was appropriated to the officers,
the opposite side to the men. This arrangement apparently did not meet with the
approval of the German officers, as after a short time Korvettenkapitan Zirzow,
the Captain of the Baden and senior German officer onboard, approached the
Captain and complained that it was degrading for officers to be placed under the
guard of seamen, and requested that the guard should be removed. I am sorry
to say that the Captain acceded to his request and ordered the guard to be withdrawn, replacing it by an armed Lieutenant. However the Commander soon put
the Boches in their place again, for, seizing a moment when the Captain's attention
was distracted, he approached Zirzow and, brandishing his telescope, informed
him in his most truculent manner that although the guard had been withdrawn,
the limits of the enclosure had been in nowise altered, and that did a German officer
but set his foot outside that enclosure he would be instantly shot.
As soon as we had collected enough German seamen we set about clearing their
boats of gear, and dumping overboard the food they had brought with them. As
each boat was cleared she was dropped astern and turned over to our drifter to
take care of, orders having been received that all German boats were to be collected
and turned over to the Rear-Admiral, Orkneys and Shetlands. Among them was
a small motor boat, about 25 feet long, which it was decided would do nicely for the
ship. As luck would have it the main derrick was already over the side, while the
fact that the Germans had put a small hole in her, through which she was slowly
filling, provided an excuse for hoisting her in. In due course, therefore, she was
safely deposited on the boat deck. At first there was some doubt as to what should
be done with the boat containing the dead bodies of the German officer and man.
As the examination by the Surgeon Commander had definitely determined that
both were quite dead, it was decided to leave them where they were and to make
the boat fast astern until the hospital boat should arrive to remove them. We also
tried to appropriate another motor boat, with a beautiful little four-cylinder engine,
and had even got as far as hooking her on when unfortunately the Captain saw
it and forbade it, so we were reluctantly compelled to send her away with the
others.
During the embarkation operations the Commander was able to teach the Boches
another salutary lesson-the men this time. A young seaman, a member of the
working party, was carrying a typewriter and proceeded to entertain his comrades
by performing a pas seul down the quarterdeck, balancing his burden on his fingertips, waiter fashion, the while. The Commander saw him and ordered him to stop,
which he did-exactly as long as he was under the eye of authority. The moment
the Commander's back was turned he proceeded with his exhibition. Unfortunately
for him the Commander happened to look his way at the critical moment, and at
once ordered him to be placed under arrest. The next instant he found himself,
much to his surprise, standing up against the after screen between two sentries with
286
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW,
I919
fixed bayonets. As he showed some reluctance to remain where he was, a Warrant
Officer grabbed him by the throat and pushed him into his appointed position with
such violence that he struck his head a severe blow against the steel bulkhead. He
was then left standing there, getting more and more frightened every minute, while
the remainder of the party went on with their job.
It was then about 4.15 p.m. when, as earlier described, the Markgraf sank. At
about the same time the Karlsriihe capsized off Tory Ness, but as she was on the
opposite side of Cava to us we could only see her masts. Tugs had managed to get
the Emden and Frankfurt into Smoogro Bay, where the latter had been beached.
We did not get all the prisoners onboard until after 1700. Among the later arrivals
were several men and an officer who had been in the water. These had removed
their wet garments and were wrapped up in blankets, Indian fashion. Two of the
seamen were in a very bad way, unconscious, and had to be removed to the sick
bay; while two more had evidently taken a vigorous part in the disposing of their
superfluous alcoholic drinks, and were carried over the side in the condition
commonly described as 'blind to the world'. They were placed on the quarterdeck, where they remained inert and apparently lifeless, almost in as bad case, if
not worse, than their half-drowned comrades.
At 1800 I took over charge of the prisoners. A list of all the officers and men
had been prepared with the aid of Kapitanleutnant von Reiche and a German typewriter. When this was complete I was ordered to divide the officers into three
parties, senior and junior commissioned officers, and warrant officers. The four
subordinate officers were to be divided up among the three as the amount of
accommodation available dictated. I had barely got them separated when I observed
that Kapitanleutnant Brauer, of the Seydlitz, and another officer had left their
party and were walking away in the direction of their luggage. Now this Kapitanleutnant Brauer and I had met before when I went round the ships to transfer a
draft which was leaving for Germany, and on that occasion he had seen fit to turn
his back on me in answer to one of my questions; consequently I decided to take
the opportunity to teach him a lesson. I therefore called them both up and demanded
to know why they had left their party without permission. They both looked rather
sheepish, and Brauer replied in rather a surly manner that he wished to get his
overcoat. I then explained to them, possibly in somewhat forcible language, that in
future, when given an order they were to obey it, and then sent them back to their
party. This little matter adjusted, the prisoners were taken to their quarters.
Before continuing, I had better quote verbatim a signal made by the Vice-Admiral
at 1836 regarding the treatment of prisoners:'I consider that by their treachery the German prisoners-of-war have forfeited
their claims to consideration other than the bare requirements of humanity
dictate. They are to be treated with the utmost strictness. Officers are to be
treated similarly to the men, except that they are to be kept apart from them.
Any officer or man speaking to a British officer is to salute him. Men are to
stand to attention when they or their quarters are being inspected by a British
officer. Inspecting British officers are to be accompanied by guards of
sufficient strength to ensure their orders being carried out. Prisoners and their
effects are to be carefully searched and they are to be permitted to retain
nothing but strictly personal property. The prisoners will remain onboard
for the night'.
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW, 1919
287
The prisoners were accommodated as follows: all the commissioned officers and
two subordinate officers were put in the after medical dressing station. The warrant
officers and the other two subordinate officers were distributed between S.6 and S.7
casemates. All the ratings were placed on the forecastle mess deck, which had been
cleared for the purpose. They were given a meal of sorts and then left to their own
devices. Most of them went to sleep. As no bedding was provided they had either
to lie on the bare deck or else sit on the deck and prop their backs against a bulkhead. Some of them selected the former alternative, but some of the older officers
continued to walk up and down all night.
A thing that struck me particularly about the officers was that, in spite of the
fact that they had just destroyed their fleet with their own hands, they showed
the keennest interest in all details of the ship, and when placed below spent quite
a considerable time examining the structure of the compartment they were in,
measuring the thickness of the beams with their fingers and evidently comparing
their methods of construction with ours.
At this time we had onboard 69 officers and 375 men, considerably more than
any other ship in the squadron.
At 2135 the Baden hoisted the white ensign at the masthead with the German
ensign on a long tack inferior, an action greeted with great enthusiasm by ourselves
and considerable chagrin by some of the German officers who happened to be on
deck at the moment. I had noticed that the German officers, while waiting on the
quarterdeck, had been watching the ships still afloat with some anxiety. The sinking
of the Markgraf had caused them momentary satisfaction, but they had almost
immediately returned their attention to the Baden, which obstinately declined to
sink. The-fact that she fell into our hands that dav must have been one of the
bitterest pills they had to swallow, as she was their latest battleship.
The sign from the Baden that all was well was particularly gratifying to us as
we had been in doubt for some time as to what had been happening onboard her.
We had sent her Captain, Chief Engineer, Engineer Warrant Officers and engineroom ratings back under strong escort in the hope that they might be able to help
close the valves by which the ship was flooded, either of their own free will or under
compulsion. That was about 1800, and between then and the time of her hoisting
the white ensign we were completely ignorant of the march of events onboard her.
One rather amusing incident was the release from arrest of the young German
who played the fool with the typewriter. When the German ratings were ready
to be marched to their quarters he was brought aft, still deeply apprehensive of
what was in store for him, and halted between his guards a few paces in front of
them. The guard was then suddenly and unostentatiously removed, leaving him
standing alone in the middle of the quarterdeck. The expression on his face became
one of bewilderment, then slowly changed to intense relief, and he quickly disappeared in the crowd, which roared with laughter at him. I think that he was
firmly convinced, until released, that he was about to suffer some very severe
punishment.
At 2100 the First Lieutenant returned with his party and told us what had
happened in the Markgraf. When he arrived onboard she was lying fairly deep in
the water, the main deck scuttles being nearly awash, and with a 5 degrees list to
port. He sent the engine-room ratings under our Lieutenant (E) to investigate
below, and then set to with the seamen to close main and upper deck scuttles.
-
288
SCUTTLING OF THE INTERNED GERMAN FLEET AT SCAPA FLOW,
1919
Finding it impossible to get below, all hands turned to to close all accessible
scuttles, hatches and watertight doors. These last presented some difficulty, as they
had all been lashed open with stout hemp lashings. This operation completed, it
was decided to try and tow her into shallow water. At the time the ship was riding
by the starboard cable. The compressor* was therefore put back, the slip knocked
off, and the cable holder set to 'Free', without result. It was therefore concluded
that the cable holder was connected up to the capstan engine. As it was impossible,
with the inadequate gear available, to haul up enough cable to throw it clear of the
cable holder, the only alternative appeared to be to part the cable. Owing to the
strain on it, it was found impossible to knock off any of the joining shackles, so it
was necessary to resort to force. For this purpose the destroyer Vectis and two
drifters were lashed alongside, and then went ahead. The ship gathered way until,
at a speed of about four knots, she brought up to her cable with a violent jerk.
Unfortunately the cable held and the tow parted. At the same time a loud crash
was heard as one of the main bulkheads forward collapsed, and the ship immediately
commenced to heel rapidly to port. The boarding party only just had time to
abandon her before she sank.
A little later Commander (G) and his party returned, having handed over the
Baden to the Resolution, which was to remain behind while we took the prisoners
south to Invergorden, and from them we learnt further details.
Before she was boarded, the seamen ratings were divided into four parties, each
under a midshipman, with orders to close all scuttles and deadlights and to report
if they found water entering any compartment. As soon as they had boarded her
a thorough search was begun, commencing forward. The capstan engine flat was
found to be flooded, so the hatches over it were closed down. Various inlets and
valves were closed in the boiler rooms. Aft, they found their way down a hatch
which appeared to lead down to the steering and tiller flats and shaft tunnels, the
port side. They got as far as a passage, containing a number of electrical meters,
and found water pouring into it from outside compartmenis and through a doorway
in it into a large comp&tment situated inboard of it and on the deck below, which
appeared to contain the tiller gear. The three watertight doors connecting these
three compartments were lashed open. These were at once closed. They then
made their way to the starboard side, where they found a similar state of affairs.
All doors were closed. This was accomplished with considerable difficulty, as there
were already four feet of water in the passage, which was filling rapidly. Shortly
after they regained the upper deck the lights, which until then had been burning
brightly, failed.
An examination of a weight line which had been hung over the side to mark the
position of the waterline at the time of their arrival showed that she had not settled
more than two or three inches. It was therefore concluded that the ship was in no
immediate danger of sinking, so a more thorough search was commenced. At the
same time proper marks were placed on the ship's side to allow of a more correct
estimate being made of the rate at which the ship was sinking. A similar plan was
adopted in partially flooded compartments.
* Compressors, the purpose of which was to secure the cable when a ship was at anchor, were
fitted in ships of the Royal Navy up to about 1915. Thereafter, riding slips were used in
their stead.
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
289
At this point the German Captain of the ship and some Engineer officers and
ratings arrived onboard. An attempt was then made to start up one of the diesel
dynamos, but was unsuccessful. An extra guard, under the First Lieutenant, which
arrived at the same time as the prisoners, was sent on to the forecastle and, with the
aid of blacksmiths, prepared the cables for slipping should it become necessary to
tow the ship into shallow water.
Instructions were then received to turn the ship over to the Resolution, which had
already sent a guard onboard. At the time of turning over to the Resolution the ship
only appeared to be making water at the rate of one inch every two hours. According
to her own officers, the doors of the forward submerged torpedo tubes had been
opened, and one of the stern glands had been eased back. After further questioning
of these officers, it was decided that a good deal more could be done towards lightening
the ship if steam were raised in one of the boilers. A German warrant officer and
five German stokers were therefore sent below to do so. Ultimately steam was
raised in one boiler. A search also revealed that one diesel dynamo engine was still
running, and this machine was kept going for three hours. This enabled the electric
light to be utilised and materially assisted the salvage work. Progress was also made
in ascertaining which compartments were flooded or otherwise, and in shutting off
valves. The ship was then handed over to the Resolution's officers.
W.M.P.H.
Ocean Convoy, 1943-45-111
P
ORT SAID, terminus for our convoys, had not the space for an assembly port:
its problem was ever to avoid being overcrowded with ships and men.
Alexandria, 100 miles away by sea or land, was the naval base, shortly to house a
C.-in-C. East Mediterranean in addition to an Admiral of the Dockyard with a
Naval Control Officer, Intelligence Officer, etc., able to supply all the needs of
Commodores. Port Said at least had telephone communication with Alexandria
and, using it at the risk of being importunate to naval officers with much else to do,
I contrived to get there and ensure some contact with the authorities, and a conference of sorts for my westbound convoy. I was thus able to make sure of a British
ship for my flagship-and a well-found one of a well-known line-larger than most
in our Mediterranean convoys, which were mostly oldish cargo ships or liberty ships.
Again we were lucky as regards being left alone by the enemy, but what with everchanging orders for 'leavers' and 'joiners' to be briefed and sorted out afresh, and the
abundance of corners to be turned, there was not a dull moment. The Master was
a sandy-haired ruddy little man who hailed from the Orkneys and had worked
himself up the hard way to commanding a fair-sized liner. He did everything he
could to get out of being Commodore's ship, and when we'd become friends
290
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
confessed he'd always disliked the Navy. However, he knew his job and had several
experienced officers, and their accurate navigating was an immediate relief to me,
after my recent posing as an expert while I was trying to recall an art I had never
fully mastered. The skipper was a bit dour the first day, but soon, like most men,
ready to talk of his trade and himself. We finished the trip without a clash and, as
friends, hoping to meet again. His contacts with the Navy had actually been rare. A
few one-way conversations listening to brusque orders shouted through a megaphone,
and no doubt annoying to anybody wishing to answer back. Nevertheless I think
like many others he accepted the necessity of the Navy taking charge on those
occasions when merchant ships attend on the Navy. Several Masters have told me
their strongest memories of the Royal Navy are of being bawled at. Yet in my
opinion after two years of occasionally intimate contact with Merchant Service officers
young and old, I think their antipathy to naval officers has deeper cause than occasional
'bawling out' and begins early. There were apprentices in that ship-three nice
lively lads-as good material for officers and leaders as any R.N. Midshipman, but
their work was very different-rougher and tougher. They studied books for coming
exams, though how they found the time I know not. They seemed to be given all
the dirtier jobs the hands might dislike. They scrubbed the deck, painted the masteverything-and usually better than the seamen. I n the Britannia we were given
only a glimpse of a seaman's part in sailing a boat, handling sail aloft (in '98), at a
gun, and how to make knots and splices. Certainly we did not scrub the decks, clean
brasswork or handle a paint brush, though I remember a few such tasks being given
t o midshipmen as a punishment. We were less good officers for these omissions,
and there was often a taint of snobbery in midshipmen's training. Max Horton,
who did a term or longer in the Conway before joining the Britannia, continued to
train himself in the tougher way. Nevertheless the reason why young officers from
men-of-war and merchant ships so seldom meet is the brutal difference in their lots
when their ships reach port. In the Navy it is holiday time, sport and the pleasures
of being entertained. For the apprentices and young officers of the Merchant Service,
harder work than ever with cargo. The Navy, at any rate before World War I, when
few were married, were made a fuss of wherever they went. The Merchant Servicewhen they did get ashore-were unnoticed; more often they worked cargo while
daylight lasted, and beyond. The first war killed much of the amiable snobbishness
that hung round the Senior Service, but only temporarily. Even after the second
war, there are plenty of snobs left, especially mothers who enquire about the relative
social values of straight and wavy stripes, and the status of engineers compared to
executives, etc. During the second war I hoped the young men and women doing
the job had knocked all that on the head for good. In peace-time many girls, or
their mothers, used to turn up their noses at young merchant ships' officers when
their naval cousins were about, and that is a strong reason for masculine antipathy,
.even if the Navy did not think much of such girls.
Back at Gibraltar I was delighted to see my friend from Ulster and chose his
ship for my next eastward trip. He was in a brand new ship but unluckily her brand
new engines gave trouble, and after several hours of 'Will she-won't she-start ?'
she missed our convoy despite the gallant efforts of a British submarine to encourage
her faulty compressor. I had to leave the Irishman in deep depression and be
whisked off with my staff to the airport, in the hopes of catching the convoy at
Algiers. This was an interesting varhtion, not less so after listening to a drawled
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
29I
but forceful battle between the young American pilot and the R.A.F. about the
loading of the plane. This was normally an R.A.F. responsibility, but our Dakota
was on a private shuttle service run from Algiers and anyway the pilot was very
definite on what he considered too much load. The harassed R.A.F. corporal,
running to and from an invisible officer in charge, came by stages from peremptory
orders to appeal till, finally repulsed by the pilot, he ordered one of my signalmen
out. I chipped in and said all or none as far as my unit was concerned, and in the
end an angry major and his sergeant were dropped. Having heard discussion as
to whether the runway was long enough, and how General Sikorski's plane had
crashed not long before, I was interested watching our take-off. Remembering the
feel of a Moth lifting at a mere 50 m.p.h., this one seemed to gather speed slowly,
and in fact got off only at the very end of the runway, but the pilot though he looked
tired out, knew very well what he was doing. In three or four minutes he had
wheeled her on to her course, turned her over to his No. 2 and was fast asleep on
the mail bags. In a couple of hours we were over the convoy, which looked tidy
and tiny beneath us, and a little later landed at the big American airport south of
Algiers. Of recent growth, it was a great contrast to crowded, constricted Gib.,
and the American organisation seemed remarkably efficient in their own casual
fashion. The N.C.O. car for us was late, but the Americans politely and promptly
provided me with two, and got us to the N.C.O.'s Office long before we were
expected. There was much I wished to learn at Algiers, and it was annoying to be
kept hanging about, and then hustled into a frigate without seeing anyone who
mattered. When the frigate got a signal to say that the existing Commodore was
to remain in charge, and that I was to go in the frigate to Alexandria, I was still
more annoyed. I was also apprehensive that in such a small craft, if we met any
sort of a blow, I should be seasick and disgrace my generation in the eyes of the
young. However, the Mediterranean was kind and so was everyone in the frigate,
and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing again a small ship's wardroom in war-time. On
reaching Alexandria, we were put straight on board a Dutch ship and before sunset
had got a small convoy into formation and straightened out for Cyrenaica. The
Dutchman had a more than full complement of experienced officers, all of whom
spoke good English, and made a very efficient flagship. The Captain, a genial,
enormously fat man, very seldom came up on the bridge, and spent most of his time
thinking out and devouring gargantuan meals. There were four or five middle-aged
soldiers on board who were able to appreciate his overwhelming hospitality better
than I was. He was really hurt when I would not sit through all the courses of a
meal, and broken-hearted when I could not come down. He undoubtedly thought
me fussy, for the weather was fine and on some days there was little to do. However
quite apart from enemy action, the smallest mishaps in convoys are always the better
for being dealt with instantly. My yeoman and the Dutch officers of the watch were
both first rate and reliable, yet even when the Mediterranean was most peaceful
the Commodore ought to be on the bridge. So the Captain had to bring his elaborate
menus up to the bridge and discuss them with relish in advance, frequently sending
for his chief steward when some embellishment occurred to him. In spite of his
tantalizing obsession about food, I got quite fond of this stout Dutchman of about
my own age. He had got his ship away to England at the time of his country's
invasion, and had been completely cut off from his home. He showed me the
photographs of his two sons-one he believed to have been killed in the 'underground'.
292
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
The other was a doctor and he feared for him under Nazi rule. 'He is very independent'. When I was about to enquire of his wife, he said quickly 'My wife-she
is German' in a tone quiet but decisively dismissing the whole Teutonic race. Yet
he seemed genuinely merry and though drinking his very good wines freely, never
gave the impression of drowning his feelings. All the Dutch officers seemed to be
very well paid, and he told me he had a nice small house near London and had
found a very good friend-an Englishwoman-to make it comfortable for him.
He was a friendly and I felt a determined character. Our stock joke was that I
would come down to one of his tremendous meals-always celebrating somethingif he would promise to walk to the top of the Rock with me. It had become my
chief recreation during idle days at Gibraltar to climb the Rock, often twice a day,
by an endless variety of routes, some surprisingly flowery and all ending with a
breath-taking view. Eventually I had to wangle a car to get him up to see it.
8. THEBILLIKEN
As the next eastward bound convoy was nearing Gibraltar I learnt I was going
to have a British A.A. cruiser as escort as far as Galita and that she was commanded
by an old acquaintance who, on my telephoning him, asked me to lunch. He had
not been very long in command, but since the A.A. ships were priority targets for
the LuftwafTe, and much wanted wherever there was trouble, he'd seen plenty of
tough fighting. His ship had escaped severe damage but often by narrow margins,
and he had no doubts about the German pilots being as confident and skilful as
when they had had it all their own way. My host had been Flag Lieutenant in China
when I had been in command of a submarine flotilla twenty years earlier, and a
busy st& officer to my late C.-in-C. before getting to sea on promotion to Captain.
I had developed some ideas about the defence of a convoy but, since none of mine
had been seriously attacked, naturally kept them to myself and listened to the
young veteran who took himself and his responsibilities with proper seriousness,
as well as the Luftwaffe. At the conference I found the Gibraltar section included
some ships labelled 'valuable' and therefore given numbers in the centre of the
convoy. On sailing I was surprised at a British warship following me out of the bay
and to be told only then that she was to join me. The 'security' that forbade me to
know that a 'valuable' man-of-war was coming under my charge prevented me
meeting her Captain-an old friend-of much experience in escorting Murmansk
convoys and elsewhere. Half an hour with him would have meant a lot to me, but
I was only to know who was in command on reaching Alexandria, after I had found
his ship most helpful as a repeating ship throughout the passage. The Captain of
my own ship was a little man, rounded but not heavy like my Dutch friend, and
puckishly cheerful. He had a habit of sitting cross-legged tailor wise on his charthouse settee, and I mentally labelled him 'The Billiken' on our first evening. His
ship, too, was named as 'valuable' and, manned by Goans, was carrying home
the Goan survivors of a torpedoed ship who had been waiting at Gibraltar for one
of their own line. I took over from the U.S. Commodore at daylight and by dusk
we were past Oran and beginning to hug the coastline on our silly single track. The
Commodore, especially when receiving 'joiners', is usually hard pressed to get all
his signals made before dark, and we had already found the ex-Flag Lieutenant
in the A.A. ship a trifle too chatty. The senior officer of the escort commands when
enemy action enters the picture, and signals from him should concern nothing else,
OCEAN CONVOY, 1943-45
=93
and must have priority, which means the Commodore breaking off whatever signal
he is making. An A.A. ship is often a temporary addition, but being a Captain
and Senior Officer his words are weightier even than the S.O. Escort's. When one
has at last got hold of some ship for an urgent message, and she has only one officer
who can read morse (all have some knowledge, but in many ships only one is
practised and is summoned when the ship is called up) it is maddening to have to
break off without explanation and start afresh later. Few men-of-war realised that
a Commodore had only five signalmen all told and often only one lamp, and that
it is always vexatious to receive a signal that is not essential.
As dusk turned to night without the air attack our cruiser had told us to expect,
the first disturbance of our pleasant Mediterranean yachting burst upon us. One
of my signalmen called out 'White light fine on starboard bow' and a few seconds
later another appeared close behind the first. I could see them, low down and
closing rapidly, and knew they must be small craft on the opposite course on our
single track, or else small fishing boats. I said to the Captain at my elbow, "They'll
have to comb through-you can edge a little to port to give her more room-not
more than five degrees'. At the same time I ordered 'Switch on navigation lights',
which took perhaps five seconds, followed by all ships in perhaps twenty to thirty
seconds more. The white light, now little more than 100 yards away, started to
flash at us, and the unknown simultaneously showed her red light as she turned
to starboard towards us. Within a few more seconds there was a loud crash about
forty feet before the bridge. Darting to the edge of the bridge and looking down I
could see in the sickly green glow of our starboard light what looked like the side
of an overturned barge. It must have had at least 200 tons behind it, but I did not
think the bump heavy enough to have done us serious damage and was full of
apprehension for the smaller craft-the leader of others passing through our lines.
This increased when the after lookout rushed up to the Captain and reported that
he had seen her off our quarter, bottom up, just as our engineer officer reported
the ship was not making water. The noise of tearing wood and iron had lasted
a couple of seconds and as it ceased there came from below the bridge an uncanny
sound-not loud shouting, but a mass sigh 'AY-YAH' from many voices. It was
oddly like off-stage music, gentle and despairing, and emanated from the crowded
Goanese in the big mess room right under the bridge, who, mostly survivors,
evidently thought they had been torpedoed again. The note of resignation was
pathetic and rather frightening. Our little Captain was neither resigned nor
frightened, and quickly had his crew busy assessing and making good the damage.
I signalled by wireless to the S.O. Escort 'Have been in collision with small craft
now astern of me probably capsized; please investigate'. Meanwhile we had switched
off our navigation lights and were concentrating on making our first alteration of
course by night, switching on again briefly when we did so. On inspection we decided
that our assailant must have been a tank landing craft who had hit us with his
powerful gantry, which overhung his bows, tearing a hole in us well above the waterline. The craft must have been forcibly turned to starboard by our superior weight
before disengaging in disorder bottom up, or on her beam ends, as far as we could
judge. The gantry had torn a hole roughly 20 feet long and 4 feet high in the side
of our No. 2 hold. The lower edge of it was nearly 5 feet above the waterline, and
the immediate job for us was to close the hole before the weather worsened. The
hold had to be one-third cleared to get at the damage, but the task was simplified
294
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
by the size of the hole, enabling packages and drums, some of which had been
crushed, to be pushed through it-out and overboard. By daylight I was able to
tell the S.O. Escort and our cruiser that the hold was being made sufficiently
seaworthy to enable us to complete our passage to Port Said. During the night
the Escort signalled that two T.L.C.s had been damaged, with men injured, but
since none were missing I, who had had a distressing momentary glimpse of a ship's
naked underside, was greatly relieved.
Later in the forenoon of the following day wisps of smoke rising from No. 2 hold
warned us that our troubles might not yet be over. The source of the smoke could
not be seen, still less got at, without a much greater clearance of the miscellaneous
stores in the hold, so a hose was rigged and water poured upon it causing the smoke
to subside. Before long, however, smoke started to rise again and, after sniffing it,
the Captain ordered the hold to be cleared and told me his reason. He had diagnosed
the trouble as originating from a whitish powdery dust, from canisters labelled
'R.A.F.', which had been crushed by the collision. These drums were made of
some lightweight patent material, easy to handle, but which had not stood up to
the loading rough and tumble too well, quite apart from the few crushed in the
collision. The contents suggested lime or carbide to me and were evidently combustible. At the bottom of this 'mixed' hold were army lorries, with slings in place
and their petrol tanks full, ready to drive off. Smart work by the R.A.S.C., but less
praiseworthy to the Billiken, who had to prevent the smouldering mixture at the
bottom of No, 2 hold bursting into flames. He also told me that No. 1 hold was
full of ammunition, which lent urgency to the clearing of the hold and prevention
of a major fire in No. 2. The extra crew provided plenty of hands and the work at
first went well, everybody turning valuable Army and R.A.F. stores overboard to
the accompaniment of laughter and singing. Nevertheless it was awkward and
tiring, and the deeper they got into the big hold the more difficult and arduous it
became. The Goanese began to complain of the fumes, and I noticed the Captain's
absences from the bridge-were more frequent and prolonged, though I had little
idea that the difficulties were serious, or more than a matter of time. I was fully
occupied as we neared Algiers, and signals about 'leavers' and 'joiners' had got
behind-hand. My A.A. protector was troubled, and troubling me. He had
evidently been informed of enemy air attack approaching, and followed up a signal
'Enemy air attack expected' by 'Please warn all ships to be ready to make smoke'.
Both signals naturally seemed important to him, if less so to me. I was convinced
that warnings of impending attack, unaccompanied by orders for definite and
immediate action to be taken, were futile and psychologically wrong. Anyway,
I had not time to pass signals to so many ships, unless they could be expressed
in the simple two flag signals received and obeyed by all ships simultaneously. His
signals had meant an accumulation of waiting messages on our bridge and, in the
midst of our efforts to reduce this, a bombshell arrived, not from the enemy but
from my best friend. A tired Billiken climbed to the upper bridge, with the
customary smile wiped off his face. 'I'll have to go into Algiers'. 'What', I gasped,
'it would be chaos'. I had no need to tell him all it meant from the Commodore's
point of view and realised he had not come to the decision easily. I started signals
off to the S.O. Escort (please repeat to A.A. ship) and my 'Stand-by' Commodore
in the Frenchman to say 'captain informs me fire dangerous in No. 2 hold-ship
must proceed into Algiers', and then gave the Billiken my reasons why he should
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
=95
change his mind. It was blowing too fresh for me to shift to another ship, and with
'leavers' about to break off, 'joiners' already in sight, an alteration of course imminent
and with the press of signals for me or a successor already formidable, to leave the
convoy leaderless at such time seemed to me desertion and disaster. Billiken had
said the Goans were worn out and that his chief officer had presented him with
what amounted to an ultimatum to the effect that the officers all agreed that the
ship ought to go into Algiers. I had already known from what the Captain had said,
or perhaps from what he had not said, about his chief officer-that he was a poor
specimen of the 'pool' type. His own Chief had broken his leg just before sailing
and he had had no alternative but to apply to the 'pool'. It was clear that his lack
of leadership and excessive talk of what might happen if the fire got out of control
had scared the officers and was demoralising the men under them. My chief point
and one perhaps fresh to the Billiken was that his ship would be no safer going in.
Safety wholly depended on clearing the hold before a smouldering fire burst inta
flames. I said I was sure the ship on fire and carrying ammunition would not be
allowed into the inner harbour, or quickly supplied with either an efficient fire
brigade or dock labour. If allowed to anchor they would still have to put it out
themselves. I felt that he himself was all for tackling the situation without appealing
to the French for help, and I followed up with 'Can't you put the rotter out of itcall for volunteers, and put your best man in charge'. I already knew him for a
pugnacious personality, loth to give in, and to submit his ship to indefinite delay
in Algiers, but I also knew that after such a representation by his officers, his own
responsibility if things went wrong was grave and might mean his personal ruin.
To lighten a heavy moment I shewed him a signal I was writing out and held in
my hand for our A.A. cruiser. She had interrupted once more with a priority signal
'Air attack imminent', and I, trying to pass operational signals to my ships, was
exasperated. Mine read 'At this moment I would regard an air attack as a welcome
diversion'. This got a smile out of Billiken but he looked grim as he turned away,
saying '1'11 have a try', and went down the ladder. As usual at crowded moments,
the whole of my small team of signalmen were on the bridge, getting through the
batch of priority signals. Each of them had been on watch part of the night and
most of the day, but all, under the direction and lead of Roxburgh, were enjoying
themselves, as men do when they can see the object of their labours, and the results.
I had done all I could, but the thought that the team through whom I had been
handling more than half a million tons of shippping, were signalling my abdication,
was shattering. I was no doubt exaggerating the chaos that I foresaw to the convoy
and especially our indispensability, but it seemed sheer desertion in face of the
enemy. The situation was passing out of my control, and I felt I must go down
to my unused little cabin under the bridge and get a few quiet moments to myself.
There I soon realised my own trouble was largely personal vanity and that the
Billiken's was concrete and urgent and that he needed help more than I did. If I
had thought at all about the danger to the ship, it was 'Ships do blow up, but it can't
happen to me; anyway it's the Captain's baby, and he's a good one to see to itY.
Seeing things clearer and smaller I left the tiny cabin readier to face what came next.
I found the signalmen not yet through with all the signals, and it seemed no time
before the Billiken ran up the ladder looking his tough cheery self, 'We're having
a go'. He saw my relief and knew my 'Thank God' thanked him too. He had cheered
up everybody by openly crushing his Chief-the source of the trouble-and
296
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
organising gangs under a Yorkshireman, head of our DEMS gunners. I got busy
cancelling the signals turning over my charge and getting back to our routine
arrears, which we barely finished in daylight. The 'joiners' slipped into their places,
no air attack developed and we negotiated our turn in good order. My A.A. friend
made no more signals, but he had not been amused by mine. It was a silly and
redundant signal, as I was well aware, and I should assuredly have torn it up without
sending it if it had not fitted so pat into the Billiken's crisis. It crossed my mind to
cancel it, but he had just left the bridge and I felt such a deception insincere. The
Billiken meant more to me than the Captain of the cruiser. The latter, as a good
staff officer, wrote an excellent solemn memorandum to the C.-in-C. reporting
that merchant ships and Commodores of convoy were not taking precautions
against air attack sufficiently seriously, and quoted my signal as a flagrant example
of this distressing tendency. I was sent a copy, but without comment by the C.-in-C.
I was under the impression at the time that A. B. Cunningham was our C.-in-C. but
he may have been relieved by John Cunningham. Both were masters of the art
of imparting a little humour into an exchange of signals, as classical examples in
Broome's 'Make a signal' show, but it is not wise for lesser men to essay it. I think
my signal telling of our fire being out of control may never have reached the A.A.
Captain, which must have made my untimely flippancy seem stupid bravado.
Billiken was able to go down himself to the hold, where his lascars were throwing
valuable Government stores overboard with renewed enthusiasm. The fresh offshore breeze helped to clear away the fumes, though happily it did not raise seas
high enough to break in through the gaping hole out of which canisters were flopping
into the water.
Before midnight, progress was such that Billiken could tell me he was confident
it would be completed, and he was going to allow himself some sleep. Soon after
daylight the hold was cleared sufficiently to quench the last of the smouldering
dunnage and enable me to forget No. 2 hold. Our A.A. ship turned away and I
made him a signal of farewell, thanking him for the protection of his presence, to
which he replied by wishing me all the diversions I wanted-which left him one up.
With a good escort, a keen captain and navigator the rest of the passage along the
French African shore was delightful, after our rather prolonged struggle with the
threat of fire and the extra load of signals from our zealous cruiser. On the bridge
all round the clock, occupied but not overworked, with plenty of time to gossip
with a sailor of the highest quality, I enjoyed every minute of it. The Billiken was
a grand little man, full, as all of his kind, of good talk of exciting or out-of-the-way
experiences, and also with quiet but firm opinions of a wider range than usual for
mariners. Like other masters, he envied the disciplinary powers of the Navy, but
he was readier than most to believe me when I insisted that we depended more on
our interest in the welfare of the men than on the rod. Shocked one day by some
foul accommodation in another British ship, I asked a seaman 'Have you asked the
Captain to do something about i t ? His reply was terse: 'Ask the officers ? They
can't look after themselves'. In good lines and good ships things are better, but
in the tramp class, of which I saw most, the conditions for men and officers were
shocking, and the relations between them unco-operative. When continuous service
in a ship was imposed by circumstance, either a communal loyalty developed or
downright enmity. I fear that few merchant sailors believed that naval officers
really bothered much about the men's welfare, or realised the mutual obligations
OCEAN CONVOY, 1943-45
297
that bind those who serve in the Royal Navy. The lack of the power to deal with
a defiant misfit in a merchant ship makes discipline difficult-well nigh impossible.
The old type skipper used his fists, but even the strongest personality today can be
defeated by the new type of young sea lawyer. All masters cherish tales of their
early (often shockingly hard) days, and especially of the varied ways they made a
little money on the side. One of Billiken's was exceptional, and I wish my senile
memory could do it more justice. He was chief officer under an ageing captain
whom he despised and mistrusted. In South American waters the latter put his
ship ashore, either by gross incompetence or ingenious design; the cargo of sugar
was only slightly affected, and Billiken led his crew through strenuous days in
tropical heat transferring the bulk of the cargo to lighten the ship. During the
prolonged salvage operations, the Captain, already overfond of the bottle, spent his
time with the dago boss of the salvage craft. The climax was reached when the
Captain demanded his Chief Officer's signature to a document which declared all
or most of the many tons of sugar to have been spoiled and disposed of overboard.
Billiken refused in terms which made it clear he was not to be bribed. This was
the part of the story he enjoyed-but the only one. The Captain got home first
and Billiken, after months of hard and responsible work getting the ship he had
saved into dock for repairs, returned to find himself under a cloud on a heavily
adverse report from the master. Whether in disgust he did not fight his case, or
whether the owners believed it, but decided they could not re-open a complicated
issue of insurance, or of implicating foreigners, I don't know. I doubt if the rogue
of a Captain got his share from the swindle, but Billiken had to start afresh in a
different line.
From Cape Bon to Derna, the comparatively open sea section of the route, if
there was not a dull moment, it was in my recollection more thanks to Billiken
than the enemy or our valuable charges. The momentarily important petty crises
of the convoy have faded and only a vivid memory of my gay stout supporter remains
of him sitting cross-legged, filling long or short lulls in signals, with apt and amusing
stories of past emergencies featuring other people's feats of seamanship more than
his own.
Approaching Derna the customary warnings of possible air attacks were varied
by a more definite report of a submarine near our next day's track; like all these
well-meant warnings, there was nothing we could do about it except hope he would
not keep the appointment. There was little scope and no question of diversion on
our track, and only on the open stretch was zigzagging practicable. Zigzagging in
a 9-knot convoy I personally regarded as a waste of time under almost all conditions
in the Mediterranean. In the Atlantic, while submarines and not aircraft were the
greater menace, it was another story, though even there many other submarine
officers share my opinion that its value against trained U-boat captains was slight.
Though not convinced that H.Q. information about submarine danger was much
more ominous than their unfulfilled warnings of air attack, I thought this might be
Fritz's compliment to this convoy. I t was the most valuable, if the most compact
and well drilled one that I remember, so it seemed possible that one of the not very
numerous U-boats might have been diverted from the vital but well guarded ships
in the front line off Italy. Next afternoon, having made the Cyrenaican coast and
altered to our coast-wise track, in a flat calm sea, we were making a good ten knots
past the reported last known position of Fritz, twenty miles or so to the north.
298
OCEAN CONVOY,
1943-45
Billiken had laid down in the charthouse for the after lunch nap, and I was sitting
in a chair on the compass platform on the upper bridge, surveying my charges with
more complacence than the owner of the finest yacht. In khaki shirt and shorts,
in bright sunlight, just sufficiently tempered by the headwind of our own making,
it seemed hardly right that, unlike a yacht owner, I should be paid for such a
pleasant picnic. Leading the third column to the starboard of me was a fine French
liner carrying troops and the Vice-Commodore, my old friend whom I knew would
be making the most of French hospitality. I fancied he was more likely to be
envying me than I him, but was uncertain if he realised how near he had been to
taking my place. Two Hunt class destroyers had reinforced our escort that morning,
underlining the threat of the submarine warning. Without any signal within my
ken, they suddenly turned inwards from their screening position ahead of the
convoy and slipped at high speed through our columns, disappearing to the northward. A few minutes later I was roused from my peaceful contemplation of an
armada in good array making their way east upon a painted ocean, by a shout from
a lookout, 'Periscope five degrees red'. In the glassy calm the officer of the watch
and I were instantly able to pick up the object of the lookout's report. Having
spent several years identifying the periscopes of submarines exercising in peace,
and heard quite a few reports of periscopes in war, I almost said 'Rubbish' before
looking. Out of what may have totalled 100 alarms, not one had proved genuine,
but this time I gasped with astonishment, had one glance through my rarely used
binoculars, and exclaimed 'By gad, it is!' and then shouted 'Emergency turn to
port'. What I saw was a feather of spray, about 250 yards away, moving swiftly
(for a submarine) across our bows. I could glance at the nearest ships' mastheads
and see the flags breaking out, and the white puffs of their sirens as they repeated
our 15-second blast, and yet keep the white plume in sight. With the ships quickly
responding, I ordered two short blasts 'Turn to port 45 degrees all ships together'.
The feather had remained visible as we swung to port, and the hope that my neighbouring leader might ram the submarine began to displace my fear, and expectation
of a torpedo exploding against her. As the seconds passed and no explosion occurrea,
I felt convinced from the speed and duration of that white feather that the submarine
must have been temporarily out of control, and that she had at any rate lost her
best chance. I ordered a second emergency turn to port, and in a very few minutes
from the first shout all ships were in single line steering north; this would take
them soonest out of the submarine's original position and leave the area clear for my
escort. I had jumped to the conclusion from past experience of the climaxes of
many submarine attacks that on firing a salvo from a perfect attacking position,
Fritz had temporary difficulty in getting down for the normal evasive action after
firing. For incalculable seconds I had waited for the thump, or series of thumps
that would have told of hits on one or more of our leaders, whose bows were swinging
towards the danger. If, as I feared, she had fired before the lookout saw her hits
were inevitable, and my spirits mounted as the swing reduced the length of the
targets. The absence of any sickening thump, and the prompt and lovely wheel into
line of those big ships, brought me from apprehension to relief in less than five
minutes, which seemed more like seconds, and my thoughts turned to the chances
of the escort getting Fritz, as anxiety for my transports passed. The movements
of the ships, turning together in response to rapid orders, with the precision and
unity of Guards, and the hope of being personally instrumental in the elimination
OCEAN CONVOY, 1943-45
=99
of a U-boat, gave me the best thrill of two long wars. Unfortunately, such moments
are brief, and apt to turn out illusions. The S.O. Escort, in reply to my signal
giving him the time and position of the periscope sighting, made 'I think your
submarine was a shoal of fish'. Exaltation turned to rage, and I retorted that I had
seen it myself and had spent my life at spotting periscopes. Meanwhile, as I brought
the convoy back to our course I cross-examined all those who had seen our periscope.
The Officer of the Watch said he thought there was a small dark object at the base
and centre of the plume of spray thrown up, and that it was moving across our bows
at five to six knots, which exactly confirmed my own impression. Most of the
others, in varying terms, said much the same, and then a Petty Officer, who had
been on the foc'sle, in a phrase stirred my own recollection and started puzzling
doubts in my mind. The P.O. said 'Yes, I saw 'em, two of 'em, moving across,
as plain as anything'. I recalled that I had seen a second streak of white, and gained
my impression of a submarine striving to go deep, her propeller wash showing,
but with my glasses on the leading feather I had only glimpsed the rear one. My
hopes of a ship reporting having rammed something faded, the S.O. Escort, an
experienced R.N.R. Commander, had not rushed in for the kill, so all chance of it
had gone. The submarine had certainly behaved inefficiently, or oddly, and my
original certainty dwindled as I pondered. The S.O. Escort, though he had not
told me of them, had good grounds for his suspicions.
The cruiser Birmingham, some miles to the north of our track, had been torpedoed
by the submarine already reported, and our two Hunts had hurried to her aid. It
was unlikely that a second would be operating in the same area. I saw the Birmingham
tacked on in our rear next morning. She had been hit forward, causing a sad number
of casualties trapped in the fore mess deck, and though badly down by the bows
she had been capable of 17 knots to join up with us. I only heard what had happened
when I reached Alexandria later, but my own searching post-mortem had reluctantly
led to the conclusion that the S.O. was right about my submarine. The solution
of that fast moving white feather suddenly dawned upon me, as I reconstructed the
timing of those busy minutes-the interruption of our siesta. With the lookout's
shout I had forgotten the passing of the two destroyers, which seemed a separate
and long-past event; actually it had been only a few minutes. I had often seen the
wakes of two ships meeting on a flat calm surface: at times a small dark hump,
suddenly becoming a small breaking wave rippling along the breakwater of the
lesser wake. The ships originating the wakes were out of sight and mind, and the
two converging lines, if conspicuous from a plane, were only inches high, invisible
from bridge level until they met and formed the small white plume, absurdly like
that thrown up by the top of a periscope just awash. The Billiken, with whom in
discussion I thrashed out the problem, thought me weak to discard for a mere
theory the evidence of my own eyes, in which I had at the time complete confidence.
However, I was thankful that in my written report I admitted doubts about my
periscope, especially on arrival when I learned of the definite submarine attack
on the Birmingham, which had indirectly led to the feather causing our scare and
brief elation.
We were spared our usual running jump out of our flagship at Port Said. I had
passed a message from the Billiken to his owners, saying he would need hull repairs
before entering the Indian Ocean, and asking the S.N.O. to give him a berth. I
parted from the Billiken feeling I had known him for years. With several other
300
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
Captains I reached intimacy after two or three days of the close company of a bridge,
but with none have I regretted so much that conditions of retirement precluded
further acquaintance. I put in my report of proceedings a brief account of the
collision and subsequent dangerous fire, and my appreciation of the master's
accepting a responsibility for the good of the convoy that could have been faulted
by his owners. Knowing that nobody of importance ever read Commodore's reports,
I took the opportunity of old acquaintance with the new C.-in-C. East Mediterranean
to tell him of the incident, and ask him, if possible, to commend my friend Billiken.
Knowing the press of paper work and recommends that V.1.P.s must deal with,
and how much of it concerned more actively operational matters, I could not be
sure anything would come of it. I also brought it up with the C.-in-C.'s helpful Chief
of St&, representing that the Billiken's personal efforts had saved his ship from
disaster and the convoy from chaos. But there were then so many merchant ship
officers awaiting recognition for gallant deeds under enemy fire that I felt my hero
himself might not desire any importunity on his behalf. I hoped that some official
pat on the back might reach that grand little man, but fancy he would laugh if it
did, and not care a rap if it did not. A strong but humble character-a good person
to have alongside in time of trouble. Whenever I hear of a British merchant ship's
fine feat of seamanship, in the news, the Billiken springs to mind, a typical master
and one of the best of a good type.
C. G. BRODIE
Glimpses from a Dark-blue Bus
T
HE thing that always seems so astonishing at the beginning of a course is the
way that, as soon as you dress up as a Lieutenant-Commander, people assume
that you really are a Lieutenant-Commander, and your neighbour at lunch prattles
gaily of 'Type Fourteens' and 'ARL tables', and 'passive Homers', as if you had
the foggiest idea of what he was talking about, or really could tell a SAU from a
TIU, or a CIP from a CAP; whereas in fact, for all that penetrates, one might as
well have last gone to sea in the days of sail.
As a matter of fact, this plunge into unintelligible conversation is as good a way
as any of picking up a foreign language, and probably the most important function
of any Reserve training period is this very one of bringing back a language to an
unpractised tongue and a forgetting mind, before it is quite gone. (One recalls,
on a rare sea-training trip a few years ago, turning frantically to the nearest Petty
Officer, 'What the hell do I say for stop ?' 'Vast heaving, sir.' 'VAST HEAVING!'and disaster was narrowly averted.) During a training period such as the 'Reserve
Officers' Advanced Course' which has prompted these reflections, one meets junior
R.N. officers of wide experience, a smooth fluency in complex jargon, and (one
fondly imagines) one's own generation calling one sir. A convincing fagade becomes
urgently necessary.
The language soon comes back, and after a surprisingly short time the outlandish
phrases begin to yield glimmers of meaning, so that when the Signal School lecturers,
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
301
with their fluent gestures and the Communicator's traditional air of weary elegance,
talk of 'on-line crypto', 'the Hicom net' and 'Lima searches', we can at any rate
catch the general drift. It is like listening to foreigners talking when you know
a few words of their language-you can tell what they are talking about, not really
what they are saying about it. The Communicators are patient with our cretinous
questions, and before long we are all making quite a good pretence of being naval
officers; whereas in fact we are nothing of the kind-our baffled but eager little
group consists of a bank manager, an efficiency expert with a world-wide expense
account, a publisher grimy from Bloomsbury, a farmer rosy from his rolling
Somerset acres, and several silent men, that the rest of us would call 'real' R.N.R.,
as well versed in the wiles of female cruise-passengers as in the ways of the sea.
We all latch keenly on to any 0.K.-words that are new to us-'sophisticated weapons',
'wash-ups', or 'the nuts-and-bolts'wand pretend that Alfa, Bravo and their beatnik
friends are as familiar to us as sturdy Able and Baker of yore.
So every morning we set off in a dark-blue bus, to a different establishment each
day, and its miracles are revealed to us. Although it is obviously all too complicated
to be taken in with any hope of effective retention, presumably we shall form a
general impression, and be able to establish in our own minds some pattern of
proportion and priority among the innumerable skills that are nowadays required
from a salt-horse officer, even from one with 'R' on his sleeve.
At the Signal School, to start with, we are shown a film which clearly proves
that-whatever the submariners, the aviators, or the missile-men may think-it is
really Electronic Warfare that decides the fate of men and nations nowadays, and
accordingly E.W. must continually be in the forefront of any Commanding Officer's
mind. This delicate science seems quite quickly to lead into dilemmas and paradoxes
that it would take a Senior Wrangler to unravel; and even then, in the end he would
still have to make his own arbitrary decision. Which is the better bet: to be aware
but revealed (and quite possibly revealed and jammed, or even revealed and still
unwarned), or to remain blind but undisclosed (and quite possibly already detected,
even if completely unaware) ? The C.O. may well find himself in the intellectual
position of the physicists first confronted with the Quantum Theory, when they
saw that 'not only might different observers assign different measures to forces at
the same point and at the same instant of time, but also that they might all be equally
right'. They found that they were no longer dealing in science, but in philosophy.
Perhaps the Navy is coming back to a state of affairs where the man on the spot
must act by instinct, and where it is recognised that sometimes his best guide is
his own intuition, and not Station Standing Orders or the Whitehall Broadcast.
Such a background of ultimate uncertainty might well be the breeding ground
of a new race of Fabulous Admirals; perhaps we have not, after all, seen the last
of the great naval individualists.
Possibly it is this new ray of hope for individualists that has roused the uniformityobsessed Planners to their latest bout of stifling activity. Every time one returns
to the Navy, one notices some new example of their squalid work. This time, for
instance, things have been made much more difficult for our instructors by the
gratuitous abolition of the distinction between R.N.R. and R.N.V.R. Most of them
naturally assume either that we are all 'gentlemen trying to be seamen' or that we
are all 'seamen trying to be gentlemen' (as the time-honoured tags about R.N.V.R.
and R.N.R. used to run); and they are wrong either way. Who thinks up these
302
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
preposterous changes? Who originally got the pusillanimous idea of making all
officers wear the same unrevealing straight and uncoloured stripes ? (The abolition
of colour-distinctions makes social life much more complicated in a strange messbut what care Planners for sociability?)
No doubt such changes are partly due to the contemporary inclination to think
that a grumbling minority is more likely to be right than a contented, and therefore
unvocal, majority. The minority, simply because it grumbles, is assumed to be more
'progressive' and therefore (yes, 'thereforey-frightful hallucination) more admirable.
So one continually encounters pointless alterations-ratcatchers become 'rodent
operatives', Signalmen become 'T.C.O.sY, we lose first our wavy stripes and then
our Volunteer status, and so on.
We noticed some more of these futile changes at the Gunnery School. We no
longer received the pleasure of a salute from Wrens (and Whaley seems to collect the
blondest and prettiest of them), while on the other hand, from male ratings, we were
continually the target of the most absurd and extravagant gestures-neck-wrenching
jerks of the chin from hatless men in civilian clothes, or, even more ridiculous, in
sweaters and shorts. Surely bareheadedness always used to preclude salutes ?
The tendency to impose absolutely uniform codes of conduct, and to reduce all
outward marks of difference between individuals, is another aspect of the Planners'
campaign against independent initiative. The way that the 'little black box' is taking
over all sorts of control previously exercised by men suits them very well. At Whale
Island it was refreshing to notice that, in spite of all this modern streamlining, the
traditional Whaley noises continued unabashed-hoarse shouts followed immediately
by the thunderous crashing of heavy objects.
There was all the traditional breeziness, too, and it seemed to be more chummy
than it used to be. Is it just that one has grown that much older (about sixteen years
older) or have the G-men had a recovery of confidence now that they have got the
Guided Weapons, and the Aviators' Weapons, and the Loudest Noises of all, safely
tucked into their belts, and therefore do not feel the need to rely on Gas and Gaiters
so aggressively ? Their gardens were as bright as ever (now presumably tended by
Horticultural Operators) and one did not grudge them those glamorous Wrens.
Next we went to play the T.A.S.-men's marvellous games, in the course of
which we noticed that the neighbouring submariners were more quietly confident
than ever--even in a trade which has always somewhat ostentatiously flaunted its
quiet confidence. Even the chopper-fliers did not seem to be inclined to press very
far their claims of prowess in catching modern submarines. The discouraging
aspect is that the Navy does not seem to have an awful lot of modern submarines.
The submariners also had to admit that torpedoes are not what they were.
(Torpedoes in adequate supply, that is, not drawing-board ones.) Why, we asked,
remembering the dreadfully lethal and accurate machines that we and the Germans
used to hurl around in 1945, to the baffled envy of the Americans and Soviets.
'Because the safety-factor was inadequate, so they were abandoned'.
In Vernon there are some splendid group-photographs of Officers' Courses in the
'70s and '80s, days of Britannia's undisputed rule: bearded ruffians wearing high
jackets and tarry trousers, and two or three stripes on their sleeves. They do not
look as if they cared much about 'safety factors'; and nor, I feel sure, do the Russians,
still less the Chinese. (The Planners' baleful hand shows again.)
We noticed an alarming extension of this 'wet' safety-mindedness in the answers to
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
303
our questions about possible enemy threats. After saying 'At present the Russians
do not have . . .'-as if there were no Chinese, or other potential enemies, in the
world-the instructors would usually go on to expound theories about the techniques
of possible hostile action, based on the assumption that an enemy would be as anxious
not to waste unnecessary lives on his own side as we would be on ours. But the
Russians are not-and still less are the Chinese-renowned for squeamishness about
sacrificing their own troops.
A more encouraging portent to be noticed in the T.A.S.-world is that the men
who are concerned with loud noises in deep waters are also, when it comes to
minesweeping, in metaphysical depths; for clever men with nasty minds have worked
out such permutations of differently-triggered mines that they become virtually
unsweepable, except by the one lucky combination and sequence of counteroperations in a large number of possible alternatives. Most of the implications of
this are alarming; but once again it looks as if the individual C.O. will have to be
given back his individual importance, for the ideally favourable sweeping pattern
could only be worked out by a professional mathematician with a computer beside
him (and if he were commanding a minesweeper, even he would not have the time).
So here again, the best guide is likely to be the instinct of the man on the spot, and
the Planners must hold their peace.
By this stage of our course we had surmounted the first language barriers, and
had reached the enjoyable point of eagerly collecting useful new words and phrases.
There was something, we gleefully found, called 'a state of military expectancyyand not a traditional plight of nursemaids. Our old friend, 'the fah-pah umbrella',
was still going strong. 'G.C.O. Blind' was an alarmingly Pew-like new figure. At
the Atomic Defence School we met Beta Burns, that bonnie lassie, and discovered
that 'a dose' is something very different from what it was in 'our day'.
Doses and Burns: small wonder that at the Atomic Defence School they feel
themselves to be rather unpopular, and resent it-a sort of Cinderella complexthat their weighty words are not paid due heed by the men at sea; who very naturally
do not like their daily business to be disturbed by thoughts of what actually happens
if people start chucking megaton bombs about. Nevertheless, even if the Navy
were not committed to the Deterrent, we would still have to think about the unfortunate effects of nuclear war, with calm logic and a strong nerve; and here the
problem is comparatively simple-there is no paradoxical question of how to avert
or repay the Horror, it is assumed to have been 'exchanged', and the task is the plain
one of clearing up the mess round its fringes. A strong stomach, rather than a strong
nerve, is the requirement in the study of 'ABCD'.
Reality is not lost sight of, or softened at the edges. The last question in the
course's tactical problem is 'Have you considered that ,your ship's company know
that their homes are being vaporised or irradiated? What steps will you take in
connection with morale ?'
What indeed ?
The implications of this question and of others closely related to it were by this
time barging their comfortless way to the front of our minds. The Navy has
evidently accepted the idea that any war it is required to fight will be a major war,
necessitating the use of treasure-gobbling Leviathans like Ark Royal, and that
such a war will be an atomic war. Indeed, any thinking man must find it difficult
to accept any different conception of a Great-power war, as Derisley Trimingham
304
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
pointed out in the January NAVAL REVIEW-inevitably it would be nuclear. And
in days or minutes it would inevitably 'escalate' into thermonuclear war. In such
a universal and catastrophic holocaust, what possible use could Reserve officers be ?
How could they ever be mobilised, even in the unlikely event of there being any
ships left to man?
The suspicion then arises, and one or two signs distressingly support it, that
Their Lordships regard the Reserves as a second line to step in and somehow
fight a 'broken-backed' war among the flaming ruins, after most of the 'Active
Service' Navy has been brewed up in the first holocaust. It is extraordinary, but
apparently some people still do think in terms of fighting a 'broken-backed' war
after a thermonuclear 'exchange'; and if of fighting, then presumably also of winning,
or what is the point of fighting? And what then does 'winning' come to mean?
Such people cannot have read Wayland Young's Strategy for Survival, or even
Nevi1 Shute's On the Beach.
However, atomic warfare is at present with us, and must be studied, and so must
the strategy of the Deterrent, until a better policy is concerted. Unfortunately
this strategy immediately presents the Navy with a grave internal threat. It arises
because the structure and equipment that will best fit the Navy to carry and pitch
Our Own Deterrent are those least helpful to it in its traditional role of maintaining
Britain's seafaring authority, and the Rule of Law at Sea. The one purpose requires
vastly expensive specialised machines, from 'black boxes' up to supersonic aircraf?,
which are virtually useless except as 'preparations for a posthumous revenge that
may never be provoked'; the other depends, as always, on skilled sailors and versatile
ships. A Navy of the present size cannot be organised to fulfil both purposes.
And apparently the nation cannot afford a bigger one. I n each of the schools
we visited, sooner or later we came up against the wail, 'Can't afford it7. We discovered that the Navy is actively engaged in the export drive: 'If we could sell a
few of these cookers, we could afford more for ourselves'. On all sides one met
the kind of frustration that arises when first-rate specifications (for weapons, accommodation, ships) have been worked out and developed to the prototype stage, until
the cry goes up, 'There's no more cash in the kitty', and so a skimped second-rate
design is put into production. Often no true economy is effected; sometimes the
consequences are grave, sometimes absurd-for instance, we were assured that the
reason why the Hampshires (which are light cruisers) are to be called 'destroyers'
is that the Treasury would not sanction any more cruisers. Even if it is a joke, it
is a significant one.
On a graver level, the shoe-string measures remind one of the fecklessness of the
'thirties, when essential defences were cut in favour of more seductive expenditure,
so that in 1940 'the British people escaped from the trap laid before their very eyes
by the smallest possible margin' (as Air Vice-Marshal Peter Wykeham writes in his
fine Fighter Command). 'There was no military reason why they should have
escaped at all. Since there was also no reason why they should ever have been
placed in this perilous plight, it might seem that they have shown themselves
remarkably forgiving towards those who put them there. This is just as well, for
of course they were themselves responsible'.
The most depressing aspect of all this is that the Navy is being rapidly incapacitated for the one highly important role that, by all its tradition and history,
it is superbly fitted to play-that of the controlling factor in a 'limited war'. This
GLIMPSES FROM A DARK-BLUE BUS
305
kind of war is all too likely to blow up again; indeed if the strategy of the
Deterrent works, it is the only kind of aggression that the Russians or the Chinese
(or any other Bogy of the moment) can embark on-local campaigns fought by
'volunteers', and such like. Even the old-fashioned 'show of force' might still be
decisive at a crisis of artificially-fomented local unrest. There is no effective international force; the Americans are by temperament bad at local 'police' action, and
by the organisation of their forces now unfit to tackle it anyway; since 1805 the
world has looked to the Navy to take charge.
Now, alas, it seems that it will look in vain. So that we can stay in the Nuclear
Club, and be able to say to the other boys 'My conker's just as super as yours',
the Navy has got to be rebuilt as the Deterrent's instrument, notwithstanding the
fact that the Americans are already admirably expert and capable in these affairs.
Still, that is the answer that Supermac and his men have thought out for the
Navy, and I do not suppose that we could do any better; and I am sure that Mr.
Gaitskell and his squabblers could not. So we go back to the smaller question,
what are the Naval Reserves for ? What is the purpose of maintaining them? No
'philosophy' has been propounded about this. For instance, in our group we found
that all of us had at one time or another been given (but hush!) some form of
'emergency use only' appointment; but neither this time, nor at any other, had
any of us been allotted any form of training that had anything to do with our
particular appointment. On this course, we were courteously treated as potential
sea-going officers; but it was difficult to believe that any of us would be anything
but a nuisance among the occult weapons and labyrinthine communications of a
modern frigate.
Perhaps Their Lordships have in their minds the foreboding that one day, for
reasons and in circumstances which nobody at present can imagine, they will have
to undertake another vast and sudden expansion. With the sophistication of modern
warships, this is more of a nightmare than ever before, one would say virtually
impossible; but the impossible has been achieved by the Navy before now, usually
with the help of the Reserves, so possibly they feel that it is just as well that the
Reserves should stick around.
Perhaps they feel that we are in some way an insurance against the dangerous
consequences of having fewer and fewer ships carrying more and more machines.
The crews have to spend more and more time ashore, learning, with the help of
ever more wonderful 'simulators' (requiring more and more men to make and
maintain them) how to work the machines, which not only cuckoo them out of a
lot of good living-space, but also leave them less and less time to be sailors. As the
ships get more complicated, they get more vulnerable; can anyone who has ever
been on an Atlantic winter patrol really believe that Tiger's twin 3-inch turrets,
for example, would work after a few days in a gale ? And what on earth does the crew
do when they won't work? No hope of getting sense out of those machines with a
thump and a bit of luck. So the ships become a more expensive risk, and a more
vulnerable risk; and the men become less resourceful in themselves.
It sounds like a policy of lunacy; yet it is apparently the one that governs the
development of Britain's 6-inch Navy, to the growing amazement of the onlooking
world. Let us cling to the hope that there is still an influential substratum of
traditional naval thought and common sense, which knows for sure that Britain
has always needed sea power, and always will. She needs the Navy to hold this;
306
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
and in one form or another the Navy has found its Reserves invaluable for three
centuries. So the Reserves are kept on in defiance of the logical implications of
high policies. I pray that they will be spared the attentions of the uniformity-fiends,
and the Deterrent-mongers, and the H-bomb-flingers, and the Higher Brains in
general, and be allowed to continue giving lucky civilians like myself these bafRing
but enthralling glimpses of our Service.
'LEGHORN'
The Problem of Leavebreaking-IV
T
HIS article is being written at sea. Just after crossing the Line, as the first
tug of the Guinea Current makes itself felt. It was conceived in the Indian
Ocean, south of the Maldives and formulated in evening discussions on the forecastle as we sidled across a long, deep swell, heading into flaring sunsets. More
than one knotty point was stood over as we waited for the green flash of a setting
sun. The Coxswain gathered the statistics for me as we rounded the Cape. The
Engineer Officer had his say after dinner on the subject, and the Gunnery Officer
looked into my cabin one morning before breakfast to make his point. It is not
a single man's opinion, nor is it a very weighty analysis of this difficult problem.
I t is not an endorsement of O.B.S.'s article nor a complete refutation of I.G.A.'s.
It is merely a reasonable view, I believe, expressed after eighteen months' concentrated experience.
The matter is dealt with in three portions. After a preliminary discussion of the
problem, supported by tables, both the preceding articles are commented on.
Finally, views and possible solutions are expressed. But before embarking on the
first part, a few words about this ship, of which I am the First Lieutenant. She
is an elderly frigate, completing a Foreign Service Commission on the Far East
Station. We all flew out together to join her, and we are all steaming her home
together. I believe it to have been a very happy commission-certainly 'Togetherness', to use a current American fad-word, has been very much to the fore. We
have not seen much of the Squadron of which we form a part and, on occasion,
seem to have been operating in a naval vacuum. When we have been fortunate
enough to operate with others of the Squadron we have not been the lame duck.
Neither our Inspection Report nor our final Farewell from the Fleet when we
sailed from Singapore suggested that the ship was inefficient or unpopular. The
stage is set.
THEPROBLEM
Sailors are breaking their leave far too frequently. Not, of course, as seriously
as they would have done in the days of the press gang, had they been given leave
to break. Nor so seriously as to pose the same absenteeism problem as arises in certain
collieries. But too often to be acceptable in a disciplined Service prepared for war.
Half the men in this ship have broken their leave at one time or another during the
,
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
307
course of this commission. One in four have broken it on more than one occasion.
Nearly half (45 per cent) of the total offences in the ship during the commission
have been leavebreaking ones. . . .
Table A gives a detailed breakdown of offences as related to rates. From it can
be seen that the tendency to break leave dwindles as seniority is achieved. This is
scarcely surprising as seniority in rate, in the Royal Navy, is closely tied to seniority
in service. (The exceptions to this, the technical departments, proved the rule by
providing all the C.P.O. and P.O. leavebreakers in the ship.) What is more surprising,
and alarming, is that the Juniors provide the greatest percentage of leavebreakers
and greatest percentage of persistent offenders. Whilst the statistics from one ship
cannot be expected to prove any rule, the conformity of the statistics from two
different ships on two different stations can, at least,begin to indicate a pattern.
But more of this in a later section.
Table B shows the leavebreaking rate in relation to place visited. The three final
columns proved fascinating to collect but difficult to collate. (More information
on these columns is clearly required before any rule can appear. Further research
by other First Lieutenants is earnestly encouraged. It can prove unexpectedly
rewarding.) The costs of beer per bottle and spirits per bottle are partly from
recollection and mainly from application to more experienced members of the ship's
company than I. They are only approximate. Even more approximate is the women
quotient. The column is intended to give some idea of the availability of women
ashore at any port or group of ports. T o achieve it, the following factors were taken
into account: the medical stoppage rate pertaining aboard after a visit, the number
of days spent in each port or group of ports, the reported venereal rate ashore, the
general tenor of hospitality in the country concerned and, finally, observation. For
obvious reasons, the exact figures employed to achieve the women quotient are not
available for general scrutiny. All three columns only serve to confirm what every
reader of THE NAVAL REVIEW must long have known: in general, ports renowned as
a 'good run ashore' offer cheap booze and plenty of women. Furthermore, comparison with the first three columns only illustrates another truism: leavebreaking
is high in 'good-run-ashore' ports, especially if the visit is a short one.
A further table was prepared but subsequently abandoned. It showed the leavebreaking rate in relation to branch or department. Whilst it amply illustrated the
welcome (to a Seaman officer) fact that the non-Seaman departments did just as
much leavebreaking percentagewise as their upper deck counterparts, it was not
felt to be truly significant as the numbers involved were too small and the results
too open to misinterpretation. One reference to it was made in the fourth paragraph
and it is only mentioned to here disprove, however mildly, the widely held belief that
technical ratings are not only more absorbed in their duties, but more law-abiding
than their seaman counterparts.
In summation, then, 1-have attempted to show that leavebreaking is far too
common and to indicate who breaks it and where. The 'why' factor I intend to
leave to a later section, though I have touched on it in the ante-penultimate paragraph.
Comparison of the tables in this article and those in that by O.B.S. will show
that they are remarkably similar. The number borne in his ship is greater,
admittedly, as is the number of offenders, percentage of offenders and percentage
NOTES:
1. The numbers borne take account of drafting changes. The average total borne at any one time was 159.
2. Persistent offenders are those who committed second and further repeated offences.
3. A man is classed under the rating in which he committed most of his offences, or spent most of this time if he committed none.
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
TABLE
B
Place
No. of
days' leave
given
No.
of
offences
SINGAPORE. . . . . .
175
49
Leavebreaking
rate
.28
Cost of
bottle
beer
Cost of
bottle
spirits
Women
quotient
216
£1 15s.
2.3
21-
9
116
El 10s.
El 5s.
14.3
HONG
KONG . . . . . .
89
84
...
7
12
13
8
.61
61-
£5
0
......
......
22
1
0.04
1/-
-
0
10
16
1.6
115
101-
13
MALAYA
......
(Penang, Lumut)
9
6
21-
£2
...
20
20
51-
-
...
345
196
AUSTRALIA
(Sydney, cairns)
INDIA ...
.94
1.7
(Cochin, Chi&agong',''
Khulna)
MALDIVES
SOUTH
AFRICA
(Mauritius, Durban,
Capetown)
SOUTHSEAS
(Noumea, ~ G k n d i a ,
Dili, Rabaul, Gizo,
Honiasa, Vila,
Luganville, Manus)
Total
.67
1
9.5
.05
.57
1. The leavebreaking rate is the average number of offences committed per day
leave given.
2. Most of the South Seas offences were committed at Honiasa. All other calls
were 'whistle-stops'.
3. Beer and spirit prices quoted are approximate.
4. 'Women quotient' is explained in the text.
of persistent offenders, but the overall pattern is almost identical. (We seem to
have had a few more real 'crows' who persisted in breaking their leave monotonously,
to have had more breakouts and more aggravated offences-the latter undoubtedly
due to 'whistle-stops' in the South Seas where leave had, on occasion, to be
terminated halfway through dances to enable the ship to meet her programme.)
Here, however, similarities end. We rarely experienced transport difficulties and
never language ones; whilst I agree that the price of drink generally is closely related
to the rate of leavebreaking, I cannot peg it so closely to spirits; I have not tabulated
excuses as they were variegated throughout the commission, though mainly due
to sleeping in; I do not agree that an improvement in the living conditions, however
sorely needed, will tempt the errant sailor back aboard-he pays for more than a
comfortable bed when he sleeps ashore; the removal of drudgery from everyday
work is, to my mind, largely a matter of internal organisation and not ship design
310
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
(I should be just as bored painting the new Forth Bridge as the old one); and I am
only in partial agreement with his closing paragraphs.
However, it is with I.G.A. I am most anxious to cross swords. Doubtless, in a
previous number, O.B.S. will have taken up the cudgels on his own behalf. But I
feel impelled to take arms against the earlier inferences contained in I.G.A.'s article,
since my reported record is scarce rosier than my confrkre's. Being now really in
the swing of the thing, I propose to answer each query squarely.
'Is the situation typical anywhere in a small ship ?' Yes, oh assuredly yes. And
I am certain that Their Lordships, from their perusal of Punishment Returns, are
aware of it. Pray, gentle younger readers, do not be 'gulled' into thinking that this
state of affairs is not typical. Be assured. It is. Leaders frequently have better records,
private ships not uncommonly worse. On one station at any rate.
'What was the Wardroom doing about it ?' Everything it knew. It was holding
Divisional Periods fortnightly at times when specific problems were explained and
general topics aired by the Divisional Officer informally in the presence of the entire
Division. It, or the Command, was arranging lectures on the current political
situation in each country visited. It was interviewing offenders subsequently and
explaining to them what further offences might entail. It was doing, and organising
the many things listed beneath. It was getting back to its own leave.
'Was there a positive lead given both in and out of working hours? I believe
there was; if I understand the question aright. Divisional Officers did identify themselves with the work being done 'part of ship'; they did stand rounds on their messdeck; they did organise and accompany their Divisions on 'Banyans'. They were,
above all, interested in their ratings and discussed them and their problems endlessly
in the mess. Divisional Officers did not hesitate, on occasion, to defend their ratings
with conviction at the table.
'Was it possible to hold regular Church on board?' Most certainly. Despite the
fact that attendance at Divine Service is now voluntary, a small but faithful congregation was maintained throughout the commission. Messes took it in turns to
read the lesson and to choose the hymns. The assistance of Service or civilian
padres was called upon whenever possible.
'. . . cricket and football sides . . . ?' Active, yes. Successful, moderately. But
they tried. And they were watched. And spared, when necessary, during working
hours. The opposition was tough, for a small ship, in many of the ports visited but
the teams (we once fielded three teams simultaneously) never lost heart or an opportunity of playing. And surely one might have been spared this query ? Encouragement of organised sport is vitally important, and generally recognised as such. After
all, most officers have been to school, so the moral can scarcely have evaded them.
'Did the water polo team perform regularly ?' Regrettably, no. Many of its
members had difficulty in remaining afloat, let alone competing. Touche.
'Was there a ship's concert party or a skiffle group ?' Again, no. Leastways, not
over any protracted period or with any great effect. But there were nightly S.R.E.
programmes ranging from inter-mess quizzes, brains trusts and 'Twenty Questions'
sessions to classical music hours, talks and desert island disc sessions. Furthermore
there were weekly treasure hunts for prizes (usually beer) which proved very popular,
and a really grandiose Crossing the Line ceremony.
'Advance general information about ports ?' An officer was specially detailed to
digest all available guide books, both Service and civilian, and publish the results
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
311
well in advance. Illustrations, maps and the like were put on notice boards. Guide
books themselves were distributed whenever they could be purloined from kindly
tourist agencies. Broadcasts were made over the S.R.E. by hands who had visited
the place before. A chart showed the ship's day-to-day progress at sea.
'. . . challenging expeditions . . .?' Yes. The Captain led one ten-day one into a
remote Malayan National Park. Groups of men marched, pedalled and hitchhiked all over Hong Kong and Malaya. They camped on remote desert islands
where the only protection from sand flies proved to be self-burial in the sand. They
spear-fished until their backs were raw.
As regards racing men back from Capetown to Simonstown, the distance is a
little excessive surely? Furthermore, any right-minded man would rather have
the 'full scale' such as it is than the excessive, and uncertain, exertion of a loaded
race. I am compelled to agree with the verdict on drudgery and with the mature
judgment of the feminine role in leavebreaking. And whilst agreeing with the views
on the Basic Training Establishments, it is not until one has had to deal with the
'gormlessness' of newly arrived Juniors that one can appreciate how supremely
irritating the inability of Training Establishments to 'break them in to the sea' can be.
In short, and I fear I have made it amply clear, I consider I.G.A. has taken a
quite unjustified tilt, not only at O.B.S., but many other First Lieutenants who,
nowadays, are almost morbidly conscious of their duties to their ships' companies.
VIEWSAND POSSIBLE
SOLUTIONS
One thing is for sure. There's nothing wrong with the ratings. At the time of
the Armada defaulters doubtless came from 'Papist families,' or were reported to. By
Napoleon's time they were attributed Radical tendencies. Grand Fleet days saw
the first children of Socialist homes ravening at the gate. The '30s blamed families
on the dole for not bringing up their children better. Now Full Employment takes
the can back. In the past Drake and Nelson, Beatty and Cunningham knew better.
We can profit from their lead.
Our ratings continue to be the fine material from which great, or little, things
can result. I do not believe that the ratings are at fault. It is the system. Or the
System, as you will.
Some preliminary observations at this point may serve to clear the air of misconceptions. Cancer has recently been recognised as the most formidable killing
disease there is. An all-out attempt is now being made to combat it. But it has
always been as lethal. It is merely that, in the past, the effects of other diseases
have cloaked its menace. Now that tuberculosis, diphtheria, typhoid and pneumonia
no longer rank as significant killers, cancer has our undivided attention. I t kills
now in its millions, instead of its tens of thousands. But it is still the same disease.
So it is with leavebreaking. Drunkenness has receded, pay has improved, pensions
are looking up, re-engagement is at a very high level, the rosters look like freeingso leavebreaking now emerges to take its place in the forefront of causes for concern.
And not before time. But not to panic.
Officers are not drowsing. Whatever the fears caused by erratic changes of methods
of entry, they're still taught their jobs. They are conscious, sometimes over-conscious,
of the role of what sailors sometimes refer to inaccurately but comprehensively as
'Welfare'. Chief Petty Officers assert, if asked, that much more attention seems to
be paid to sailors and their problems and living conditions than in the past (this is an
312
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
almost verbatim quote). Furthermore they assert this with mild misgivings. They,
themselves, innately conservative, do not entirely 'hold with it'. Possibly, too, they
see continued undermining of their own positions if the trend continues markedly.
Junior seamen arriving in the Fleet are not all adolescent anarchists. Nor are
the Training Establishments gradually teetering into decay like Roman garrisons
long isolated from the homeland. It is simply that the Juniors arriving at sea are
not given the intensive follow-up tuition they once received. No longer do they
receive the best Leading Seaman as Killick of their Mess. They don't have one.
Nor do they have the steadiest and most fatherly Petty Officer as Instructor. They
don't receive instruction daily. This is as a result of Admiralty direction. The hapless youths are parcelled out amongst the messes and take their turn of night watches
with the rest. Many ships, I venture, have found this system virtually unworkable.
We certainly did, and had to garner them up again into a Junior Mess. Once this
was done, absenteeism fell off magically and even leavebreaking began to mend.
Subsequently they proved keen and industrious, and very reasonable members of
the community. Even so, in a puzzled way, they still felt something was amiss.
T o quote one: 'The training was jolly good. 'Course, it was a bit of a disappointment
to only clean bright-work at the start here but now we're doing more. Main thing
was no one much seemed to organise us at the start'. He didn't add that that was
when they started to go wrong. But it was.
T o recapitulate. Leavebreaking is far too common and must be curbed. But it
has not yet reached epidemic proportions. All reasonable measures are normally
taken to cherish ships' companies in the vast majority of ships. Officers do know
their jobs and can almost certainly produce a few tricks from up their sleeves which
their Seniors know nothing of. The raw material for seamen is, as always, excellent
and there is nothing wrong with their initial training (except in minor non-essentialsbut that's another subject).
Then what's wrong? Before answering that we must make sure why sailors
break their leave. Juniors break it because they're just getting into the party spirit
and the night clubs are really beginning to tick when their leave expires at 2100.
Ordinary Seamen have just received an offer of private hospitality in the soft gloom
of some little bar when their leave is up at 2330. Others, the vast majority, in receipt
of all-night leave, either don't wake up or don't want to get up when they do. And
it's not usually the ones in clubs or hostels who fail in this respect. It's the ones
with girl friends whose beds they share.
Alcohol and women contribute markedly towards leavebreaking. The alcohol
is mainly significant in that it removes inhibitions, caution, or moral scruples. The
women, in the Far East at any rate, are significant because they are prepared to
share their beds throughout the night, often form semi-permanent attachments to
ratings, do not possess reliable alarm clocks or the type of esprit de corps which
prompts wives to bundle protesting husbands out of bed, and, supremely, offer
attractions with which no warship can compete.
The possible solutions to this problem are laid out beneath. Each recommendation is amplified and explained.
Persevere. Continue with every known means to make the Navy as happy and
efficient a unit as possible. This includes continuing improving habitability, encouraging Divine Worship, planning work efficiently, organising outings, challenging
or otherwise, providing domestic entertainments, ensuring the Divisional System
THE PROBLEM OF LEAVEBREAKING-IV
313
works, instructing ratings not only about their next port of call but about the ship's
role as well, fostering and promoting organised sport on every occasion and setting
an example that men can be expected to follow. Above all, not to abandon old and
tried methods, even if they do not seem to be working for a spell.
Punish by severer mulcts of pay. The present punishments are not working,
in their deterrent capacity anyway. In this context it is interesting to note that one
seldom hears sailors complaining about taxation. This may be because P.A.Y.E.
removes the money from their pay packets before they ever see it, so they tend never
to miss it. This may hold true of mulcts of pay. An excellent way of drawing
attention to the significance of mulcts, whether or not increased, would be to make
ratings pay them back to the Cash Officer after fortnightly payment. Then they,
and others, would see the actual money they were forfeiting. (One Captain of
Warspite used to inform his ship's company monthly of the amount of money they
had forfeited to the Crown for leavebreaking-with advantageous effects).
Protect Juniors from the hurly-burly of life ashore in foreign ports when they
arrive in a ship. Restrict their shore-going to sporting occasions, organised shopping
runs, organised cinema outings and occasional initiative tests. This used to be
done in the past to good effect. Certainly do not allow them to drift ashore, albeit
until only 2100, in exotic foreign Gomorrahs and then expect them to return to
their leave. By breaking them in gently to foreign sights, but giving them amusing
times, you will keep them interested and unresentful, will please their parents more
and serve the individuals concerned more fully, besides preventing leavebreaking.
By the time they are rated Ordinary Seamen, they will have become accustomed to
foreign sights and ways and have become more adult.
Permit all-night leave whenever possible. This is such an old chestnut that it
should not need repeating. But it also applies to Ordinary Seamen and Men Under
Age. By restricting their leave to 2330 one does not prevent them visiting brothels.
If they want to go they'll be in, like riggers, at 2100. So why ever not give them
all-night leave. At eighteen they're old enough to drive a car. Let them drive
themselves. There'd be far fewer absent over leave.
Postpone the time of leave expiry in foreign ports. The Navy has always worked
a shorter working day than its civilian counterparts, when in harbour. Namely,
from 0730 till 1600. Why not, when the ship is in, say, Hong Kong work from 0830
until 1700. Ratings will then have an opportunity of returning aboard at a later hour
legally. Life will have already started ashore. Buses will be running, people streaming
into work, shops opening. Liberty men, conditioned to early rising aboard, will
awaken naturally, whether or not they've been given an alarm clock or a shake and
still have time to make the deadline. The Navy will lose no working time. Less sailors
will be seen in foreign ports doubling, white faced, backto their ships. Clearly this would
not be so easy, or desirable, in home ports where there is a dockyard to mesh with. But
itis not so necessary in home ports where leavebreaking is less serious and wives are
there to help in any case. Ships could even, when visiting foreign ports, keep their
own clocks one hour astern of local time thereby serving both God and Mammon.
If some of the views expressed here are disturbing and the proposals radical, I
hope that members will not dismiss them without thought. The problem is sorely
in need of solution. Ten consecutive years of sea-time have not suggested, to me,
any better answers. Have they to you?
J.M.W.M.
New Zealand to the Red Sea in H.M. S.
Leander - 1940
T the beginning of the Second World War H.M.S. Leander was one of the
two cruisers on the New Zealand Station, the other was H.M.S. Achilles. In
addition there were two sloops whose duty was, for the most part, the periodical
visiting of the small atolls in the Western Pacific; this was a most interesting job
and at times produced some very amusing situations calling for the use of initiative
and imagination on the parts of the officers and ratings in these ships, H.M.S. Leith
and H.M.S. Wellington.
The Government of New Zealand has always laid claim to the fact that they
were the first of Her Majesty's Dominions to declare war with Germany. Actually,
on the day war was declared the Achilles was well on her way to the west coast of
South America, and the two sloops were proceeding to the British Isles via the Cape
of Good Hope. This left H.M.S. Leander as the sole warship on the New Zealand
Station; but well before the outbreak of war the Monowai, a ship belonging to the
Union Steamship Company of New Zealand, was put in hand for conversion to an
armed merchant cruiser. With the rather limited resources available on the Station
this job was done in remarkably quick time.
The Leander was at first employed on patrol round the coasts of New Zealand
on the lookout for enemy raiders and visiting outlying islands, but nothing out of
the ordinary happened. However, early in 1940 the question arose of providing an
escort for a large troop convoy which was being assembled to take the bulk of the
New Zealand and Australian troops, who had just completed their training, to
England.
By that time German raiders had made their presence felt in the outer oceans.
Before the outbreak of war two pocket battleships, the Deutschland and the Graf
Spee, broke out into 'the trackless oceans'. The first-named confined her attentions
to the North Atlantic where she effected very little, but the latter became very active
in the South Atlantic where the Admiralty disposed powerful 'hunting groups'
to round her up. It was on November 15th that the Graf Spee sank a small tanker
in the Mozambique Channel; she had thus penetrated into the Indian Ocean-the
route to be used by the troop convoys from Australia and New Zealand. It was on
December 13th that this menace to the trade routes was disposed of in the vicinity
of the mouth of the River Plate by three of H.M. cruisers, one of them was the
Achilles, which ship, after crossing the Pacific from New Zealand, had joined up with
one of the 'hunting groups'.
Thus at the beginning of April, 1940, the Deutschland and Scheer were not
accounted for and so there existed a powerful menace which might turn up anywhere
at any time.
The ships detailed for this convoy were the cream of the Merchant Navy: they
were the Queen Mary, Aquitania, Mauretania, Empress of Britain, Empress of Japan,
Empress of Canada and Andes. The escort was made up of H.M.A. Ships Australia
and Canberra and H.M.S Leander from the New Zealand detachment of the Royal
Navy. The latter acted as escort for the troopships which sailed from Wellington,
A
NEW ZEALAND TO THE RED SEA I N H.M.S. 'LEANDE~'
- I940
3I5
N.Z., and, with the exception of the Empress of Canada, the whole sailed from
Sydney and shaped course for Fremantle. When off Melbourne the Empress of
Canada joined up and took up her position in the formation in a manner that evoked
the highest praise from the Admiral commanding the escort, a difficult manoeuvre
with the other ships doing twenty knots.
While completing with fuel and stores at Fremantle, the news came through that
the German offensive on the Western Front had started-this was the end of the
"phoney" war.
When clear of Fremantle the convoy formed up in two columns: starboardQueen Mary, Apuitania and ~ a u r e t a n i aport-~mpress
;
of Britain, Empress of Japan,
Empress of Canada and Andes. It was a most inspiring sight to see all these great
ships, in perfect station, keeping up a speed of advance of nineteen knots with a
moderate following sea and typical south-westerly weather. The heavy cruisers of
the escort were stationed on either bow at a distance of five miles while the Leander
was two miles ahead of the centre of the two columns. On the afternoon of the
second day out the Leander hoisted the signal for 'Man Overboard', went full speed
astern between the two columns with the seas breaking over her superimposed
turret aft; within ten minutes she hoisted the signal for 'Man Savedy. Those in the
convoy, who happened to be watching, must have wondered what was going on;
the episode provided an entertaining interlude so those in the Leander were told
afterwards! -on being picked up the 'survivor' said that he felt very 'lonely and
frightened' when he saw the great liners streaking past him.
Two nights after this, in the middle watch, a signal was received diverting the
convoy round the Cape of Good Hope and the Leander to Colombo; these new
arrangements were owing to the apparent desire of Italy to enter the war on the
side of Germany. Away went the Leander at twenty-eight knots in a lumpy following
sea with rather patchy visibility. On approaching Ceylon it was quite apparent
that the S.W. monsoon had just set in, and Colombo was made in a strong southwesterly gale and torrents of rain. In this weather berthing was tricky, but by using
plenty of power was successfully accomplished without incident.
Orders were received to complete with oil and proceed to Aden 'with despatch'.
In a matter of four hours the ship was on her way again at twenty-eight knots; the
passage to Aden was uneventful. On arrival, it was again the same routine, only
this time the destination was Suez. Again the speed was twenty-eight knots; on
entering Suez the Leander passed a division of K class destroyers on their way to
Aden. N O time was wasted, and the Suez Canal was negotiated for the most part
in the dark-a very interesting experience. The Mediterranean Fleet was at
Alexandria and, on arrival there, the Leander was ordered to join up with the Seventh
Cruiser Squadron, which was then commanded by Vice-Admiral J. C. Tovey, later
Commander-in-Chief of the Home Fleet. This period of intense satisfaction was short
lived; orders were suddenly received to proceed to Port Sudan, which port was
just about as near as one could get to the Italian naval base of Massawa, where it
was known that there were some destrovers and submarines which would have to
come out before one could get a crack it them. On arrival off the port the Army
gunners greeted us with a few rounds of 6-inch-an understandable mistake owing
to their proximity to Massawa.
When Italy entered the war, the Leander was ordered to Aden and came under
the orders of the Flag Officer in Charge there, who commanded the forces whose
-
object was to keep open the sea communications through the Gulf of Aden and the
Red Sea. The forces at his disposal were two 6-inch gun cruisers (H.M.S. Leander
and H.M.A.S. Hobart), one anti-aircraft cruiser (H.M.S. Carlisle), four modern
destroyers (H.M. Ships Kandahar, Kimberley, Khartoum and Kingston), four sloops
(H.M. S. Aberdeen, H.M.S. Flamingo, H.M.I.S. Hindustan, H.M.I. S. Indus)
with some trawlers for local defence. T o assist the surface ships the Royal Air
Force had at Aden only one bomber, one fighter and one reconnaissance squadronall of them being ill-equipped and under strength; all these aircraft, when they
were available, were used for reinforcing the surface escorts.
The Italian surface forces consisted of seven fleet destroyers, two smaller
destroyers, four escort vessels, eight submarines and a number of motor torpedo
boats which were all based at Massawa. The air forces based in East Africa numbered
325 of all types, but 142 of these were in reserve and only about forty were modern
bombers. It is true that reinforcements could be flown from Libya, but stocks of
fuel and spares were low and, once war started, it was difficult to maintain efficiency
and to avoid a high rate of wastage.
With the fall of France and Italy throwing in her lot with Germany, the Mediterranean to all intents and purposes became quite useless as a line of sea communications
to the British forces in Egypt. They had to be kept supplied for operations against
the Axis forces stationed in Libya, who otherwise would have a clear run in any
operations they might wish to undertake against Egypt and in consequence the
Suez Canal. There was only one way of passing the supplies for the Fleet at
Alexandria and the forces in the Western Desert, and that was through the Red
Sea. Hence this line of sea communications became a vital factor to British
strategy in the lMiddle East. When the Leander arrived at Aden, it seemed that the
Italians would concentrate the main effort of their naval and air forces in Eritrea
against the convoys passing through the Red Sea-in fact, the escorting forces
expected what might be called 'a lively time'.
This idea was confirmed when on June 16th a Norwegian tanker was torpedoed
by a submarine in the Gulf of Aden. For two days the submarine was pursued
by escort vessels and craft, and when these were diverted to other duties a diminutive
trawler, H.M.S. Moonstone, was left on patrol. On the 19th the submarine, Galileo
Galilei, surfaced and attempted to sink her tormentor. The trawler struck back
scoring a hit on the conning tower and killing the Italian captain. The submarine
promptly surrendered and the Moonstone promptly towed her into Aden in triumph.
The surrendered submarine was a mine of information as little or no attempt had
been made to destroy the secret orders onboard her. From them the positions of
the three submarines that had sailed with her were ascertained and they were dealt
with as follows: the Torricelli was sunk by the Red Sea escort forces, the Galvani
by the sloop Falmouth, and the Macalle ran aground off Port Sudan and became a
total loss. The four surviving submarines at Massawa were recalled to Europe
and reached Bordeaux early in 1941.
Towards the end of June it was decided to start regular sailings of convoys
through the Red Sea. I t was natural that the flow of shipping towards Suez should
increase enormously and had to be dealt with expeditiously as so much depended
on it, since ships were so valuable owing to the mounting losses of British tonnage.
President Roosevelt had declared the Red Sea a 'combat zone', thus forbidding
American ships from entering, therefore no help came from that quarter.
NEW ZEALAND TO THE RED SEA I N H.M.S. 'LEANDER'
- I940
3I7
Fighting men and supplies were carried to Bombay in the 'monster' liners and
there transferred to smaller ships to join the Bombay-Suez (BN) convoys in which
also were embarked the reinforcements for the formations of the Indian Army
which were fighting in the Middle East. The BN convoys ran on an average every
ten days and the route they followed was straight through the centre of the Red
Sea; owing to the proximity of the land and shoals it was almost impossible to deviate
from the laid-down route; in fact it became known as 'the tram lines'. The southbound convoys also used the same routes. Evasion was clearly impossible. Along
these the convoys literally 'plodded', as the ships that were in them were both
small and slow-the speed of advance varied between five and nine knots, which
one would have thought would have made them sitting shots for a submarine. It
is satisfactory to relate that only one ship-a small tanker which was stragglingwas lost by submarine action during the time the Leander was on the Station. Until
north of Port Sudan the routes were never more than about seventy miles from
enemy-held territory and when in the Strait of Perim the convoys were within sight
of the Italian shore for a matter of about four or five hours, except when it was
dark or when there was a sandstorm.
The convoys that approached Aden from the east, i.e. from Bombay or the Cape
of Good Hope, were usually met by a cruiser escort somewhere in the longitude
of Sokotra and were joined by the ships at Aden when off that port. The convoy
conferences held prior to sailing were very interesting. The masters of the ships
came from almost every nationality and the ships ranged in size from large tankers
to tiny coasters with an odd cargo-passenger liner thrown in. There was no doubt
about the fact that the masters were all intent on getting their ships intact with their
cargoes to Suez; they were also most ready and willing to hoist in what they were
told by the Convoy Control Officers-sometimes the language difficulty became
very acute! When at sea it was always a wonder to all those in the escorting ships
how well the ships in convoy kept station, even when zigzagging, and promptly
obeyed the signals made by the Commodore from time to time. It certainly showed
that there is a common doctrine among all those who 'go down to the sea in ships
and see the wonders of the deep'.
To the great wonder of everyone the first three or four convoys, both north- and
south-bound, went through quite unmolested. The weather was calm and clear,
so there was no excuse for this Italian inaction on that score. Some were of the
opinion that this state of immunity was due to the way that the first submarine
foray ended so quickly and, for the Italians, so disastrously; also their aircraft gained
some experience of naval anti-aircraft fire when they put in an attack on a cruiser
and two destroyers just north of Perim, when the latter were dealing with a submarine
early on. However, as time went on the enemy became more venturous as far as
the use of their aircraft were concerned. On all occasions they were met by a very
alive and attentive 'reception committee' in the shape of the convoy escort, which
usually consisted of one cruiser, an anti-aircraft cruiser if available, one destroyer
and two or three sloops. The volume of fire put up by this small force was impressive and it was noticeable that the height from which the attackers dropped
their bombs went up after each encounter; at first it was in the region of 2,000 to
3,000 feet, but after a couple of months it was more in the region of 10,000 to
12,000 feet.
The routine for these attacks seemed never to vary: the first was at about 1000,
sometimes a second at about 1400, and the last for the day about 1700, i.e. one hour
before sunset. It was noticeable that the attacking aircraft were very hard to locate;
in fact often you could hear their engines before you saw the aircraft. This was not
due to any lack of vigilance; the anti-aircraft lookouts often reported the planet
Venus as an aircraft even on the brightest of days. This generally occurred when
the star was fairly close to the zenith. After very careful thought this 'failure to
sight' was put down to the fact that there seemed to be some sort of haze (probably
fine sand) about 10,000 feet above the water which was difficult to see through
diagonally. When the anti-aircraft cruisers made their appearance the situation
became much easier, as they were fitted with radar; today, therefore, this difficulty
would not apply. These valuable ships accompanied most convoys.
The port and town of Aden did not escape the attentions of enemy aircraft. It
was indeed quite often that the wireless signal 'KM' (phonetically King Monkey)
was heard meaning 'Enemy aircrafi approaching', emanating from Aden radio. I t
was therefore no wonder that all Italian aircraft came to be known as 'King Monkeys'!
It was during one of the raids that some of the raiders were brought down; the
survivors (those who were lucky enough to be picked up before the sharks got at
them) were very surprised to see there was little apparent damage to the townthey imagined it had been entirely blotted out according to the reports they had
received of the damage inflicted during previous raids. About this time also it was
reported that one of the more daring leaders of the Italian aircraft formations,
which had carried out raids on the convoys, had fallen intact into our handshe had come to be known as 'El Capitano'; when searched, all that was found on
him were the essentials for what might be termed a 'Very good night out', wherever
he landed.
It was during the month of August the famous series of high-speed ocean convoys
known as WS convoys (it was mooted that WS was short for 'Winston's Specials')
started to run. They brought reinforcements and supplies direct from Great Britain
at intervals of six weeks. Pounding along at perhaps eighteen knots, they were a
very impressive sight viewed from a slow convoy plodding along at perhaps six knots!
During the month of September there was a feeling that things in the Red Sea
might be 'hotting up'. There were persistent reports that German dive-bombing
aircrafi would shortly make their appearance which, if they did, would considerably
add to the risk to the ships in the convoys. This was given confirmation by the fact
that a north-bound convoy, which had passed the Strait of Perim just after daylight,
was attacked from a low level by an enemy formation, one of whose bombs scored
a near miss on a large storeship (s.s. Bhima); the resulting damage brought the
ship to a halt. This attack was carried out in a very efficient manner and, in the
prevailing short visibility, one of our own aircrafi came in for a certain amount of
attention from the Leander's anti-aircraft armament; luckily it was a case of 'very
good shooting, no hits' and the crew of the aircraft were entertained onboard on
return to harbour, when they spoke very feelingly of the accuracy of the anti-aircraft
fire-a fine boost to the morale of the guns' crews! The Bhima was towed safely
to Aden by H.M.S. Caledon.
After this both the north- and south-bound convoys came in for increasing
attention from the 'King Monkeys'; it seemed that either there were new 'brooms'
in the Italian Air Force or else they were getting more petrol supplies from somewhere. Broadsides from the main 6-inch armament were used in the L e a n d ~
against them in an effort to 'make them more careful in future', but the only
noticeable effect was that they let go their bombs from a still greater height, scoring
no hits on either the ships in the convoys or their escorts. It seemed impossible
for them to miss everything in a large, slow-moving mass of perhaps fifty or sixty
ships but, by dint o f working the matter out, it was learned that-in any convoy
there is only just about 2 per cent. of the area it covers occupied by ships.
By now (October) the station-keeping of the ships in the convoys had become a
thing to be wondered at and the way they answered signals showed that a very
high state of efficiency in this most important department had also been reached.
When it came to be considered that in merchant ships at this time there were only
very sketchy means of communication between the bridge and the engine-room,
and usually they could not afford to provide more than one officer on watch on
the bridge at a time and these officers were in watch and watch, all those in the
warships were loud in their praise of what their opposite numbers in the merchant
ships could do.
On October 19th an unusually large troop convoy passed Aden going north from
Bombay. It was there joined by the Aden contingent composed of slow store ships
for the most part, which brought the speed of the convoy down to something in the
region of six knots-it was particularly noticeable that it took a very long time for
the whole of the convoy to negotiate the Strait of Perim against an unusually strong
current setting out of the Red Sea. The escort consisted of one cruiser (H.M.S.
Leander), three sloops (H.M.S. Aberdeen, with anti-aircraft guns, and H.M.I. Ships
Hindustan and Zndus) and one destroyer (H.M.S. Kimberley). I t will be noticed
that there was no anti-aircraft cruiser, but with the air opposition to be expected
it was considered that there was a sufficient volume of anti-aircrafl fire available in
the escort.
The weather in the southern part of the Red Sea was extremely hot, with the
usual haze overhead-in fact just the very kind that was suitable for a visit from
the 'King Monkeys'. However, the daylight hours of the 20th passed without them
making their presence felt; this was rather surprising. By dusk the convoy had just
about got to the latitude of Massawa; still nothing had happened. It was felt that
this large and important convoy could not have passed the notice of the enemy in
the vicinity of the port of Assab (Strait of Perim), particularly as this was passed
in broad daylight. As no ships in the escort were fitted with radar it was quite on
the cards that an enemy aircraft could have approached the convoy unseen during
any time of the day and pinpointed its position and reported its course, speed and
formation.
As darkness fell, dispositions for the night were taken up. One sloop was stationed
right ahead of the convoy and one on each bow at a distance of one mile, the destroyer
stationed astern so as to be able to keep an 'eye out' for stragglers and, with her
speed, to be able to move up to reinforce any ship that might encounter an enemy.
The cruiser cruised up and down the port column of ships which was nearest the
enemy base (Massawa), which was the direction from which it was expected an
attack would be made; she had the gun-power to destroy and the speed to chase
any assailant.
With darkness there developed a slight surface haze on the water which drifted
slowly in front of a gentle breeze from the northward. When the moon rose (it
was almost full) the visibility on the surface was in the region of from two to three
miles. The first watch passed without incident but, as was natural with this large
number of ships of different nationalities, shapes and sizes, there was a tendency
to straggle and the cruiser on patrol exerted her influence to keep the ships in their
proper station.
Just about 0200 on October 21st the Leander was about halfway along the port
wing column when those on the bridge saw two columns of smoke rising vertically
from the water some distance ahead of the convoy. At once the 'Alarm' was sounded
and full speed ordered. The fact of the matter was that, from the sailing orders,
it was quite clear that there were no British or Allied ships anywhere in the Red
Sea at that moment, and it was therefore considered that this was a surface attack
on the convoy. Within a very short space of time this view was confirmed. The
sloops on the screen ahead were seen to make the recognition signal and almost
at once gun flashes followed. At once the Commodore of the convoy made the
signal for an emergency turn to starboard, which the convoy executed in a very
seamanlike manner.
Owing to the mist on the water it was at first rather hard to make out the enemy
ships, but after what seemed an age-it was according to the bridge record a matter
of three minutes-the gun control position reported that they could see the target
and so the order was given to 'Open fire'. Firing was also taking place ahead of the
convoy, where the sloops attacked the enemies vigorously. The enemy were using
shell with coloured tracers, in fact taking the situation by and large there was a
regular firework display taking place in the vicinity of the head of the convoy. It
was about this time that it could be seen from the bridge of the Leander that the
attackers were two large enemy destroyers.
The Leander had been engaging the leading ship with 6-inch broadsides ('A' arcs
were just open), and after about three minutes the control position reported that
they had lost the target which had been obscured by a smoke screen; at the same
time the second destroyer also disappeared, probably in the same way.
While all this 'picnic' was going on, the destroyer astern of the convoy, H.M.S.
Kimberley, had 'marched to the sound of the guns'. Steaming at full power she
overtook and passed the Leander and the opportunity was taken to give her all the
latest information concerning the enemy; they were last seen making off to the
north-west at full speed. This was in the direction of the northern channel inside
the reefs which led to the port of Massawa-it seemed quite clear that they had
made use of this way to leave their base.
Neither damage nor casualties occurred in any ships of the convoy and escorts
and, in a surprisingly short time, the Commodore had the convoy back on its course
and all the ships in station. From all the information that was available after the
action it appeared that the Italians used both gun and torpedo fire against the ships
of the convoy during their attack; it seemed odd at the time that they should have
attacked from ahead if their intention was to use torpedoes, as the latter would
then 'comb' the columns of ships; perhaps this would account for the fact that
there were no torpedo hits.
With the first glimmer of daylight the Kimberley reported that she had one enemy
destroyer in sight and was in hot pursuit; the position she gave was close to the
entrance to the northern channel to Massawa. Almost immediately afterwards a
signal was received saying she was engaging the enemy and this was shortly followed
by the bald announcement 'Enemy sunk'. This was the cause of considerable
NEW ZEALAND TO THE RED SEA I N H.M.S. 'LEANDER'
-
- I940
321
satisfactionto both the convoy and escort; it was never established whether the enemy
had been damaged by the escort's fire, but it seems likely in view of the fact that
the Francesco Nullo 'had the legs' of the Kimberley in the normal course of business.
Just as the matter was being digested, another signal came from the Kimberley
saying that in the process of sinking the enemy she had come under accurate fire
from a shore battery and had sustained damage to her engine-room but was making
her way to rejoin the convoy at slow speed. It was entirely obvious that there was
only one thing to be done and at once the Leander set off at full speed to assist the
Kimberley; the latter might well have come under both air and surface attack in her
crippled condition, as the enemy air bases were within what was described by the
observer attached to the Leander's Walrus (amphibious aircraft) as 'spitting
distance'; as the Kimberley was just off the entrance to an enemy base it was reasonable to expect that supports were ready to assist the Nullo.
The course required to intercept the Kintberley went straight over what was
labelled 'discoloured water' on the chart; in a warning in the Sailing Directions it
was made clear that this part of the Red Sea was not accurately surveyed and
mariners were warned to give a wide berth to 'discoloured patches'. But it was
deemed that there must have been a large number of ships which, from time to time,
had been over these waters and so with special lookouts stationed aloft the Leander
went on her way rejoicing and hoping for the best.
After about an hour and a half's steaming, away on the horizon there appeared
the masthead of the Kimberley making her way slowly to the eastward. During the
approach, signals were exchanged showing that the damage was rather extensive
and there were some wounded onboard. The Leander went alongside the Kimberley
and, while the tow was being passed, the wounded were transferred-the whole
evolution only took about five minutes.
Hardly had the strain been taken on the towline when, as was expected, the 'King
Monkeys' arrived in force. They threw everything at us but the only casualties
were when some of the guns' crews tried to pick up the splinters that came inboard
to keep as souvenirs-they burnt their fingers !
To rejoin the convoy, speed was gradually worked up to twenty knots, at which
speed the Kimberley towed beautifully on the 34-inch wire hawser-it is needless
to remark that the weather was calm. During this performance a shark stationed
itself underneath the port seaboat and remained there for about an hour; he was
at least 25 feet long. I t was amusing to hear the remarks passed on this; stories
of sharks being able to smell blood from any distance were recounted but fortunately
there was no blood about this time.
Just as 'the tow' was taking station on the convoy, a formation of aircraft appeared
without warning on the starboard beam; as they were out of range fire was not
opened on them. This was lucky, as they turned out to be our own aircraft which
had been operating in the vicinity of Massawa and had come to have a look at what
was going on. I t must always be borne in mind that ships at any time are 'triggerhappy' when there are unidentified aircraft in the vicinity, particularly just after
being attacked, in fact their only chance with unidentified aircraft is to 'shoot first
and think afterwards', if they want to apply the old motto 'Thrice armed he who
has his quarrel just, but ten times he who gets his blow in fust'.
Orders were received just before dark to transfer the tow to the destroyer
Kingston; this was accomplished just before darkness fell. It is satisfactory to relate
322
NEW ZEALAND TO THE RED SEA I N H.M.S. 'LEANDER'
- 1940
that the Kimberley got safely to Port Sudan where, with the help of the railway
workshops there, she was repaired in a very short time and joined up again with the
Aden escort force.
Nothing further disturbed the even tenor of the way of either the north-bound
or south-bound Red Sea convoys for some time after this episode; in fact the enemy
surface forces at Massawa only went to sea just before the fall of their base at the
end of March, 1941. It is true, however, that a north-bound convoy lost a small
petrol tanker which was a straggler when she was torpedoed by a submarine; the crew
took to the boats and got safely into Kamrahn Bay, where they were looked after
by the British Resident.
On one of her last runs with a south-bound convoy before the Leander went to
Bombay for a much-overdue refit, a case of sudden illness was reported in one
of the ships in the convoy. At dusk the merchant ship was ordered to haul out of
line and the Surgeon Commander sent over to investigate. He at once diagnosed
an acute appendix and brought the case back onboard. An operation was imperative
and carried out under very trying conditions with the ship darkened and a complete
lack of cool air in the sick bay; air-conditioning was unheard of in the Royal Navy
at that time. That the operation was a complete success was proved by the fact
that exactly twelve days later the 'casualty' came running up the starboard ladder,
having been discharged from the R.A.F. Hospital at Aden, saying he wanted to
thank the Surgeon Commander for the very good job he had made of him and to
ask to be sent to sea as soon as possible.
Early in December, the Leander was sent to Bombay for refit and docking. The
opportunity was taken to replace the eight anti-aircraft guns which were found
to be worn down to their safety limits; unfortunately there is no record available
of the number of rounds fired by the guns, but everyone in the Leander could vouch
for the fact that some of the shells used to explode just outside the muzzles of the
guns when they were fired-an unpleasant and alarming phenomenon. After this
refit the Leander joined up with the East Indies Squadron and eventually found
her way back to New Zealand, where she was employed in the Pacific Fleet, was
torpedoed but survived the war.
Exhaustive, recondite researches have failed to bring to light complete statistics
of what was accomplished by the Red Sea convoys during the early days of their
existence. None the less, contemporary records show that between August and
December, 1940, some 126,000 officers and men were safely carried to Egypt
through the Red Sea-76,000 from Great Britain and 49,000 from Bombay and
beyond. The figures for oil fuel, tanks, ammunition, supplies, etc., must be pretty
staggering and it seems a pity that these are not available at the moment. Everyone
knows how the British forces were built up and supplied in Egypt so that, at the
battle of El Alarnein, the 'Hinge of Fate' was turned and from then on success
attended the efforts of the armed forces of the Western Allies.
Once the Mediterranean sea route was closed the only way to get the sinews of
war to the forces stationed in the Middle East was through the Red Sea. Until the
Italian forces in East Africa were eliminated the threat to the sea communications
through the Red Sea was grave; mention has been made of this at the beginning of
this article. The British Commanders in the Middle East were gravely concerned
for the safety of the Red Sea route. It was obvious that the Italian naval and air
forces could do much damage to slow-moving convoys, which had to traverse 1,300
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
323
miles of narrow waters from Aden to Suez, and whose movements could be so
easily watched by the enemy that there could be no concealment. I t is now clear
that the Axis High Command failed to understand the value of intensive attack on
this line of sea communications; it is indeed lucky from the point of view of the
Allies that this was the case.
The opportunities for attack were there. In August, 1940, four convoys passed
Aden in both directions, in September five, in October seven, altogether comprising
158 ships that went safely through. With an alert and efficient enemy here were
the targets. It was the small strength of the surface and air escort forces which
made it necessary that they ran and operated almost continuously. The appalling
heat of the Red Sea was one of their severest trials. Ships were relentlessly overdriven, and cases of exhaustion and even death from heat-stroke were not uncommon
among the crews. Nevertheless the job they were set was brought to a successful
conclusion without a great song and dance being made about it during or since the
end of the Second World War.
H. E. HORAN
The Army Mountaineering Association's
Expedition to Baltistan, 1959
W
HEN I started this article I soon realised that a bald record of events, apart
from being extremely difficult to write, would make but dull reading for the
majority, for whom the technicalities of mountaineering hold scant interest. I
make no apology, therefore, for an account which is entirely personal, even to the
extent of omitting any description of the expedition's finest achievement, in which
I played no part.
From my own reading of mountaineering literature, I was aware of several pitfalls
confronting me. Firstly, the use of Christian names which so often mars such
accounts. Thoroughly familiar to the author, they serve only to confuse the reader,
particularly when the expedition being described is a large one, as this was. Secondly,
the difficulty of describing topographical detail with sufficient clarity to enable the
reader to form an accurate picture without undue mental exertion. Thirdly, the use
of unfamiliar jargon which so often compels the writer to add a glossary-acceptable
in a book perhaps but not in an article such as this.
I can only hope that the names I have had to use, the descriptions I have attempted
and the terms I have employed will aid and not hinder the narrative.
INTRODUCTION
This expedition was organised by the Army Mountaineering Association who
invited the other two Services to send a representative. The R.A.F. declined,
having plans of their own, so the Navy was able to nominate two climbers. Jim
Fricker, a pilot with most of the hallmarks of the breed and a brand of humour
all his own, unhappily killed within six months of our return, and myself, a 'fish-head
3=4
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
plumber', were fortunate enough to be chosen. The leader was Captain Tony
Streather, late of the Indian and Pakistan Armies, and now of the Gloucestershire
Regiment. This was to be his fifth Himalayan expedition and his second as leader.
If I say that in him leadership of the highest quality was allied with a profound
knowledge and understanding of the peoples with whom we had to deal; that he
was equally at home talking to the Pakistan C.-in-C. or to a Balti village headman
and was equally respected by both, it will give some indication of how fortunate
we were. The recent publication of a book about his previous expedition has
made me realise that we were not only fortunate, we were privileged. For the
rest, there were eight other Army representatives and three Pakistan Army liaison
officers.
The expedition was extraordinary in that it had no specific peak as its objective.
The intention was rather to climb and explore in unknown or comparatively
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
3=5
unknown territory, with the broader aims of learning the problems involved in
organising and managing a major expedition, and of 'training' in the widest sense.
Not surprisingly, in the circumstances, the party was not made up of the best
available climbers. Indeed, our collective skill and experience must have been
much less than that of any previous party of comparable size visiting a major
mountain range.
The original plan was to go to Chitral on the N.W. Frontier, north of the almost
mythical and apparently very beautiful Principality of Swat. The peaks of this area
are almost unknown but, unfortunately, only a few miles across the watershed
is the Oxus River which there forms the boundary between Afghanistan and Russian
Turkestan. The Pakistani authorities decided that they could not allow a Service
party so near that particular border and we had to change our plans at short notice.
We went instead to Baltistan in the north of Kashmir.
From its source east of Gartok the Indus flows noah-westwards, north of the
main Himalayan watershed, for 500 miles before plunging through a two mileshigh gorge, round Nanga Parbat, to the plains. Of the many parallel ranges to the
north of the river the nearest and greatest is the Karakorum containing many of the
world's highest summits; steep and difficult mountains in a harsh and arid region.
No regular monsoon rain reaches these hills but because of their great size they give
birth to the very largest of mountain glacier systems. The Hispar Glacier, for
instance, upon whose southern ramparts we were to have such good fortune, is
thirty-five miles long and, where we overlooked it, three miles wide.
T o the south-west of this region, away from K2 and the great peaks around
the Baltoro glacier, the general height is less. A few big mountains remain,
Rakaposhi among them, but the majority of the peaks, and they are legion, are around
20,000 feet high. It was there we were going, to Arandu and the peaks whose
snows feed the Chogolungma and Kerolungma Glaciers.
We were by no means the first climbers to go to that particular area. The redoubtable American, Fanny Bullock-Workman, her husband and guides, had traversed
it many times in the first decade of this century and the map they made, inaccurate
though it may be in detail, is still in use. Eric Shipton's party was there in 1939,
filling in gaps in the survey to the north and east and, most recently of all, a German
expedition had climbed a 23,000 feet peak called Spantik at the head of the
Chogolungma Glacier in 1956. The latter party had also made the first sketch
map, so far as I know, of the Kerolungma Glacier, which we were to get to know
well and is one of those areas that mysteriously get omitted from surveys. That this
sketch is appreciably more accurate now is to the credit of the Sapper members
of our expedition.
KARACHI
TO SKARDU
We travelled by civil aircraft to Karachi, whence the P.A.F. took us and our
gear in two stages through Rawalpindi to Skardu on the upper Indus. It took us a
week to make all the last minute arrangements, banking, customs clearance and so
on, and to get from Karachi to Skardu.
'And the end of the fight is a tomb stone white
With the name of the late deceased
And the epitaph drear: "A fool lies here
Who tried to hustle the East".'
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
326
1959
However, this was something of a record, due almost entirely to Tony's wide
acquaintance among the military hierarchy of the country.
Of the enforced wait in Karachi only one day really bears thinking about; we
were kindly invited out to the Yacht Club which stands on an island in the harbour.
I t has been said that the three most useless things to have in a sailing boat are a
typewriter, a wheelbarrow and a naval officer, but my conscience remains clear on
what was a 'copybook' capsize. Having been reassured about sharks, my only
concern was over the loss of a favourite pipe.
I t wasn't until later that I learnt
about the numerous sea-snakes.
We went up to Rawalpindi in two fights, forty-eight hours apart. Those who
arrived first took the opportunity to visit Peshawur and the Khyber Pass. They were
invited to stay for the re-opening of a local feud, scheduled for 1630. Reluctantly
they thought~itwiser to refuse, although Tony explained that feuds aren't what
they were, only sporadic sniping. At this time, like many others before me, I was
undergoing the common but explosive internal disorder associated with the dustladen air of Karachi and was quite uninterested in what I was missing.
Finally the day came when, again in two fights, a P.A.F. Bristol freighter lifted us
out of the plains to Skardu. This fight, which is also flown regularly by Pakistan International Airways, takes two hours or thereabouts, passes entirely over the most uncompromising mountain terrain and is only undertaken when the weather forecast is beyond
reproach. As for most things, early morning is the best time and the freighter was in
the air heading north for the second time by 0800. This, almost above all, was what
we had been waiting for. On the fight into Rawalpindi dust had obscured all views
and for most of us this was the day on which we were first to see the Himalayas.
The nature of our approach led to initial disappointment, so far as I was concerned. but it was short-lived. There was no ereat white wall of mountains. such
as
and the Lama saw, for we were outfla&ng the range, following the general
line of the Indus and entering the hills at a point where, slashed by great river
systems and rising only slowly from the plains their sheer height and immensity
is at first not avvkent; We flew due north at first over steev but cultivated foothills; under the starboard wing the first, rather unimpressive snow summits were
soon disregarded in favour of what appeared ahead. Flying at about 13,000 feet
we seemed only to scrape over the Babusar Pass to rejoin the Indus and then swung
eastwards into the gorge itself. Below, the convulsive white ribbon of river; rising
from it on either hand to well above our wing tips the precipitous, decaying lower
slopes and, above all, the snow peaks we had come to see. T o the north, the
symmetrical cone of Rakaposhi and the bulk of Haramosh, scenes of triumph and of
sublime tragedy, held our attention only until, on the other hand, Nanga Parbat
came into view. Passing, as we did, along the north face of this enormous mountain,
grave of so many expeditions, we could see quite clearly the route that had so many
times been tried in vain and, above the glistening levels of the Silbersattel, could
almost trace the line taken by Buhl on his gallant lone ascent. Impressed beyond
measure, it was with the keennest sense of anticipation that we touched down on
the somewhat Harry Tate airstrip at Skardu.
-
&.
When we of the second party reached the Rest-House, set on earthen cliffs overlooking the Indus and eight dusty miles from the airstrip, it was to find chaos
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
. . . . _ . .. . . . .
327
.
KMOL UNGMA BASIN
.......
. . . . ..
/0,/-/-
Glaciers :.:. ..:-.:..:...
\.\\\\\\%.
Camps
-4-
already well-established. The compound was stacked high with boxes that were
being systematicallyrifled by climbers anxious to sight boots, axes and other belongings
that had left England by sea six weeks previously. Nothing had gone astray. Offstage the Rest-House cook and general factotum was preparing tea, a task which
328
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
kept him occupied for about three hours during which throats became progressively
more dust-laden. It wasn't so much the lack of facilities as a case of acute incompetence in the face of unaccustomed demand. However, it arrived at last and Tony
took the opportunity to explain that because of the quantity of gear and the number
of porters that we would need we would be going up the valley in two parties,
twenty-four hours apart. He also gave us all specific responsibilities. I was
delighted to be detailed off to look after the climbing equipment, a task likely to be
less exacting than administering the food, for instance, and much less open to
criticism.
The more or less frantic activity that had characterised our stay was intensified
the following day. Six high altitude porters were selected, Baltis from the nearby
village of Satpura who had first made a name for themselves on Houston's expedition
to K2 in 1953 and had acquired a deal of experience since. These we issued with
boots and other equipment which they promptly donned, to look more villainous
than before: presumably prestige outweighed the discomfort of balaclava helmets
and flannel shirts in the blazing sunshine at 7,000 feet. Arrangements were made
for the first contingent of coolies to appear at 0600 the following morning and,
largest task of all, every scrap of gear and food was unpacked and repacked in 60 lb.
coolie loads. Our plans on reaching Arandu, five days march away at the foot of
the Chogolungma Glacier, would depend on a number of factors and in any case
would involve a halt of twenty-four hours, so the packing at this stage was straightforward and did not involve making up special loads as would be the case when we
started climbing in earnest. Private gear also had to be sorted, one kitbag per head,
the balance being left behind in the charge of the Political Agent. This helpful
official presently invited us to what was a memorable dinner party at which we met
all the heads of local administration, including the lawyer who had been born and
bred in Skardu, had qualified in Lahore and elsewhere and had returned to practise
in his home, the only legal authority for 33,000 people. His work, he told me, was
largely concerned with land tenure, there had been only one murder in the previous
ten years.
Next morning we were up at 0500 and this was to be the pattern for the march.
As it was dark at 2000 we were invariably asleep soon after, apart from which, by
starting off by seven one had two cool hours walking, the best of the day. At first,
anxious to get fit, most of us carried personal loads of up to thirty pounds; few
did so after the first couple of days. This relapse into decadence did not apparently
affect the rate at which we became fit, and subsequently acclimatised. It is arguable
that the more violent, one might say masochistic, approach to fitness is as pointless
as it is painful.
One of the first to leave, I had at last leisure to appreciate the beauty of situation
that is Skardu's. For a space of a dozen miles or so the valley opens out to a level
strath, perhaps seven miles wide at the most and in the centre of this space a great
rock, a thousand feet high and more and a couple of miles long, dominates the valley
and diverts the river in a sharp bow to the north. At the apex of this bend, the
Shigar, the tributary we were to follow, joins the main stream; to the south of the
rock, on an alluvial plain and irrigated by the streams which flow from the hills to
the south, lies the town. Astride the northernmost line of east-west communication
on the sub-continent, it is a town of strategic significance, as the ancient fort halfway
up the rock bore witness, and even in recent times it has seen much fighting, the
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN, 1959
329
Kashmir Cease-Fire Line being only a few miles further up the Indus. The natives
live the lives of subsistence farmers in the main. as do the inhabitants of the side
valleys, and the Government of Pakistan, whilst anxious to help, is understandably
reluctant to spend money on territory, the sovereignty of which is still in dispute.
Undoubtedly much can be done but the most important advance of civilisation in
those parts so far has been the establishment of a military hospital which the
civilian population is slowly beginning to make use of.
Retrospectively, the march in was a delight. At the time its concomitant discomforts could not easily be disregarded. On the first day we crossed the Indus
in a ferry that ~lexander'ssoldiers might have recognised, and walked twelve level,
dusty miles to a camp site on the polo field at Shigar. Thence the valley turned
westwards, wide and open with the river spread and passive among sand bars. Such
was our lack of appreciation of the clearness of the air that from Shigar we were
picking out as the next night's halting place the green shade of a village thirty-five
miles distant. The second day, as always, was quite the worst; there were seventeen
miles of it, predominantly it seems of sand. First, however, we had to cross the
Shigar by zakh or goatskin raft. This was quite exciting, the river being far from
placid. The rafts, about eight feet square, consist of some thirty goatskins lashed
to a bamboo framework. The propitiatory prayers, chanted at each departure, are
a little alarming until one realises the skill of the supplicants. The crossing took
some time as there were about eighty coolies and only two rafts, but the policeman
and the two Northern Scouts, who had been lent to us for the purpose, maintained
a semblance of discipline and there were no hitches. The day's travail was redeemed
by the camp site at Ghulabpore, Place of the Roses. Here the village schoolmaster
brought us fruit, the children gathered round in wonder at the strangers and were
won in an hilarious half-hour which owed much to the Goon Show.
On the third day we passed the confluence of the Braldu and the Basha, the two
tributaries which together form the Shigar, and as we followed the latter the valley
became narrower, the sides steeper and the path rougher. The last camp site before
Arandu I shall always remember. On a small terrace some 300 feet above the river,
it looked downstream, across a profusion of lush green cultivation. Gone were the
interminable scree fans, two and three miles wide, of the lower valley and over
against us a snow peak of peerless grace bound the spell. At mid-morning of the
fifth day we rounded the last bend of the valley and saw, a short four miles ahead,
the last patch of cultivation that was Arandu and the grey rubble-strewn tongue of
the chogolungma Glacier.
Arandu, at 9,500 feet, is the highest village in this valley that is permanently
inhabited. Intense local irrigation makes it a pleasant place of restful colour in
summer but it must be very different in winter under threat of avalanche and
sunless for many weeks. The Chogolungma Glacier, which menaced the village
at the turn of the century, has retreated in the last fifty years and now ends half a
mile beyond. Filling the whole width of the valley and covered in dirt and debris,
its mournful appearance is typical of the lower parts of large glaciers.
High to the left a narrow gorge revealed the snout of a smaller glacier, the snow
basin behind it and a segment of glittering ridge. T o the right another gorge, more
deeply cut, led, we knew, to the Kerolungma Glacier and the south side of the
Hispar Wall.
We suffered a day's delay at Arandu. A day spent in inactivity, calling the bluff
330
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
of the local coolies who had asked for 50 per cent above Government rates. As
predicted by Tony, they returned amenable.
Our first concern was to reconnoitre the Chogolungma and Kerolungma Glaciers
and the surrounding peaks and to get acclimatised. We divided therefore into two
parties, of which the largest and the first to leave was bound for the Kerolungma
basin. Acclimatisation is a matter of persistence allied with patience and, as will be
seen, we made height slowly. A point to which Tony attached much importance
was that, to start with, we should sleep below the highest point we had reached.
I do not know how much this practice contributed but certainly we suffered only
transitorily from the effects of altitude.
During the early part of the expedition there was a succession of occasions on
which one felt that at last one was 'off'. The day we left Arandu for the Kerolungma
Glacier was the last of these-we really were. The Kero, to use the obvious
abbreviation, appeared from the map to be about ten miles long and to have a
number of small tributaries. On the north it was bounded by part of a twenty-mile
east-west ridge called the Hispar Wall and it was on this ridge that we hoped to
find some climbable peaks.
The route lay up the gorge on the north side of the main valley and, the bridge
being down, it was necessary first to cross the tongue of the Chogolungma Glacier.
It is worthwhile, perhaps, to describe, briefly, the end of a large glacier such as this.
From the valley rises a wall of dirty ice 300 feet high. This wall is probably not
unbroken and access to the glacier not difficult. More or less in the centre of the
wall is a large hole from which emerges the stream, for want of a better word, brown
and raging at its very birth. The surface of the glacier is by no means level and is
completely covered in rubble which is, of course, by no means stable. The Chogo
was in fact covered in detritus from the hillsides for the two and a half days march
up it. It will be readily understood that such a surface is both treacherous and
uncomfortable to walk on. Normally it is avoided until the snow is reached by
making use of the lateral moraines, walls of earth pushed up on either side of the
glacier, or the small valleys formed between these moraines and the hillside. However we were crossing it and had no easy option. At its tongue the Chogo is a good
mile across and it took us little less than an hour to get over.
Off the ice, we passed the site of an old fort whiciindicated that we were on an
old raiding and trading route between the Shigar and Indus valleys and the submontane regions to the north-west. We were to find sufficient reason why this route
is no longer popular. The gorge we entered was thoroughly unpleasant and the
path a vestigial affair traversing excessively steep slopes of unstable earth peppered
with large and apparently very insecure boulders, mostly the size of small cottages.
On the second day we emerged on to a pleasant green alp at about 12,000 feetsummer grazing, though how the cattle enjoyed the trip up cannot even be surmised.
The view down the narrow cleft of the gorge which framed a conical snow peak
some 4,000 feet above us, was acclaimed the best yet and by noon we were slithering
about on the slag-heap that was the snout of the Kero.
Here the ?arty divided and six of us, including Tony Streather, with two high
altitude porters and some coolies, continued up the left-hand side of the Kero to
a pleasant camp site beside a small lake. The others crossed the glacier to follow
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN, 1959
33I
its major tributary, the Alchori. That day we made camp about noon and later
ascended a small nodule of about 15,000 feet partly to spy out the land and partly
for acclimatisation. The next, we crossed the glacier and went a mile or two further
up it to a fine camp site that we were to get to know well. The same afternoon the
training programme continued with an appalling slog up a steep and uninteresting
grass spur behind the camp. The sight of a herd of ibex, after which the camp was
named, did something to take one's mind off one's feet, lungs and legs, but by the
time we reached 16,000 feet, on snow by then, I was on my hands and knees.
By this time Tony had decided that the prospects of finding climbable peaks
was good enough to get the rest of the party up from Arandu. So, having helped
four of us to establish a camp, on snow at last, at about 14,500 feet, he and one
other and the two porters went back to Arandu; whereupon the weather, which
had been thoroughly friendly, fell from grace. The day after the others had left
we went on up to the Nushik La, the pass at the extreme head of the glacier, beneath
an iron-grey sky with a double corona round the sun. The La is 16,600 feet high
and to my delight I made it on my feet-this is not only more dignified but is
recommended by the text books. This was the point where the erstwhile trading
route already referred to crossed the Hispar Wall but there have been some major
changes in the structure of its northern side in the last hundred years. We peered
down a very steep wall, about 4,000 feet high, threatened by dilapidated snow
cornices and pinnacles of ice, and leading abruptly to a small glacier which debouched
into the Hispar Glacier itself. Beneath this threatening weather the 3-mile wide
tumult of this enormous river of ice and the three great 25,000 feet peaks behind it
were sombre and almost menacing. We did not linger. Next morning it was raining
lightly but persistently from a 16,000 feet cloud base. Equally ungracious we
retired, reaching Ibex Camp as it began to snow.
It continued to snow on and off, mostly on, for forty-eight hours, during which
period David Philpott, with whom I was sharing a tent, spent much time in culinary
experiment, some of it almost successful; I composed a particularly uninspired
crossword and we both listened with decreasing apprehension to a persistent and
adjacent avalanche, familiarity breeding indifference. We also had the pleasure of
digging the tent out at 4 o'clock of a Sunday morning. Wakened by a slight sense
of suffocation I realised our predicament at the same time as David fought his way,
grumbling, through the entrance sleeve. His reappearance, after clearing his own
side only, shattered my scarce-formed illusion and, in my turn, I blundered out to
this repellant task.
In all, about 24 feet of snow fell and there was abundant time to consider the
implications. As the temporary leader of the party I had very much in mind a
remark made by Tony, at some earlier stage, to the effect that one must avoid being
in a position where the onset of bad weather means a choice between a retreat,
dangerous either because of the weather itself or the soft snow that it probably
brings, and starvation. Our food supplies were undoubtedly limited and the passage
of the gorge in heavy snow or rain might prove dangerous and even impossible. In
the event, no critical decision was forced upon me, the relief party of a dozen porters
were only twenty-four hours late, but there had been some substance in my fears.
The party that had gone up the Alchori returned down the gorge as arranged at
the height of the storm and had an exciting time. In the gorge it was raining heavily,
much of the path had been washed out and it was whilst they were examining a
332
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN, 1959
particularly mauvais pas across a rotten gulley that the inevitable fall of rock occurred.
I t was far too close for comfort but the only casualties were a few coolie-loads of
gear, from which the coolies had providently detached themselves shortly beforehand.
With a clear sky once again the thaw was rapid, avalanches incessant and the
heat and light intense. Only by covering the tents with sleeping bags and other
gear was it possible to keep reasonably coo2 and the reflected sunlight off the new
snow was searing, despite snow goggles. On the second day, after the snow had
stopped it seemed safe to attempt something whilst waiting for the others to join
us. With one intermediate camp we climbed a minor peak of about 17,000 feet
behind Ibex Camp. Concerned at the quantity of new snow we left the last camp
at first light whilst it was yet firmly frozen and were rewarded by the perfect,
breathless beauty of a mountain sunrise. From the peak, which was really the final
lump on a spur running south from the Hispar Wall, we had our first clear view
of a considerable portion of the wall itself and, over it, the tops of the high peaks
we had seen from the Nushik La. In the low early morning light every detail was
crystal clear and washed with blue and gold. Conscious of the beauty we were
nevertheless more interested in the palpable possibility of a route which led safely
to the crest of the wall whence something might be done on the adjacent peaks.
It appeared that by moving up the Kero to the next spur west and then climbing
up or alongside that spur we might be able to avoid the barricade of icefalls where
subsidiary glaciers, coming from the wall, tumbled the last thousand feet or so on
to the Kero.
In the next two days we prospected this approach and, in due course and without
much difficulty, found an ideal site for an advanced base on a more or less level
snowfield at about 16,500 feet. The site lay on what was in effect a terrace, halfway up the southern slope of the wall and close beside three great rock teeth that
here formed the crest of the spur that we had followed. Between the uppermost
tooth and its neighbour was an easy snow col leading to a similar snow and ice
terrace to the one that we were on. It seemed probable that we could gain the crest
of the wall both east and west of the peak that subtended our spur and hence would
have a chance at least of climbing three peaks, the one at the top of the spur and
the two adjacent ones. Leaving a tent and as much gear as possible we went straight
back, through deep wet snow, to Ibex Camp, where we hoped to find the others,
to organise porter loads to stock the advanced base for our campaign.
It might be pointed out here that the major problem of climbing high mountains
is one of logistics-how much of what must be carried to a particular camp to support
so many climbers for so many days. The purely technical problem of getting up
the mountain may be much simpler. Unlike climbing in the lesser ranges such as
the Alps, one is so completely dependent upon oneself and the scale is so vast that
it boils down to finding the easiest route that is safe. If a safe route cannot be found
one goes elsewhere. Clearly such a statement cannot stand unqualified, though it
was literally true of this expedition. T o eschew all objective dangers, I do not speak
of subjective error, may be to relinquish all hope of achieving the prize one has
come so far to gain. Hillary records that he was by no means happy about the
condition of the snow during the first part of his climb to the summit of Everest.
On a lesser mountain he might well have turned back but 'this was Everest' and
he decided t3 'push it' a bit. Who is to say that he was wrong? T o condemn those
who have deliberately exposed themselves and paid the price of their temerity is
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN, 1959
333
easy. It is also arrogant in the extreme, inferring as it does that they had not even
recognised that a choice lay before them.
Two days later we re-occupied the advanced base camp in strength and discovered
its chronic disadvantage. The sun was off it by 1530. At no time did we experience
any very low temperatures but the rapidity with which the temperature fell at
sunset was at first startling; half an hour after wallowing in knee-deep snow one was
sliding and stumbling over its frozen surface.
The following day four of us crossed the col in the spur to the terrace beyond,
climbed a steep and wilting snow-wall and gained by easy slopes the col between
the left-hand pair of peaks. We carried enough gear for two to stay there for two
nights, and having started late and worried about the effect of the morning sun
on that beastly wall, David Philpott and I wasted little time before setting off back
for the advanced base, where we arrived at the same time as Tony Streather, a porter
and some more food.
We lunched, moved the camp a hundred yards eastwards where the sun would
last a little longer, sorted gear, read, listened avidly to Tony's yarns of the Frontier
and watched, with some apprehension, the steady approach of a pall of cloud from
the south-west. Ere it had turned a disagreeable shade of blackish-purple we were
resigned to the worst and had made sure that we knew where to find everything
with the minimum of digging. The night was distressingly warm but only a few
inches of snow fell and the morning, though unsettled, was clear.
We left, leisurely, at seven, the four of us taking turns to break the trail in the
soft snow. We were bound for the col between the right-hand pair of peaks, Tony
and Jan Ridd the porter helping to carry the gear for David and me. Though very
conscious of the labour I was keyed up at the thought of what the next two days
might bring. The chance of two first ascents, uncertain as it was, begat partially
suppressed excitement, determination and hope tinged with fear-of failure, I
suppose. A twinge of jealousy that the other two had a better chance, a day's start
and a quite likely route up the centre peak from their side, asserted itself but didn't
last long.
The way led easily along and up the shelf on which we had pitched the advanced
base. At its further end, we knew, this shelf broke away in a confusion of ice-cliffs
to a deep trench which ran at right angles to the wall and cut deeply back into it
between us and the right-hand peak. As we moved higher we saw that the back
of the shelf was also growing steeper and eventually formed an upper tier of icecliffs. Where these cliffs started, however, a steep but easy snow slope led to an
upper terrace whence it seemed that the col could be gained. We followed this
line without concern, for although it led through a tumble of avalanche debris and
where an avalanche has once fallen another may follow, this was the remains of a
new snow avalanche and the slopes above had done their worst. As we had hoped,
the upper terrace proved accommodating, though very soft, and led without serious
difficulty to a point on the crest of the ridge, just short of the col, where a pile of
rocks emerged from the smother.
Tony didn't linger-the snow was getting softer every moment and would be
thoroughly unpleasant to descend. He had beaten the back of the cornice on the
far side of the ridge with his axe and pronounced it safe-there was nowhere else
to pitch the tent anyway-and ploughed off with Jan Ridd, thigh deep. Doubtfully,
David and I applied ourselves to the job of levelling out enough space for our tent.
334
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
Our faith in Tony's judgment, which had only wavered slightly, was restored when
we found the cornice to be of iron-hard ice about eight feet thick and well supported
from below. Still, it was an airy site.
Not only airy, it was magnificent. We sat on the extreme crest of the Hispar
Wall; behind us, our route, the trench of the Kero, a mass of intervening peaks,
and beyond, over all, Nanga Parbat, fifty miles away and filling the sky; to the left
the ridge fell slightly and rose easily to the centre peak-in the bag; to the right
our pile of rocks hid the col behind and the eye flew straight to the much more
imposing face of the right-hand peak-food for thought; in front of us, space-at
our feet, 7,000 breathtaking feet below, the crumpled carpet of the Hispar Glacier,
creeping westwards from the Hispar Pass; beyond it the bastion of Kanjut Sar,
14,000 feet above the glacier, a tangle of peaks, and Sinkiang.
The eagle was not impressed. Held motionless at our level by some chance of
updraught, it observed, unwinkingly, our intrusion. A disdainful lift of a wing tip
and it glided across the ridge crest below us and out and down towards the Hispar.
Long before it had reached the centre of the glacier it was lost to view in that enormity
of space.
Despite our efforts of the previous day, the advanced base, a dot with smaller
dots that moved, still lost the sun early. Contentedly, we supped in a golden stillness
and determined to go for the centre peak next day. It was the rational decision
allowing another day for acclimatisation before we tried its lofiier, more difficult
neighbour. Another day too for the sun to shift every scrap of new snow from that
beetling face. But, more than this, only by climbing the centre peak first could we
hope to be the first on both. I do not think that this consideration swayed us but I
am sure that it was in the back of our minds. Had our baser instincts not coincided
with our judgment there would have had to be an unpleasant renunciation. Sunset,
at this camp, was in instalments; twice did it reappear from behind upthrusts of
cornice on the ridge before leaving us finally. At this moment, had we known, the
other party was descending the left-hand peak, out of our sight, barely beating the
darkness.
Early next morning I became aware of persistent chatter. This was unusual as
David was wont to maintain a decorously morose silence on these occasions.
Gathering that there was something or someone to be seen I went through the
convulsions necessary to emerge from a double sleeping bag in a confined space
and stuck a face out. A short mile away on the Hispar side of the wall and a little
beyond the centre peak, just below one of the larger cornices and with all space
below, was one of our Pakistan liaison officers. This unusual circumstance murdered
sleep. A variety of possible reasons for this behaviour suggested themselves, all
more or less disturbing, but he seemed quite unconcerned and soon disappeared
from view towards easier ground. We had to wait forty-eight hours for an explanation-it seemed that this was the last of a series of abortive attempts to reach the
centre peak from the other side. Of course a white nylon rope does not show up
well against a white snow-slope in bright sunlight but as a spectacle it was unattractive, especially at five in the morning.
I n due course we set out for the centre peak. An hour sufficed but it was not
entirely plain sailing. The ridge swung left as we approached the peak which lay
back a little way from the main ridge line. It was straightforward enough but, fifty
feet below the summit, there was a vertical step some twenty feet high. This
THE A.M.A. EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
335
appeared to be composed of rotten rock plastered inartistically with bulges of wet
snow. The face to the right was no less steep and of similar construction and we
were forced to traverse leftwards for two hundred feet on steep snow, thawing rapidly
in the early sun, to gain the south ridge. This led, without ado, to a pleasantly
attenuated summit. Sitting at probably rather less than 19,000 feet, we could see
clearly the two sections of ridge linking the three peaks; on the left-hand section
the pair from the other camp were moving away from us and beyond them their
footsteps on the top of the left-hand peak was clearly visible. After the alarms and
excursions of the earlier morning it was pleasant to see them and doubly so to
observe that they had not preceded us. Down the line of the south ridge we could
see the tracks leading up to Cornice Camp and a party of four coming up from
advanced base. The snow was softening rapidly and we wasted little time in
descending the south ridge to greet the others on the upper terrace.
These four, Tony, Jim, John Clegg and Inayat Ullah were hoping also to climb
the centre peak and, not twenty minutes after we had met them, set off up the south
ridge. It was too late. After a few hundred feet of treadmilling in snow that was
rapidly becoming dangerous as well as exhausting, they had to give up and followed
David and me back to Cornice Camp, for the view.
It was decided that Jim should remain with us to strengthen the essay on the
right-hand peak on the morrow. This presented minor problems, two lilos and
double sleeping bags and a two-man tent between three, but it was only for one
night since we would have to move down after our attempt to make room for another
pair. Jim's presence also gave rise to some mildly acrimonious discussion. As a
professional pilot he had a distrust, indeed contempt, of instruments in general and
of altimeters in particular. Apparently he preferred to lean out of the window
and have a look. David on the other hand is a Sapper and, as such, had been entrusted
with both a prismatic compass and a pocket altimeter to enable him to make a
reliable sketch map of the Kero basin. 'Guesstimation' and observation of known
points at once clashed with the scientific approach. Tone was lent to the brawl
by such O.K. phrases as 'diurnal variation' and I happily maintained an outward
appearance of neutrality, though my sympathies were with Jim. The higher the
better. A subsequent visit to the R.G.S. showed that the instrument was on one
occasion reading about 900 feet low but Jim prejudiced his case by trying to persuade
Tony that the peak that looked like Haramosh wasn't. Tony's acquaintance with
that mountain was too recent for there to have been any chance of error.
After the others had gone we scrambled up the rocks in stockinged feet to consider
our problem and argument temporarily ceased. Beyond the rock the ridge fell a
few hundred feet and then rose in a rightwards curve, levelling off about 1,500 feet
above to form the summit which, like its neighbour, lay back a little to the south.
T o the left, heavy cornices threatened the unbroken sweep of the north side of the
wall, plunging to the Hispar Glacier. The face of the mountain resembled the
upper part of the letter D, seen backwards. Viewed en facz, it looked appallingly
steep but we knew from other views that this was largely illusory, though it was
likely to be quite steep enough.
From just below the summit an ice-couloir of impressive proportions occupied all
the right-hand half of the face and swept, unbroken, down to a deep trench several
thousand feet below us. What little snow the couloir held was getting short shrift
from the afternoon sun and the hiss of its parting was continuous. T o the left of
336
THE A.M.A.
EXPEDITION TO BALTISTAN,
1959
the couloir a prow of rock projected from the face and argued an easing of the slope
above, while to the left again, between the prow and the ridge, an area of mixed
snow, ice and rock seemed to offer the only chance of a route. By no means satisfied
but aware that the longer we looked the less we would like it, we returned to the tent
and the wrangling.
Unable to deviate from a martial rigidity we spent a cramped night, but not a
cold one, in the restricted space. It is worthy of remark that this was not one of
the occasions when we ate off the floor of the tent, despite the difficulties of cooking.
At one time, a few weeks before, it seemed that David and I were doomed to make
a habit of this. It was undesirable not only on the grounds of hygiene but also
because it invariably sent David into hysterics and I had to clean up the mess.
We left at 0445 under a promising sky but the weakness of the night's frost was
soon apparent as I sank through the snow crust more than once as we descended
to by-pass the rocks. Past them we bore up to the left, approaching-but not too
closely-the treacherous crest of the ridge. This we paralleled, rising slowly over
a few steep little walls of snow until, an hour after leaving the camp, we reached the
foot of the broken rocks of the face itself. Our closer inspection showed the general
angle of the face above to be about 50 degrees and, though this may not sound
much to those who have not climbed, it is in fact pretty steep when measured in
thousands of feet. The rocks were clearly rotten, as we had expected, but threading
them an ill-defined and shallow gully held enough snow of the right consistency
for kicking reliable steps. At the top of the rocks we paused, not overjoyed to find
that the hoped-for easing of the angle had not materialised. If anydung the slopes
above steepened slightly. The ridge was close on our left, curving over and levelling
out about 300 feet above our heads. We set off diagonally upwards to the right.
The footing was ice, overlain with about four inches of snow, curiously ravaged
by the sun into a son of filigree that was enough for our immediate needs but would
clearly not withstand the heat of day. If it failed us, the descent would be a protracted affair involving much step-cutting in the ice beneath. We made what haste
seemed advisable. Gaining height fairly rapidly we soon found ourselves crossing
the extreme head of the couloir. This steepened out of sight below and the eye
had no rest until the edge of the lower terrace 3,000 feet below. Aware of and
impressed by the exposure, I was more interested to see that the ridge, now very
close above us, crept in behind the belt of heavy cornices that frowned above the
couloir and had threatened to bar access to the summit. A few moments later the
morning sunlight flooded over the crest on to my face, a 10-foot wall of firm snow
and we were up.
The expedition still had three weeks to run but, for me, its climax was there,
at 20,000 feet, in the warm glow of early morning and the full flush of achievement.
AFTERMATH
During the ensuing weeks we failed to find any feasible route on a higher and
much more exacting peak, while the other half of the party reached a 23,000 feet
summit at the head of the Chogolungma Glacier. A continuation of the same rich
experience, this period was anticlimactic from the moment we knew that we could
not hope to succeed.
I am conscious that there is much else that I have not recorded; the hot springs
at Bisil and Chu Tran where our toilets attracted audiences which would have done
THE CHANNEL TUNNEL I N PRE-WORLD WAR I STRATEGY
337
well to follow our example but, mercifully, did not; John Clegg taking blood samples
from reluctant Baltis, dispensing aspirins and sticking plaster with charming
impartiality and anathematising them all as hypochondriacs, especially the character
who got a headache whenever clouds came over the sun; primulas at 14,000 feet
and acres of burgeoning apricot trees on our march back; the voyage down the
Shigar on zakhs, three days march in one, when the White Ensign fluttered bravely
from shoal and sand-bar, and Jim contrived a most un-nautical appearance having
shaved his beard but retained his moustache; the U.N. Observer at Skardu, a New
Zealander on his way up to the Cease-Fire Line, who gave us beer on our return.
These and many other memories will remain to remind me that once I was that
supremely happy being, 'the dreamer whose dreams come true'.
M. B. THOMAS
The Channel Tunnel in Pre-World
War I Strategy
N
APOLEON was fascinated by the thought of a dry-road invasion route to
England in the form of a tunnel under the English Channel. Queen Victoria
saw in the idea the perfect, albeit expensive, seasick remedy for cross-Channel
travellers. Merchants saw in the tunnel a boon to trade. From 1882 to 1906 a
Channel Tunnel Bill was often introduced into Parliament and invariably voted
down in the House of Commons. The whole question turned upon the breach of
insularity. As expressed by General Sir Garnet Wolseley, then Adjutant-General,
in a memorandum of June, 1882, 'Were a tunnel made, England as a nation could
be destroyed without any warning whatever when Europe was in a condition of
profound peace'. What the General feared was that France or another power
holding the Calais end of a tunnel might seize the Dover end by a coup de main
prior to a declaration of war, and thereby facilitate a surprise invasion of England
in force. The C.I.D. unanimously rejected the project on military grounds (February,
1907), a decision approved by the Government. The Admiralty was throughout
this period opposed to the tunnel. 'It would appear to be most unwise to permit
a step to be taken which would in any degree lessen the security of our shores from
raid or invasion, or which, in the hour of danger, would hamper us by entailing
upon us the necessity of keeping forces at home which could be better and more
effectively employed elsewhere'.' The General Staff was equally opposed to the
construction of the Tunnel.
A Punch cartoon (2nd January, 1907) shows Father Neptune, waist-deep in the
Channel, on the English shore, pleading with Dame Britannia (on shore): 'Look
here, madam. I've been your protector all these years, and now I hear you think
Admiralty memorandum, 'Channel Tunnel', January, 1907. The official papers cited in
footnotes are with the Admiralty Record Office papers and among Lord Fisher's papers in
the custody of the Duke of Hamilton at Lennoxlove.
338
THE CHANNEL TUNNEL IN PRE-WORLD W A R I STRATEGY
of undermining my power'. Dame Britannia: 'Well, the fact is I want to see more
of my friends over there, and I never look my best when I've been seasick'.
lnpre-~ntentedays it was only natural that the argument that the power of offence
and aggression by Britain's ranking potential enemy, France, might be assisted, was
decisive in the matter. The drawbacks to the Tunnel sensibly diminished after
1905, as relations with France grew closer. I t was now appreciated that the Tunnel
would be of no small use in maintaining supplies for thesouth of England during
the first period of a war, that is, before the command of the sea had been won, and
while the Navy was too busy with its prime duty of seeking out and destroying the
enemy's main fleet to trouble about the light cruisers and converted liners which
would be let loose upon British commerce.
But the opposition to the Tunnel remained vociferous right down to the war.
There was fear of a surprise invasion through the Tunnel-international relations
were changeable-in the-temporary absence of the Fleet; it would lead to perpetual
scares and panics; it would 'un-island' England, modify her reliance on her seafrontier, and force adoption of conscription; and it would lead to the weakening of
the Navy, since the Tunnel would be used to prove that the food supply was safe
and that the Navy ought therefore to be reduced. The opposition was not a party
matter. The Times (3rd January, 1914) stressed the strategic disadvantage: 'For an
unarmed country like England to offer a potential enemy a means of ingress and
a line of subsequent communications which may completely elude the action of the
Navy and paralyse the right arm of our defence, would be the greatest of all conceivable blunders'. The Manchestm Guardian (6th August, 1913) emphasised the
entangling aspect: 'The risks, political, social, and military, of our becoming a
Continental power, tied to the Continental system of alliances, are enormous, and
the Tunnel would tend to increase them'.
Notwithstanding the powerful opposition in the press, the Tunnel project came
to be viewed favourably in some official circles on the eve of the war. Up to 1908
it had been assumed that the Navy was capable of protecting British oversea commerce
in war, not perhaps absolutely, but to an extent sufficient to safeguard the food
supply and the import of raw material. However, the C.I.D. at its meeting of
6th February, 1913, noted that since 1908 naval conditions had materially altered
to Britain's detriment, and that, especially in the earlier stages of a war, an appreciable percentage of loss by the capture of British ships might be expected. Churchill
had practically stated at this meeting that the Admiralty could not guarantee the
immunity of commerce. Adoption of a system of national insurance of merchant
shipping could not affect the percentage of loss, although it might induce shipowners to send more ships to sea. The loss would pro tanto reduce the supply of
imported commodities and raise their price, and the internal difficulties anticipated
by Churchill from high prices due to high freights would equally result from high
prices due to loss by capture. Under these conditions the Tunnel scheme was
resurrected as a compensation for the deteriorated naval conditions. Fisher,
originally against the Tunnel, now, in 1912-13, changed his mind. In an eloquent
memorandum written in typical Fisherese, he asserted that
'any old woman of either sex subject to "hysteria Navalis" would do well to learn
Sir A. Wilson's memorandum on invasion [of 19111 off by heart like the Lord's
Prayer and recite it with the same purpose as a devout Roman Catholic deals
with his rosary. Yes, it is true, it is not invasion we have to fear, it is starvation.
THE CHANNEL TUNNEL I N PRE-WORLD WAR I STRATEGY
339
As Sir A. Conan Doyle points out, and hundreds of others before him pointed
out, at any moment we have but a few days' food in this country and a "food
panic" in this country on the outbreak of war would be possibly more disastrous
than any conceivable "invasion panic". As a French Admiral acutely observed
to the writer, "the belly comes before patriotism", and with the fourpenny loaf
at four shillings the First Sea Lord would require to be Cromwellian in his
methods to prevent popular clamour upsetting his chase of the enemy and his
annihilation of Tirpitz. What is this simple remedy ? A series of tubes like that
of the Bakerloo Tube under the Thames-a score of them between Dover and
Calais would bring us food and oil and wine . . . even the editor of the National
Review will then be able to sleep quiet in his bed.'
Fisher dropped the scheme in 1914,-when he realised that a tunnel, or series of
tunnels, would play into the hands of the generals and their Continental strategy.
The Tunnel question was discussed by the C.I.D. on 3rd March, 14th May and
14th July, 1914. The Admiralty now sounded a rather different note. A memorandum for the C.I.D. saw 'important strategic advantages' in a Tunnel, 'including
a greater assurance for our food supply', provided that the Tunnel 'should be capable
of being flooded or otherwise effectually cut at any time by the Navy through the
gunfire or other action of warships without military assistance, even though both
ends of the Tunnel are in the hands of the enemy.'8 On 27th June Churchill made
the Admiralty position more explicit: 'As long as we are effectively superior at sea
and can command the debouches of the Tunnel and cut the communication by
naval gunfire, there is no reason why we should not have all the advantages of
certain immunity from attack through the Tunnel when France is our enemy,
and of a trustworthy line of communications easily maintained to the Continent
when we are at war with another Power and France is our friend'."he
Admiralty
was prepared to go ahead, if its condition were met. But the General Staff, looking
at the matter purely in its strategic aspect, that is, the utility of the Tunnel for the
despatch and maintenance of an expeditionary force, was opposed to the Tunnel:'In short, from a purely military point of view, if our troops are to become
engaged in a European war fighting alongside the French, the more tunnels
we possess between this country and France the better; if, on the other hand,
no such operations are in contemplation, then we shall be far better off without
any tunnel at all . . . The question is, therefore, ought we to saddle ourselves
permanently with the increased military responsibilities and anxieties involved
by the construction of a tunnel merely for the sake of the advantage to be derived
from one set of conditions alone, which, in the nature of things, is liable to
undergo a complete change at any moment? In the opinion of the General
St& the answer is in the negative.j5
a
'Our Food in War', Spring ( ?), 1913, probably written for the Cabinet or the C.I.D.
C.I.D. Paper, 'Channel Tunnel. Note by the Admiralty', 27th February, 1914, signed by
Vice-Admiral Sir Henry Jackson, the Chief of the Admiralty War Staff.
C.I.D. Paper, 'Channel Tunnel. Note by the First Lord of the Admiralty'.
C.I.D. paper, 'Channel Tunnel. Memorandum by the General Staff', 1st May, 1914:At the C.I.D. meetings of 14th May and 14th July, the two Field-Marshals present, French
and Nicholson, favoured the Tunnel-French, because he held it would improve Britain's
strategical position: 'a strong bridge-head on the French coast with an effective :means
of passing and repassing the Straits. These means could, in the near future, only be secured
by a Tunnel' (14th July). Nicholson, a lukewarm advocate of the Tunnel, did see one
advantage: it might be very useful as an avenue of food and raw material, since the Admiralty
was unable to guarantee them.
340
GENERALLY SPEAKING
The politicians, Asquith, Gray, et al.,shared the opinion of the War Office, Asquith
making the point (C.I.D., 14th July) 'that those who advocated the Tunnel as an
avenue of food supply postulated an indestructible Tunnel. But if all our arrangements in peace had been made on this basis, and the Tunnel were to be cut at the
critical moment, the result would be chaos.' The conclusion of the C.I.D. (14th
July) was that 'strategic conditions have not so altered as to justify a reversal of the
conclusion reached by His Majesty's Government in 1907'.
There the matter lay until after the war, when the discussion was revived. In
December, 1959, a group of English, American and French engineers and economists
completed a two-year investigation into the technical feasibility and the economic
desirability of a Tunnel under the Channel. The conclusions were entirely favourable to the project-specifically, of a 36-mile railway tunnel costing El00 million.
Government approval is all that stands in the way of a scheme which has been
in the news since 1800. Reaction to the last Channel venture has been mixed, as
was to be expected. Field-Marshal Lord Montgomery's verdict, that it was 'a
wildcat scheme' and would end 'the inviolability of our island against the footsteps
of an invader', recalls his illustrious forebears, Wolseley and other Generals of long
ago. T o placate such critics the Tunnel blueprints include a dip at both ends
which could be quickly flooded to drown would-be invaders.
An American journal (Time, 4th January, 1960) has remarked that the only
cogent argument against the construction of a Tunnel, as The Times once
commented, is 'that it would end the debate as to whether it ever was a good plan,
thus depriving posterity of an intellectual exercise from which successive generations
have derived a great deal of good clean fun.'
ARTHUR
J. MARDER
Generally Speaking
T
HERE are undoubtedly diehards in the Service who still deplore the idea of
the General List with its amalgamation of specialists, although by and large it
would seem that the Service has come to accept this change in the name of progress.
It is the writer's opinion, however, that the scheme has been in operation long
enough to warrant a re-appraisal, not necessarily agonising, of some of the aspects
of its present day implementation.
It was an integral part of the conception of the scheme that officers of the (E),
(L) and (S) specialisation of varying rank, seniority, ability and experience were
placed on the general list without choice. In contrast the initial division of the
(X) specialist into the P.L. and G.L. did not cover all ranks and seniority and,
it must be assumed, was based for those divided, on particular ability and experience.
In order to classify the ability and experience of those officers of the (E), (L)
and (S) specialisations who were initially lumped together in the General List,
their numbers may be divided roughly into three groups by rank, namely:
GENERALLY SPEAKING
34I
(a) Cadets
leutenants
(b) L'
(c) Captains
It is believed that examination of the chances of these three groups producing
from their numbers the round peg in the round 'general' hole is now necessary in
order to show how continued benefit should be derived from the scheme.
In group (a) there should be no problem. The individuals have the time to learn
and, provided they have the ability on entry, officers with the required characteristics should be found. There is, however, one initial factor essential to success
which should be mentioned at this stage-the requirement of experience. Unless
these officers can be given suitable appointments on their way up the ladder to fit
them for higher rank in both their specialisation and in G.L.jobs then the scheme,
as it stands at present, must eventually founder. It must be assumed, however,
that those responsible for its inception had this initial factor calculated in terms
of comrnissions/men years and found that the answer gave sufficient opportunity
for the production of good 'specialist' as well as 'general' officers. If this is not
the case then of course the scheme is without true foundation and, i n time, to the
joy of the diehards should be dropped or undergo drastic modification.
In group (b) there lies the dividing line wherein some officers by opportunity
and experience, as well as natural bent, should be better suited to enter wider fields
than to remain wholly in 'specialist' appointments.
For group (c) it cannot be seen how, other than by the exception which proves the
rule, officers could have gained the necessary initial experience to fit them for
appointments outside their specialisation. It is a fact, however, that there originally
came from this group the powerful lobby that was needed to bring about such a
revolutionary change in officers structure.
To be specific in this argument it is necessary to turn to an example and the
supply branch would appear to offer the best chance of illustrating the point to be
made. Perusal of N.C.W. lists has shown that an increasing number of senior
supply officers are being appointed to G.L.personnel jobs at a time when the right
sort of general sea-going appointments for the more junior (S) officers are apparently
as scarce as they ever were. This becomes an anomaly when it is considered that the
basis of experience upon which the senior officer must depend in a personnel job
is in direct proportion to the practical 'man management' he has personally undertaken at sea in the more junior ranks.
Examination of the three groups into which the G.L.has been roughly divided
and the present application of the latter to fill the 'round holes' has therefore lead
the author to conclude that:(a) The scheme was with little foundation adopted (as it were) retrospectively
by appointing senior officers of group (c) to G.L.jobs.
(b) No attempt was made to single out those middle rank officers in group (b)
who could by opportunity and talent be fashioned into round pegs in the
course of available appointments.
(c) The calculations made for the inception of the scheme should have shown
that opportunity was available for officers in group (a) to tread along both
'specialist' and G.L.paths, yet present day availability of billets would not
appear to bear this out.
Whether or not the reader has accepted these conclusions there are two ikcapable
342
IN THE I<ED
facts that must merit some attention and for which a remedy should soon be found :
(a) A lowering of specialist 'know-how' has resulted from the pursuit of generalisation.
(b) There is need for greater encouragement of specialist talents (as essential
as ever in 'one company') in order to bring about a rebirth of specialist
pride.
The conclusions and the need to remedy (a) and (b) above force the writer into
the belief that the non-seamen G.L. officer should, for the very same reasons of
shortage of opportunities for experience which divided the list of the seamen, be
divided within their own ranks.
This split which should occur at Commanders rank should determine which
officers are suitable for the higher G.L. specialist appointments and be based on:(a) The number of appointments of each sort to be filled.
(b) The types of experience that could normally be provided in an officers
career, to fit them for higher rank on each list.
By so doing there should be encouragement and avenues for officers of different
talents and a surety that those officers selected for the G.L. be 'generally' grounded
whilst the equally important ability in a specialist capacity is not overlooked.
PIM
In the Red
T
HE form of the Confidential Reports on officers of the Royal Navy is well
known to readers of THE NAVAL REVIEW-and the heads under which marks are
awarded are established by long and successful usage. The system works. At least
two out of three selections are right. And being a human system dealing with human
beings that is more than a fair margin of success. Few organisations, Service or
civilian, have better men at the top. But is there a bias in the system ? And if so,
what is its nature and is it inevitable ? These are questions on which some reflection
may perhaps be worthwhile.
An important directive relating to Confidential Reports is that adverse passages
in them have to be underlined in red and made known to the officer being reported
upon. And in practice a red underlining on a report equates to a black mark in a
career; indeed some red underlining at some stage in Naval Service is probably
the largest single factor in the non-promotion of those officers of whom others say,
'But X is a splendid chap in every way. How on earth did he miss the bus ?'
It is certainly true that the officer who, like a good Civil Servant, does everything
right and according to the book, is unlikely to have any part of his reports underlined in red. Yet his qualities of leadership may merely be average. On the other
hand, a more dynamic and unorthodox personality may have a report f d of red
underlining. Is there a premium in favour of the currently traditional naval
personality ? And if so, is there any harm in it ? At this stage let the reader draft
in his mind his own report on Lord Nelson as a junior officer. Might it not be
something like this : 'A somewhat emotional personality whose social conduct on shore
has frod time to time been less than perfect. Although brave and intelligent and well
343
IN THE RED
respected by his subordinates, his manner towards his superiors has at times been
offhand. His zeal and ability are however unique and he is strongly recommended
for promotion'.
But would this report gain a modern Nelson his promotion ? Hardly. The underlined parts are damning. Fortunately for Nelson he had the test and opportunity
of service in war and in this test his glory shone. But without war, would he have
come to the top? In a more recent war we have the example of Captain Walker
in the Atlantic. His tremendous success stemmed from his own leadership and drive.
Yet the peace-time promotion system had previously passed him by.
The lesson to be learned is perhaps this: that the Sea Lords should not regard
the odd red underlining as a black ball in respect of entry to the promotion club.
In fact they should suspect any report in which there is not some red underlining.
Admirers of Sir Winston Churchill admire him no less because of the criticismhowever true-of the Alanbrooke Diaries. Indeed there is hardly a public figure
in the world without some fault. The sad truth is that perfection belongs to the
next world. No man born in this world is without faults and frailties. An ideal
promotion system would recognise the reality of this human frailty and certain
officers at present passed over might be promoted in spite of their faults. Today
this rarely happens. Certainly a different mould of Flag Officer is needed to fight
at sea in war than in committee at Whitehall in peace. But does our promotion
system favour one rather than the other ? Should it ? These questions do perhaps
deserve thought.
There is certainly no intention in this paper to suggest that it is just the unorthodox among us who fare ill by our present promotion system. Lord Attlee
would almost have certainly failed to get his brass hat, yet today he is deservedly
respected as a distinguished and successful Prime Minister. Perhaps if there is a
fault in the system it is this: that too much attention is paid to defects. Perhaps
also we look at too narrow a band of qualities. Perhaps each half-year Their Lordships should inject a deliberate mistake into the promotion list just to see how
someone outside the norm would fare if given promotion.
Lastly-age of promotion. One of the saddest aspects of the Service is of the
early promoted Commander who never quite matches up to his early promise.
Nearly as sad is the overzone Lieutenant-Commander of obviously magnificent
worth. Present zones of promotion almost guarantee that both of these types will
be produced by our promotion system. And here really does exist scope for reform.
The career of an officer is quite unnecessarily telescoped. Most shipping companies
are happy to have men of 60 or even more at sea in command of their ships. Yet
our system makes a vital selection in the mid-thirties on the basis of a comparatively
small number of reports. Would not the Service have a better chance of being
sure of its promotion selection if the first hurdle were deferred to age 40 or so, when
far more reports of the matured man would be available. Would it really matter
if our Admirals (90 per cent chairborne) were five or more years older?
The pundits assert that a Staff Paper must end with conclusions and recommendations. This has neither. After all, the promotion system we now have does work.
Any change might well be for the worse. Even so we should perhaps wonder whether
it only works because twice in the last fifty years it has been toned up by the shock
and reality of war. Given fifty years of peace, will it still produce the right leaders ?
*
J.D.
Involuntarily 'Outward Bound'
LETTER written to his sister, Mrs. Hand, by Theodore George Fenn while
he was serving as Navigating Officer of H.M.S. Gnat on the Far Eastern
Station in 1868.
H.M. Wreck of Gnat
On a reef off Id. of Balabac
Sunday, 6th December, 1868
Having nothing to do and it's so hot that I cannot go out of tent, I shall commence
giving you an account of our disaster. I daresay that you were very much astonished
to get the short note I sent you when we first got here. We left Labuan on the 9th
November. I was still in my cot with fever so the Captain undertook to navigate
the ship to Manila ;we left our lieutenant, Dashwood, behind in a gunboat, so we
were an officer short, which makes a great difference in the work when there are so
few of us, so the Captain was keeping watch too. On Tuesday night I got out of
bed for dinner for the first time, and we were all congratulating ourselves on being
so comfortable without Dashwood, as we none of us liked him: during the night
it came on to rain so I had to turn out of my cot, which was on the upper deck,
and went down below to my cabin. I had not got to sleep again before I felt the
ship strike, I was on deck in a minute; when she struck the weather was thick and
rainy, but no wind and a smooth sea; this was at about 4 a.m. and we had no doubt
but that we should get afloat again, but as daylight came on the wind got up and
rollers set in and we began to bump rather heavily, and the tide was falling and soon
lefi us very nearly high and dry; all through the day the wind and sea kept increasing
and we were surrounded by heavy breakers. Everybody was kept hard at work lightening the ship, but we could not move her; to make it worse all our boats but one were
swamped and driven about two miles from the ship and were aground on the reef:
in the afternoon the Captain and three volunteers swam through the breakers and
walked on the reef to the boats. They managed to bring one back, which was stove
in in several places, the Captain was the only man who managed to get back to the
ship that night, one man was drowned and the other two were driven ashore in the
other boat; we spent a most miserable night as the ship kept on bumping heavily
and the sea washing clean over her, you can imagine how much sleep we got; next
morning we all saw that it was impossible to get the ship off as the swell had washed
her higher up on the reef and broadside on to the rollers; in one way it was very
fortunate to us as we had moderately calm water the lee side; at daylight we commenced to build a raft to carry provisions and men ashore, in case we had to abandon
the ship. I was overboard up to my chest in water all the forenoon getting the raft
made and provisioning her.
At 12.30 we abandoned the ship, the two boats taking all the men who could not
swim and also towing the raft. Everybody else was in the water shoving the raft
along, the Captain and myself among them, it was awfully hard work as the raft
kept on grounding. After six hours of this work, it getting dark and being still four
miles from the shore, the two boats lefi us and pulled ashore to explore the place
and see whether the natives were friendly or not. We managed to shove the raft
along another 4 mile, when she grounded again and we could not move it, we stayed
A
INVOLUNTARILY 'OUTWARD BOUND'
345
nearly an hour in this position, when we got two canoes and they tried to tow us,
but it was no good; it was now dark and no sign of the boats coming back, we began
to get rather nervous for their safety and thought we should spend the night up to
our knee? in water, but after a time the boats came back, so we left the raft and
got ashore in the boats and two canoes, and awfully glad I was of it as I had been
thirteen hours in the water and not quite recovered (from) the effects of the fever.
We got ashore about 8 o'clock and found the first party that landed had cleared a
little of the bush away and had lit a fire. We were all so knocked up that we lay
in our wet clothes and went off to sleep. I woke about 3 a.m. nearly frozen, but
managed to get near to the fire where I found all the other fellows very miserable.
We were awfully glad when it was daylight so we could move about a little. The
doctor was very nervous about me as he thought I should get a relapse of fever but
I think the excitement and knocking about did me a lot of good as I felt no ill effect
from the exposure.
13th November. The boats went off to the raft and ship and brought back
provisions and some clothes for us; we who remained on shore were busy clearing
away the jungle, which was close down to the shore, it kept us employed all day.
I don't think that any of us got much sleep that night as we were tormented by
every description of insect. I had just lain down, sharing a blanket with Wise, the
Asst. Paymaster, when there was an alarm of snakes. I jumped up and saw a snake
about a foot from my head, it was a whip snake and I believe very venomous, we soon
killed him but I did not care about lying on the ground any longer so I managed to
make a bed raised a little off the ground, but the mosquitoes, ants and other insects
took care not to let you sleep, and we were not sure about the Malays, did not know
whether they would not attack us during the night.
14th. Had four trips off to the ship today, bringing provisions ashore and,
wonderful event, had a wash, the first one for four days. A Spanish gunboat, the
Mandeno, came round to us to offer assistance. Kelham, sub-lieutenant, went away
in her to Ito-Ito to charter a steamer to take us on to Hong-Kong. In the evening
we got tents up, made of the ship's sails, but insects would not allow us to have much
sleep.
15th, Sunday. Had a rest, everybody being pretty nearly done up.
16th. Heavy thunder and lightning, we were down on the beach looking at the
ship when we saw her struck by lightning and immediately after she began to flare
up. During the forenoon the magazine blew up, blowing the after part of her all to
pieces, all day explosions were going on, and she continued burning for a week.
We have been here nearly a month now and awfully tired we are of it, no books
and provisions were getting low. I am left in command on the encampment as
the Captain, Asst. Paymaster and Surgeon are gone over to the Spanish settlement
to see if they could get any provisions, they started last Tuesday, yesterday I
rejoiced to see a boat come in with some grub, so we have everything now except
drink and biscuit, we have five days' more wine left, I shall be very sorry when that
is gone as the water is not very good, biscuit we have enough to last a week, the
natives are friendly, they bring us fowls and wild boar, so we have lots of fresh grub.
We have made the encampment quite a paradise to what it was when we landed.
The island swarms with monkeys, iguanas, snakes and lizards, insects we are getting
used to. When we turn in at night we tie a pocket handkerchief over our faces,
and put a pair of socks on our hands and tuck our trousers into our socks, so we
346
INVOLUNTARILY OUTWARD
BOUND
'
are pretty well protected. My especial horror are centipedes, we have regular hunts
after them and have caught some very big ones. For the first week before we were
settled and did not know the natives we used to sleep with our swords and pistols
alongside us. Our daily routine is to get up at 5.30, go for a stroll with a rifle to
see if we can pick up anything, generally have a few shots at the monkeys, come
back and wash (we saved two baths and take it in turn one after the other), breakfast
at eight, inspect men at nine, lunch at twelve, dinner at six, turn in a little after eight.
The day is the most monotonous time as it is too hot to go out and we are obliged
to keep in the shade. We keep looking out anxiously for a steamer to come and
take us away. I had a letter from the Captain telling me of his arrival at the Spanish
settlement. He had an awful hard tramp, they started on Tuesday afternoon and
had to go up a river some way, slept the night at a native village, started again next
morning at five and walked thirty miles, had to ford, he says, ever so many rivers,
all swarming with alligators, climb five ranges of hills, and now and then had a
change by having to walk across a mile or two of black stinking mud which was
sometimes up to their knees; they did not arrive at the end of their journey until
six in the evening. The Spaniards were very civil, they were walking about in
various Spanish uniforms. It was our intention, before they went, to march over,
but it is quite impossible to march men over such country.
I am now doing Commanding Officer, Paymaster and Doctor; I have four
patients. If anyone goes sick the doctor told me to give him plenty of warm water
to drink, so I have not had much trouble dispensing. I have also to do clergyman:
I read the Service this morning: as Paymaster I have to look after the provisions,
we are on half-rations now and barter with the natives.
When we get up to Hong Kong we are going to have a group taken in the clothes
we were wrecked in, we have not much variation in our dress, baltic shirts and flannel
trousers is all we have, we managed to save a few of our clothes, I saved my undress
uniform but, directly we left the ship the Malays were onboard and during the night
took everything away in their canoes, quite gutted the cabins. If we stay here much
longer we small make a pretty fine show at the Court-Martial. I shall feel quite curious
in a coat and collar, when I get any to wear. I suppose that we shall be sent home
after the Court-Martial but am very uncertain about it, if they don't we shall not
be very swell in our dress for a month or two. I had sooner remain out than go
home and be sent to a Channel-scraper and do lower deck scavenger again. I should
not relish either having to go back to a chest and hammock, if I stay out I shall
have a 60-Horse Power gunboat-I would not mind one in Japan at all.
12th December. The Captain came back from the Spanish town this morning
and shortly after, a steamer came in sight; she turned out to be the South-Western
from Ito-Ito to take us to Manila, were we not glad to see her! I was quite hoarse
from cheering, it did not take us long to 'pack up' and get away. We anchored
off the Spanish settlement that night. It was very fortunate that she came in when
she did as nearly all our provisions had gone, we had one day's salt meat left, no
biscuit, in fact nothing but rice; our allowance was one lb. a day of rice and an
ounce of sugar and tea ad lib., no wine or liquor.
13th. We are still here on account of bad weather, it blowing too hard for us
to go out. The Spanish officers sent off an invitation for all to go to breakfast with
them; as I had not been ashore here I went with the Captain, the Engineers and
both Captains of the steamer (we have two Captains, an Englishman, who is really
INVOLUNTARILY 'OUTWARD BOUND'
347
Captain, and a Spaniard-why we have two I don't know). We had breakfast at
1 p.m. and commenced with fish and rice, and had about thirteen courses, fish,
flesh and fowl, done in different ways. I thought it was never going to end. A
padre was at the head of the table, then the guests on each side of him and then
came the Spanish officers sitting all together at the bottom of the table. The dishes
as they came were placed at the head of the table and passed down, everybody
helping themselves with their own knife and fork. After breakfast I took a walk
through the settlement, which consists of a few hovels, and then went off to the
steamer, very glad to be clear of the shore. This (is) a very small craft, she is about
twenty-five years old, and used originally to run between Southampton and the
Channel Islands, in connection with the South-western Railway; she has no cabins,
we all wrap up in our blankets and caulk it out on the upper deck. We rouse out
at six, have a cup of coffee and a biscuit, breakfast at ten, dinner at six; as soon
as the weather moderates we go on to Manila and from there to Hong Kong in a
Man-of-war.
25th December, Christmas Day. We are now in two parties, ... officers and
11 men are in a Spanish steamer, the Captain, one officer and the remainder of the
ship's company are onboard a gunboat, the ...... left Balabac on the 15th December
for Ito-Ito, where we arrived on the 18th, a wretched passage, steaming against
a strong N.E. monsoon, throwing the water about all over her, it was too hot to go
down below to sleep, I used to sleep in puddles of water. The navigation used to
turn my hair grey. The skipper used to run . . . in a most cool way . . . to luck
to a great extent . . . the land, he was about thirty (miles ?) out when he reached
Panay. Ito-Ito is the chief town of Panay, we got in in the evening. The skipper took
us ashore with him to a merchant's house, everybody was very civil, giving us beds
and grub as long as we cared to stop. The town itself is a most miserable place.
. . . places, we stayed there till the 20th, having enjoyed a decent bed for the first
time since we were wrecked. We arrived at Manila on the 22nd and found the
gunboat Seven waiting to take us up to Hong Kong. As she has not accommodation
onboard her for the officers, we, that is to say, the Lieutenant, Doctor, Asst. Paymaster, 2 Engineers and myself took passage in the Marques de la Victoria. We had
very good . . . to eat and drink, a little . . . garlicky. We arrived at (Hong Kong?)
on the 26th and we are now . . . onboard the Princess Charlotte and likely to stay
some time before the Court-Martial. I have not the slightest idea what will become
of us after it is over. I was very nearly going in the Himalaya to Australia, only I
was not able to manage it quite.
Thanks for all the letters, I had a large bundle. Did you see the photo that came
in the Australian letter? I am very glad to hear that George got through the
Excellent so well. With love to everybody I remain,
Ever your affectionate brother
T. GEORGE
FENN
Per Ardua ad Certificatum
P
ROBABLY the usual reaction on the part of most officers and men affected by
Admiralty Fleet Order 674159, which gave details of the 'Registration of Births,
Deaths and Marriages (Special Provisions) Act, 1957', was to make a mental note
to do something about it in due course. The Act gave to the Royal Navy and the
Royal Marines the special privileges long enjoyed by the Army and the Royal Air
Force with regard to the registration at Somerset House of births and such family
happenings that occur when the family is abroad with the husband. But to one
family at least it was the final chapter in a protracted attempt to achieve just that
thing and this account of the circumstances which in part led to the passing of the
Act shows that the law of the land can be adjusted by Parliament on the plea of an
individual affected.
I was stationed at Simonstown when our child was born in a South African
military hospital and after the excitement had died down the time came to register
his birth. This had first to be done at the local Magistrate's Office, where I received
a small certificate recording the birth of a male child, his names and his colour or
race-'White'.
The other details that one finds on a birth certificate were only
recorded on the full birth certificate at Pretoria, copies of which were available only
for 'official purposes' and not to individuals themselves.
A copy of this full birth certificate was however obtained and sent to Somerset
House with an application that the birth be registered there, in order to avoid the
delays that would be bound to occur when application had to be made to Pretoria
every time a copy was required on the numerous occasions where one is needed in
later life-and the possible embarrassments that might arise from possessing only
the brief record ordinarily available to a South African citizen. The reply from
Somerset House was brief-'I am directed to inform you that no provisions exist
for the registration in this country of the birth of your son in South Africa'.
This seemed odd, as I was obviously not the first serving officer to have a child
born abroad when serving ashore in a foreign or commonwealth country. Indeed
I was quite sure that Army officers on the staff of the United Kingdom Services
Liaison Staff at Pretoria had no difficulty in this way and my letter to them revealed
in reply that they issued their own certificates which were then registered at
Somerset House!
The next move was a further letter to the Registrar General asking why he could
not provide the Royal Navy with the same facilities as the Army. Then came back
a long and very useful letter explaining the provisions of the Registration of Births,
Marriages and Deaths (Army) Act, 1879, and the Air Force (Application of
Enactments) No. 2 Order of 1918, and that as yet no such facilities existed for naval
personnel. I was also told that the matter had been raised in a Parliamentary
question in March, 1955, some eighteen months earlier, and that the First Lord
of the Admiralty had stated then that the question of legislation to remove this
anomaly was being considered.
By this time my son was a year old and I had been appointed to a cruiser at home.
I raised the matter with my Captain and a letter was written to ask what the present
situation was on this matter and to point out the difficulties that could quite easily
PER ARDUA AD CERTIFICATUM
349
arise. This was not forwarded by the Flag Officer in order, I was told by a member
of the secretariat, 'to save the Admiralty unnecessary paperwork'.
I discussed this with my Captain and we considered that I was then at liberty
to approach my Member of Parliament to see if he could obtain any information
for me. He very soon replied that upon enquiry he had found that the Member
for Exeter was introducing a Private Member's Bill to solve this very problemobviously the difficulty was being raised by others affected with their Members of
Parliament.
As those who read their Hansard know well, the progress of a Private Member's
Bill is fraught with many hazards and even if the Member is successful in the ballot
for leave to introduce the Bill, time must still be found for it to make its slow
progress through the First and Second Readings, the Committee Stage and the Third
Reading before being referred to the House of Lords for a similar round. I t was
then with a feeling that the gods were smiling on the quest that I read in the Hansard
for 29th March, 1957, a brief report of the Second Reading of this Private Members'
Bill, sandwiched between a debate on obscene publications and another Private
Member's Bill on racial discrimination which fell a casualty only a few moments
later that day to the four o'clock adjournment.
The Bill completed its course that summer and I therefore asked the Registrar
General what he required me to do, but he told me that the Act had still to be brought
into force by Order in Council in some months' time. A year went past and a further
letter revealed that that Act was still in a curious state of being on the statute book
but not yet in force and that as yet there was no indication when the Admiralty
intended to bring it into force. A further six months went by with no further news
so once again we wrote to our Member and in a very few days he was able to send
a copy of the reply which he had received from the Parliamentary Secretary to the
Admiralty that the Act would be brought into force within the month and that full
instructions were being issued by Admiralty Fleet Order. I t really seemed now
that success had been achieved and sure enough within a few months we had one
of those long red and white printed forms-the 'Certified Extract from the Register
of Births'.
Thus ended the four-year long effort to obtain a British birth certificate.
Probably it was 'unnecessary paperwork' as far as Queen Anne's Mansions was
concerned but it required a Private Member to take the initiative to remove this
sixty-year-old anomaly which must certainly have caused much inconvenience and
perhaps even real difficulty over the years.
'HARDNEKKIG'
King's Messenger
I
N the latter part of 1919 the Foreign Office found itself short of regular King's
Messengers and, surprising as it may seem, asked the Admiralty for the loan of
four officers to undertake the nightly journey each way between London and Paris.
The Admiralty, at the time with a considerable number of newly-fledged Lieutenants
on its hands, was delighted to accede to the request. T o say that the selected
Lieutenants were also delighted would be an understatement. After four and a
half years of almost ceaseless sea time and having just completed some rather intense
post-graduate technical courses, this unexpected change of circumstance had many
things to commend it. Their cups were indeed filled to overflowing when they discovered that the duty meant first class reserved compartments on train and boat,
a permanently secured hotel room (avec bain) in the centre of Paris, a Government
car at each end for the collection and delivery of their official bags, diplomatic passports which exempted them from Customs inspections and other intrusions whilst
travelling, a very liberal subsistence allowance which even repaid the gratuities
necessarily disbursed on passage, and a rotation programme which allowed of
thirty-four carefree hours in Paris and almost as long at the London end.
The Goat Club discussed the new departure at length, and a great deal of
unsolicited advice was given to the fortunate four. They were warned against the
intriguing and forthcoming lady with the long cigarette-holder and a broken accent
who would insinuate herself into their carriage. It was presumed that one mislaid
bag would certainly mean a court-martial and a consequent several years in the
Tower, if not worse. The more practical offered a variety of suggestions on how
best to pass the time in Paris, coupled with awful warnings about not drinking the
water, never talking to strangers and, of course, what every young man should
know about the ladies. The pessimists, doubtless consumed with envy, simply
asserted that it was all too good to be true and that there must be a catch in it
somewhere.
Yet the fortunate four did indeed find that the ensuing months came right up
to expectation. It is true, to their covert disappointment, that the beguiling female
with the international manner did not materialise, but on the other hand, when
one of them did mislay a bag he only received a verbal thrashing and an immediate
sea appointment. As King's Messengers they found their passage made very smooth
for them. They were kindly received in Paris and they soon settled down to enjoy
and make the most of the heaven-sent change of circumstance which had come
along. The catch was there, but it took a bit of time before it turned up.
Lieutenant Lacker arrived back one forenoon from Paris as usual. After lunching
at his parents' home in Kensington and having taken a nap in the afternoon, he
was just about to leave for the Club and thence in due course to the evening show
at the Palladium when he was called to the telephone and told that he was wanted
right away for a job and to 'come along forthwith to the Admiralty for orders, and
bring a bag for a coupIe of nights' absence'. Lacker was not unduly perturbed.
One of his messenger colleagues had been sent on a single occasion to Brussels
and another had even once got as far afield as Spain when the regular courier from
Paris to Madrid had gone sick. In fact, a change from the Paris run would not come
amiss.
KING'S MESSENGER
35I
The Rear-Admiral to whom he reported startled him by opening with the question
of whether he had a revolver. Lacker immediately disowned anything of the sort,
and to his surprise was thereupon provided with a blank cheque and told to 'buy
one in Pall Mall and mind you get there before the shops shut'. It then transpired
that he was required to take a letter that night to the Viceroy of Ireland. A sleeper
had been reserved on the night mail to Holyhead and a cabin earmarked for him
in the steamer. He would be met at Kingstown. If he was given a letter to bring
back, he was to take it straight to the Palace. He was to 'keep his eyes skinned,
as Ireland was a troublesome place these daysy-as if Lacker didn't know thatand, one last point, he would travel in plain clothes under the name of Mactavish!
Lacker at the time presumed this was to confuse the enemy, but probably it was
simply a name regularly used by the Admiralty in reserving train and ship accommodation.
Anyway, the revolver, or to be more accurate a Colt automatic, was duly obtained,
a meal hastily eaten, and the 8 p.m. to Holyhead caught. Those who have taken
that route to Ireland know that it means a broken night, a 2 a.m. arrival at Holyhead
and a disturbed early morning into the bargain with a 6.30 a.m. disembarkation at
Kingstown. Not that Lacker minded that much. He had become accustomed to
far worse at sea, but he did find the automatic quite a nuisance. In the films the
gunman has a handy shoulder holster. Lacker didn't, and the only place for the gun
seemed to be his right-hand trouser-pocket, where the bulge was very conspicuous
and extraordinarily uncomfortable. There was similar discomfort when in his bunk.
The weapon could only be under the pillow if it was to prove of any practical use
in an emergency. I t made its presence felt at once and persistently throughout the
night. Anyway, Lacker had little faith in his armament as a security against the rape
of the letter he carried. If he was attacked it would surely be the other fellow who
would shoot first, and that would be that.
It was a relief when Holyhead was reached and Lacker was one of the first to
slip out of the train, unencumbered as he was with more than a small handbag.
Making for the ramp to the steamer, he had only gone a few yards when he felt
a tap on the shoulder and a voice behind him murmured:'Lieutenant Lacker ?'
Conscious of his incognito, Lacker's answer was swift and, he hoped, calm with
just that inflection of surprise.
'Not me, thank youY.
'Surely it's Lieutenant Lacker!' persisted the voice.
Lacker pushed forcefully on without reply, furtively thinking of the almost
inaccessible gun in his trouser-pocket.
'Well, sir, it must be you. We have been advised.'
Lacker gave up and, turning to the bowler-hatted man at his side, said, 'Well,
actually yes', adding the somewhat cryptic observation, 'But I'm supposed to be
somebody else'.
The recipient took this in his stride.
'I'm the Detective-Inspector at Holyhead and would like to see you safely
on board'.
Lacker was at once impressed by the rank and standing of this unexpected escort,
but did this suggest that the dangers yet to be met with might really exist?
'I've checked your cabin steward', said his companion. 'Just lock yourself in,
and he'll call you half an hour before arrival. I expect you'll be met at Kingstown.
Meantime, I wouldn't mix with the other passengers if I was you. Good-night, sir'.
All rather sinister, thought Lacker, absent-mindedly laying the encumbrance on
the sill of the wash-basin, whence it immediately fell into the bowl and cracked the
enamel. The familiar smell of a ship called to him, and as a professional sailor
he would have much liked to go on deck and watch the skilled departure by one
of those experts in ship handling, the Masters of our railway steamers. But caution
prevailed and the door remained locked until the disembodied voice of the reliable
steward called him to the new day and disembarkation.
Lacker thought it best to stand back from the disembarking crowd in the hope
that he would be the more easily 'recognised', also devoutly hoping that the
recognition, if that were at all possible, would be confined to the right party. The
other passengers rapidly disappeared over the gangway, some to waiting cars and
others to the adjoining railway station. No one came near the King's Messenger.
Peering over the side he saw to his dismay an empty quayside. Nothing whatever
in the form of likely transport, and only one lone figure in some kind of Port uniform
at the bottom of the gangway. Something evidently had to be done, and so, as
nonchalantly as possible, he made his way down and, feeling rather sheepish, said
to the guardian of the exit, 'Anyone asking for me?' A cryptic enquiry which
rather naturally meant nothing to the coastguardman. Looking a bit surprised, he
shook his head, adding, 'And if you don't hurry, you'll miss the train to Dublin'.
Well, Dublin had to be after all the next stage. There was little else for it but the
train. Lacker with guile, and an eye to the unexpected expenditure, bought a third
class ticket to Westland Row-on the premise that to join a crowded carriage would
probably be less conspicuous than possible solitary state in a first class compartment.
And crowded it was; mostly, it seemed to him, with local travellers to work. He
wondered how many of them were Sinn Feiners in disguise and what would happen
if they made the right deduction from the persistent bulge in his trouser-pocket.
He buried himself in his 'Penguin' and hoped fervently for the best.
After what seemed an interminable period and was really only half an hour, the
train drew into Westland Row. Lacker followed the crowd, delivered up his ticket
and advanced hopefully into the station yard. Perhaps it was here after all that he
was to be met. Two cars swept away as he arrived, and all that remained were
four decrepit jaunting-cars. Things certainly weren't working to plan. Moreover,
he had no idea how far it was to the Viceregal Lodge and doubted that it would be
in the least wise to ask anyone. Visitors to the Lodge would be clearly marked as
Cromwellian in sympathy, and how was he to know on whose side anyone might
be? In any case, there simply wasn't anyone to ask, except the jarvey waving a
whip hopefully in his direction. So, force majeure, to him he turned and in a confidential tone said, 'Viceregal Lodge', and held his breath.
'Viceregal Lodge', repeated the jarvey in a voice which seemed to ring round the
yard. 'Get up, your honour'. Lacker waited for the burst of fire. But no; the other
drivers looked uninterested and the early morning lethargy settled down as before.
Away they went, past the LifTey and out on the road to Phoenix Park. Lacker
couldn't help noticing the unnatural silence that reigned. The streets were strangely
deserted. Just a few hurrying pedestrians, hardly any morning transport, and round
every corner a member of the Irish Constabulary standing mute with his back to a
wall, seemingly staring suspiciously at the passing passenger.
Lacker's discomfort increased. He was by this time in any case very tired after
a night of broken rest. Here he was now in splendid isolation and with a feeling
that this had certainly never been intended. Clip-clop, clip-clop, on they went.
Should he keep the pistol on his lap? If so, how would he know whether the
intruder was friend or foe ? He finally decided that the gun had become just a hostage
to fortune and, under pretence of searching his handbag for a clean handkerchief,
he took a chance and slipped the incubus into the bag with almost a sigh of relief.
Happily the jarvey noticed nothing, nor was he a communicative soul. He just
drove, doubtless as he had for many years, indifferent to the nature of the passenger
or the destination. It all suddenly became very simple, and Lacker's spirits rose.
At a quarter to eight the unmolested King's Messenger reached the main gates
of Phoenix Park. And there another difficulty reared its head. The gatekeeper
was adamant. No one could come in without the authority of the Lodge.
'Well, ring up and get itY,said the exasperated Lacker.
'Ah, but the telephone exchange girl doesn't come on till eight', said the keeper
with satisfaction.
Lacker's concern returned in full force. The entrance to Phoenix Park was no
place in which to linger. That he knew for sure. In a final despairing effort he
waved the letter with its impressive seal through the bars of the gate and announced
in firm tones (the phrase came readily to mind from his more exciting reading), 'I
am His Majesty's Messenger, and can brook no delay!'
It is doubtful whether 'brook' conveyed anything to the custodian, but the letter
itself seemed to make the desired impression. Muttering about 'the rules', he
unlocked the gates and the jarvey, who had remained quite unmoved throughout
this dramatic interlude, whipped up the nag and through they went; Lacker noting
with relief the sound of re-locking behind him.
Notwithstanding the absence of the lady at the exchange, the gatekeeper had
evidently got through to the Lodge, for as they swept round the last bend to the
imposing entrance, Lacker saw that the double doors were open and, to his dismay,
the Viceroy himself, Field-Marshal Lord French, on the top step, flanked by an
obvious Aide-de-camp and backed by what must be the butler. Viceroys don't
usually receive Lieutenants at their doorstep. 'Oh, lor! This is the end. I suppose
I'm adrift', thought Lacker, but at least he'd arrived and, trying to put the best
face he could on the situation, he clambered off the transport. Then he noticed
the smile of welcome on the face of the Tiger, the eagerness of the Aide to cast
largesse at the jarvey, and the all-embracing welcome which he felt-with just a
momentary reservation over the Aide.
His Excellency's opening gambit once and for all put his mind at rest. 'I'm afraid,
Lacker (so much finally for the nom de plume) that matters haven't gone according
to plan, but here you are and I'm glad to see you. Come in. Breakfast is ready
and you'll want a bath and perhaps a bit of a rest after what will have been a tedious
journey'. With that the distinguished host led the way, and just the two of them
sat down together to the happy ending.
It will never be known what really went wrong. Lacker himself harbours the
suspicion that someone on the Viceroy's staff slept on the 'operating' telegram. May be
the date was misread. Maybe the Admiralty itself 'slipped up', but, of course, that is
hardly acceptable. Anyway, the King's Messenger got there; and after a pleasantly
relaxed day in the very best circles, Lacker returned to London bearing the anticipated
354
NAVAL AFFAIRS
letter back. This second half of his mission was entirely without incident. An armed
escort sat in the front seat of the car to Kingstown, and a second car suitably equipped
followed astern 'to pick up the pieces if necessary', as the Aide gloatingly put it.
The lethal encumbrance reposed in the suitcase, and the King's Messenger slept
deeply and securely as is the habit with naval officers when their conscience is clear.
The 'trouble', as we know, went on for some time, and more than one naval
King's Messenger found himself diverted to Ireland. But not under quite the same
conditions. An armed escort always provided comfort and in later stages he even
travelled inside an armoured car, a process which appeared to give the long-suffering
soldiery some satisfaction-soldiers usually finding themselves being transported
by the Navy to the scene of action. But Lacker still knows that he was the pioneer,
and certainly not under the most favourable circumstances.
'ONLOOKER'
Naval Affairs
FIRST LORD EXPLAINS CURRENT POLICY
The role of the Royal Navy may well be expanded at some time in the future to provide the
British contribution to the strategic nuclear deterrent. A reference to this possible additional
responsibility was made by the First Lord of the Admiralty, the Right Honourable Lord
Carrington, K.C.M.G., M.C., in his reply to the Navy Estimates debate in the House of Lords
on Mav 25th.
he-present role of the Navy, the First Lord said, remains what it always was, as defined in the
1958
Pa~er:
-.
- - White
.
in peace tihe, to help carry out Britain's responsibilities in colonies and protected territories,
to defend British shipping, and generally to contribute by their presence to the maintenance
of peace and stability;
in limited war, to protect sea communications, to escort troops and supplies to the theatre
of operations and to give them support in action;
in global war, to make an effective contribution to the combined naval forces of the Western
Alliance.
,'These roles', the First Lord went on, 'were defined when the British contribution to the strategic
nuclear deterrent was, as it still is, predominantly the concern of the R.A.F. I t may be that, at
some future time, we shall be called upon to face a change in circumstances, but I hope I shall be
forgiven for confining myself this afternoon to things as they are, without spending your time on
The Admiralty have been asked by the
possible plans for a fleet of Polaris submarines.
Minister of Defence to examine the practical aspects of what we could do'.
--- -
-
...
WHATSHIPS:How MANY
Referring to the size of the Navy in relation to its responsibilities Lord Carrington said that
,one heard over and over again the questions: Is the present size of the Navy adequate for its
commitments 3 Is it composed of the right classes of ship, of the right size and capabilities ?
Some say that the Navy is far too small. Some say that a Navy of small ships is dangerously
inadequate; some want more cruisers. Others, like Mr. Khrushchev, consider cruisers to be
obsolete. Some say that all large ships, and particularly aircraft carriers, are so vulnerable as to be
antediluvian. Others go so far as to say that, in a nuclear age, they see no purpose and no role for a
.conventional Navy. Before attempting to answer these questions they should be put into a
realistic and accurate setting.
'It is valuable to learn from experience and from history', the First Lord continued, 'but not
to such an extent that memory clouds judgment. It would be rash to be dogmatic about our
strategic situation: but it is a different situation in two significant ways from that of the 1930's.
'First, in those pre-war days Germany faced a disunited Europe and a United States of
America which was, to a large extent, occupied with its own flairs and isolated from the problems
NAVAL AFFAIRS
355
on this side of the Atlantic. Today the Soviet Union, whatever its mood of the moment, faces a
Europe and a United States of America in a state of considerable strength and prosperity and
united by the obligations of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation. Successive Governments
have followed a policy specifically designed to profit from the lessons of those days of 1940 and
1941, when we were alone and without allies.
'It may be that we are not making as much progress as we should like in following an effective
policy of inter-dependence, but we are making some. For example, the Navy was able to purchase
the propulsion plant for our first nuclear submarine, the Dreadnought, from the United States of
America; and I have seen at first-hand the close co-operation between the N.A.T.O. navies, using
the same signal books, operating procedures and tactical doctrine. The process is not entirely
one way. Recently, for example, there has been especially valuable co-operation in which the
coastal minesweeper, H.M.S. Shoulton, has played an important part, on the problem of mine
detection. Bearing this in mind, then, it would not make sense to base our naval policy on the
premise that the sole or primary target of the Soviet Union would b,e Britain and her lifelines,
or to plan on the assumption that we had none of our present Allies.
To try to meet the Russian submarine threat on our own might be practicable but it would not
be right, for two reasons. First, it would allow the enemy to dictate our strategy and there would
be nothing left over for the rest of the Navy. Secondly, the threat to our naval forces goes far wider
than the Russian submarine forces. It is so varied and widespread-on, above and below the
sea-that we could never counter all the aspects of it in strength, except as a member of N.A.T.O.,
S.E.A.T.O., and C.E.N.T.O.
No First Lord of the Admiralty, and no Board of Admiralty, had ever said that it could not do
with more ships. However, we must be realistic. We cannot ignore the serious risks-if risks there
a r m f going short in any particular respect nor must we be blind to the consequences to our
economy of devoting too much money and resources to defence. 'As in all big issues of policy',
he went on, 'a balance has to be struck between what we should like to have, what we can afford to
have, and what we must have. Taking all these considerationsinto account, I am satisfied that the
planned size and shape of the Navy is adequate for the tasks which I have outlined.
CATASTROPHIC
CONSEQUENCES
FOR AN AGGRESSOR
'The other big difference in our situation, compared wi? that before the war, is that today we
are nowhere wholly at peace', the First Lord continued. It is the world of the cold war. The
world of 30 years ago was not without its troubles and tensions, and I should be the last to
suggest to the contrary; but the dangerous and widespread condition of Communist-inspired
unrest was something quite unknown. The German naval threat was directed primarily towards
British naval power, very much as it was in the days before 1914. But today the Soviet threat,
although it has superficial similarities, is subtly different. I t would, I think, be reasonable to say
that the Soviet Union would calculate that a major war involving the employment of their
submarines would be an incomparably greater risk than any that Hitler had to calculate, and I
am thinking not only of the menace of a nuclear exchange, but also of the massive forces of the
navies of the Western Alliance.
'We can never be sure what form agression may take, and its prevention depends on our
ability to go on showing that in all circumstances its risks would be real and its consequences
catastrophic. The deterrent is composed of both nuclear and conventional forces, and we must
play our part in maintaining the naval element-not only within the alliances, but in those parts
of the world where we have particular responsibilities and interests of our own. If we wish to
survive, we must do two things. We must collaborate fully with our Allies and be prepared to
place our navies under joint commands, trained in peace. And we must understand the nature of
the cold war-its unpredictability, its spurts of activity-which sometimes fan the embers into
dangerous fires.'
EFFICIENTAND CAPABLE
AS EVER
The Royal Navy, the First Lord said in conclusion, continues to have an essential part to play
in the defence of the counuy, and her worldwide interests. For a young man the Navy offers
opportunities for initiative, responsibility and exacting, and indeed exciting, service. For the
future officer there is a career which offers better prospects than ever before for pay, long service,
an! pension.
I am absolutely certain that, when we take account of the changes and differences which must
govern our policies in the 1960's, we are doing the right thing, and that the Royal Navy of today
and tomorrow is, and will be, as efficient and capable as the Royal Navy of the past,' he said.
UNDERWATER DETECTION REALITIES
I t would be hard to find a subject more at the mercy of wild rumour than that of anti-submarine
warfare and, in particular, submarine detection. The very fact that it lies at the heart of naval
scientific research and development, much of it necessarily secret, makes any reasoned bid for
356
NAVAL AFFAIRS
sanity more than usually difficult. The Admiralty recently had to issue an official denial of a
story, featured in one of the national dailies, that we were on the verge of a spectacular breakthrough in methods of detecting nuclear submarines at a range of a thousand or more miles.
This, if true, would have meant that the problem of determining the instant whereabouts of the
'lone ranger' type of missile-carrying submarine, was as good as solved.
Official statements about our progress in submarine detection rightly indicate a general encouraging progress, such as a new asdic set with several times greater range than anything we have
hitherto possessed; the enlisting of the helicopter equipped with dipping asdic; the concept of the
'killer' submarine with its special detection devices. But here we need a distinction. In the field
of shipping protection, where the submarine or 'wolf-pack' must close in to attack, we can expect
ever-increasing effectiveness in our counter-measures. The matter is altogether different when it
comes to hunting for a lone nuclear submarine operating anywhere in vast areas of ocean. Here we
are confronted by physical laws which present almost insuperable difficulties. To confuse success
achieved in the more limited sphere with any spectacular 'break-through' in trans-ocean detection
is to live in Cloud Cuckoo Land. The reality which must be faced is that the missile-carrying
nuclear submarine, able, submerged, to communicate with its base, is likely to remain the free
world's greatest threat.
THE WOMEN'S ROYAL NAVAL SERVICE IS 21 YEARS OLD
The Women's Royal Naval Service has come of age. Its 21st birthday was celebrated this year by
the 3,250 offjcers and ratings at present serving-successors of the first recruits of the uneasy
summer of 1939 of a force that was to gain itself a distinctive niche in Naval history for duty
ashore and afloat in World War 11. April 11th was recognised as the official date for the anniversary, but functions to mark the occasion are taking place in Naval Commands at home and
overseas during the year. I n London, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, who is Chief
Commandant of the W.R.N.S., was present at a reception held in St. James's Palace onMay 16th
and attended by several hundred serving and retired officers.
It was in April, 1939, that the late Dame Vera Laughton Mathews was appointed Director of
the re-formed W.R.N.S., which was, of course, pioneered between 1917 and 1919. She at once
set about the formidable task of laying the foundations of its future organisation. The first
Wren--official service number 1-reported the following month and a nucleus was formed of an
organisation, which was to confound those salty cynics who doubted their worth to the Royal
Navy. The comparative handful of young-and some not so young-women of 21 years ago in
the soft brimmed hats of the time, sporting non-committal H.M.S. bands, was to expand by 1944
to a peak strength of some 75,000. Officers served in over fifty branches and ratings in over
90 categories-some demanding the highest degrees of technical and professional skills.
The W.R.N.S. has served as a model for similar auxiliary bodies formed by other European
countries since the war and in 1949 it gained a permanent place in the peacetime structure of the
Royal Navy. Much smaller now than in wartime, the W.R.N.S., with its uncompromising uniform,
feminine yet unmistakably Naval in cut and style, is still unique among the women's services in
that its members, while they have their own code of regulations, are not subject to the Disciplinary
Act of the male service with which it serves.
Today, members of the W.R.N.S. serve in 25 different categories in Britain, Gibraltar, Malta
and Oslo on domestic, secretarial and technical duties. With their uniform of the latest materials
and living in attractive quarters with first class messing, they are worlds apart from the volunteers
of World War I who accepted meals of bully beef and plum duff as the normal course of events,
and wore heavy serge skirts, nine inches from the ground, and an issue of stout boots. They are
linked, however, in their fierce loyalty to the Royal Navy and its way of life.
After twenty-one years of continuous existence, the W.R.N.S. has become an integral part of
the Navy and as essential to its efficient functioning as any of its branches. It has now attained
its majority with an already established tradition of its own and has an assured future as the
youngest, but the most charming, member of the large family of the Royal Navy.
CHANGES I N RESERVE FLEET ADMINISTRATION
I t has been decided to abolish the post of Flag Officer Commanding Reserve Fleet. As from
the 29th August this year the command and administration of ships in reserve will be taken over
by the appropriate Commanders-in-Chief or Flag Officers of ports in which they are laid up.
Advice to the operational authorities on maintenance standards and practices will be given by a
small 'Reserve Ships Authority', which is expected to be firmly established by the end of the
year. A new title, 'Commodore, Reserve Ships', will be given to the officer in charge of this
authority but for the first few months a Rear Admiral will have the job.
This decision has been made possible by the run-down in the numbers of ships in reserve and
their concentration mainly in the Home Ports. The reduction in administrative overheads will
make available more officers and men for seagoing billets.
NAVAL AFFAIRS
357
LAUNCH OF THE GUIDED MISSILE DESTROYER DEVONSHZRE
Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra was to launch the Royal Navy's first guided missile
destroyer at the shipyard of Cammell Laird & Co., (Shipbuilders and Engineers) Ltd., Birkenhead, at noon on Friday, June loth, 1960.
Laid down in March, 1959, the Devonshire, a County-class destroyer, is expected to take her
place in the Fleet early in 1962 and her sister ships the Hampshire, the Kent and the London
should all have joined her by the spring of 1963.
With a length of 520 feet and a beam of 54 feet, the Devonshire will have a standard displacement
of over 5,000 tons and carry the following armament: One 'Seaslug' guided weapons system
mounted on the quarterdeck. Four radar controlled 4.5 inch guns in twin mountings forward.
Two 'Seacat' close range guided weapons systems fitted abaft the after funnel. For anti-submarine
work the ship will be fitted with the latest underwater detection equipment. She will also carry a
Westland Wessex aircraft, the first helicopter to be fitted as a complete 'hunter killer'.
An entirely new type of machinery has been fitted. It consists of two sets of geared steam
turbines for normal steaming conditions, with gas turbines to provide additional boost for high
speeds and for getting quickly under-way in harbour. The steam turbines were designed by
Associated Electrical Industries Ltd., Manchester, who are also building one set of the machinery.
Messrs. Cammell Lairds are building the other set. The gas turbines have also been designed
by A.E.I. Ltd. and are being built and supplied by them.
The Devonshire is fitted with the latest air and surface warning radars. She has an operations
room of a new design and electronic plotting facilities similar to those installed in the aircraft
carriers Victorious and Hermes. Her new style bridge will afford the Captain a clear all-round
view combined with the best possible protection. The ship will be fitted with stabilisers which,
among other uses, will facilitate the operation of the helicopter in adverse weather conditions.
The space complications created by the new armament equipment and the ncw type of
machinery have not been allowed to reduce the comfort of the ship's company, which is expected
to number about 33 officers and just over 400 ratings. This has been maintained at a very high
standard. The mess decks are fitted with bunks which have been carefully positioned so as to
provide the maximum recreation space in each mess, and allow for such fittings as card and
writing tables, games cupboards and electric sockets for personal electrical equipment. The
whole ship will be air conditioned and will have large dining halls served by a modern galley
capable of providing varied meals on a self-service system.
This will be the eighth ship to be called Devonshire; the name having been in use in the Royal
Navy almost continuously since 1692. The most recent member of the family was the 10,000-ton
cruiser of the famous London Class which was scrapped in 1955.
THE COURT OF ADMIRALTY IN ENGLAND AND THE LAWS OF OLERON
In the year 1960 are being celebrated two events which are of importance to the maritime nations
of the world. The earlier of these took place in or about 1160 with the promulgation of the
Laws of Oleron by Eleanor of Aquitaine, the wife of King Henry I1 of England; the other was
the foundation of the Court of Admiralty of England by King Edward 111, who in 1360 appointed
Sir John Beauchamp to be Admiral of all the Fleets and gave him extensive judicial powers.
The Laws of Oleron, based on the decisions of the merchant court of the little island of Oleron,
lying in the Bay of Biscay close to the west coast of France, were, from the latter half of the
twelfth century, accepted as maritime law in north-western Europe. Their prestige in this
country was especially high. They codify in plain, common-sense language the principles that
should govern the relations between the parties concerned in maritime trade, shipmasters,
mariners, owners and merchants, and they prescribe the action that may properly be taken in
various contingencies.
The appointment of Sir John Beauchamp as Admiral of the three fleets of North, South and
West in 1360 is significant because it placed for the first time the command of all the fleets in the
hands of one man who, in addition to the usual disciplinary powers of an admiral, had at the same
time the grant of maritime jurisdiction, with power to appoint deputies. From this date can be
applied the opening words of the Black Book of the Admiralty, the ancient muniment book which
also co~tainsthe text of the Laws of OleronWhen a man is made admiral, he should at once appoint under himself to be his lieutenants,
deputies and other officers, some of the most loyal, wise and discreet persons in the maritime
law and ancient customs of the seas which he can anywhere find, so that, by God's help and
their good and just govefnment, the office of Admiral may be executed to the honour and
good faith of the Realm.
In the intervening centuries, the Laws of Oleron have gradually been superseded, although
certain aspects of modern maritime law may be traced directly to them. Their glory is not in the
letter but the tradition faithfully transmitted of law and justice, order and common sense,
discipline and humanity, qualities which at times in the history of the sea have apparently been
358
NAVAL AFFAIRS
almost forgotten but never wholly extinguished. Today, seafarers and all concerned with maritime
matters have good reason to give thanks for the Laws of Oleron and for the wisdom that inspired
them.
The same centuries have seen great changes in the office of Lord High Admiral. His judicial
powers have gradually been separated from his executive naval powers. The former are now
exercised in the U.K. in Prize cases by the President of the Admiralty Division of the High
Court, in Admiralty (maritime law) cases by the President and certain other Judges, and in
criminal cases by those Judges, Commissioners, Recorders and Magistrates who administer the
criminal law of the land. The latter powers, executive or naval, are entrusted to the Lords
Commissioners for Executing the Office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom. The
history of these changes on the naval or executive side has attracted many narrators, but the
history of the Court of Admiralty has yet to be written. Enough, however, is known of it to
justify the assertion that the Oleron tradition has not been lost and that there has never been
wanting in England a court concerned with keeping the peace upon the high seas, to which recourse could be had in sure expectation of justice and effective redress.
A commemoration service of thanksgiving in St. Paul's Cathedral marked the sixth centenary
of the foundation of the Admiralty Court of England and the eighth centenary of the promulgation of the Laws of Oleron. At the service, a silver gilt casket containing a facsimile reproduction
of the Laws of Oleron was handed over by Lord Merriman, the President of the Probate, Divorce
and Admiralty Division of the High Court, as a gift to the people of the island of Oleron, near
La Rochelle. The gift was to be taken to Oleron by the frigate H.M.S. Wakeful sailing from
Portsmouth on 7th June.
CLOSING DOWN O F NORE COMMAND
The Admiralty have announced that when the Nore Command closes on March 31st, 1961,
and the Commander-in-Chief hauls down his flag, a post of Flag Officer, Medway, will be
established under the Commander-in-Chief, Portsmouth, to deal with local command problems.
The post will be filled by the Admiral Superintendent, Chatham, as an additional function.
The Admiralty have also approved that when the Nore Command ceases to function, the
Command responsibilities will be partly taken over by Commander-in-Chief, Portsmouth, and
partly by Flag Officer, Scotland. The division between these commands will be a line drawn at
the Wash.
ADMIRALTY FLOATING DOCK No. 59
Admiralty Floating Dock No. 59, which was laid down at H.M. Dockyard, Portsmouth, on
1st January, 1959, was 'launched' on March 31st, 1960, by the Lady Carrington, wife of the
First Lord of the Admiralty. A.F.D. 59 has been constructed in a dry dock and will be ready for
floating out after the launching ceremony, which will entail the flooding of the dry dock. The
machinery for this operation was set in motion by Lady Carrington.
The dock will be capable of lifting all existing destroyers and frigates, as well as submarines
of the latest type, and will be used initially in the fitting out of the nuclear submarine Dreadnought.
The Dock is 400 feet long, 77 feet wide and 65 feet high, and is an all-welded structure containing some 4,500 tons of steel. Extensive use has been made of pre-fabrication, and the completion of the structure within fifteen months represents a considerable achievement, more
particularly as the work was carried out in a dry dock which lacked many of the facilities normally
associated with a building slip. Assistance in fabrication of certain fittings was given by Chatham
and Rosyth dockyards.
It will be fully equipped to carry out routine maintenance and repairs of ships docked in it and
will provide accommodation and living facilities to the latest habitability standards, including air
conditioning and fluorescent lighting in all cabins and messes, for about two hundred men. A
push button control system will be installed for the operation of the Dock and the main pumps
for controlling the raising and lowering of the Dock will be capable of dealing with over 200 tons
of water per minute. Instruments will be fitted to record for the Dock Master's information the
strains coming on the structure during the docking operation. Four main generators and two
auxiliary generators supply 1,320 k.w. for the main pumping machinery, lighting, etc. This
power supply is sufficient for the domestic load of a vessel in the dock and power and lighting for
repairs in addition to the dock services. The Dock will be equipped with special sliding keel
blocks for the docking of submarines. A 74 ton travelling crane is situated on, and runs the full
length of, each dock wall.
ADMIRAL O F THE FLEET LORD CHATFIELD
On the 25th anniversary of his promotion to the rank of Admiral of the Fleet, Their Lordships
sent a letter of congratulation to Lord Chatfield. In it they recalled his distinguished naval
service, including appointments as Flag Captain to Admiral Beatty during the Kaiser's War;
Controller of the Navy from 1925-1928; Comrnander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet from 1929-1930;
NAVAL AFFAIRS
359
Commander-in-Chief, Mediterranean from 1930-1932, and finally First Sea Lord from 19331938, in which last appointment he bore a heavy responsibility for the Navy's readiness for
Hitler's War.
MEDITERRANEAN
EXERCISE SKY PIONEER
By arrangement with the Libyan Government, Exercise Sky Pioneer, the final exercise in the
Mediterranean work-up of H.M.S. Bulwark and No. 42 Commando, took place on the coast of
Libya to the east of Tripoli on April 29th and 30th. Ships of the Amphibious Warfare Squadron
and 40 Commando also took part in the exercise.
40 and 42 Commandos landed at 06.00 on April 29th, the former over the Homs beaches from
ships of the Amphibious Warfare Squadron, and the latter by helicopter taking them to a point
some 15 miles inland to the south of Zliten. 42 Commando's Citroen 2 C.V. vehicles were
landed by helicopter. 40 Commando had normal transport.
After a day of operations ashore, a proportion of 42 Commando made a quick move across the
desert by helicopter to assist 40 Commando. On completion of this move the exercise finished;
42 Commando re-embarked in H.M.S. Bulwark by helicopter and 40 Commando went into camp
in an exercise area made available by the Libyan authorities for a six weeks' period of desert
tram.
FAR EAST
PREPARATION FOR COlMMANDO BASE I N SINGAPORE
During the last few months the Royal Naval Air Station, Sembawang, has been the scene of
building and other general preparations for the arrival of the 42nd Royal Marine Commando and
848 Helicopter Squadron.
The airfield and buildings at Sembawang were constructed in 1937, and the station was
intended to be a Two Bomber Squadron Station for the Royal Air Force. In 1939 the station was
transferred to Admiralty control and plans were made for its conversion to a major Naval Aircraft
Repair Yard to support the China Fleet Carriers. Due to the war, these plans did not materialise
and the station was transferred to the Royal Australian Air Force. The R.A.A.F. operated from
the station until 1942, when it became occupied by the Japanese and remained so until 1945,
when under Naval command the Japanese P.0.W.s commenced to rehabilitate the station.
With the deterioration of affairs in 1949 which culminated in the Korean War, Sembawang
once again began to serve a useful purpose. The period 1950-54 was one of intense activity, while
the station had reverted to a Naval Aircraft Repair Yard, with a 'thoughput' of about 20 aircraft
per month. H.M.S. Umcorn operated between Sembawang and Korea and never once in the
five years were the operating carriers short of aircraft and air stores.
During 1956 the station complement was steadily reduced, although it continued to support
848 Naval Air Squadron, and in recent years has been largely used by the Army. The headquarters of the 99th Ghurka Brigade vacated the station in January this year and apart from
the Army Air Corps No. 11Reconnaissance Flight (Auster aircraft) and the Fleet Photographic
Unit which remains, the station will be solely for the use of the Commando and helicopters. The
fine existing buildings have been supplemented in order to house the new arrivals. All these
buildings and the airfield make up a magnificent training base, in pleasant surroundings for the
Commandos and helicopter squadron.
The station is 4 or 5 miles from the Naval Base and 10 miles from the City. The Commando
will take up residence during the first week in June and during their first six weeks it is hoped
that they will be able to settle in all their families, who will be arriving in two batches during
June and early July, before the carrier sails for exercises away from Singapore.
SOUTH ATLANTIC AND SOUTH AMERICA
A MEMORABLE CRUISE
H.M.S. Leopard arrived at Portsmouth on May 27th on completion of the foreign leg of her
first commission, having been exactly one year away from the United Kingdom and steamed
some 50,000 miles. During that time she has been based on Simonstown as a Unit of the South
Atlantic and South American Squadron and has visited twenty-two foreign and Commonwealth
ports, several of them more than once. Countries visited include the French Ivory Coast,
Nigeria, Brazil, Chile and Argentine and the British possessions of Ascension, St. Helena, the
Seychelles Islands, Mauritius and the Falkland Islands. Apart from the Flag of the Commander-
3 6 ~
NAVAL AFFAIRS
in-Chief the ship has worn the Flags of the Governors of the Seychelles and of Mauritius and also
of our Ambassador to the Argentine Republic. She has also negotiated the inland waterways of
Tierra del Fuego on her way to Ushuaia, the southernmost town in the world, and has steamed
1,144 miles up the River Amazon, the furthest any R.N. Ship has been since the Survey ship
Pelorus in 1909.
Whilst in the Magdalena Channel, on the southernmost part of her voyage, the ship had her
first sight of the Contramaestre Glacier, reflecting a multitude of colours in the bright sun.
This was the first of many beautiful glaciers, some of them 3,000 ft. high, seen at this !he.
The ship was able to bring much needed help to the little village of Codayas, lymg at the
terminal point of the long passage up the Amazon. Floods had isolated the village, whlch was
desperately short of medical supplies and food. The ship sent both, landing her Medical Officer
to give instruction on the use of drugs. He found malaria and dysentry rife among the inhabitants.
Eventually the local Mission station stated that no further assistance was required and expressed
much gratitude to all concerned.
CANADA
THE ROYAL CANADIAN NAVY IS FIFTY YEARS OLD
Two not-so-young-as-they-were cruisers bought from the Royal Navy sailed from British ports
fifty years ago to start a Navy. By the second World War that Navy was capable of expanding
phenomenally to provide the third largest fleet of the Allied powers and today is making a major
contribution to the maritime strength of N.A.T.O.
These ships, the 3,600 tons Rainbow and the four-funnelled Niobe of 11,000 tons, were the
first vessels to be commissioned for the Royal Canadian Navy, which came into being on May 4th,
1910, when Royal assent was given to the Naval Service Act. The first to commission was
actually the Rainbow at Portsmouth on August 4th, 1910, but it was the Niobe, accepted at
Devonport on September 6th, that was the first to arrive in a Canadian port and consequently
occupies a special place of affection in the hearts of the 19,926 men and women at present serving
in the Canadian Navy.
The old Niobe, built in 1899 and one of the last of her design, sailed into Halifax-it became
the headquarters of the Canadian Atlantic Command earlier the same month--on October 21st,
1910, the 105th anniversary of Trafalgar. The Rainbow berthed at Esquimalt, Pacific Command
base, on November 8th.
The first ships' companies were provided by the Royal Navy for the two cruisers, which served
as training ships for Canadian recruits attracted into the young service by posters issued to post
offices for display in the early months of 1911. Three months before the outbreak of the first
World War, the Royal Naval Canadian Volunteer Reserve was established and immediately on
the declaration of war R.C.N. ships were placed under the operational control of the Admiralty.
The hungry fingers of the post-war economy measures stretched out in Canada as in other
parts of the world and by 1922 the R.C.N. had been reduced to 366 officers and men, the Naval
college was closed and its fleet strength reduced to two destroyers and four trawler-type minesweepers. The following year, however, the Royal Canadian Naval Reserve and Royal Canadian
Naval Volunteer Reserve were formed-and these were to prove invaluable in the rapid expansion
of the service in the second World War.
After the end of the last war, there was the inevitable manpower and fleet reduction in the
R.C.N., but it has since been rebuilt to enable it to undertake not only national defence, but
also meet Canada's international commitments. The last decade, particularly, has seen a vigorous
construction programme in Canadian shipyards, the acquisition of the new aircraft carrier
Bonaventure and the growth of a strong air arm.
The Royal Canadian Navy began its 50th jubilee year with an impressive seagoing strength of
62 ships in commission, including the Bonaventure, 25 modern destroyer escorts, 18 frigates,
ten mmesweepers, two mobile repair ships and smaller craft.
ANNOUNCEMENT BY NAVAL HEADQUARTERS
While the anniversary officially fell on May 4th-the date in 1910 on which Royal Assent was
given to the Naval Service Act--special activities will be held throughout most of the year.
Nationwide ceremonies commemorating the Battle of the Atlantic were held on Sunday, May 8th.
Naval personnel and veterans in cities and towns across Canada attended special church parades
in annual tribute to those of the Navy and Merchant Service who lost their lives in the war at sea.
The Navy League of Canada held its annual 'Navy Week' observances beginning May 8th.
Among the activities planned were open house and parades by the Navy League-sponsored sea
cadet corps and Navy League cadets and Wrenettes.
At Halifax, the anniversary was marked by several events, including a sailpast of ships of the
Atlantic Fleet, a flypast of 40 naval aircraft on May 19th and a fleet regatta in Bedford Basin
NAVAL AFFAIRS
36%
followed by a performance of the Sunset Ceremony May 20th. 'Navy Day' activities on May
21st included demonstrations by ships, aircraft and submarines, and on May 23rd, the Queen's
Colour was trooped in honour of Her Majesty's birthday.
On the other side of the continent, Pacific Command anniversary events included a jubilee ball
at H.M.C.S. Naden on May 19th, special displays at the naval dockyard on May Zlst, when
ships and establishments were open to visitors, and prominent R.C.N. participation in the
annual Victoria Day parade May 23rd.
At Ottawa, a guard and massed bands from the Atlantic Command performed the Sunset
Ceremony on Parliament Hill June 30th to July 2nd inclusive. The destroyer escorts, Columbia
and Chaudiere visited Quebec City, Montreal, Kingston, Toronto, Hamilton and other Great
Lakes ports during a month-long 'anniversary cruise' starting late in May. Other ships made
'anniversary visits' to Canadian ports on the East and West coasts and in the St. Lawrence and
Great Lakes from time to time throughout the year.
Elsewhere across the country, the 21 divisions of the Royal Canadian Navy (Reserve) will be
holding special anniversary ceremonies throughout the year, and most divisions will be hosts to
the ublic at open house functions.
&e anniversary will be the theme of naval veterans' reunions being held this year. Naval
veterans of the Montreal area had reunion May 6th-8th; the Canadian Naval Association will
hold its sixth annual reunion at Cobourg, Ont., June 11th-12th; and the Naval Officers Associations of Canada will hold their annual meeting at Charlottetown, June 9th-1 lth.
VARIABLE DEPTH SONAR
A new type of sonar that holds promise of being one of the most significant break-throughs in
the science of submarine detection in recent years is to be manufactured in Canada for the Royal
Canadian Navy. Called variable depth sonar (V.D.S.), the new system will enable warships to
lower sonar gear through the ocean's thermal layers, thereby overcoming submarines' ability to
escape detection in or below these temperature strata.
Variable depth sonar is the result of more than ten years' research and development by Defence
Research Board scientists of the Naval Research Establishment, Halifax.
The need for a layer-probing sonar first became apparent when German submarines, both by
accident and design, made tactical use of thermal layers during the Second World War. The
upper levels of oceans usually contain layers of varying temperature which form a horizontally
uniform pattern many miles in extent. These layers may refract or completely resist penetration
by sonar transmissions from hull-mounted sets. The problem was of particular concern to the
R.C.N. because of the presence of such layers off Canada's coasts.
D.R.B. scientists and R.C.N. anti-submarine specialists, working on the project together,
discovered the problem could be substantially overcome by placing transducers in or below the
layers of varying temperatures.
Applied research and development followed. The result is an equipment consisting essentially
of a transducer enclosed in a streamlined body which can be towed at varying depths. The
towing cable houses a core of electrical conductors. These transmit signals to the towing ship's
sonar displays and also carry electrical power from the ship to the transducer.
The concept that led to the development of V.D.S. was initiated almost simultaneously in
Canada and the United States. Close liaison was maintained with the Royal Navy and United
States Navy, who also sought improved detection methods along similar lines. Information was
shared throughout by the associated countries, with Canada concentrating on specified possible
methods as the other countries explored different but allied techniques.
H.M.C.S. New Liskeard (coastal escort) was the first ship to be used for experimental trials.
Repeated testing and modification resulted in improvement in the equipment's performance, and
a more sophisticated version of V.D.S., built by Canadian firms, was installed in H.M.C.S.
Crusade* (destroyer escort). Intensive evaluation produced effective results and the equipment
was accepted for service in the R.C.N.
Book Reviews
HISTORY OF UNITED STATES NAVAL OPERATIONS I N WORLD
WAR 11, VOLUME XIII. T H E LIBERATION OF T H E PHILIPPINES
(Oxford University Press.
45s.)
THISpenultimate volume of Professor Morison's history covers the operations in
the Philippine group after the Battle of Leyte Gulf, to which his previous volume
was chiefly devoted, and those against Borneo which took place shortly before the
end of the war. It was only a fortnight before the landings in Leyte Gulf (20th
October, 1944) that the strategy which the Allies would employ for the next leap
towards the Japanese homeland was finally settled; for whereas Admiral E. J.
King, the Chief of Naval Operations, had shown 'adamantine devotion' to the invasion of Formosa and the seizure of a base on the China coast at Amoy, General
MacArthur and Admiral Nimitz wished to attack Luzon, the northern island of the
Philippine group, regain Manila, and then approach Japan by way of the Bonin
and Ryuku islands. The debate was long-drawn, but in October, 1944, it was
finally agreed that MacArthur should attack Luzon late in December and that
Nimitz's forces were to seize Iwo-jima in the Bonins and Okinawa in the Ryukus
early in the following year. Such was the background to the operations here described,
and it is now abundantly plain that MacArthur's strategic views were by far the
sounder. The General, however, needed Mindanao as a stepping stone to Luzon,
and it was accordingly against that island that the first of the many combined
operations which distinguished this period took place. The assault forces landed
on 15th December and met little opposition, but the 'Kamikaze' suicide planes
caused a good deal of trouble to the off-shore shipping and the naval covering
forces; and a Japanese cruiser and destroyer force from Camranh Bay which arrived
off the assault area on 24th December, taking the Americans completely by surprise,
did fortunately little damage. Professor Morison does not explain why, with a vast
naval superiority on the Allied side, there was no close covering force off the scene
of the landings. Meanwhile the main Third Fleet under Halsey had been caught
by a very savage typhoon while endeavouring to refuel. Three destroyers were lost
and serious damage was caused to many other ships-particularly the aircraft carriers.
The court of enquiry which investigated the matter placed the blame squarely on
Halsey, but the historian, in a most interesting analysis of the course of events
between 15th and 17th December considers that the finding was 'less than fair' to
the Admiral. None the less, and taking due account of his natural anxiety to fuel
his ships, it is undoubtedly the case that Halsey repeatedly altered his orders, and
finally succeeded in placing the greater part of his fleet exactly in the path of the
storm. Reflection on the events leading to that disaster, together with Admiral
Nimitz's subsequent letter to the fleet on the age-old need to take proper seamanlike
precautions in good time, does however leave one in little doubt that the C.-in-C.
Pacific did not regard the Third Fleet Commander as blameless. Indeed it is difficult
to avoid the conclusion that in strategic insight, in soundness of judgment, and in
firmness of purpose when faced by the need to choose between difficult alternatives,
HISTORY OF UNITED STATES NAVAL OPERATIONS IN WORLD WAR I1
363
Admiral Spruance, who alternated with Halsey in command of the main seagoing
Third or Fifth U.S. Fleet, will stand much the higher in the roll of great naval
commanders of World War 11; and one feels fairly confident from his earlier
descriptions of the battles of Midway, Philippine Sea and Leyte Gulf that the U.S.
~ a v ~ historian
';
is in his heart of the same opinion. Halsey's greatest work was
probably done during the period when the Solomons campaign hung in the balance
in 1942.
On 30th December, 1944, the Third Fleet went to sea again from Ulithi to
support the landings in Lingayen Gulf, Luzon, and then to sweep into the South
China Sea. The assault on Luzon took place on 9th January, 1945, and again it was
the Kamikazes that caused the chief trouble. The experiences of the Australia,
which was struck or near-missed five times in as many days, and Admiral Fraser's
narrow escape when the New Mexico received a hit on her bridge, gave a fore.caste
of what the British Pacific Fleet was to endure later during the Okinawa operations;
but it does become a little tedious to have each suicide attack described in detail, with
repeated assurances that the officers and men behaved with exemplary courage in
face of the new menace; for such conduct could surely by taken for granted.
On the same day that the amphibious forces landed on Luzon Halsey set out
on his foray into the South China Sea, and although frequently handicapped by bad
weather he sank some 130,000 tons of shipping during the next ten days. There
were, of course, hardly any enemy warships left to oppose the Americans, and the
Japanese coastal traffic between Singapore and the homeland was brought to a
virtually complete standstill. Thus far Professor Morison holds his reader's attention
with all his usual skill, and the operations described were in general important enough
to justify the space given to them; but in the final third of the book the narrative
flags, and it does seem unnecessary to describe all the fourteen major and twentyfour minor combined operations which MacArthur undertook between February
and the end of July, 1945, to clear the rest of the Philippine group and Borneo; for
they exerted little or no influence on the course of the war, and after the capture of
Manila the other Japanese garrisons could surely have safely been left alone to
lapse into ineffectiveness-as was actually done with their far more numerous troops
in New Britain.
From the British point of view the chief interest in the Borneo operations, which
opened with the assault on Tarakan on 1st May, 1945, and ended two months later
with the capture of Balikpapan, lies in the clash between MacArthur's desire to
employ the British Pacific Fleet for his purposes and the determination of Mr.
Churchill and the British Chiefs of Staff that our ships should take a share in the
closing stages of the main campaign against Japan. Admiral Nimitz, who wished
to use the B.P.F. in the Okinawa campaign and regarded it as his chief strategic
reserve, supported the latter view-though for different reasons from those which
inspired the British Government. Professor Morison is thus not wholly correct in
saying that it was 'Mr. Churchill (who) as usual got what he wanted'. Furthermore
he considers that the decision of the Quebec Conference that the B.P.F. should join
in the main campaign rather than be relegated to the secondary theatre in the south
was 'typical of political intervention in military strategy' and 'probably mistaken'.
Whether it was mistaken or not may justifiably be regarded as a matter of opinion,
though the only support for his view that the historian here cites is that the 2,000
Allied prisoners in Borneo, nearly all of whom died in captivity, might have been
364
DETERRENT OR DEFENCE
saved by an earlier assault on the island. But in fact the Japanese could-and almost
certainly would-have removed those unfortunate captives to the interior in time
to prevent their rescue no matter when we had threatened invasion. And as to
'political interference in military strategy' is not strategy always dictated by political
purposes and motives ? In general the Professor shows little appreciation of the
British determination to go on to the bitter end, until the last of the Axis powers
had been defeated, and no recollection of the fact that this little island and its
Commonwealth had been at war for twenty-seven weary and anxious months while
America was graduating from the Neutrality Act through 'Cash and Carry' to
'Lend-Lease', and finally-after she herself had been attacked-to hostilities. A
few words of acknowledgement of some debt to Britain would surely have been
gracious here, and would have softened the impression of a somewhat distasteful
arrogance left by such statements as those quoted. But perhaps we shall find such
an acknowledgement in the final volume of the American Navy's history. In tidying
up the odds and ends of the war in the South China seas, Professor Morison devotes
quite a few pages to the work of the 'U.S. Naval Group China', whose men acted
as coast watchers, rescued shot-down Allied airmen and performed a dozen other
unusual tasks; but the attack by British XE craft on the Japanese cruisers in
Singapore receives no mention. More surprising is the fact that whereas the efforts
of the far-ranging U.S. submarines in prosecuting the blockade of Japan receive due
emphasis, the work of the British and American minelaying aircraft, who ultimately
turned the blockade into a stranglehold, does not appear at all; but an analysis of that
campaign may also have been reserved for the final volume.
In sum the first part of this book, if it tells us little that is new, is as capable an
account of the combined operations in the Philippines as can be found anywhere,
but the latter part is something of a hotch-potch of minor amphibious assaults and
could with advantage have been considerably condensed. And Professor Morison's
avid partisanship does sometimes make one feel that he is less than fair to his
country's principal Ally.
'MEMOR'
DETERRENT OR DEFENCE
By Captain LIDDELL
HART
(Stevens.
30s.)
THISbook is sub-titled 'A Fresh Look at the West's Military Position' and in his
foreword the author states that his book is focussed on the problem of 'the fading
deterrent' and its replacement.
Captain Liddell Hart has, since the time when his work first began to appear after
the Kaiser's War, always impressed this reviewer as a writer on military subjects.
I t may well be true to call him, as his publisher does, 'the leading military analyst of
the twentieth century' but, true or not, a great many of his prophecies have come to
pass and, what is more, his writing is readable and comprehensive to the ordinary
citizen, in contrast, it might be said, to the prose of military analysts from Russia
and most of those from the rest of the world, whose writings are so plum dull and
repetitive that they ring no bell.
365
DETERRENT OR DEFENCE
Part I-'Retrospect', has all appeared in print before; it starts with an appreciation of the situation in 1952 from a Russian point of view which, though listing an
impressive armoury of military advantages then in Russian hands, nevertheless comes
down on the side of a postponement of the 'hot' war and a continuation of their run
of successes in 'cold' war. Then comes an appreciation of the western situation in
1954, shortly after the explosion of the first American H-bomb and their adoption
of the doctrine of 'massive retaliation', here shown to be a dangerously two-edged
weapon. Next comes a pungent but convincing description of the tragedy of Suez in
1956 and of the basic facts and fallacies of our imperial expansion and decline.
Part 11-'Prospect', describes our present unenviable situation characterised by
the alternatives 'Suicide or Surrender' and then goes on to discuss the basic problems
of Western defence, the perils of 'H-trigger altertness' and the undesirable aspects of
'tactical' atomic weapons. The author then discusses the question 'Is gas a better
alternative' and the absurdity of the continued prohibition of its use on the grounds
of humanity while we all propose to use H-bombs. In the next two chapters, 'Could
conventional forces suffice I'and 'The Ratio of Forces to Space' the author reaches
what seems to be the most im~ortantconclusion in the book since it is the onlv one
which has not been reached b y anyone else. The whole Western philosophy of
Defence is based on the conception that we have not got and could not afford conventional forces of a size to prevent Europe being overrun by Russian armies.
Liddell Hart does not accept this view and gives his idea of how non-nucl~ardefence
of Europe from conventional Russian forces could and should be achieved at an
acceptable cost.
Then comes a chapter 'Amphibious Flexibility and Forces' which might form
the basis for a 'Common Entrance exam' for all parliamentary candidates (75%
marks required to stand for Parliament and a 1st class pass of 90% before the
candidate could subsequently be rated a Minister!)
The next section discusses 'The N.A.T.O. Shield' in detail;- it ~ o i n t sout the
inadequacy of the N.A.T.O. ground forces as at present organized, our virtually
helpless position in Berlin, the vulnerability of the Baltic flank and of the Near
East, both only defensible in present circumstances by amphibious forces, and
finally the defence of Central Europe by conventional, non-atomic, forces is discussed quantitatively.
There are chapters on New Tactics and Organisation; Tanks and their future; the
development o f - ~ i ~ Action;
ht
all based on-the author's immense knowledge of
military history, and highly convincing to this reviewer. In the final section the
author discusses Passive Resistance, Neutrality, Disengagement and an International
Force. Undoubtedly a book to get hold of.
A
G.M.
OUT O F T H E SMOKE
By RAY PARKIN
(Hogarth Press.
21s.)
MEMBERS
of THE NAVAL REVIEW will not need to be reminded of the heroic last fight
of H.M.A.S. Perth and U.S.S. Houston in the Sunda Strait on 1st March, 1942,
when they engaged vastly superior Japanese forces, inflicted substantial damage
on an enemy invasion fleet, and were finally sunk after they had fired every round
in their magazines-including practice ammunition; for their story is the very stuff
of which a fighting service's tradition is made.
The author of this book was a Petty Officer who served in the Perth throughout
the sore trials of the Greece and Crete campaigns, took part in the Java Sea battle,
and was one of the last to leave her in the final fight. He gives a most moving
account of his ship's war service, and of the adventures and tribulations of the
small band of survivors who swam ashore after she was sunk, found and rigged a
derelict lifeboat, and sailed her right round to Tjilatjap on the south-east coast of
Java-only to be captured by the Japanese when they got there. But it is much
more than just another war book: for Mr. Parkin writes with penetrating insight
into the minds of his shipmates; and in his understanding of the affection with
which seamen regard their ship he reminds one very strongly of Joseph Conradas Colonel Laurens van der Post, who first met him in a Japanese prison camp,
points out in his foreword. Though the comparison with Conrad is high praise
indeed, in this reviewer's opinion it is justified.
I t is also heart-warming to read how men like Mr. Parkin regarded Admiral
Cunningham ('Andy' the Aussies called him in preference to our own more familiar
yet equally affectionate nickname of 'A.B.C.'); and how they longed to have
Cunningham over them in the Java Sea battle. For had that been so the singularly
trying and ineffective tatics pursued by the Dutch Admiral Doorman, about whom
the author is severely critical, would certainly not have been followed. Though the
final result would probably have been the same he holds that, under a more forceful
and resolute Commander, the 6-inch cruisers would certainly not have been kept
outside effective gun range during the greater part of the battle, and might well have
inflicted serious damage on the enemy. There certainly seems to be a good case
to support such arguments-as indeed serious historians have already suggested.
Second only to Admiral Cunningham in the regard of the author and his shipmates
stood their own Captain, Hector Macdonald Laws Waller, R.A.N., who had won
great distinction when in command of the ancient V and W class destroyers of the
Tenth Flotilla in the Mediterranean before taking over the Perth. Many delightful
stories of 'Hec' Waller appear in Mr. Parkin's narrative; but I particularly liked the
one about the rating whose ship was lying alongside the flotilla leader Stuart in Suda
Bay to refuel during a brief interval in the battle of Crete. Seeing a man in nondescript clothing on the Stuart's bridge he hailed him and asked for a light. A matchbox having been thrown across and duly returned, the next question was 'What's
the skipper like ? 'Not bad', replied the character from the Stuart, adding with a
grin, 'But some don't think much of him'. He then turned to go below, picking
up an ancient monkey jacket on the way; and his questioner suddenly saw that it
THE SKIPPER AND THE EAGLE
367
bore four rings of tarnished gold lace. 'Andrew Cunningham and Hector Waller
were cast in the same mould', writes Mr. Parkin. 'Men would follow them, suffer,
and be glad about it. These were both men made by Fate for those ever-recurring
Saint Crispin's Days in human affairs'.
But the highlight of the book undoubtedly is the long and very trying boat journey
by Mr. Parkin and his nine companions; for here his writing is at its best, and the
reader shares in the tremendous strain and tension which they endured. The selfdiscipline and leadership shown by the officers and men who kept up the litile band's
resolution and morale stemmed, in the author's view, from their naval training; but
he himself was undoubtedly able to draw on deep reserves of spiritual strength.
Though he writes with the most attractive modesty, disguising his own part by
telling the tale in the third person and hiding his identity under the name of 'John',
there can be no doubt that the book is in fact autobiography. And it must surely
have been mainly Mr. Parkin's strength of character which not only brought the
lifeboat safely into harbour but, after the attempt at escape had failed, succeeded in
surmounting all the horrors of three and a half years in Japanese prison camps,
part of which was spent toiling on the dreaded Burma-Siam railway. Colonel van
der Post's share in maintaining the morale of the unfortunate prisoners of the
Japanese has gradually come to light from other sources, and it is easy to guess
that he found in Mr. Parkin a man after his own heart.
Seventeen years have passed since the Perth was sunk and her survivors struggled
through choking oil fuel to reach a coast where the natives quickly showed a wanton
readiness to rob and murder them; but Mr. Parkin does not look back on any of
his sufferings in anger or bitterness. Rather does he remember with unquenchable
pride the ship he fought in and the men who manned her. His book deserves to take
a place alongside the greatest tales of the sea.
S. W. ROSKILL
T H E SKIPPER AND T H E EAGLE
MCGOWAN,
U.S.C.G., Ret.
By Captain GORDON
$5.75)
(D. Van Nostrand Company Inc.
With a Foreword by ALANVILLIERS
THISis a lively account of how the ex-German sail-training barque Horst Wessel
(renamed Eagle) was fitted out in Bremerhaven in the Spring of 1946 and was
successfully navigated under sail and power by a mixed crew of young Americans,
Coast-guard men and Germans to New York.
The United States Coast-guard Service is about as different from its counterpart
in this country as it is possible to conceive. As Alan Villiers writes in his foreword,
representatives of the latter are 'apt to be some ancient naval pensioner with a
telescope under his arm', while the former is a complete and private navy, owning
some fifty ships and a fleet of aircraft. Its responsibilities are huge, ranging from
weather-ships through Hydrography to Naval Architecture and Marine Law. In
fact the U.S.C.G. combines the functions of Trinity House, Board of Trade,
National Lifeboat Institution, etc.
368
THE SKIPPER AND THE EAGLE
The esprit de corps of the Coast-guard Service is very high: its members are
confident of being able to solve any nautical problem that comes their way. In this
country, if a boy gets his head stuck in the railings or some lunatic cat gets out on a
limb we send for the fire brigade: in America, it seems all awkward jobs that the
U.S.N. doesn't fancy automatically devolve on the Coast-guards.
So it was that when the residue of the German Navy was shared out among the
victorious Allies and the Hmst Wessel was allocated to the U.S., the task of taking
her to America was given to Captain McGowan, together with some fifty officers
and ratings and a lot of unfulfilled promises. This three-masted barque of 1,700
tons-a sail area of 22,000 square feet and a small auxiliary diesel-was designed
and built to give sail-training to the maximum number of young sailors at a time;
consequently practically every operation aboard had to be carried out by manpower, of which there was, when in commission in German hands, an ample supply
(over 350 souls). McGowan, therefore, had a real job on his hands and not only
in the matter of crew shortage. The sails were worn out and needed renewing.
The running rigging was rotten; the Germans at Bremerhaven had cached all stores
when defeat was seen to be inevitable; there was naturally enough not an oversupply of goodwill; and, worst of all, Captain McGowan admits that his knowledge
of sailing square-rigged ships was far from complete.
How he competed with each of these problems, obtaining new sails, stores of all
sorts, a completely new engine, and practically shanghaied the German maintenance
party to make up his complement to about a third of its proper quota, is a fascinating
story, well told with plenty of humour. He appears as a man of a cautious disposition,
with no false pride and a positive obsession to preserve the lives of his inexperienced
crew. By using a tug to tow the Eagle as far as Falrnouth while he steadily trained
his men, he made sure of a good departure. Then he made for Madeira and the
Trade Winds and enjoyed a perfect voyage as far as Bermuda.
I t was on leaving this island for the last leg to New York that he got into trouble
and found himself running before a gale of storm, or hurricane force. It seems odd
that a man of such seamanlike qualities should have continued to allow his vessel
to run at the breath-taking speed of sixteen knots with eight men struggling with
the hand-steering and the ship in danger of broaching-to at every moment, but
this he did, losing 20,000 dollars-worth of canvas in the process.
When at last he was prompted to turn and heave-to he managed this most dangerous
operation with great good sense and complete success.
This is a good book with some fine photographic illustrations. I t would have
been more worthwhile reading if the author had not been at such pains to write it
'down' to the complete landlubber. Perhaps he could be persuaded to give more
technical information in a sequel designed to be read by professional or amateur
seamen so that this voyage of his, which was well worth putting on record may be
put in cold storage for the day when men may once again be obliged to harness the
wind.
G.H-J.
Note: Eagle entered Portsmouth Harbour two days ago with a crew of 350 young
seamen.-G.H. J., 6th July, 1960.
T H E BRETHREN OF T H E COAST
THE BRITISH AND FRENCH BUCCANEERS I N THE SOUTH SEAS
By P. K. KEMP and CHRISTOPHER
LLOYD
(Heinemann.
2 1s.)
IF truth is stranger than fiction it is not always such good entertainment.
In this age of 'agonising re-appraisal' it was but natural that somebody would
exhume the legendary histories of the buccaneers and subject them to a more
clinical examination in the light of factual evidence rather than in an aura of
romance.
Half a century has elapsed since your reviewer discovered the existence of these
roistering ragamuffins, first in the pages of 'Chums' and later in the classics from
which these stories were obviously derived, but the passage of time has not dimmed
the impression that they made on him of really bad brave men who would slit your
throat, keel-haul you, or send you off the plank in between two nips from a rumbottle. Now it appears that many of the monstrous qualities of the arch-buccaneers
were added to by Spanish historians who had as much reason to hate them as had
English nursemaids in a different world at the beginning of the last century, who
firmly believed (and passed the belief on to their charges) that Bonaparte ate babies
for breakfast. Though, however, it has been definitely proved that the Little
Corporal had normal appetites, the most painstaking removal of legendary qualities
of the buccaneers has not altogether succeeded in showing them as a dim collection
of wide-boys, obliged to earn their livings dishonestly abroad because they had
already done so at- home.
What does emerge from this history book are the extraordinary powers of
endurance, tremendous bravery, skilled navigation and the muddle-headed desires
for riches which these tough babies displayed. And the moral, if any, to be drawn
is that there would not have been many buccaneers if the Home Governments of
those days had not so desired it. The biography of Sir Henry Morgan, for example,
is a perfect example of the attitude of Authority to those who were bleeding the
~ ~ a n i a r at
d stheir-own expense. Perhaps the present-day Communist governments
have learned a few wrinkles on 'Volunteers', such as have appeared in the Eastern
hemisphere from the past? Though they have not gone so far as to bestow the
equivalent of knighthoods on their desperados.
P. K. Kemp is no stranger to readers of modern naval history, nor is Professor
Christopher Lloyd. Two such names on the title page of a book are a sufficient
guarantee of its quality in the historical sense. In the literary one, however, the
task of preserving readability when commenting on past records has occasionally
proved beyond their powers and this is not an easy book to digest.
One thing which has struck this reviewer over and over again is that the true
historian cannot imagine how woefully ignorant of simple historical facts is the great
majority of the reading public. For example, a simple reference to the 'War of
Jenkins' Ear' is not enough. Could not our modern writers revert to the age-old
practice of sub-titling, with dates, at the head of each chapter, so that the reader
may be 'put in the picture' without having to reach for his Encyclopaedia Britannica ?
SEA TALES FROM BLACKWOOD
(Blackwood. 18s.)
'The sailor sits by the harbour when he can,
He was obviously meant for a literary man . . .'
So runs the song, and it might be re-echoed by some of the writers who have
contributed to this bunch of sea stories-though modesty would forbid them
complete certainty.
The stories have all appeared during the last twenty years within the pages of that
dour-looking sandy coloured magazine, with its thistle-bordered portrait of,
presumably, the first Mr. Blackwood, which is to be found in almost every Mess,
Wardroom and Club from Piccadilly to Penang.
How it keeps going one sometimes wonders in this world of shrinking outposts,
irrigated deserts and nothing much left to be brave about, but the world still seems
to be 'full of a number of things'. Like relations, and the Albert Memorial, 'Maga'
is always with us, and none the worse for that.
The House of Blackwood has now cut a dash and presented us with this bluebound collection of eighteen sea-stories, all with one exception written by sailors,
and one cannot help wondering how they all manage to write so well. But they
write about what they know, and their experiences are usually first hand. Though
the style is sometimes a little pedestrian, and occasionally confusing, they always
have a real story to tell. So many writers do not.
Variety was intended to spice these pages and there are stories of peace and war,
calm and storm, tragedy and humour. There is a good deal of honest British understatement, and upper lips retain their stiffness, yet now and then a gleam of poetry,
and something deeply felt, breaks through. This is particularly noticeable in the
last piece, The Laurel and the Snow, which may have been written by the one
woman who, Admiral Sir William James in his forewood tells us, is among the
contributors.
'A Pentland Crossing' is a splendid piece of description, reminiscent in its moments
of terror, of Poe's 'Maelstrom'. 'Peregrine', the pseudonym of a well-known yachtsman, recalls skippering the little Samuel Pepys on the trans-Atlantic race of 1952.
There are stories of warships, and some off-beat war events; a Maugham-like
episode along the burning coast of India; how to sail a 21-ft. boat from Singapore
across the Indian Ocean to Port Elizabeth, and a tense account of a submarine
dive that lasted for forty-eight hours-all among the depth charges-at a time
when twenty-four hours was considered a very long dive indeed.
Many of the stories will bring back nostalgic memories to their readers, and there
is something for everybody who is fascinated by the sea and its love-hate relationship
with those who sail on it.
P.H.
WE SAW T H E SEA
By JOHNWINTON
(Michael Joseph.
12s. 6d.)
JOHNWinton, in this his second novel, has once again proved the truth of the axiom
that literary sequels should be avoided.
In 'We joined the Navy' he described with a pungent pen the experiences of the
Special Entry to Dartmouth and in the Training Cruiser, in terms which produced
a series of involuntary guffaws on the part of this reader and many others. It was,
perhaps, too much to expect a similar explosive force in his second barrel; nevertheless, there is still much wit and entertainment in his treatment of the day-to-day
happenings in his navy. What is lacking is a plot as a substitute for the real anxiety
that one felt about the fate of young men in the Benbow Term; for even in the
lunatic fringe of modern Service conditions there must be a thread of purpose
running through it all-a sort of Rogues Yarn. Not a bad title for his third, unless
he is committed already to the next stanza, which, if I recollect, goes, 'We saw the
Atlantic and the Pacific and the Pacific wasn't terrz3c and the Atlantic is'nt what
it's cracked up to be'.
'HOOKPIN'
Correspondence
ADVANCED LEADERSHIP COURSE
SIR,-I have read 'Full-Due's' article, 'Advanced Leadership Course', with great
interest, but it is unfortunate that his knowledge of the functions and structure of
the Officers' Divisional Course is so inaccurate; may I be permitted to correct
the errors.
The Officers' Divisional Course runs three types of courses, viz. :(a) The 'Standard' Course lasting two weeks, mainly for Supplementary List
Fleet Air Arm Officers who have completed their basic naval and flying
training, for ex-Upper Yardmen, and for General List Electrical Officers
(who are not taught Divisional matters at Dartmouth).
(b) The 'New Entry' Course lasting four weeks, for Newly Entered Medical,
Dental, Instructor and Constructor Officers, Chaplains and Supplementary
List Electrical Oficers.
(c) The 'Refresher' Course lasting three days, primarily designed for Commanding Officers and Executive Oficers designate, but also attended by
others needing a brush-up on the subject.
The 'Standard' Course is best described as covering the 'nuts and bolts' of
Divisional work and is intended for officers with a certain basic naval knowledge;
it covers Discipline, Welfare, Advancement, Legal Aid, Religion, Sport and
Recreation and Drafting to quote but some of the subjects. Formal leadership
instruction is included as far as is possible in a short course, accentuating the fact
that leadership is the 'key' to Divisional work as well as to discipline.
The 'New Entry' Course is an 'introduction to the Navy' and is designed to
convert a 'trained civilian' into a naval officer. The course includes general lectures
on all aspects of naval life, visits to ships (including a day at sea) and other naval
establishments in the area, and a two-day visit to H.M.S. Royal Arthur; instruction
in purely Divisional work is limited. However, considerable emphasis is placed
on leadership instruction, both theoretical and practical, and on physical fitness.
The theory is in the form of set lectures, and spare-time study in syndicate, of great
leaders of the past and present, with subsequent course discussion; the practical
is in the form of expedition training (when possible with parties of ratings under
their charge), the Royal Arthur assault course, sail training, dog watch games and
parade training, all of which help to develop character, initiative, power of command
and physical fitness.
The four-week 'New Entry' Course has only recently celebrated its first birthday,
and is still being developed in the light of experience.
The 'Refresher' Course does precisely what its name implies; although primarily
tailored to fit the needs of officers going in command or as Executive Officers, most
of it is of equal value to others going to ships, although certain items in the syllabus
are not attended by them. The course starts with a brief resum6 of the salient
principles of leadership as taught to the other two courses; but there is no practical
instruction or physical activity!
CORRESPONDENCE
373
From this it will be seen that no course 'lasts a week'; only one, the 'Refresher'
Course, is likely to be a 'hotch-potch of all ranks up to and including Captain';
and all three courses cover, to a varying degree, pay, allowances, drafting and other
general service conditions, all of which are important facets of a Divisional Officer's
knowledge.
Finally, the New Entry officers only visit Royal Arthur for two days, during which
they have one practice run at the assault course before doing it, and their times do
not compare unfavourably with the Petty Officers and on the only occasion when
a 'New Entry' Course tackled the Royal Arthur 'Black Mountains' course, they
compared more than favourably. It is unfortunate that the distance from Portsmouth
to the Black Mountains precludes continuing this exercise; although a similar
exercise is now held in the New Forest, a direct comparison between New Entry
Officers and Petty Officers is not possible from this.
To conclude, may I say that I thoroughly agree with the concept of 'Full-Due's'
article. The Divisional Course endeavours, and succeeds within the time available
for the varied syllabi, to foster thought on and give practical experience in leadership, but none of the three types of course is, or can be, purely a 'Leadership
Course'; perhaps the new 'Lieutenants Course' at Greenwich will help to fill the
gap, though I am ignorant of the proposed syllabus.
Yours truly,
'SELIM'
FITNESS FOR PROMOTION
SIR,-Admiral Dewar's recent series of articles in THE NAVAL REVIEW on the
Battle of Jutland, and the discussion they have evoked, engender an uncomfortable
suspicion that, at least during the generation that preceded World War I, there
may have been something seriously amiss with the criteria on which were determined
an officer's fitness for advancement.
During that war I was, of course, only a very junior officer indeed. But thanks
to family connections, in earlier years I met many officers who were to play quite
important parts when it came. I listened to them discussing Service matters 'off the
record', and gained some insight into the way in which they regarded, and were
regarded by, their contemporaries. At the time, maybe, the impact made on my
youthful mind was not great. But later, as my own knowledge and experience
increased, I found myself more and more wondering whether it was not the case
that what ensured an officer's promotion was primarily force of character allied to
general capability (admittedly both very important), with intellectual capacity
coming second, and maybe a poor second at that. Indeed, it seemed as if at times
forcefulness of personality, and the self-assurance that goes with it, could pass
muster for cleverness. With the unhappy outcome that positions of high responsibility
were at times filled by men who initiated, and by strength of character carried
through, policies and measures which, had they possessed intellect in comparable
measure to their other qualities, they would have seen to be misconceived or basically
unsound.
374
CORRESPONDENCE
I t is related of the late Colonel-General Baron von Hammerstein-Equord, who
for a period between the two wars was head of the German ~eichswehr,that he
once declared that he divided his officers into four categories: the clever, the stupid,
the industrious, and the lazy. The clever and lazy, he continued, were groomed
for high command, since they had the right temperament for it. The clever and
industrious were assigned to the staff. Use could be found for the stupid and lazy.
But the stupid and industrious must be got rid of without delay, since they were
a menace !
What there seems to me immediately relevant is the implicit recognition that
the clever-the intellectual, if you like-officer, even though he is deficient in some
of the qualities needed in the higher commander, has a valuable contribution to
make, and that full use should be made of his special aptitudes. It has always appeared
to me that, under the system that obtained in our Navy at least while I was on the
Active List, much ability and valuable experience was virtually lost to the Service
because officers who had the misfortune to be passed over for promotion were
immediately 'shelved'. Thereafter-except maybe for a fortunate, but small, minority
-they were relegated to 'dead end' appbintments which gave no scope whatsoever
for the often considerable abilities that they possessed.
All of us, I imagine, have at one time or another experienced the unhappy
consequences that can stem from stupidity allied to industry. What I am also
convinced can be highly inimical to the Service, even though the danger may be
less readily apparent, is forceful self-assurance, even when coupled with general
competence, where the restraining effect of a matching intelligence is lacking.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
W. M. PHIPPSHORNBY,
Commander.
H.M. SHIPS ON LAKE ERIE
SIR,-As one who was privileged to participate in the memorable visit of the
N.A.T.O. fleet to Toronto last year, I was delighted to see the account entitled
'Our Ambassadors Extraordinary in the American Middle West' (p. 99, THE NAVAL
REVIEW, January, 1960).
I t may be of interest to your readers that the statement 'The visit was the first
paid to Lake Erie by ships of the Royal Navy since the conclusion of the War of
1812 . . .' is not quite in accordance with the facts.
H.M. Ships Tecumseth and Newash, built on the banks of the Niagara River during
the winter of 1814-15, sailed after the conclusion of the War of 1812 to be stationed
at their new base at Penetanguishene, Upper Canada.
In the mid-nineteenth century two other ships of the Royal Navy protected the
shores of the colony on Lake Erie; these were H.M. Paddle Sloops Minos and
Mohawk.
At a much later date ten ships of the Royal Navy steamed the 240-mile length
of Lake Erie; these were H.M. Ships Lysander, Mariner, Marmion, Orcadia, Ossory,
Pluto, Polaris, Pyrrhus, RonzoIa and Rosamund. These ships-all of which were
CORRESPONDENCE
375
commissioned in the Royal Navy between November, 1944, and November, 1945,
were of the Algerine class. The first eight were built at Port Arthur at the head
of Lake Superior and the last two at Collingwood on Lake Huron.
Yours truly,
E. C. RUSSELL,
Lieut.-Cdr., R.C.N.
THE GOLDEN MOMENT
SIR,-Correspondence in recent numbers of THE NAVAL REVIEW referring to the
'Golden Moment' brought to mind two incidents in my humble career when I
decided that the Moment had arrived and I disobeyed my orders. The results were
not identical.
First in 1916 at the war-time Battle Squadron pulling regatta in Scapa Flow,
when I was in command of a picket boat. The Officer of the Watch ordered me to
pick up certain competing boats in a certain order and tow them to the starting point.
For some reason which I cannot now remember I decided that it was better to pick
up the boats in a different order. Thereby time and trouble would be saved and
greater efficiency achieved. I acted accordingly. Unfortunately the Officer of the
Watch saw and noted what was happening. He disapproved. I suffered.
The second was in 1936 during the Italian-Abyssinian war when I was in
command of H.M.S. Penzance in the Red Sea. One forenoon while at anchor off
Lokeiya on the Arabian coast, a signal was intercepted from a merchant ship reporting
that the Italian lighthouse on Zubayir Island, known as the Centre Peak Light,
was flying the international code signal for 'Aircraft in distress'. In the ship's
capacity as one of Policeman of the Red Sea this was evidently a situation which
required investigation. I therefore raised steam and proceeded accordingly, informing
the Commander-in-Chief at Aden of my intention by signal.
During the afternoon a reply was received from the Commander-in-Chief
approving my action but reminding me of the strict orders then in force from the
Foreign Office which forbade landing by any naval personnel on any Italian territory
on any account.
The ship arrived an hour before sunset. The island was perhaps half a mile in
circumference. It contained no signs of habitation of any sort except the tall, gaunt
and bare lighthouse which stood at one end. Sure enough from the upper balcony
was displayed the two-flag signal 'Aircraft in distress'. In reply to a blast from the
ship's siren the lighthouse keeper emerged from the door and waved violently at us.
No other land was in sight. No other ship was on the horizon. It seemed silly
to steam away without making some effort to solve the riddle. We tried shouting
at the gesticulating native, still standing by the lighthouse door, but without any
satisfactory result. I remember that a possible explanation which occurred to us
was that an aircraft had fallen into the sea nearby and that there were some injured
survivors requiring medical assistance in the lighthouse. I t would be inhuman and
absurd to steam away and do nothing.
So I disobeyed the orders of the Foreign Office and the First Lieutenant was
sent ashore in the dinghy. He returned quickly with the explanation. It appeared
376
CORRESPONDENCE
that the revolving mechanism of the light had broken down six days previously
and the native lighthouse keeper, wishing to inform the Italian authorities at Massawa,
had hoisted two of the most colourful flags he could find in the locker without
reference to their meaning in the international code, in order to attract the attention
of a passing ship.
The man was most grateful that we had called, as his supply ship was not due
for another month. I immediately sent a signal through Aden to Massawa, and
sailed away.
Subsequently I reported the whole incident in writing to the Commander-inChief and in due course I was pleased to receive a reply from him both forgiving
and applauding me for disobeying orders. So all was well.
Yours truly,
E.H.L.
S1~,-With reference to Mr. Oliver Warner's letter, the genesis of the short
essay 'The Golden Moment' was that, when reading about the famous Admirals
of the sailing era, I noted that in nearly every case they had as younger men, in
command of a ship, seen and seized an opportunity to come up with the enemy,
an opportunity which was seen but not seized by their brother Captains.
Captain Anson was forty-three when he sailed with his small fleet of five ships
for his round the world voyage and to harass the Spaniards in the Pacific. He
encountered every adversity-storms, scurvy, shortage of food and water-and by
the time he reached Juan Fernandez with three ships, only 200 of the Centurion's
crew of 500 were still alive, the T v a d had buried 34 out of a company of 81, and
the Gloucester, with only a third of her crew alive, took a month to reach the
anchorage after she was first sighted. Ninety-nine men out of a hundred could
have made good defects and sailed home. Anson, undaunted, decided to go on.
That was Anson's greatest moment. Many months later the little fleet proudly
sailed up Channel, its mission accomplished.
At the Battle of Toulon, 1744, Admiral Matthews, disregarding the hard and
fast rules which then governed tactics, decided to run down on the Spanish flagship. Only one ship went with him. Captain Hawke, despising any idea of taking
advantage of the Admiral's confused orders or quoting the Fighting Instructions
as a reason for hanging back, sailed down on the Allied fleet, with the result that
one ship was beaten out of line and another captured. None of the other Captains
made any attempt to close and attack.
At the action between Anson and de la Jonquiere in 1747, Anson ordered a chase
and Captain Boscawen engaged three ships one after the other and forced them to
surrender. Walpole wrote 'Anson carried off the glory and the victory, though
Boscawen had done the service'.
After Hawke had defeated de L'Etendutre in 1747 two French ships set full sail
to escape. The Admiral made no signal, but Captains Rodney and Saunders crowded
on sail and brought the retreating ships to action.
At the Battle of the Saints, Captain Saumarez, not waiting for a signal, quitted
the line to attack the French flagship. Rodney afterwards declared that Saumarez
distinguished himself above all others on that famous day.
In 1782, Captain John Jervis's ship, the Foudroyant, was one of twelve ships
under Admiral Barrington who had been ordered to intercept a French convoy.
CORRESPONDENCE
377
When Barrington ordered a general chase Jervis's ship, a fast sailer, was soon far
from support and facing six French ships. He pressed on through the night and
at midnight he was up with the largest French ship, the Pegase, which surrendered
after fifty minutes cannonade. For this splendid example of successful intrepidity,
Jervis was knighted, a honour that only one other Captain received in the sailing
era-Nelson, for his conduct at the Battle of St. Vincent.
It was at another battle off Toulon in 1794 that Captain Nelson saw and seized
his opportunity. It was his first sea battle and when-~dmiralHotham ordered a
chase he crowded on sail and was soon far from support as the other thirteen Captains
held back. He attacked the Ca Ira, a far more powerful ship than the Agamemnon,
and by skilful manoeuvring had reduced her to a wreck, when two other powerful
~ r e n c hships began to close on him and it was time to retreat.
His handling of his ship evoked the admiration of the whole fleet.
So to all these famous men came a 'Golden Moment' when they were Captains.
Mr. Warner suggests that there is an element of disobedience in seizing a 'Golden
Moment' and I think that is true. In none of the cases I have quoted did those
Captains actually disobey orders, but they did take independent action at a period
when tactics were governed by strict rules and independent action was frowned on,
and if they had faded, if it had been their ships that had been forced to surrender,
there is little doubt that they probably would have ended their careers as Captains.
Anson should, of course, have abandoned his voyage when his ships and men
were quite unfit to continue; Hawke should have remained in his place in the line;
Rodney and Saunders should have waited for a signal; Jervis and Nelson should
have shortened sail when they found they were unsupported; of course they should,
but they didn't.
By breaking the rules at the Battle of St. Vincent Nelson enabled his Admiral
to win a victory, but some of the senior Captains thought that Jervis should
reprimand Nelson and were not at all pleased when he was knighted for his splendid
initiative !
Yours faithfully,
T H E BATTLE OF JUTLAND
The Editor suggests that, with the publication of the following eight letters,
this subject can be regarded as having been fully exploredfor the time being.
SIR,-I suppose that every student of maritime war, and every author who aspires
to write on that subject, will turn sooner or later to the Battle of Jutland-if only
because his natural curiosity will drive him to seek an answer to the question of
how it came to pass that a British fleet which was substantially superior in every
single department did not gain a decisive victory. In my own case I began collecting
papers and personal recollections about the battle several years ago, in the hope
that I might be able some day to write a book which would provide the long-sought
answer to that question; but I soon decided that, although I had amassed a good
deal of very cogent material, the day had not yet come when the full story, at least
378
CORRESPONDENCE
as I saw it, could be published. None the less my research is continuing, and I
still hope some day to write the book.
It is therefore natural that I should have read Admiral Dewar's articles with great
interest, with admiration for the manner with which he has marshalled the facts
as known to him, but with some regret for the asperity-even bitterness-with which
he has expressed his views on matters which can be interpreted in more than one
way. I would say straight off that, when he is dealing with ascertainable fact, I
believe his account to be impeccable; but I none the less think that there remains
a residue of knowledge about the battle of which he may not be fully informed.
T o give only one example, Jellicoe's actions during the night were undoubtedly
affected by the lack of confidence he felt in the intelligence signalled by the
Admiralty; and that lack of confidence stemmed chiefly from the totally false information given to him the previous day when (as Admiral Dewar tells) the
Admiralty signalled that the High Seas Fleet was still in the Jade river shortly
before Beatty encountered its full strength well up the coast of Denmark. It is
beyond doubt that Room OB.40, which was deciphering a great many of the
German signals, never knew that such a message had been sent to the C.-in-C.,
let alone approved its contents; and the question of how it came to be sent surely
demands the most careful probing. One cannot, after all, fairly blame a senior
officer for rejecting a piece of intelligence when, only a few hours earlier, the unreliability of its source had been demonstrated with shattering clarity. In my opinion
Admiral Dewar does not take sufficient account of the consequences of the lack of
liaison, or the breakdown of liaison between Room OB.40 and the Operations
Division who initiated the misleading signal.
Secondly, criticism of Jellicoe's deployment on the port wing column is based
only on opinion; but what is beyond doubt is that by his decision he placed his
fleet right across Scheer's course, forcing him to beat a very hasty retreat. I would
question whether any commander can do more in the opening stages of a battle
than win a position of such commanding advantage. Over the failure to reap the
benefits of that initial advantage I am entirely with Admiral Dewar; and that, of
course, leads one straight into consideration of the tactical principles on which the
Grand Fleet had been trained-a responsibility which must be shared between the
C.-in-C. and the Admiralty. Now the rigidity of the relevant Fighting Instructions,
which Admiral Dewar attacks with some venom, was and is no new phenomenon
in British history-or indeed in that of other countries. In fact it had prevailed
ever since Rooke's instructions were made 'permanent' in the mid-eighteenth
century, with a few short breaks when the genius of men like Hawke and Nelson
was available; and the rapid material changes of the nineteenth century had clamped
that tactical rigidity on the fleet more firmly than ever before. I t is true enough
that a genius like Nelson might-nay probably would-have broken all such rules,
and that Jellicoe was not gifted with such genius. But the system was of such long
standing that it would certainly have been no easy task for any officer to act in
flagrant contradiction of such widely accepted practices. Beatty's remark to his
Flag Captain, 'There seems to be something wrong with our bloody ships today',
is widely remembered; but much less well known is his follow-up comment that
'There is something wrong with our system'. Of course there was-as Admiral
Dewar rightly claims; but Beatty himself did not bring about a tactical revolution
of the nature which Admiral Dewar propounds when he became C.-in-C.; and the
CORRESPONDENCE
379
reason must surely be either that he did not realise the necessity, or that it was
beyond his capacity to effect such a change. The fault in the system under which
both Jellicoe and Beatty laboured stemmed, in my view, less from any incapacity
on their part than from the long ascendancy of the 'material' school, and from the
pace at which Admiral Sir John Fisher forced his reforms on the Navy. Undoubtedly
many, if not most of those reforms were timely; but the very pace set by Fisher,
and his own lack of interest in tactical principles and theory, prevented experiment
and training in tactics developing progressively and parallel with training in weapon
use. There is food for thought in the fact that some clauses in the 1939 Fighting
Instructions show just as great a rigidity as the Grand Fleet Battle Orders of 1914-18;
yet in the interim the training of our fleets had been in the hands of men who were
plainly determined that the errors and weaknesses revealed on 31st May, 1916,
should not be reveated.
In my opinioi by far the greatest factor in preventing the lessons of Jutland
being properly digested and assimilated was the suppression applied to those who
endeavoured to produce a fair and balanced account of the battle in the 1920s. The
difficulties encountered by Sir Julian Corbett in writing Naval Operations, Vol. 111,
are underlined by the wording of the Admiralty's 'disclaimer' in that book, and
by the exclusion (until the 1940 Edition was published) of all mention of the deciphers
which were in the Admiralty's possession. Sir Herbert Richmond once told me
how the emasculation of that book had broken both Corbett's health and his spirit,
and he mentions the same matter in a letter printed in A. J. Marder's Portrait of
an Admiral. Then Admiral Harper has drawn attention to the grave doubts which
exist regarding the accuracy of the Lion's track chart as printed in the official
accounts-a matter on which Admiral Dewar does not comment but which has
never been cleared up. Admiral Dewar mentions the tragic fate of the 1921 'St&
Appreciation'. Though I feel sure that it is modesty which has prevented him stating
that he himself was the chief author of that very able analysis, I none the less feel
that he would have been wise to say so-if only because copies presumably still exist
somewhere or other (rarely does a burning of books achieve a 100per cent destruction),
and a comparison may some day be made between what was written in 1921 and what
he has now given us. Moreover the destruction of a book to which he must have
devoted many months of arduous toil may reasonably be held to have coloured
his attitude towards the school which ordered that destruction-namely the supporters
of Tellicoe.
But Jellicoe's supporters were, unfortunately, not alone in taking suppressive
action; for Beatty as First Sea Lord was undoubtedly aware of the treatment
accorded to Corbett. Indeed the letters in Richmond's correspondence deploring
Beatty's tampering with the official account, and certain private papers which have
come into my possession indicate that he may have initiated the emasculation of
Corbett's account. Thus both Corbett's and Harper's work underwent similar, if
somewhat less drastic treatment to that suffered bv Admiral Dewar's 'Staff
Appreciation'-though at the hands of the opposite school of thought. How, one
may ask, can the lessons of war be made available for study by posterity if the chief
participants, or their most powerful adherents, acting with the full weight of
departmental authority behind them, ruthlessly eliminate the conclusions of competent and honest historians merely because they do not agree with them ?
To turn to less controversial, though still very interesting points which have arisen
380
CORRESPONDENCE
from Admiral Dewar's articles, I am sure that Captain Boswell is right in attributing
the loss of our three battle-cruisers chiefly, if not entirely, to the magazines not
being flash-tight against an explosion in the turrets; and I warmly welcome Admiral
Pridham's authoritative, yet intensely disquieting account of the causes behind the
failure of our armour-piercing shell. Though the broad facts were known to me,
and the late Admiral Sir Frederick Dreyer gives part of the story in his autobiography, 'Sea Heritage', I do not believe that a full explanation exists anywhere
else. The number of cases I have come across where armour-piercing bombs or shells
did not function properly in actions fought in the last war lends unhappy support
to Admiral Pridham's view that the failures continued for longer than has been
commonly supposed.
In conclusion, as I have said, I welcome Admiral Dewar's articles, and I admire
their thorough and careful presentation; but I am still confident that the last word
on the subject has not been said; and I do feel that his criticisms of the two
Commanders (but especially of Jellicoe), and his strictures on our training and our
material would have lost none of their effectiveness had he expressed them more
temperately, perhaps placing more weight on the historical background to which
the indecisiveness of that fateful day may chiefly be attributed.
Yours faithfully,
S. W. RO~KILL
SIR,-Members of THE NAVAL REVIEW have surely found Admiral Dewar's lengthy
study of Jutland and its lessons of unusual interest. The more's the pity that he
should have considered it necessary not only to criticise but to denigrate Jellicoe.
I venture to suggest that the following concluding extract from a study of the battle
which has, coincidentally, just appeared in the journal History Today (the issues
for May and June) is a more worthy judgment. (I quote it in extenso because History
Today is probably u n f h m i h to most members):'The failure to achieve a decisive result, in so far as it should be attributed to any
man when faced with an equally skilful Admiral, must lie with Jellicoe. (But) his
chief fault, for which none can blame him, is that he was cast for a role that only
a Nelson could have played-though he had not the genius of Nelson . . .
'Lord Fisher, with characteristic exaggeration, called Jutland a disaster. It might,
with some hesitation, be called a tragedy. But the judgment of a contemporary
New York newspaper remains the most succinct: "The High Seas Fleet has assaulted
its jailor; but it is still in jail". Although indecisive, Jutland played a significant
part in giving Britain the final victory. Scheer made another sortie as early as
August 19th, 1916, but there was no battle, and never again did he hazard an action
with the Grand Fleet. With the High Seas Fleet thus reduced to small use to
Germany, Berlin turned to unrestricted U-boat warfare against maritime trade.
That brought the United States into the war, her troops aching France in time
to reinforce the near-exhausted Allies for the final blow with which Foch destroyed
the German Army. As that army crumbled, the German people faced another
enemy, a revolution whose seed spread to the High Seas Fleet. In the last event
it mutinied rather than obey Scheer's order to sail for a final battle with the Grand
Fleet.
'The arrival of the High Seas Fleet in the Firth of Forth for internment after
the Armistice was a triumph without previous parallel in naval history; and no
38 1
CORRESPONDENCE
criticism can deny to Jellicoe and Beatty chief credit for it. Although they never
gained a victory comparable with Quiberon or Trafalgar, they created and maintained a battlefleet whose blockade led to the surrender of the whole of the enemy
fleet. And their legacy was a British Navy which, though much reduced in material
strength by the Washington and London Treaties of 1923 and 1930, showed all
the old Nelsonic skill when, in 1939, it was again called upon to defend Britain's
moat. To quote H.R.H. the Duke of Gloucester, speaking in 1948 when he
unveiled their busts in Trafalgar Square:"Together Jellicoe and Beatty led the Royal Navy through the last great
crisis of the long centuries when sea power depended upon ships and seamen
alone. Their names bridge the gulf between the classic tradition of Trafalgar
and the onset of total war as we know it today. They were buried in St. Paul's
Cathedral twelve years ago; but it is right that we should do them this final
honour in Trafalgar Square, beside the monument of our greatest seaman
and on the anniversary of his greatest victory".'
History Today is right in saying that Jellicoe and Beatty should have their places
in Trafalgar Square, not upon a pinnacle as high as Nelson's, but in niches beneath
his shadow. In Admiral Hopwood's words :The Spirit of the Service which uplifts
The deeds of seamen to their glorious best,
Knows well that a diversity of gifts
Serves but to make its radiance manifest.
On such the cryptic sightless eye is cast
Of one with neither words nor time to spare,
Only too thankful both have joined at last
His lonely vigil in Trafalgar Square.
Yours truly,
'WALRUS'
SIR,-I venture to think that Vice-Admiral Dewar has 'situated his appreciation'
on the assumption that Admiral Jellicoe meant to take his fleet into action with the
Battle Fleet in a long single line and the Advanced Forces in the precise position
indicated on the Deployment Diagram. I know this was not so, for I was one of the
staff officers employed by Admiral Madden to prepare the 1920 version. Clear
authority was given to leaders of squadrons to act independently while conforming to
the general movements of the Commander-in-Chief, The Advanced Forces were to
seek to dominate the waters ahead of both fleets; the Deployment Diagram showed
the distances ahead of the Battle Fleet they should take up to leave room for one
another. The purpose of the orders and instructions was not to tell senior officers
how to handle their own units, but to inform them how other units might be expected
to act in co-operation with them. All those who saw the demonstration of the battle
at the Tactical School will realise how hard it was to judge the situation. As one
flag-officer said: 'Lord Jellicoe was our school-master in tactics, and boys are always
sticky after their master.'
In 1919 Admiral Madden received a copy of the report of the Austrian N.A.an instructive revelation of what the Germans thought had happened. From it he
382
CORRESPONDENCE
learnt for the first time of the two 'Battle turns'. Asked what Lord Jellicoe would
have done had he known, he said: 'I would have turned the whole fleet together
ninety degrees to starboard to get them all moving in the right direction, but Lord
Jellicoe would never have used the Blue Pendant in action, for it would have locked
the fleet on a long line of bearing. I would have unlocked it by making Divisionschase.'
The Grand Fleet of 1916 was not equipped for fighting a regular night action.
In many ships searchlight control had been made by ships' st& from ships' stores;
if we had had star-shell, there were few guns from which they could have been fired;
destroyers could not fire torpedoes from the bridge. The High Seas Fleet had good
identification signals and good night-glasses; but above all, all they had to do was to
blast their way though anything they met, in doing which they sank at least one of
their own ships.
Our needs were well enough known. Experimental firings were begun in 1904,
in which I played a humble part in the combined duties of Captain's doggie, rangetaker and searchlight controller, but money was tight. There were heavy cuts in the
1912 estimates which I believe included a large sum for cordite flash trials. The
Admiralty put all the money they could squeeze out of the Treasury into day gunnery.
And who shall say there were wrong ? The great moment for which our resources
and our work had been devoted did come when Scheer gave up the gun for the
helm; but no one on the bridge of the Iron Duke knew it.
Yours truly,
A. H. TAYLOR.
P.S.-The Fighting Instructions of the 17th and 18th centuries were not issued by
the Admiralty, as Vice-Admiral Dewar appears to think, but by the Commanders-inChief of fleets, who could issue such Additional Instructions as they thought fitand did, beginning with the Duke of York himself. Commanders of Squadrons had
full freedom of action, since they were simply directed 'to take the best advantage to
engage the enemy'. The only occasions on which such independent action was
taken led to the Admiral being left to deal with the enemy as best he could with the
ships he had left with him. At Sole Bay, Jordan, in spite of 20 years experience as a
flag officer, found little he could do for 'in this smoke and hurry we could not well
discern what was done to leeward'. The victory of St. James' Day 1660 was fought on
parallel courses. This happy result was largely due to Cornelius Tromp having
decided to 'go it alone' with the best squadron of the Dutch Fleet.
The misfortunes of the 18th century were due much more to personal and political
animosities than to the shortcomings of the system; they were real enough, but gave
no trouble to Boscawen and Hawke.
A.H.T.
S I R , - T ~ ~articles by Vice-Admiral Dewar in three recent issues of THE NAVAL
comprising a total of some 46 pages, make rather depressing reading. They
tend to revive the old controversies and they add yet more criticism of our best
naval leaders to the regrettable quantity that has already been printed. The most
violent critics of our Flag Officers were, in 1914, nearly all junior officers with very
little experience of command or of conducting the operations of war. After the war
they mostly seemed to march down the road looking behind them and giving too
REVIEW,
CORRESPONDENCE
383
little thought to the much more important future in front of them. The question
arises in one's mind 'Are we to suppose that if the training and conduct of our
fleets had been left entirely in the hands of our critics, we should then have achieved
famous victories ? However, we must not criticise the critics, nor must we complain
of Admiral Dewar's valuable work. He is an able historian and as such his main
task is to analyse the past, which he does very efficiently.
The sad thing about most of our critics is that their constructive suggestions,
often useful. are sometimes buried under their flood of destructive criticism. This
flood is of little value because it only serves to illustrate, like so much of our less
important historical work, the old maxim that 'the first thing one learns from history
is that most people learn nothing from history'. The main result is that criticisms
by British writers are quoted all round the world to show that the British Navy
was not really what most people supposed it to be. But when we judge by results
it may be doubted if, adding up everything at the end of both our wars, any other
nation achieved, or even could have achieved, so much. A truer valuation of what
our Navy did is perhaps contained in the words of Sir Winston Churchill when he
said to Lord Ismay, 'I rather got in the habit of asking the Navy to do the impossible,
because I found that when the time came they nearly always did itY.
But now let us turn our eyes to the future. The only value of destructive criticism
is to use it as a basis for constructive suggestions, which if good and useful must
then be worked into a system of training designed to ensure that the errors of the
past will never be repeated. This was done by Admiral Richmond and a few others.
His books, 'National Policy and Naval Strength' and 'Statesmen and Sea Power',
were brilliant examples of the kind of book that is really useful. I n my own experience
of two world wars I have seen many errors committed and they usually were redeemed
by brilliant leadership and the fine morale and fighting spirit that permeated all
ranks. It has been suggested that some of our senior officers were bone-headed and
strongly opposed to new ideas. It is therefore only fair to put on record that all my
experience is exactly the opposite. As a very junior officer in 1911 I wrote some
short papers on naval tactics. They were amateurish and very imperfect, but the
Admiralty, probably in order to encourage me, arranged for them to be collected,
printed and issued to a number of Flag Officers. At a later date I put forwardvarious
suggestions which I might have expected to be opposed by some of my senior
officers, but in every case I found that the objectors were very few and I obtained
warm support from most of the others. Another common criticism is that senior
officers at Headquarters like to direct everything themselves and to restrict the
initiative of the man on the spot. My experience is that when this does occur it is
easily dealt with and prevented. I would suggest that it is the duty, not always
remembered, of the man on the spot to deal with every situation as it arises and to
ask for instructions from some senior officer in the distant background only when
he thinks it absolutely necessary. The man who is always signalling to 'request
instructions' is a man who fails to understand his duties and is helping to perpetuate
an old, defective system. T o show that this system is not desired by intelligent
people at the top I could quote the case of a C.-in-C. who was removed from his
Command because, instead of getting on with his job, he was always signalling to
the Admiralty to 'request instructions'.
In my personal experience I could quote two cases where instructions were sent
to me by two very senior officers about work that I had been told to deal with. I
submitted very politely, for reasons which I gave, that the instructions sent did
not seem to deal with the problem in the best way possible, and thereafter I never
had the slightest trouble. Now let me give another constructive suggestion. Among
the small number of our more caustic critics a few are now dead but two or three
are still alive. Would it not be possible now for all of them to turn their eyes to the
future and write a book that would tell us how our officers and men can be trained
to ensure that the errors of the past will not be repeated ? I would suggest to each
of them a preface that might read something like this:Since 1918 a flood of criticism, by a small number of critics, has been
levelled at nearly all of our Flag Officers who held important commands in
the First World War. Of course many mistakes were made as they always
are in war, but fortunately the war was won by the side that made the fewest
mistakes, and that was ours. In the future we must try to make even fewer
mistakes, and there is urgent need for someone to tell us how to arrange this.
1 am therefore, in this book, aiming to describe three things:A. The main principles that seem to have been disregarded in the
past, usually with regrettable results.
B. An outline of the training system that should be carried out in our
War College, St& Colleges, etc.
C . An outline of the training system that should be practised afloat in
time of peace in order to provide us with officers who will give us
the best possible results in war.
The hard school of war is, of course, a valuable training ground for young
officers, in spite of Frederick the Great's caustic comment about his ass:
'You see that ass? He has accompanied me through six campaigns, but he
is still an ass'.
Certainly in our case many of our young officers learned a lot in the First
World War and applied it with immense success in the Second. But, in
addition, a good deal of quiet training work was being done between 1918
and 1938 by officers who knew what the requirements of the next war would
be. Thus there was, by 1939, a marked improvement in those essential
qualities such as Powers of Leadership, Initiative and the Cultivation of the
Offensive Spirit.
Our task now is to turn our eyes to the future and make sure that this
good work shall continue. In past wars we have often had sufficient time to
learn from our mistakes and correct them. But in the next we are more likely
to be reminded of the old maxim 'A thousand years scarce serve to form a State,
an hour may lay it in the dust'. It is therefore greatly to be hoped that other
students of war, or officers with war experience, will write books on the
lines which I have suggested here.
Having thrown out this suggestion I may say that, being now in my eightieth
year, I shall certainly not be one of the starters.
Yours truly,
R. P-ERNLE-ERLE-DRAX
CORRESPONDENCE
385
S1~,-The truism can be agreed, I suppose, that general strategy dictates certain
tactics and that the imagined potentialities and known limitations of the weapons
available must influence both strategy and tactics. In the April issue no less than
three correspondents, and also one article, laid stress on the weapon factor as affecting
the conduct of the Battle of Jutland. Incidentally, Jellicoe, as Controller of Naval
Ordnance 1908-10, discovered the failings of 12-inch A.P. shell at oblique impact,
but went to sea before he could push the remedial procedure through channels.
My source for this is 'The Sea Heritage' by Admiral Sir Frederic Dreyer, an
interesting book to read as a chaser to the 'fiery spirit' of Vice-Admiral Dewar's
series of articles. F. C . Dreyer was Flag Captain in the Iron Duke at Jutland, a
gunnery expert and, naturally enough, a 'Jellicoe-ite'.
As stated in 'The Battle of Jutland-111' in the April issue, the complete defeat
of the High Seas Fleet would have given us command of Heligoland Bight and
hence a stranglehold on German submarine operations; and would have opened
the way to the Baltic for reinforcements to Russia. As we now know the importance
of these objectives increased as the war progressed but in the light of the situation
in 1916 their importance could have been outweighed by the risk of 'losing the war
in an afternoon'. At a bridge 'post-mortem' one should not in fairness observe the
odds after the cards have been displayed, but rather as they would have appeared
during the game.
The final instalment of 'The Battle of Jutland' contains interesting pages devoted
to the training of young officers towards a better and earlier appreciation of the
problems some would have to face in later years. This is a controversial subject
on which everyone has their own views, coloured by their own experience in youth.
To me, the theory taught to cadets aged 129 to 169 at Osborne and Dartmouth in
1908-12 was interesting and educative, although to others it may have appeared
as a waste of time which could have been spent in gaining responsibility and practical
experience of naval affairs. I must add that many people nowadays would regard
this latter course as too precocious and conducive to a low standard of general
education.
Theory, if it is taught by competent instructors and not treated as dogma, is
not just factual information, but an exercise of the mind. For instance, the night
watchkeeping officer in the tropics has opportunities to appreciate some of his
instructor's theory of the solar system.
Education and training are sometimes used as interchangeable words but to
think clearly it helps to divide the subject into the following three heads:Education-for the development of the understanding and intelligence.
Training-for the development of particular skills and good manners.
Experience-for the synthesis of both the above and for the development of
'judgment'.
All three merge and impinge on each other, of course, as colours of the rainbow,
but the divisions remain for our consideration. It is, I think, remarkable that ViceAdmiral H. G. Rickover, U.S.N., a technician among technicians, gives highest
priority to 'education' rather than to 'training'; but then Hiram G. Rickover is a
remarkable man. In a popular article entitled 'The World of the Uneducated' in the
Saturday Evening Post of 28th November, 1959, he defines education as follows:'Education must give the individual the knowledge and the mental capacity
to understand what lies beyond his personal experience and observation . .
.
386
CORRESPONDENCE
to familiarise him with events and people distant in time and in space so that
he can form independent judgments on social phenomena and comprehend
also the physical world and the laws of nature, thus to judge man's potentialities and limitations-his own place in nature in fact'.
Continuing, the Vice-Admiral contends that this desirable kind of education can
be gained for the young only by an insistence on rigorous academic standards in
mathematics, physics and the humanities, as a definite priority to training in specific
skills.
Speaking for myself, with all due diffidence, I would say that the teaching of the
existing theories behind our subjects at the old naval colleges was wholly beneficial
to the individual. Doubtless, however, in the short run and under the threat of war
and naval expansion, competent young officers could have been turned out faster
by a more 'practical' curriculum of 'training', without that smattering of 'education'
which we were lucky enough to obtain from good instructors.
Yours truly,
'DIM'
SIR,-Admiral Dewar paints a depressing picture of the Royal Navy before,
during and after the Battle of Jutland and it is hardly cheering to read a later article
in the same issue of THENAVAL REVIEW called 'The End of an Era'. From the former
we gain an overall impression of incorrect principles in training with repression of
initiative leading to faulty methods of tactical command and so on. From the latter
we learn that our heavy ships, throughout the battleship era, were equipped with
a considerable percentage of 'dud' shells.
So it seems that the 'Sure Shield' was in fact not quite so sure when confronted
with war instead of the Equal Speed manoeuvres, harbour drills and competitive
cleanliness of peace, and the practice firings using shells filled with sand. I believe
these general criticisms to be justified and would only seek to discover any further
lessons. But first a few words about the battle.
One of Admiral Dewar's main criticisms of the C.-in-C. concerns the way in
which he sought to manoeuvre, personally, the whole battle fleet. While all will
agree with the need for initiative, I wonder what would have been the result if all
those Battleship Divisional Commanders had been filled with initiative, ilan and
so o n ? Surely the battle fleet would very soon have become dispersed over an
immense area and in a short time the C.-in-C. would have lost any form of control.
I n the state of communications then existing and with the plotting errors which
would have been inevitable, I think a hopelessly confused situation would have
arisen. Reliance on subordinates is an excellent thing, but for the C.-in-C. to issue
the kind of general directive envisaged by Admiral Dewar-and then presumably
to leave everyone to a glorious 'free-for-all'-is
the sort of thing that could be done
with sailing ships but is much more difficult when dealing with large numbers of
fast-steaming vessels.
I believe that, with a battle fleet the size of ours at Jutland, and particularly in
view of the type of training to which they were accustomed, there was no alternative
to retaining the main body in a fairly rigid formation. The criticism, therefore,
which carries weight is that which condemns the training and the trend of thought
which lay behind the battle orders rather than the individual.
CORRESPONDENCE
387
Admiral Dewar revives the argument for entry at 18 instead of earlier, fortunately
now decided. Personally I believe that the chief advantage of the late entry is that
there is some chance, at 18, for a good selection to be made and for it to be possible
to judge whether a candidate is likely to make a good officer. At the age of 12 to 13
there was, of course, no such chance and the scheme only succeeded at all because
of the strictly limited 'layer' of society from which the candidates were drawn.
Admiral Dewar makes a refreshing comment on mathematics to which all those
who, like myself, hated the subject, will be immediately drawn. But, much
as I would like to subscribe, I doubt whether the modern naval officer can quite
get away with his book of log tables, even though I presume that in all his comments
on training Admiral Dewar is referring to the Seaman specialist only. I cannot
help recalling my own experience as a Torpedo Lieutenant of a battleship with a
Captain whose greatest pride was his total ignorance of all technical matters. This
was combined with a formidable presence and an invincible conviction that any
failure was due to laziness or incompetence. With such a person it was quire
impossible to reason; we might have been speaking two different languages. I fear,
therefore, that some basic technical knowledge is necessary in the future commanders
of modern vessels, but the extent of this needs careful control or the individual will
suffer.
Naval training, says Admiral Dewar, ought to develop the character and intellect
on which skilled leadership depends, and I must welcome his criticism of the 'strange
spectacle of young officers chipping paintwork, etc'. If we train these officers like
ordinary seamen we must not be surprised if they behave and develop as such.
Comparatively little is said in the Jutland articles about our ships; I always think
the best comment on this subject was the remark made by Admiral Beatty at Jutland.
After seeing our battle-cruisers blowing up he said, with admirable restraint, 'There
is something the matter with our bloody ships today'. There was, indeed, and so
there was with the 'mighty Hood', and so there was with our largest class of justpre-1939 escorts which had to be hurriedly re-designed. In two world wars the
enemy ships were better than ours.
So we had inferior ships and unreliable shells, and it seems the shell business
went right on into Hitler's war. I am so glad I did not know about this as I listened
with growing apprehension to all the noise in the Duke of York as we shot at the
Scharnhorst, achieving countless straddles-so said the radar-but no effective result
until, I suppose, we came to a 'live' shell in the locker, which had its effect in
reducing the enemy's speed and enabled the destroyers to sink her. The German
destroyers had been sent back to harbour by their Admiral. Perhaps they, like ours
at Jutland, were not trained in night attack. Bravely handled, as ours were, they
might have saved their flagship and reversed the decision, for they were, of course,
more powerful ships than our destroyers.
It is interesting to note that all critics of Jutland adopt the line that the 'fiasco'
was due to the failure of the Command to bring the High Seas Fleet to action.
This is a very correct and British point of view and it assumes, of course, that had
this been done there would have been a great British victory. The really great
strength of the Royal Navy has been, for centuries, its conviction of its own
superiority, which is part of the curious British conviction of our national superiority,
regardless of any other opinion. This conviction is of enormous value in war as it
naturally leads to an inability to imagine ourselves being defeated-a thing which
388
CORRESPONDENCE
has often puzzled Continental nations. So far in our history we have combined this
conviction with a good deal of actual strength, and of course at Jutland we were
superior in numbers. But, at the risk of being entirely unBritish, it may seem to
some that if the two fleets had met at Tutland under ideal conditions at an effective
range, the result might not have been in our favour, bearing in mind the weaknesses
in our ships and their ammunition.
That it was the dearest wish of all concerned in the Grand Fleet that this battle
should take place I am absolutely convinced. That it did not, and that a similar
opportunity was missed later, were indeed bitter blows for the Grand Fleet, but
may have saved the nation. This, of course, is no argument for ineffective tactical
corkrol, lack of destroyer training and so on; it is merely a comment on this particular
'fiasco'.
The lessons, then, seem to be that we must be very sure of our training of future
Commanders and that this must be imaginative, well balanced, productive of initiative
and based on sound principles-all very obvious. What is much more difficult is
how to prevent some rather forcible eccentric from suddenly taking charge, getting
himself rapidly advanced and then seeing to it that certain people are placed in
responsible positions. That this could happen again is undeniable, though there
are of course certain safeguards which ought to prevent it. But no human system
can be proof against it. On the technical side, it looks as though it is now easier
to have plenty of nuclear warheads than means of delivering them-a curious
reversal from the days when we had lots of guns and not enough live shell. In the
matter of staff training, so far as numbers are concerned, we now seem to have
learned the lesson. At Jutland we had an enormous Navy and few staff officersnow we have lots of staff officers and a very little Navy.
Apart from further discussion of personalities, which I would not recommend, I
doubt whether there is much more to be learned from Jutland. Let us hope that
in future those responsible will see to it that we have both effective weapons and
effective means of delivering them, and ships which are at least as good as those
opposing us. It seems unlikely that we shall have that superiority in numbers
which we enjoyed in the past, so that we may require all our reserves of British
invincibility.
Yours truly,
'J'
SIR,-Owing, no doubt, to not serving in the Grand Fleet under Beatty, ViceAdmiral Dewar's criticism that when Beatty succeeded Jellicoe he only introduced
one reform-turning towards instead of away from a torpedo attack-and this
represented the general level of British tactical thought at the time, is unwarranted.
Beatty was young, highly intelligent, had commanded the battle-cruisers for two
years, during which he had made a profound study of battle tactics and made full
use of the brains of his carefully selected staff. This much is clear from Admiral
Chalmer's biography. I was then Flag Commander to Admiral Sturdee and the
Squadron Admirals and their staffs were frequently on board the fleet flagship
investigating, on the tactical table, new tactics to force battle on ,an opponent who
was most unlikely to stand and fight. The most profitable use of the fast Battle
Squadron (Fifth) and the slow Battle Squadron (Fourth), the best tactics to meet
CORRESPONDENCE
389
destroyer attack, the most profitable use of our destroyers and of smoke screens,
every phase of battle was exhaustively examined.
Incidentally one of the strangest accusations made by Jellicoe's critics (in an
earlier NAVAL REVIEW)
was that the low visibility was a figment of imagination to
cloak the failure to bring Scheer to battle; they forgot that if it had been a fine clear
day Scheer would never have ventured anywhere near the Grand Fleet and
certainly not blundered twice into gun range.
My purpose in writing this letter is to assure readers of THE NAVAL REVIEW that
Beatty, his Squadron Admirals and their staff officers were not really as stupid as
Vice-Admiral Dewar would have them believe.
Yours faithfully,
W. M. JAMES
SIR,-I suspect that I am not alone in agreeing substantially with a great deal that
Vice Admiral Dewar has said about the Battle of Jutland and the 'system' which he
condemns. But I deprecate his wounding remarks about individuals whom I was
brought up to revere; human nature being what it is they tend to alienate my
sympathy with his views. These wounding remarks therefore, are not only utterly
unnecessary, but from the point of view of a writer presumably seeking to gain
acceptance of his arguments, seem to me to be utterly stupid.
Yours truly,
M.G.
OCEAN CONVOY, 1943-45
SIR,-My account in your April number of an attack on a convoy on August 13th,
1943, has brought me a courteous correction from the S.O. Escort concerned, who
was congratulated by Admiral Cunningham for his 'sturdy defence' on that occasion:
'You have given the enemy a sore head which he will remember'. His extracts from
his own and German reports upend my impressionist picture culled from Gibraltar
eyewitnesses. But some pictures upside down still make a point, and he confirms
my main one which I think of some importance, viz. that the Lufiwaffe tried new
tactics and failed decisively, i.e. combing the columns at a low level to give their
guns a 'foul range'. Their usual method to which they reverted, being to approach
after sunset at low level to avoid radar, attacking selected target ships in pairs,
zooming up after dropping their torpedoes. My first informant-the Commander (D)
S.O. Escorts at Gibraltar (I believe), discussed the encounter guardedly with reference
to the future. Having mistakenly assumed he was the actual S.O. Escort on the
spot I may have partly misunderstood his reticence. Both he and the Commodore
gave me the impression that while many ships claimed to have brought down planes,
none felt sure of more than two, which could have been the same two. The first
German wireless bulletin on the 14th did not give their losses, and I did not know
of Major Kluemper's later report admitting seven lost, on which the C.-in-C.'s
congratulations were based. This figure amended to eight seems to have been
accepted by the Air Ministry as 'according to German records'. It is odd that the
390
CORRESPONDENCE
Intelligence Officer's carefully checked reports of seventeen planes down in Spain
appear to have been ignored: they bring the total losses to over twenty, which
roughly fits the usual ratio between fact and propaganda, by which we used to
reckon. Major Kluemper persists in his odd belief that the convoy was eastbound.
The S.O. Escort says the first attack was from ahead, and the second from astern,
and that the Heinkels dropped two torpedoes 'and also small bombs which they
released as they flew down through the convoy lines'. The idea of angled torpedoes
may have been the Commodore's or mine rather than Major Kluemper's. Both
Commodores told mostly of planes coming from astern (possibly because the first
attack was more of a surprise) and of seeing far more of the enemy than ever before.
I only spoke to a few men in hospital, but they were unanimous that for the first
time the guns had plenty of targets and comparatively easy ones. The unprecedented
number of light casualties also suggest that the method was unique. The first
German claim of having made thirty-two torpedo hits and sunk 'two destroyers,
four large fully laden vessels and left eight motionless, burning and listing heavily'
suggests great expectations from close attack, but great confusion since ships were
expected to be steering east and never recognised to be on the opposite course.
My account, in ignorance, gave insufficient credit to Shoreham, herself attacked by
three torpedo droppers, but the S.O. ends his report: 'All the escorts scored hits
with close range weapons, and near misses with H.E., but the greatest volume of close
range fire came from the convoy. It was magnificent'. A boldly pressed-home
attack by thirty-seven Heinkels and eight JU.88 (S.O.'s report) cost the Luftwaffe
over twenty planes and cost us two ships damaged.
I feel that this encounter deserves a closer and more authoritative analysis than it
seems to have received.
Yours truly,
C . G. BRODIE