The Story of Our Submarines Part 7

The escape of Lieut.-Commander Cochrane from Asia Minor is being described in 'Maga.' The account of how he became a prisoner seems to indicate that he was not likely to remain a submissive captive:--

"6.30 A.M.: Pa.s.sed Kilid Bahr at 200 yards--the periscope being fired on by the forts without result.

"7.30: Sighted the buoys of the submarine net off Nagara Point.

Dived to 100 feet and increased to 7-1/2 knots.

"The bows cut through the net as the starboard propeller fouled and stopped the starboard motor. Went hard-a-port and port motor to full speed. Boat fell off to port and lay parallel to and much entangled in the net. I tried to turn the boat's head to south and pa.s.s through the net.

"8.30 A.M.: A mine exploded a few hundred feet from the boat, no damage being done.

"After about two hours manoeuvring the boat was turned to the southward, and repeated attempts to get clear were made at depths of from 60 to 130 feet by going full speed ahead and astern. Boat was now held by the net fore and aft.

"10.30 A.M.: A mine was exploded close to the boat. The explosion was violent, but no damage was done to the hull. After this explosion the boat was much freer than before, _and in the hopes that further attempts to blow up the boat might result in completely freeing her_,[2] I decided to remain submerged at a good depth till after dark, when it might be possible to come to the surface and clear the obstruction. Burned all confidential papers.

[2] The italics are mine.--AUTHOR.

"By 2 P.M. battery power was much reduced and further attempts to get clear were given up for a time.

"6.40 P.M.: A mine was exploded a few feet from the hull; the explosion was very violent--electric lights and other small fittings being broken. The motors were at once started in the hope that the net had been destroyed; but this was not the case. The presence of enemy craft on the surface having made it impossible to come to the surface after dark and so clear the obstruction, I decided to come up and remove the crew from the boat before blowing her up. The boat was brought to the surface without difficulty, and when the conning-tower was above water Lieutenant Scaife went on deck to surrender the crew. Fire was immediately opened on him from light guns on sh.o.r.e and three motor-boats which were lying round 'E 7.' As soon as the excitement had died down and the enemy officers had regained control of their men, two motor-boats came alongside and the officers and men were taken off without difficulty. This operation was carried out under the orders of German submarine officers. The boat was sunk as soon as she was clear of men, and a time-fuse having been fired, subsequently blew up.

"Throughout the day the discipline and behaviour of the crew was excellent. This was particularly noticeable at the time of the third explosion. At this time the crew had been fallen out from their stations, and many of them were asleep. On being called to their stations every man went quietly to his place, although the violence of the explosion was such as to convince every one that the boat was badly damaged.

"... Petty Officer Sims, L.T.O., was in charge of the after-switchboard, and continued throughout the day to work the starboard motor, although much hampered by smoke and pieces of molten copper, due to the damage received by the motor and starting resistances while freeing the propeller."

Lieut.-Commander Cochrane attempted to escape, but after covering 200 miles was, with Lieut.-Commander Stoker of "AE 2," captured ten miles from the coast. They received a year's imprisonment, and on August 18, 1918, Lieut.-Commander Cochrane started his successful trip, accompanied by seven military officers, back to England.

V

I

In 1916 we began to look to Germany to produce something very unpleasant in the way of submarines. We were certain she would follow the obvious course indicated by the lessons all belligerents were learning, and produce the big U-cruiser. Very fortunately for us, she produced nothing of the sort until well into 1918, when one small U-cruiser did us a great deal of damage. The point was this--We were worrying and chasing U-boats with trawlers, motor-boats, destroyers, and numbers of other comparatively small and weakly-armed craft. If a U-cruiser, armed with, say, four 6-inch guns, and armoured along her top-strakes, had risen to fight her tormentors--well, it is clear that our small patrol-vessel service would have become suddenly very expensive. Each convoy would have required cruiser protection, and we had not enough cruisers to provide this. In 1917, by our constructor's reckonings, there was no reason why a German submarine could not have been produced which could proceed safely to the East Indies (round the Cape), and repeat (on a bigger scale) the exploits of the _Emden_.

Well, the Germans didn't do it; they produced U-cruisers with two 59"

guns apiece in 1918, but the type was unsatisfactory and unstable. It is still a puzzle to us that the idea came to them so slowly. We had K-cla.s.s boats with the fleet in 1916 of 2600 tons, and had shown that a big submarine was a working proposition. (The K boat, of course, is not a cruiser-submarine; she is a fast and lightly-gunned type for use in battle only, and she does not leave the fleet except when detached for watching patrols.) We produced the M-cla.s.s in 1917, and--for obvious reasons--we kept the type as secret as possible until the Armistice.

The M boat is rather smaller than the K, and is of only seventeen knots speed, but she has far better under-water capabilities than her big companion. She carries, besides her torpedo armament, a 12-inch gun of the normal battleship type. This gun can be carried loaded submerged by the use of a watertight tampion and breech. The boat can rise in the wake of an enemy, fire as she "breaks surface," and submerge again--all in a matter of seconds.

The type was extremely successful, and one can only be thankful that such boats were not on the enemy's side. They would have been the very devil to deal with on the trade routes, and would have caused us to reconsider very hurriedly our whole system of anti-submarine defence.

Of course, four 6-inch would be better than one 12-inch from a German point of view, especially as a destroyer would be likely to attack unscathed under the fire of one big gun, but our type was intended for use against such things as enemy cruisers, and not for sinking merchant ships. By the end of the war the enemy had arrived at the stage of submarine design where one says, "We've got a type that works--let us stick to it, and just add improvements." We pa.s.sed that stage before the war and are now in the confident (with reservations!) state of feeling that we can turn out anything required to combine the properties of under-water and surface craft. If submarines continue as weapons of war, they will improve very considerably, and the range of possibility of future types is so great that any prophecy now would be rash. It must be remembered, however, that the depth of water in which a boat is intended to operate limits her size. It is not only that the distance from her keel to periscope is (in the case of a big boat) some 50 feet, but also that the great length of a big boat's hull means that even a slight fore-and-aft inclination as she dives will add enormously to her draught; a very long boat in twenty fathoms of water (the North Sea average) would have to be careful not to get off an even keel, as it might happen that in the presence of the enemy her bow or stern would touch bottom, with the result of causing the whole boat to bounce up to the surface. A submarine submerged is in a state of equilibrium, in that she has little or no tendency to rise or sink if her motors are stopped and the boat left to herself. I am afraid in this history that I continue to speak of submarines as if everybody knew a good deal about them. I use technical expressions and words as if I was dealing with things like motor-cars. I will try and explain more clearly what I mean by "bouncing to the surface," and will do so in the idea that there are probably readers who know as much about diving boats as I do of bimetallism.

A submarine is a surface ship which can be submerged and driven ahead at a steady depth-line. She is built strongly in order to resist the water-pressure when she is deep down. She is propelled on the surface by (usually) heavy-oil Diesel engines. When submerged she cannot use these, as they consume air, so she has an electric battery and motors for use under water. The battery is charged when on the surface at her convenience or by favour of the enemy. The Diesel engines are used for this purpose, and they recharge the batteries through the motors, using the latter as dynamos.

In old pictures of projected submarines of the seventeenth century one sees that the principle of "tr.i.m.m.i.n.g down" for submersion was known, and that our present-day system of tanks was intended to be subst.i.tuted by pig-skins which fitted into cylindrical hollows in the hull. These skins were emptied by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g out a ram from inside (on the idea of old-fashioned printing presses) which squashed the skins. Nowadays a boat is all tanks along her lower half, the upper half being living s.p.a.ce and battery room, etc. These tanks are flooded through valves in order to destroy the boat's buoyancy. The water is ejected from them either by pumps or by the use of compressed air, the latter taking the place of the old seventeenth-century screw-press idea. When the tanks have flooded until the boat's buoyancy is all gone--_i.e._, until you could press her down or lift her up with one hand--she is "trimmed," and by going ahead and working the bow and stern hydroplanes you can keep whatever depth-line is required. When submerged, a look-out is kept through a periscope--a tube about thirty feet long which has lenses all the way up, is watertight, and has an eyepiece like an ordinary telescope at its lower end.

To dive, a boat opens her vents, puts "dive" helm on, and goes under with her motors running. The flooding valves are kept open to save time; in surface trim a boat is "hanging on the vents"--_i.e._, if you open the vents (upper valves of the tanks) the water enters and she goes down; until the vents are open the water cannot enter beyond a certain point; when they do open the air in the tanks can get away and the tanks fill up with a rush.

During a trip the "trim" of the boat alters continually. She is using fuel, ammunition, food, and water, and calculation is necessary to allow for this. Certain tanks are used for this compensating, so that on all occasions when a rapid dive is necessary, there is nothing to do but flood the big external tanks, and yet know that the boat will be in hand when under. If mistakes are made, they will show at once. If too much has been put into the "internals" to compensate, the boat will run on down to the bottom in spite of "up helm" and full speed. If too little, you have to flood internals according to an estimate of what is needed as she ploughs along half-submerged; the latter case is one to be avoided, as you may be killed by the enemy while flooding. The usual war practice is to compensate on the "heavy" side--_i.e._, let her go with a rush and blow tanks so as to catch her and hold her at sixty feet; then you can bring her up to patrol depth at your leisure.

It can be seen, then, that the description of a boat as "bouncing" is not incorrect. When going to the bottom for the night it is a common occurrence, if too rough a "landing" is made, to proceed like a tennis-ball along the sand for a couple of hundred yards. It is a curious thing that both in the Cattegat and the Sea of Marmora, boats have been able to lie for the night with motors stopped at depths of from thirty to seventy feet. In the Marmora the junction depth of the salt and fresh water is about seventy. A boat trimmed with about two hundred pounds of negative buoyancy out there will, if she stops her motors, sink slowly through the upper layer of fresh (or brackish) water, till she meets the denser salt below; on reaching this she will be in a state of "positive" buoyancy, and after a little bouncing up and down to find her "zero" stratum, she will settle at a steady depth.

The same sort of thing--a blessing in the Marmora--is a nuisance in the Bight. A boat crossing the mouths of the German rivers may be at one moment diving comfortably with zero helm on the hydroplanes--the next, she meets a layer of fresh water from the Jahde ebb and is b.u.mping on the bottom with "hard-up" helm and the pumps working on the tanks.

II

The exploits of "E 11" in the Dardanelles have been published during the war; this boat, however, did not begin her war career in the Sea of Marmora--she had already shown her usual att.i.tude of contemptuous familiarity towards the enemy when on patrol in the Heligoland Bight.

On one occasion in 1914 she certainly met a "ghost"--_i.e._, something which never gave any satisfactory explanation of what it was. "E 11"

was diving in sight of Heligoland, and having sighted a line of four destroyers coming over her horizon, she turned in to attack them.

Suddenly her bow was jerked up to a startling angle, and tanks had to be hastily flooded to prevent a "break surface." The boat then seemed to go crazy--taking angles by the bow or stern apparently in defiance of all laws of hydrostatics. The captain made up her mind for her by running her down to the bottom in 65 feet and holding her there. In a few minutes the sound of screws came from overhead, and the same sound continued for several minutes. "E 11" was then dived up off the bottom, but was found to be still in the same strange condition, taking up this time an angle of 20 degrees up by the bow. She was once more taken down and held to the bottom, while again screws pa.s.sed by and curious noises came from overhead. The noises went on for an hour, during which time the officers and crew--with the business-like decision of the British nation--had tea. When the noises had stopped "E 11" was again lifted, when she showed a perfect trim and instant obedience to her hydroplanes, proceeding along at her normal patrol depth as if she had never given any trouble at all. Nothing was in sight through the periscope except Heligoland, and the explanation of "E 11's" hysteria is still her own secret.

The same boat, as was reported at the time, shared a Christmas dinner with some representatives of the R.N.A.S. on the day of the 1914 Cuxhaven air raid. The Germans have not given us their version of what happened, but from the following it will be seen that it is a pity that they did not publish an uncensored story.

At 11 A.M. "E 11" was diving on her billet to the westward of Norderney, when she saw through the periscope a seaplane coming out to seaward and flying low. She came to the surface, and, having been placed on that billet "according to plan," was not surprised to find that the machine was British. The seaplane took the water safely, and "E 11" took her in tow with the idea of saving the machine. The pilot (carrying his confidential bomb-sight with him) was taken on board first. Hardly had the tow started when two more seaplanes were seen approaching from the direction of the sh.o.r.e, one of them flying very groggily and looking like an imitation of a tumbler pigeon. "E 11"

stopped and the machines closed her; so did a large Schutte-Lanz type airship, which was presumably in pursuit of them. Of the two seaplanes the undamaged one came down comfortably close to the submarine, and then all spectators stood up to watch the alighting of the other, which was seen to have had its tail shot off and to be under the nominal control of its ailerons only. Everybody held their breath as the pilot brought the machine down, and there was a general groan of sympathy as the crash came. She pitched nose first into the sea, and it looked as though the pilot could hardly have survived; then a wet figure was seen to climb slowly out of the wreck and perch cross-legged on the tip of the broken tail. By this time the enemy airship had arrived, and "E 11" realised that speed in picking up the seaplane pilots was becoming more advisable every minute. An additional complication chose this moment to turn up in the shape of a U-boat,[3] which appeared on the surface about two miles away and then dived--presumably to attack with torpedoes. "E 11" at this stage of the war was unfortunately not fitted with a gun. She slipped tow from Number One seaplane and fired several revolver bullets through its floats to ensure its sinking. She then closed Number Two and took the pilot and observer off her just as the airship arrived overhead at a height of two hundred feet. The faces of the Germans in the gondolas could be clearly seen, and the men in the middle car were displaying considerable activity--probably wrestling with a faulty bomb-dropping gear. Before the bombing business was in working order, however, the light breeze had carried the airship down to leeward--much to the relief of "E 11," who saw the enemy restart her engines in order to make a sweep round and get into position again. "E 11" having punctured the floats of Number Two seaplane with bullets, manoeuvred alongside Number Three, and picked up a very wet pilot and mechanic.

By this time there was every probability of the U-boat having approached inside easy torpedo range--in fact "E 11" was wondering why the expected torpedoes were so slow in arriving. For this reason, and also because the airship was now nearly back overhead again, any further delay was rash, and so the pilot and mechanic were unceremoniously hustled below, and "E 11" demonstrated to them what a "crash-dive" was like from inside. The depth gauges had just reached nineteen feet when two heavy explosions occurred on the surface,--the enemy's bomb-dropping gear was working nicely again, but too late. "E 11" went under feeling a little hurt at having had to leave a job unfinished; she had meant to sink Number Three seaplane before leaving, and was unhappy at the idea of it being still of use to the enemy. On rising sufficiently to use her periscope, however, she was delighted to observe the Schutte-Lanz venting its hate in machine-gun fire on the abandoned machine--an expenditure of ammunition which continued until the sorely-tried raider sank. "E 11" was for a moment inclined to come up to pa.s.s a polite signal of thanks to the enemy, but, after consultation, it was decided that humour was wasted on Germans, and so the boat was taken on to the bottom for a rest while the Xmas dinner was disposed of. The five pa.s.sengers shared the dinner, and presumably enjoyed the day, but it blew half a gale and more all the way home to Harwich, and the motion of an "E" boat takes a lot of getting used to.

[3] Later discovered to be another E-boat.

Everybody has read of the doings of this submarine in the Sea of Marmora, and I will try to avoid writing about despatches already published; but I think the actions between submarines and soldiers have been perhaps only lightly touched on, in view of the fact that such actions are so unique in their nature and circ.u.mstances.

In August 1915 "E 14" and "E 11" met at a rendezvous in the Marmora with the intention of acting on "information received." "E 11" says:--

"August 7th, 5 A.M.: Dived by Dohan Aslan Buoy, keeping watch on road.

"11.30 A.M.: Observed troops on road leading towards Gallipoli.

Rose to surface and opened fire, several shots dropping well amongst them, causing them to scatter. Observed column approaching along same road. Range of the road now being known from our position, dropped several sh.e.l.ls among them. Column took cover in open order.

"1.10 P.M.: Large column observed on road nearer Gallipoli, marching at high speed. Opened fire, but failed to stop progress of column, although a large number of dead and wounded appeared to be left alongside the road. This column was under fire for about half an hour, when we were forced to dive by sh.o.r.e guns.

"3.20 P.M.: Rose to surface and opened fire at a considerable body of troops, apparently resting. They immediately dispersed, and subsequently opened a well-directed fire with a field gun. Dived."

"E 14" (her captain, Commander Boyle, was senior to Commander Nasmith of "E 11") says:--

"August 7th ... at 1.30 P.M.: I saw more dust coming down the road. Rose to the surface, and opened fire on troops marching towards Gallipoli. "E 11" was firing at the time I came up. I had stationed her to the north-east of Dohan Aslan Bank, and she first sh.e.l.led the troops on a part of the road showing there, and then came down to my billet, where we both sh.e.l.led them for the best part of an hour. I got off forty rounds, and about six of them burst in the middle of the troops. I had to put full range on the sights and aim at the top of the hill, so my shooting was not very accurate. "E 11" having a 12-pdr., did much more damage, and scattered the troops several times. Soon after 2 P.M. they started firing on us from the sh.o.r.e and out-ranging us."

"E 11" on August 18th:--

"7 A.M.: Rose to surface near Dohan Asian Buoy to bombard troops, but they scattered before fire was opened.

"8.30 A.M.: Rose to surface and opened fire on large convoy on road, several sh.e.l.ls falling among them before they managed to scatter.

"9 A.M.: Observed fire springing up where our shots had fallen.

This rapidly increased in size, until in the afternoon and evening it had a.s.sumed very large proportions."

A U-boat was captured by cavalry in 1918, but that case was perhaps exceptional. In the Napoleonic wars it was customary for English frigates to fire at French troops marching along the coast-roads of Spain, so that the E boats in the Marmora were only repeating history, but they certainly showed that the new weapon was a most disconcerting one for troops to have to reply to.

I do not intend to fill pages with unexplained despatches, but the following extracts explain themselves, and, in any case, are too good to be omitted from any submarine history.