Q Ships and Their Story 25
This Q-ship had the misfortune to be attacked by a submarine who
used torpedoes to blow both the bow and stern off the Q-ship. The
“Candytuft” was afterwards beached on the North African coast.
To face p. 174]
Another incident, which well illustrates the risks run by these
Q-ships, is now to be related. Among those officers who had retired
from the Service and come back after the outbreak of war was Commander
W. O’G. Cochrane, R.N., who for part of the war was captain of one
of the sloops off the south of Ireland. In the spring of 1917 I well
remember the very excellent sport we had in company, but in separate
ships, exploring and destroying the mine-fields laid by the enemy
submarines right along the whole south coast from Cape Clear to the Old
Head of Kinsale. At the beginning of the following November, Commander
Cochrane left Devonport in command of the Q-ship _Candytuft_, together
with a convoy of merchant ships bound for Gibraltar. _Candytuft_ was
disguised to represent a tramp steamer, and on the eighth, when in
the vicinity of Cape St. Vincent, had an encounter with a submarine, in
which the usual tactics were employed. One of the enemy’s shells struck
the Q-ship’s bridge, exploding under the bunk in Captain Cochrane’s
cabin, wrecking the wireless and steering-gear. _Candytuft_ was able to
fire three shots, but the enemy disappeared, made off, and was never
seen by the Q-ship again.
After having been repaired at Gibraltar, _Candytuft_ left in company
with the merchant ship _Tremayne_ for Malta. This was on November
16. Two days later they were off Cap Sigli, when a torpedo crossed
_Tremayne’s_ bows, but struck _Candytuft_ on the starboard quarter,
entirely blowing off the ship’s stern and killing all the officers
excepting Captain Cochrane and Lieutenant Phillips, R.N.R., who was on
the bridge, but very badly wounding Lieutenant Errington, R.N.R.
With sound judgment and true unselfishness Captain Cochrane now ordered
_Tremayne_ to make for Bougie as fast as she could, and in the meantime
the Q-ship hoisted her foresail to assist the ship to drift inshore.
Most of the ship’s company were sent away in boats, only sufficient
being kept aboard to man the two 4-inch guns, and everyone kept out of
sight. Within half an hour a periscope was seen by Captain Cochrane,
concealed behind the bridge screens. A periscope is a poor target, but
it was fired at, though ineffectually. On came the torpedo, striking
_Candytuft_ just foreward of the bridge, completely wrecking the fore
part of the ship. This explosion wounded several men in a boat, covered
the bridge with coal barrows and other miscellaneous wreckage, blew a
leading-seaman overboard—happily he was picked up unhurt—blew Captain
Cochrane up also, but some of the falling wreckage struck him on the
head, knocked him back inboard, and left him staggering off the bridge.
Presently the ship gave a sudden jerk, and rid herself of her bow,
which now floated away and sank. _Candytuft_ drifted towards the
African shore, and after the captain and one of his crew had gallantly
closed the watertight door at the foreward end of the mess-deck, up to
their middles in water and working in almost complete darkness, with
tables and other articles washing about, it became time for these last
two to leave the ship. They were taken off by a French armed trawler
and landed at Bougie. _Candytuft_, minus bow and stern, drifted ashore
on to a sandy beach, and eventually the two 4-inch guns were salved.
Lieutenant Errington had died before reaching land, and the wounded
had to be left in hospital. But afterwards some of _Candytuft’s_ crew
went to sea in another Q-ship, and so the whole gallant story went on.
Ships may be torpedoed, but, like the soldiers, sailors never die. They
keep on ‘keeping on’ all the time, as a young seaman once was heard to
remark.
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “CANDYTUFT”
This shows some of the damage done by the enemy submarine’s torpedo.
She is lying beached and one of the guns is being salved and lowered
down the side.
To face p. 176]
CHAPTER XIII
MORE SAILING-SHIP FIGHTS
If, in accordance with the delightful legend, Drake during the
recent war had heard the beating of his drum and had ‘quit the port
o’ Heaven,’ come back to life again in the service of his Sovereign
and country, he would assuredly have gone to sea in command of a
Q-sailing-ship. His would have been the Victoria Cross and D.S.O. with
bars, and we can see him bringing his much battered ship into Plymouth
Sound as did his spiritual descendants in the Great War. And yet, with
all the halo of his name, it is impossible to imagine that, great
seaman as he was, his deeds would be more valiant than those we are now
recording.
If we had, so to speak, put the clock back by the re-introduction
of the fighting sailing ship, it was an anachronism that was well
justified by results. More of these craft and various rigs were still
being taken up. In the spring of 1917 the topsail schooner _Dargle_ was
requisitioned, fitted out at Granton with a 4-inch and two 12-pounders,
and then sent to Lerwick, whence she operated. Similarly the ketch
_George L. Muir_ (alias _G. L. Munro_, _G.L.M._, and _Padre_), which
was accustomed to trade between Kirkwall and the Firth of Forth, was
chartered and armed with a 12-pounder.
On April 22, 1917, the 174-ton auxiliary barquentine _Gaelic_
(otherwise known as _Brig 11_, _Gobo_, and Q 22), which had been taken
up at the end of 1916, and was armed with a couple of 12-pounders, had
a very plucky fight. She had left Falmouth on the nineteenth under
the command of Lieutenant G. Irvine, R.N.R., and at 6.30 p.m. was now
48 miles south of the Old Head of Kinsale, steering S.E. under all
fore-and-aft sail. It was a fine, clear day, the sea was calm, there
was little wind, but the ship was making about 2 knots under sail and
starboard motor. It was a quiet Sunday evening: one of those gentle
spring days which came gladly to the Irish coast after the long nights
and continuous gales of the dark winter. The watch, consisting of four
men, were all aloft getting in the square sails, when one of them
hailed the deck that he could see a submarine about four points on the
starboard bow. She was distant about 5,000 yards to the southward and
steering to the N.W. at slow speed.
Hands were called down from aloft immediately, and action stations
sounded on the alarm gong. The enemy began the tactics of keeping
well away from the ship and firing shell after shell, of which six
hit the _Gaelic_, killing two of the deckhands and wounding four,
besides putting the port motor out of action and seriously damaging the
rigging. For a time both vessels maintained their respective courses,
and when the enemy was bearing a couple of points abaft _Gaelic’s_
starboard beam, the sailing ship unmasked her guns and opened fire. It
was now 6.50; the enemy had already fired twenty rounds, but as soon
as the attack was returned he altered course and despatched a torpedo
at 4,000 yards. This luckily _Gaelic_ was able to avoid in time by
starboarding her helm so that the torpedo missed by about 150 yards,
passing parallel along the starboard side. _Gaelic’s_ forward gun had
now fired three shots, but her fourth hit the submarine. By a piece
of bad luck, soon after this, the firing pin of the port forward gun
broke and the gun was temporarily out of action, so _Gaelic_ had to
be brought round until the starboard guns would bear. Thus the fight
went on until 7.20 p.m., when the enemy came round under port helm
and started to move slowly away to the S.W., still firing. Another
trouble now occurred in the barquentine. One of the shells had caused
the fresh-water tank on deck to leak. This water then came through a
hole in the deck on to the starboard engine, putting it out of action,
and so with both engines useless and no wind the unfortunate _Gaelic_
could not be manœuvred, though the guns continued to bear. Firing was
maintained and two more hits were scored on the German target. About
eight o’clock the submarine ceased fire, ported his helm, headed
towards the barquentine, and ten minutes later, the range being still
4,000 yards, _Gaelic_ hit him again. This was the end of the action,
each craft having fired about 110 rounds. It seems pretty certain
that though the submarine was not sunk she was badly knocked about,
for she broke off the engagement and dived. A hand was sent aloft who
reported that he could distinctly see the submarine below making to the
south-east. _Gaelic_ did her best to follow, but by this time darkness
was rapidly setting in, so with both motors useless, sails and rigging
also in a dreadful condition, she set a course for the Old Head of
Kinsale, and at daybreak, when 10 miles short of that landfall, was
picked up by H.M. sloop _Bluebell_ and towed into Queenstown. She was
then refitted and eventually went out to the Mediterranean, being based
on Gibraltar.
Allusion has been made in another chapter to the auxiliary schooner
_Glen_ (alias _Sidney_ and _Athos_), which began her special service
on April 5, 1917, under Lieutenant R. J. Turnbull, R.N.R. On May 17
she had a most successful duel, in which she managed to sink the small
UB 39, one of those submarines about 121 feet long, and possessing
extreme surface speed of 8-1/2 knots, which, armed with one gun and
four torpedoes, used to come out from Zeebrugge, negotiate the Dover
Straits—for which she was fitted with a net-cutter at the bows—and
then operate in the English Channel. The enemy’s gun was a 22-pounder;
_Glen_ carried a 12-pounder and a 3-pounder. It was six o’clock in the
evening, and _Glen_ was about 35 miles south of the Needles, steering
north-east, close hauled on the starboard tack, the wind being E. by
S., force 4. There was a moderate sea on, and the ship was bowling
along under all sail. Suddenly out of nowhere a shot was heard, and
five minutes later could be seen the flash of a second, and UB 39 was
sighted to the southward, 2-1/2 miles away. _Glen_ therefore backed
her fore-yard, and eased away all sheets, so as to check her way. The
submarine then ceased firing, but her captain must have been one of
those less experienced men, who were characteristic of the later stages
of the war, and did foolish things; for he was indiscreet enough in
this case to close schooner, who then ‘abandoned ship.’ On came the
German and submerged when 800 yards off until only her periscope and
part of her bridge dodger were showing. Still she approached until now
she was only 200 yards distant, steering a course parallel with the
schooner on the latter’s starboard side. All this happened so quickly
that the ‘panic party’ were just leaving the ship, when UB 39 rose to
the surface just abaft the schooner’s beam, and now only 80 yards off.
For such temerity the German, who must have been amazingly credulous,
paid with his life. Lieutenant Turnbull gave the order for ‘action,’
and within five seconds the first shot from the 12-pounder was fired,
which fell over the submarine abaft the conning-tower. The enemy was
evidently quite surprised, for the hatch in the conning-tower was now
opened, and there appeared the head and shoulders of a man who seemed
dazed, and as the second 12-pounder shell came bursting on the hull
under the conning-tower this man apparently fell back down the hatch.
The submarine now commenced to dive, and as the stern rose out of the
water the third and fourth shots from the same gun burst on the after
part of the hull in the middle line, the holes made by these three
shots being plainly visible to those in the schooner. The 3-pounder had
also come into action, and out of six rounds the second shot had hit
the hull on the water-line forward of the conning-tower, the third had
hit her on the water-line under the gun, the fourth and fifth bursting
on the after part of the hull just as she was sinking, and the sixth
bursting on the water as her stern disappeared. Badly holed, leaking
from all these holes, UB 39 listed over to port towards the schooner,
vanished from sight for evermore, and then a large quantity of oil and
bubbles came to the surface. There were no survivors.
Having definitely disposed of the enemy, it would be reasonable for
the crew of the _Glen_ to feel elated; but just as UB 39 was finally
disappearing, another submarine was seen approaching about 4,000 yards
off on the starboard bow. _Glen_ opened fire and the enemy submerged,
only to reappear about 600 yards away on the port bow. _Glen_ fired
once more, and next time the submarine appeared a few minutes later on
the port quarter 1,000 yards off. This was happening while the ‘panic
party’ were being got on board again, and thus there was every risk of
being torpedoed; but _Glen_ then proceeded on a northerly course under
sail and motor, and at 7.30 p.m. a very large submarine was observed 2
miles away on the starboard beam, heading in about the same direction.
After ten minutes this submarine opened fire, then turned to pass
astern, and continued firing with both her guns, which _Glen_ answered
with both of hers. About 8 p.m. the duel ceased; the enemy disappeared
to the west on the look-out evidently for a less obstinate ship. If
you examine the positions on the chart you will realize that the enemy
submarines were evidently concentrated in mid-Channel in order to
entrap shipping coming up and down and across the English Channel. They
were so placed as to cut the lines of communication to Cherbourg and at
the same time have a good chance of bagging some liner bound up along.
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