Q Ships and Their Story 35

Q Ships and Their Story 35

This was about as much as the stunned submarine could stand, and

forging ahead she suddenly submerged and sank stern first, but a few

seconds later she rose to the surface with a heavy list to starboard,

and then sank for good and all. For, on submerging, she had found

she was leaking so badly that her condition was hopeless, and she

was doubtless intending to surrender, but apparently the fourth shot

from _Stonecrop_ had so damaged the conning-tower hatch that it could

not be opened. Thus there perished U 88, but this was more than the

sinking of an ordinary submarine, for with her there went to his doom

Lieut.-Commander Schwieger, who, when in command of U 20, had sunk

the _Lusitania_ on May 7, 1915, with the loss of over eleven hundred

men, women, and children. Altogether _Stonecrop’s_ action had been very

neat. He had lured the enemy into a short range, utterly fooled him,

and then disabled him before he woke up. For this service Commander

Blackwood received the D.S.O., and three R.N.R. lieutenants and a naval

warrant officer each received a D.S.C. But Q-ship life was always full

of uncertainties, for on the very next day _Stonecrop_ was herself

torpedoed by another submarine at 1 p.m., though fortunately this

was in a position a little nearer the coast. Two officers and twenty

survivors were picked up by a motor-launch of the Auxiliary Patrol

and landed at Berehaven; sixty-four men in one boat and a raft were

remaining behind, but all available craft were sent out to rescue them.

 

The employment of small coasting steamers was, during the last phase

of the war, more and more developed. What the Q-ship captain liked was

that the enemy should attack him not with torpedoes but with gunfire.

Now, even the biggest German submarines carried usually not more than

ten torpedoes, and inasmuch as his cruise away from any base lasted

weeks, and, in the case of the _Deutschland_ class, even months, it

was obvious that the U-boat had to conserve his torpedoes for those

occasions which were really worth while. From this it follows that

a submarine captain who knew his work, and was anxious to make a

fine haul before ending his cruise, would not, as a rule, waste his

torpedoes on a 500-ton steamer when he might have secured much bigger

tonnage by using the same missile against a 20,000-ton liner.

 

This suggested an avenue of thought, and as early as January, 1918,

the matter was considered by Admiral Bayly and developed. Already

there were in existence several small vessels acting as Q-ships,

but simultaneously carrying out in all respects the duties of

cargo-carriers from port to port, and thus paying their way. It was

now decided to look for a little steamer which, based on Queenstown,

would work between the Bristol Channel, Irish Sea, and the south coast

of Ireland, where even during the height of the submarine campaign it

was customary to see such craft. As a result of this decision Captain

Gordon Campbell was sent to inspect the S.S. _Wexford Coast_, which

was being repaired at Liverpool. Her gross tonnage was only 423,

she had a well deck, three masts, and engines placed aft: just the

ordinary-looking, innocent steamer that would hardly attract a torpedo.

Owned by Messrs. Powell, Bacon, Hough, and Co., of Liverpool, this

vessel had already done valuable work in the war; for in 1915 she had

been requisitioned for store-carrying in the Dardanelles, where she was

found invaluable in keeping the troops supplied, and when that campaign

came to an end assisted at the evacuation. Returning to England, she

was again sent out as a store-carrier, this time to the White Sea.

_Wexford Coast_ was now taken up as a Q-ship, her fitting-out being

supervised by Lieut.-Commander L. S. Boggs, R.N.R., who had been in

command of the Q-ship _Tamarisk_, and from the last ship came a large

part of her new crew. She was duly armed, and fitted with a cleverly

concealed wireless aerial, to be used only in case of emergency, and

was then commissioned on March 13, 1918, as ‘Store-Carrier No. 80,’

this title being for the purpose of preserving secrecy. She put to sea

in her dual capacity, but on August 31 had the misfortune to be run

into by the French S.S. _Bidart_, six miles south-east of the Start, at

four o’clock in the morning—another instance of this fatal hour for

collisions. The Frenchman grounded on the Skerries and capsized, and

the _Wexford Coast_ had to put in to Devonport. After the sinking of

the Q-ship _Stockforce_ (to be related presently), Admiral Bayly wished

the captain and crew of the latter to be appointed to a coaster similar

to _Wexford Coast_, so the _Suffolk Coast_ was chosen at the beginning

of August whilst she was lying in the Firth of Forth. Before the end

of the month she had arrived at Queenstown, where she was fitted out.

On November 10 she set out from Queenstown, but on the following day

came the Armistice, which spoiled her ambitions. However, in this, the

latest of all Q-ships, we see the development so clearly that it will

not be out of place here to anticipate dates and give her description.

 

_Suffolk Coast_ was intentionally the most ordinary-looking little

coaster, with three masts, her engines and funnel being placed aft, and

the very last thing she resembled was a man-of-war. But she was heavily

armed for so small a ship. In her were embodied all the concentrated

experience of battle and engineering development. All that could be

learned from actual fighting, from narrow escapes, and from defects

manifested in awkward moments was here taken advantage of. Instead of

a 12-knot 4,000-ton steamer the development had, owing to the trend of

the campaign, been in the direction of a ship one-eighth of the size,

but more cleverly disguised with better ‘gadgets.’ In fact, instead of

being a model of simplicity as in the early days, the Q-ship had become

a veritable box of tricks. It was the triumph of mind over material, of

brain over battle. Coolness and bravery and resolute endurance were

just as requisite in the last as in the first stages of the campaign,

but the qualities of scientific bluff had attained the highest value.

The basic principle was extreme offensive power combined with outward

innocence: the artfulness of the eagle, but the appearance of a dove.

 

In _Suffolk Coast_ there was one long series of illusions from forward

to aft. On the fo’c’sle head was a quite usual wire reel such as is

used in this class of ship for winding in a wire rope. But this reel

had been hollowed out inside so as to allow the captain to con the

ship. Near by was also a periscope, but this was disguised by being

hidden in a stove-pipe such as would seem to connect with the crew’s

heating arrangements below. Now this was not merely a display of

ingenuity but an improvement based on many a hard case. What frequently

happened after the ‘abandon ship’ party pushed off? As we have seen,

this was often the time when the real fight began, and the enemy would

shell the bridge to make sure no living thing could remain. That

being so, the obvious position for the captain was to be away from

the bridge, though it broke away from all the traditions of the sea.

In _Suffolk Coast_ the enemy could continue sweeping the bridge, but

the captain would be under the shelter of the fo’c’sle head and yet

watching intently. Similarly both he and his men need not, in passing

from the bridge or one end of the ship to another, be exposed to the

enemy’s fire, for an ingenious tunnel was made right into the fo’c’sle

through the hold. In a similar manner, if the forward part of the ship

had been ‘done in,’ there was a periscope aft disguised as a pipe

coming up from the galley stove.

 

Now, when a submarine started shelling a Q-ship, the latter would

naturally heave-to and then pretend she had been disabled by being

hit in the engine-room. This was achieved by fitting a pipe specially

arranged to let steam issue forth. The importance of wireless in these

death-struggles may well be realized, so not merely was one wireless

cabinet placed below, but another was situated in the fo’c’sle. The

_Suffolk Coast_, with her two 4-inch and two 12-pounders, was armed

in a manner superior to any submarines excepting those of the biggest

classes such as voyaged south to the Canaries and north-west African

coast. This Q-ship’s guns were concealed in the most wonderfully

ingenious manner, so that it would have puzzled even a seaman to

discover their presence. Thus the forward 12-pounder was mounted in

No. 1 hold, the hatch being suitably arranged for collapsing. The

first 4-inch gun was placed further aft, covered by a deck, and the

sides made to fall down when the time came for action. The second

4-inch was mounted still further aft and similarly concealed, whilst

the other 12-pounder was allowed to be conspicuous at the stern so

that all U-craft might believe she was the usual defensively armed

merchant ship. Without this they might have become suspicious. In this

‘mystery ship’ everything was done to render her capable of remaining

afloat for the maximum of time after injury, and, in addition to having

a well-stowed cargo of timber, she had special watertight bulkheads

fitted. With a thorough system of voice-pipes, so that the captain

could keep a perfect control over the ship’s firing—a most essential

consideration, as the reader will already have ascertained—and a

crew of nearly fifty experienced officers and men, such a small

ship represented the apotheosis of the decoy just as the war was

terminating. Every sort of scheme which promised possibilities was

tried, and many clever minds had been at work, but this represented the

standard of success after four long years.

 

Every new aspect of the submarine advancement had to be thought out

and met, and the variations were most noticeable, but during the last

few months of the war considerable attention had to be concentrated on

the areas of the Azores, the north, south, east, and west of Ireland,

the Bristol Channel, and the approaches to the English Channel in the

west. But by the spring of 1918 the crews of German submarines had

become distinctly inferior. Their commanding officers were often young

and raw, there was a great dearth of trained engineer officers and

experienced petty officers, and this was shown in frequent engine-room

breakdowns. So many submarines had failed to return home, and others

reported such hairbreadth escapes, that the inferior crews became

nervous and were not sorry to be taken prisoners. The fact was that

not only were expert, highly skilled officers hard to find, but the

hands he was compelled to go to sea with were no longer chosen by the

captain; he had to accept whatever recruits were drafted to his craft.

Of the best _personnel_ that remained many had lost their nerve and

had a very real dread of mines, depth charges, and decoy ships. The

institution of our convoy system and of Q-ships as part of the convoy

did not add to the pleasures of the U-boat officers. It is true that

the often excellent shooting of the submarines was due to the fact

that their gun-layers were generally selected from the High Sea Fleet,

but as against this many of our Q-ship expert gunners were out of the

Grand Fleet. It is true that the cruiser submarines with their two

5·9-inch guns, plus torpedoes, were formidable foes even

for the most heavily armed decoy, but as against this they took a long

time to dive, and thus represented a better target.

 

If we consider these facts in regard to the later tactics of the

submarines in contest with our decoy ships, there is much that becomes

clear. The excellence of our intelligence system has been shown by

various British and German writers since the war, and, as a rule, we