Q Ships and Their Story 8

Q Ships and Their Story 8

Adventures are to the adventurous. In less than a month from this

event _Farnborough_ was again engaged with a submarine, under

circumstances more difficult than the last. One who was present at

the engagement described it to me, and though the submarine managed

afterwards to reach Germany, she was wounded, and only just escaped

total destruction. However, this in no way detracts from the merits of

the story, which is as follows: The scene was similar to that of the

previous incident, the exact position being Lat. 51.57 N., Long. 11.2

W.—that is to say, off the west coast of Ireland. The time was 6.30

in the afternoon of April 15, 1916, and _Farnborough_ was proceeding

northward, doing 5 knots, for Commander Campbell was hoping to

intercept a German submarine which had been reported off the Orkneys on

the 13th, and was probably coming down the west Irish coast.

 

At the time mentioned the sea was calm and it was misty, but about two

miles off on the starboard quarter could be seen a steamer. Suddenly,

without warning, between the two ships a submarine broke surface,

but Commander Campbell pretended to ignore her until she hoisted the

international signal TAF (‘Bring your papers on board’). Owing to

the mist it was impossible to distinguish the flags clearly enough

to read them. However, Commander Campbell stopped his ship like a

terrified tramp, blew off steam, but quietly kept her jogging ahead

so as to edge towards the enemy and avoid falling into the trough of

the heavy Atlantic swell. There was the submarine lying full length

on the surface, about 300 feet long, with a very large conning-tower

amidships, one gun forward, one aft, and most of the hull painted a

light grey. In reply to the German’s signal _Farnborough_ now kept

her answering pennant at the dip and hoisted ‘Cannot understand your

signal.’ All this delay was valuable to the Q-ship, for it allowed her

to close the range stealthily; and now the submarine also came closer,

with her foremost gun already manned. In the meantime, the ‘tramp’ did

what she was expected to do—hoisted the signal ‘I am sending boat with

ship’s papers,’ and at the same time the bridge boat was turned out

(again in command of Sub-Lieutenant J. S. Smith, R.N.R.), and Commander

Campbell was seen to hand his papers to this officer to take over to

the submarine. It was now 6.40 p.m., and the German fired a shot which

passed over the ship, doing no direct harm, but incidentally spoiling

the whole affair. The best laid schemes of Q-ship captains, and the

most efficient crews, occasionally go astray. One of _Farnborough’s_

people, hearing this gun, thought that _Farnborough_ had opened fire,

so accordingly fired also. It was unfortunate, but there it was. This

mistake forced Commander Campbell’s hand; he at once hoisted the White

Ensign and gave the general order to fire. The range was now about

1,000 yards, and he proceeded at full speed so as to bring his after

gun to bear, the ships becoming about in this position:

 

[Illustration: FIG. 5.—DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE APPROXIMATE POSITIONS OF

‘FARNBOROUGH’ AND SUBMARINE IN THE ACTION OF APRIL 15, 1916.]

 

The enemy had been about a point before the _Farnborough’s_ starboard

beam, but when the action commenced the former had been brought

successfully on the beam. The Q-ship’s 12-pounders quickly got off a

score of rounds, accompanied by the 6-pounder and the Maxim and rifles.

Quite early the enemy became damaged, and eventually she submerged

under the screen of smoke, a remarkably near escape which must have

made a great impression on her crew. After dropping depth charges,

_Farnborough_ closed the strange steamer which had been stopped about

500 yards off, and found her to be the Dutch S.S. _Soerakarta_. With

true seamanlike chivalry the Dutch captain, pitying the shabby-looking

tramp steamship, actually offered Commander Campbell assistance.

This neutral was bound from the Dutch East Indies to Rotterdam, via

Falmouth and Kirkwall, and on sighting him the submarine had hoisted

the usual ‘Bring your papers on board.’ The Dutchman had just lowered

his boat, and was about to row off to the German, when up came the

unkempt collier _Farnborough_ with a white band on her funnel, and

then, to the amazement of all beholders, from her blazed shell after

shell. It was a splendid free show, and one shell was distinctly seen

to hit the conning-tower. Two miles away from the scene was the armed

trawler _Ina Williams_ on patrol, and as soon as she heard the firing

she went to action stations and came along at full speed. Ten minutes

later she felt a couple of shocks, so that her captain thought she had

struck something. These were, in fact, the concussions of the two depth

charges which _Farnborough_ had dropped.

 

If the submarine had escaped, at least he would be able to warn his

superiors at home that they could never tell the difference between a

‘trap-ship’ and a genuine merchantman, and it would be safer not to

attack steamers unless they were perfectly sure. During the rest of

that year Commander Campbell continued to cruise in _Farnborough_, but

the summer and autumn passed and no further luck offered itself.

 

Winter followed and was almost merging into spring, and then again this

ship made history. In another chapter this thrilling episode will be

told. In the meantime much else had happened.

 

One of the greatest enthusiasts of the Q-ship idea was Vice-Admiral

Sir Lewis Bayly, who was in command of the Irish coast. No Q-ship

officer serving under this admiral could ever complain that anything

was left undone by assistance that could have been performed by the

sagacity or advice of this Commander-in-Chief. It was he who made

repeated visits to the Q-ships as they lay in Haulbowline Dockyard,

in order to see that not the smallest important detail for efficiency

was lacking. The positions of the guns, the collapsing of the screens,

the erection of the dummy deckhouses concealing the guns, the comfort

of the personnel—nothing was too trivial for his attention provided

it aimed at the one end of sinking the enemy. As with ships, so with

officers. With his vast knowledge of human nature, and his glance

which penetrated into a man’s very soul, he could size up the right

type of volunteer for decoy work; then, having once selected him and

sent him to sea, he assisted him all the time whenever wireless was

advisable, and on their return to port encouraged, advised, and rested

the captains, while the Haulbowline Dockyard paid every attention to

improving the Q-ship’s fighting power. No keen, capable officer on

this station who did his job ever failed to get his reward; and the

result of all this, and the certain knowledge that if _in extremis_

a Queenstown naval ship would at once be sent to his rescue, created

such a fine spirit that an officer would almost sooner die than

return to port after making a blunder of an engagement. By reason of

this, the Queenstown Q-ships became famous for their high standard

and achievements. In the spring of 1916 the four experienced decoys

_Farnborough_, _Zylpha_, _Vala_, and _Penshurst_, were operating from

that port. They cruised off the south and south-west Irish coasts;

between Milford Haven and the Scillies; off the western approach to

the English Channel; up the Irish Sea as far as the north of Ireland.

In a few weeks four more decoys were added to that station, so that

there were eight of them by July. They cruised along the merchant ship

courses as far out into the Atlantic as 17° W., as far south as the

middle of the Bay of Biscay, as far east as the Isle of Wight, and as

far north as the Hebrides—in other words, just where U-boats were

likely to attack. One of these eight was the S.S. _Carrigan Head_,

which was commanded by Lieut.-Commander Godfrey Herbert, D.S.O., R.N.,

late in command of the _Antwerp_. _Carrigan Head_ was a fine ship of

4,201 tons, and, in order to make her practically unsinkable, she was

sent to Portsmouth, where she was filled with empty casks and timber.

As may be expected from her commander, this was a very efficient ship.

Below, the timber had been stowed in the holds with great cleverness

so that it would have been a considerable time before she could ever

founder. I well remember on one occasion wandering all over the decks

of this ship, but it was quite impossible to see where her big 4-inch

and two 12-pounders were located.

 

That being so, it was not surprising that a submarine never suspected

on September 9, 1916, that this was another ‘trap-ship.’ It was just

before 6.30 in the evening that this steamer was sixty miles south-west

of the Lizard, when a submarine was sighted about 2,000 yards off on

the starboard bow. The enemy had hoisted some flag signals, but they

were too small to be read. It was presumed that it was the usual order

to stop, so the steamer hove-to and the captain called up the stokers

who were off watch to stand by the lifeboats, for all this time the

submarine, who had two guns, was firing at the ship. Having lowered

the starboard lifeboat halfway down to the water, the Q-ship pretended

to try and escape, so went full speed ahead, turned to port, and

brought the enemy right astern. The German maintained a rapid fire,

many shots coming unpleasantly across the bridge, one entering the

forecastle and wounding two men, of whom one afterwards died. Another

shell entered the engineers’ messroom and slightly injured Temporary

Engineer Sub-Lieutenant James Purdy, R.N.R. This same shell also cut

the leads to the wireless room just above.

 

As several shells fell within a few feet of the ship, Commander Herbert

decided to feign surrender, hoisted the International Code pennant

close up, turned eight points to port, but with the real intention

of firing on the submarine, which had now risen to the surface with

complete buoyancy and presented a good target. But in turning to port,

_Carrigan Head_ was thus brought broadside on to the swell, so that

the ship began to roll heavily and helm had to be altered to get her

head on to the sea. At 6.50 p.m. the enemy was about 1,500 yards away,

and while both lifeboats were being lowered the submarine kept up an

intermittent fire. Three minutes later Commander Herbert decided to

reveal the character of his ship and attack; therefore, going full

speed ahead, he fired seven rounds, one of which seemed to hit. The

submarine was considerably surprised and at once dived, so having

arrived near the spot _Carrigan Head_ dropped depth charges. The enemy

was not sunk, but she did not reappear, such was her fright, until an

hour and a half later when she sank the Norwegian S. S. _Lodsen_ off

the Scillies. The enemy’s behaviour was typical: as soon as he was

attacked he broke off the engagement and took to flight by submerging,

and it was only on the rarest occasions that he was willing to fight,

as were the Q-ships, to a finish.

 

By reason of their service, Q-ship officers became a race apart. Their

arrival and departure were kept a profound secret, night-time or early

morning being usually selected. The ships were worked as separate

units, not as squadrons, and their cruising ground was always being

changed. They went to sea in strange garments, and when they came

ashore they usually wore ‘plain clothes,’ the naval equivalent for

the soldiers’ __EXPRESSION__ ‘mufti.’ At a time when all the nation was

in arms and for a healthy man to be seen out of uniform was to excite