THE FIRST ATTEMPT
At last all was ready for the great attack. The crew had all been put into khaki, every fitting had been cleared out of the monitors; they had slipped off in the dark the night before and were anchored when, at 3:30 in the morning, all was ready. I will now let a participant continue the story:
“I woke up hearing the chatter of the seedy boys and the voice of the quartermaster telling someone it was 3:20. I hurried along to my cabin and was dressed in three minutes; khaki shirt, trousers, shoes, and socks. A servant brought me a cup of cocoa and some biscuits, and I then gathered the waterbottle and a haversack of sandwiches, biscuits, brandy flask, glass phial of morphia, box of matches, cigarettes, and made my way up to the top.
“It was quite dark in spite of the half moon partly hidden by clouds, and men wandering about the docks putting the last touches. It was impossible to recognize any one as all were in khaki and cap and helmet. By 3:45 all were at general quarters and at —— we weighed and proceeded. Both motor-boats were towing, one on either side amidships. Two whalers anchored off Komo Island, and burning a single light each, acted as a guide to the mouth. We soon began to see the dim outline of the shore on the right hand, and —— declared he could distinguish the mouth. There were four of us in the top. We arranged ourselves conveniently, —— and —— taking a side each to look out. The Gunnery Lieutenant took the fore 6-inch and starboard battery. I had the after 6-inch and port battery. I dozed at first for about ten minutes, but as the island neared woke up completely. We had no idea what sort of reception we should have, and speculated about it. It was quite cold looking over the top. The land came nearer and nearer. We were going slow, sounding all the way. On the starboard side it was quite visible as the light grew stronger and stronger. Suddenly when we were well inside the right bank we heard a shot fired on the starboard quarter, but could not see the flash. Then came another, but only at the third did we see where it came from. It was a field-gun on the right, but we had already passed it, and both it and the pom-pom were turned on the Mersey astern of us.
“At least nothing fell near us. It was still not light enough for us to judge the range, but as the alarm had been given we opened fire with the 3-pounders, starboard side, at the fieldgun. As we came up to the point on the port side I trained all the port battery on the foremost bearing, and opened fire as soon as the guns would bear. We were now going pretty well full speed. Some snipers were hidden in the trees and rushes, and let us have it as we went past. The report of their rifles sounded quite different from ours, but we were abreast before they started, and were soon past. It was just getting light. We were inside the river before the sun rose, and went quite fast up. It was just about dead low water as we entered, neap tide. The river was about 700 yards broad. The banks were well defined by the green trees, mangroves probably, which grew right down to the edges. The land beyond was quite flat on the left, but about four miles to the right rose to quite a good height—Pemba Hills. Here and there were native huts well back from the river; we could see them from the top though they were invisible from the deck. On either side as we passed up were creeks of all sorts and sizes at low tides, more of them on the port side than on the starboard. As we passed, or rather before, we turned the port or starboard batteries on them and swept either side. The gun-layers had orders to fire at anything that moved or looked suspicious. We controlled them more or less, and gave them the bearings of the creeks. —— was in charge of those on deck, and the crews themselves fired or ceased fire if they saw anything or had sunk anything. We checked them from time to time as the next creek opened up. We were looking ahead most of the time, but I believe (from ——) we sank three dhows and a boat. Whether they were harmless or not, I don’t know, but it had to be done as a precaution. We made a fine noise, the sharp report of the five 3-pounders and one 4.7 and the crackle of the machine guns (four a side) must have been heard for miles. The Hyacinth, the tugs, the Trent, the Weymouth, and other odd craft were demonstrating at the other mouths of the Rufigi, and we could hear the deep boom of their 6-inch now and then. I believe, too, that there was a demonstration by colliers, etc., off Dar-es-Salaam at the same time.
“I had thought that the entry would be the worst part, but it was not much. A few bullets got us and marked the plates or went through the hammocks but no one was hit, and as our noise completely drowned the report of their rifles I doubt if many knew we were being sniped. The forecastle hands knew all about it later on. As they hauled in the anchor or let it go they nipped behind any shelter there was, and could hear the bullets zip-zip into the sandbags. The Mersey astern was blazing away into the banks just as we were. There was probably nothing in most of the creeks—but we did not know it then.
“It was 6:30 o’clock by the time we reached ‘our’ island, where the river branches into three, at the end of which we were to anchor. We were steering straight up the middle of the stream, and then swung slowly round to port, dropped the stern anchor, let out seventy fathoms of wire, dropped the main anchor, went astern, and then tightened in both cables, so that we were anchored fast bow and stern. As soon as we steadied down a bearing was taken on the chart and the gun laid—about eight minutes’ work. It was then found that, thanks to the curious run of the current, the fore 6-inch would not bear, and we had to take up the bow anchor and let it go again to get us squarer towards the Koenigsberg.
“We could see the aeroplane right high up, and received the signal ‘open fire.’ We were not quite ready, however. From the moment when we turned to port to take up our firing position to the time we were finally ready and had laid both guns, occupied about twenty minutes. The Koenigsberg started firing at us five minutes before we were ready to start. Their first shot (from one gun only) fell on the island, the next was on the edge of it, and very soon she was straddling us. Where they were spotting from I don’t know, but they must have been in a good position, and their spotting was excellent. They never lost our range. The firing started, and for the next two hours both sides were hard at it. I don’t believe any ship has been in a hotter place without being hit. Their shooting was extraordinarily good. Their salvoes of fire at first dropped 100 short, 50 over, 20 to the right—then straddled us—then just short—then all round us, and so on. We might have been hit fifty times—they could not have fired better; but we were not hit at all, though a piece of shell was picked up on the forecastle.
“The river was now a curious sight, as dead fish were coming to the surface everywhere. It was the Koenigsberg’s shells bursting in the water which did the damage, and there were masses of them everywhere—mostly small ones.
“We were firing all the time, of course. I attended to the W/T, and passed the messages to the Gunnery Lieutenant, who made the corrections and passed them to the guns. —— watched the aeroplane and the banks as far as possible. —— attended to the conning tower voice pipe. We got H. T. fairly soon, and the Koenigsberg’s salvoes were now only four guns. We heard the boom; then before it had finished came whizz-z-z-z or plop, plop, plop, plop, as the shells went just short or over. They were firing much more rapidly than we, and I should think more accurately, but if I had been in the Koenigsberg I should, probably, have thought the opposite! All this time the 3-pounders had occasional outbursts as they saw, or thought they saw, something moving. Occasionally, too, the smoke and fumes from our funnel drifted across the top, and it was unpleasant for a minute or two. We could see now where the Koenigsberg was, and the smoke from her funnels, or that our shells made. She was firing salvoes of four with great rapidity and regularity, about three times a minute, and every one of them close. Some made a splash in the water so near that you could have reached the place with a boat-hook.
“At 7:40 (so I am told, as, though I tried I lost all count of time) a shell hit the fore 6-inch of the Mersey and a column of flame shot up. Four were killed and four wounded. Part of the shield was blown away. Only one man remained standing, and after swaying about he fell dead. One had his head completely blown off. Another was lying with his arm torn out at the shoulder, and his body covered with yellow flames from a lyddite charge which caught. The R. N. R. Lieutenant in charge was knocked senseless and covered with blood, but had only a scratch on the wrist to show for it. The gun-layer had an extraordinary escape, and only lost three fingers. Two men escaped as they had just gone forward to weigh the anchor. A burning charge fell into the shell room below, but was fortunately got out. Another shell burst in the motor-boat alongside the Mersey and sank it. One burst in the water about a foot from the side, and we thought she was holed. The Mersey captain then wisely moved and went down river, taking up a position of 1,000 yards down, by the right bank (looking at the Koenigsberg). She started in again with her after gun, the other being disabled. For an hour and twenty minutes we went on, and the Koenigsberg’s salvoes came steadily and regularly back, as close as ever. It seemed as if it could not go on much longer. We registered four hits, and the salvoes were reduced from four to three, and later to two, and then to one gun. Whether we had reduced them to silence or whether the Koenigsberg’s crew left them and saved ammunition it is impossible to say.
“The aeroplane spotting had been fair, but now someone else started in and made the signals unintelligible. Then we got spotting corrections from two sources—both differing widely. Finally, the aeroplane made “W. O.” (going home). We weighed and took up station again by the Mersey. She moved to get out of our way, and when another aeroplane came we started it again. The replies from the Koenigsberg were not so frequent, and nothing like so accurate. It was as if they could not spot the fall of shot. The aeroplane soon disappeared, and as we could see the mast of the Koenigsberg (I could only see one personally) and a column of smoke which varied in thickness from time to time, we tried to spot for ourselves. It was useless as, though we saw the burst (or thought we did) in line with the masts, we did not know whether they were over or short. Finally, we moved up the river nearer, still keeping on the right side, and set to work again.
“There were two cruisers—Weymouth and Pyramus, I think—at the mouth. The Weymouth did a good deal of firing at Pemba Hill and a native village close to us, where there might be spotters.
“When we reached W/T corrections now they were of no use. Most were ‘did not observe fall of shot,’ or 600 short. We went up 1,000, but still received the same signal—whether from the aeroplane or the Koenigsberg, I don’t know. It was most confusing. We crept up the scale to maximum elevation. Finally, we moved up the river again, but put our nose on the mud. We were soon off, and moved over to the other side and continued firing, spotting as well as we could (but getting nothing definite) till four o’clock, when we packed up and prepared to come out. We swept the banks again on both sides, but only at the entrance was there opposition. We made such a noise ourselves that we drowned the report of any shots fired at us. Two field-guns made good practice at us from the right bank (looking at the Koenigsberg). One came very close indeed to the top—so much so that we all turned to look at each other, thinking it must have touched somewhere. One burst about five yards over us. Another burst fifteen yards from the Mersey, and a second hit her sounding boom. We could see the white smoke of the discharge and fired lyddite, but the object was invisible.
“It was getting dusk as we got outside at full speed. The secure was sounded at about 4:45. We had been at general quarters for thirteen hours, and eleven of them had been under fire. Outside the other ships were waiting for us near Komo Island, and we went straight alongside the Trent. Each ship cheered us as we passed. The Mersey put her wounded on the Trent, and then pushed off to bury the dead.
“Tuesday, July 6, was the day of the first attempt, and one of the worst I ever had or am likely to have. We were at our stations from 3:45 A.M. till 4:45 P.M., and eleven hours of that were under fire. The engine-room people were not relieved the whole time, and they were down there the whole time in a temperature of 132°-135°! It was hot up in the top—but child’s play to the engine room.”