CHAPTER XI
FIGHTING SUBMARINES FROM THE AIR
The Allied navies were harrowing the submarines not only under the water and on the surface, but from the air. In the anti-submarine campaign the several forms of aircraft—airplane, seaplane, dirigible, and kite balloon—developed great offensive power. Nor did the fact that our fighters in the heavens made few direct attacks which were successful diminish the importance of their work. The records of the British Admiralty attribute the destruction of five submarines to the British air service; the French Admiralty gives the American forces credit for destroying one on the French coast. These achievements, compared with the tremendous efforts involved in equipping air stations, may at first look like an inconsiderable return; yet the fact remains that aircraft were an important element in defeating the German campaign against merchant shipping.
Like the subchaser and the submarine, the seaplane operated most successfully in coastal waters. I have already indicated that one advantage of the convoy system was that it forced the U-boats to seek their victims closer to the shore. In our several forms of aircraft we had still another method of interfering with their operation in such quarters. In order to use these agencies effectively we constructed aircraft stations in large numbers along the coast of France and the British Isles, assigned a certain stretch of coastline to each one of these stations, and kept the indicated area constantly patrolled. The advantages which were possessed by a fleet of aircraft operating at a considerable height above the water are at once apparent. The great speed of seaplanes in itself transformed them into formidable foes. The submarine on the surface could make a maximum of only 16 knots an hour, whereas an airplane made anywhere from 60 to 100; it therefore had little difficulty, once it had sighted the under-water boat, in catching up with it and starting hostilities. Its great speed also made it possible for an airplane or dirigible to patrol a much greater area of water than a surface or a subsurface vessel. An observer located several hundred feet in the heavens could see the submarine much more easily than could his comrades on other craft. If the water were clear he could at once detect it, even though it were submerged; in any event, merely lifting a man in the air greatly extended his horizon, and made it possible for him to pick up hostile vessels at a much greater distance. Moreover, the airplane had that same advantage upon which I have laid such emphasis in describing the anti-submarine powers of the submarine itself: that is, it was almost invisible to its under-water foe. If the U-boat were lying on the surface, a seaplane or a dirigible was readily seen; but if it were submerged entirely, or even sailing at periscope depth, the most conspicuous enemy in the heavens was invisible. After our submarines and our aircraft had settled down to their business of extermination, existence for those Germans who were operating in coastal waters became extremely hazardous and nerve-racking; their chief anxiety was no longer the depth bomb of a destroyer; they lived every moment in the face of hidden terrors; they never knew when a torpedo would explode into their vitals, or when an unseen bomb, dropped from the heavens, would fall upon their fragile decks.
I have said that the destructive achievements of aircraft figure only moderately in the statistics of the war; this was because the greater part of their most valuable work was done in co-operation with war vessels. Aircraft in the Navy performed a service not unlike that which it performed in the Army. We are all familiar with the picture of airplanes sailing over the field of battle, obtaining information which was wirelessed back to their own forces, "spotting" artillery positions, and giving ranges. The seaplanes and dirigibles of the Allied navies performed a similar service on the ocean. To a considerable extent they became the "eyes" of the destroyers and other surface craft, just as the airplanes on the land became the "eyes" of the army. As part of their equipment all the dirigibles had wireless telegraph and wireless telephone; as soon as a submarine was "spotted," the news was immediately flashed broadcast, and every offensive warship which was anywhere in the neighbourhood, as well as the airplane itself, started for the indicated scene. There are several cases in which the sinking of submarines by destroyers was attributed to information wirelessed in this fashion by American aircraft; and since the air service of the British navy was many times greater than our own, there are many more such "indirect sinkings" credited to the British effort.
The following citation, which I submitted to the Navy Department in recommending Lieutenant John J. Schieffelin for the Distinguished Service Medal, illustrates this co-operation between air and surface craft:
This officer performed many hazardous reconnaissance flights, and on July 9th, 1918, he attacked an enemy submarine with bombs and then directed the British destroyers to the spot, which were successful in seriously damaging the submarine. Again, on July 19th, 1918, Lieutenant Schieffelin dropped bombs on another enemy submarine, and then signalled trawlers to the spot, which delivered a determined attack against the submarine, which attack was considered highly successful and the submarine seriously damaged, if not destroyed. This officer was at all times an example of courageous loyalty.
Besides scouting and "spotting" and bombing, the aerial hunters of the submarine developed great value in escorting convoys. A few dirigibles, located on the flanks of a convoy, protected them almost as effectively as the destroyers themselves; and even a single airship not infrequently brought a group of merchantmen and troopships safely into port. Sometimes the airships operated in this way as auxiliaries to destroyers, while sometimes they operated alone. In applying this mechanism of protection to merchant convoys, we were simply adopting the method which Great Britain had been using for three years in the narrow passages of the English Channel. Much has been said of the skill with which the British navy transported about 20,000,000 souls back and forth between England and France in four years; and in this great movement seaplanes, dirigibles, and other forms of aircraft played an important part. In the same way this scheme of protection was found valuable with the coastal convoys, particularly with the convoys which sailed from one French port to another, and from British ports to places in Ireland, Holland, or Scandinavia. I have described the dangers in which these ships were involved owing to the fact that the groups were obliged to break up after entering the Channel and the Irish Sea, and thus to proceed singly to their destinations. Aircraft improved this situation to a considerable extent, for they could often go to sea, pick up the ships, and bring them safely home. The circumstance that our seaplanes, perched high in the air, could see the submarine long before they had reached torpedoing distance, and could, if necessary, signal to a destroyer for assistance, made them exceedingly valuable for this kind of work.
Early in 1918, at the request of the British Government, we took over a large seaplane base which had been established by the British at Killingholme, England, a little sea-coast town at the mouth of the Humber River. According to the original plan we intended to co-operate from this point with the British in a joint expedition against enemy naval bases, employing for this purpose especially constructed towing lighters, upon which seaplanes were to be towed by destroyers to within a short flying distance of their objectives. Although this project was never carried out, Killingholme, because of its geographical location, became a very important base for seaplanes used in escorting mercantile convoys to and from Scandinavian ports, patrolling mine-fields while on the lookout for enemy submarines and making those all-important reconnaissance flights over the North Sea which were intended to give advanced warning of any activity of the German High Seas Fleet. These flights lasted usually from six to eight hours; the record was made by Ensigns S. C. Kennedy and C. H. Weatherhead, U.S.N., who flew for nine hours continuously on convoy escort duty. For a routine patrol, this compares very favourably indeed with the flight of the now famous trans-Atlantic NC-4.
I can no better describe the splendid work of these enthusiastic and courageous young Americans than by quoting a few extracts from a report which was submitted to me by Ensign K. B. Keyes, of a reconnaissance flight in which he took part, while attached temporarily to a British seaplane station under post-graduate instruction. The picture given by Ensign Keyes is typical of the flights which our boys were constantly making:
On June 4, 1918, we received orders to carry out a reconnaissance and hostile aircraft patrol over the North Sea and along the coast of Holland. It was a perfect day for such work, for the visibility was extremely good, with a light wind of fifteen knots and clouds at the high altitude of about eight or ten thousand feet.
Our three machines from Felixstowe rose from the water at twelve o'clock, circled into patrol formation, and proceeded north-east by north along the coast to Yarmouth. Here we were joined by two more planes, but not without some trouble and slight delay because of a broken petrol pipe which was subsequently repaired in the air. We again circled into formation, Capt. Leckie, D.S.O., of Yarmouth, taking his position as leader of the squadron.
At one o'clock the squadron proceeded east, our machine, being in the first division, flew at 1,500 feet and at about half a mile in the rear of Capt. Leckie's machine, but keeping him on our starboard quarter.
We sighted nothing at all until about half-past two, when the Haaks Light Vessel slowly rose on the horizon, but near this mark and considerably more to the south we discovered a large fleet of Dutch fishing smacks. This fleet consisted of more than a hundred smacks.
Ten minutes later we sighted the Dutch coast, where we changed our course more to the north-east. We followed the sandy beaches of the islands of Texel and Vlieland until we came to Terschelling. In following the coast of Vlieland we were close enough to distinguish houses on the inside of the island and even to make out breakers rolling up on the sandy beach.
At Terschelling we proceeded west in accordance with our orders, but soon had to turn back because of Capt. Leckie's machine which had fallen out of formation and come to the water. This machine landed at three fifteen and we continued to circle around it, finding that the trouble was with a badly broken petrol pipe, until about fifteen minutes later, when we sighted five German planes steering west, a direction which would soon bring them upon us.
At this time Capt. Barker had the wheel, Lt. Galvayne was seated beside him, but if we met the opposing forces he was to kneel on the seat with his eyes above the cowl, where he could see all the enemy planes and direct the pilot in which direction to proceed. I was in the front cockpit with one gun and four hundred rounds of ammunition. In the stern cockpit the engineer and wireless ratings were to handle three guns.
We at once took battle formation and went forward to meet the enemy, but here we were considerably surprised to find that when we were nearly within range they had turned and were running away from us. At once we gave chase, but soon found that they were much too fast for us. Our machine had broken out of the formation and, with nose down, had crept slightly ahead of Capt. Leckie, and we being the nearest machine to the enemy, I had the satisfaction of trying out my gun for a number of rounds. It was quite impossible to tell whether I had registered any hits or not.
Our purpose in chasing these planes was to keep them away from the machine on the water which, if we had not been there, would have been shot to pieces. Finding that it was useless to follow them, as they could easily keep out of our range, we turned back and very shortly we were again circling around our machine on the water.
It was not long before the enemy again came very close, so we gave chase the second time. This time, instead of five machines as before, there were only four, and one small scout could be seen flying in the direction of Borkum.
It was the fourth time that we went off in pursuit of the enemy that we suddenly discovered that a large number of hostile planes were proceeding towards us, not in the air with the other four planes but very close to the water. There were ten planes in this first group, but they were joined a few minutes later by five more.
We swung into battle formation and steered for the middle of the group. When we were nearly within range four planes on the port side and five planes on the starboard side rose to our level of fifteen hundred feet. Two planes passed directly beneath us firing upward. Firing was incessant from the beginning and the air seemed blue with tracer smoke. I gave most of my time to the four planes on our port side, because they were exactly on the same level with us and seemed to be within good range, that is about two hundred yards. When we had passed each other I looked around and noticed that Lt. Galvayne was in a stooping position, with head and one arm on his seat, the other arm hanging down as if reaching for something. I had seen him in this position earlier in the day so thought nothing of it. All this I had seen in the fraction of a second, for I had to continue firing. A few minutes later I turned around again and found with a shock that Lt. Galvayne was in the same position. It was then that the first inkling of the truth dawned upon me. By bending lower I discovered that his head was lying in a pool of blood.
From this time on I have no clear idea of just what our manœuvring was, but evidently we put up a running fight steering east, then circled until suddenly I found our machine had been cut off from the formation and we were surrounded by seven enemy seaplanes.
This time we were steering west or more to the south-west. We carried on a running fight for ten miles or so until we drove the seven planes off. During the last few minutes of the fight our engine had been popping altogether too frequently and soon the engineer came forward to tell us that the port engine petrol pipe had broken.
By this time I had laid out Lt. Galvayne in the wireless cockpit, cleaned up the second pilot's seat, and taken it myself.
The engagement had lasted about half an hour, and the closest range was one hundred yards while the average range was two hundred. The boat with Ensign Eaton in it landed between the Islands of Texel and Vlieland, while the other boat, which had not taken any part in the fight, was last seen two miles off Vlieland and still taxiing in toward the beach.
We descended to the water at five forty-five, ten miles north-west of Vlieland. During the ten minutes we were on the water I loosened Lt. Galvayne's clothing, made his position somewhat easier, and felt for his heart which at that time I was quite sure was beating feebly.
When we rose from the water and ascended to fifteen hundred feet, we sighted two planes which later proved to be the two Yarmouth boats. We picked them up, swung into formation, and laid our course for Yarmouth.
At ten minutes to seven we sighted land and twenty minutes after we were resting on the water in front of Yarmouth slipway.
We at once summoned medical aid but found that nothing could be done. The shot had gone through his head, striking the mouth and coming out behind his ear, tearing a gash of about two inches in diameter.
The boat had been more or less riddled, a number of shots tearing up the top between the front cockpit and the beginning of the cowl.
The total duration of the flight was seven hours and ten minutes.
American naval aviation had a romantic beginning; indeed, the development of our air service from almost nothing to a force which, in European waters, comprised 2,500 officers and 22,000 men, is one of the great accomplishments of the war. It was very largely the outcome of civilian enterprise and civilian public spirit. In describing our subchasers I have already paid tribute to the splendid qualities of reserve officers; and our indebtedness to this type of citizen was equally great in the aviation service. I can pay no further tribute to American youth than to say that the great aircraft force which was ultimately assembled in Europe had its beginnings in a small group of undergraduates at Yale University. In recommending Mr. Trubee Davison for a Distinguished Service Medal, the commander of our aviation forces wrote: "This officer was responsible for the organization of the first Yale aviation unit of twenty-nine aviators who were later enrolled in the Naval Reserve Flying Corps.... This group of aviators formed the nucleus of the first Naval Reserve Flying Corps, and, in fact, may be considered as the nucleus from which the United States Aviation Forces, Foreign Service, later grew." This group of college boys acted entirely on their own initiative. While the United States was still at peace, encouraged only by their own parents and a few friends, they took up the study of aviation. It was their conviction that the United States would certainly get into the war, and they selected this branch as the one in which they could render greatest service to their country. These young men worked all through the summer of 1916 at Port Washington, Long Island, learning how to fly: at this time they were an entirely unofficial body, paying their own expenses. Ultimately the unit comprised about twenty men; they kept constantly at work, even after college opened in the fall of 1916, and when war broke out they were prepared—for they had actually learned to fly. When the submarine scares disturbed the Atlantic seaboard in the early months of the war these Yale undergraduates were sent by the department scouting over Long Island Sound and other places looking for the imaginary Germans. In February, 1917, Secretary Daniels recognized their work by making Davison a member of the Committee on Aeronautics; in March practically every member of the unit was enrolled in the aviation service; and their names appear among the first one hundred aviators enrolled in the Navy—a list that ultimately included several thousand. So proficient had these undergraduates become that they were used as a nucleus to train our aircraft forces; they were impressed as instructors at Buffalo, Bayshore, Hampton Roads, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Key West and Moorhead City. They began to go abroad in the summer of 1917, and they were employed as instructors in schools in France and England. These young men not only rendered great material service, but they manifested an enthusiasm, an earnestness, and a tireless vigilance which exerted a wonderful influence in strengthening the moral of the whole aviation department. "I knew that whenever we had a member of the Yale unit," says Lieutenant-Commander Edwards, who was aide for aviation at the London headquarters in the latter part of the war, "everything was all right. Whenever the French and English asked us to send a couple of our crack men to reinforce a squadron, I would say, 'Let's get some of the Yale gang.' We never made a mistake when we did this."
There were many men in the regular navy to whom the nation is likewise indebted. Captain T. T. Craven served with very marked distinction as aide for aviation on the staff of Admiral Wilson, and afterward, after the armistice was signed, as the senior member of the Board which had been appointed to settle all claims with the French Government. Lieutenant (now Commander) Kenneth Whiting was another officer who rendered great service in aviation. Commander Whiting arrived in St. Nazaire, France, on the 5th of June, 1917, in command of the first aeronautic detachment, which consisted of 7 officers and 122 men.
Such were the modest beginnings of American aviation in France. In a short time Commander Whiting was assigned to the command of the large station which was taken over at Killingholme, England, and in October, 1917, Captain Hutch I. Cone came from the United States to take charge of the great aviation programme which had now been planned. Captain Cone had for many years enjoyed the reputation of being one of the Navy's most efficient administrators; while still a lieutenant-commander, he had held for a considerable time the rank of rear-admiral, as chief of the Bureau of Steam Engineering; and in 1917 he was commanding naval officer of the Panama Canal, a position which required organizing ability of the highest order. It was at my request that he was ordered abroad to organize our European air forces. Captain Cone now came to Paris and plunged into the work of organizing naval aviation with all his usual vigour.
It subsequently became apparent, however, that London would be a better place for his work than Paris, and Captain Cone therefore took up his headquarters in Grosvenor Gardens. Under his administration naval aviation foreign service grew to the proportions I have indicated and included in France six seaplane stations, three dirigible stations, two kite balloon stations, one school of aerial gunnery, one assembly and repair base, and the United States Naval Northern Bombing Group. In the British Isles there were established four seaplane stations and one kite balloon station in Ireland; one seaplane station and one assembly and repair base in England; and in Italy we occupied, at the request of the Italian Government, two seaplane stations at Pescara and Porto Corsini on the Adriatic. From these stations we bombed to good effect Austrian naval bases in that area. To Lieutenant-Commander J. L. Callan, U.S.N.R.F., is due much of the credit for the cordial relations which existed between the Italians and ourselves, as well as for the efficient conduct of our aviation forces in Italy under his command.
Probably the most completely equipped aviation centre which we constructed was that at Pauillac, France, under the command of Captain F. T. Evans, U.S.N.; here we built accommodation for 20,000 men; we had here what would have eventually been a great airplane factory; had the war continued six months longer, we would have been turning out planes in this place on a scale almost large enough to supply our needs. The far-sighted judgment and the really extraordinary professional ability of civil engineers D. G. Copeland and A. W. K. Billings made such work possible, but only, I might add, with the hearty co-operation of Lieutenant-Commander Benjamin Briscoe and his small band of loyal and devoted co-workers. Another great adventure was the establishment of our Northern Bombing Group, under the command of Captain David C. Hanrahan, U.S.N.; here we had 112 planes, 305 officers, and more than 2,000 enlisted personnel, who devoted all of their attention to bombing German submarine bases at Zeebrugge and Ostend. This enterprise was a joint one with the marines under the command of Major A. A. Cunningham, an experienced pilot and an able administrator, who performed all of his various duties not only to my entire satisfaction but in a manner which reflected the greatest credit to himself as well as to the Marine Corps of which he was a worthy representative. Due to the fact that the rapidity of our construction work had exceeded that with which airplanes were being built at home, we entered into an agreement with the Italian Government whereby we obtained a number of Caproni planes in exchange for raw materials. Several of these large bombing airplanes were successfully flown over the Alps to the fields of Flanders, under the direction of Lieutenant-Commander E. O. MacDonnell, who deserves the greatest credit for the energetic and resourceful manner in which he executed this difficult task.
In September, 1918, Captain Cone's duties took him to Ireland; the ship on which he sailed, the Leinster, was torpedoed in the Irish Sea; Captain Cone was picked up unconscious in the water, and, when taken to the hospital, it was discovered that both his legs were broken. It was therefore necessary to appoint another officer in his stead, and I selected Lieutenant W. A. Edwards, who had served with credit on the destroyer Cushing, and who, for some time, had been second in command to Captain Cone in the aviation section. It was almost unprecedented to put at the head of such an important branch a young lieutenant who had only been out of the naval academy for a few years; ordinarily the duties would have required a man of Admiral's rank. Lieutenant Edwards, however, was not only extremely capable, but he had the gift of getting along splendidly with our Allies, particularly the British, with whom our intercourse was necessarily extensive, and with whom he was very popular. He remained in charge of the department for the rest of the war, winning golden opinions from his superiors and his subordinates, and the Distinguished Service Order from King George.
The armistice was signed before our aviation work had got completely into running order. Yet its accomplishments were highly creditable; and had the war lasted a little longer they would have reached great proportions. Of the thirty-nine direct attacks made on submarines, ten were, in varying degrees, "successful." Perhaps the most amazing hit made by any seaplane in the war was that scored by Ensign Paul F. Ives; he dropped a bomb upon a submarine, striking it directly on its deck; the result was partly tragical, partly ludicrous, for the bomb proved to be a "dud" and did not explode! In commenting upon this and another creditable attack, the British Admiralty wrote as follows:
I beg to enclose for your information reports of attacks made on two enemy submarines on the 25th March by Pilot Ensign J. F. McNamara, U.S.N., and Pilot Ensign P. F. Ives, U.S.N.
The Admiralty are of opinion that the submarine attacked by Pilot Ensign McNamara was damaged and that the attack of Pilot Ensign Ives might also have been successful had not his bombs failed to explode, which was due to no fault of his own.
I should add that Wing Commander, Portsmouth Group has expressed his appreciation of the valuable assistance rendered by the United States Pilots.
At the cessation of hostilities we had a total of more than 500 planes of various descriptions actually in commission, a large number of which were in actual operation over the North Sea, the Irish Sea, the Bay of Biscay, and the Adriatic; our bombing planes were making frequent flights over enemy submarine bases, and 2,500 officers and 22,000 enlisted men were making raids, doing patrols, bombing submarines, bombing enemy bases, taking photographs, making reconnaissance over enemy waters, and engaging enemy aircraft. There can be no doubt but that this great force was a factor in persuading the enemy to acknowledge defeat when he did. A few simple comparisons will illustrate the gigantic task which confronted us and the difficulties which were successfully overcome in the establishment of our naval aviation force on foreign service. If all the buildings constructed and used for barracks for officers and men were joined end to end, they would stretch for a distance of twelve miles. The total cubic contents of all structures erected and used could be represented by a box 245 ft. wide, 300 ft. long, and 1,500 ft. high. In such a box more than ten Woolworth buildings could be easily placed. Twenty-nine telephone exchanges were installed, and in addition connections were made to existing long-distance lines in England and France, and approximately 800 miles of long-distance lines were constructed in Ireland, so that every station could be communicated with from London headquarters. The lumber used for construction work would provide a board-walk one foot wide, extending from New York City to the Isle of Malta—a distance of more than 4,000 miles.
When we consider the fact that during the war naval aviation abroad grew in personnel to be more than one-half the size of the entire pre-war American navy, it is not at all astonishing that all of those regular officers who had been trained in this service were employed almost exclusively in an administrative capacity, which naturally excluded them from taking part in the more exciting work of bombing submarines and fighting aircraft. To their credit be it said that they chafed considerably under this enforced restraint, but they were so few in number that we had to employ them not in command of seaplanes, but of air stations where they rendered the most valuable service.
For the reserves I entertain the very highest regard and even personal affection. Collectively they were magnificent and they reflected the greatest credit upon the country they served so gallantly and with such brilliant success. I know of no finer individual exploit in the war than that of Ensign C. H. Hammon who, while attached to our Air Station at Porto Corsini, took part in a bombing raid on Pola, in which he engaged two enemy airplanes and as a result had his plane hit in several places. During this engagement a colleague, Ensign G. H. Ludlow, was shot down. Ensign Hammon went to his rescue, landed his boat on the water just outside of Pola harbour, picked up the stricken aviator, and flew back to Porto Corsini, a distance of seventy-five miles. A heavy sea made it highly probable that his frail boat, already damaged by his combat with the enemy, would collapse and that he would be drowned or captured and made a prisoner of war. For this act of courageous devotion to duty I recommended Ensign Hammon for the Congressional Medal of Honour.
The mention of this officer calls to my mind the exploits of Lieutenant-Commander A. L. Gates, who was the second of only three officers attached to the Naval Forces in Europe whom I recommended for the Congressional Medal of Honour. The citation in the case of Gates reads as follows and needs no elaboration to prove the calibre of the man: "This officer commanded the U.S. Naval Air Station, Dunkirk, France, with very marked efficiency and under almost constant shell and bomb fire from the enemy. Alone and unescorted he rescued the crew of a British airplane wrecked in the sea off Ostend, for which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross by the British Government. This act of bravery was actually over and above the duties required of this officer and in itself demonstrates the highest type of courage. Lieutenant-Commander Gates took part in a number of flights over the enemy lines and was shot down in combat and taken prisoner by the enemy. He made several heroic and determined attempts to escape. During all of his service this officer was a magnificent example of courage, modesty, and energetic devotion to duty. He at all times upheld the very highest traditions of the Naval Service."
Volumes could well be written about the work of these splendid young Americans—of how Ensign Stephen Potter shot down in flames an enemy seaplane from a position over Heligoland Bight; unfortunately he made the supreme sacrifice only a month later when he in turn was shot down in flames and fell to his resting-place in the North Sea; and of De Cernea and Wilcox and Ludlow. Theirs was the spirit which dominated the entire Force and which made it possible to accomplish what seemed at times to be almost the impossible. It was the superior "will to victory" which proved to be invincible.