The Harwich Naval Forces: Their Part in the Great War

by E. F. Knight

A great deal of useful work was done by the Harwich drifters in evolving the best method of working the indicator net, and their system was eventually adopted as standard by the Admiralty. Great perfection was attained in this work. Thus, on one occasion in 1917 some Harwich drifters sailed to a certain destination in the North Sea, and after a week's work in laying and watching their nets destroyed three "U" boats. The crews received a reward of £3000 from the Admiralty; for £1000 was the prize given for the total destruction of one of these enemy submarines.

The mine-sweeping has been described by those who should know as having been the hardest service in the North Sea during the war. Sir Edward Carson, who inspected the Harwich auxiliary force, in the course of a speech, likened the men employed in the mine-sweeping craft to soldiers in trenches at the front, who were required to go over the top every day. It was indeed arduous and hazardous work. The least of the dangers faced was that from the enemy Zeppelins and aeroplanes which were constantly bombing the vessels—but here, as elsewhere, with little effect; our fishermen took small notice of these overhead foes.

It is indeed remarkable how very little damage was ever done by Zeppelins at sea. On one occasion, it is true, the Zeppelin crews killed a number of their own countrymen—the survivors of the sinking Blücher—mistaking them for Englishmen. But our ships suffered practically nothing from their frequent attacks. Yet the enemy aircraft did their utmost to interfere with the operations of our mine-sweepers and mine-net laying drifters. On one occasion a Zeppelin hovered over a fleet of the latter craft which were lying in wait watching their deadly nets off the Shipwash. The Zeppelin dropped about seventeen bombs, some of which fell very close to the vessels, exploding violently and throwing up huge columns of water; but not a single hit was made and no damage was done.

But the mines amid which their duties took them daily were a very real peril. Out of the little Harwich force, twenty-two mine-sweepers were sunk by mines in the course of the war, while many others were mined—some more than once—but were brought safely back to port. The loss of life was heavy. Nearly one-quarter of the officers and men were killed in the course of the war. In the case of the trawlers there was small chance for the men when their vessel was mined under them; but these tough fishermen, whose trade had taught them to face danger from their childhood, carried on cheerily among the minefields through all the years of the war. Many heroic deeds stand to their account.

In times of peace, not few are the wrecks and gallant savings of life on the stormy North Sea. But in war-time, with the far graver peril from enemy mines and ships added to that of storm or thick weather, many were the disasters and many were the courageous rescues of crews and passengers by our mine-sweepers. In the period extending from the date of the establishment of the Harwich base up to December 31, 1917, no fewer than 1065 men, women, and children were picked up and saved from mined vessels by the Harwich mine-sweepers—a total which was much exceeded later. Often these craft hurried to the rescue at fearful risk of being struck themselves by mines of the same group that had brought about the disaster. One hears of trawlers that put out their dinghies in the roughest weather in order to save lives; for example, as when a trawler's dinghy rescued airmen from off the dangerous shoal of the Longsand when a heavy sea was breaking over it. For the North Sea fisherman, like his brethren in the Navy, is imbued with that chivalry of the sea which makes the British sailor what he is.

And not only lives but ships with valuable cargoes of food were often saved. For example, there is the notable incident of the saving of the Berwen. In the rapidly falling darkness of a winter day, with a strong south-west gale blowing and a heavy sea running, the little wooden drifter Lloyd George, manned by ten hardy Scotch fishermen, while patrolling the War-Channel between the Shipwash and the Sunk light-vessels, sighted the large merchant steamer Berwen, apparently mined and not under control, to the south-westward of the Shipwash.

The Lloyd George immediately steamed at full speed to the assistance of the Berwen, only to find that the mined ship had been abandoned by her crew and was rapidly drifting on to a minefield which stretched to leeward of her, where several moored mines could be plainly seen at intervals in the rise and fall of the heavy sea. The skipper of the drifter, realising the danger and the necessity for immediate action, with great skill and wonderful seamanship placed his drifter alongside the Berwen and, having put three members of his crew of ten on board her, passed a tow-line and commenced to tow her to the south-west, away from the minefields.

The little drifter, not fitted for towing, having none of the necessary appliances on board, and not having the power to deal with so heavy a tow, could make little, if any, progress in the teeth of the ever-increasing gale; but she held on to the Berwen and fought bravely on throughout the dark night, surrounded by the unknown dangers of mines, and was able at the coming of daylight to hand her charge over safely to the tugs for which she had wirelessed.

The Berwen eventually reached the Thames with only a few hundred tons damaged out of the seven thousand tons of sugar which formed her cargo. One is not surprised to hear that a grateful country omitted to pay any salvage to the seamen who, by their gallant action, had rescued so valuable a cargo, on the ground that the sugar was Government property.

Worthy of note, too, is the good work done by the trawler Resono. On November 17, 1915, when off the Galloper light-vessel, she witnessed the blowing up by a mine of the merchant steamer Ulrikon. She took off all the crew of the lost ship, and no sooner had this rescue been effected than another steamer, the Athomas, struck a mine and was badly injured by the explosion. Her crew abandoned her and were picked up. The officer commanding the Resono, observing that the Athomas was not in immediate danger of sinking, decided to salvage her. The men composing her own crew refused to go on board of her again, though it was explained to them that they would have to go through the minefield in any case, and that they would be safer in a ship of large tonnage than in a trawler. Therefore the captain of the Resono called for volunteers from his own crew, put them on board the Athomas despite the heavy weather, towed her safely away, and handed her over to the Sheerness Patrol in sheltered waters. The Resono, after having accomplished much good work, eventually was blown up by a mine off the Sunk light-vessel on Christmas Day, 1915.