From the time the first torpedo had hit, the enemy realized that Chagford was a warship, for the 4-inch gun and torpedo tubes had been made visible, and now that the second explosion had come Lieutenant Jeffrey decided to recall his boats so that the ship might genuinely be abandoned. The lifeboat, dinghy, and a barrel raft were accordingly filled, and about 5.30 a.m. the enemy fired a third torpedo, which struck also on the starboard side. Having sent away in the boats and raft everyone with the exception of himself and a lieutenant, R.N.R., two sub-lieutenants, R.N.R., also an assistant-paymaster, R.N.R., and one petty officer, Lieutenant Jeffrey stationed these in hiding under cover of the fo’c’sle and poop, keeping a smart look-out, however, through the scuttles.
Here was another doomed ship rolling about in the Atlantic without her crew, and only a gallant handful of British seamanhood still standing by with but a shred of hope. To accentuate their suspense periscopes were several times seen, and from 9 a.m. until 9 p.m. a submarine frequently appeared on the surface at long range, and almost every hour a periscope passed round the ship inspecting her cautiously. During the whole of this time Chagford was settling down gradually but certainly. At dark Lieutenant Jeffrey, fearing that the enemy might attempt boarding, placed Lewis and Maxim guns in position and served out rifles and bayonets to all. Midnight came, and after making a further examination of the damage, Lieutenant Jeffrey realized that it was impossible for the Chagford to last much longer, for her main deck amidships was split from side to side, the bridge deck was badly buckled, and the whole ship was straining badly. Therefore, just before half-past midnight, these five abandoned the ship in a small motor-boat which they had picked up at sea some days previously, but before quitting Chagford they disabled the guns, all telescopic sights and strikers being removed.
Having shoved off, they found to their dismay that there were no tanks in the motor-boat, so she had to be propelled by a couple of oars, and it will readily be appreciated that this kind of propulsion in the North Atlantic was not a success. They then thought of going back to the ship, but before they could do so they were fortunately picked up at 7.30 a.m. by H.M. trawler Saxon, a large submarine having been seen several times on the horizon between 4 and 7 a.m. The trawler then proceeded to hunt for the submarine, but, as the latter had now made off, volunteers were called for and went aboard Chagford, so that by 4 p.m. Saxon had commenced towing her. Bad luck again overcame their efforts, for wind and sea had been steadily increasing, and of course there was no steam, so the heavy work of handling cables had all to be done by hand. Until the evening the ship towed fairly well at 2 knots, but, as she seemed then to be breaking up, the tow-rope had to be slipped, and just before eight o’clock next morning (August 7) she took a final plunge and disappeared. The Saxon made for the Scottish coast and landed the survivors at Oban on the morning of the eighth. In this encounter, difficult as it was, Chagford had done real service, for she had damaged the submarine so much that she could not submerge, and this was probably U 44 which H.M.S. Oracle sighted in the early hours of August 12 off the north coast of Scotland, evidently bound to Germany. Oracle chased her; U 44 kept diving and coming to the surface after a short while. She had disguised herself as a trawler, and was obviously unable to dive except for short periods. Oracle shelled and then rammed her, so that U 44 was destroyed and Chagford avenged. Nothing more was seen of Chagford except some wreckage found by a trawler on August 11, who noticed the word Bracondale on the awnings.
After Lieutenant Jeffrey and crew had returned to their base they proceeded to fit out the 2,794-ton S.S. Arvonian. This was to be a very powerful Q-ship, for she was armed with three 4-inch guns instead of one, in addition to three 12-pounders, two Maxim guns, and actually four 18-inch torpedo tubes. She was, in fact, a light cruiser, except for speed and appearance, but the Chagford crew were destined to disappointment, for this is what happened. The reader will recollect that in her engagement of June 7, 1917, Captain Campbell’s famous ship Pargust received so much damage that she had to be left in dockyard hands while he and his crew went to sea in the Dunraven. Now, at the beginning of October Admiral Sims asked the British Admiralty for a ship to carry out this decoy work, and to be manned by the United States Navy. The Admiralty therefore selected Pargust, and Admiral Sims then assigned her to the U.S.N. forces based on Queenstown. Her repairs, however, took rather a longer time than had been hoped; in fact, she was not finished and commissioned again until the following May, so it was decided to pay off Arvonian on November 26, 1917, and she was then recommissioned with a United States crew under Commander D. C. Hanrahan, U.S.N., and changed her name to Santee. By the time she left Queenstown for her maiden cruise she was a very wonderful ship. Her 4-inch guns had been disguised by being recessed, and by such concealments as lifebuoy lockers, hatch covers, and so on. The 12-pounder gun aft had a tilting mounting, as also had the two 12-pounders forward at the break of the fo’c’sle on either side. Thus they were concealed, but could be instantly brought into position. Her four torpedo tubes were arranged so that there was one on each beam, one to fire right ahead, and one to fire right astern. She also boasted of a searchlight, a wireless set, and an emergency wireless apparatus. She had two lifeboats, two skiffs, two Carley floats, and also a motor-boat. She was thus the last word in Q-ship improvements, and embodied all the lessons which had been learnt by bitter and tragic experience. Two days after Christmas, 1917, she left Queenstown at dusk on her way to Bantry Bay to train her crew, but in less than five hours she was torpedoed. It was no disgrace, but a sheer bit of hard luck which might have happened to any other officer, British or American. Commander Hanrahan was one of the ablest and keenest destroyer captains of the American Navy, and no one who had ever been aboard his ship could fail to note his efficiency. He had been one of the early destroyer arrivals when the United States that summer had begun to send their destroyer divisions across the Atlantic to Queenstown, and he had done most excellent work.
But on this night his Q-ship career came to a sudden stop, though not before everything possible had been done to entrap the enemy. It was one of those cloudy, moonlight, wintry nights with good visibility. As might have been expected under such a captain there was a total absence of confusion; all hands went to their stations, the ‘panic’ party got away in accordance with the best ‘panic’ traditions, while on board the crews remained at their gun stations for five hours, hoping and longing for the submarine to show herself. No such good fortune followed, for the submarine was shy; so just before midnight Commander Hanrahan sent a wireless message to Admiral Bayly at Queenstown, and very shortly afterwards the U.S. destroyer Cummings arrived. At 1 a.m. the tug Paladin took Santee in tow, escorted by four United States destroyers and the two British sloops Viola and Bluebell. Santee got safely into port and was sent to Devonport, where she was eventually handed back by the U.S.N. to the British Navy, owing to the time involved in repairs. On June 4, 1918, she was once more recommissioned in the Royal Navy and took the name of Bendish, the crew having come from the Q-ship Starmount. By this date the conditions of submarine warfare had undergone a modification. In home waters it was only the quite small Q-ships of the coaster type, of about 500 tons, which could be expected to have any chance of successfully engaging a submarine. This class would normally be expected to be seen within the narrow seas, and the enemy would not be so shy. But for such vessels as Bendish and Pargust the most promising sphere was likely to be between Gibraltar and the Azores and the north-west coast of Africa, where German so-called ‘cruiser’ submarines of the Deutschland type were operating. Therefore a special force, based on Gibraltar but operating in the Azores area or wherever submarines were to be expected, was organized, consisting of four Q-ships. These were the Bendish (late Santee), Captain Campbell’s former ship Pargust but now named the Pangloss, the Underwing, and the Marshfort, the whole squadron being under the command of Lieut.-Commander Dane in Bendish. After being at last ready for sea in May, 1918, Pangloss, commanded by Lieutenant Jeffrey, who for his fine work in Chagford had received the D.S.O., had then been assigned to serve under the Vice-Admiral Northern Patrols until she was sent south.
Q-ship Transformation
Crew painting funnel while at sea (see pp. [220]-1).
Q-ship “Barranca” at Sea
The look-out man aft is disguised as one of the Mercantile crew. The dummy wheel, dummy sky-light, and dummy deck-house are seen. The latter concealed a 4-inch gun and two 12-pounders.
To face p. 234