CHAPTER XVII
SHIPS OF ALL SIZES
The unrestricted phase of submarine warfare instituted in February, 1917, had, apart from other means, been met by an increase in the number of Q-ships, so that by the end of May there were close upon eighty steamers and sailing craft either being fitted out as decoys or already thus employed. By far the greater number of the big Q-ships were serving under Admiral Bayly, the other large craft being based on Longhope, Portsmouth, the south-east of England, and Malta. Of the smaller types, such as trawlers and sailing ships, no fewer than one-half were based on Granton, under Admiral Startin, the rest of these little vessels working out of Stornoway, Longhope, Peterhead, Lowestoft, Portsmouth, Plymouth, Falmouth, Milford Haven, and Malta.
One of the moderate-sized Q-steamers was the 1,680-ton Stonecrop, alias Glenfoyle, which was armed with a 4-inch, a 12-pounder, and four 200-lb. howitzers. She had begun her special service at the end of May, 1917, under Commander M. B. R. Blackwood, R.N. She was very slow, and her captain found her practically unmanageable in anything of a head wind and sea. Her first cruise was in the English Channel, and she left Portsmouth on August 22. Three days later when 15 miles south of the Scillies she saw a large steamer torpedoed and sunk. Stonecrop herself was caught in bad weather, and had to run before the gale and sea towing an oil bag astern. Arriving back at Portsmouth she needed a few repairs, and left again on September 11 to cruise off the western approaches of the British Isles. Six days later she was off the south-west coast of Ireland steering a westerly course when a submarine was seen on the surface. This was the U 88, one of the biggest types, over 200 feet long, armed with a 4·1-inch and a 22-pounder, plus torpedoes. It was now 4.40 p.m., and though the enemy was still several miles away he opened fire three minutes later with both guns. Stonecrop accordingly pretended to flee from his wrath, turned 16 points, made off at her full speed (which was only 7 knots), made S.O.S. signals on her wireless, followed by ‘Hurry up or I shall have to abandon ship’—en clair so that the submarine should read it. And in order further still to simulate a defensively armed merchant ship she replied with her after gun.
Thus it went on until 5.15 p.m., by which time the submarine had not registered a hit and was gradually closing: but most of the shells were falling very near to the steamer, so that the German might easily have supposed they were hits. In order to fool the enemy further still Commander Blackwood had his smoke apparatus now lit. This was most successful, the whole ship becoming enveloped in smoke and seeming to be on fire. A quarter of an hour later Stonecrop ‘abandoned’ ship, sending away also a couple of hands in uniform to represent the men from the deserted defensive gun. The submarine then displayed the usual tactics: submerged, came slowly towards the ship, passing down the port side, rounding the stern, and then came to the surface 600 yards off the starboard quarter, displaying the whole of his length. For three minutes the British and German captains remained looking at each other, the former, of course, from his position of concealment. But at ten minutes past six, as there were still no signs of anyone coming out of the conning-tower hatch, and as the U-boat seemed about to make for Stonecrop’s boats, Captain Blackwood decided this was the critical moment and gave the order. From the 4-inch gun and all howitzers there suddenly poured across the intervening 600 yards a very hot fire, which had unmistakable effect: for the fourth shot hit the base of the conning-tower, causing a large explosion and splitting the conning-tower in two. The fifth shot got her just above the water-line under the foremost gun, the sixth struck between that gun and the conning-tower, the seventh hit 30 feet from the end of the hull, the eighth got her just at the angle of the conning-tower and deck, the ninth and tenth shells came whizzing on to the water-line between the after gun and conning-tower, whilst the eleventh hit the deck just abaft the conning-tower and tearing it up. Good gunnery, certainly!
This was about as much as the stunned submarine could stand, and forging ahead she suddenly submerged and sank stern first, but a few seconds later she rose to the surface with a heavy list to starboard, and then sank for good and all. For, on submerging, she had found she was leaking so badly that her condition was hopeless, and she was doubtless intending to surrender, but apparently the fourth shot from Stonecrop had so damaged the conning-tower hatch that it could not be opened. Thus there perished U 88, but this was more than the sinking of an ordinary submarine, for with her there went to his doom Lieut.-Commander Schwieger, who, when in command of U 20, had sunk the Lusitania on May 7, 1915, with the loss of over eleven hundred men, women, and children. Altogether Stonecrop’s action had been very neat. He had lured the enemy into a short range, utterly fooled him, and then disabled him before he woke up. For this service Commander Blackwood received the D.S.O., and three R.N.R. lieutenants and a naval warrant officer each received a D.S.C. But Q-ship life was always full of uncertainties, for on the very next day Stonecrop was herself torpedoed by another submarine at 1 p.m., though fortunately this was in a position a little nearer the coast. Two officers and twenty survivors were picked up by a motor-launch of the Auxiliary Patrol and landed at Berehaven; sixty-four men in one boat and a raft were remaining behind, but all available craft were sent out to rescue them.
The employment of small coasting steamers was, during the last phase of the war, more and more developed. What the Q-ship captain liked was that the enemy should attack him not with torpedoes but with gunfire. Now, even the biggest German submarines carried usually not more than ten torpedoes, and inasmuch as his cruise away from any base lasted weeks, and, in the case of the Deutschland class, even months, it was obvious that the U-boat had to conserve his torpedoes for those occasions which were really worth while. From this it follows that a submarine captain who knew his work, and was anxious to make a fine haul before ending his cruise, would not, as a rule, waste his torpedoes on a 500-ton steamer when he might have secured much bigger tonnage by using the same missile against a 20,000-ton liner.
This suggested an avenue of thought, and as early as January, 1918, the matter was considered by Admiral Bayly and developed. Already there were in existence several small vessels acting as Q-ships, but simultaneously carrying out in all respects the duties of cargo-carriers from port to port, and thus paying their way. It was now decided to look for a little steamer which, based on Queenstown, would work between the Bristol Channel, Irish Sea, and the south coast of Ireland, where even during the height of the submarine campaign it was customary to see such craft. As a result of this decision Captain Gordon Campbell was sent to inspect the S.S. Wexford Coast, which was being repaired at Liverpool. Her gross tonnage was only 423, she had a well deck, three masts, and engines placed aft: just the ordinary-looking, innocent steamer that would hardly attract a torpedo. Owned by Messrs. Powell, Bacon, Hough, and Co., of Liverpool, this vessel had already done valuable work in the war; for in 1915 she had been requisitioned for store-carrying in the Dardanelles, where she was found invaluable in keeping the troops supplied, and when that campaign came to an end assisted at the evacuation. Returning to England, she was again sent out as a store-carrier, this time to the White Sea. Wexford Coast was now taken up as a Q-ship, her fitting-out being supervised by Lieut.-Commander L. S. Boggs, R.N.R., who had been in command of the Q-ship Tamarisk, and from the last ship came a large part of her new crew. She was duly armed, and fitted with a cleverly concealed wireless aerial, to be used only in case of emergency, and was then commissioned on March 13, 1918, as ‘Store-Carrier No. 80,’ this title being for the purpose of preserving secrecy. She put to sea in her dual capacity, but on August 31 had the misfortune to be run into by the French S.S. Bidart, six miles south-east of the Start, at four o’clock in the morning—another instance of this fatal hour for collisions. The Frenchman grounded on the Skerries and capsized, and the Wexford Coast had to put in to Devonport. After the sinking of the Q-ship Stockforce (to be related presently), Admiral Bayly wished the captain and crew of the latter to be appointed to a coaster similar to Wexford Coast, so the Suffolk Coast was chosen at the beginning of August whilst she was lying in the Firth of Forth. Before the end of the month she had arrived at Queenstown, where she was fitted out. On November 10 she set out from Queenstown, but on the following day came the Armistice, which spoiled her ambitions. However, in this, the latest of all Q-ships, we see the development so clearly that it will not be out of place here to anticipate dates and give her description.
Suffolk Coast was intentionally the most ordinary-looking little coaster, with three masts, her engines and funnel being placed aft, and the very last thing she resembled was a man-of-war. But she was heavily armed for so small a ship. In her were embodied all the concentrated experience of battle and engineering development. All that could be learned from actual fighting, from narrow escapes, and from defects manifested in awkward moments was here taken advantage of. Instead of a 12-knot 4,000-ton steamer the development had, owing to the trend of the campaign, been in the direction of a ship one-eighth of the size, but more cleverly disguised with better ‘gadgets.’ In fact, instead of being a model of simplicity as in the early days, the Q-ship had become a veritable box of tricks. It was the triumph of mind over material, of brain over battle. Coolness and bravery and resolute endurance were just as requisite in the last as in the first stages of the campaign, but the qualities of scientific bluff had attained the highest value. The basic principle was extreme offensive power combined with outward innocence: the artfulness of the eagle, but the appearance of a dove.
In Suffolk Coast there was one long series of illusions from forward to aft. On the fo’c’sle head was a quite usual wire reel such as is used in this class of ship for winding in a wire rope. But this reel had been hollowed out inside so as to allow the captain to con the ship. Near by was also a periscope, but this was disguised by being hidden in a stove-pipe such as would seem to connect with the crew’s heating arrangements below. Now this was not merely a display of ingenuity but an improvement based on many a hard case. What frequently happened after the ‘abandon ship’ party pushed off? As we have seen, this was often the time when the real fight began, and the enemy would shell the bridge to make sure no living thing could remain. That being so, the obvious position for the captain was to be away from the bridge, though it broke away from all the traditions of the sea. In Suffolk Coast the enemy could continue sweeping the bridge, but the captain would be under the shelter of the fo’c’sle head and yet watching intently. Similarly both he and his men need not, in passing from the bridge or one end of the ship to another, be exposed to the enemy’s fire, for an ingenious tunnel was made right into the fo’c’sle through the hold. In a similar manner, if the forward part of the ship had been ‘done in,’ there was a periscope aft disguised as a pipe coming up from the galley stove.