The 10,000–ton battleship was perhaps the least of the difficulties that confronted the intrepid Lieutenant. When beset by so many dangers comparison between one and another is of little consequence. The ship was anchored, and therefore presented as fine a target as a submarine commander could wish. But before she could be reached there was a gauntlet of five rows of live mines to be run. It was no good trying to ‘rush’ the Straits. For one thing, the motors of B 11 could not propel her more than 5½ knots an hour when submerged, and only 11 knots on the surface, and for another, speed would have been a disadvantage rather than a help. Barging into the nearest horned canister is not good for the health of a submarine, and Holbrook realized that he must feel his way in the painful manner of a blind man, with the difference that at intervals he could use his periscope.
The fact that the Messudiyeh had been the flagship of a British admiral previous to the outbreak of war lent a sentimental interest to the commander’s project. All submarine officers are not compounded of crude blood and iron, as popular belief has it. Holbrook is a particularly human specimen of the species, and has more than a strain of idealism in his make-up. Rear-Admiral Limpus had been engaged in reorganizing the Ottoman naval service previous to the winning-over of the Turks by the Germans. To be sure the serviceable material at his disposal, so far as battleships were concerned, was poor enough. These numbered three in all, but three on the effective list are better than none, and two Dreadnoughts were under construction in England. The last-mentioned are now members of the great family that goes under the generic name of the Royal Navy.
Holbrook threaded his way through the mines, as Nelson dodged the shoals at Copenhagen, got within target-distance of his intended victim, took his bearings, and discharged an 18–in. torpedo, the first to be fired by a B boat since the commencement of the war.
Do not run away with the idea that it was a one-sided affair—a game of naval cricket with the British commander as bowler and the batsman out of his wicket. The wash of the periscope had been spotted by a keen-eyed look-out on the Messudiyeh. Before Holbrook knew the result of his aim, shells were falling unpleasantly near, and not a few! The enemy peppered the spot with a mighty weight of metal, but B 11 was down and under when the Turks got the correct range. Even then things were precious uncomfortable, for the submarine grounded on a shoal, with only about thirty feet of water above her thin skin. It took some little time, plus much bumping and scraping, to get clear, but Holbrook never turned a hair. Flurry is not in his dictionary. He gave an order or two, then waited. On the whole B 11 behaved herself very well. She got into deeper water, from which Holbrook took a look round to ascertain the extent of the damage done. After expressing his satisfaction, he again descended.
During the whole voyage B 11 remained submerged for nine of the longest hours that the crew had ever experienced. The early British submarines are cramped and stuffy, with the minimum of accommodation and the maximum of discomfort. At least the crew could congratulate themselves on having accomplished something, for there had been a mighty reverberation a few seconds after the torpedo had started on its travels. It was horribly difficult to keep a straight course on account of the current, but coxswains and men proved themselves worthy of so gallant a skipper.
What of the Messudiyeh? It was given out by the Turkish authorities that she had sunk at her anchorage off the Asiatic shore “as the result of a leak,” and that part of the ship was still above water. The communiqué has a refreshing touch of humour about it not altogether characteristic of the general run of similar announcements. If we may accept the word of ‘a reliable source,’ the veteran turned turtle in shallow water within five minutes of having received Holbrook’s compliments. Of the battleship’s crew, which may have numbered 600 or more, the same authority states that only twenty-three escaped. These were got out by the dexterous manipulation of axe and saw.
If Englishmen take their pleasures sadly, they make war with a light heart. Shortly after his return, Lieutenant Holbrook was presented with a specially constructed Iron Cross—a huge metal affair almost as big as his head. Commander Bromley[[29]] performed the mock ceremony on board H.M.S. Indefatigable, to the immense amusement of the assembled company.
Holbrook was rightly acclaimed the Hero of the Service. Admiral Count Bettolo, voicing the opinion of the countrymen of Columbus, said that the achievement was a “magnificent feat which highly honours the British Navy and shows the firm determination to succeed on the part of the English sailors.” “The British Navy,” he added, “wishes the world to know it is capable of heroism and daring not inferior to that of any other Navy. The organizer of the raid has demonstrated that he possesses the qualities to triumph at any cost.” In Russia the exploit was hailed as one of enormous military value, which the enthusiasm of the moment doubtless suggested but subsequent events did not justify. It certainly robbed Turkey of the Messudiyeh. Most important of all, Lieutenant Norman Douglas Holbrook had blazed a trail.
Lieutenant Sydney T. Winn, second in command of B 11, was appointed to the Distinguished Service Order. No one was more delighted to hear of this honour than Lieutenant Holbrook. All the members of the crew were granted the Distinguished Service Medal.
The ill-fated Dardanelles Campaign, so rich in deeds of daring and so poor in practical results, introduced to the world at large two other submarine commanders, each of whom won the V.C. in connexion with it.