Submarine Warfare, Past, Present, and Future

by Herbert C. Fyfe

M. Calmette, of the Figaro, who accompanied General André on the trial trip of the Morse, sent to his journal a long account of his experiences during the two hours which the trial lasted. He said the defect of the Morse lay in the fact that the motive power was supplied by electric accumulators, the premature exhaustion of which might deprive the vessel of all means of action. A combination had, however, been effected, which enabled accumulators to be recharged on the spot. This system would be utilised on the submarines Français and Algerien. As was already known, the commander directed the navigation of the vessel by means of a periscope, the extremity of which, resting on the surface, gave him—no matter at what depth—an absolutely faithful and distinct image of all that was taking place on the surface. The immersion was effected easily and without shock, in exactly seventy seconds. Breathing in a submarine was as easy as in an ordinary room. The vessel could remain in the water for sixteen hours without inconvenience to the occupants, and could rise to the surface very rapidly. The correspondent went on to say that after the trial the Morse, in conjunction with the Narval, went through a series of manœuvres lasting eight hours. The Morse discharged a torpedo with remarkable precision by a process which was a profound secret.

M. Calmette’s account furnishes interesting reading. He says:—

“General André, Dr. Vincent, a naval doctor, and I enter the submarine boat Morse through the narrow opening in the upper surface of the boat. Our excursion is to begin immediately; in two hours we are to come to the surface of the water again three miles to the north to rejoin the Narval. Turning to the crew, every man of which is at his post, the commandant gives his orders, dwelling with emphasis on each word. A sailor repeats his orders one by one, and all is silent. The Morse had already started on its mysterious voyage, but is skimming along the surface until outside the port in order to avoid the numerous craft in the Arsenal. To say that at this moment, which I had so keenly anticipated, I did not have the tremor which comes from contact with the unknown would be beside the truth. On the other hand, calm and imperturbable, but keenly curious as to this novel form of navigation, General André had already taken his place near the commandant on a folding seat. There are no chairs in this long tube in which we are imprisoned. Everything is arranged for the crew alone, with an eye to serious action. Moreover, the Minister of War is too tall to stand upright beneath the iron ceiling, and in any case it would be impossible to walk about.

“The only free space is a narrow passage, 60 centimetres broad, less than two metres high, and 30 metres long, divided into three equal sections. In the first, in the forefront of the tube, repose the torpedoes, with the machine for launching them, which at a distance of from 500 to 600 metres are bound to sink, with the present secret processes, the largest of ironclads. In the second section are the electric accumulators which give the light and power. In the third, near the screw, is the electric motor which transforms into movement the current of the accumulators. Under all this, beneath the floor, from end to end, are immense water ballasts, which can be emptied or filled in a few seconds by electric machines, in order to carry the vessel up or down. Finally, in the centre of the tube, dominating these three sections, which the electric light inundates, and which no partition divides, the navigating lieutenant stands on the look-out giving his orders.

“There is but one thing which could destroy in a second all the sources of authority, initiative, and responsibility in this officer. That is the failure of the accumulators. Were the electricity to fail everything would come to a stop. Darkness would overtake the boat and imprison it for ever in the water. To avoid any such disaster there have been arranged, it is true, outside the tube and low down a series of lead blades which can be removed from within to lighten the vessel. But admitting that the plunger would return to the surface, the boat would float hither and thither, and at all events lose all its properties as a submarine vessel. To avoid any such disaster a combination of motors has been in course of construction for some months, so that the accumulators may be loaded afresh on the spot, in case of their being used up. I betray no secret in stating that this new scheme is already completed, and the next submarine vessels, the Français, the Algerien, and the Matin, will be fitted with the result.

“The Morse, after skimming along the surface of the water until outside the port, is now about to sink. The commandant’s place is no longer in the helmet or kiosque whence he can direct the route along the surface of the sea. His place is henceforth in the very centre of the tube, in the midst of all sorts of electric manipulators, his eyes continually fixed on a mysterious optical apparatus, the periscope. The other extremity of this instrument floats on the surface of the water, and whatever the depth of the plunge it gives him a perfectly faithful and clear representation, as in a camera, of everything occurring on the water.

“The most interesting moment of all now comes. I hasten to the little opening to get the impression of total immersion. The lieutenant by the marine chart verifies the depths. The casks of water are filled and our supply of air is thereby renewed from their stores of surplus air. In our tiny observatory, where General André stations himself above me, a most unexpected spectacle presents itself as the boat is immersed.

“The plunge is so gentle that in the perfect silence of the waters one does not perceive the process of descent, and there is only an instrument capable of indicating, by a needle, the depth to which the Morse is penetrating. The vessel is advancing while at the same time it descends, but there is no sensation of either advance or roll. As to respiration, it is as perfect as in any room. M. de Lanessan, who since entering office has ordered eight more submarine vessels, has concerned himself with the question as a medical man also, and, thanks to the labours of a commission formed by him, the difficulties of respiration are entirely solved. The crew can remain under water sixteen hours without the slightest strain. Our excursion on this occasion lasted scarcely two hours. Towards noon, by means of the mysterious periscope, which, always invisible, floats on the surface and brings to the vessel below a reflection of all that passes up above, the captain shows us the Narval, which has just emerged with its two flags near the old battery Impregnable. From the depths in which we are sailing we watch its slightest manœuvres, until the admiral’s flag, waving on the top of a fort, reminds us that it is time to return.”

Français and Algerien.

Two sister vessels, submarines proper, the Français and the Algerien, designed by M. Romazzotti, were laid down at Cherbourg in 1900. They were built with the proceeds of a subscription opened by the Matin at the time of the Fashoda dispute. They are almost identical with the Morse, though in some respects they are improvements on their prototype. They are built of steel, and the sole motive power is electricity. The cost of each is £32,972. The Français was launched on January 29, 1901, and the Algerien on February 15, 1901.