The Corsair in the war zone

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

The answer came right back from the Finland’s skipper:

“Why not New York?”

The Corsair cracked on speed to search for the submarine, instructing the Wakiva and Alcedo to aid the Finland’s people who were adrift in boats or upon rafts. Three destroyers proceeded on the voyage with the two other transports while the fourth destroyer remained to operate with the Corsair. Investigation had disclosed the fact that the Finland was able to move under her own steam and the task in hand was to put the crew back on board and escort her into Brest for repairs. Meanwhile the Corsair, in quest of the enemy, was letting a real barrage of depth charges slide over her stern, and her wake was one thundering geyser after another. Eleven of these bombs jarred her rivets when they went off, and if a man had any loose teeth in his head he was liable to lose them entirely. Alas, no débris, such as dead German sailors, rose to the surface.

The report of the senior naval officer of the Finland, Captain Stephen V. Graham, is a lucid narrative and it is worth while to let him tell the tale:

Due to the congested condition at the port of debarkation, which was often serious in the early days of our transport service, the Finland had been unable to accompany the group of fast troop transports to which she belonged and which had proceeded on the return voyage about two weeks earlier. On this occasion she was in company with two freight transports of the armed-guard category which were not able to make more than eleven knots, but the three vessels had an escort of four destroyers and three converted yachts, which was uncommonly large at that time when the demand exceeded the supply. It was frequently necessary for the Finland to slow down to such a speed as would enable an enemy submarine to take a favorable position for attack.

By daylight of October 28th the convoy had reached a position near the line extending from the island of Ushant to Cape Finisterre, which experience had shown to be a particularly dangerous area. From that time on, the senior naval officer of the Finland remained on the bridge constantly and all the lookouts were exercising the utmost vigilance.

The weather was cloudy and a moderate sea running, and I was engaged in searching the water on both sides with powerful binoculars. I had just finished gazing at the starboard side when the naval signal quartermaster on watch called out, “Commander! Torpedo!” I turned and saw a torpedo about fifty or a hundred yards distant making a surface run directly toward the ship. The whirring of the torpedo’s propellers could be heard when they broke the surface of the water. To avoid it was impossible. The effect of the explosion was considerable but not as great as had been anticipated. No one on the bridge was injured.

I directed a radio operator to send out an S.O.S. call but it was found that the aerial had been carried away by the force of the explosion. The first report that reached the bridge was that the forward fire-room was flooded. At this time it did not appear probable that the ship would sink but in a short time she began to list to starboard and seemed to be settling. I ordered the lowering of the remaining boats which were hanging on their falls at the level of the promenade deck. These boats were scarcely in the water when the ship began to right herself, and the acting master, Chief Officer John Jensen, who had gone below to investigate the extent of the damage, returned to the bridge and reported to me that the destruction was confined to No. 4 hold, the bulkheads of which were intact.

In the meantime I observed Third Assistant Engineer George Mikkelson who had been on watch in the engine-room when the torpedo struck the ship, moving about the main deck with a wooden mallet in his hand and endeavoring to drive the frightened firemen back to their stations. He came to the bridge and reported to me that the boilers and engines were not damaged and that the ship could be got under way again in a short time if the men could be induced to go to work.

The damaged compartment, just forward of the fire-rooms, was used as a reserve coal bunker. At that time it contained about six hundred tons of coal. After the ship had been placed in dry-dock, upon her return to France, it was found that most of this coal had run out through the immense hole made in the side by the explosion of the torpedo.