The Submarine in War and Peace: Its Development and its Possibilities

by Simon Lake

THE "DELPHINE"

Russian submarine, which drowned 23 of her crew the day the author arrived at Cronstadt.

It appears that thirty-five men, all told, were on board, and that her conning tower hatch was closed by a lever arm connected to a nut which travelled on a threaded shaft operated from down inside the vessel, and it is believed that the officer in command gave the order to fill certain tanks which were usually filled previous to closing the hatch, not taking into consideration the fact that there was so much more weight on board than usual, due to so many more men—eight being the usual crew—and at the same time giving the order to close the hatch. Just then a steamer came by and a sea broke into the hatch, which frightened one of the men so that he tried to get out, and succeeded in getting one shoulder and his head out of the hatch. His body prevented the man down below from closing the hatch before the vessel had sunk with all hands; but after she sank either the man at the closing mechanism or some one else must have had sufficient presence of mind to open the hatch again, as twelve of the men were carried up out of the boat, presumably by the air bubbles which must escape from any enclosed airtight vessel before it can become entirely filled with water. This phenomenon may be observed by taking a bottle and forcing it down under water; the water will rush in and compress the air, and then the compressed air will overcome the pressure of the incoming water and rush out, carrying some of the water with it. Two of these men and Captain Tillian, who escaped, were afterward members of the Protector's crew. Captain Tillian told me that he was in the after part of the boat when she sank, and the last he remembered was being in water up to his breast and that one of the sailors asked him to kiss him good-bye. The captain was picked up on the surface unconscious. Another of the men said that he was carried to one end of the boat on the first inrush of water and then he felt himself being rapidly carried back to the centre of the boat and heard a sharp hissing sound like the rush of air. The next thing he recalled was coming to on the dock.

The Alligator was the first of the large cruising type of submarines which we built for the Russian Government. These vessels were five hundred and thirty-five tons submerged displacement, which was about twice that of the displacement of any submarines which had previously been built; and I was very anxious to get a trial of her before the winter season came on in the fall of 1907. As the winter closes all navigation in the Gulf of Finland for six or seven months, and as there were a number of new features to be tried out in this boat, I knew that unless I succeeded in getting a trial before the winter shut down I would have several months of worry as to whether or not the boat would function satisfactorily when submerged. Delays occurred, so that we were not able to get our trial as early as expected. The action of the weather indicated that navigation was likely to be closed within a day's time, as frequently occurs in those northern latitudes. We had not received the periscopes or lights, and the boat was not entirely completed, but was sufficiently far advanced to make it safe for me to try her on a submerged run. Consequently we arranged with the commandant of Cronstadt to supply us with a sea-going tender and went out for a trial in the open gulf, where we could get sufficient water to navigate such a large boat. It was very rough and stormy, and it took us some little time to get our final adjustments to enable us to submerge completely. We found that we did not have sufficient ballast to enable her to be submerged by filling the usual water ballast tanks, so we had to let some additional water in her motor-room, being careful not to let it rise high enough to saturate the windings of our dynamo-motors. In the meantime the storm had been increasing in velocity and a very rough sea had arisen. I had observed through the sighting hood that the tender was making very bad weather of it; the last I saw of her she was pitching and jumping out of the water to such an extent that at times I could see her keel from the stem to nearly one-half her length. When we got under water we became so much interested in the operation, which was entirely satisfactory, that we did not come to the surface again for about fifteen minutes. Then we simply rose for a look around and submerged again, giving no thought to the tender. The seas were so high that we could not see any distance from our sighting hood, and supposed she was somewhere in the vicinity. We continued our tests, alternately submerging and trying her out on the turns and at different speeds of motors until our battery was nearly run down, then we blew tanks and came to the surface just at dusk, expecting to find the tender to lead us back to Cronstadt. We had no lights or compass at this time, but fortunately we were able to catch sight of one of the lightships off the entrance to the channel leading to the harbor of Cronstadt, sufficient to set our course for port. By this time it was blowing a gale; in fact, it was the north storm which preceded the close of navigation, which followed a day or two later. Finally it set in to sleet and rain, and shut off our view of the light. We had nothing to guide us, but took a chance on the general direction. Fortunately we had no mines to fear, as the war had closed and they had been removed. Finally it "cleared up" sufficiently for us to make out the lights again, and we got into Cronstadt in the early hours of the morning. On our arrival at the dock we found the commandant of the port and a number of officers who had been informed of our arrival when we came through the war harbor gateway. We found the officers and men of the tender which had escorted us, all under arrest, and the commandant of the port asked me with very great seriousness if I would like to have them sent to Siberia. It seems that they had waited about an hour after they saw us disappear, and had come to the conclusion that we were lost. The commander of the tender said that if he had remained out any longer he thought that he himself would have been lost, as the storm was so severe. It broke loose nearly everything he had in the boat, washed all of his portable deck fittings overboard, and he feared his vessel would founder. I explained to the commandant of the port that under the circumstances, and from my observations of the way the boat had jumped around when we submerged, as well as from the fact that the commander of the tender could not see us, he was justified in coming into port. I also said that I would be very greatly obliged to him—the commandant of the port—if he would release the captain and crew from arrest, with my compliments; and this, I am glad to say, was done.

A number of submarine vessels with their crews have been lost in peace-time manœuvres. The cause of loss has not always been easy to determine. In numerous cases it was undoubtedly due to faulty design, especially in boats of the diving type, where they lacked sufficient static stability and plunged headfirst into the bottom. Numerous lives have been lost by the explosion of either gasolene fumes or hydrogen gas given off by the batteries, and some by asphyxiation, caused by the escape of the products of combustion from the engines, the accumulation of carbonic acid gas or chlorine gas generated by salt water getting into the batteries.

These accidents are usually brought about by the carelessness of some member or members of the crew. I had been fortunate in not having any loss of life on any of my boats up to the beginning of the war, but ignorance and carelessness have, in several instances, caused injuries, and might as readily have caused loss of life.

I have had a commander, after being coached as to proper procedure, to attempt to submerge his submarine vessel without checking up to see that hatches and ventilators were closed.

When we were enlarging the Argonaut at Erie Basin, in Brooklyn, I went down into the boat one day and found a strong odor of gasolene and saw numerous kerosene torches burning. Upon investigation I found that two machinists who were dismantling the engine had broken the gasolene supply pipe and allowed the gasolene in the pipes to run out on the floor of the engine-room—about a half-gallon, I should judge. I ordered the men all out of the boat and blew out the torches, even taking the precaution to pinch the wicks. Upon going up on the deck, a sub-foreman in charge of the men declared that there was no danger and ordered the men back to work. I objected, and went up to the main office to report that they were doing a dangerous thing, and to see if I could not get the superintendent to order a blower sent down to blow the gas fumes out of the boat. But before I could get his attention I saw the ambulance drive by, and learned that as soon as I had left the deck a couple of the men said I must be a d—— fool to be afraid of a little gas, and they had then gone down in the boat and struck a match to relight one of the torches. By this time an explosive mixture had been formed, and I can only hope that the explosion which occurred, as well as the following weeks which they spent in hospital, have now convinced them, as well as some of the other doubters, that a little gasolene in an improper place is exceedingly dangerous.

Another more serious explosion occurred on one of our large cruising submarines at the New Admiralty Works in Russia, which was due to a combination of both carelessness and ignorance. In this instance, gasolene had been sent down to the Admiralty dock for conducting dock trials of the engines. When the fuel arrived, the boat was full of workmen, carpenters, pipe-fitters, machinists, etc., but, notwithstanding the fact that there were rules posted that all men should leave the boat when taking on gasolene—except an inspector, who should check up to see that the proper valves were opened and everything tight—the quartermaster in charge of the labor crew, without notifying anyone in charge or anyone aboard the boat, connected up with the supply system and started pumping the gasolene into the boat. The engine was then running and charging batteries. Now it appears that one of the naval officers had—also without notifying the engineer—ordered a section of the filling pipe taken down for the purpose of having a branch pipe connection made in order to carry some additional fuel in the centre ballast tank—something we did not approve of; so, when the gasolene was pumped into the boat, instead of going into the proper tanks it ran out on the floor of the conning tower, then down through some openings for electric wires that had not yet been sealed, over the switchboard, and collected in a large puddle on the floor. One of the Russian electricians, who had been aft adjusting the dynamos, finally noticed this gasolene running down over the switchboard and cried out in Russian, "Quick, leave the boat for your lives!" and in his excitement he pulled the switch through which the dynamos were charging the batteries. This created a spark, which was all that was needed to create an explosion. Fortunately, this was a large boat and she had three exit hatches, all of which were open. A number of men were just in the act of going through the hatches; they were blown up into the air twenty-five or thirty feet, according to some observers, two of them falling into the water, from which they were rescued. Many of the men were seriously burned, but none fatally. Those most seriously injured were those near the hatches, as the flash of flame rose toward the hatches, the openings being the line of least resistance for the compressed air and gases. The men in the ends of the boat were not injured, while those midway between the hatches had about six inches of the bottom of their trousers burned to a crisp, which shows that the heavy gasolene fumes had not yet become thoroughly mixed with the air.

I had been on board this vessel only a few minutes previous to this explosion and at that time everything was in proper order, but I had left to keep an appointment with the Minister of Marine. Before reaching his office, however, one of our office men overtook me and notified me of the explosion. On my return I found great excitement, as it was reported that many men had been killed. The explosion had set fire to a lot of shavings and the wooden deck covering over the batteries, as well as some joiner work which was in process of erection. Some of the yard officers had ordered the hatches battened down, but the engines were still running, receiving sufficient air through ventilators to supply combustion. It was reported that several men were missing, and it was believed they had been killed by the explosion and were still on board. In the meantime the Minister of Marine and other officers had arrived, also a couple of fire companies, and I requested them to open the hatches and see if they could not put out the fire and get out the bodies if any were there. The officers objected on the ground that if any water were put on board it probably, upon coming in contact with the batteries, would create a lot of hydrogen gas and cause a further and perhaps more disastrous explosion. Finally I procured a couple of flasks of carbonic acid gas and let that into the boat over the battery compartment where the fire was, which smothered the flames, and then borrowed one of the firemen's smoke helmets and went down into the vessel, expecting to find some of the bodies of our missing men. The fire had burned the rubber insulators off the wires and some of the asphaltum insulators around the batteries, and the smoke was so thick that it was impossible to see anything, even with an electric lamp which I carried, but the heat was not very intense, as the flames had been put out by the carbonic gas and I found no bodies, so I ordered the hatches open, blowers put in, and a few buckets of water, which put out the embers. Our missing men were later found in the hospital, where they had been rushed before their names had been taken. Seventeen of the men were injured so badly that they had to go to the hospital, but the burns were mostly superficial, only the outer skin and hair being burned, and this was due to the instantaneous flash of the gasolene. They all eventually recovered.