Submarine and Anti-submarine

by Sir Henry John Newbolt

The war record of our destroyers is unsurpassed. We know that to the Grand Fleet we owe, as to a vast and solid foundation, the unshaken fabric of our sea power, and that in the day of battle it has always proved itself incomparable. But we hardly, perhaps, realised that in our destroyer force we have a second Grand Fleet, equal to the other in spirit and seamanship, greater in numbers, and counting its days of battle not by twos or by twenties, but by the thousand. The work of the destroyers has been unceasing. Setting apart such service as their whirlwind attacks at Jutland, they have done perhaps nine-tenths of the hard work of the War, cruising and reconnoitring, convoying or rescuing our ships, and hunting the pirate submarine. The strain has been great, for they have been called upon incessantly to do the work of twice their number; they have answered the call, not with a dogged or defensive courage, but with unfailing readiness and dash. They have shown themselves the true successors of the frigates and ships that were the pride of our proudest days in the old time; their commanders are the right heirs of the Brookes and Blackwoods, Parkers and Pellews.

In considering the Anti-Submarine work of the destroyers, it must be remembered that hunting is not, generally speaking, their first object. They are out, not for sport, but for ‘business as usual.’ They have a large number of U-boats to their credit, but in most of these cases the kill was incidental; it resulted from the perfection of skill and smartness with which some professional duty was being performed, at the moment when the opportunity occurred. A few typical examples will make this clear.

In August 1917, an upward sweep of the Norwegian coast was being carried out by a light squadron, consisting of three cruisers and six destroyers, the whole under the orders of H.M.S. Yarmouth, Captain Thomas D. Pratt, R.N., with Commander Geoffrey Corbett, R.N., as Senior Officer of Destroyers. The light cruisers were in line abreast, visibility distance apart—anything from five to ten miles—and each was screened by two destroyers. The cruiser on the port wing was Birkenhead, and the destroyer on her port bow was the Oracle, which was therefore outside ship of the whole squadron.

Just before dark, Lieutenant-Commander A. Grendon Tippet, R.N., commanding Oracle, was informed that very strong German wireless from two different sources was being intercepted; and as one of the sources was evidently near by, he decided to keep all hands closed up to their quarters throughout the night. Nothing, however, happened until broad daylight, when, at about 6 A.M., Lieutenant Claude Butlin, officer of the watch, sighted a vessel on the horizon. No one else on the bridge could see it, but Mr. Butlin reported it, and his captain, who knew his exceptional alertness and powers of vision, ordered him to continue the look-out and report again. Shortly afterwards the vessel was sighted by the midshipman and the signalman of the watch, and was pronounced to be a trawler.

But a few minutes after this Mr. Butlin saw a bow and stern lift out of the water, well to left and right of the vessel’s sail, and decided that she was a submarine. He at once informed his commander, who ordered full speed, course to be altered, and the proper signals to be made. The sail then disappeared, and the submarine’s conning-tower became clearly visible, at a distance of something under seven miles.

At 6.7 the U-boat dived. The alarm had evidently been given, and it was not likely that she would be seen again on the surface; so at 6.10 Lieutenant-Commander Tippet slowed down. But at 6.13 the submarine unexpectedly broke surface less than three miles away on the port bow; her conning-tower, or part of it, could be seen moving fast through the water in a cloud of spray. She submerged again in 10 seconds, and Oracle’s course was at once altered to cut her off. At 6.15 the enemy reappeared once more. Her bows shot up out of the water at a steep angle, about half a mile ahead. Oracle’s course was instantly altered one point to port, telegraphs were put to full speed, and the forecastle gun was ordered to fire common shell at the conning-tower, which was then the only object visible. The U-boat just then lifted her stern out of water, showing a large vertical rudder on top of it, and the gunner’s point of aim was shifted accordingly. Four rounds were fired, but the target was a very difficult one and was not hit.

At 6.15 events happened and orders were given in very rapid succession. The U-boat was apparently not inclined to dive and risk paravanes or depth-charges. Lieutenant-Commander Tippet no sooner grasped this than he changed his tactics, and determined to ram. It was, of course, desirable to strike the enemy at right angles, and he endeavoured to con his ship so as to secure this position. He gave the orders ‘Prepare to ram’ and ‘Secure the depth-charge,’ and steadied the ship on a point midway between the submarine’s conning-tower (the top of which was just showing) and the stern, which was about four feet out of water. Then, at 27 knots, he drove Oracle straight at her.

The crash came with lightning speed. At 6.17 Oracle cut into the submarine’s back, exactly in the desired spot. It was, at the moment, inclined downwards at an angle of 15°, with the top of the conning-tower showing on the port side of the destroyer, and on the starboard side about three feet of the freeboard at the stern. The impact was heavy, and two officers on Oracle’s deck, who had not ‘prepared to ram’ by taking a completely prone position, were flung forward several feet. At the same moment an explosion was heard astern. It leaped into the Commander’s mind that this was either a paravane detonating, or his own depth-charge, which he had ordered to be secured, with the object of avoiding any chance of a disaster from the shock. It was, in fact, the depth-charge that exploded; but in the right way, and not by shock. The order had been misreported to the sub-lieutenant in charge of the after-quarters—as it reached him, it was ‘Let go the depth-charge.’ This he did personally and with great accuracy, a few seconds before ramming, so that when the explosion came, Oracle’s stern was well clear and no one was injured, except possibly the enemy.

Oracle, having cut through the U-boat, drifted on for about 150 yards. The bows of the dying submarine appeared momentarily above water, projecting some 3 feet at an angle of 45°. Then she sank, stern first, in 137 fathoms. For half a minute the surface showed a big bubbling brown disturbance, and in the oil patch appeared a quantity of debris, mainly large pieces of unpainted cork, whose curved shape suggested that they formed part of the lining of the hull. Oracle herself was not undamaged, as may be imagined; her bows were smashed from the water-line downwards, and a considerable quantity of naval stores were floating around her. She reported accordingly by searchlight to the Birkenhead, who could just be discerned at a distance of ten miles, and then returned to her base to refit.

For this fine piece of work Lieutenant-Commander Tippet received the D.S.O., and Acting-Lieutenant Butlin the D.S.C. Nine of the crew were also decorated or mentioned.