Submarine and Anti-submarine

by Sir Henry John Newbolt

‘U.C.-boats stealing in across the black and silver water.’

One of these was sighted by Lance, and killed by her, in the belief of the look-out who were watching from Miranda; but with that one we have nothing to do. Another, U.C. 26, is our concern, and about her we know all that there is to know. She was travelling on the surface about an hour after midnight—she had finished laying her mines, and was heading about east—when she suddenly sighted the dark form of an English destroyer within a dangerously short distance of her. At the same moment Milne—or rather the perfectly trained team of men who were the eyes, the brain and the heart of her—sighted their enemy. Lieutenant Leonard Pearson and leading signalman William Smith were the first, and their Commanding Officer, Commander V. L. A. Campbell, reports that it was only by reason of their exceptional vigilance that the attack could be so timed as to achieve success. The submarine, without losing a moment, dived—or rather attempted to dive. But Commander Campbell was as quick as his look-out, and his helmsman and engine-room watch were as quick as their Commander. A trace of hesitation—an order not caught, or misheard, or obeyed with less than absolute precision—and U.C. 26 would have been in hiding. But she was hardly sighted and reported before the fatal orders were sharply and clearly given. Commander Campbell’s voice had hardly reached his chief petty officer, Frederick Robinson, before the helm had brought the ship upon her altered course; and even as she turned Ernest Pike and John Reason down below were repeating the call for full speed to the chief engineer.

No greater tension can be imagined than that on board the two boats during the few interminable seconds of the onset. This submarine, at any rate, was not unconscious of her danger. She was wide awake, with a possible margin of one second between safety and destruction. Her deck was already awash; only her conning-tower was still clear above the surface when the destroyer struck her just before it, and cut clean through her hull. She took in water in an overwhelming rush, and went straight to the bottom. Scarcely had she reached it when the pressure of air, increasing as the water rose inside her, seemed to give her unhappy crew a last forlorn chance of escape. The Captain was in the engine-room, so that the exit by the conning-tower hatch, which would have been his prerogative, was left to the second officer, who succeeded in reaching the surface. Of the remaining 26 members of the crew, 7 got the engine-room hatch open, and 5 at least escaped by it; but only one of the whole number was picked up alive. He was a Dane from Schleswig-Holstein, and had been pressed for submarine service.

For this smart piece of work, in every way characteristic of our Destroyer Service, Commander V. L. A. Campbell received a bar to his D.S.O. Lieutenant L. Pearson was awarded the D.S.C., and the other four men already mentioned received the D.S.M.

The next case is also typical, being a patrol action; but it differs from the last in that the success was due to combined work by three destroyers, and not only by a single crew. There are also one or two exceptional circumstances which distinguish it from other actions of a similar kind—the presence of the Rear-Admiral commanding the local force, and the additional evidence which eventually settled the classification of the result.

It was on the morning of a day in March 1918 that a light-cruiser squadron was cruising in the North Sea; and at 9.25 A.M. three destroyers—Thruster, Commander A. D. Gibbs; Retriever, Commander E. W. Taylor; and Sturgeon, Lieutenant-Commander Henry Coombs—were ordered to take up a screening position ahead of the force. As they were in the act of moving to their stations an object was sighted, two points on Sturgeon’s port bow, and about one mile distant. A moment afterwards it was recognised as the conning-tower of a submarine. In order to understand what followed, it is necessary to have the positions clearly before the mind’s eye. Thruster and Retriever were immediately ahead of the squadron, to starboard and port respectively, and Sturgeon was ahead of the flotilla, in the act of crossing from starboard to port. She had just passed Thruster and was on her port bow, going towards a point ahead of Retriever, when she sighted the submarine on her own port bow and therefore almost enclosed in the triangle formed by the three destroyers. The U-boat dived immediately, and Sturgeon fired as she did so, but without effect—a late shot at a disappearing target. Lieutenant-Commander Coombs at once increased to full speed, and altered course to pass over the position. He arrived accurately, and in time to sight the track of the submarine as she tried to bolt through the only opening left to her, between her pursuer and the advancing Retriever. Her under-water speed was quite unequal to this effort, and in a moment Sturgeon was passing along her track and overhauling her. Another moment and the destroyer’s depth-charges, set to forty feet only, were dropped—one on either side of the track and a little ahead of it.

Sturgeon put her helm over in the usual way to avoid the explosion area, but turned again on hearing the detonations and had the satisfaction of seeing the U-boat shortly afterwards break surface with her bows up at an ominously high angle. She was by this time near closing Retriever, but Lieutenant-Commander Coombs considered her as still his hare. He turned again and raced for her like a greyhound. She tried to submerge, but could not get down quickly enough. Every one of the three destroyers could have rammed her, for as they came up to her in succession they could all see some thirty feet of her bows, with hydrophones and net-cutters, lying almost under them. But there was no need to take the risks of a concussion—this was a plain case for more depth-charges. Sturgeon, as she passed over a second time, dropped the remainder of hers. Then came Retriever an instant later, with two more; and she also dropped a Dan buoy, to mark the exact spot for Thruster, who was coming across from a greater distance. By the time Thruster arrived, she found the U-boat entirely submerged, but she methodically added her two depth-charges and both of them exploded within five yards of Retriever’s buoy, and probably not more from the submarine, which they followed down to eighty feet.

So far, no one had thought of doubting the success of this very well executed triple attack; and indeed the evidence was both strong and plentiful. The U-boat was clearly seen to have been damaged by the Sturgeon’s first two charges, for she reappeared almost at once and at an unmistakable angle. The six other charges dropped over her were none of them blind shots—Sturgeon and Retriever both saw their target plainly, and Thruster had the Dan buoy to guide her. The Rear-Admiral, in reporting the case, added that he was himself a witness of the attack and was of opinion that the submarine was destroyed. As corroborative evidence, he named the following articles, which were picked up near the spot: 1 wooden ladder, 1 red kisbie lifebuoy, 1 calcium float, and 1 steel buoy with fractured wire pendant attached. The lifebuoy and calcium float were not of British make, and the former was marked with letters and numbers not used in our Service. Finally, the area round the Dan buoy was thick with oil, which came gradually up during the two hours succeeding the chase.

Notwithstanding this evidence, and the opinion of so many competent witnesses, the Admiralty rule held good. There were no survivors or dead bodies, no debris which might not have come from the submarine’s deck, no certainty that she could not have righted herself and crawled home to the repairing yard. The report was marked ‘Probably sunk,’ and a letter of appreciation was directed to be forwarded to each of the three commanders, with an intimation that if any subsequent information should be received which would cause any revision of the classification, the case should be resubmitted. Less than seven weeks afterwards the ‘subsequent information’ was forthcoming and thereupon Lieutenant-Commander Coombs was awarded the D.S.O., and ‘Mentions’ were given to Commanders Taylor and Gibbs, as well as to two ratings from Sturgeon, and one rating each from Retriever and Thruster. So ends the plain story of what is, to the Destroyer Service, a day’s work in the ordinary routine. But any other Service in the world will tell you that there is nothing ordinary about it.