The Victory At Sea

by William Sowden Sims; Burton Jesse Hendrick

Luckenback to Nicholson Never!

11.01 Nicholson to Luckenback: Course south magnetic.

12.36 P.M. Nicholson to Conyngham: Submarine submerged 47.47 N 10.00 W at 11.20.

1.23 Conyngham to Nicholson: What became of steamer?

3.41 Nicholson to Admiral (at Queenstown) and Conyngham: Luckenback now joining convoy. Should be able to make port unassisted.

I have already said that a great part of the destroyer's duty was to rescue merchantmen that were being attacked by submarines: this Luckenback incident vividly illustrates this point. Had the submarine used its torpedo upon this vessel, it probably would have disposed of it summarily; but it was the part of wisdom for the submarine to economize in these weapons because they were so expensive and so comparatively scarce, and to use its guns whenever the opportunity offered. The Luckenback was armed, but the fact that the submarine's guns easily outranged hers made her armament useless. Thus all the German had to do in this case was to keep away at a safe distance and bombard the merchantman. The U-boat had been doing this for more than three hours when the destroyer reached the scene of operations; evidently the marksmanship was poor, for out of a great many shots fired by the submarine only about a dozen had hit the vessel. The Luckenback was on fire, a shell having set aflame her cargo of cotton; certain parts of the machinery had been damaged, but, in the main, the vessel was intact. The submarine was always heroic enough when it came to shelling defenceless merchantmen, but the appearance of a destroyer anywhere in her neighbourhood made her resort to the one secure road to safety—diving for protection. The Nicholson immediately trained her guns on the U-boat, which, on the second shot, disappeared under the water. The destroyer despatched men to the disabled vessel, the fire was extinguished, necessary repairs to the machinery were made, and in a few hours the Luckenback had become a member of the convoy.

Hardly had she joined the merchant ships and hardly had the Nicholson taken up her station on the flank when an event still more exciting took place. It was now late in the afternoon; the sea had quieted down; the whole atmosphere was one of peace; and there was not the slightest sign or suggestion of a hostile ship. The Orama, the British warship which had accompanied the convoy from its home port as ocean escort, had taken up her position as leading ship in the second column. Without the slightest warning a terrific explosion now took place on her starboard bow. There was no mystery as to what had happened; indeed, immediately after the explosion the wake of the torpedo appeared on the surface; there was no periscope in sight, yet it was clear, from the position of the wake, that the submarine had crept up to the side of the convoy and delivered its missile at close range. There was no confusion in the convoy or its escorting destroyers but there were scenes of great activity. Immediately after the explosion, a periscope appeared a few inches out of the water, stayed there only a second or two, and then disappeared. Brief as was this exposure, the keen eyes of the lookout and several sailors of the Conyngham, the nearest destroyer, had detected it; it disclosed the fact that the enemy was in the midst of the convoy itself, looking for other ships to torpedo. The Conyngham rang for full speed, and dashed for the location of the submarine. Her officers and men now saw more than the periscope; they saw the vessel itself. The water was very clear; as the Conyngham circled around the Orama her officers and men sighted a green, shining, cigar-shaped thing under the water not far from the starboard side. As she sped by, the destroyer dropped a depth charge almost directly on top of the object. After the waters had quieted down pieces of débris were seen floating upon the surface—boards, spars, and other miscellaneous wreckage, evidently scraps of the damaged deck of a submarine. All attempts to save the Orama proved fruitless: the destroyers stood by for five hours, taking off survivors, and making all possible efforts to salvage the ship, but at about ten o'clock that evening she disappeared under the water. In rescuing the survivors the seamanship displayed by the Conyngham was particularly praiseworthy. The little vessel was skilfully placed alongside the Orama and some three hundred men were taken off without accident or casualty while the ship was sinking.

One of the things that made the work of the destroyer such a thankless task was that only in the rarest cases was it possible to prove that she had destroyed the submarine. Only the actual capture of the enemy ship or some of its crew furnished irrefutable proof that the action had been successful. The appearance of oil on the surface after a depth charge attack was not necessarily convincing, for the submarine early learned the trick of pumping overboard a little oil after such an experience; in this way it hoped to persuade its pursuer that it had been sunk and thus induce it to abandon the chase. Even the appearance of wreckage, such as arose on the surface after this Conyngham attack, did not absolutely prove that the submarine had been destroyed. Yet, as this submarine was never heard of again, there is little doubt that Commander Johnson's depth charge performed its allotted task. The judgment of the British Government, which awarded him the C.M.G. for his achievement, may be accepted as final. The Admiralty citation for this decoration reads as follows:

"At 5.50 P.M. H.M.S. Orama was torpedoed in convoy. Conyngham went full speed, circled bow of Orama, saw submarine between lines of convoy, passed right over it so that it was plainly visible and dropped depth charge. Prompt and correct action of Commander Johnson saved more ships from being torpedoed and probably destroyed the submarine."

One of the greatest difficulties of convoy commanders, especially during the first months the system was in operation, was with "slacker" merchantmen; these were vessels which, for various reasons, fell behind the convoy, a tempting bait for the submarine. At this time certain of the merchant captains manifested an incurable obstinacy; they affected to regard the U-boats with contempt, and insisted rather on taking chances instead of playing the game. In such cases a destroyer would often have to leave the main division, go back several miles, and attempt to prod the straggler into joining the convoy, much as a shepherd dog attempts to force the laggard sheep to keep within the flock. In some cases, when the merchantman proved particularly obdurate, the destroyer would slyly drop a depth charge, near enough to give the backward vessel a considerable shaking up without doing her any injury; usually such a shock caused the merchantman to start full speed ahead to rejoin her convoy, firmly believing that a submarine was giving chase. In certain instances the merchantman fell behind the convoy because the machinery had broken down or because she had suffered other accidents. The submarines would follow for days in the track of convoys, looking for a straggler of this kind, just as a shark will follow a vessel in the hope that something will be thrown overboard; and for this reason one destroyer at least was often detached from the escorting division as a rear guard. In this connection we must keep in mind that at no time until the armistice was signed was any escort force strong enough to insure entire safety. If we had had destroyers enough to put a close screen, or even a double screen, around every convoy, there would have been almost no danger from submarines. The fact that all escort forces were very inadequate placed a very heavy responsibility upon the escort commanders, and made them think twice before detaching a destroyer in order to protect stragglers.