Monday 9 December 2019

The Air War in Malaya 1941-2

Blenheim Mk IVs formed the backbone of the bomber force
7 December 1941 was a disastrous day for the American Navy at Pearl Harbour. It heralded the beginning of Japanese military expansion, and it had been something that some had been watching and waiting for—despite one RAF intelligence officer, who believed that there was a rogue German fleet in the Pacific. He argued that the Japanese could not fly aircraft as they were carried as infants on their mother’s backs, and therefore lacked the necessary development in balance. Others were more astute and had been watching the Japanese with nervous eyes, believing the recent acquisition of south French Indo-China could be used as a springboard into British Malaya. Sir Brooke-Popham, the Air Officer Commanding, argued that the British should occupy Siam to deny it to the Japanese, or at least bomb the Siamese airfields that were being prepared for Japanese fighters. Intelligence officers estimated that, should the Japanese manage to get a foot hold, they would be able to land three or four divisions if they used the Siamese port of Signora, and be able to establish land-based aircraft to threaten Malaya. The British staff within the region had reached out to the local Dutch commanders to discuss mutual defence as early as the autumn of 1940, and a conference was held in Singapore to outline and finalise the basic plans the following February and a combined military plan was decided by April on defensive lines, though with the possibility of a limited offensive if needed or the opportunity rose
  The RAF in the Far East, much like in the Middle East, was spread thinly and armed with mostly obsolete aircraft, including Vildebeest torpedo bombers and the untried Buffalo fighter, and it had numerous inexperienced pilots and staff officers, with squadrons not knowing what their operational roles were or what training they should be doing until July 1941. New airfields had to be built to meet the strategical needs of war on the Malayan peninsula, a process which also met the quagmire of local government planning and shortages of both men and materials. The new airfields that were built had inadequate anti-air defences, camouflage, dispersal patterns and even the weapons for ground defence proved to be wholly inadequate for military facilities.


  Reinforcements from Britain were even less likely to go out to the Far East, despite pleas for modern aircraft and long-range bombers. A lack of spares added to the desperation, though petrol and bomb stocks were at ‘adequate’ levels by December 1941.


  The British GOC, Lt-Gen. Percival, had undertaken the responsibility of aiding the Dutch in defending Borneo and its oil fields at Miri and Serio, even if the rest of the island fell, which further watered down the number of aircraft available to Malaya.


  Further to that, Siam was going to prove an Achilles heel to the British position in Malaya, with their government leaning towards being pro-Japanese, and if they were intimidated into allowing a Japanese occupation, it would give the Japanese a springboard and airbases for their aircraft to attack. This was soon realised, with Japan intervening into the conflict between Siam and Pro-Vichy French Indo-China, which saw them occupy the southern region of the French colony and immediately establish a military presence. With Japanese aircraft flying reconnaissance over Singapore, Operation Matador was suggested, in which British units would strike in Siam and occupy the port of Singora, the only port in the area suitable for an invasion, but the military shortages and warnings from London not to provoke Japan into war meant that they missed their optimum window of opportunity. However, by the end of November, Percival was pushing for Matador to be put into action, despite the local representative of CIGS also warning that London would need consulted; that would take no less than thirty-six hours, but the Japanese bombers in south Indo-China were indicative of an attack against Siam rather than complete occupation of Indo-China, and there was a belief that Japan would act quickly before more Royal Navy units arrived at Singapore. The RAF in the region were moved to standby to support Matador, with the Blenheim-I-equipped 62 and 34 Squadrons to be ready to support the III Indian Corps, who were chalked for the advance with seventy-two hours notice, while No. 223 Group brought its headquarters to Kuala Lumpur.


  The war seemed imminent, with a report on 28 November from Saigon that showed that the Japanese were going to attempt a seaborne landing near the vital port of Signora between 30 November and 1 December: orders were released to attack any such troop convoy if it was seen, and Matador was advanced from seventy-two to twelve hours’ notice. Infuriatingly, London would not move on their position and insisted on consultation, despite the fact that Japan could be landing in thirty-three hours!


  The situation was deteriorating rapidly, to the point that the usual warning telegrams were to be abandoned and the local governor given free reign to react. The whole of the British forces were brought to second degree, which was defined as ‘International situation deteriorating utmost vigilance necessary; command to be in position to operate at short notice’. (1)


  On 7 December, the Japanese 25 Army and elements of the 15 Army were spotted in convoy by Flt Lt Ramshaw’s Hudson of the RAAF’s 1 Squadron, with further sightings through the day, one of which was chased off by Japanese float planes. Quick response was taken, with all forces ordered to full alert, and all bomber squadrons warned to be armed and ready. Two Hudsons were assigned to follow the fleet, and 36 Squadron’s aging Vildebeests were moved to Kota Bahru in preparation for an attack, while 62 Squadron brought under AHQ’s direct command—but the convoys vanished. Bad weather and nightfall caused them to be lost and the search widened into the Gulf of Siam, when a Catalina of 205 Squadron, flown by Fg Off. Edwin Beddell, spotted the fleet and, without sending a message with coordinates, instead dived to attack. Beddell soon found himself under attack by five Ki-27s who had flown from the secret base at Phu Kok and they very quickly destroyed the Catalina in a fire ball at 499 feet killing all of the crew.


  Despite continued sightings of warships, freighters, and tankers in the Gulf of Siam, Matador was abandoned in the fear that the Japanese were trying to provoke Britain into breaking neutrality or draw British forces away from Singapore. With no concrete photo reconnaissance, it was decided to wait for Japan to declare her intentions. With the Blenheims and other craft on standby, awaiting an attack order on Yamashita’s force before it landed between Singora and Patani and another force heading for Kota Bahru while bad weather kept the station’s aircraft grounded, the only help available to them was a message from the Chief of Staff to the Air Staff:
Our thoughts are with you at this fateful time and I send to all the air forces under your command best wishes of us all. We know the limits in numbers and in equipment which necessity has set to your resources but we are confident nevertheless, that your squadrons by their skill, gallantry and determination will overcome all handicaps and win enduring fame for themselves and their service. (2)


  On 8 December, the Japanese landed at Singora in the early hours of the morning and took the neutral port with ease. The landing at Kota Bahru, however, quickly drew attention as the first shells were fired, reconnaissance Hudsons were bombed up and briefed to attack at low level, and all available aircraft were ordered to attack at first light. 60 Squadron’s Blenheims were dispatched, 62 Squadron’s were ordered to prepare for a high-level bombing raid, and 34 Squadron, based at Alor Star, was bombed up with 500-lb SAP bombs and chalked up to attack Kauntan—a plan that was changed at the last minute to transports off Kehasin, before landing at Butterworth to refuel and prepare to go out again. The Hudsons scored first, taking off in awful weather in the dark, but managing to locate transports, who were supported by fierce flak. The largest of the transports took two direct hits and exploded, while Japanese soldiers were harassed as they disembarked onto the beachhead, and twenty-four barges were sunk, killing an estimated 1,000 soldiers. One Japanese cruiser advanced, giving the defenceless infantry covering fire and shooting down two of the Hudsons. At 5 a.m., 1 Squadron RAAF withdrew to rearm. By the time 60 Squadron arrived, they found that the Japanese ships had left the combat area with their mission complete; the Blenheims attacked the already damaged barges and abandoned landing craft, but then encountered Imperial Japanese Navy Zero fighters over the bloody sands. One of the Squadron’s navigators, Kingwell, described the scene:



Brewster Buffalo fighters were outclassed
We attacked by flights, each flight choosing its own target. The kill agreed in the squadron was one 8,000-ton ship and three fully laden craft… Two or three Blenheims decided to drop their bombs on the transport. We followed in behind and could see that she was red hot inside with bodies sprawled all over the decks. We decided not to waste our bombs on it. We dropped out bombs in a stick across them but by the time the twenty second fuses had burned, the craft had moved some yards away. We could see that the crews firing at us with automatic weapons. One of the boats overturned in the explosion which followed and the others must have been badly shaken. It was a neat bit of bombing but not particularly effective.(3)

One enemy fighter was claimed, but at the cost of one bomber unaccounted for. L4913, flown by Flt Lt Bowden, was shot down into the Gulf of Siam while attacking Japanese shipping. Bowden was

plucked from the sea to become the first Allied airman taken as a Prisoner of War by the Japanese, and the Blenheim flown by 60 Squadron’s Sqn Ldr George ‘Paddy’ Westrop-Bennett crashed onto the beach, killing him and his crew.


  At 3.45 a.m., the radar station at Mersing picked up incoming aircraft which quickly turned for Singapore; the civil authorities were warned, the RAF’s fighters were advised to attack at first light, and the AA guns ordered to fire. At 4.08 a.m., the bombs began to fall on the city for the first time, killing sixty-one and injuring twice as many. Seletar Airfield was also bombed, with three men killed and facilities such as the sanitary annexe and cook house destroyed, while at Tengah Airfield the runway was hit, leaving twenty-two craters and damaging three of 34 Squadron’s aircraft. Two hours later, at 6.34 a.m., nine of 34 Squadron’s surviving Mark IVs took off, leaving the three bomb-damaged aircraft behind. The flight carried 500-lb GP bombs and similarly hit the barges and strafed the beach, but they were attacked by Zeros, who quickly demonstrated their superiority, causing one aircraft to crash-land and forcing another down at Maching. The squadron reformed to head for Butterworth as planned, but were intercepted by another fighter patrol, who claimed another bomber for the cost of one of their own. The Blenheim fighters of 27 Squadron fared little better and, having returned to their airfield, found it had been heavily bombed.


  The only relatively unscathed Blenheim attack of the day was 62 Squadron’s high-level attack. On arriving over the beach, the formation of eleven bombers could see no Japanese ships and so set off on a south-easterly course to find them; they eventually found a force of fifteen ships, including barges carrying troops, and attacked from 8,000 feet, but could not observe any results due to low cloud. Despite flak and fighter cover from the Japanese 11th Regiment, all of the eleven Blenheims returned to Alor Star undamaged. On returning, the squadron began rearming and refuelling, but, at 10.45 a.m., they were attacked by high-level bombers, who dropped 150-lb high explosive and incendiary bombs from 13,000 feet, well beyond the range of the 3-inch anti-aircraft gun’s range, killing seven men and destroying four Blenheims, with a further five buildings damaged and fuel dumps left aflame.
  The Japanese had also began flying to the newly acquired airfields in Siam, where they had gained fuel and ammunition, and they prepared to attack and destroy the RAF in large numbers while they were on the ground, following the successful bombing of the Singapore fields that morning and the attacks on the FAA’s fields at Machang and Gong Kedah. Zero fighters and Kawasaki Ki-10 Type 95s attacked Kota Bahru over an eight-hour period, starting at 9:00 a.m., strafing AA posts, aircraft, and personnel—diving down from 7,000 feet to treetop level and hampering operations from the field. Sungei Patan fighter station, which suffered from a lack of hangers and boggy ground that meant that the aircraft could not be dispersed properly, also came under attack from high-level bombers, who killed five, set fire to a petrol dump, and struck the Station HQ. The surviving aircraft were withdrawn to Butterworth, which, as 34 Squadron were to find out on their arrival, was far from ideal to operate from. On arrival, the Blenheims found that there were no refuelling trucks or hoists with which to arm the bombers with 500-lb bombs, leaving armourers to lift 250-lb bombs by hand. When oil tankers finally arrived, they only had 90 octane, which was inadequate, as the bombers required 100 octane. When the higher-grade fuel was located, it was only available from oil drums, which had to be hand-pumped into the aircraft. The station commander was a junior accountant officer, and his day continued to get worse, as when the second flight of 34’s Blenheims arrived, they were being pursued by Japanese fighters, who proceeded to shoot up the airfield and shopt the undercarriage out from underneath one of the landing bombers, causing it to crash-land. When the Japanese finally withdrew, they left the squadron peppered, with only two aircraft left serviceable. The field was soon crowded with the surviving aircraft—seven Blenheim fighters of 27 Squadron and eight Buffalos of 21 Squadron—only to be attacked again, leaving only three of each fighter aircraft serviceable. The Australian airmen left the field that night to sleep two miles away from the target area, against the orders of their station commander.


  Japanese troops had managed to get into the hinterland, but there werer unsubstantiated rumours that further landings were being made up the coast. After a failed attempt to destroy the single branch railway bridge at Goluk River, it was decided by the station commander, Noble, without consultation with the local army commander, Brigadier Keys, to withdraw the aircraft to Kuantan. Noble went to investigate rumours of Japanese troops on the perimeter, and so was not present when an order from AHQ arrived to demolish the base to deny it to the enemy. He was most surprised to find his operations room, containing the logs and diaries, aflame on his return! By 7:00 p.m., all serviceable Hudsons and personnel had evacuated by air and motor transport.


AVM Brooke-Popham
  A photo reconnaissance Beaufort returned to base full of holes and so badly damaged it burst into flames, but its valuable cargo survived, and by 3:30 p.m., the RAF had confirmed that the Kota Bahru landing had been a diversion, and that Yamashita had achieved his objective and taken Singora’s port facility unopposed. It was imperative that the RAF attacked as soon as possible to destroy the newly achieved airfields while they still had the strength to do so, having lost nine of the eighty-seven aircraft of all types engaged on the first day. In total the RAF lost of sixty aircraft out of 110 to bombing and enemy fighters, with two airfields abandoned and two badly damaged. Lt General Percival summed it up in his post-war book, stating:

The performance of Japanese aircraft of all types and the accuracy of their bombing came as an unpleasant surprise. By the evening of the eighth our own air force had already been seriously weakened.(4)


  Air Vice-Marshal Brooke-Popham signalled to the Chiefs of Staff that he needed the maximum number of aircraft that could be sent, requesting that long-range bombers and night fighters be dispatched as soon as possible, warning that ‘Should Japan gain air superiority the situation would be very difficult.’ However, the official history summed up the situation; ‘Japan was not to achieve air superiority in the near future—rather she had grasped it that very day.’ (5)


  The following day, the remains of the RAF had to move quickly with the clearing and activation of southern airfields to get what was left to relative safety. The airfield’s approaches had to cleared of trees, drainage readying and most importantly fuel and bomb stores had to be delivered to the fields—they could not afford a repeat of Butterworth from the previous day.


  With enemy air superiority being the deciding factor, it was decided that the Blenheims would have to launch attacks on the enemy’s airfields as soon as possible, especially in the light that NORGROUP could only muster a small fighter defence. However the implementation of the raid was not carried out with any haste, as orders were not passed to Tengah until 9.39 a.m., for six Blenheims (three from 34, armed with 500-lb bombs, and three from 60, armed with 250-lb bombs) to be ready for a take off between 11–12 p.m., with a fighter escort collected at Butterworth arriving over the target at around 4 p.m. Butterworth was to launch a simultaneous attack using the maximum force of Blenheims available on Signora port facilities and, if successful and possible, then mount a second attack.


  There were fourteen of the superior Blenheim IVs of 34 Squadron at Tengah Airfield, compared to the four Mk Is of 60 Squadron. The former aircraft were preferred for the raid, but half of the force were to be crewed by 60 Squadron’s men; the crews were exhausted and had not slept properly in three days, and now 60 Squadron’s crews were to fly unfamiliar aircraft. Nevertheless, six bombers took off an hour late at 12.45 p.m. and flew to Butterworth to collect their escort, which consisted of two Blenheim night fighters. The deficiency on the number of fighter aircraft available at Butterworth, as well as the more pressing calls to defend the airfield and provide III Indian Corps with tactical reconnaissance, meant that was all that could be spared, and even then only for a short while—they soon peeled away, leaving the six bombers to go it alone. On arriving at the target, they were met by heavy flak and a swarm of fifty fighters. which caused them to have to take ‘violent evasive action’, but bombs were seen to land among a small group of fighters on the ground. The raid was a costly one though, as half the formation was destroyed, with two of the crews that were lost coming from 60 Squadron: Flt Lt Joseph Dobson’s aircraft came down in a fatal jungle crash, and Johnstone’s was captured by the Japanese in the jungle.


  The second raid was even more disastrous, with the formation of bombers being caught on the ground, ready to take off, by a Japanese air raid with fighter strafing runs and falling bombs taking a heavy toll. Sqn Ldr Arthur Scarf of 62 Squadron, whose aircraft was already airborne, was undamaged, and he courageously went on the mission alone, where he was attacked by fighters but still managed to bomb the target. Despite a running gun battle all the way to the Malayan border, the Blenheim stayed in the air, but force-landed near Alor Star, where the true extent of Scarf’s wounds were revealed. The 28-year-old officer had suffered a shattered left arm and a gaping hole in his back, but had brought his crew back uninjured. Scarf was taken to the hospital and, despite the offer of a blood transfusion from his wife, who was a nurse at the hospital, he died from his injuries before the day was out. Post-war, Scarf was awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross while his crew, made up of Sgt Calder and Sgt Rich, received a DFM and a posthumous mention in dispatches in 1943 respectively. Butterworth was attacked again that evening with ‘aircraft… being picked off one by one on the ground.’


  The disastrous first daylight raids prompted AHQ to rule that no further daylight raids were to be carried out until fighter escorts could be provided, but unfortunately these orders were academic: the fighters of 34 and 27 Squadrons and RAAF 21 Squadron had no serviceable aircraft, and neither did 62 Squadron, whose Blenheims were likewise destroyed on the ground. The dire state of the theatre was also playing on the mind of the station commander at Kuantan, who requested an evacuation of the field on 8 December; this was eventually accepted and, on the following day, the majority of aircraft (except for Hudsons and a flight of twelve Vildebeests) were evacuated, with the Blenheims of 60 Squadron withdrawn to Singapore itself. It was somewhat fortuitous, as the Japanese attacked the airfield that lunchtime, destroying four Hudsons, a Vildebeest, a powerhouse, and a bomb dump, with other damage to runways and other aircraft that caused the remaining aircraft to be withdrawn as well. The ground crews of the squadrons left by truck without official orders or their officers, before meeting with 1 Squadron RAAF’s ground crew from Kota Bahru. Finding no one in charge, they were taken over by their commanding officer, who took the 466-strong party to Jerautut, where they were put on a train that would send airmen to Singapore and Station Headquarters staff to Kuala Lumpur.


  Butterworth was likewise abandoned on 10 December, followed by Alor Star, where the last two remaining Blenheims of 62 Squadron were flown out to Singapore while ground personnel were sent to Taiping in order to hopefully reform the squadron at a later date. A further three Blenheim IVs of 34 Squadron and one solitary night fighter flew back to Singapore from Butterworth to add to the small force growing there. The airfields at Penanag was also demolished. Plans were made to demolish Kuala Ketil and Labok Klap using unused bombs due to a lack of demolitions equipment, but this was vetoed as the continual explosions and smoke was worrying the already shaken army forces, who feared that the Japanese had got past them—leaving RAF details to demolish the station’s buildings by hand!


  One flight of 34 Squadron advanced from Singapore for an early morning reconnaissance from Kuantan as the base was evacuated of all other craft. Despite rumours of a Japanese landing on the coast nearby (which was attended by Vildebeests and Hudsons, who found next to nothing), Kuantan was still vaguely operational, with one grass runway, stocks of fuel, and some ordinance, but no wireless. The station’s commander was ordered to stand fast with three officers and twelve men and await further orders, something that must have sounded quite ominous, considering the proximity of the Japanese and the unsupported army getting pushed back. The three Blenheims had been assigned to the important mission of scouting ahead and around the Royal Navy Force Z, which was centred on HMS Prince of Wales and the battlecruiser Repulse, who, under the flag of Admiral Tom Phillips, were to launch a lightening raid on Signora. The previous day’s abortive raids were supposed to have reduced the enemy’s air capability, as was a proposed raid on Indo-China by the USAF from the Philippines, but this never happened. Phillips was informed of movements sighted by the Blenheims and other aircraft, as well as of the lack of fighters and bomber support available from the RAF, who were now reduced to twelve Blenheims, twelve Vildebeests, and six to eight Buffalo fighters in the Northern sector, with only a couple of bases to operate from. Phillips dismissed the concerns, believing that the Japanese air force would be able to do little against him if he struck fast. It was a decision that cost him both capital ships and his life.


  On 11 December, a flight of six of 34 Squadron’s Blenheims were to take part in an intricate plan to bomb Signora at night, with refuelling and rearming positions prepared at Ipoh and Taipang. However, before the launch time, news reached AHQ that neither field could be of much assistance, so the bombers were alerted and told to spend the minimum amount of time over the target. The first aircraft to take off collided with the hill top at Tanjong Gul at 2 a.m., the second failed to take off, and the third circled Seletar Airfield for an hour and a half. The next three reached and bombed the target through cloud, before returning safely to Ipoh and Kluang by daybreak.


  The RAF’s scattered forces were no longer able to mount any further offensives and, with the decimation of airfields, AHQ could do little more than relegate its force to reconnaissance duties; this was carried out by the Hudsons, Buffalos, Catalinas, three warship-mounted Supermarine Walruses, and Dutch aircraft, while the Blenheim force tried to reorganise. On 14 December, 60 Squadron’s survivors were sent to Burma to reform and rearm with new aircraft from the west, leaving their Mark Is behind to shore up 34 Squadron while AHQ looked at converting Vildebeests into bombers and Wirraways into dive bombers. A Japanese fleet consisting of 140 ships was spotted on a south-south-westerly course from Indo-China, including 100 transports, two aircraft carriers, and several destroyers. Fearing the force was heading for Singapore to attack on her poorly defended east side, the RAF assembled a strike force of sixty aircraft, including nine Blenheim IVs armed with two 500-lb SAP, four Mark Is with four 250-lb SAPs, and five Mark Is with four 250-lb general purpose bombs based at Tengah, supporting twenty-two Vildebeests, seven Hudsons, and fifteen Dutch Glen Martins. However, at daybreak on 16 December the force could not be found on the predicted course, having instead attacked Borneo.


  The Anglo-Indian army was faced with a very aggressive enemy, equipped with twenty light tanks, and with air cover that left them struggling to hold ground. In ideal circumstances, the RAF would have been able to offer some support to them or the navy, but the earlier raids on airfields and losses during the counter attacks had neutered their strike force, and yet again weary soldiers found themselves looking to the skies and muttering ‘Where is the RAF?’ Furthermore, the Air Staff favoured the Blenheim to strike Signora Port and troop concentrations in the rear, rather than actively taking part in fighting over the front, and they acknowledged there was little, if anything, they could do to the Japanese-held airfields. This, however, was blocked by the GOC, with Percival believing that hitting airfields would give the RAF breathing room to attack shipping and aid the army. Those attacks would not come to pass though, as Air Marshal Brooke-Popham reported to the Air Ministry that ‘he was unable to deliver the scale of attack anticipated against enemy airfields and shipping because the northern airfields were untenable.’(6)


  Percival continued to meddle directly in the RAF’s plans, ignoring the advice and statements of officers who knew better, by ordering them to make supporting the 11th Indian Division as their top priority, and instructing Brooke-Popham that his priorities were in the Kedah region. The Air Marshal knew, however, that he did not have the infrastructure or fighters to escort the bombers, without whom there would soon be none left. Indeed, there were no fighters available to defend Penang’s port on 10 December or to be used for tactical reconnaissance. It was a situation that required the barrel to be thoroughly scraped and, despite pooling Buffalos at Ipoh Airfield, the Japanese offensive continued and the airfield was attacked, which reduced it to three operational aircraft, while Sungei Patani airfield had to be evacuated as the Japanese were believed to be seventeen hours away. On 19 December, Penang fell.


  The airfields at Alor Star and Sungei Patani were destroyed on 16 December by the RAF; Kuantan followed two days later, with personnel being evacuated two days after that. Other civilian fields fell to the Japanese, including the half-destroyed Sungei Patani, where a large petrol dump was captured intact due to a ‘lack of time and the hostility of the enemy.’ Ipoh followed on 18 December, with only three operational Buffalos, and steps were immediately made to destroy excess fuel, despite an attempt by an MVAF Rapide flying in spares to try and shore up the defences. Japanese air raids soon claimed the Rapide. As many spares as could be saved were placed on trains and sent to Sungei Besi at Kuala Lumpur, where Norgroup re-established its headquarters. Within days, the shortages of aircraft effectively meant that Norgroup ceased to exist, with its remaining fighter aircraft put under the control of the Station Commander at Kuala Lumpur, while everyone else was withdrawn to Singapore.


  A last roll of the dice was attempted with the only bombers available, and three of 34 Squadron’s
General Percival (far right) Surrenders Singapore
Mark IVs were sent to attack Sungei Patani. They took off from Tengah individually without escort and set off into the night, but were forced to return due to bad weather. The raid was attempted again on 23 December, and they reached the target but could not see their results through the dark and cloud. AHQ decided that further night operations would have to be carried out from 27 December, when the full moon would aid their bomb aimers.


  Despite the bravery of the Buffalo fighters at Kuala Lumpur, the Japanese tenacity proved too much, and AHQ ordered the withdrawal and destruction of all the mainland airfields and their stores, including Ipoh, on 22 December. Soldiers of III Corps managed to save 300 drums of irreplaceable aviation fuel, and disposed of what could not be saved before destroying the base.


  The air war in Malaya was very reminiscent of the RAF’s experiences in France and Europe, but without the luxury of reinforcements. The crews of the Blenheim bombers—and, indeed, the other aircraft—fought bravely against extremely tough odds, but the deck had been stacked against them before it had even begun. Poor maintenance of aircraft seriously affected availability of all types, while poor early warning systems and airfield defences left the aircraft very vulnerable to the inevitable air attacks by an exceptionally numerate enemy. The inadequacies of the Buffalo fighters were a contributing factor, but the biggest was the disregarding of information obtained by the Chinese and passed onto the RAF about the capabilities of the Zero fighter. With their forces in withdrawal and their aircraft destroyed, airmen were formed into scratch infantry detachments to help the beleaguered army, and some of 62 Squadron traded their Blenheims for armoured cars and, led by Squadron Leader Boxell, joined ‘C’Company of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in battling the Japanese on the Grik road, and fell back to avoid being encircled. The situation was dire and, where possible, the army fell back to Singapore. The War Office looked at the very real possibility that Singapore would fall soon too.
 


1.   ​RAF Historical branch War in the Far East Vol II p. 1


2.​Ibid. p.8

3.​Young, A. J. & Warne D. W Sixty Squadron, (London, EP,  1967) p. 140




4.​Percival, A. E., The war in Malaya, (London, Eyre & Spotswood, 1949) p.114


5.​RAF Historical Branch, War in the Far East Vol II p.21


6.​Ibid. p.52


 


 

Friday 2 August 2019

An Account of the Dardenelles raid 18th March 1915

A Letter written by Commodore Roger Keyes his wife dated 21st March 1915 detailing some of the events of the raid on the Dardenelles' forts on the 18th March 1915.


Roger Keyes in 1918
So much has happened since I last wrote it is hard to know where to begin... I don’t know how much
the Admiralty will tell, but we had cruel luck at a moment when we had the forts beat and should have been in a position to commence sweeping the mine field beneath the Narrows. The Turks are sure to claim that they sank 3 or 4 if not more ships, and the Admiralty must admit the loss of 3 so there can be no harm in writing about it. The light for the bombardment at the forts at the Narrows is bad until about 10:30 a.m. - it is an awful pity they can’t start much earlier, say daylight, as 4 hours are wasted, and we do want a long day so badly. The night of the 17th-18th we had mine sweepers, British and French, and Picket boats in the area our ships were to go into, and they reported in the early morning that all was clear so we went in the Agamemnon, Lord Nelson, Queen Elizabeth and inflexible, proceeded by s pair of destroyers sweeping. When we arrived about 16,000 yards from the forts at the Narrows we formed a line abreast in order of Q.E., Agamemnon, Lord N., and Inflexible.

The French squadron took up position about 2000 yards astern of us ready to close the forts when required - the idea being that we would bombard the forts at the Narrows at long range and when they were well hammered the older ships would close range under cover of our fire.

On each flank which we (ie. the 4 modern ships) were bombarding an old British battleship was stationed to fire on the concealed howitzer and other batteries on the hills overlooking the straits - Prince George our side (Gallipoli) and Triumph on the Asiatic shore.

These guns cannot be touched - or the majority of them, and the are very annoying. The only thing is, as their fire is indirect, if one moves about one can avoid a good deal - but of course this rather interferes with accurate shooting so we stay still until it gets too hot.

It is very obvious that all the defences are run by Germans. The system of fire is wonderfully good and they fire salvoes. Our friends dropped salvoes if 3 all around us, they came down from heaven very steep and do a good deal of damage. The field guns which are concealed about direct all their ttention to killing people with shrapnel in our control positions - and our experts had many close shaves - one shell hit the wireless and some digging and soars and sent a shower if dirt and stuff through the suit in the conning tower, a good deal got in my eyes which brother-in-law removed. It is a funny small world - who would have imagined Boysie and I would find ourselves in the Conning tower of the Queen Elizabeth during the attack on the Dardanelles. The Inflexible on the other shore had the same attentions but suffered more severely, her bridge caught on fire and blazed. Then a shell hit the fire control top killing or wounding everyone in it - but the did not know this in the Conning tower for a long time, and when they did know they couldn’t get up to help owing to the raging fire at the foot of the mast so they got almost cooked poor fellows. Vermeer was very badly wounded and another lieutenant would have lost a leg and an arm had he lived. The Inflexible had to go out for a bit go get the ship before the wind in order to take the smoke and flames away from the mast. The Dr. said he could have saved them both but while he was dressing them a shell hit the armour outside the dressing station and this made Verner wince and started hemorrhage again. Soon after that she struck a mine and the tremendous explosion shook the ship fore and aft, caused then such shock that in both cases the haemorrhages started again. They both died that evening. Many were killed by the mine explosion. She had 3 officers and 29 men killed ? Wounded. We were very lucky and had no casualties. The ship is so well armoured and the orders in all ships are very strict as to taking cover - our worst hole was s big one on the deck which wrecked the gun room. I have got in rather too fast.

At about 12(noon), the gifts bring silent, the French were ordered to close in to engage at close range. They were gallantly led by Guépratte. At about 2:39 they were ordered to withdraw to allow their reliefs to come in - the French squadron consisted of Suffrrn, Gaulois, Charlemagne and Bouvet. They had done very well but they, I mean the ships, not personnel, can’t stand a knocking about and they are rather a source of anxiety. The Prince George and Triumpg, had closed to support, then withdrew with the Frenchmen - when doing d, and practically passing through our kind, the Bouvet is seen to be on fire aft - then a tremendous explosion occurred and still going fast turned turtle and foundered. It would be impossible to imagine anything happen more quickly. It was a tragedy, all our ships near sent boats. Luckily every ship had a picket boat near her seeking for floating mines, and they and our destroyer, Wear, which is my charger, dashed off to try and save life, but everyone being at their action stations they had no time to come up and only a few officers and men were saved, 5 officers and 30 men out of about 730. (We have since heard that another 31 men were out of the ship) It was a tragedy.

In the meantime our division of ships and supporting ships moved up as if nothing had happened. The forts which had been temporarily silenced then opened again and a brisk action started once more - by 4 pm they were practically silenced. The mine sweepers has been ordered in but they did not do well and I disparities of ever getting them to face it properly. We couldn’t spare volunteers in any numbers as all ships were engaged. I am very sleepy as my writing shows - haven’t had much sleep lately it is 12:30. All my love. Are we down hearted? No but I think I was one of the very few who were not that evening - I do believe I am best at these times! And I am spoiling to have at it again. Only this time it must be an onslaught on the minefield - the forts we can always dominate - but the mine field is the devil and am organising if. I hate bit leading as I am asking people to do a lot and they will. I am sending 115 trawler men and skippers home - and manning the trawlers with naval officers and men volunteers- a military force in fact. I am having all the destroyers fitted with sweeps and organising a “picket boat” flotilla. Eva darling it’s a big thing. This is all anticipation. I will return to my story. I must go to bed...

Friday 12 July 2019

U-boats off the Dardenelles and the loss of Triumph and Majestic

Admiral Haus
In early 1915 with the growing threat from the Entente navy off the coast of Turkey and a concern for the safety of the Dardanelle straits the Ottoman Empire asked for help from her Allies. The Turkish fleet did not have the numbers to defeat the Entente Allies in a fleet engagement nor the quality of vessels. Germany was unable to send any further surface vessels as it would affect the delicate balance of ships in the North Sea and to send a small force through the British blockade would more than likely see it destroyed. Beyond this the overseas German naval units had already been destroyed with only the light cruisers Dresden and Königsberg cornered by the Royal Navy in Tierra del feugo and Rufiji River respectively. 

  The burden passed to the Austro-Hungarian Empire and there was a certain amount of pressure for the Austrian fleet to sail for Constantinople and operate from there. This was of course unacceptable to the Austro-Hungarian Admiralty with several logistical concerns including that the Ottomans did not have the facilities to house or maintain such a fleet as well as the danger to the force as it sailed across the Mediterranean and, perhaps most important of all, leaving the Austro-Hungarian seaboard defenceless! Admiral Haus also believed that the time would come that war would come between Austro-Hungary and Italy and his fleet would be needed in the Adriatic.

   Submarines were the best solution to the problem and Germany again pushed Austria to send two of their submarines, U-3 and U-4, to Constantinople and even offered to send German Sailors to crew them and two of their UB class submarines as compensation. By the 4 March Grand Admiral Tirpitz noted that they had received no response from Vienna which was a “story characteristic of the Austrians” (1) and Germany took steps to take control of the situation itself.

Submarines in the pre-war Austro-Hungarian fleet were seen as a bit of a novelty and, much like the rest of the world, naval planners preferred the more obvious power of surface ships in particular the Tegetthoff dreadnought. The merits of submarines had attracted some interest and the Dual Monarchy had several short range vessels in their possession which were perfectly suited for their needs, namely fighting their Adriatic rival Italy. As war with Britain and France loomed they turned to Germany to build them five longer range craft so that they could begin to menace the Mediterranean shipping lanes. War came before those larger craft were completed and the Austro-Hungarians were forced to sell their new vessels to the German Navy believing that none of the craft would survive running the British blockade.

   Though Admiral Haus was hesitant in responding to the Germans there were moves to test their U-boats ability and on the 2 April Lineneschiffsleutnant Georg von Trapp departed Cattaro to attempt to raid the French fleet at Corfu. After an eighty five hour journey that saw an unsuccessful attack on a Victor Hugo class armoured cruiser all but two of the UB-5s crew had come down with sickness caused by cramped conditions and bad air. The Admiralty ruled the journey too dangerous for their smaller craft and only the U-12, with its range of 700 miles, was considered as the only vessel capable of going to Turkey.

   Haus finally replied to Germany that the journey was too dangerous, that he lacked sufficient spare vessels, their own priorities in fighting the French blockade of the Adriatic and that Austro-Hungary would have been happy to help if their five longer range U-boats had been delivered. He did offer the olive branch that as soon as he was able to send support he would which gave his allies assurance that Austria would act but when he was ready and not before.

   Germany had to take action. Three UB class U-boats were dispatched to Pola in April originally to replace the Austro-Hungarian U-boats sent to Turkey but now brought back under German control. Kapitänleutnant Hans Adam oversaw the arrival of each U-boat in fifteen pieces on eight railway flatbed trucks and their reassembly. From their dismantling to commissioning it took six long weeks and as soon as UB-3, UB-7 and UB-8 were made operational with their German crews they were dispatched for the Ottoman Empire.

The UB class U-boats were a small coastal vessel that had been designed to be broken down and transported so they could be moved forward and operate from captured Belgian bases in the shallow approaches of the Belgian coast. The “tin tadpoles” were considered underpowered and they struggled to chase down steamers whilst surfaced with only 6.47 knots and lacked a submerged durability but they were an expedient solution.

   The first vessel to leave was UB-8 which had been temporarily commissioned into the Austro-Hungarian Navy but reclaimed. On the 2 May the U-boat was towed by the light cruiser Novara through the Adriatic but the cruise was cut short when they were spotted by a French vessel and the Austrian cruiser cut the towline and headed for home at speed. Kapitänleutnant von Voight took his submarine beneath the waves and carried on towards Ottoman territory but the journey was not without incident. Two days after being left by the Novara the stern of the U-boat dropped into the sea violently throwing the watch officer, helmsman and a lookout into the sea and water began pouring through the Conning tower’s hatch. Von Voight acted quickly to save his sinking vessel by ordering the control room sealed and the tanks flooded with compromised air. Once on the surface they circled around to pick up their lost crewmen, but sadly the lookout had drowned.

   Although it had been in the Adriatic longest the UB-7 had developed a leak and so was delayed in leaving until the night of the 15/16 May under tow from the destroyer Triglav as far as the Ionian Islands before being released. The UB-3 was launched on the 23 May and sailed toward the island of Kékira by the Novara and was due to arrive on the 28 May but she never arrived disappearing into the blue abyss of the Mediterranean.

   Another more dangerous predator arrived in Cattaro on 13 May. The U-19 class U-21 under Kapitänleutnant Otto Hersing had left Kiel on 25 April and successfully ran the British blockade. On the 3 May whilst off Cape Finisterre she was resupplied by the steamer SS Marzala but the crude oil she brought was next to useless. Although she passed the strait of Gibraltar unseen on 9 May they were spotted by a steamer and had to avoid French destroyers south of Sicily on the 11 May. Whilst the U-21 underwent a week long overhaul the news of her arrival spread through the Mediterranean.

   On Saturday 15th May the Nottingham Daily express ran an article proclaiming the existence of German Submarines in the Mediterranean declaring it had caused a certain commotion in the Greek shipping community and that there was a call for all Greek and Latin sailors to forget all past rivalries “when the peaceful exploitation of the Mediterranean is threatened since there is no place for Huns here.” The Royal Navy also offered a bounty to anyone who destroyed one of the German vessels. Petty Officer Cowie aboard HMS Majestic remarked that the news was:

discomforting… that a submarine was on its way from Germany to add variety to the conflict and to carry war into the three elements. It wasn’t nice to contemplate the arrival of this new visitor with a large fleet like ours for a target. (2)

Commodore Roger Keyes wrote to his wife on the 10th May from HMS Queen Elizabeth and said:

There is one, probably two big German submarines on the way through the Mediteranean. One has been sighted twice, they, or it, ought to arrive here in a few days which will add enormously to our difficulties which Heaven knows are great enough! It is a great thing to possess a confident optimistic spirit! Of course it worries the Admiral horribly. We are doing our best to deal with it – and I only hope will succeed. This ship is our chief concern – and the transports full of wounded not under Red Cross. (3)

   Admiral de Robeck’s fleet had also suffered some rearrangement with HMS Queen Elizabeth leaving the area as had a squadron under Rear Admiral Thursby consisting of the battleships HMS Queen, Prince of Wales, Implacable and London which arrived at Taranto on the 27 May whilst the light cruisers Dartmouth, Amethyst, Dublin and Sapphire had already arrived in Brindisi to assist the Italians in any operations against Austro-Hungary. In return HMS Exmouth and Venerable had arrived from the Belgian coast and a request was made for HMS Chatham and Cornwall to come up from German East Africa. The French navy also brought its battleship complement up to six as well as the older cruisers Dupleix, Bruix and Kléber. The tension in the North Sea meant that no further reinforcement of cruisers or destroyers was available from home and de Robeck would have to make do with what he had. A scheme to try and block the Narrows was attempted but they found the current so strong that it had to be abandoned.

   The U-21 was a serious threat to the Royal Naval hegemony in the region. A U-19 class submarine
Otto Hersing
was bigger and faster than the UB class with a top speed of 15.4 knots on the surface and 9.5 knots submerged as well four torpedo tubes armed with six torpedoes and an 88mm deck gun. As part of the III Flotilla and under the command of Hersing the U-21 had been the first submarine ever to sink a ship with a self-propelled torpedo. On the 5 September 1914 when he sank HMS Pathfinder with a single torpedo with the resulting explosion engulfing the vessel in a giant blast off the Isle of May. Hersing then led a his U-boat on a successful campaign against the Allied Merchant shipping in the North sea catching and sinking the Malachite and Primo on the 14 and 15 November following the Cruiser rules and was the first vessel to destroy a merchant ship in the restricted U-boat war. By the time they had arrived in the Adriatic the 29 year old Alsatian was responsible for sinking six vessels totaling 8941 tons.

      The Ottoman Army had received reinforcements in the form of the Fifth Army Corps consisting of four divisions as well as various obsolete artillery pieces to augment the equipment they already had. On the 2 May the 2nd Division arrived from Constantinople with Colonel von Landers deploying them in the rear of the Ari Burnu front to try and throwback the enemy. Corbett’s official Naval history suggests that an attack was planned to act in concert with the U-boats arrival in the straits. The Anzacs would be thrown back under the weight of numbers whilst their seaborne artillery would be in disarray as the U-boats attacked. On the 18th May the Ottoman forces attacked but the Allies not only out gunned them, they knew they were coming due to aerial reconnaissance. The battleships Canopus, Triumph, Vengeance and the cruiser Baccahnte provided steady fire support but due to the closeness of the fighting could only aim at the enemy’s artillery emplacements and lines of reinforcement for fear of hitting their own men. The Triumph also had to fire shots at an Ottoman vessel attempting to attack from the Narrows. Despite heavy and determined assault the attack petered out with a lack of serious heavy artillery and ammunition at the cost of 3000 men killed and 7000 wounded. No U-boats had arrived in support of the attack.  

On 20 May U-21 began her uneventful journey to the Dardenelles. The British and French Navies had not ignored the rumours and reports of the arrival of U-boats in the region and had been expecting them for quite some time. On 22 May there was a submarine warning causing a slight panic. All transport ships and vessels without torpedo net defences were ordered to raise steam and leave the area for Mudros. A thorough search of the area found no U-boat and the sighting was chalked up to the body of a dead mule in the water.

   De Robeck was torn by his wish to protect his vessels and crews from harm and his duty to provide fire support to the army who were short on artillery and ammunition. The best solution he could come to was to reduce the number of vessels in the area by cutting the Gaba Tepe patrol to two from four, with one reserve at Imbros and the southern patrol from seven to four. Every day the ship’s reported to their station to duel the freshly arrived artillery with no further sightings of U-boats.

   Despite these moves to reduce the number of vessels in the region Hersing found quite a few easy targets including the Russian Cruiser Askold on the 24 May off Dedegatch but Hersing hungered for the larger targets and knew his first victory would cost him the element of surprise. As he cruised deeper into the straits he found three Majestic class battleships at anchor but the proximity of a hospital ship made him think twice. At 6:30 a.m. on 25 May Hersing sighted the Swiftsure in her firing position and manoeuvred to a firing position but fate intervened. The trawler Minoru spotted the German’s periscope and signalled a warning with two sharp blasts of her siren drawing two destroyers to search for the raider. Seeing the German heading for the French battleship St Louis they gave chase but Hersing did not give up the chase and was sighted a short while later between the Agamemnon and Swiftsure and only a few shells from the Swiftsure dissuaded him from further attention.

   With the very positive sighting the warships began to adopt defensive tactics and the Vengeance took a zig-zag course from Mudros to Cape Kephalo which saved her from disaster as at 10 a.m. Hersing fired his first torpedo. The Vengeance’s crew sighted the tracks in the water and the ship turned to starboard as the torpedo passed harmlessly by and Hersing withdrew, again under a hail of shell fire whilst the Talbot and a flotilla of available destroyers and trawlers began a concentrated search. The destroyers reported firing on the infiltrator four times but to no success.

   The presence of U-boats brought an understandable paranoia with wary lookouts seeing shadows and periscopes everywhere and the Canopus, which had been relieved by the Vengeance was zig-zagging hard back toward Imbros, sighted another submarine to the north heading south prompting Admiral Nicholson to request to withdraw his vessels to Kephalo as now it appeared that two submarines were operating in the area despite the Canopus sighting being slightly dubious and her escorting destroyer, Ribble, did not sight any U-boats.

   Hersing struck before any order could be given and at 12:25 HMS Chelmer, who was patrolling
Sketch of HMS Triumph sinking
around the Triumph spotted suspicious wake and moved to investigate. The Triumph was at the firing position off Gaba Tepe with all defensive measures taken including torpedo nets, water tight doors sealed and secondary armament manned and ready. A lookout sighted the periscope and guns began to fire but their rapport was masked by a greater explosion as the U-21’s torpedo passed through the nets and struck the battleship sending up a shower of water and coal and lifted the hull out of the water. The Triumph began to list to starboard making it impossible to lower starboard life boats and as the list grew more pronounced the Chelmer returned from a fruitless search for their aggressor and pulled alongside to retrieve as many men as they could from the stricken ship. On the portside men were finding it difficult to escape the torpedo netting. One of the Chinese Ward-room stewards who had served aboard since Hong Kong, climbed up one of the net boons as he could not swim. He was catapulted off as the ship heeled over but was quickly rescued.

   The Triumph’s list only grew worse and within ten minutes she had rolled onto her back and bobbed there, keel up with one officer remarking:

It was an extraordinary sight to see a ship like that turn over. Wild rumblings, as heavy weights took charge, could be distinctively heard from outside, and the ship finally sank, still growling like a wounded dog, as the things inside went adrift. (4)

Other than the Chelmer, the trawler Lord Wimbourne sailed among the men in the water and pulled a further 104 men to safety whilst other ships assisted though one officer was in the water for an hour before rescue. In total 78 men were lost which considering how quickly the vessel sank was quite a miracle.

Commander Barnes, the First Officer of the Majestic was below deck at lunch when the Chief Yeoman burst in with news that the Triumph had taken a direct hit:


We all got up on deck in time to see her turn over clean bottom up, and then down she went. We expected to follow her example any moment and, weighing anchor, steamed slowly back with our nets out to our anchorage off Cape Helles. (5)

Keyes led the search for U-21 with destroyers but was unable to find it. In a letter to his wife dated 1 June he lamented that:


I must have gone right over it 3 times – but there is no way (to destroy it) except by chance. It is so hard to make people understand. I am sure my anti-submarine tactics prevented her firing again at a ship that day. (6)  


A swift decision was made to withdraw the Swiftsure from her station to safety due to a lack of torpedo nets and leaving the older and more expendable Majestic on site with Rear Admiral Stuart Nicholson transferring his flag and kit so quickly that it was “thrown pell mell, without even being packed, mingled with an assortment of tinned meats, preserves and wines” into the waiting trawler. The Admiral also brought General Fuller, Hamilton’s artillery officer and the war Correspondent Ashmead-Bartlett and was later heard remarking aboard the Majestic that now they were safely behind nets they could sleep soundly. For the crew of the Majestic, having Nicholson aboard gave them a sense of reassurance as well with Commander Barnes remarking:

No submarine would have the impertinence to molest a vessel bearing the person and flying the flag of such a potentate, attended on all sides by his retinue, whose comings and goings were accompanied by such pomp and circumstance. It was unthinkable. (7)

This was not a feeling shared by all with Ashmead-Bartlett stating that he was “convinced the end was near” and that night the remaining bottles of champagne and a great deal of port was drunk in the Wardroom so that they would not be wasted should the ship be sunk. His fears were magnified when he reached his bunk to find it not only on the exposed sea side of the vessel but also below the waterline. Not wanting to be caught below decks should the worse happen he got a Marine to move a mattress up to the deck where he spent the night with thirty pounds and his cigarette case in the pocket of his pyjamas.

Hersing, who had waited some two hours to get his shot at the Triumph and had been forced to flee an onslaught of fire and destroyers had ordered U-21 to dive and cruise under the sinking Triumph before settling to the sea bed to wait for the trouble to pass. Some twenty eight hours later he returned to the surface for fresh air and to recharge the vessel’s batteries. He then ordered the U-boat to recommence its patrol to try and replicate the 25th May’s success but early searches proved fruitless and so they turned south along Cape Helles.

Hersing spotted troops being landed in transport ships up ahead and that five hundred yards from shore lay HMS Majestic which was providing the landing troops with artillery support, with shells falling on the Turkish positions.

Hersing recalled post war that the British had reacted to the loss of the Triumph and were taking steps to protect the Majestic from the same fate:


The Submarine scare of the past few days, had indeed, had (an) effect. The Majestic was surrounded by an almost impenetrable patrol of boats of all kinds. Not only was there the difficulty of getting near her, but also the possibility of one of the small boats cutting across the path of a torpedo and getting it herself. The manoeuvring I had to do for a shot was intricate as a fine combination. (8)


HMS Majestic sinking
As Hersing studied his target his Watch officer reported they were at six hundred yards and that they probably could not get any closer a fact that was of no issue for Hersing as he had a perfect sight of Majestic but he had to contend with the swarm of smaller vessels cutting through his sights. A window of opportunity opened and he ordered “Torpedo – fire! Periscope in!”

Onboard the Majestic Petty Officer Cowie had just finished cleaning the fore bridge with six of the ship’s boys and was moving towards the after bridge when he saw Commander Barnes who was organising the launching of “the Admiral’s barge” in readiness of the arrival of the Exmouth to which he was due to transfer. Cowie glanced out across the water and his eyes fell on a strange object just astern of the minesweeper Reindeer. With sudden realisation he pointed at the periscope and called out to Barnes. The Commander looked to where Cowie was pointed and gasped.

“Yes, and here comes the torpedo!”

Both men shouted a warning to the men on deck and Cowie quickly ran and yelled down one of the ventilators before running to the end of the bridge to watch the explosion.

There was a deep muffled roar and a large spout of water and steam shot two hundred feet up into the air. The ship’s stacks shuddered whilst the masts and their yards swayed filling those below with dread in case they snapped and brought the masts crashing down but thankfully they stayed up.

U-21 dived away heading for safety, her escape further aided by the choppy sea conditions which masked the origin of the torpedo and its tracks. Hersing had to fight the urge to watch the results of his work and waited for any sound of a hit and then they hear it – “A distant ringing crash”

Deep in the Aft Stokehold, Stoker Sulivan was thrown twenty feet up into the air and he grabbed an overhead grating by reflex and pulled himself hand over hand to the nearest ladder before pulling himself up and onto the deck.

   An ordered urgency filled the men on deck as they hurried around throwing any flotsam into the water fearing that at any moment the ship would be ripped apart by an internal explosion and they all reacted to the order “Every man for himself” with quiet relieved professionalism.

The supporting vessels that surrounded the Majestic moved as close as they could to the wounded warship but could not come alongside as the vessel had healed to port to such a degree that it would do damage to the rescuers or take them down as well. Instead they had to sit and wait for the men to get off the ship and come to them. With only one lifeboat in the water most of them were swimming towards their salvation whilst others struggled to survive in the warm water or clung to anything that floated that had been thrown overboard.

   Cowie searched the aft-bridge for any wounded before walking down to the Quarter deck where he cut a ladder free and threw it in the water as an aid.

It seemed useless to remain on the ship longer, so I put the chinstrap of my cap under my chin, made sure that my trousers were securely fastened, took a last farewell of the dear old ship and dived into a clear place away from the crowd. (9)

He remembered clearly that the last sight he saw on board was the reporter, Ashmead-Bartlett, standing on the bridge checking his watch and calmly noting down the time of the sinking. This may have been a case of mistaken identity though as Ashmead-Bartlett would later describe how he was awoken from his slumber on deck by the clamber of crewmen at 6:40 a.m. with one responding to his queries that; “A torpedo was coming.” After the impact he was swept down to the main deck by escaping crewmen before heading aft to the quarter-deck before climbing over the side.

Cowie was pleased to find that the water was warm, pleasant and full of men, but before he thought to save himself he calmly swam up to one of the open starboard scuttles and called into it but found nothing but an officer’s hat floating on the surface of the rising water. As he swam away from the vessel he saw crowds of men still on the deck unwilling to jump and he called out to them that the vessel was definitely sinking and not, as many of them believed, resting on the sea bed.

   With the British reacting immediately and the supporting vessels began scouring the sea looking for the German intruder firing their forward armament at suspected periscopes which prompted Hersing to make his escape deftly taking U-21 down to sixty feet and pulled away to a safe distance and briefly popping the periscope to see what damage they had done. Hersing could see that the Majestic was listing heavily but his jubilation was short lived as the British supporting vessels opened fire.

Cowie had swum thirty yards to a French trawler where he found Commander Barnes and one of Majestic's gunnery officers arming the trawler's guns to join fire on a distant periscope but by the time they were ready the German vessel had retreated and thoughts turned to the rescue of men in the water as the Majestic finally rolled over, still flying the Admiral's flag and began sinking slowly. The battleship’s masts became embedded in the sea bed arresting her sinking after four and a half minutes and there she stayed. The trawler Cowie was on moved forward gently and lines were thrown overboard with one pulling six men to safety in quick succession. Cowie himself dived into the water to save a drowning man and got him back to the trawler where, with artificial respiration, they were able to save his life and Cowie later remarking:


"Poor Chap! He had escaped death by a hair's breadth, and looked ghastly. His name was MacNeil, a RNR man."


Others were not so fortunate, Stoker Walter Partridge was plucked from the water and despite being worked on for some time was pronounced dead by a doctor much to the anger and frustration of the men who worked to save him.


Thomas Pegg, a wireless boy aged 19 from Cheltenham swam over to save a drowning man and despite being a noted good swimmer was pulled down by the man's struggles and both were lost. Stoker Sullivan had somehow found himself in the water following his escape up the ladder and was safely pulled from the water. When he was pulled to safety it was noted that his skin was flaming red all over as if he had been cooked but the lucky stoker, the sole survivor from the aft stokehold, swore that he was fine.


A large number of the crew were entangled in the starboard torpedo nets as the battleship heeled towards them but many were wearing lifebelts and so floated away to safety though others were caught in the suction.


One man sat alone on the keel of the slowly sinking Majestic. He had been on deck with the non-swimmers who were too scared to jump in the water and those who firmly believed the vessel would not sink, as she began to roll and had clambered up the side and onto the belly of the ship and just sat amid the chaos watching and waiting to be plucked to safety.


With the survivors scattered across several vessels and washed up on the beaches it was hard to get an accurate casualty figure though the smaller vessels soon moved their cargo to larger vessels such as the sweeper Reindeer which proceeded to Mudros. It was a sorrowful journey with the dead being buried at sea along the way, a task which fell heavily upon Majestic's chaplain, Reverend Dawson. The crew arrived at Mudros at 3 p.m. and were given fresh tea and jam sandwiches whilst fresh clothing was found for them and they soon joined the survivors of the Triumph. In all 49 men had been lost in the sinking.


Admiral Wemyss remarked in his diary that:
The material loss of these two ships was not itself of supreme importance and the loss of life but slight but the moral effect was considerable and infused the Turkish army, which we know had been somewhat demoralized by its heavy losses since the opening of the campaign, with fresh courage. (10)


Indeed on the beach the Ottoman troops peered out of their positions to see the aged Majestic erupt with a large column of water shooting up debris, smoke and water in a great column before slowly listing to her side and capsizing belly up and all fighting momentarily stopped as everyone turned to regard what had happened at sea.


Commodore Keyes wrote to his wife that:
Roger Keyes


At any rate the Army will never be able to say we haven't supported them. I think, in fact I am sure - they were enormously impressed by seeing two battleships sunk, one off each area. At ANZAC every soul could see it all happen - and off Helles thousands saw - besides there it was within 500 yards of the beach. (11)


General Hamilton wrote in his diary that:
Fuller, my artillery Commander, and Ashmead-Bartlett, the correspondent, were both on board, and both were saved – minus kit! About 40 men have gone under. Bad luck. A Naval Officer who has seen her says she is lying in shallow water – 6 fathoms – bottom upwards looking like a stranded whale. He says the German submarine made a most lovely shot at her through a crowd of cargo ships and transports. Like picking a royal stag out of his harem of does.  (12)



Almost an hour after making their escape the German U-boat returned to the scene of the crime so Hersing could try and ascertain what the effect of his attack had been. What he witnessed was the Allied ships sweeping the area systematically looking for survivors. The Majestic's keel still holding above the water which it would do for several months until a storm finally shattered the masts and she finally sank below the waves.

The result of these successful attacks was that the Navy considered having both British and French battleships in the area was too dangerous and so were withdrawn to the safety of Mudros harbour whilst HMS Queen Elizabeth was withdrawn to the Grand fleet after news of the sinking of HMS Goliath on 12 May filtered back to the Admiralty no doubt exasperated by the loss of both the Triumph and the Majestic. The Admiralty believed that destroyers were able to provide a decent amount of fire support with their 4” guns for most of the Army’s needs but should heavier fire be required then the battleships would return with heavy protection for short periods. This had a great effect on the battles as it meant the Ottomans would not come under regular heavy fire from the sea and freed up the Asiatic based artillery from suppression which allowed them to lay down heavy fire on the rear areas especially in the French zone. A final precaution was for the Arcadian, Hamilton's vessel, to be braced by two merchant ships strapped to the side to protect her from torpedo attack.

On arrival in Constantinople, Hersing was greeted as a hero and saviour and a grateful Kaiser awarded him a Pour le Merite for sinking two battleships in two days.






Footnotes:


  1. Tirpitz, A. My Memoirs, Vol II, Hurst & Blackett, London, 1919  p.505
  2. Goodchild, G. The Last cruise of the Majestic, p.101
  3. Halpern, P. G. The Keyes papers, p.135
  4. Chatterton, E. K, Dardanelles Dilemma, p.256
  5. Ibid p.254
  6. Halpern, P. G. The Keyes papers P. 143
  7. Chatterton E. K, Dardanelles Dilemma p. 258
  8. Goodchild, G. The last cruise of the Majestic, p. 117-118
  9. Ibid. p. 120
  10. Wemyss, The Navy in the Darndelles Campaign, p.135
  11. Halpern, P. G, (ED) The Keyes Papers, p.147
  12. Hamilton, I., Gallipoli Diary p.253