Thursday, 30 July 2020

The end of the Goliath


The night of the 12/13 May was much like any other with the Goliath, the Cornwallis and five Bulldog and Beagle patrolled near Du Tott’s battery, HMS Pincher sat mid channel and HMS Wolverine and Scorpion guarded the opposite side of the channel at Eren Keui bay.
HMS Goliath
destroyers taking up position in the mouth of the straits covering the French position at Kereves Dere whilst the destroyers HMS

   The weather was far from ideal as the night was particularly dark and moonless limiting visibility which was exacerbated by fog. The use of searchlights to aid in observation were prohibited as they would give away the positions of the battleships.  Ashmead Bartlett later recalled that “Many who had prophesied that, owing to the exposed position, a disaster would occur sooner rather than later” (1) The suspicion of attack was so high that the gun crews and lookouts aboard the Cornwallis had been warned to be extra vigilant against a night attack. At approximately 1:15 a.m. an unfamiliar torpedo boat loomed out of the darkness close to the Goliath. The duty quartermaster hesitated giving the order to fire on the strange vessel in case it was a friendly vessel, as was most likely considering the large volume of Allied shipping and with no sign of the Ottoman fleet. A signal was flashed over demanding the vessel identify itself but the reply that returned, although in English, made no sense. The crew began to react but were only able to fire off three rounds from a 25 pounder gun before the first torpedoes struck the helpless battleship.

   The unknown vessel was, in fact, the Ottoman torpedo boat Muavanet-i-Millet under the command of Senior Lieutenant Ayasofyali Ahmed Saffed and Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Firle who had persuaded the Naval Command to allow them to try a raid on the Allied fleet. The German-Turkish crew had left Constantinople on the night of the 12 May and used the inky darkness to their benefit and drifted down the straits and clinging as close to the shore as they could passing the Bulldog and Beagle completely undetected until they came across the exposed battleship and took careful aim.
The Muavanet-i-Millet

   The first torpedo struck the Goliath abreast of the fore turret and the second abeam her fore funnel and moments later the third struck close to the aft turret. With all surprise gone the Muavanet-i-Millet quickly turned for home and disappeared into the darkness with the destroyers HMS Scorpion and Wolverine in pursuit in a desperate gamble to cut off the Ottoman’s retreat.

   Following the impact of the torpedoes the sleeping crew were shaken from their bunks and hammocks. Wolstan Forrester joined the other Midshipman who were gathering on deck in their pyjamas as some of the ship’s Boys were led by a RNR Sub-lieutenant (probably Albert Lund) up a ladder from the gun room flat with the Reservist assuring them to remain calm and that they would all be saved.

   The Goliath began to list quite quickly to starboard and as Forester climbed up to the quarter deck he estimated it was at a five degree list so quickly made for the port side where a crowd was gathering.

   There was a certain amount of confusion as Able Seamen tried to launch boats but found the growing list prevented launching. Calls of “Boat ahoy!” drew the crowd’s attention to the inky blackness but no boats could be seen and the Commander was was urging a team of men to throw flotsam overboard but the list stopped them getting it over the portside and the ship’s fittings, such as the Captain’s hatch made it too difficult to go over the starboard side and the men gave it up as a bad job.

   The night air was suddenly filled with loud noises from deep within the vessel as she listed further and further over twenty degrees.
Inside the ship everything was not secured was sliding about and banging up against the bulkheads with a series of crashes. Crockery was smashing – boats falling out of their cruches – broken funnel guys swinging anainst the funnel casings. (2)

   As the situation rapidly broke down it was obvious the ship was lost and the voices of the gathered men calling for help quietened momentarily and through this the voice of an officer rang out loud and clear:
“Keep calm men, be British!”

   Then the vessel rapidly began to heal over again and the men on the Portside began to climb over the sides and jump into the water with the Commander jumping two seconds ahead of Forrester who hit his face on the side of the vessel on his fall of thirty feet into the water. On hitting the water Forrester was struck by another falling seaman who almost pulled him down but the young midshipman pulled himself free and swam fifty yards to safety to avoid the suction of the battleship as it made its final journey to the bottom of the straits.
I watched her last moments. The noise of crashing furniture and smashing crockery was continuous. Slowly her stern lifted until it was dimly outlined against the deep midnight sky. Slowly her bows slid further and further under until, with a final lurch, she turned completely over and disappeared bottom upwards in a mass of bubbles. (3)
Forrester made for the nearby HMS Cornwallis two and a half miles away worrying about sharks and listening to the shrieks and calls of other men in the water grow more and more infrequent. Having jettisoned his water logged pyjamas he made it onto a spar for a rest before once again plunging into the cold water but found that the current was pushing him off course and he couldn’t even get into the Cornwallis’ searchlight beams. He looked around for another vessel and was able to signal a rowboat but promptly fainted as soon as he was pulled aboard after all of his exertions. The Cornwallis was too far away and the current was too strong with only one man getting no nearer than two hundred yards away before they were picked up. The Goliath had also laid only a hundred yards from the shore but none of the crew were able to swim against the current to reach it.

   Following the torpedoing it took the surrounding ships vital moments to realise the situation. From the Cornwallis those on duty on the bridge believed that they had heard a heavy gun firing. As the cries of the men gathered on the Goliath’s deck reached them the first thought was it was exultant French soldiers cheering a victory, others were dulled bu the constant rifle fire from the trenches before it became clear that they were actually hearing “Ship Ahoy!”

   On the nearby HMS Majestic Petty Officer Cowie was shaken from his hammock by the explosions and burst out onto the deck as the ship’s boats were ordered away to search for survivors in the water. “The Goliath was gone, but in the water were struggling men and floating wreckage of every description” (4) The men on the deck stared helplessly into the darkness as the current washed the “struggling mass of humanity down upon us”.

   Rope, life belts and flotsam were thrown overboard for the men to cling to and Cowie, in absence of orders forbidding their use, brought the searchlights on to scour the dark and illuminate those in the water to help the lifeboats recover who they could. However those in the water tried to avoid the Majestic believing she was steaming towards them when in fact they were caught in the current and the old battleship was stationary.

   For the boats in the water the current was proving quite a problem with Signalman Beale of the Cornwallis recording that:
I never want to have a more heart rending job! It was awful while picking up one man to hear another not twenty yards away shouting “Picket Boat, Help! Quick! I’m nearly done!” when we knew that the current was sweeping him down stream into the darkness. (5)
Though he also noted that the men retained their sense of humour and that ten minutes after getting into the boat and getting a jumper or coat from one of their rescuers would soon make a joke about having only doing their washing just the day before. Another issue the lifeboats had was with the searchlights playing across the darkness stopping their eyes from adjusting to the darkness.
We had to work at a slow speed as our searchlights and those of other ships only served to make the darkness more terrible, and we were afraid of running down the men struggling in the water. (6)

      Admiral, Sir Rosalin Wemys had stood on the deck of the cruiser Eurayles, a great coat pulled over his pyjamas, having been similarly been jolted out of bed by the action, watching the searchlights play across the water. He described the speed of the incident in his post war book:
They appeared to our horrified vision of men struggling in the water, all the clearer for the surrounding darkness. The night was perfectly still and it was difficult to believe that the fighting lay only hundred yards distance, a noise which gradually rose and fell and finally subsided as the men were picked up or drowned until at last stillness once more reigned and no sign were left of the tragedy that had so suddenly overtaken Goliath. (7)

   Forrester was brought aboard a trawler and given some clothes before transferring to the Lord Nelson with the other survivors. The men swapped stories of their escapes with a Lieutenant telling the young Midshipman that his watch had stopped at 1:29 a.m. when he hit the water and believed the battleship had sunk in three and a half minutes. News that the Commander had survived was greeted well but tinged with grief for the loss of Captain Thomas Shelford who was killed in the water by a falling boat which crushed him beneath its weight. Another of the fallen was the young Ship’s boy Alfred Gadd. One Midshipman was not picked up until two days later when he was found floating in his Gieve safety waistcoat but he was too exhausted from his exertions and sadly passed away soon afterwards.

   The current and the swiftness of the sinking meant relatively few were saved with 570 men being killed and 20 officers and 130 men saved with the former surviving in greater numbers as their quarters were above deck and the rest of the crew were “caught like rats in a trap, and were drowned below” (8)

   The loss had a bad effect on the crews of the other battleships with the speed of the attack and sinking as well as the high rate of loss. Cowie would later record that “the sight of those poor fellows struggling in the water and the realisation of the swiftness of the catastrophe, were significant to unnerve the strongest men.” For the crewmen on the decks of the nearby battleships they were left feeling helpless:

   One would imagine that after having seen hundreds of dead and wounded one would be inured to shocks of all kinds, but nothing we had experienced affected us so profoundly as the sight of these men, swept past in the darkness on a five-knot current, and the sound of their voices rising from the water (9)

End Notes:

1. Ashmead-Bartlett E. The uncensored Dardanelles Loc 1807
2. Forester W    From Dartmouth to the Dardanelles Loc 1159
3. Ibid. Loc 1474
4. Goodchild, G. The Last cruise of the Majestic p.103
5. Stewart A. & Peshall C, The Immortal Gamble p. 171
6. Ibid p.171
7. Wester-Wemyss R. The Navy in the Dardanelles campaign, p.83
8. Ashmead-Bartlett E. The uncensored Dardanelles Loc 1816
9. Stewart A & Peshall C, The Immortal Gamble p. 169


Friday, 3 April 2020

Thursday, 12 March 2020

Bombardment of Zeebrugge November 1914


HMS Russell
With Admiral Nicholson’s 3rd Battle Squadron based at Dover as part of the Anti-invasion plans (arriving on the 15th November) it was only logical to use those “Duncans” to carry out the bombardment. Nicholson’s flagship HMS Russell and HMS Exmouth were chosen and were to be escorted by the destroyers Archer, Attack, Ariel, Ferret, Forrester, Druid and the Defender. As the area would be undoubtedly mined and in spite of complaints from the Senior Naval officer at Lowestoft four pairs of fast minesweepers from Lowestoft were detailed to clear a path for the force. Also attached to the force would be the airships Astra Torress and Parecval who would
monitor the fall of the battleship’s shots and report back damage caused if the weather permitted.

  
The main target for the Russell and Exmouth was the Bruges Canal lock and any submarines or vessels in the harbour as well as military buildings within the town including two new defensive batteries that had been recently established. The force left Dover at 3:30 a.m. on the morning of the 23rd November with four destroyers escorting the battleships and four ahead protecting the minesweepers. They passed the western end of the Thornton ridge by forenoon and at 12:30 p.m. they reduced speed to 6 knots so that the sweepers could clear a path. This was easier said than done though with the sweepers encountering strong currents that spread their nets and with the heart stopping moment when a moored German mine was sighted between the sweepers and the battleships. Swift action averted a crisis and the ships continued to position and enter the Wielingen Channel and run down to Zeebrugge arriving at 2:30 p.m.. Nicholson ordered his guns to aim at the harbour, defensive forts and the railway station.

  
With the Airships unable to leave Kingsnorth due to weather so destroyers stationed three to four miles to port of the battleships attempted to spot the fall of shot but were fairly unsuccessful in their attempts. The Russell and Exmouth open fired with their fore turrets at 12,500 yards before firing in regular salvoes and after fifteen minutes they altered course by four points to port so as to narrow the range to 6000 yards allowing the 6” guns and after turrets to fire as well. They altered course again once they had passed the Wielingen Light ship as the two minesweepers had to retire and bereft of protection it was decided to turn and return back through their track through the safe waters. All firing ceased at 3:40 p.m. as the two ships passed out of range and the taskforce returned to their various ports.

  
Dutch press would later talk of serious damage and U-boats destroyed and sinking in the harbour but Admiral Nicholson was less enthusiastic about his force’s effort over the seventy minute ordeal. The North easterly wind had blown Nicholson’s own smoke between him and the harbour obscuring the targets and with the destroyers unable to report accurately his hits it was hard to say for definite what he had done but was confident that the lock was at least out of commission.

  
During the bombardment the Russell and Exmouth had fired 76 rounds from their turrets and a further 143 rounds of the 6” ammunition each but the Exmouth had fired off a quantity of shrapnel rounds which although deadly for men swarming over decks, failed to do any damage to the target buildings.

  
Nicholson’s assessment of the bombardment was fairly accurate with the real damage being negligible with only an electric power station for the lock being temporarily out of action meaning the Germans had to open the lock by hand. No U-boats were sunk as none were present and the batteries remained silent as Nicholson was out of range. The whole bombardment failed to affect the Germans who continued to strengthen the defences and further request more U-boats for operations in the area.

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...