The Great World War 1914–1945: 1. Lightning Strikes Twice. John Bourne

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СКАЧАТЬ duty in the Heligoland Bight early in the war, cruising with periscope awash by day and lying ‘doggo’ on the bottom at night.

      ‘Five or six days of this cramped existence, living mainly on tinned foods, had affected very seriously the digestive apparatus of one of his officers. The latter, seriously perturbed, decided on drastic remedies, and before turning in one night demolished about ‘half a guinea’s worth’ of a certain well-known brand of proprietary medicine. By the early hours of the morning the result of the experiment had passed his most sanguine hopes, but conditions in the confined and stagnant atmosphere lying on the ocean bed are not ideal ones for such shattering effect. That, at any rate, was the view taken by Horton and the rest of the crew. The latter sacrificed their morning beauty sleep without a murmur of protest when their commanding officer decided to rise to the surface an hour before the usual time. All on board were unanimous in expressing an earnest desire to fill the lungs with fresh morning air with as little delay as possible.

      The boat rose slowly, Horton’s eye to the periscope. The pleasing sight of the German cruiser Hela was reflected to his delighted gaze as she steamed slowly by, and within two minutes she was sinking, a torpedo in her vitals. It was that box of pills, undervalued at a guinea, that brought Horton to the surface at that propitious moment.’¹⁶

      Horton, probably the greatest submariner in our history, strode the two World Wars like a colossus. His renowned attacking and leadership qualities during the First War carved out for him a glittering career and reputation, while his performance as Flag Officer Submarines in 1940–42, then as Commander in Chief Western Approaches 1942–45, earned him a place in the annals of outstanding national military leaders. He was also the first submariner to raise the Service’s battle ensign – The Jolly Roger (JR). After his successful patrol he remembered Admiral Sir Arthur Wilson’s words that ‘all submariners captured in war should be hanged as pirates’¹⁷, and raised the flag on entering harbour to denote his achievement. The practice of flying the JR on returning to home base, now adorned with symbols to depict a variety of activities, became standard practice during the Second World War.

      However, back to basics; there are numerous stories from both World Wars about some submariners’ total aversion to using the heads, but few took it to the extremes of Lieutenant Commander Robert Halahan, Commanding Officer of HMS E18. Leslie Ashmore tells the story:

      ‘For Halahan I had great respect and affection. He inspired considerable devotion amongst his juniors and repaid it by resolute and fearless leadership. He had one idiosyncrasy, I remember, which used to cause us some anxiety. He could never bring himself to submit to the uncomfortable complications involved in the use of the submarine’s rather intricate sanitary arrangements. He therefore insisted, no matter where we were, in taking the boat to the surface every morning so that he might exercise his natural functions in a simpler way over the side.’¹⁸

      One day the inevitable happened and they were ‘bounced’ by a German airship. The Captain scrambled down the ladder ‘pantalone en bas’ and the boat escaped with a minor pounding.

      However, the inability to handle ‘intricate sanitary arrangements’ that resulted in exploding heads discharge bottles did take their toll on the unsuspecting or the untrained, either at best by providing the operator ‘with his own back’, or, as on two sad occasions, death. This poem, from HMS Torbay’s ‘Periscope Standard’ in 1944, warns of the worst case:

      ‘This is the tale of Joe McGee

      Who couldn’t work our WC.

      He didn’t realise when to vent

      Nor did he know just what flush meant.

      And so, with pressure ninety pounds

      (Accompanied by explosive sounds)

      He pushed on the lever “Hard a’ blow”

      With hull valve shut (cor stone a crow!)

      A second later Joe was seen

      Impaled upon the Fruit Machine

      Where, there unto this day he sticks…

      Grim warning to those men whose tricks

      With submerged heads, with hands unskilled

      Come close each day to being killed.

      All because they do not know

      When to flush and when to blow.’¹⁹

      Living was hard enough, but to this must be added the strain of being under attack. Ben Bryant again:

      ‘The swish, swish of the propellers of the hunter passing overhead, the waiting for the explosion of the charges as they sank slowly down. Had they been dropped at the right moment? Were they set to the right depth? The knowledge that there is no escape, that you must just wait for it. Then the shattering roar, the lights going out, the controls going slack as the power is cut, and the paint raining down. Then silence and the faint sounds of running water where a gland has started to trickle. It seems magnified one hundredfold – a serious leak is what you dread. For a few there is something to do, to make good the damage, provide alternative methods of control; others just have to wait for the next attack… For the CO being under attack was an absorbing business, you had far too much to think about to have time to be frightened. I always imagined it was very much worse for the crew, though most of them were kept pretty busy in controlling the boat as you twisted and turned, speeding up and slowing down. However, they never seemed to mind though critical interest was taken in the performance of the chaps up top – all of whom, judging by the remarks, had not only been born out of wedlock, but, blessed with amazing stamina, were credited with an almost continuous indulgence in the sexual act.’²⁰

      A typical attack of the Second War was survived by HMS Sahib, although dozens were not. By now A/S escorts of all nations were fitted with the sound-ranging device known as ASDIC, the pulses of which, according to Commander Edward Young, ‘were as though someone was gently tapping on the outside of the pressure hull. I thought of Blind Pew’s stick in Treasure Island.’²¹ The Captain, Lieutenant John Bromage²², starts the narrative after he had successfully attacked an escorted Italian convoy:

      ‘Sahib was at 300 feet. The Climene took up position on the starboard quarter and maintained contact without difficulty in the perfect conditions… quite suddenly hydrophone effect [propeller cavitation], which was clearly audible to the naked ear in the control room, started up directly overhead. Very shortly afterwards the ASDIC office reported the unmistakable sound of depth-charges hitting the water.’

      The helmsman, Leading Seaman Bobby Briard, takes up the story:

      ‘As was usual in these circumstances, I just gripped the wheel a little tighter and stared unblinking at the lubbers line in the compass in front of me. The pattern of depth-charges was right on target and it felt as if some giant hand had taken hold of the submarine and was continually slamming it down. The shock waves inside the boat seemed to burst inside my head and dim my sight. The stunned silence that followed the attack was punctured by a sort of hissing roar coming from the engine room. “All compartments report damage to the Control Room.” The Captain’s voice contained a note of urgency. The gyro in front of me was spinning wildly. When I attempted to put correction on the helm, the wheel spun loosely in my hands, I listened to reports coming in.’

      Bromage continues:

      ‘I had ordered СКАЧАТЬ