Andrew Wareham - Falling into Battle

As so often in the Navy, the order was almost impossible to carry out but must be obeyed.

“Aye aye, sir.”

They spent two days in Harwich, long enough to clean ship and for Parrett to eat some good meals. Then the signal came that the expected change had been made. The post of Captain D had been abolished and the Harwich Flotilla had been created and was to be led by Captain Tyrwhitt in the light cruiser Arethusa.

“Small and light indeed, but able to match us for speed, gentlemen. A pair of six inch and six four inch QF and four tubes. There is some slight argument whether she should be a destroyer leader or part of a light cruiser squadron. For the while, she is ours. Tyrwhitt has a good name for enterprise – we shall be kept busy under him. He will be inspecting the flotilla tomorrow. Everything on top line for the morning! Not too much spit and polish – none of this nonsense of shining the shells in the ready-use lockers! Clean and tidy, very much as you would normally expect of your divisions.”

The word was passed and the hands tucked their unofficial comforts out of sight and double-checked that all of the little jobs had been done, as they would before any inspection. They did not expect the new man to don white gloves and run his fingers along the tops of cupboards in search of dust and went to no extraordinary lengths as they might for a fussy admiral.

Captain Smallwood introduced his officers and accompanied Tyrwhitt as he strode quickly along the upper deck.

“What happened to Woodpecker, Captain Smallwood?”

“Floating mine, sir. We spotted it almost under her bows and with no wireless could not warn her in time. I doubt she could have turned away even if we had made immediate contact. It was almost as if the mine had popped to the surface in front of her.”

“Probably did, from all we can gather. Not impossible that the tethers on the mine were weak. Intelligence suggests that the mines were intended to be fixed. They may have floated loose by accident.”

“Woodpecker dropped her bow on top of the mine. It exploded directly under her forecastle, ten or fifteen feet from the bow itself. Blew the bow off and her engines drove her under, sir.”

“Not good to watch, Captain Smallwood. However, you had played your part in sinking the minelayer before she had dropped more than a quarter of her cargo. Well done.”

“The after four inch was very effective, sir. Two hits from four rounds while coming down from full speed. Lieutenant Sturton – Sub as he then was – in command.”

Tyrwhitt made a mental note of the name.

“You have a pair of Lewises, I see, Captain Smallwood.”

“Newly fitted, sir. Could well be of use, sir, for inshore work.”

“What about a two pound pompom?”

“Useful, sir, but, where would we put it? Gunners and magazine would demand space we probably haven’t got, sir, without fitting up a deck cabin, which might be possible between the forward funnel and the break of the forecastle, between the two twelve pounders. That puts more weight up high, sir.”

“So it does. Not necessarily a good idea. Look at it and give me an opinion.”

It was rare indeed that senior officers wanted an opinion on their ideas – they normally simply demanded applause for them.

“We shall be getting more destroyers in, Captain Smallwood. Hopefully, they will be later and bigger. L class, I expect.”

The new destroyers had three four inch quick firers and a Maxim gun and four torpedo tubes and were good for twenty-nine knots. They were better sea boats than Sheldrake but were still not as powerful as the German destroyers.

“Separate flotillas, I must imagine, sir.”

“They can hardly work together, I agree, Captain Smallwood. I have not yet determined my policy but I am considering using your boats for inshore work while the L class are used for escort of the Live Bait Squadron and for hunting big ships trying to break into the Channel.”

Smallwood frowned.

“Live Bait, sir?”

“Those damned Cressy class cruisers. Anything up to five of them together. Almost useless except as a target to draw battlecruisers out of Cuxhaven or wherever they may be sheltering. A pair of twelve inch gun battlecruisers could butcher all five before breakfast – with three thousand and more men aboard. A disaster for the Navy. But if I am there with a score of destroyers, then we might see what four torpedoes apiece can do.”

Smallwood was immediately envious.

“I know what you are thinking, Smallwood – you do the work while I get the headlines. To an extent you are right, but I need your smaller boats where you can do most good. The Navy doesn’t care too much for the newspapers, you know – we do understand what people are doing in the background. Knock off a gunboat or two or an armed trawler and you will be protecting the BEF, the important part of the job.”

It sounded very heartening, but it was less than ideal for young officers seeking early promotion.

“Will the flotilla be made up to eight again, sir?”

“Your section will have a fourth boat, Smallwood. By tonight. Blackbird is joining your half-section. I want you on the Belgian coast for dawn. The BEF is still crossing to France and so far we have lost no troopships. You killed the minelayer that could have created disaster. Now block the inshore passages against raiders from the north!”

Simon stood in the background, as was proper for one so junior, thinking it was all very heartening stuff, but a little too much of Boys’ Own Paper for his taste. It smacked of ‘Up Guards and at ‘em’ – which Wellington was said to have cried at Waterloo, despite such theatricality being out of character for the Iron Duke.

Dacres was at his side, gave a quizzical glance and whispered.

“’Play up, play up and play the game’.”

Simon nodded. It was all very Victorian.

“Spy mania, gentlemen!”

Captain Smallwood surveyed the officers crowded onto the bridge.

“It is, and here I quote, ‘a known fact’ that there are German spies along the coast. I am informed that many of the members of the German brass bands, so popular in the coastal resorts, are in fact military men, young officers of both services, sent to spy upon Britain.”

Dacres said it was highly likely.

“Tubas, no doubt, sir. They have to display little musical talent other than the ability to play ‘oompah, oompah’ – ideal for a stiff-necked Prussian. No doubt while the trombones show off they are taking mental notes of the coastal defences of Cromer and Skegness - and Blackpool as well!”

The holiday resorts were very popular and far distant from any naval port.

“Shut up, Mr Dacres!”

“I was merely applauding the wisdom of our betters in the Admiralty, sir.”

“I am glad you appreciate the unceasing efforts that take place behind the scenes to make our nation safer, Mr Dacres. We are to leave harbour in the hours of darkness so that the bands cannot see the course we take. Hence the lack of running lights. You will note that other members of the Harwich Patrol will also be in movement, also without lights. That is not to mention the commercial traffic and the odd fishing vessel also present. We are permitted to shine an electric torch over the stern, provided it is well shaded.”

Dacres did not feel quite so witty on hearing that.

“Double lookouts on the bridge, sir. Two in the bows. Polly, you will hold the torch and will wave it furiously if you discover a set of bows about to join you from astern.”

The midshipman did not seem delighted to hear of his task.

“All hands on deck, sir, apart from the engineroom watch?”

“If you please, Mr Dacres. They are to wear lifejackets.”