Andrew Wareham - Falling into Battle

“And the rest hauled down their flag – which was the only sensible thing to do. Badly treated by their masters, sending them off to sea wholly untrained!”

The German Admiralty was possibly worse than the British, it seemed.

“Four destroyers - three hundred officers and men to share in the prize money on those three, Mr Dacres.”

“Very little, I must imagine, sir.”

“Yes, the days of Cochrane are gone, I’m afraid. Prizes pay out far less than in the Napoleonic days. More of a token payment, but welcome to the hands. They’ll probably see ten pounds apiece for three modern trawlers which will become naval vessels, almost of a certainty. A month and you’ll see them sent out minesweeping, I don’t doubt. Very useful little addition to the Fleet.”

Captain Tyrwhitt made a fuss of them as they entered Harwich with the White Ensign flying over the German on the three captures in traditional fashion. He paid a visit to Sheldrake rather than calling the captain to him, a sign of respect that all could understand.

“Sank an old torpedo-boat destroyer, sir, one of those they called ‘leaders’ – not much to her but she did have torpedo tubes and was to raid into the Channel after dropping off four trawlers at a port near Zeebrugge where they were to be the initial harbour defence. One trawler fought and went down fast. The others surrendered, which was only sensible.”

“A Belgian harbour?”

“Yes, sir. Close to the Dutch frontier. They said it was captured last night.”

“Then their army is moving faster than we had thought. That is news that the Admiralty might not possess.”

Tyrwhitt turned to the lieutenant acting as his staff officer, sent him off to the telephone at a run.

“Damned nuisance, having no wireless aboard, Smallwood.”

“Not a lot to be done about it, sir.”

“Agreed – she’s simply too small. Sheldrake sank the German on her own, you say?”

“Yes, sir. The after four inch and the twelve pounder did very well, sir. They were under the direct control of Lieutenant Sturton again.”

“What about the forward gun?”

“Valueless in any sort of sea, sir. Can’t even man it over fifteen knots.”

“Bad design, these H boats. Can’t see a lot of use for you other than inshore at low speed.”

Captain Smallwood was unable to put up any argument.

“A pair of torpedo tubes and no reloads, sir, says that we are not a great deal of value in any fleet action. Inshore, possibly raiding a harbour and putting a mouldy into a ship at anchor, we could be valuable. There won’t be much in the way of defences at this harbour yet, sir?”

Tyrwhitt stared sternly for a few seconds before starting to laugh.

“Where do the men get these names from? Why ‘mouldy’ for a torpedo?”

“Because for years they were never used, sir. They sat in the tubes and never moved from one year’s end to the next. Like old bread, left at the back of the bin, they went mouldy.”

“Better do something about that, Smallwood! This port near Zeebrugge… Can’t get there tonight. What’s the weather for tomorrow? I will have to get approval from on high… Make your plan assuming your half-section is available. Give an alternative for Sheldrake only.”

They peered at the charts and decided that the sole course of action possible was to enter the harbour slowly, pottering round a mole that gave protection from the sea, fire torpedoes at anything in sight and then get out fast.

“It’s not a natural harbour with protection from headlands – only the mole to allow ships to take a mooring in shelter. There is too little room for four ships in line to get in, make their shots and turn and escape without fouling each other. Three boats to work the coast, looking for passing trade, as you might say, while Sheldrake makes her way at slow speed from the northeast, well inshore, sneaks inside and does her dirty work and then flees while the Hun wakes up.”

Dacres pointed to the chart of the harbour.

“Guns to fire only during the process of falling back, sir? This mole – they are almost bound to have put sentries and perhaps a field gun or two on the seaward end.”

Smallwood agreed.

“Machine guns to play across the mole, keep their heads down. Twelve pounders to targets of opportunity, particularly on the mole. Four inch guns to seek out smaller vessels while Mr Harker does his best with the tubes, picking out the two biggest in port.”

Harker nodded – he could do that.

“Four inch to look out for batteries as well, sir?”

“If any fire on Sheldrake , yes. Where possible, fire at ships rather than on land. Try not to kill Belgians.”

They agreed reluctantly, though much of the opinion that the welfare of civilians was not their concern – they had a war to fight.

“Mr Parrett, you will have the forward four inch and will select your targets among the shipping as we enter the harbour, firing on them as we leave. Mr Sturton, what have you in mind for the twelve pounders?”

Simon smiled confidently – there was no gain to displaying his doubts.

“Two good gunlayers, sir, and two gun captains, fully trained up. As well, sir, the stewards – yours and the wardroom’s – and two from the torpedo tubes are familiar with the twelve pounders and will form the nucleus of a second crew. Ammunition supply is a problem if we fire more than about fifteen rounds apiece and will cause delays in a lengthy action, which we do not expect on this occasion.”

“Clear enough. Any action after we clear the harbour is likely to be conducted on a single broadside. You will select targets to your discretion, on land if you think it correct.”

Simon nodded, staring again at the chart, trying to discover logical locations for shore guns.

“What about small craft, sir, barges and such? There is a canal here which might provide a route towards Antwerp and could be the reason for taking the harbour with all of the risks of a seaborne assault.”

“Steam tugs, if you can spot them. Ignore sailing barges which are likely to be Belgian.”

Captain Smallwood took his plan of action to Captain Tyrwhitt, discovered that he had now been declared Commodore of the Harwich Patrol, to the delight of all. It gave Tyrwhitt a degree of autonomy in his position.

“Not like it used to be, Smallwood. Prior to telegrams, and now wireless, a commodore was independent of the Admiralty. Now, they expect to hear everything almost before it’s happened. Not to worry! I have the go ahead to raid the coast, to take a look at what’s going on in the harbour. There is a feeling that the Hun may try to run coastal convoys down there to provide ammunition and rations for the Army. Anything we can do to disrupt that will be popular!”

“What I have in mind, sir, is for the three of the section to work inshore north and east of Zeebrugge, hunting for convoys or minelayers. It seems likely that the Germans will try to create a safe inshore channel protected from the sea by minefields. They will go ahead by about an hour. Sheldrake will creep into the harbour mouth then and try to spot what’s in there and use her torpedoes, only opening up with the guns after the first explosion. Hit and run, sir.”

“No room for the four of you to work together. Looks like a choice of a single ship or a substantial squadron… Four old battleships dropping twelve inch bricks across the harbour from a distance to draw attention; a flotilla of cruisers closer inshore to paste selected targets with six or seven point five or nine point two inch; a dozen destroyers in line astern into the harbour with torpedoes – that might destroy the whole German presence without huge losses. For a simple raid to see what’s going on, a single ship makes sense. What’s the weather for tomorrow night?”