III. CONVOYING MERCHANT SHIPS
Being an account of the American forces employed, the transition from patrol system to convoy system, the organization, administration, and operation of a convoy, together with certain personal experiences and incidents that befell the writer.
The Queenstown Forces
The thirty-five United States Destroyers based at Queenstown during the spring and summer of 1917, when the patrol was in operation, and during the transition from patrol system to convoy system were, numerically, only a comparatively small part of the vessels which were under the command of Vice Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly, the Commander-in-Chief, Coast of Ireland.
There were the light cruiser Adventure, Captain Hyde; a number of mystery ships which came and went in the manner their secret duties required; and the sloops, in reality gunboats, specially built during the war. These latter vessels carried the gentle sounding names of the flowers, such as Buttercup, Snowdrop, Zinnia, etc. Then there were the legion of smaller craft, the trawlers, drifters, mine sweepers, salvage tugs, and M.P. boats. Nor were these vessels the only ones that belonged to the Queenstown command. There were sweepers and trawlers at Berehaven which were later augmented by submarines transferred from Killybegs farther north. The Vulcan, mother ship, accompanied her charges to this new base. This submarine unit was commanded by the famous Captain Nasmith, who did such remarkable work with the submarines at the Bosphorus. Farther north, at Buncrana, there were destroyers and sloops in addition to trawlers and mine sweepers, these latter being found everywhere that shipping went along the coast.
As the American destroyers increased in numbers, the British destroyers which had operated from Queenstown were gradually withdrawn to other fields. The largest British destroyer base which worked the convoys, more or less in conjunction with the Queenstown destroyers, was at Plymouth on the English Channel. This was a separate command.
During the time of the patrol the destroyers used to come into Queenstown only at the end of every second tour. For the rest period, after the other tour, we went to Berehaven. This was to avoid congestion in Queenstown harbor where there was none too much room for so large a number of vessels. The Melville remained at Queenstown to take care of the destroyer wants at this place, and the Dixie was sent to Berehaven for the same purpose. As Captain Pringle was senior to Captain Price, these officers changed commands, it being the desire of Admiral Sims that the senior be always at Queenstown on the Melville.
After the convoy system was in full working order, the plan of alternating between Queenstown and Berehaven as rest places for the destroyers was abandoned; and Queenstown only was used for this purpose. This was for the simplification of administration, and because the outbound convoys started from Queenstown or from ports farther eastward. The Dixie returned to Queenstown and moored close to the Melville just above the Haulbowline dockyard. A large number of additional buoys were planted, extending up the harbor to beyond Monkstown, and down the harbor nearly to the Bar Rock buoy. During the patrol it was possible to assign the duties of the ships so that only a few were in port at the same time; but this could not always be done when three or more convoys were being looked out for simultaneously. Under these conditions the harbor would frequently be practically abandoned of destroyers, and then again at times there might be as many as twelve or eighteen in port together.
The Queenstown destroyers were officially known as the United States Destroyer Squadrons Operating in European Waters. The Commander of this force was Rear Admiral Sims, who also commanded all the other United States Naval Forces in Europe. My first orders were to report to Admiral Sims, and from him I received the original operation order under which we carried on. Captain Pringle who commanded the Melville was Admiral Sims' Chief of Staff for the destroyers. He was also officially on the staff of Vice Admiral Bayly. He thus held an unusual and unique position, made necessary by the fact that Admiral Sims' extensive command kept him away from Queenstown the greater part of the time, and that, while the American destroyers at Queenstown were an administrative unit of the United States Forces in European Waters, they were, at the same time, under the orders of Vice Admiral Bayly for operative purposes.
Captain Pringle was the officer we destroyer captains went to for everything pertaining to upkeep, maintenance, personnel, supply, discipline, in fact everything administrative. Admiral Bayly was the one we went to for orders as to when we would go to sea and what we were to do there. Our reports of operations were made to Admiral Sims, through Captain Pringle, his Chief of Staff. Copies of these reports were sent to Admiral Bayly. It all worked out beautifully, and was a most perfect example of efficient co-operation, much of the credit for which belongs to Captain Pringle for his executive ability and unusual tact.
In disciplinary matters which concerned the personnel of both the British and American Forces, rather an unusual situation occurred. The first incident was a collision between the British sloop Laburnum and the American destroyer Jarvis. In order to place the responsibility in such cases Admiral Bayly decided he would order Courts of Inquiry under the British regulations; but the court in each case was to be composed of both British and American officers. The British Court of Inquiry corresponds to our Board of Investigation, there being three members, and no oaths taken unless specifically required in the precept. In this first court, I was the American member, the British members being the flag captain. Captain Carpendale, and Commander Cochrane of the sloop Myosotis. Copies of the proceedings were sent to both the British and American Commanders, and each then decided what disciplinary action should be taken only insofar as the personnel of his own service was concerned. The court just referred to was, so far as known, the first time in history that British and American officers sat together on such a tribunal. There were quite a number of such mixed courts before the war ended.
Transition from Patrol to Convoy
While the operations of the United States destroyers resulted in a decrease in sinkings, there were still far too many of these latter to warrant an optimistic viewpoint as to the final outcome. There had been, for a long time, a struggle for the upper hand between those in favor of the adoption of the convoy and those opposed to it. The reasons for and against have been given many times and will not be reproduced here. Finally the convoy advocates succeeded in persuading the Admiralty to try a few experimental ones. These proved successful, and from that time on the transition gradually took place, the destroyers being withdrawn from patrol duty as their services as escort vessels were required.
It took some little time to get the convoy system properly organized. For a while the destroyers would travel light one way. That is, we would take a convoy to sea, and come back to port without one; or would go to sea without a convoy and bring one back. This of course was an uneconomical employment of the destroyers; so as soon as the number of convoys increased sufficiently, and the organization and administration of their operations straightened out, the outbound convoys were so timed in departure that the destroyer escorts would proceed with them to the limit of the submarine danger zone, and then join company with an inbound convoy. By this method all the destroyers worked both ways.
The outbound convoys would be collected at Milford Haven or Queenstown, or sometimes they would be started from Liverpool, the escort meeting them somewhere in the Irish Sea. The kind of escort furnished depended on the character of the convoy and the vessels available. Sometimes the escort was composed of destroyers only, sometimes they would be mixed, destroyers and sloops, destroyers and trawlers, etc. On occasions when destroyers, sloops and trawlers ran out, the newer P boats were impressed in service. Quite frequently a mystery ship was used as one of our escort squadron, it being stationed, for decoy purposes, some distance from the convoy.
These early convoys made a great difference in the work and responsibilities of the senior destroyer captains, who, by virtue of their seniority became the escort commanders. While on patrol we had only our own ships to look out for unless we happened to be in company with a single merchant ship. But when the convoy started we immediately became division or squadron commanders with the tactical duties involved, and the responsibility not only of the escort vessels but, to some extent, of the convoyed vessels as well.
There was also some administrative work and paper work involved which had not been on our shoulders previously. For example when we received the operation order from headquarters the escort commander would, usually, on the morning of sailing, have a conference at Admiralty House with the masters of the vessels that composed the convoy. Here the plan of procedure was explained, instructions given as to methods to be followed under different circumstances, admonition to keep closed up, lights out at night, etc. These merchant captains had never before traveled in formation. They were now to be initiated under peculiarly trying conditions where they must not only keep position accurately, but by day they must zigzag, and by night they must keep their lights out. Many of them did not like the idea at all, some few bucked it, but the greater number came around in good shape and did their best to make the convoy system the success which it eventually proved to be. Before sailing each time, the escort commander had to issue an operation order to his force, and on return to port he was required to submit a report on the operations. Neither of these had been required while the patrol was in effect.
In the development of the convoys it was necessary in each case to give much detailed instruction which later became doctrine and could then be omitted in individual cases. However, there was always much information to be imparted to all concerned. Let us follow through the mode of procedure in one such instance.
The escort commander would receive an operation order from the commander-in-chief. This gave the information concerning the convoy, its makeup, etc., the composition of the escort, and the time of departure. It was accompanied by the copies of all orders issued to the individual ships composing the convoy. These orders were:
-
- Sailing orders.
- A sketch showing the position of all vessels in convoy.
- A sketch of the zigzag plan to be followed.
The sailing orders were complete as to detail in regard to: (1) time of getting under way; (2) order in which ships should pass out through the boom; (3) directions for passing through the swept channel; (4) the courses to be steered with positions to be passed through by the convoy so long as it remained together; (5) what to do in case escort leaves before dispersing position is reached; (6) the speed of the convoy; (7) the zigzag to be used, and for how long.
In addition the escort commander was given an envelope marked "secret," which contained the information, orders, and instructions concerning the inbound convoy which was to be met after the parting of company with the outbound one. These instructions were often quite bulky as they usually contained orders for the ocean escort commander and the commodore of the convoy. When a convoy left the United States, Halifax, Dakar, or wherever its starting point was, the destination of the different ships was not always known; or if they had been given a destination, this was changed after departure without their knowledge. This information had to be conveyed to the commander of the convoy so that the vessels could be rearranged in formation to facilitate the separation of the convoy into groups bound for English West-coast ports, Channel ports, or French ports.
There was also furnished the escort commander information of all convoys at sea or which would be at sea during the time he would be out. This was so as to avoid crossing one another at night. When two convoys met or crossed on a dark night it created an ugly situation which no one cared to encounter.
A Typical Merchant Convoy
Having received the orders from the commander-in-chief, the escort commander would arrange for the aforementioned meeting with all the merchant captains at Admiralty House. There would then be a conference of the captains of the escort vessels on board that of the senior escort commander, after which the latter would issue an operation order to his force.
A sample of one of these operation orders is reproduced here:
# 1118.
U.S.S. Wadsworth.
7 October, 1917.
Memorandum Order.
From : Commanding Officer, U.S.S. Wadsworth. (Escort Commander)
To : Commanding Officers
U.S.S. Wadsworth U.S.S. Walke U.S.S. Trippe
U.S.S. Tucker U.S.S. Allen H.M.S. Crocus
U.S.S. Shaw U.S.S. Cummings
Reference : C-in-C Queenstown No. S.O. 525 of 7 October 1917.
1. Allen, Tucker get underway 8 a.m. and proceed to Milford Haven. On completion duty with H.M.S. Donegal, request instructions by wireless.
2. Wadsworth, Shaw, Trippe, Cummings, Walke, Crocus get underway at 7:15 a.m. On arrival off Daunt Lightship scout to ten miles distance on following approximate courses:
Walke 220° Cummings 160°
Shaiu 200° Trippe 140°
Wadsworth 180° Crocus 120°
3. Return to Daunt Lightship by 11 a.m., and when convoy is formed take station.
4. Make as wide zigzag as practicable to best cover area and protect convoy having consideration for state of sea, visibility, and necessary fuel economy.
5. When outbound convoy is dispersed come within easy signal distance of Wadsworth to receive instructions.
6. Stations for incoming convoy will be same as for outgoing convoy. Allen and Tucker will take station five miles ahead and about 3 points on starboard and port bows respectively, of the convoy. They will close in on convoy if poor visibility makes this desirable.
7. When convoy separates, Trippe, Walke, Shaw, and Crocus will return to Queenstown. Other destroyers will form screen around two west coast ships as follows:
Allen—ahead,
Cummings—starboard bow to beam.
Tucker—port bow to beam,
Wadsworth—astern.
8. Force answer to call sign X.
9. For outgoing convoy C.B. 585 is in effect (this will be distributed to U.S. destroyers tonight.) For incoming convoy C.S. 04 is still in effect. Attention is called that when C.B. 585 is used all courses signaled are magnetic and when C.B. 04 is used courses signaled are true.
J.K. Taussig.
In the outbound convoy there were sixteen ships. It will be noted that one of the escort vessels was H.M.S. Crocus, a British sloop. This frequently happened when there were not sufficient destroyers available.
At the appointed time the destroyers would get underway and stand out to sea. This was usually about two hours in advance of the convoy. The escort would then spread out and make a "sweep" for a distance of ten miles off the lightship. This was to search for submarines and, if there should be any present, to keep them under while the merchant ships were leaving harbor, passing through the swept channel, and forming up afterwards. This latter was usually a slow process owing to the inexperience of the personnel in tactical maneuvers. The escort vessels would return from their scouting in time to join the convoy on its arrival off the lightship. Here would commence a shepherding process where the merchant ships were the sheep and the destroyers the collies. It was something of an effort to round the convoy into shape, but when once done, and we were finally on our way, we settled down to routine zigzagging with only now and then a break in the formation caused by some ship not keeping position.
In these early merchant convoys the ships in formation were placed at intervals of 1,600 yards and at distances of 400 yards. This gave a comparatively wide front and shallow depth. The destroyers or other escort vessels were stationed ahead and on the flanks, with one astern to keep the ships closed up and to be in position to attack any submarine that might pass through the formation. The speed of these convoys was, of course, determined by that of the slowest ship, which frequently was not over eight knots. Then about one knot in advance was lost through the zigzag, and usually another knot was lost owing to the prevailing westerly sea which knocked down the speed of all ships.
For forty-eight hours or more the convoy would proceed to the westward. Then when reaching the dispersing point, or if the dispersing point had not been reached by dark of the day on which due, the signal would be made for the convoy to separate, and each vessel would be left to its own resources for the remaining trip across the Atlantic. The destroyers would assemble, and the escort commander would set a course and designate a speed to take the force to a daylight position well in advance of the rendezvous for the incoming convoy. A radio would be sent to the ocean escort requesting his time of arrival at the rendezvous. These merchant convoys were usually several hours late and often much more, which necessitated the escort vessels proceeding farther to the westward than originally contemplated.
At daylight, having obtained a position well in advance of the on-coming convoy, scouting line would be formed, the distance between ships depending on the known accuracy of our own position, and the visibility conditions. Westward the scouting line would proceed, and usually at the expected time, or a little later, one of the scouting vessels would sight smoke or masts or the hull of a ship, again depending on atmospheric conditions. This destroyer would flash out the code word for "contact." All others knowing his position in line would immediately alter course so as to assemble on the convoy. No further signals were necessary, each destroyer knowing his place and taking it, immediately beginning to patrol at a distance of from 800, to 1,200 yards from the nearest merchant ship. The escort commander would then communicate with the commodore of the convoy, giving him such orders as were directed by the Admiralty. These orders were either signaled by semaphore, shouted through a megaphone, or, if the sea was sufficiently smooth, sent aboard by a heaving line from the merchant ship to the destroyer.
Another two days would be taken up in the eastward passage. Then re-arrangement of the vessels of the convoy would take place in order to facilitate the separation of vessels bound for destinations in accordance with the Admiralty instructions. A radio would be received from the escort commander of the Plymouth destroyers asking for our position relative to their designated rendezvous, which was the position where the convoy would separate into two parts, or perhaps three. Then the British destroyers would make contact and assemble, the convoy would be divided, the British escort going with the ships bound for the English Channel and French ports, the American escort proceeding with those bound for Irish and West English ports. This procedure varied at times according to the destinations of the ships, and the escort vessels available.
If there were only a few of the convoy proceeding up the Saint George Channel and the Irish Sea, some of the Queenstown destroyers would immediately return to base, thereby being ready that much sooner for the next assignment.
If there was no submarine activity in the Irish Sea and Bristol Channel we would drop our convoy off the Smalls lighthouse which is at the western end of the southern Welsh peninsula. Here the final instructions would be given each master as to the route to be followed until arrival at Liverpool. If there was submarine activity in the Irish Sea the destroyers would have to continue as far as the Skerries. When it came near the time for the destroyers to part company with the convoy they were all on qui vive for the radio order, "Return to port." Immediately on its receipt, hard over would go the rudder, black smoke would come from the stacks, and speed increased to 20 knots for the run back to Queenstown. We may have been out six, seven, or even eight days, during which time we had been more or less on a nervous strain, there had been considerable discomfort for at least a part of the time, and the fresh provisions had not lasted through. The three days' rest before us at Queenstown looked very tempting, and we could not get there too soon.
At Queenstown
Everybody who served at Queenstown seems to have a kindly feeling for that place, this in spite of the arduous duties performed by all hands. There was, of course, a reason for this, and the reason was the considerate way in which those of us who were performing strenuous duty at sea were treated during our stay in port. The organization and administration of these Queenstown forces were so complete and perfect as to detail that everything always proceeded like clockwork.
As the destroyer neared the entrance to Queenstown Harbor she would flash, on the searchlight, the private signal for the day and her own distinguishing call. This immediately would be answered by the signal station high up on the hill at the harbor entrance. Before reaching Roche Point a signal to this effect would come: "From C-in-C to Wadsworth: Go alongside oil jetty," or "Moor to buoy number 3." Never did we have to wait for instructions, or to ask for them. As soon as we secured there was no question as to what was to be done. Immediately fires were allowed to die out and machinery disabled as necessary. We knew, unless orders were received to the contrary, that we would be in port for three days. Two at a time the destroyers would be refueled until this process was completed. The movement to and from the oil jetty was done by tugs so as not to interfere with our work on the machinery. All hands on all destroyers immediately turned-to to get the ships ready for the next tour of duty. This was done before resting.
Hardly would we be tied up when the repair officers from Melville or Dixie—whichever ship was mothering us—would come on board. There were Lieutenant Commanders Church, Dunn, Laird and Campbell, or their representatives, always on hand to find out what was wanted, and we always wanted something. The crews of the Melville and Dixie were busy night and day on the continuous duty of keeping these thirty-five destroyers in operative condition. Each destroyer was averaging over 6,000 miles running every month, and this in all kinds of weather and under trying conditions. By the middle of November, 1917, my own ship, the Wadsworth, had in its two years of commissioned life steamed 73,000 miles. We were no exception to the hard service seen by all. It is simply mentioned here to show why it should be expected that the Melville and Dixie were kept busy. And they never failed to complete their work on time.
Either on the day of arrival, or, on one of the following days before departure, the signal force would bring aft a message of this import: "From Admiral to Captain: If you have nothing better to do would you like to come to dinner at seven thirty tonight?" or, "Will you come and have tea with the niece and me this afternoon?" To which there was always sent back the same reply: "From Captain to Admiral: W.M.P.," which we had learned was the British Navy way of saying, "I accept with much pleasure."
The officers, of course, found their own means of amusement during stays in port. There was one general meeting place for all, the Royal Cork Yacht Club. Here the clans usually foregathered before proceeding on their devious ways; and here again they met before catching their boats back to their respective ships. Pleasant walks in the country were always available. There was tennis for those who liked tennis, and golf for those who liked that form of sport. For those who cared for society there were lots of charming people to meet who were always more than cordial to the American officers. Now and then there were informal dances. One part of the Admiralty grounds known as the "Sloop Garden," had been set aside by Admiral Bayly for the use of the Commanding Officers of the British sloops, and the families of such that happened to be at Queenstown. These courtesies were extended to the captains of the American destroyers. Here was a good tennis court in the midst of shade trees and lovely flowers which we were allowed to pick at will. And here the ladies, led by Mrs. Douglas, the charming American wife of Lieutenant Commander Douglas of the British Navy, dispensed tea during the afternoon sessions of tennis.
For the men, recreation was more difficult to find. This especially after Cork was placed out of bounds. There were nice attractive girls a plenty for the young men whose tastes inclined them that way; and quite a few were married in Queenstown. The amusement center was the Enlisted Men's Club, which was started by a donation from Americans in London. This club, from a modest beginning, grew to be a large well-managed affair—entirely in the hands of the enlisted men—excepting for such supervision as was desirable by a committee of officers. The club contained everything such a club should have, including a moving picture hall, and a restaurant, where the men could get a better meal at much less cost than was to be had in town. There were also limited sleeping accommodations.
Every Saturday night there was a vaudeville show, the performers of which came from the various American ships, with now and then the British sailors or marines furnishing a turn. On these Saturday night occasions all the officers in port usually attended, the gallery being turned over to them. Admiral Sims always went when he was in Queenstown. Efforts to get Admiral Bayly to attend were unsuccessful. It was rumored that he stated he was not going to attend any festivities until an American destroyer brought in a German submarine. He did attend the Saturday following the Fanning's successful coup.
I must not dwell too long on the pleasures of our short stays in port. But there was one pleasure that happened each time to all commanding officers; which pleasure was also a duty. This was the visit to Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly at 10 a.m. on the day following our arrival in port after a tour at sea. It was a standing order that such visit should be made, the time always being the same no matter what hour our ship got in. At ten o'clock the ''puff puff" boats would start leaving the destroyers, each carrying its respective commanding officer. At the dock we would gather in twos and threes and walk together up the steep hill to Admiralty House.
Here all of us would meet in the ante-room and wait for the Admiral to announce his readiness to see us. Sometimes there would be only five or six of us, and sometimes as many as fifteen or twenty. Then there was a comparison of experiences and a detail of happenings, with nearly everybody talking at once. Some had lost a ship of their convoy by its being torpedoed; somebody had picked up survivors; others had been through different trying experiences; while still others had found an amusing side to an incident. Whatever it was, each one unburdened himself to whichever of his associates would stop talking long enough to listen. Then when the messenger stepped in and announced that the Admiral would see us, a hush fell and we passed silently into the Admiral's office.
Sir Lewis was always seated at his desk with one or more official papers at hand. If he happened to be engrossed in something he did not look up immediately; but it was never long before he greeted us with:
"Good morning, gentlemen; please sit down."
Then he would listen to anything any of us had to report, and when finished he would say what he had to say, which usually was not much. Then would come:
"That is all, gentlemen; suppose you step down to the operations office and find out what your next duty will be."
It made no difference to us whether our interviews with the Admiral on these occasions were long or short, we were always glad they took place. We liked the personal interest he showed in our doings, and it often gave us opportunity to mention something that would otherwise never have been spoken or written. We were certainly kept in close personal touch with the Admiral, and it is the personal touch which appeals.
The operations office was in the basement, in what was formerly the billiard room. Now the billiard tables were covered over with boards and on them were spread charts on which were plotted the positions of convoys, submarines, etc. In this office we would be greeted by one of the three duty officers. Commander Herbert, Commander Grubb, or Lieutenant Commander Douglas, all of whom had seen long active service, and were having a spell of shore duty. Commander Grubb had completed three years of strenuous destroyer duty when he came to Queenstown. He was an active, efficient officer, cheerfulness being one of his chief characteristics. He always greeted me with a cheery: "Hello Wadsworth!" in which he pronounced the a like the a in bad.
Commander Herbert was a quieter man, but genial and pleasant withal. He was one of the dare-devils of the British service. While a few of us knew it was he, on whose head the Germans had placed a special price on account of the Baralong affair, this was not mentioned. In addition, he had been through several narrow escapes on submarines. Admiral Bayly liked to have such officers as Herbert serving under him. There was Captain Nasmith with the submarines at Berehaven, and, as soon as Captain Hyde left the Adventure, he was succeeded by Captain Gordon Campbell, the most successful and famous of the mystery ship captains. And it was not so very long before Captain E.R.G.R. Evans of Broke fame, and who was our liaison officer when the first American destroyers arrived at Queenstown, found himself under Sir Lewis Bayly's orders.
Convoy Experiences
Our chief difficulty with the convoys at first was the keeping of the ships together in a reasonably well defined formation. There was always a tendency to straggle on the part of some. This was not entirely the fault of the deck officers, but often due to the fire room and engine room forces. They were not used to steaming at an absolutely uniform number of revolutions minute after minute, and day after day. Some of the vessels of the convoy were making close to their maximum cruising speed, so when fires were cleaned the steam pressure dropped, and of course the speed was reduced, with the resultant falling behind of the ship concerned. The destroyers, at times, were kept busy rounding up the stragglers. In order to get a better viewpoint and to be in position to prod the laggards I always stationed my own ship, the Wadsworth, to cover the rear of these slow convoys. As we patrolled back and forth across the rear of the formation it was a simple matter to hail or signal any ship that was falling behind. The usual message was: "You must close up," and invariably the reply would come back: "We are doing our utmost." In fact on some ships which had the habit of lagging, we would get the reply before our message was sent. As soon as they saw our signalman start a message, out would shoot the answer:
"We are doing our utmost."
If a ship lagged too far astern, I would have the Wadsworth pass between that ship and the convoy. This often had the desired result. The smoke would begin to pour out of the stack, and slowly but surely this "doing our utmost" ship would regain position. I often wondered in those cases what took place between master and engineer officer on the one hand, and the engineer officer and firemen on the other hand. It was probably best illustrated in the old navy song which starts:
Oh, the Captain went below, and…etc.
During the early convoys the ships were widely scattered at daylight. The reasons for this were timidity on the part of those officers who were afraid of collision, and partly because the ships carried dimmed side and stern lights. At dark the ships would begin to open out and continue to do so, so long as the lights on the next ship could be seen. And these lights invariably showed farther than was intended. Gradually all lights were dispensed with, and it was found that the ships would then keep closed sufficiently to see the hulls of those next aboard. This was perfectly safe, especially after it became common practice not to zigzag during the dark hours.
Communications were a particularly difficult problem at first. Some of the ships carried only one radio operator, and no signalmen who understood the semaphore system. It was usually necessary in such cases to deliver a message by word of mouth through a megaphone. And this was not always easy when the wind was howling and a big sea was running. Often would the reply come back, "I don't hear you," when in reality was meant, "I do not understand you." At times there would be French, Italian, or Scandinavian ships sprinkled through the convoy. These often were a problem because sometimes they did not understand the English language. But we found out that while on most of these ships they did not understand plain English, they did have a working knowledge of good old English seagoing swear words. Commander Fremont told of his troubles in getting an Italian tramp merchant ship to understand a message. He tried international flag hoist, semaphore, radio, and megaphone; but all to no avail. Finally he ran close aboard and shouted through the megaphone: "You blank blank, blankety blank, when I hoist flag X you head south blank blank quick, savvy?" and without a moment's hesitation came the answer:
"All right, Sir!"
The signaling gradually improved with the placing of trained signalmen on every ship in the convoy, and, although the radio communication never reached a really satisfactory state, still it worked in emergencies.
However, as time went on the whole conduct of these merchant convoys improved. With the assignment of men-of-war as ocean escorts, and the detail of "commodores" to all convoys, there was a decided advancement in station keeping, signaling, etc. Especially was this evident in certain inbound convoys which had been carefully drilled on the trip across the Atlantic. On one occasion I had charge of an escort of eight destroyers with a convoy of thirty-two merchant ships. The Admiralty considered the escort not of sufficient strength, so eight British destroyers were sent from Plymouth to re-enforce us. At my request the British destroyers took station as an outer screen. One of them sighted a submarine and made the warning signal. Without the least bit of confusion the convoy and escort, a total of 48 ships, turned simultaneously eight points right, and the danger was successfully avoided.
It was my good fortune not to have a ship of any merchant convoy of which I commanded the escort, torpedoed. At times submarines were sighted, but they were kept down without getting in a position for attack. In these early days of the convoy there were strict orders that no escort vessel should leave the formation to hunt submarines. Of course if a submarine was sighted, the nearer destroyers would go after it and keep it under until the convoy was well out of range. But the destroyer would then cease the hunt and rejoin the convoy. Later, when depth charge barrages were in order, this was changed so that if a submarine was located, the destroyer would continue the hunt until all possible chance of getting the sub was gone.
One dark night while the Wadsworth was patrolling across the rear of a slow convoy, the officer of the deck. Ensign N.P. Earle, shouted through the speaking tube: "Dropped a depth charge, sir!" Immediately afterwards as I was jumping up the ladder to the bridge the explosion took place, followed shortly by the explosion of the second charge which had also been let go. The officer of the deck had seen what he felt sure was the luminous wake of a submarine running submerged. It passed from our quarter to ahead as if the submarine were going to attack the convoy from the rear. Both depth charges being gone. we circled looking for results. In a few minutes the radio operator through the speaking tube reported:
"Trippe reports striking a submerged object which listed her fifteen degrees." This of course was the submarine whose wake we had seen. Either our charges dropped close enough to shake him up or he was going ahead with his attempted attack when he unexpectedly bumped the Trippe. At any rate there was no attack on the convoy. A half hour later the radio operator reported hearing a German submarine fairly close aboard calling excitedly on the radio as if wanting help. Of course we could not decode the message, but were satisfied that this fellow had been sufficiently damaged to be making appeals for help to his next nearest confrere.
The detonations of depth charges near the ships of a convoy always gave them the impression that they were struck by something, and, until they were used to it, would so report to the escort vessels. Once in a while a ship would think herself torpedoed; and there were instances of their actually stopping and beginning to abandon ship by lowering boats, when the sole cause of their discomfiture was the explosion of a depth charge probably a half mile or more away.
While there was considerable monotony in the convoy duty, there were many things to keep one interested or uncomfortable. For example, there would be a machinery breakdown, necessitating the taking of the vessel in tow; or a ship would have its cargo shift leaving us to wonder whether or not she would turn turtle. If a ship was torpedoed there was the problem of picking up the survivors, or if the ship remained afloat, the problem of getting her into port. And of course we had a reasonable number of false alarms. I remember one case in particular where the escort destroyers were on a scouting line standing towards our expected inbound convoy. The atmosphere was unusually clear. Suddenly the masthead lookout reported:
"Conning tower of a submarine dead ahead."
We could not see it from the bridge, and shortly afterwards a rain squall in that direction shut out the horizon from view. The lookout was positive he had seen the submarine, so I sent radio to the ocean escort:
"Submarine sighted between the convoy and escort."
Shortly after this the rain squall passed by, and there, showing over the horizon, were the topmasts of the convoy which had for its ocean escort the auxiliary cruiser Moldavia. This was a large merchant ship with two smokestacks, and it dawned on me at once that what the lookout had mistaken for the conning tower of a submarine were the two smokestacks, almost in line, over the horizon. So I sent radio to the Moldavia: "False alarm, lookout mistook smokestacks for conning tower."
The Commodore was evidently not pleased with the scare we had given him, and when we ran close aboard to deliver orders he shouted in a sarcastic tone:
"I congratulate you on your fine lookout."
Which remark I ignored by answering:
"I have the following orders for you from the Admiralty," and went ahead and gave him the orders.
We had our navigational difficulties. When proceeding to meet a convoy, it was necessary of course, that our position be accurately known at all times. This was difficult in view of the large proportion of cloudy and foggy weather which prevailed in those waters. Fortunately these poor visibility conditions did not often last long at a time. But there were occasions when twenty-four to forty-eight hours would pass by without getting a sight. When we once joined company with the convoy our navigational responsibilities ended, until we again separated. The Commodore of the convoy was responsible for its safe navigation. However, there were instances where the Commodore would call on the escort commander for his position.
An illustration of this happened when on one occasion we were presumably nearing the Smalls with a convoy composed of ships for Liverpool and for Bristol. There being no submarine activity in the Irish Sea, the convoy was to disperse at the Smalls. But we had been proceeding on dead reckoning for thirty-six hours, and the chances of sighting the lighthouse were slim indeed. The Commodore of the convoy signaled the Wadsworth requesting my position. So I directed all destroyers to take soundings and report their estimated positions. Taking the mean of all these as being as accurate as possible under the conditions, the result was sent to the Commodore. I also signaled, suggesting a change in course. The Commodore did not agree with the position sent nor the suggested change, and so signaled. There was then nothing left for me to do but to remind him that he was responsible for the safe navigation of the convoy. While this interchange of signals was going on, we received a message from one of the Bristol ships. It was: "Please do not abandon us until we are able to ascertain our position." However, this appeal had to be ignored as so long as the lead was resorted to no ship should get into trouble. When I guessed we were off the Smalls, signal was made to the destroyers to return to Queenstown.
Under these conditions it was not so easy to find the Daunt lightship. Ordinarily navigation off the Irish coast is simple because the water is deep close to the headlands, and on these headlands are excellent sound signals. But on account of mines we were directed to keep at least five miles off all headlands. And in the Saint George Channel there were the same wind conditions that are found elsewhere in the foggy districts. That is, the on shore wind brought the fog, so that ships approaching the land were to windward of the sound signals which could not penetrate to a distance of five miles seaward.
When it was foggy, which was frequent, the destroyers would feel their way in as best they could. Sometimes we would pick up the gun signal on Ballycottin to the eastward, or the double gun on Old Kinsale to the westward. At times there were dead angles in these sound signals, and destroyers would run by the Daunt lightship fairly close aboard without hearing it, winding up dangerously close to the beach in Kinsale Harbor or some other place. On one occasion the Wadsworth, in a thick fog ran close aboard the Daunt lightship without hearing the fog signal. The red light on the mast gave the first intimation of our proximity to it. But once we were on our way for Queenstown we kept going until the "hole in the wall" was found.
As the fall progressed and winter approached the weather got worse and worse. That is, the percentage of strong winds, rough seas, and thick weather increased. My own personal experiences ended in the middle of November when I was detached from the Wadsworth and ordered home to command a new destroyer. But to show what the conditions were, and what the coming winter had in store for those who were destined to remain, it may be well to state my own experience during the last month of my stay. During these thirty days the Wadsworth made three escort trips, each time taking out a convoy and bringing one back. The times required to complete these trips were eight days, seven days, and seven days respectively. Thus out of thirty days we were twenty-two at sea, and on eighteen of these days it was too rough to spread our mess tables.
During November the Queenstown forces began to be augmented by the addition of new destroyers. Prior to my departure for the United States, the Duncan, Commander Roger Williams, arrived, and as the Bridge, Commander Riddle, sailed out of the harbor on November 17, 1917, we passed the Balch, Commander W.S. Miller, and the Dournes, Commander Allen Buchanan, standing in for the first time. From then on the force gradually increased in size until about June 1, 1918. Then Brest was made into a United States destroyer base, and the destroyers were approximately equally divided between these two places.
The thirty-five destroyers which operated out from Queenstown during the patrol period and the time of the early convoys, were a part of the old flotilla which had grown up under tutelage of the present Admirals Eberle, Sims, and Cleaves. Their personnel—officers and men—were well drilled and seasoned veterans. Our officer strength had been increased by the addition of that unusually fine body of young naval reserve officers who had volunteered their services, and who were the first to complete the strenuous three months' course at the Naval Academy. But now came the time to break up these excellent crews. There were a hundred or more new destroyers nearing completion. The Bureau of Navigation had no trained personnel to place on board them, so a cablegram was sent to Admiral Sims asking if he could help the Department out. Admiral Sims happened to be in Queenstown on the day this cablegram arrived. There were seven destroyers in port, and the seven commanding officers were organized into a board to make recommendations. We met in Captain Pringle's cabin at nine in the morning and sat continuously until five that evening, when the report was completed. The recommendations briefly summarized were: (1) that the Department should immediately begin sending to Queenstown a definite number of more or less inexperienced officers and men for distribution by the Commander of the Destroyer Force; (2) that for each new destroyer to be placed in commission the Queenstown force would send to the United States a nucleus crew made up of an experienced commanding officer, one other experienced officer, and twenty-five experienced petty officers, seamen, and firemen.
The recommendations were approved, and the middle of November saw the beginning of the gradual disintegration of the destroyer crews when the Bridge sailed for home, having on board Commanders Johnson, Vernou, and myself, three junior officers, and seventy-five men, as the nucleus crews for three new destroyers. It was sad that this had to be done, but it was the only thing that could be done under the circumstances.
This method of organizing nucleus crews for new destroyers continued until the Armistice was signed a year later. The result was that when these first thirty-five destroyers to operate abroad finally sailed for home, there was hardly an officer and man left on them who had been in the original crews. But the greater part of them had returned to the War Zone and were operating out of Queenstown, Brest, or Gibraltar, on the new destroyers.
But there was a good side to this necessary turn-over in personnel. It gave just that many more officers and men the opportunity to operate from Queenstown as a base, and thereby see, as an object lesson for the future, as fine an example of sound organization, efficient administration, and excellent high command, as has ever existed anywhere.
From the uncertainty which at first prevailed as to the outcome of this experiment in co-operation between the naval forces of the two nations, there had developed a feeling of confidence which was well expressed by Admiral Bayly's order to all the ships of the station issued in September, a little more than four months after the arrival of the first destroyers. This order follows:
Admiral's Office, Queenstown,
No. W. 102-A.
11th September, 1917.
MEMORANDUM.
The Commander-in-chief wishes to congratulate Commanding Officers on the ability, quickness of decision and willingness which they have shown in their duties of attacking submarines and protecting trade. These duties have been new to all and have had to be learned from the beginning and the greatest credit is due for the results.
2. The winter is approaching with storms and thick weather; the enemy shows an intention to strike harder and more often; but I feel perfect confidence in those who are working with me that we shall wear him down, and utterly defeat him in the face of all difficulties. It has been an asset of the greatest value that the two navies have worked together with such perfect confidence in each other and with that friendship which mutual respect alone can produce.
Lewis Bayly,
Vice Admiral,
Commander-in-Chief.
The Commanding Officers,
U.S. Ships Melville and Dixie; H.M.S. Adventure; and all U.S. Destroyers and H.M. Sloops based on Queenstown.
(To be concluded)
