Outside of Moscow, reportedly on the location of one of the principal stavkas of the 1941 defense of the city from the German invasion, now stands the so-called Main Cathedral of Russian Armed Forces.
Built by popular subscription (with lots of help from the military and government) the immense Eastern Orthodox church is a living, breathing memory to the Russian (not Soviet) effort against Hitler in the Great Patriotic War. Opened over the weekend in a 3 hour-long ceremony attended by much brass to include the Minister of Defense, the facility is half WWII shrine/half church
Of interest, the giant steel doors to the cathedral include a fallen German eagle at the feet of very un-Soviet-like traditional Russian martial patron saints and is reportedly cast from metal that includes recycled German panzer treads, armor, and road wheels.
If a part of you that is interested in collecting vintage WWII guns screamed out into the night, have no fear, as the Russians still have warehouses full of the stuff and they reportedly just melted down the low-end of their stock for the cathedral.
A video of part of the arms holdings still on hand in Vladimir, outside of Moscow, is below.
Here we see an image, taken 8 February 1945 in the woods near Echternach, Luxembourg, showing very muddy Soldiers of 3rd Battalion, 417th Regiment, 75th Infantry Division (“Bulge Busters”), cleaning their M1 Garands and M1918A2 BAR “before moving up to the line.”
L to R: Pvt. Dom Bocci: 379 Boyleston St., Newton Centre, Mass.; Pvt. Russell J. Sacriol, (?) 151 Canterbury St., Worcester, Mass.; Pvt. John Ducharme, Glover Road, Millbury, Mass. Signal Corps image 111-SC-364288 via the LOC
The shot reminds me greatly of a Willie & Joe cartoon from the redoubtable Bill Mauldin, an artist who cut his teeth as a teenager in the 45th Infantry Division in 1940 and knew a thing or three about what he drew.
Warship Wednesday, June 10, 2020: Yes, but these go to 17 inches
Naval History and Heritage Command Photo NH 88710
Here we see the gleaming white late 19th-century Italian turret “ironclad” (corazzata) Caio Duilio (also sometimes seen as “Gaius Duilius”) at the La Spezia Navy Yard, around the time of her completion in 1880. Important to naval history as she was the first blue-water battlewagon on Earth rigged only with a military mast rather than a sail rig, carried only stupidly enormous guns, and likewise was the first two-shaft capital ship in the Italian Navy, Duilio also had the neatest stern-launched torpedo boat– but we’ll get into that in a minute.
The Regia Marina was one of the newest navies in the world in the 1870s, having just formed in the previous decade via an amalgamation of the old Sardinian, Partenopea, Sicilian, Tuscany, and Pontifical fleets. In the driver’s seat across much of three decades off and on during this early period as Naval Minister was Benedetto Brin with the blessing of Sardinian ADM Simone Antonio Saint-Bon– Italy’s Tirpitz. A trained naval engineer, Brin sought to build not only the King’s fleet but also to the infrastructure to domestically produce all the things needed for a steel navy from shipyards and engine works to armor and gun factories.
Saint-Bon and Brin’s first large-scale effort was the colossal Caio Duilio and her near-sister Enrico Dandolo.
Some 12,000-tons full load, these beasts were iron-hulled with a heavy layer of French-made Creusot steel plates stacked as thick as 21.6 inches in places and backed by twice that amount of timber. With a hull separated into 83 watertight compartments, they were built to absorb damage and they had a 15-foot submerged bow wedge that served as a ram. Equipped with eight boilers driving a pair of vertical compound engines, these ships were designed to make 15 knots.
Then there were the guns.
Throughout their design and construction, several armament schemes were brainstormed until it was decided to fit these leviathans with a quartet of 17.7″ (450mm) /20 calibers “100 Ton” muzzleloading rifles made by Elswick/Armstrong in England, making them the most powerful battleships of the time. These immense pieces actually weighed 103 tons but fired a 2,000-pound shell which, in its AP format, could smash through 21 inches of the steel plate of the day. On the downside, they had a short range (6,000 yards) and an abysmal rate of fire (four rounds per hour).
Originally designed by EOC with the Royal Navy in mind, the Admiralty turned the guns down for being too heavy and cumbersome, leaving Italy as the other fleet that mounted these giant toms on a warship. In British Army, however, did later acquire six of these pieces for installation in coastal artillery batteries at Gibraltar and Malta, ironically as a direct result of the Italian purchase should they ever come to blows with the Duilio-class ships.
As Italy was at the time allied with Imperial Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, her navy’s natural enemy was seen as France and in the early 1880s the two Duilio-class ships, with their eight 17.7-inch guns, were considered capable of keeping in check the entire French Mediterranean fleet.
The transport of these huge rifles from England to Italy and their subsequent testing was avidly followed by the Italian press of the era.
100-ton 17.72-inch rifled Armstrong gun being loaded onto the Italian transport ship Europa at Newcastle England bound for Italy. One of eight such guns sold to Italy to arm the Duilio-class battleships.
In October 1876 the first 100-ton gun for the Italian Duilio-class battleships was taken over in Newcastle, named “Margherita” and shipped to Italy on the steamer Europa. This illustration shows its arrival in La Spezia later in October. The L’Illustrazione Italiana No. 54 from November 5, 1876, had an article on page 363 and this picture on page 364. The illustrator is not mentioned, but the signature says something like “Cenni”. Note the inset with the shell compared to an Italian tar. Via Wikimedia Commons
In November 1876 the first 100-ton gun for the Italian Duilio-class battleships was tested at Muggiano near La Spezia. This illustration of the gun named “Margherita” was featured in the November 12, 1876 issue of the L’Illustrazione Italiana. This picture was on page 373, with an article on page 374. The illustrator is not mentioned, but there is both a set of initials and a signature that reads something like “Canedi”. Via Wikimedia Commons
The tests of the 100-ton gun at La Specia continued to capture the Italian public. The experiments apparently also included putting a man into the belly of the beast, plus entertaining the numerous guests who wanted a first-hand look at what was arguably the most potent gun in the world at the time. This illustration of the gun Margherita was featured in the November 26, 1876 issue of the L’Illustrazione Italiana. This picture was on page 405, with an article on page 407-410. The illustrator is referred to as “Signore A. P.” Via Wikimedia Commons
The guns were arranged in two twin turrets, offset from each other.
Which required an interesting loading process since they were front-stuffers. Keep in mind that the rate of fire on these pieces was one round every quarter-hour.
In addition to their main guns, the battleships carried another recent invention in the form of a trio of submerged torpedo tubes for 14-inch Whitehead torpedos. These early devices could make 20.7 knots, had a range of 833 yards, and packed a 94-pound warhead. Italy would order an initial batch of 34 of these tin fish, produced at Fiume, in 1879-80, then continue to buy small batches until they moved to larger diameter torpedoes in the 1890s.
One other surprise that just Duilio was outfitted for was the carry of a stern-launched steam torpedo boat, the 76-foot, 26-ton Clio. The vessel was housed, combat-ready, in an 82x13x13-foot well deck, something that was really unheard of in the 1870s.
Constructed in England by Thornycroft to a design by Italian engineer Luigi Borghi, Clio was equipped with a pair of stern-dropped 14-inch Whitehead torpedoes– the same used by the battleship’s own submerged tubes– and a 37mm deck gun. She could make 18 knots on her coal-fired locomotive boiler but was a day runner with no accommodation for her 10-man crew. Model at the Museo Storico Navale, photos by Emil Petrinic.
Clio’s stack and mast folded to allow her to enter the battleship’s well deck.
Both ships also carried four 39-foot steam launches on their stern deck that could mount a 37mm gun and could deploy mines.
Clio on display in Torino, l’Esposizione italiana del 1884, Via the Cronaca illustrata
Construction
When it came to construction, both ships were laid down on the same day, 1 June 1873, with Duilio, named after Roman naval hero Gaius Duilius, having her keel laid at Regio Cantiere di Castellammare di Stabia (which today is Fincantieri) and her sister Dandolo at R. Arsenale di La Spezia with the lead ship completed in 1880 and Dandolo tarrying until 1882.
The launch of the Italian battleship Caio Duilio in Castellamare in 1876. Illustrator’s name was quoted as “Piteco” via the L’Illustrazione italiana, May 28, 1876.
A detailed view was taken on the ship’s starboard side amidships, looking forward sometime after 1890 as they have 37mm anti-torpedo boat guns mounted atop the turrets. Both of the ship’s twin 450mm (17.72-inch) main battery gun turrets, mounted en echelon amidships, can be seen in this view. Note the details of the opened turret port covers; the hammocks stowed around the turrets, and the “flying deck” running overhead. NH 88685
DANDOLO Photographed on the ways at the Royal Navy Yard, La Spezia, not too long before launch on 10 July 1878. Note the large opening in the hull amidships for installation of the 45-meter-long, 550-meter-thick iron armor belt. The hull was built of iron, with wood backing for the armor. NH 88759
DANDOLO Photographed at the Royal Navy Yard, La Spezia, not too long before being launched on July 10, 1878. Here you can really see the 15-foot submerged bow. Note that the ship’s short midship armor belt-550mm thick iron 45 meters long-was not yet installed at this time. Thick wooden backing supported the armor, explaining the very deep gap in the ship’s side that can be seen here. Note the submerged bow tube for Whitehead torpedoes. NH 88684
Service
Caio Duilio on trials. Via the Italian weekly L’Illustrazione Italiana, June 1, 1879 edition, Wikicommons
DANDOLO Probably photographed soon after completion in 1882. These ships were completed in an all-white scheme and then after 1889 changed to a black and buff. NH 88711
DANDOLO, likely in the late 1880s. Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation, Washington DC Catalog #: NH 74828
While huge, impressive ships, they were something of white elephants (see what I did there?) as naval technology soon passed them by, and Italy, except for mixed results in North Africa, had nothing in the way of colonial enterprises to protect. Therefore, their entire career took place in the central and Eastern Mediterranean and was spent in peacetime training exercises, regional port visits, and the like.
In 1890, the ships would receive three 4.7″/40cal, two 3-inch, eight 57mm, and 22 37mm guns to defend against small torpedo boats.
Colorized photo of the crew of the Battleship Duilio (Italia) posed in front of one of her 17.7-inch turrets sometime in the 1890s. Note the small-caliber guns, 37mm 1-pounders, atop the turret.
Postcard of Duilio in the 1890s. Note her two 3″ stingers over the stern and two of her four 40-foot steam launches shown stowed.
DANDOLO underway in the Canal at Taranto, Italy, on 24 February 1894, bristling with small guns. Farenholt Collection. NH 66131
Duilio was increasingly sidelined and was withdrawn from fleet use in 1900, lingering on for a few years as the school ship Timonieri e Marò and a floating coastal defense battery until she was disarmed in 1906. Clio, her parisite torpedo boat, would be disposed of in 1903. Struck from the naval list in 1909, her superstructure was demolished and she would later be converted to a coal and oil storage hulk, dubbed GM40, and fade into history.
Her sister Dandolo would be rebuilt in 1898-1900 with new engines and be fitted with breechloading 10-inch guns in place of her massive 100-ton muzzleloaders. She would also pick up a wide array of smaller guns, seal off her bow torpedo tubes, and gain four deck-mounted 450mm tubes arranged bow, beam, and stern. She would continue in this manner through 1918, serving as a coastal defense ship during the Great War, until she was finally disposed of in January 1920.
The monicker Duilio by then had been recycled for an Andrea Doria-class battleship that served in both World Wars and was scrapped in 1957. The third Duilio was an Andrea Doria-class helicopter cruiser (C 554) that served throughout the Cold War. The fourth and current Italian warship to bear the name of Rome’s famous admiral is an Orizzonte-class destroyer (D 554) commissioned in 2008.
The original vessel endures in various series of popular period maritime art.
Duilio, Italian Navy, trade card from the “Naval Vessels of the World” series (N226), issued in 1889 to promote Kinney Tobacco Company. Via The Met
And, as already shown off in the above details of her parasite torpedo boat, there are some very nice scale models on public display.
This impressive model of the armored ship Duilio was built by Jürgen Eichardt on a scale of 1:100. It is displayed in the Internationales Maritimes Museum Hamburg’s exhibition on the history of the modern navies, on deck 9 of the museum.
Specs:
Longitudinal Section of the Warship Duilio Italian battleship. This view shows inboard (internal) features of the ship, including half the ship’s 8 oval boilers, the hull framing outboard of the starboard (forward) twin 450mm (17.72inch) gun turret, and the large open compartment aft used to carry a small torpedo boar. This space measured 25 x 4 x 4m in size. Via Ocean Steamships 1891
Displacement: Standard 11,138 tons; full load 12,265 tons
Length: 358 ft oa over ram, 339 pp
Beam: 64 ft.
Draft: 29 ft.
Machinery: 2 double-expansion vertical steam engines, 8 oval-section boilers, 8,045 shp, 2 propellers
Speed: 15 knots designed
Range: 2,875 mn at 13 knots; 3,760 nm at 10 knots on 1,000 tons coal
Crew: 26 officers + 397 enlisted (1880) 515 (1890)
Armor:
Belt 550 mm.
Bridge 50 mm.
Turrets 250 mm.
Tower 350 mm.
Armament:
(1880)
2 x 2 450mm/20 caliber Armstrong
3 bow 350mm torpedo tubes
(Added 1890)
3 x 120 mm
2 x 75 mm
8 x 57 mm
22 x 37 mm
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The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
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Warship Wednesday, June 3, 2020: Father Neptune’s Thundering Mountain
Artwork by Charles Parsons, lithograph by W. Endicott & Co. Courtesy of the Library of Congress. LC-USZC4-2330
Here we see the envisioned Union Navy ironclad screw ram USS Dunderberg in a late Civil War-era lithograph. Such an impressive vessel, completed during perhaps the most significant “modern” war of the mid-19th Century, should have been the stuff of legend, yet today is virtually unknown.
About that.
A massive 350-long, 7,500-ton ram-bowed casemate ironclad– keep in mind CSS Virginia (ex-USS Merrimack) was only 275-feet, 4,000-tons– Dunderberg sprang from the mind of New York City naval architect William H. Webb the month after aforementioned Virginia debuted off Hampton Roads.
The world’s longest wooden-hulled ship (at the time) “Dunderberg” came from the Swedish word meaning “thunder(ing) mountain,” and Webb intended to back up the moniker with as many as 18 large (11- and 15-inch) Dahlgren and Rodman guns. This armament would be carried in a pair of revolving “Timby” turrets atop the casemate battery, a structure which itself would carry the bulk of the pieces.
The whole affair was to be protected by an armor sheath that ran over a foot thick in places and weighed over 1,000 tons in and of itself. The wooden hull was doubled and equipped with pumps
Powered by six boilers that by any but pre-1860’s standard would be considered primitive, it was envisioned for the beast to make an astonishing speed of 15-knots, enabling her 50-foot solid bow ram to smash unprotected man-o-wars to splinters. Keep in mind that Webb was at the same time under contract to construct the innovative 38-gun broadside ironclad frigates Re d’Italia and Re di Portogallo for Italy, which ironically would be the object of skillful Austrian ramming in 1866 at the Battle of Lissa.
The Sailor’s Magazine, and Naval Journal, Volume 38, noted that “In every respect, the Dunderberg will be the ship of the age, and her performances will no doubt create a sensation here as well as in Europe.”
Dunderberg under construction, note her serious 50-foot ram “beak.” E & H T Anthony & Co. Stereocard. Gift of Dwight Demeritt via Brooklyn Naval Yard Center
So why didn’t Farragut hoist his flag on the mighty Dunderberg as he damned the torpedos? Well, time wore on and design changes mounted, forcing the ship, which was laid down 3 October 1862, to only launch on 22 July 1865– notably more than three months after the War Between the States had already effectively ended at Appomattox Court House. Her armor was different and noticeably thinner. She never did get those turrets. She ended up slower than planned and had the handling of a buffalo while in the water.
Ironclad Ram Dunderberg. Line engraving published in Harper’s Weekly, 5 August 1865, depicting the ship’s launching at William H. Webb’s shipyard, New York City, on 22 July 1865 before a crowd of 20,000. Courtesy of Donald M. McPherson, 1971. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. Catalog #: NH 73985
Floating, incomplete in New York harbor, the New York Times of the day shrewdly observed, “it was expected that long since she would have participated in the splendid naval engagements that have marked the history of our navy during the rebellion; but owing to various causes, the delay in her machinery and the contemplated change by the government in her original design, the bright anticipations respecting her have not been realized.”
Meanwhile, down in Washington, the 24th United States Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles, Mr. Lincoln’s fabled “Father Neptune,” noted in his diary in July 1865 that public detractors such as Republican lawmaker Henry Winter Davis had during the war attacked the Navy Department for not having a fleet of such “formidable vessels,” saying:
I had vessels for the purposes then wanted. Ships of a more expensive and formidable character, like the Dunderberg, could not be built in a day. Now, when they are likely not to be wanted, and when they are drawing near completion, the same class of persons abuse me for what I have done towards building a formidable navy.
With Lincoln marching to the great parade grounds in the sky and an unpopular Vice President-turned-President Andrew Johnson in a now-peacetime and cash-strapped Oval Office, the Navy, as well as the rest of the federal government, had to tighten their belts. Father Neptune’s intrepid fleet, the largest in the Western hemisphere and arguably the most modern in the world in 1865, was sold off, laid-up, sent to the breakers, or otherwise reduced to a shadow of its former self and would remain that way for the next 25 years.
Wells in late 1865 had to make do with two brand-new seagoing monitors, the 4,400-ton USS Dictator (2x 15-inch Dahlgren guns) and the larger 5,000-ton USS Puritan (2×20-inch Dahlgrens), which were nominally completed, to be used by the Navy for the intended purpose of breaking any future blockade from overseas adversaries such as England and had no place in the budget to purchase Dunderberg, much less pay the anticipated 600 bluejackets needed to crew her. As it was, both Dictator and Puritan were immediately placed in ordinary with the latter never even fully commissioned.
With that, Dunderberg languished in Webb’s yard for months as she remained in limbo, ordered by the Navy and partially built with public funds, but never put into service.
Eventually, the government of Emperor Napolean III sought to acquire the vessel– reportedly so that the Prussians did not– and Webb sold her to the French who placed her in service as Rochambeau. As such, she only went on her sea trials in 1867. The purchase price allowed Webb to refund the dollars advanced to him during the war by Wells to construct her, although the jury is still out on if the shipbuilder turned a profit on the vessel.
Line engraving published in Harper’s Weekly, 25 May 1867, showing the ship as she appeared on trials in New York Bay in April 1867. NH 95123
Once Rochambeau made it to Cherbourg, her Dahlgrens were landed and replaced with 14 smaller domestically made guns for commonality with the rest of the French fleet.
A poor sea boat, she was rebuilt in 1868 and was never really satisfactory, although she was, for better or worse, the most powerful ship in the Marine Impériale.
Photograph, taken from above and off the ship’s port bow, while she was drydocked in a French dockyard, prior to 1872. Credited to the well-known photographic firm of Marius Bar, of Toulon, France.
From Frederick Martin’s The Statesman’s Year-book of the era:
During the war with Germany in 1870, Rochambeau saw no service of note although her crew was landed and sent to Paris for the defense and later siege of the great city. Ultimately, the great ironclad was scrapped in 1874, less than a decade after she was launched.
La Flotte de Nos Jours/No. 29/Le ROCHAMBEAU/Garde-Cotes Cuirasse, A Reduit Central, Marchant ven debout A Moyenne Vapeur, (Force de 1300 chevaux), Dessine et Lithographie par Mmorel-Fatio, Imp. Becquet, rue des Noyers, 36, Paris, E. Morier, Edit. rue St. Andres des Arts, 52., M.F.
Le Rochambeau Monitor cuirassé de la Marine Impériale. Commandé par le capitaine de vaisseau Bonie par Charles Leduc, 1870. Lithographie en couleur sur papier. Hauteur de la feuille en mm 498 ; Largeur de la feuille en mm 337 ; Hauteur de la planche en mm 630 ; Largeur de la planche en mm 500. Monitor cuirassé de la Marine Impériale – Force 5000 chevaux – Longueur 380 pieds – Largeur 72 pieds – Longueur de l’éperon 50 pieds – Le cuirassé pèse 1000 tonneaux – Vitesse 15 nœuds à l’heure – 18 canons. Paris, F. Sinnett, Editeur, rue d’Argenteuil 17. Imp. Becquet, Paris. Numéro d’inventaire : Bx M 1525 (Bonie 2128). Legs Bonie, 1895. Via the Collections Musees Bordeaux
Specs:
Combrig, from their 1:700 Scale model
Displacement: 5,090 registered; 7,725 full
Length: 352 ft 4 in (p/p), 380 ft extreme
Beam: 72 ft 8 in
Draft: 21 ft 4 in
Propulsion 6 Tubular boilers + 2 donky boilers, 1 shaft, 2 horizontal back-acting steam engines, 5000shp (designed) 4000 in practice
Sail plan: Brigantine rig
Speed: 15+ knots designed, 14~ knots actual
Range: 1,200 nmi at 8 knots on 1,000 tons coal
Complement: 600
Armor:
(As designed, up to 15 inches thick)
(As built)
Waterline belt: 3.5–2.8 in
Deck: 0.7 in
Casemate: 4.7 in
Conning tower: 9.8 in
Armament:
(Designed)
4 x 15-inch Rodman in two turrets
14 x 11-inch Dahlgren guns in casemate
(In French service)
4 x 10.8-inch Mle 1864/66 guns
10 x 9.4-inch Mle 1864/66 guns
If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships you should belong.
A North American P-51 Mustang of the USAAF, nicknamed “My Girl,” takes off from Iwo Jima in the Bonin Islands, 1 June 1945.
LC-USZ62-93535
As noted by the WW2 Database, My Girl is a P-51D-20NA of 457th Fighter Squadron in the 20th Air Force’s 506th Fighter Group, which was stationed at Iwo’s North Field at the time, specializing in conducting 1,500-mile round trips escorting B-29s over Japan. That would explain the two large drop tanks.
Of note:
One of the greatest limiting factors of fighter escorts from Iwo was the human factor. The B-29 was heated and pressurized. Compared to the unheated, unpressurized P-51, the bomber crews sat in secure comfort. The punishment on the fighter pilots’ bodies was compounded by the extremely high altitudes they flew to escort the bombers, usually more than 30,000 feet. This was several thousand feet higher than fighter pilots flew in Europe, escorting B-17 and B-24 bombers. The round trip from Iwo to Japan and back was nine hours, spent in a physically battered state.
L’armée française – 1.er volume by Édouard Detaille vol 1 title page showing the old Napoleanic Army meeting the 1880s modern French infantry Credit line: (c) Royal Academy of Arts
The French Army’s 106e Régiment d’Infanterie (106e RI) has a long history, with a lineage dating back unofficially to 1622 before its number appeared as the 106th Line Infantry Rgt in 1792.
In 1939, at the dawn on WWII, the 106th’s flag was decorated with fourragères, the Médaille militaire, and the Croix de guerre with no less than four palms. On its body, it carried four Coalition/Napoleonic battle honors (Biberach 1796, Gênes 1800, Wagram 1809, Malojaroslawetz 1812) and four from the Great War (Les Éparges 1915, L’Aisne 1917, Montddidier 1918, Mont D’Origny 1918).
A monument to the regiment’s bloody WWI service, crafted by renowned sculptor Maxime Real del Sarte– who himself had lost an arm in 1915– was erected on the crest of the Éparges battlefield in 1935. It had seen the elephant at Austerlitz in 1805, endured the Siege of Paris in 1870, and been bled white on the Western Front in 1918.
Modernized in 1939, the 106th was redesignated the 106e RIM (régiment d’infanterie motorisée) as part of the French 12th Motorised Infantry Division (12e DIM) at Reims.
When the “Phony War” went deadly serious on 10 May 1940, fighting as part of the French 1st Army, they ended up holding the line at Dunkirk while the British Expeditionary Forces were largely withdrawn following the Allied collapse in Northern France.
Dunkirk 26-29 May 1940 British troops line up on the beach at Dunkirk to await evacuation, IWM
Trapped in the Lille Pocket along with some 40,000 other fighters, the French fought like lions for half a week and in a counterattack were even able to capture the headquarters of German Maj. Gen. Fritz Kühne, with Herr Kühne in tow.
However, a pocket can only ever be wiped out or relieved and no one was coming to get the 106e RIM out of their jam.
Under an agreement brokered by French Maj. Gen. Jean-Baptiste Molinié, the men of the Lille Pocket laid down their arms– for which they largely had no more ammunition– on 1 June 1940, some 80 years ago today.
Churchill himself later noted, “These Frenchmen, under the gallant leadership of General Molinié, had for four critical days contained no less than seven German divisions which otherwise could have joined in the assaults on the Dunkirk perimeter. This was a splendid contribution to the escape of their more fortunate comrades of the BEF.”
As for the 106th, the regiment’s commander, Col. Louis Félicien Marcel Tardu, ordered the regimental badges and medals be thrown in the bottom of the pond of Lille’s historic Château d’Avelin and the historic flag and its pole doused in gasoline and burned.
However, the Germans arrived before this could be done and, instead, the cased ensign was entrusted to the regiment’s priest who quickly buried it on the chateau’s grounds before being captured himself. The priest was later able to pass on the banner’s location to a local who, once the front lines shifted, was able to collect the relic and hide it for safekeeping.
When Liberation came on 26 August 1944, the banner saw sunlight and was paraded once again, at the head of a band of reformed French troops.
While the 106th is not one of the nine standing French army Metropolitain infantry regiments today, it is far from forgotten and its WWII flag is still retained by the force. The regiment’s motto was “Toujours debout,” which translates to, “Still standing.”
Warship Wednesday, May 27, 2020: The Showboat and the Speedboats
Photograph by Walter E. Frost, City of Vancouver Archives Photo No. 447-2863.1
Here we see the lead ship of her class of “treaty-era” heavy cruisers, HMS York (90) looming out of the fog in Vancouver, British Columbia, on 10 August 1938.
Sometimes referred to as the “Cathedral” class cruisers, York and her near-sister HMS Exeter (68) were essentially cheaper versions of the Royal Navy’s baker’s dozen County-class cruisers, the latter of which were already under-protected to keep them beneath the arbitrary 10,000-ton limit imposed by the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922. Weighing in at 8,250 tons, the Yorks were intended not for fleet action but for the role of sitting on an overseas station and chasing down enemy commerce raiders in the event of war.
York mounted six 8″/50 (20.3 cm) Mark VIII guns in three twin Mark II mounts. Fairly capable guns, they could fire a 256-pound SAP shell out past 30,000 yards at a (theoretical) rate of up to six rounds per gun per minute. Importantly, they carried 172 rounds per gun, up from the 125-150 carried by the preceding County-class, a factor which allowed a slightly longer engagement time before running empty.
Bow turrets of HMS York. Photograph by Mrs. Josephine Burston, via Navweaps
Rounding out the cruisers’ offensive armament was a half-dozen deck-mounted 21-inch torpedo tubes and a battery of DP 4-inch guns and Vickers machine guns to ward off aircraft, the latter of which was apparently never installed. Built with overseas service in mind, they could cover 10,000nm at 14 knots. Able to achieve 32.3 knots due to having 80,000-ship via Parsons geared steam turbines, they sacrificed armor protection for speed and magazine space, with just 1 inch of steel on their turrets and a belt that was just 3 inches at its thickest.
As noted by Richard Worth in his excellent tome, Fleets of World War II:
In trimming down the County layout, designers managed to retain several features, though sea keeping suffered. Protection also received low priority; the armor scheme (similar in proportion to the County type) included some advances, but all in all, the Yorks seemed even more vulnerable, especially in the machinery spaces.
Ordered 1926 Build Programme, York was the ninth such RN vessel to carry the name since 1654 and was constructed at Palmers Shipbuilding and Iron Company, Jarrow. Commissioned on 1 May 1930, she was a striking vessel for her age. A true peacetime cruiser.
British Royal Navy heavy cruiser HMS York (90) secured to a buoy 1930 IWM FL 4185
York’s motto was Bon Espoir (“Good Hope”) borrowed from Edmund Langley, First Duke of York, and she exemplified that in her early career.
For the next decade, she would embark on a series of “waving the flag” port visits around the globe as she shifted between North America and West Indies Station to the Mediterranean Fleet.
HMS York sails past the Finnish sea fortress Suomenlinna on September 3, 1933, Mosin
A beautiful ship, she was often the subject of amazing period photos and newsreel footage.
HMS York in Admiralty Floating Dock No. 1 at Royal Naval Dockyard, Bermuda in 1934. York served as the flagship of the 8th Cruiser Squadron on the America and West Indies Station based at the Royal Naval Dockyard on Ireland Island in Bermuda. She left Cartagena, Colombia, on 29 April 1934, arriving in Bermuda for the first time (along with her sister ship Exeter from Jamaica) on 4 May 1934 to begin a refit.
A British man of war at Washington, D.C. H.M.S. York, the flagship of the British West Indian Fleet, docks at the Navy Yard at Washington, D.C. She brought Vice Admiral, the Hon. Sir Matthew R. Best, K.C.B., D.S.O., M.V.O., R.N., to Washington where he will be the guest of honor at a round of social functions, 30 October 1935. Harris & Ewing photo in LOC collection.
The same day, with bluejackets inspecting the British man-o-war from the Navy Yard docks. Note her Fairey IIIF floatplane, an anemic biplane that dated back to the Great War. LOC Photo.
Same day. This photograph was made from the deck of the USS Sequoia, the yacht used by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. LOC Photo.
HMS York in the port of Montreal 20 June 1937 via the Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec, Vieux-Montréal, photo P48S1P01697
“Picking up the Plane at 20 MPH.” Note her 4-inch DP gun in the foreground. The new Supermarine Walrus floatplane was picked up in late 1936. As noted by Leo Marriot, in his book, Catapult Aircraft: Seaplanes That Flew From Ships Without Flight Decks, “By no stretch of the imagination could the Walrus be considered a graceful aircraft and it was universally and affectionally known as the ‘Shagbat.'” Photo via Robert John Terry’s excellent galleries on HMS York https://sites.google.com/site/robertjohnterry/hms-york-gallery-2
HMS York entering Havana, Cuba, with the historic Morro Castle in the background, 14 January 1938. Created from a personal photograph in the collection of RN CPO(Tel) George A (“Art”) Browness, “Sparks” (Wireless Telegraphist) onboard HMS York, by Ian Browness, his son. Via Wikimedia Commons
In the summer of 1939, York received a new skipper that would see her throughout the war, CAPT Reginald Henry Portal, DSC, RN, a naval aviator turned surface warfare officer who earned his DSC in 1916, “For conspicuous gallantry during a combat with an enemy aeroplane in the Dardanelles.”
CAPT Reginald Henry Portal by Walter Stoneman, bromide print, January 1943, NPG x164616
By February 1940, she was reassigned to the 1st Cruiser Squadron, Home Fleet at Scapa Flow, and worked with the Northern Patrol looking for Axis blockade runners trying to make it back to the Fatherland. With a degree of success in the latter, she sent the 3,359-ton German freighter Arucasto the bottom of the Atlantic off Iceland on 3 March.
HMS York (Capt. R.H. Portal, DSC, RN) intercepts the German passenger ship Arucas, via U-boat.net
HMS York (Capt. R.H. Portal, DSC, RN) intercepts the German passenger ship Arucas, via U-boat.net
April through June saw her extensively involved in the Norway campaign from supporting landings at Andalsnes to the evacuation of Narvik.
Transferred to the Mediterranean Fleet in August, she ran the gauntlet from Alexandria to Gibraltar for the next several months, escorting UK-to-Egypt troopship convoys, and often brushing up against the Italian fleet. Once such instance found York stumbling upon the Italian Soldati-class destroyer Artigliere, stopped, and on fire after the Battle of Cape Passero on the morning of 12 October.
Artigliere struck her flag, cleared her crew, and was promptly finished off by a brace of torpedoes from York.
The Italian destroyer Artigliere was finished by torpedoes from HMS York at 9.05 on the morning of October 12th, 1940, after the battle of Cape Passero. The ship’s stern ammunition magazines exploded after the torpedo hit. Photo via Wikimedia Commons
HMS York Alexandria 1940. In the foreground, Cruiser Mk II and Mk VAT combat cars
A lucky ship thus far in the war, York screened the carrier HMS Illustrious during the famous Operation Judgement airstrikes on the Italian Fleet at Taranto and increasingly became a player in the actions off Crete, as well as keeping the supply lines open to Malta. This saw her in 1941 start to fend off sustained air attacks by German aircraft.
In March, she took part in Operation Lustre, the move of Allied troops from Egypt to Greece, shepherding fast 3-day convoys from Alexandria to Piraeus. This left her in Suda Bay, Crete, with the bulk of the Mediterranean Fleet cruiser force, safely behind a triple torpedo net array that left her impervious to attack from the sea.
Enter Xª Flottiglia MAS
On the night of 25/26 March, the old Italian destroyers Francesco Crispi and Quintino Sella hove-to some 10 miles out from Suda Bay. Using special cranes, they deployed LT (Tenente di Vascello) Luigi Faggioni of the 10th MAS Flotilla and his five shipmates. Faggioni & Company each helmed an 18-foot Motoscafo da Turismo (Modified Tourism Motorboat).
The MTs, 18-foot long boats powered by a 95-hp Alfa Romeo AR outboard motor, could make 33 knots while floating in just a few inches of water– shallow enough to jump over torpedo nets.
With the single boat operator hanging 10 off the end of the MT, the bow of the vessel was filled with a 660-pound high-explosive warhead that could be rigged to either detonate on impact or be detached and allowed to sink alongside a target for a later, timed explosion.
Not intended to be a suicide craft, akin to the Japanese Shinyo/Maru-ni, the operator ideally would bail out over the back of the boat on the final leg of the attack run, and paddle to safety on their backrest, which, predating today’s air travel briefing, doubled as a flotation device.
To make a long story short, three MT boats managed to penetrate the harbor and braved the near-freezing water to make the final attack just before dawn. Two boats, piloted by future admiral Angelo Cabrini and petty officer Tullio Tedeschi, hit York’s portside– although it should be noted that numerous wartime reports state that just one boat struck the British cruiser.
The York speedboat attack depicted via Corriere dei Piccoli, 1964
The third boat, piloted by Emilio Barberi, hit the 8,324-ton Norwegian tanker Pericles. Faggioni’s boat hit a pier.
The 1954 Dino De Laurentiis action film, Siluri umani, released as “Human Torpedoes” in English-speaking markets, highlighted the MTMs of Xª Flottiglia MAS and the Suda Bay raid.
York, crippled, was beached with two of her crew dead, five men injured, and most of her below-deck machinery spaces full of water.
The British continued to use York as an AAA battery for another two months with her hull resting on the bottom of the Bay as her engineering gang tried to pump out and shore up her spaces in the hope of putting to sea for Alexandria and more repairs.
To provide power to her ship’s systems, the submarine HMS Rover tied up alongside and arranged electrical lines enough to work the big ship’s guns and communications. This, however, left her in a fixed position in an increasingly German part of the globe, which left her a target.
Various sources list a range of German air attacks by JU-88 bombers on 12, 21, 22, and 24 April– two of which caused further damage to the ship– with one such raid leaving a pair of divers working over the side on her broken hull dead from a near miss.
At the same time, some of the ship’s company were detailed to provide beach parties for the evacuation of Greece.
On 18 May, the party was over and York was hit and seriously damaged by a German JU-87 dive-bomber attack, ending her usefulness, at the time the largest surface ship chalked up by Stuka pilots (Hans-Ulrich Rudel would later be able to claim a kill on the Great War-era Soviet Battleship Marat/ex- Petropavlovsk in Leningrad in November).
With the endgame in Crete being written and the German airborne invasion starting on the 20th, York was abandoned and blown up in place on the 22nd, her remaining crew withdrawn to Egypt where the understrength Mediterranean Fleet was licking their wounds.
The hype
By June, the Italians outnumbered the British in the Eastern Med four operational battleships to two and with 11 cruisers stacked up against three; nonetheless, this would soon be rectified by coming events after December.
Sir Henry, York’s skipper, would go on to become the commander of the battleship Royal Sovereign, serve as an ADC to King George VI, become a member of the Bath in 1946, and retire as an admiral in 1951.
As a result of her damage from the Luftwaffe, the Germans claimed to have destroyed York in battle for the remainder of the war, although the Italian Navy cited their own MTM attack as her principal method of death. Half a dozen of one, six of the other, I suppose.
Both countries circulated images of her smashed hull and deck spaces for their purposes.
Ex. Yugoslavian MTB Dinara, now the Italian MS43 moored next to another warship in Suda Bay, Crete, circa April 1942. In the background, the sunken York.
Epilogue
After the war, the rusty hulk of York was raised and towed to Bari, where it was scrapped by an Italian shipbreaker in March 1952.
Her only sister, Exeter, would famously go toe-to-toe with the “pocket battleship” KMS Adm. Graf Spee in December 1939 and be left nearly crippled after seven 11.1-inch shells found a home in her spaces. Patched up, she would be sunk at the Java Sea by 8-inch Japanese shells in 1942.
York’s name was recycled in 1981 for a new Batch III Type 42 Destroyer, HMS York (D98), the last of her class. She was decommissioned in 2012 after more than three decades of hard service to the Crown and is the 12th in an exceptionally long line of HMS Yorks.
Type 42 Destroyer, HMS York (D98) making a turn on her 2005 Far East deployment. MOD Photo 45145563 by LA(Phot) Kelly Whybrow. She was broken up in Turkey in 2015, and the name “York” has not appeared on the RN List since.
As for the MTM drivers, the six Italian frogmen were picked up floating around Souda Bay by the British and kept as POWs until after the Italian armistice in 1944 although they would be decorated in absentia with the Medaglia d’Oro al Valor Militare, Italy’s highest military honor. Faggioni would become an admiral, working with COMSUBIN commandos after the war, and died in 1991.
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
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(Shorter than normal due to events beyond my control)
Warship Wednesday, May 20, 2020: The Long Pennant
National Archives photo 80-G-700448
Here we see the deck of the Independence-class light aircraft carrier USS Langley (CVL-27)on this day, 75 years ago, flying her homeward-bound pennant after spending one hell of a tour forward-deployed in the Pacific. As a rule, such pennants are only authorized for cruises lasting more than nine months, and Langley had managed almost twice that.
As noted by the Navy:
By tradition, the Homeward Bound Pennant is flown by ships that are on continuous overseas duty for nine months and returning to a U.S. port. The length of the pennant is one foot for each Sailor on the ship who has served on board while overseas in excess of nine months. It is divided vertically into two sections. Closest to the hoist is a blue field with one white star indicating nine months of service away from the U.S. An additional star is for each additional six months away. The remaining pennant is divided horizontally into halves, the upper being white and the lower being red. Upon the ship’s return to homeport, the blue portion of the pennant with the white star will be presented to the skipper while the remaining white and red half of the pennant will be divided equally among the officers and crew who served on the vessel for the prerequisite 270 days.
Built at New York Shipbuilding Corporation on a converted cruiser hull, our ship was originally to be the Cleaveland-class light cruiser USS Fargo (CL-85) but was converted to a light carrier named in tandem after the aviation pioneer Samuel Pierpont Langley, and the Navy’s first flattop, the converted collier “covered wagon” USS Langley (CV-1).
Commissioned 31 August 1943, the 11,000-ton carrier sailed for points west, and by 19 January 1944, she sailed from Pearl Harbor for her first overseas combat operation as part of then-RADM Marc Mitscher’s Task Force 58, bound for the attack on the Marshall Islands.
For the next 16 months, she would be forward deployed across the Pacific, earning nine battle stars and a Navy Unit Commendation in the process.
Langley’s aircraft hit Japanese positions on Palau, Yap, Woleai, Caroline Islands, Saipan, Tinian, and Peleliu. She would mix it up in the Battle of the Philippine Sea, run amok off Formosa and the Pescadores, then support the liberation of the Philippines.
Task Group 38.3 enters Ulithi anchorage in a column, 12 December 1944, while returning from strikes on targets in the Philippines. Ships are (from front): Langley (CVL-27); Ticonderoga (CV-14); Washington (BB-56); North Carolina (BB-55); South Dakota (BB-57); Santa Fe (CL-60); Biloxi (CL-80); Mobile (CL-63); and Oakland (CL-95). Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives (photo # 80-G-301351).
Again, she would clash with the remnants of the Japanese surface fleet at the Battle of the Sibuyan Sea and the ensuing Battle off Cape Engaño, where her planes would help write the final chapter of the carriers Zuihō and Zuikaku, the latter being the only remaining flattop of the six that had participated in the Pearl Harbor attack.
She endured Typhoon Cobra, a week before Christmas 1944.
THE LANGLEY IN THE MIDST OF THE GREAT TYPHOON OF DECEMBER, 1944. Why are these sailors smiling? Perhaps they are happy not to be in the gun tub under the stacks – or wherever the crazy photographer is standing! M.D. “Pat” Donavan, who was a VT44 pilot, wrote, “We called it the Christmas Typhoon, and a lot of Christmas mail and packages were lost when the Hull, Spence, and Monahan, three DDs, capsized and were lost with all hands. As I recall, only the ship’s officers knew that the Langley was designed to take a 35-degree roll and actually went to 38. Fortunately, the word didn’t get around to the air group.” Photo courtesy and copyright of The USS Langley CVL-27 Association
Still chugging along, Langley went along for the raid on Indochina and occupied China in early 1945, where she caught a Japanese dive bomber’s deadly egg in the process, then turned towards Japan for strikes against the Home Islands to prep for taking Okinawa. Following operations for that scarred island, which included narrowly escaping crippling kamikaze strikes, she was allowed to retire homeward for repairs and modernization at the Hunters Point Naval Shipyard in San Francisco– and broke out her homeward bound pennant shown at the top.
Due to the shipyard break, her shooting war ended on May 20 and she only returned to the Western Pacific under a U.S. flag for Magic Carpet voyages to bring the boys back. She would make two trips to the Pacific on such happy sorties and two further ones to Europe before Langley was decommissioned on 11 February 1947 in Philadelphia.
Refurbished and transferred on loan to France in 1951, she would serve De Gaulle for another decade as the French aircraft carrier LaFayette (R96), notably seeing combat off Indochina– a coastline she had already worked over in 1945– as well as in the struggle for Paris to retain her North African colonies.
The French aircraft carrier LAFAYETTE (R 96) former USS LANGLEY (CVL-27) at Mers el Kebir, Algeria, North Africa, 1962. Note the airwing of F4U Corsairs, TBM Avengers, and Piasecki H-21 Shawnee.
French Navy Grumman F6F-5 Hellcat launched from French carrier Lafayette off Indochina, 1956
Returned to the U.S. in 1963, she was scrapped, although relics of her remain.
Still, she had an epic 1944-45 deployment that is hard to beat.
CAPT. WALLACE (GOTCH) DILLON, COMMANDING OFFICER. The symbols painted on the side of the island represent 48 enemy aircraft shot down, 22 bombing missions, 3 warships, 8 merchant ships sunk, and 63 aircraft destroyed on the ground. Photo courtesy and copyright of The USS Langley CVL-27 Association
Specs:
Displacement: 11,000 long tons (11,000 t)
Length: 622 ft 6 in (189.74 m)
Beam: 109 ft 2 in (33.27 m)
Draft: 26 ft (7.9 m)
Speed: 31.6 kn (58.5 km/h; 36.4 mph)
Complement: 1,569 officers and men
Armament: 26 × Bofors 40 mm guns
Aircraft carried: 30-40
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The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships you should belong.
I’ve always been a fan of sweetheart grips on handguns. You know, the WWII trench art that was taking bits of broken plexiglass from viewports and aircraft canopies and forming them into grip panels for M1911s or similar period handguns.
Thus:
Likewise, I’ve been a fan of bayonets since, well, forever, so this German Gottlieb Hammesfahr/Solingen K98 bayonet listing I just stumbled across on eBay caught my eye, for obvious reasons.
If you are a warship fan, you have no doubt seen it in the background in hundreds of classic images.
Italian destroyer Dardo shown in 1935 entering Taranto with the Aragon Castle in the background. NH 85759
Italian corvettes Gabbiano (F-571) and Pellicano (F-574) pass the Ponte Girevole swing bridge in Taranto. In the background is the 15th Century Aragon Castle
Swedish minelayer HSwMS Älvsnabben Entering Taranto Harbour ~1976-77 during one of her 25 Naval Training Voyages
ITS Andrea Doria (D 553) leaving the naval base of Taranto 2019
San Giorgio,
Dreadnought battleship RM Dante Alighieri pictured as she traverses the Ponte Girevole Swingbridge at Taranto on February 25th, 1917. Castello Aragonese is to the left
Taranto’s seven-towered Castello Aragonese was built in 1496 for Ferdinand II of Aragon but has fortifications on its compound dating back to the Byzantine era. Since 1883 the fort has been occupied first by the Regia Marina and then by the post-WWII Marina Militare, with the latter working since 2003 to restore and preserve the castle.
The below tour, posted last week by the Italian Navy, is very interesting and, should you need the translation, just click on the closed captioning, then “settings” and choose “auto-translate English” for a fair approximation.
